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-The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Complete Works of William Shakespeare, by
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-
-
-1609
-
-THE SONNETS
-
-by William Shakespeare
-
-
-
- 1
- From fairest creatures we desire increase,
- That thereby beauty's rose might never die,
- But as the riper should by time decease,
- His tender heir might bear his memory:
- But thou contracted to thine own bright eyes,
- Feed'st thy light's flame with self-substantial fuel,
- Making a famine where abundance lies,
- Thy self thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel:
- Thou that art now the world's fresh ornament,
- And only herald to the gaudy spring,
- Within thine own bud buriest thy content,
- And tender churl mak'st waste in niggarding:
- Pity the world, or else this glutton be,
- To eat the world's due, by the grave and thee.
-
-
- 2
- When forty winters shall besiege thy brow,
- And dig deep trenches in thy beauty's field,
- Thy youth's proud livery so gazed on now,
- Will be a tattered weed of small worth held:
- Then being asked, where all thy beauty lies,
- Where all the treasure of thy lusty days;
- To say within thine own deep sunken eyes,
- Were an all-eating shame, and thriftless praise.
- How much more praise deserved thy beauty's use,
- If thou couldst answer 'This fair child of mine
- Shall sum my count, and make my old excuse'
- Proving his beauty by succession thine.
- This were to be new made when thou art old,
- And see thy blood warm when thou feel'st it cold.
-
-
- 3
- Look in thy glass and tell the face thou viewest,
- Now is the time that face should form another,
- Whose fresh repair if now thou not renewest,
- Thou dost beguile the world, unbless some mother.
- For where is she so fair whose uneared womb
- Disdains the tillage of thy husbandry?
- Or who is he so fond will be the tomb,
- Of his self-love to stop posterity?
- Thou art thy mother's glass and she in thee
- Calls back the lovely April of her prime,
- So thou through windows of thine age shalt see,
- Despite of wrinkles this thy golden time.
- But if thou live remembered not to be,
- Die single and thine image dies with thee.
-
-
- 4
- Unthrifty loveliness why dost thou spend,
- Upon thy self thy beauty's legacy?
- Nature's bequest gives nothing but doth lend,
- And being frank she lends to those are free:
- Then beauteous niggard why dost thou abuse,
- The bounteous largess given thee to give?
- Profitless usurer why dost thou use
- So great a sum of sums yet canst not live?
- For having traffic with thy self alone,
- Thou of thy self thy sweet self dost deceive,
- Then how when nature calls thee to be gone,
- What acceptable audit canst thou leave?
- Thy unused beauty must be tombed with thee,
- Which used lives th' executor to be.
-
-
- 5
- Those hours that with gentle work did frame
- The lovely gaze where every eye doth dwell
- Will play the tyrants to the very same,
- And that unfair which fairly doth excel:
- For never-resting time leads summer on
- To hideous winter and confounds him there,
- Sap checked with frost and lusty leaves quite gone,
- Beauty o'er-snowed and bareness every where:
- Then were not summer's distillation left
- A liquid prisoner pent in walls of glass,
- Beauty's effect with beauty were bereft,
- Nor it nor no remembrance what it was.
- But flowers distilled though they with winter meet,
- Leese but their show, their substance still lives sweet.
-
-
- 6
- Then let not winter's ragged hand deface,
- In thee thy summer ere thou be distilled:
- Make sweet some vial; treasure thou some place,
- With beauty's treasure ere it be self-killed:
- That use is not forbidden usury,
- Which happies those that pay the willing loan;
- That's for thy self to breed another thee,
- Or ten times happier be it ten for one,
- Ten times thy self were happier than thou art,
- If ten of thine ten times refigured thee:
- Then what could death do if thou shouldst depart,
- Leaving thee living in posterity?
- Be not self-willed for thou art much too fair,
- To be death's conquest and make worms thine heir.
-
-
- 7
- Lo in the orient when the gracious light
- Lifts up his burning head, each under eye
- Doth homage to his new-appearing sight,
- Serving with looks his sacred majesty,
- And having climbed the steep-up heavenly hill,
- Resembling strong youth in his middle age,
- Yet mortal looks adore his beauty still,
- Attending on his golden pilgrimage:
- But when from highmost pitch with weary car,
- Like feeble age he reeleth from the day,
- The eyes (fore duteous) now converted are
- From his low tract and look another way:
- So thou, thy self out-going in thy noon:
- Unlooked on diest unless thou get a son.
-
-
- 8
- Music to hear, why hear'st thou music sadly?
- Sweets with sweets war not, joy delights in joy:
- Why lov'st thou that which thou receiv'st not gladly,
- Or else receiv'st with pleasure thine annoy?
- If the true concord of well-tuned sounds,
- By unions married do offend thine ear,
- They do but sweetly chide thee, who confounds
- In singleness the parts that thou shouldst bear:
- Mark how one string sweet husband to another,
- Strikes each in each by mutual ordering;
- Resembling sire, and child, and happy mother,
- Who all in one, one pleasing note do sing:
- Whose speechless song being many, seeming one,
- Sings this to thee, 'Thou single wilt prove none'.
-
-
- 9
- Is it for fear to wet a widow's eye,
- That thou consum'st thy self in single life?
- Ah, if thou issueless shalt hap to die,
- The world will wail thee like a makeless wife,
- The world will be thy widow and still weep,
- That thou no form of thee hast left behind,
- When every private widow well may keep,
- By children's eyes, her husband's shape in mind:
- Look what an unthrift in the world doth spend
- Shifts but his place, for still the world enjoys it;
- But beauty's waste hath in the world an end,
- And kept unused the user so destroys it:
- No love toward others in that bosom sits
- That on himself such murd'rous shame commits.
-
-
- 10
- For shame deny that thou bear'st love to any
- Who for thy self art so unprovident.
- Grant if thou wilt, thou art beloved of many,
- But that thou none lov'st is most evident:
- For thou art so possessed with murd'rous hate,
- That 'gainst thy self thou stick'st not to conspire,
- Seeking that beauteous roof to ruinate
- Which to repair should be thy chief desire:
- O change thy thought, that I may change my mind,
- Shall hate be fairer lodged than gentle love?
- Be as thy presence is gracious and kind,
- Or to thy self at least kind-hearted prove,
- Make thee another self for love of me,
- That beauty still may live in thine or thee.
-
-
- 11
- As fast as thou shalt wane so fast thou grow'st,
- In one of thine, from that which thou departest,
- And that fresh blood which youngly thou bestow'st,
- Thou mayst call thine, when thou from youth convertest,
- Herein lives wisdom, beauty, and increase,
- Without this folly, age, and cold decay,
- If all were minded so, the times should cease,
- And threescore year would make the world away:
- Let those whom nature hath not made for store,
- Harsh, featureless, and rude, barrenly perish:
- Look whom she best endowed, she gave thee more;
- Which bounteous gift thou shouldst in bounty cherish:
- She carved thee for her seal, and meant thereby,
- Thou shouldst print more, not let that copy die.
-
-
- 12
- When I do count the clock that tells the time,
- And see the brave day sunk in hideous night,
- When I behold the violet past prime,
- And sable curls all silvered o'er with white:
- When lofty trees I see barren of leaves,
- Which erst from heat did canopy the herd
- And summer's green all girded up in sheaves
- Borne on the bier with white and bristly beard:
- Then of thy beauty do I question make
- That thou among the wastes of time must go,
- Since sweets and beauties do themselves forsake,
- And die as fast as they see others grow,
- And nothing 'gainst Time's scythe can make defence
- Save breed to brave him, when he takes thee hence.
-
-
- 13
- O that you were your self, but love you are
- No longer yours, than you your self here live,
- Against this coming end you should prepare,
- And your sweet semblance to some other give.
- So should that beauty which you hold in lease
- Find no determination, then you were
- Your self again after your self's decease,
- When your sweet issue your sweet form should bear.
- Who lets so fair a house fall to decay,
- Which husbandry in honour might uphold,
- Against the stormy gusts of winter's day
- And barren rage of death's eternal cold?
- O none but unthrifts, dear my love you know,
- You had a father, let your son say so.
-
-
- 14
- Not from the stars do I my judgement pluck,
- And yet methinks I have astronomy,
- But not to tell of good, or evil luck,
- Of plagues, of dearths, or seasons' quality,
- Nor can I fortune to brief minutes tell;
- Pointing to each his thunder, rain and wind,
- Or say with princes if it shall go well
- By oft predict that I in heaven find.
- But from thine eyes my knowledge I derive,
- And constant stars in them I read such art
- As truth and beauty shall together thrive
- If from thy self, to store thou wouldst convert:
- Or else of thee this I prognosticate,
- Thy end is truth's and beauty's doom and date.
-
-
- 15
- When I consider every thing that grows
- Holds in perfection but a little moment.
- That this huge stage presenteth nought but shows
- Whereon the stars in secret influence comment.
- When I perceive that men as plants increase,
- Cheered and checked even by the self-same sky:
- Vaunt in their youthful sap, at height decrease,
- And wear their brave state out of memory.
- Then the conceit of this inconstant stay,
- Sets you most rich in youth before my sight,
- Where wasteful time debateth with decay
- To change your day of youth to sullied night,
- And all in war with Time for love of you,
- As he takes from you, I engraft you new.
-
-
- 16
- But wherefore do not you a mightier way
- Make war upon this bloody tyrant Time?
- And fortify your self in your decay
- With means more blessed than my barren rhyme?
- Now stand you on the top of happy hours,
- And many maiden gardens yet unset,
- With virtuous wish would bear you living flowers,
- Much liker than your painted counterfeit:
- So should the lines of life that life repair
- Which this (Time's pencil) or my pupil pen
- Neither in inward worth nor outward fair
- Can make you live your self in eyes of men.
- To give away your self, keeps your self still,
- And you must live drawn by your own sweet skill.
-
-
- 17
- Who will believe my verse in time to come
- If it were filled with your most high deserts?
- Though yet heaven knows it is but as a tomb
- Which hides your life, and shows not half your parts:
- If I could write the beauty of your eyes,
- And in fresh numbers number all your graces,
- The age to come would say this poet lies,
- Such heavenly touches ne'er touched earthly faces.
- So should my papers (yellowed with their age)
- Be scorned, like old men of less truth than tongue,
- And your true rights be termed a poet's rage,
- And stretched metre of an antique song.
- But were some child of yours alive that time,
- You should live twice in it, and in my rhyme.
-
-
- 18
- Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
- Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
- Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
- And summer's lease hath all too short a date:
- Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
- And often is his gold complexion dimmed,
- And every fair from fair sometime declines,
- By chance, or nature's changing course untrimmed:
- But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
- Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st,
- Nor shall death brag thou wand'rest in his shade,
- When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st,
- So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
- So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
-
-
- 19
- Devouring Time blunt thou the lion's paws,
- And make the earth devour her own sweet brood,
- Pluck the keen teeth from the fierce tiger's jaws,
- And burn the long-lived phoenix, in her blood,
- Make glad and sorry seasons as thou fleet'st,
- And do whate'er thou wilt swift-footed Time
- To the wide world and all her fading sweets:
- But I forbid thee one most heinous crime,
- O carve not with thy hours my love's fair brow,
- Nor draw no lines there with thine antique pen,
- Him in thy course untainted do allow,
- For beauty's pattern to succeeding men.
- Yet do thy worst old Time: despite thy wrong,
- My love shall in my verse ever live young.
-
-
- 20
- A woman's face with nature's own hand painted,
- Hast thou the master mistress of my passion,
- A woman's gentle heart but not acquainted
- With shifting change as is false women's fashion,
- An eye more bright than theirs, less false in rolling:
- Gilding the object whereupon it gazeth,
- A man in hue all hues in his controlling,
- Which steals men's eyes and women's souls amazeth.
- And for a woman wert thou first created,
- Till nature as she wrought thee fell a-doting,
- And by addition me of thee defeated,
- By adding one thing to my purpose nothing.
- But since she pricked thee out for women's pleasure,
- Mine be thy love and thy love's use their treasure.
-
-
- 21
- So is it not with me as with that muse,
- Stirred by a painted beauty to his verse,
- Who heaven it self for ornament doth use,
- And every fair with his fair doth rehearse,
- Making a couplement of proud compare
- With sun and moon, with earth and sea's rich gems:
- With April's first-born flowers and all things rare,
- That heaven's air in this huge rondure hems.
- O let me true in love but truly write,
- And then believe me, my love is as fair,
- As any mother's child, though not so bright
- As those gold candles fixed in heaven's air:
- Let them say more that like of hearsay well,
- I will not praise that purpose not to sell.
-
-
- 22
- My glass shall not persuade me I am old,
- So long as youth and thou are of one date,
- But when in thee time's furrows I behold,
- Then look I death my days should expiate.
- For all that beauty that doth cover thee,
- Is but the seemly raiment of my heart,
- Which in thy breast doth live, as thine in me,
- How can I then be elder than thou art?
- O therefore love be of thyself so wary,
- As I not for my self, but for thee will,
- Bearing thy heart which I will keep so chary
- As tender nurse her babe from faring ill.
- Presume not on thy heart when mine is slain,
- Thou gav'st me thine not to give back again.
-
-
- 23
- As an unperfect actor on the stage,
- Who with his fear is put beside his part,
- Or some fierce thing replete with too much rage,
- Whose strength's abundance weakens his own heart;
- So I for fear of trust, forget to say,
- The perfect ceremony of love's rite,
- And in mine own love's strength seem to decay,
- O'ercharged with burthen of mine own love's might:
- O let my looks be then the eloquence,
- And dumb presagers of my speaking breast,
- Who plead for love, and look for recompense,
- More than that tongue that more hath more expressed.
- O learn to read what silent love hath writ,
- To hear with eyes belongs to love's fine wit.
-
-
- 24
- Mine eye hath played the painter and hath stelled,
- Thy beauty's form in table of my heart,
- My body is the frame wherein 'tis held,
- And perspective it is best painter's art.
- For through the painter must you see his skill,
- To find where your true image pictured lies,
- Which in my bosom's shop is hanging still,
- That hath his windows glazed with thine eyes:
- Now see what good turns eyes for eyes have done,
- Mine eyes have drawn thy shape, and thine for me
- Are windows to my breast, where-through the sun
- Delights to peep, to gaze therein on thee;
- Yet eyes this cunning want to grace their art,
- They draw but what they see, know not the heart.
-
-
- 25
- Let those who are in favour with their stars,
- Of public honour and proud titles boast,
- Whilst I whom fortune of such triumph bars
- Unlooked for joy in that I honour most;
- Great princes' favourites their fair leaves spread,
- But as the marigold at the sun's eye,
- And in themselves their pride lies buried,
- For at a frown they in their glory die.
- The painful warrior famoused for fight,
- After a thousand victories once foiled,
- Is from the book of honour razed quite,
- And all the rest forgot for which he toiled:
- Then happy I that love and am beloved
- Where I may not remove nor be removed.
-
-
- 26
- Lord of my love, to whom in vassalage
- Thy merit hath my duty strongly knit;
- To thee I send this written embassage
- To witness duty, not to show my wit.
- Duty so great, which wit so poor as mine
- May make seem bare, in wanting words to show it;
- But that I hope some good conceit of thine
- In thy soul's thought (all naked) will bestow it:
- Till whatsoever star that guides my moving,
- Points on me graciously with fair aspect,
- And puts apparel on my tattered loving,
- To show me worthy of thy sweet respect,
- Then may I dare to boast how I do love thee,
- Till then, not show my head where thou mayst prove me.
-
-
- 27
- Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed,
- The dear respose for limbs with travel tired,
- But then begins a journey in my head
- To work my mind, when body's work's expired.
- For then my thoughts (from far where I abide)
- Intend a zealous pilgrimage to thee,
- And keep my drooping eyelids open wide,
- Looking on darkness which the blind do see.
- Save that my soul's imaginary sight
- Presents thy shadow to my sightless view,
- Which like a jewel (hung in ghastly night)
- Makes black night beauteous, and her old face new.
- Lo thus by day my limbs, by night my mind,
- For thee, and for my self, no quiet find.
-
-
- 28
- How can I then return in happy plight
- That am debarred the benefit of rest?
- When day's oppression is not eased by night,
- But day by night and night by day oppressed.
- And each (though enemies to either's reign)
- Do in consent shake hands to torture me,
- The one by toil, the other to complain
- How far I toil, still farther off from thee.
- I tell the day to please him thou art bright,
- And dost him grace when clouds do blot the heaven:
- So flatter I the swart-complexioned night,
- When sparkling stars twire not thou gild'st the even.
- But day doth daily draw my sorrows longer,
- And night doth nightly make grief's length seem stronger
-
-
- 29
- When in disgrace with Fortune and men's eyes,
- I all alone beweep my outcast state,
- And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,
- And look upon my self and curse my fate,
- Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
- Featured like him, like him with friends possessed,
- Desiring this man's art, and that man's scope,
- With what I most enjoy contented least,
- Yet in these thoughts my self almost despising,
- Haply I think on thee, and then my state,
- (Like to the lark at break of day arising
- From sullen earth) sings hymns at heaven's gate,
- For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings,
- That then I scorn to change my state with kings.
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- 30
- When to the sessions of sweet silent thought,
- I summon up remembrance of things past,
- I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,
- And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste:
- Then can I drown an eye (unused to flow)
- For precious friends hid in death's dateless night,
- And weep afresh love's long since cancelled woe,
- And moan th' expense of many a vanished sight.
- Then can I grieve at grievances foregone,
- And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er
- The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan,
- Which I new pay as if not paid before.
- But if the while I think on thee (dear friend)
- All losses are restored, and sorrows end.
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- 31
- Thy bosom is endeared with all hearts,
- Which I by lacking have supposed dead,
- And there reigns love and all love's loving parts,
- And all those friends which I thought buried.
- How many a holy and obsequious tear
- Hath dear religious love stol'n from mine eye,
- As interest of the dead, which now appear,
- But things removed that hidden in thee lie.
- Thou art the grave where buried love doth live,
- Hung with the trophies of my lovers gone,
- Who all their parts of me to thee did give,
- That due of many, now is thine alone.
- Their images I loved, I view in thee,
- And thou (all they) hast all the all of me.
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- 32
- If thou survive my well-contented day,
- When that churl death my bones with dust shall cover
- And shalt by fortune once more re-survey
- These poor rude lines of thy deceased lover:
- Compare them with the bett'ring of the time,
- And though they be outstripped by every pen,
- Reserve them for my love, not for their rhyme,
- Exceeded by the height of happier men.
- O then vouchsafe me but this loving thought,
- 'Had my friend's Muse grown with this growing age,
- A dearer birth than this his love had brought
- To march in ranks of better equipage:
- But since he died and poets better prove,
- Theirs for their style I'll read, his for his love'.
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- 33
- Full many a glorious morning have I seen,
- Flatter the mountain tops with sovereign eye,
- Kissing with golden face the meadows green;
- Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy:
- Anon permit the basest clouds to ride,
- With ugly rack on his celestial face,
- And from the forlorn world his visage hide
- Stealing unseen to west with this disgrace:
- Even so my sun one early morn did shine,
- With all triumphant splendour on my brow,
- But out alack, he was but one hour mine,
- The region cloud hath masked him from me now.
- Yet him for this, my love no whit disdaineth,
- Suns of the world may stain, when heaven's sun staineth.
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- 34
- Why didst thou promise such a beauteous day,
- And make me travel forth without my cloak,
- To let base clouds o'ertake me in my way,
- Hiding thy brav'ry in their rotten smoke?
- 'Tis not enough that through the cloud thou break,
- To dry the rain on my storm-beaten face,
- For no man well of such a salve can speak,
- That heals the wound, and cures not the disgrace:
- Nor can thy shame give physic to my grief,
- Though thou repent, yet I have still the loss,
- Th' offender's sorrow lends but weak relief
- To him that bears the strong offence's cross.
- Ah but those tears are pearl which thy love sheds,
- And they are rich, and ransom all ill deeds.
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- 35
- No more be grieved at that which thou hast done,
- Roses have thorns, and silver fountains mud,
- Clouds and eclipses stain both moon and sun,
- And loathsome canker lives in sweetest bud.
- All men make faults, and even I in this,
- Authorizing thy trespass with compare,
- My self corrupting salving thy amiss,
- Excusing thy sins more than thy sins are:
- For to thy sensual fault I bring in sense,
- Thy adverse party is thy advocate,
- And 'gainst my self a lawful plea commence:
- Such civil war is in my love and hate,
- That I an accessary needs must be,
- To that sweet thief which sourly robs from me.
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- 36
- Let me confess that we two must be twain,
- Although our undivided loves are one:
- So shall those blots that do with me remain,
- Without thy help, by me be borne alone.
- In our two loves there is but one respect,
- Though in our lives a separable spite,
- Which though it alter not love's sole effect,
- Yet doth it steal sweet hours from love's delight.
- I may not evermore acknowledge thee,
- Lest my bewailed guilt should do thee shame,
- Nor thou with public kindness honour me,
- Unless thou take that honour from thy name:
- But do not so, I love thee in such sort,
- As thou being mine, mine is thy good report.
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- 37
- As a decrepit father takes delight,
- To see his active child do deeds of youth,
- So I, made lame by Fortune's dearest spite
- Take all my comfort of thy worth and truth.
- For whether beauty, birth, or wealth, or wit,
- Or any of these all, or all, or more
- Entitled in thy parts, do crowned sit,
- I make my love engrafted to this store:
- So then I am not lame, poor, nor despised,
- Whilst that this shadow doth such substance give,
- That I in thy abundance am sufficed,
- And by a part of all thy glory live:
- Look what is best, that best I wish in thee,
- This wish I have, then ten times happy me.
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- 38
- How can my muse want subject to invent
- While thou dost breathe that pour'st into my verse,
- Thine own sweet argument, too excellent,
- For every vulgar paper to rehearse?
- O give thy self the thanks if aught in me,
- Worthy perusal stand against thy sight,
- For who's so dumb that cannot write to thee,
- When thou thy self dost give invention light?
- Be thou the tenth Muse, ten times more in worth
- Than those old nine which rhymers invocate,
- And he that calls on thee, let him bring forth
- Eternal numbers to outlive long date.
- If my slight muse do please these curious days,
- The pain be mine, but thine shall be the praise.
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- 39
- O how thy worth with manners may I sing,
- When thou art all the better part of me?
- What can mine own praise to mine own self bring:
- And what is't but mine own when I praise thee?
- Even for this, let us divided live,
- And our dear love lose name of single one,
- That by this separation I may give:
- That due to thee which thou deserv'st alone:
- O absence what a torment wouldst thou prove,
- Were it not thy sour leisure gave sweet leave,
- To entertain the time with thoughts of love,
- Which time and thoughts so sweetly doth deceive.
- And that thou teachest how to make one twain,
- By praising him here who doth hence remain.
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- 40
- Take all my loves, my love, yea take them all,
- What hast thou then more than thou hadst before?
- No love, my love, that thou mayst true love call,
- All mine was thine, before thou hadst this more:
- Then if for my love, thou my love receivest,
- I cannot blame thee, for my love thou usest,
- But yet be blamed, if thou thy self deceivest
- By wilful taste of what thy self refusest.
- I do forgive thy robbery gentle thief
- Although thou steal thee all my poverty:
- And yet love knows it is a greater grief
- To bear greater wrong, than hate's known injury.
- Lascivious grace, in whom all ill well shows,
- Kill me with spites yet we must not be foes.
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- 41
- Those pretty wrongs that liberty commits,
- When I am sometime absent from thy heart,
- Thy beauty, and thy years full well befits,
- For still temptation follows where thou art.
- Gentle thou art, and therefore to be won,
- Beauteous thou art, therefore to be assailed.
- And when a woman woos, what woman's son,
- Will sourly leave her till he have prevailed?
- Ay me, but yet thou mightst my seat forbear,
- And chide thy beauty, and thy straying youth,
- Who lead thee in their riot even there
- Where thou art forced to break a twofold truth:
- Hers by thy beauty tempting her to thee,
- Thine by thy beauty being false to me.
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- 42
- That thou hast her it is not all my grief,
- And yet it may be said I loved her dearly,
- That she hath thee is of my wailing chief,
- A loss in love that touches me more nearly.
- Loving offenders thus I will excuse ye,
- Thou dost love her, because thou know'st I love her,
- And for my sake even so doth she abuse me,
- Suff'ring my friend for my sake to approve her.
- If I lose thee, my loss is my love's gain,
- And losing her, my friend hath found that loss,
- Both find each other, and I lose both twain,
- And both for my sake lay on me this cross,
- But here's the joy, my friend and I are one,
- Sweet flattery, then she loves but me alone.
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- 43
- When most I wink then do mine eyes best see,
- For all the day they view things unrespected,
- But when I sleep, in dreams they look on thee,
- And darkly bright, are bright in dark directed.
- Then thou whose shadow shadows doth make bright
- How would thy shadow's form, form happy show,
- To the clear day with thy much clearer light,
- When to unseeing eyes thy shade shines so!
- How would (I say) mine eyes be blessed made,
- By looking on thee in the living day,
- When in dead night thy fair imperfect shade,
- Through heavy sleep on sightless eyes doth stay!
- All days are nights to see till I see thee,
- And nights bright days when dreams do show thee me.
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- 44
- If the dull substance of my flesh were thought,
- Injurious distance should not stop my way,
- For then despite of space I would be brought,
- From limits far remote, where thou dost stay,
- No matter then although my foot did stand
- Upon the farthest earth removed from thee,
- For nimble thought can jump both sea and land,
- As soon as think the place where he would be.
- But ah, thought kills me that I am not thought
- To leap large lengths of miles when thou art gone,
- But that so much of earth and water wrought,
- I must attend, time's leisure with my moan.
- Receiving nought by elements so slow,
- But heavy tears, badges of either's woe.
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- 45
- The other two, slight air, and purging fire,
- Are both with thee, wherever I abide,
- The first my thought, the other my desire,
- These present-absent with swift motion slide.
- For when these quicker elements are gone
- In tender embassy of love to thee,
- My life being made of four, with two alone,
- Sinks down to death, oppressed with melancholy.
- Until life's composition be recured,
- By those swift messengers returned from thee,
- Who even but now come back again assured,
- Of thy fair health, recounting it to me.
- This told, I joy, but then no longer glad,
- I send them back again and straight grow sad.
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- 46
- Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war,
- How to divide the conquest of thy sight,
- Mine eye, my heart thy picture's sight would bar,
- My heart, mine eye the freedom of that right,
- My heart doth plead that thou in him dost lie,
- (A closet never pierced with crystal eyes)
- But the defendant doth that plea deny,
- And says in him thy fair appearance lies.
- To side this title is impanelled
- A quest of thoughts, all tenants to the heart,
- And by their verdict is determined
- The clear eye's moiety, and the dear heart's part.
- As thus, mine eye's due is thy outward part,
- And my heart's right, thy inward love of heart.
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- 47
- Betwixt mine eye and heart a league is took,
- And each doth good turns now unto the other,
- When that mine eye is famished for a look,
- Or heart in love with sighs himself doth smother;
- With my love's picture then my eye doth feast,
- And to the painted banquet bids my heart:
- Another time mine eye is my heart's guest,
- And in his thoughts of love doth share a part.
- So either by thy picture or my love,
- Thy self away, art present still with me,
- For thou not farther than my thoughts canst move,
- And I am still with them, and they with thee.
- Or if they sleep, thy picture in my sight
- Awakes my heart, to heart's and eye's delight.
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- 48
- How careful was I when I took my way,
- Each trifle under truest bars to thrust,
- That to my use it might unused stay
- From hands of falsehood, in sure wards of trust!
- But thou, to whom my jewels trifles are,
- Most worthy comfort, now my greatest grief,
- Thou best of dearest, and mine only care,
- Art left the prey of every vulgar thief.
- Thee have I not locked up in any chest,
- Save where thou art not, though I feel thou art,
- Within the gentle closure of my breast,
- From whence at pleasure thou mayst come and part,
- And even thence thou wilt be stol'n I fear,
- For truth proves thievish for a prize so dear.
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- 49
- Against that time (if ever that time come)
- When I shall see thee frown on my defects,
- When as thy love hath cast his utmost sum,
- Called to that audit by advised respects,
- Against that time when thou shalt strangely pass,
- And scarcely greet me with that sun thine eye,
- When love converted from the thing it was
- Shall reasons find of settled gravity;
- Against that time do I ensconce me here
- Within the knowledge of mine own desert,
- And this my hand, against my self uprear,
- To guard the lawful reasons on thy part,
- To leave poor me, thou hast the strength of laws,
- Since why to love, I can allege no cause.
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- 50
- How heavy do I journey on the way,
- When what I seek (my weary travel's end)
- Doth teach that case and that repose to say
- 'Thus far the miles are measured from thy friend.'
- The beast that bears me, tired with my woe,
- Plods dully on, to bear that weight in me,
- As if by some instinct the wretch did know
- His rider loved not speed being made from thee:
- The bloody spur cannot provoke him on,
- That sometimes anger thrusts into his hide,
- Which heavily he answers with a groan,
- More sharp to me than spurring to his side,
- For that same groan doth put this in my mind,
- My grief lies onward and my joy behind.
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- 51
- Thus can my love excuse the slow offence,
- Of my dull bearer, when from thee I speed,
- From where thou art, why should I haste me thence?
- Till I return of posting is no need.
- O what excuse will my poor beast then find,
- When swift extremity can seem but slow?
- Then should I spur though mounted on the wind,
- In winged speed no motion shall I know,
- Then can no horse with my desire keep pace,
- Therefore desire (of perfect'st love being made)
- Shall neigh (no dull flesh) in his fiery race,
- But love, for love, thus shall excuse my jade,
- Since from thee going, he went wilful-slow,
- Towards thee I'll run, and give him leave to go.
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- 52
- So am I as the rich whose blessed key,
- Can bring him to his sweet up-locked treasure,
- The which he will not every hour survey,
- For blunting the fine point of seldom pleasure.
- Therefore are feasts so solemn and so rare,
- Since seldom coming in that long year set,
- Like stones of worth they thinly placed are,
- Or captain jewels in the carcanet.
- So is the time that keeps you as my chest
- Or as the wardrobe which the robe doth hide,
- To make some special instant special-blest,
- By new unfolding his imprisoned pride.
- Blessed are you whose worthiness gives scope,
- Being had to triumph, being lacked to hope.
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- 53
- What is your substance, whereof are you made,
- That millions of strange shadows on you tend?
- Since every one, hath every one, one shade,
- And you but one, can every shadow lend:
- Describe Adonis and the counterfeit,
- Is poorly imitated after you,
- On Helen's cheek all art of beauty set,
- And you in Grecian tires are painted new:
- Speak of the spring, and foison of the year,
- The one doth shadow of your beauty show,
- The other as your bounty doth appear,
- And you in every blessed shape we know.
- In all external grace you have some part,
- But you like none, none you for constant heart.
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- 54
- O how much more doth beauty beauteous seem,
- By that sweet ornament which truth doth give!
- The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem
- For that sweet odour, which doth in it live:
- The canker blooms have full as deep a dye,
- As the perfumed tincture of the roses,
- Hang on such thorns, and play as wantonly,
- When summer's breath their masked buds discloses:
- But for their virtue only is their show,
- They live unwooed, and unrespected fade,
- Die to themselves. Sweet roses do not so,
- Of their sweet deaths, are sweetest odours made:
- And so of you, beauteous and lovely youth,
- When that shall fade, my verse distills your truth.
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- 55
- Not marble, nor the gilded monuments
- Of princes shall outlive this powerful rhyme,
- But you shall shine more bright in these contents
- Than unswept stone, besmeared with sluttish time.
- When wasteful war shall statues overturn,
- And broils root out the work of masonry,
- Nor Mars his sword, nor war's quick fire shall burn:
- The living record of your memory.
- 'Gainst death, and all-oblivious enmity
- Shall you pace forth, your praise shall still find room,
- Even in the eyes of all posterity
- That wear this world out to the ending doom.
- So till the judgment that your self arise,
- You live in this, and dwell in lovers' eyes.
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- 56
- Sweet love renew thy force, be it not said
- Thy edge should blunter be than appetite,
- Which but to-day by feeding is allayed,
- To-morrow sharpened in his former might.
- So love be thou, although to-day thou fill
- Thy hungry eyes, even till they wink with fulness,
- To-morrow see again, and do not kill
- The spirit of love, with a perpetual dulness:
- Let this sad interim like the ocean be
- Which parts the shore, where two contracted new,
- Come daily to the banks, that when they see:
- Return of love, more blest may be the view.
- Or call it winter, which being full of care,
- Makes summer's welcome, thrice more wished, more rare.
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- 57
- Being your slave what should I do but tend,
- Upon the hours, and times of your desire?
- I have no precious time at all to spend;
- Nor services to do till you require.
- Nor dare I chide the world-without-end hour,
- Whilst I (my sovereign) watch the clock for you,
- Nor think the bitterness of absence sour,
- When you have bid your servant once adieu.
- Nor dare I question with my jealous thought,
- Where you may be, or your affairs suppose,
- But like a sad slave stay and think of nought
- Save where you are, how happy you make those.
- So true a fool is love, that in your will,
- (Though you do any thing) he thinks no ill.
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- 58
- That god forbid, that made me first your slave,
- I should in thought control your times of pleasure,
- Or at your hand th' account of hours to crave,
- Being your vassal bound to stay your leisure.
- O let me suffer (being at your beck)
- Th' imprisoned absence of your liberty,
- And patience tame to sufferance bide each check,
- Without accusing you of injury.
- Be where you list, your charter is so strong,
- That you your self may privilage your time
- To what you will, to you it doth belong,
- Your self to pardon of self-doing crime.
- I am to wait, though waiting so be hell,
- Not blame your pleasure be it ill or well.
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- 59
- If there be nothing new, but that which is,
- Hath been before, how are our brains beguiled,
- Which labouring for invention bear amis
- The second burthen of a former child!
- O that record could with a backward look,
- Even of five hundred courses of the sun,
- Show me your image in some antique book,
- Since mind at first in character was done.
- That I might see what the old world could say,
- To this composed wonder of your frame,
- Whether we are mended, or whether better they,
- Or whether revolution be the same.
- O sure I am the wits of former days,
- To subjects worse have given admiring praise.
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- 60
- Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore,
- So do our minutes hasten to their end,
- Each changing place with that which goes before,
- In sequent toil all forwards do contend.
- Nativity once in the main of light,
- Crawls to maturity, wherewith being crowned,
- Crooked eclipses 'gainst his glory fight,
- And Time that gave, doth now his gift confound.
- Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth,
- And delves the parallels in beauty's brow,
- Feeds on the rarities of nature's truth,
- And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow.
- And yet to times in hope, my verse shall stand
- Praising thy worth, despite his cruel hand.
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- 61
- Is it thy will, thy image should keep open
- My heavy eyelids to the weary night?
- Dost thou desire my slumbers should be broken,
- While shadows like to thee do mock my sight?
- Is it thy spirit that thou send'st from thee
- So far from home into my deeds to pry,
- To find out shames and idle hours in me,
- The scope and tenure of thy jealousy?
- O no, thy love though much, is not so great,
- It is my love that keeps mine eye awake,
- Mine own true love that doth my rest defeat,
- To play the watchman ever for thy sake.
- For thee watch I, whilst thou dost wake elsewhere,
- From me far off, with others all too near.
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- 62
- Sin of self-love possesseth all mine eye,
- And all my soul, and all my every part;
- And for this sin there is no remedy,
- It is so grounded inward in my heart.
- Methinks no face so gracious is as mine,
- No shape so true, no truth of such account,
- And for my self mine own worth do define,
- As I all other in all worths surmount.
- But when my glass shows me my self indeed
- beated and chopt with tanned antiquity,
- Mine own self-love quite contrary I read:
- Self, so self-loving were iniquity.
- 'Tis thee (my self) that for my self I praise,
- Painting my age with beauty of thy days.
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- 63
- Against my love shall be as I am now
- With Time's injurious hand crushed and o'erworn,
- When hours have drained his blood and filled his brow
- With lines and wrinkles, when his youthful morn
- Hath travelled on to age's steepy night,
- And all those beauties whereof now he's king
- Are vanishing, or vanished out of sight,
- Stealing away the treasure of his spring:
- For such a time do I now fortify
- Against confounding age's cruel knife,
- That he shall never cut from memory
- My sweet love's beauty, though my lover's life.
- His beauty shall in these black lines be seen,
- And they shall live, and he in them still green.
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- 64
- When I have seen by Time's fell hand defaced
- The rich-proud cost of outworn buried age,
- When sometime lofty towers I see down-rased,
- And brass eternal slave to mortal rage.
- When I have seen the hungry ocean gain
- Advantage on the kingdom of the shore,
- And the firm soil win of the watery main,
- Increasing store with loss, and loss with store.
- When I have seen such interchange of State,
- Or state it self confounded, to decay,
- Ruin hath taught me thus to ruminate
- That Time will come and take my love away.
- This thought is as a death which cannot choose
- But weep to have, that which it fears to lose.
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- 65
- Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea,
- But sad mortality o'ersways their power,
- How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea,
- Whose action is no stronger than a flower?
- O how shall summer's honey breath hold out,
- Against the wrackful siege of batt'ring days,
- When rocks impregnable are not so stout,
- Nor gates of steel so strong but time decays?
- O fearful meditation, where alack,
- Shall Time's best jewel from Time's chest lie hid?
- Or what strong hand can hold his swift foot back,
- Or who his spoil of beauty can forbid?
- O none, unless this miracle have might,
- That in black ink my love may still shine bright.
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- 66
- Tired with all these for restful death I cry,
- As to behold desert a beggar born,
- And needy nothing trimmed in jollity,
- And purest faith unhappily forsworn,
- And gilded honour shamefully misplaced,
- And maiden virtue rudely strumpeted,
- And right perfection wrongfully disgraced,
- And strength by limping sway disabled
- And art made tongue-tied by authority,
- And folly (doctor-like) controlling skill,
- And simple truth miscalled simplicity,
- And captive good attending captain ill.
- Tired with all these, from these would I be gone,
- Save that to die, I leave my love alone.
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- 67
- Ah wherefore with infection should he live,
- And with his presence grace impiety,
- That sin by him advantage should achieve,
- And lace it self with his society?
- Why should false painting imitate his cheek,
- And steal dead seeming of his living hue?
- Why should poor beauty indirectly seek,
- Roses of shadow, since his rose is true?
- Why should he live, now nature bankrupt is,
- Beggared of blood to blush through lively veins,
- For she hath no exchequer now but his,
- And proud of many, lives upon his gains?
- O him she stores, to show what wealth she had,
- In days long since, before these last so bad.
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- 68
- Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn,
- When beauty lived and died as flowers do now,
- Before these bastard signs of fair were born,
- Or durst inhabit on a living brow:
- Before the golden tresses of the dead,
- The right of sepulchres, were shorn away,
- To live a second life on second head,
- Ere beauty's dead fleece made another gay:
- In him those holy antique hours are seen,
- Without all ornament, it self and true,
- Making no summer of another's green,
- Robbing no old to dress his beauty new,
- And him as for a map doth Nature store,
- To show false Art what beauty was of yore.
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- 69
- Those parts of thee that the world's eye doth view,
- Want nothing that the thought of hearts can mend:
- All tongues (the voice of souls) give thee that due,
- Uttering bare truth, even so as foes commend.
- Thy outward thus with outward praise is crowned,
- But those same tongues that give thee so thine own,
- In other accents do this praise confound
- By seeing farther than the eye hath shown.
- They look into the beauty of thy mind,
- And that in guess they measure by thy deeds,
- Then churls their thoughts (although their eyes were kind)
- To thy fair flower add the rank smell of weeds:
- But why thy odour matcheth not thy show,
- The soil is this, that thou dost common grow.
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- 70
- That thou art blamed shall not be thy defect,
- For slander's mark was ever yet the fair,
- The ornament of beauty is suspect,
- A crow that flies in heaven's sweetest air.
- So thou be good, slander doth but approve,
- Thy worth the greater being wooed of time,
- For canker vice the sweetest buds doth love,
- And thou present'st a pure unstained prime.
- Thou hast passed by the ambush of young days,
- Either not assailed, or victor being charged,
- Yet this thy praise cannot be so thy praise,
- To tie up envy, evermore enlarged,
- If some suspect of ill masked not thy show,
- Then thou alone kingdoms of hearts shouldst owe.
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- 71
- No longer mourn for me when I am dead,
- Than you shall hear the surly sullen bell
- Give warning to the world that I am fled
- From this vile world with vilest worms to dwell:
- Nay if you read this line, remember not,
- The hand that writ it, for I love you so,
- That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot,
- If thinking on me then should make you woe.
- O if (I say) you look upon this verse,
- When I (perhaps) compounded am with clay,
- Do not so much as my poor name rehearse;
- But let your love even with my life decay.
- Lest the wise world should look into your moan,
- And mock you with me after I am gone.
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- 72
- O lest the world should task you to recite,
- What merit lived in me that you should love
- After my death (dear love) forget me quite,
- For you in me can nothing worthy prove.
- Unless you would devise some virtuous lie,
- To do more for me than mine own desert,
- And hang more praise upon deceased I,
- Than niggard truth would willingly impart:
- O lest your true love may seem false in this,
- That you for love speak well of me untrue,
- My name be buried where my body is,
- And live no more to shame nor me, nor you.
- For I am shamed by that which I bring forth,
- And so should you, to love things nothing worth.
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- 73
- That time of year thou mayst in me behold,
- When yellow leaves, or none, or few do hang
- Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
- Bare ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
- In me thou seest the twilight of such day,
- As after sunset fadeth in the west,
- Which by and by black night doth take away,
- Death's second self that seals up all in rest.
- In me thou seest the glowing of such fire,
- That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,
- As the death-bed, whereon it must expire,
- Consumed with that which it was nourished by.
- This thou perceiv'st, which makes thy love more strong,
- To love that well, which thou must leave ere long.
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- 74
- But be contented when that fell arrest,
- Without all bail shall carry me away,
- My life hath in this line some interest,
- Which for memorial still with thee shall stay.
- When thou reviewest this, thou dost review,
- The very part was consecrate to thee,
- The earth can have but earth, which is his due,
- My spirit is thine the better part of me,
- So then thou hast but lost the dregs of life,
- The prey of worms, my body being dead,
- The coward conquest of a wretch's knife,
- Too base of thee to be remembered,
- The worth of that, is that which it contains,
- And that is this, and this with thee remains.
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- 75
- So are you to my thoughts as food to life,
- Or as sweet-seasoned showers are to the ground;
- And for the peace of you I hold such strife
- As 'twixt a miser and his wealth is found.
- Now proud as an enjoyer, and anon
- Doubting the filching age will steal his treasure,
- Now counting best to be with you alone,
- Then bettered that the world may see my pleasure,
- Sometime all full with feasting on your sight,
- And by and by clean starved for a look,
- Possessing or pursuing no delight
- Save what is had, or must from you be took.
- Thus do I pine and surfeit day by day,
- Or gluttoning on all, or all away.
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- 76
- Why is my verse so barren of new pride?
- So far from variation or quick change?
- Why with the time do I not glance aside
- To new-found methods, and to compounds strange?
- Why write I still all one, ever the same,
- And keep invention in a noted weed,
- That every word doth almost tell my name,
- Showing their birth, and where they did proceed?
- O know sweet love I always write of you,
- And you and love are still my argument:
- So all my best is dressing old words new,
- Spending again what is already spent:
- For as the sun is daily new and old,
- So is my love still telling what is told.
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- 77
- Thy glass will show thee how thy beauties wear,
- Thy dial how thy precious minutes waste,
- These vacant leaves thy mind's imprint will bear,
- And of this book, this learning mayst thou taste.
- The wrinkles which thy glass will truly show,
- Of mouthed graves will give thee memory,
- Thou by thy dial's shady stealth mayst know,
- Time's thievish progress to eternity.
- Look what thy memory cannot contain,
- Commit to these waste blanks, and thou shalt find
- Those children nursed, delivered from thy brain,
- To take a new acquaintance of thy mind.
- These offices, so oft as thou wilt look,
- Shall profit thee, and much enrich thy book.
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- 78
- So oft have I invoked thee for my muse,
- And found such fair assistance in my verse,
- As every alien pen hath got my use,
- And under thee their poesy disperse.
- Thine eyes, that taught the dumb on high to sing,
- And heavy ignorance aloft to fly,
- Have added feathers to the learned's wing,
- And given grace a double majesty.
- Yet be most proud of that which I compile,
- Whose influence is thine, and born of thee,
- In others' works thou dost but mend the style,
- And arts with thy sweet graces graced be.
- But thou art all my art, and dost advance
- As high as learning, my rude ignorance.
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- 79
- Whilst I alone did call upon thy aid,
- My verse alone had all thy gentle grace,
- But now my gracious numbers are decayed,
- And my sick muse doth give an other place.
- I grant (sweet love) thy lovely argument
- Deserves the travail of a worthier pen,
- Yet what of thee thy poet doth invent,
- He robs thee of, and pays it thee again,
- He lends thee virtue, and he stole that word,
- From thy behaviour, beauty doth he give
- And found it in thy cheek: he can afford
- No praise to thee, but what in thee doth live.
- Then thank him not for that which he doth say,
- Since what he owes thee, thou thy self dost pay.
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- 80
- O how I faint when I of you do write,
- Knowing a better spirit doth use your name,
- And in the praise thereof spends all his might,
- To make me tongue-tied speaking of your fame.
- But since your worth (wide as the ocean is)
- The humble as the proudest sail doth bear,
- My saucy bark (inferior far to his)
- On your broad main doth wilfully appear.
- Your shallowest help will hold me up afloat,
- Whilst he upon your soundless deep doth ride,
- Or (being wrecked) I am a worthless boat,
- He of tall building, and of goodly pride.
- Then if he thrive and I be cast away,
- The worst was this, my love was my decay.
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- 81
- Or I shall live your epitaph to make,
- Or you survive when I in earth am rotten,
- From hence your memory death cannot take,
- Although in me each part will be forgotten.
- Your name from hence immortal life shall have,
- Though I (once gone) to all the world must die,
- The earth can yield me but a common grave,
- When you entombed in men's eyes shall lie,
- Your monument shall be my gentle verse,
- Which eyes not yet created shall o'er-read,
- And tongues to be, your being shall rehearse,
- When all the breathers of this world are dead,
- You still shall live (such virtue hath my pen)
- Where breath most breathes, even in the mouths of men.
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- 82
- I grant thou wert not married to my muse,
- And therefore mayst without attaint o'erlook
- The dedicated words which writers use
- Of their fair subject, blessing every book.
- Thou art as fair in knowledge as in hue,
- Finding thy worth a limit past my praise,
- And therefore art enforced to seek anew,
- Some fresher stamp of the time-bettering days.
- And do so love, yet when they have devised,
- What strained touches rhetoric can lend,
- Thou truly fair, wert truly sympathized,
- In true plain words, by thy true-telling friend.
- And their gross painting might be better used,
- Where cheeks need blood, in thee it is abused.
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- 83
- I never saw that you did painting need,
- And therefore to your fair no painting set,
- I found (or thought I found) you did exceed,
- That barren tender of a poet's debt:
- And therefore have I slept in your report,
- That you your self being extant well might show,
- How far a modern quill doth come too short,
- Speaking of worth, what worth in you doth grow.
- This silence for my sin you did impute,
- Which shall be most my glory being dumb,
- For I impair not beauty being mute,
- When others would give life, and bring a tomb.
- There lives more life in one of your fair eyes,
- Than both your poets can in praise devise.
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- 84
- Who is it that says most, which can say more,
- Than this rich praise, that you alone, are you?
- In whose confine immured is the store,
- Which should example where your equal grew.
- Lean penury within that pen doth dwell,
- That to his subject lends not some small glory,
- But he that writes of you, if he can tell,
- That you are you, so dignifies his story.
- Let him but copy what in you is writ,
- Not making worse what nature made so clear,
- And such a counterpart shall fame his wit,
- Making his style admired every where.
- You to your beauteous blessings add a curse,
- Being fond on praise, which makes your praises worse.
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- 85
- My tongue-tied muse in manners holds her still,
- While comments of your praise richly compiled,
- Reserve their character with golden quill,
- And precious phrase by all the Muses filed.
- I think good thoughts, whilst other write good words,
- And like unlettered clerk still cry Amen,
- To every hymn that able spirit affords,
- In polished form of well refined pen.
- Hearing you praised, I say 'tis so, 'tis true,
- And to the most of praise add something more,
- But that is in my thought, whose love to you
- (Though words come hindmost) holds his rank before,
- Then others, for the breath of words respect,
- Me for my dumb thoughts, speaking in effect.
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- 86
- Was it the proud full sail of his great verse,
- Bound for the prize of (all too precious) you,
- That did my ripe thoughts in my brain inhearse,
- Making their tomb the womb wherein they grew?
- Was it his spirit, by spirits taught to write,
- Above a mortal pitch, that struck me dead?
- No, neither he, nor his compeers by night
- Giving him aid, my verse astonished.
- He nor that affable familiar ghost
- Which nightly gulls him with intelligence,
- As victors of my silence cannot boast,
- I was not sick of any fear from thence.
- But when your countenance filled up his line,
- Then lacked I matter, that enfeebled mine.
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- 87
- Farewell! thou art too dear for my possessing,
- And like enough thou know'st thy estimate,
- The charter of thy worth gives thee releasing:
- My bonds in thee are all determinate.
- For how do I hold thee but by thy granting,
- And for that riches where is my deserving?
- The cause of this fair gift in me is wanting,
- And so my patent back again is swerving.
- Thy self thou gav'st, thy own worth then not knowing,
- Or me to whom thou gav'st it, else mistaking,
- So thy great gift upon misprision growing,
- Comes home again, on better judgement making.
- Thus have I had thee as a dream doth flatter,
- In sleep a king, but waking no such matter.
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- 88
- When thou shalt be disposed to set me light,
- And place my merit in the eye of scorn,
- Upon thy side, against my self I'll fight,
- And prove thee virtuous, though thou art forsworn:
- With mine own weakness being best acquainted,
- Upon thy part I can set down a story
- Of faults concealed, wherein I am attainted:
- That thou in losing me, shalt win much glory:
- And I by this will be a gainer too,
- For bending all my loving thoughts on thee,
- The injuries that to my self I do,
- Doing thee vantage, double-vantage me.
- Such is my love, to thee I so belong,
- That for thy right, my self will bear all wrong.
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- 89
- Say that thou didst forsake me for some fault,
- And I will comment upon that offence,
- Speak of my lameness, and I straight will halt:
- Against thy reasons making no defence.
- Thou canst not (love) disgrace me half so ill,
- To set a form upon desired change,
- As I'll my self disgrace, knowing thy will,
- I will acquaintance strangle and look strange:
- Be absent from thy walks and in my tongue,
- Thy sweet beloved name no more shall dwell,
- Lest I (too much profane) should do it wronk:
- And haply of our old acquaintance tell.
- For thee, against my self I'll vow debate,
- For I must ne'er love him whom thou dost hate.
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- 90
- Then hate me when thou wilt, if ever, now,
- Now while the world is bent my deeds to cross,
- join with the spite of fortune, make me bow,
- And do not drop in for an after-loss:
- Ah do not, when my heart hath 'scaped this sorrow,
- Come in the rearward of a conquered woe,
- Give not a windy night a rainy morrow,
- To linger out a purposed overthrow.
- If thou wilt leave me, do not leave me last,
- When other petty griefs have done their spite,
- But in the onset come, so shall I taste
- At first the very worst of fortune's might.
- And other strains of woe, which now seem woe,
- Compared with loss of thee, will not seem so.
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- 91
- Some glory in their birth, some in their skill,
- Some in their wealth, some in their body's force,
- Some in their garments though new-fangled ill:
- Some in their hawks and hounds, some in their horse.
- And every humour hath his adjunct pleasure,
- Wherein it finds a joy above the rest,
- But these particulars are not my measure,
- All these I better in one general best.
- Thy love is better than high birth to me,
- Richer than wealth, prouder than garments' costs,
- Of more delight than hawks and horses be:
- And having thee, of all men's pride I boast.
- Wretched in this alone, that thou mayst take,
- All this away, and me most wretchcd make.
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- 92
- But do thy worst to steal thy self away,
- For term of life thou art assured mine,
- And life no longer than thy love will stay,
- For it depends upon that love of thine.
- Then need I not to fear the worst of wrongs,
- When in the least of them my life hath end,
- I see, a better state to me belongs
- Than that, which on thy humour doth depend.
- Thou canst not vex me with inconstant mind,
- Since that my life on thy revolt doth lie,
- O what a happy title do I find,
- Happy to have thy love, happy to die!
- But what's so blessed-fair that fears no blot?
- Thou mayst be false, and yet I know it not.
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- 93
- So shall I live, supposing thou art true,
- Like a deceived husband, so love's face,
- May still seem love to me, though altered new:
- Thy looks with me, thy heart in other place.
- For there can live no hatred in thine eye,
- Therefore in that I cannot know thy change,
- In many's looks, the false heart's history
- Is writ in moods and frowns and wrinkles strange.
- But heaven in thy creation did decree,
- That in thy face sweet love should ever dwell,
- Whate'er thy thoughts, or thy heart's workings be,
- Thy looks should nothing thence, but sweetness tell.
- How like Eve's apple doth thy beauty grow,
- If thy sweet virtue answer not thy show.
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- 94
- They that have power to hurt, and will do none,
- That do not do the thing, they most do show,
- Who moving others, are themselves as stone,
- Unmoved, cold, and to temptation slow:
- They rightly do inherit heaven's graces,
- And husband nature's riches from expense,
- Tibey are the lords and owners of their faces,
- Others, but stewards of their excellence:
- The summer's flower is to the summer sweet,
- Though to it self, it only live and die,
- But if that flower with base infection meet,
- The basest weed outbraves his dignity:
- For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds,
- Lilies that fester, smell far worse than weeds.
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- 95
- How sweet and lovely dost thou make the shame,
- Which like a canker in the fragrant rose,
- Doth spot the beauty of thy budding name!
- O in what sweets dost thou thy sins enclose!
- That tongue that tells the story of thy days,
- (Making lascivious comments on thy sport)
- Cannot dispraise, but in a kind of praise,
- Naming thy name, blesses an ill report.
- O what a mansion have those vices got,
- Which for their habitation chose out thee,
- Where beauty's veil doth cover every blot,
- And all things turns to fair, that eyes can see!
- Take heed (dear heart) of this large privilege,
- The hardest knife ill-used doth lose his edge.
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- 96
- Some say thy fault is youth, some wantonness,
- Some say thy grace is youth and gentle sport,
- Both grace and faults are loved of more and less:
- Thou mak'st faults graces, that to thee resort:
- As on the finger of a throned queen,
- The basest jewel will be well esteemed:
- So are those errors that in thee are seen,
- To truths translated, and for true things deemed.
- How many lambs might the stern wolf betray,
- If like a lamb he could his looks translate!
- How many gazers mightst thou lead away,
- if thou wouldst use the strength of all thy state!
- But do not so, I love thee in such sort,
- As thou being mine, mine is thy good report.
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- 97
- How like a winter hath my absence been
- From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year!
- What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen!
- What old December's bareness everywhere!
- And yet this time removed was summer's time,
- The teeming autumn big with rich increase,
- Bearing the wanton burden of the prime,
- Like widowed wombs after their lords' decease:
- Yet this abundant issue seemed to me
- But hope of orphans, and unfathered fruit,
- For summer and his pleasures wait on thee,
- And thou away, the very birds are mute.
- Or if they sing, 'tis with so dull a cheer,
- That leaves look pale, dreading the winter's near.
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- 98
- From you have I been absent in the spring,
- When proud-pied April (dressed in all his trim)
- Hath put a spirit of youth in every thing:
- That heavy Saturn laughed and leaped with him.
- Yet nor the lays of birds, nor the sweet smell
- Of different flowers in odour and in hue,
- Could make me any summer's story tell:
- Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew:
- Nor did I wonder at the lily's white,
- Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose,
- They were but sweet, but figures of delight:
- Drawn after you, you pattern of all those.
- Yet seemed it winter still, and you away,
- As with your shadow I with these did play.
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- 99
- The forward violet thus did I chide,
- Sweet thief, whence didst thou steal thy sweet that smells,
- If not from my love's breath? The purple pride
- Which on thy soft check for complexion dwells,
- In my love's veins thou hast too grossly dyed.
- The lily I condemned for thy hand,
- And buds of marjoram had stol'n thy hair,
- The roses fearfully on thorns did stand,
- One blushing shame, another white despair:
- A third nor red, nor white, had stol'n of both,
- And to his robbery had annexed thy breath,
- But for his theft in pride of all his growth
- A vengeful canker eat him up to death.
- More flowers I noted, yet I none could see,
- But sweet, or colour it had stol'n from thee.
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- 100
- Where art thou Muse that thou forget'st so long,
- To speak of that which gives thee all thy might?
- Spend'st thou thy fury on some worthless song,
- Darkening thy power to lend base subjects light?
- Return forgetful Muse, and straight redeem,
- In gentle numbers time so idly spent,
- Sing to the ear that doth thy lays esteem,
- And gives thy pen both skill and argument.
- Rise resty Muse, my love's sweet face survey,
- If time have any wrinkle graven there,
- If any, be a satire to decay,
- And make time's spoils despised everywhere.
- Give my love fame faster than Time wastes life,
- So thou prevent'st his scythe, and crooked knife.
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- 101
- O truant Muse what shall be thy amends,
- For thy neglect of truth in beauty dyed?
- Both truth and beauty on my love depends:
- So dost thou too, and therein dignified:
- Make answer Muse, wilt thou not haply say,
- 'Truth needs no colour with his colour fixed,
- Beauty no pencil, beauty's truth to lay:
- But best is best, if never intermixed'?
- Because he needs no praise, wilt thou be dumb?
- Excuse not silence so, for't lies in thee,
- To make him much outlive a gilded tomb:
- And to be praised of ages yet to be.
- Then do thy office Muse, I teach thee how,
- To make him seem long hence, as he shows now.
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- 102
- My love is strengthened though more weak in seeming,
- I love not less, though less the show appear,
- That love is merchandized, whose rich esteeming,
- The owner's tongue doth publish every where.
- Our love was new, and then but in the spring,
- When I was wont to greet it with my lays,
- As Philomel in summer's front doth sing,
- And stops her pipe in growth of riper days:
- Not that the summer is less pleasant now
- Than when her mournful hymns did hush the night,
- But that wild music burthens every bough,
- And sweets grown common lose their dear delight.
- Therefore like her, I sometime hold my tongue:
- Because I would not dull you with my song.
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- 103
- Alack what poverty my muse brings forth,
- That having such a scope to show her pride,
- The argument all bare is of more worth
- Than when it hath my added praise beside.
- O blame me not if I no more can write!
- Look in your glass and there appears a face,
- That over-goes my blunt invention quite,
- Dulling my lines, and doing me disgrace.
- Were it not sinful then striving to mend,
- To mar the subject that before was well?
- For to no other pass my verses tend,
- Than of your graces and your gifts to tell.
- And more, much more than in my verse can sit,
- Your own glass shows you, when you look in it.
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- 104
- To me fair friend you never can be old,
- For as you were when first your eye I eyed,
- Such seems your beauty still: three winters cold,
- Have from the forests shook three summers' pride,
- Three beauteous springs to yellow autumn turned,
- In process of the seasons have I seen,
- Three April perfumes in three hot Junes burned,
- Since first I saw you fresh which yet are green.
- Ah yet doth beauty like a dial hand,
- Steal from his figure, and no pace perceived,
- So your sweet hue, which methinks still doth stand
- Hath motion, and mine eye may be deceived.
- For fear of which, hear this thou age unbred,
- Ere you were born was beauty's summer dead.
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- 105
- Let not my love be called idolatry,
- Nor my beloved as an idol show,
- Since all alike my songs and praises be
- To one, of one, still such, and ever so.
- Kind is my love to-day, to-morrow kind,
- Still constant in a wondrous excellence,
- Therefore my verse to constancy confined,
- One thing expressing, leaves out difference.
- Fair, kind, and true, is all my argument,
- Fair, kind, and true, varying to other words,
- And in this change is my invention spent,
- Three themes in one, which wondrous scope affords.
- Fair, kind, and true, have often lived alone.
- Which three till now, never kept seat in one.
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- 106
- When in the chronicle of wasted time,
- I see descriptions of the fairest wights,
- And beauty making beautiful old rhyme,
- In praise of ladies dead, and lovely knights,
- Then in the blazon of sweet beauty's best,
- Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow,
- I see their antique pen would have expressed,
- Even such a beauty as you master now.
- So all their praises are but prophecies
- Of this our time, all you prefiguring,
- And for they looked but with divining eyes,
- They had not skill enough your worth to sing:
- For we which now behold these present days,
- Have eyes to wonder, but lack tongues to praise.
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- 107
- Not mine own fears, nor the prophetic soul,
- Of the wide world, dreaming on things to come,
- Can yet the lease of my true love control,
- Supposed as forfeit to a confined doom.
- The mortal moon hath her eclipse endured,
- And the sad augurs mock their own presage,
- Incertainties now crown themselves assured,
- And peace proclaims olives of endless age.
- Now with the drops of this most balmy time,
- My love looks fresh, and death to me subscribes,
- Since spite of him I'll live in this poor rhyme,
- While he insults o'er dull and speechless tribes.
- And thou in this shalt find thy monument,
- When tyrants' crests and tombs of brass are spent.
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- 108
- What's in the brain that ink may character,
- Which hath not figured to thee my true spirit,
- What's new to speak, what now to register,
- That may express my love, or thy dear merit?
- Nothing sweet boy, but yet like prayers divine,
- I must each day say o'er the very same,
- Counting no old thing old, thou mine, I thine,
- Even as when first I hallowed thy fair name.
- So that eternal love in love's fresh case,
- Weighs not the dust and injury of age,
- Nor gives to necessary wrinkles place,
- But makes antiquity for aye his page,
- Finding the first conceit of love there bred,
- Where time and outward form would show it dead.
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- 109
- O never say that I was false of heart,
- Though absence seemed my flame to qualify,
- As easy might I from my self depart,
- As from my soul which in thy breast doth lie:
- That is my home of love, if I have ranged,
- Like him that travels I return again,
- Just to the time, not with the time exchanged,
- So that my self bring water for my stain,
- Never believe though in my nature reigned,
- All frailties that besiege all kinds of blood,
- That it could so preposterously be stained,
- To leave for nothing all thy sum of good:
- For nothing this wide universe I call,
- Save thou my rose, in it thou art my all.
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- 110
- Alas 'tis true, I have gone here and there,
- And made my self a motley to the view,
- Gored mine own thoughts, sold cheap what is most dear,
- Made old offences of affections new.
- Most true it is, that I have looked on truth
- Askance and strangely: but by all above,
- These blenches gave my heart another youth,
- And worse essays proved thee my best of love.
- Now all is done, have what shall have no end,
- Mine appetite I never more will grind
- On newer proof, to try an older friend,
- A god in love, to whom I am confined.
- Then give me welcome, next my heaven the best,
- Even to thy pure and most most loving breast.
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- 111
- O for my sake do you with Fortune chide,
- The guilty goddess of my harmful deeds,
- That did not better for my life provide,
- Than public means which public manners breeds.
- Thence comes it that my name receives a brand,
- And almost thence my nature is subdued
- To what it works in, like the dyer's hand:
- Pity me then, and wish I were renewed,
- Whilst like a willing patient I will drink,
- Potions of eisel 'gainst my strong infection,
- No bitterness that I will bitter think,
- Nor double penance to correct correction.
- Pity me then dear friend, and I assure ye,
- Even that your pity is enough to cure me.
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- 112
- Your love and pity doth th' impression fill,
- Which vulgar scandal stamped upon my brow,
- For what care I who calls me well or ill,
- So you o'er-green my bad, my good allow?
- You are my all the world, and I must strive,
- To know my shames and praises from your tongue,
- None else to me, nor I to none alive,
- That my steeled sense or changes right or wrong.
- In so profound abysm I throw all care
- Of others' voices, that my adder's sense,
- To critic and to flatterer stopped are:
- Mark how with my neglect I do dispense.
- You are so strongly in my purpose bred,
- That all the world besides methinks are dead.
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- 113
- Since I left you, mine eye is in my mind,
- And that which governs me to go about,
- Doth part his function, and is partly blind,
- Seems seeing, but effectually is out:
- For it no form delivers to the heart
- Of bird, of flower, or shape which it doth latch,
- Of his quick objects hath the mind no part,
- Nor his own vision holds what it doth catch:
- For if it see the rud'st or gentlest sight,
- The most sweet favour or deformed'st creature,
- The mountain, or the sea, the day, or night:
- The crow, or dove, it shapes them to your feature.
- Incapable of more, replete with you,
- My most true mind thus maketh mine untrue.
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- 114
- Or whether doth my mind being crowned with you
- Drink up the monarch's plague this flattery?
- Or whether shall I say mine eye saith true,
- And that your love taught it this alchemy?
- To make of monsters, and things indigest,
- Such cherubins as your sweet self resemble,
- Creating every bad a perfect best
- As fast as objects to his beams assemble:
- O 'tis the first, 'tis flattery in my seeing,
- And my great mind most kingly drinks it up,
- Mine eye well knows what with his gust is 'greeing,
- And to his palate doth prepare the cup.
- If it be poisoned, 'tis the lesser sin,
- That mine eye loves it and doth first begin.
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- 115
- Those lines that I before have writ do lie,
- Even those that said I could not love you dearer,
- Yet then my judgment knew no reason why,
- My most full flame should afterwards burn clearer,
- But reckoning time, whose millioned accidents
- Creep in 'twixt vows, and change decrees of kings,
- Tan sacred beauty, blunt the sharp'st intents,
- Divert strong minds to the course of alt'ring things:
- Alas why fearing of time's tyranny,
- Might I not then say 'Now I love you best,'
- When I was certain o'er incertainty,
- Crowning the present, doubting of the rest?
- Love is a babe, then might I not say so
- To give full growth to that which still doth grow.
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- 116
- Let me not to the marriage of true minds
- Admit impediments, love is not love
- Which alters when it alteration finds,
- Or bends with the remover to remove.
- O no, it is an ever-fixed mark
- That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
- It is the star to every wand'ring bark,
- Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
- Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
- Within his bending sickle's compass come,
- Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
- But bears it out even to the edge of doom:
- If this be error and upon me proved,
- I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
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- 117
- Accuse me thus, that I have scanted all,
- Wherein I should your great deserts repay,
- Forgot upon your dearest love to call,
- Whereto all bonds do tie me day by day,
- That I have frequent been with unknown minds,
- And given to time your own dear-purchased right,
- That I have hoisted sail to all the winds
- Which should transport me farthest from your sight.
- Book both my wilfulness and errors down,
- And on just proof surmise, accumulate,
- Bring me within the level of your frown,
- But shoot not at me in your wakened hate:
- Since my appeal says I did strive to prove
- The constancy and virtue of your love.
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- 118
- Like as to make our appetite more keen
- With eager compounds we our palate urge,
- As to prevent our maladies unseen,
- We sicken to shun sickness when we purge.
- Even so being full of your ne'er-cloying sweetness,
- To bitter sauces did I frame my feeding;
- And sick of welfare found a kind of meetness,
- To be diseased ere that there was true needing.
- Thus policy in love t' anticipate
- The ills that were not, grew to faults assured,
- And brought to medicine a healthful state
- Which rank of goodness would by ill be cured.
- But thence I learn and find the lesson true,
- Drugs poison him that so feil sick of you.
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- 119
- What potions have I drunk of Siren tears
- Distilled from limbecks foul as hell within,
- Applying fears to hopes, and hopes to fears,
- Still losing when I saw my self to win!
- What wretched errors hath my heart committed,
- Whilst it hath thought it self so blessed never!
- How have mine eyes out of their spheres been fitted
- In the distraction of this madding fever!
- O benefit of ill, now I find true
- That better is, by evil still made better.
- And ruined love when it is built anew
- Grows fairer than at first, more strong, far greater.
- So I return rebuked to my content,
- And gain by ills thrice more than I have spent.
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- 120
- That you were once unkind befriends me now,
- And for that sorrow, which I then did feel,
- Needs must I under my transgression bow,
- Unless my nerves were brass or hammered steel.
- For if you were by my unkindness shaken
- As I by yours, y'have passed a hell of time,
- And I a tyrant have no leisure taken
- To weigh how once I suffered in your crime.
- O that our night of woe might have remembered
- My deepest sense, how hard true sorrow hits,
- And soon to you, as you to me then tendered
- The humble salve, which wounded bosoms fits!
- But that your trespass now becomes a fee,
- Mine ransoms yours, and yours must ransom me.
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- 121
- 'Tis better to be vile than vile esteemed,
- When not to be, receives reproach of being,
- And the just pleasure lost, which is so deemed,
- Not by our feeling, but by others' seeing.
- For why should others' false adulterate eyes
- Give salutation to my sportive blood?
- Or on my frailties why are frailer spies,
- Which in their wills count bad what I think good?
- No, I am that I am, and they that level
- At my abuses, reckon up their own,
- I may be straight though they themselves be bevel;
- By their rank thoughts, my deeds must not be shown
- Unless this general evil they maintain,
- All men are bad and in their badness reign.
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- 122
- Thy gift, thy tables, are within my brain
- Full charactered with lasting memory,
- Which shall above that idle rank remain
- Beyond all date even to eternity.
- Or at the least, so long as brain and heart
- Have faculty by nature to subsist,
- Till each to razed oblivion yield his part
- Of thee, thy record never can be missed:
- That poor retention could not so much hold,
- Nor need I tallies thy dear love to score,
- Therefore to give them from me was I bold,
- To trust those tables that receive thee more:
- To keep an adjunct to remember thee
- Were to import forgetfulness in me.
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- 123
- No! Time, thou shalt not boast that I do change,
- Thy pyramids built up with newer might
- To me are nothing novel, nothing strange,
- They are but dressings Of a former sight:
- Our dates are brief, and therefore we admire,
- What thou dost foist upon us that is old,
- And rather make them born to our desire,
- Than think that we before have heard them told:
- Thy registers and thee I both defy,
- Not wond'ring at the present, nor the past,
- For thy records, and what we see doth lie,
- Made more or less by thy continual haste:
- This I do vow and this shall ever be,
- I will be true despite thy scythe and thee.
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- 124
- If my dear love were but the child of state,
- It might for Fortune's bastard be unfathered,
- As subject to time's love or to time's hate,
- Weeds among weeds, or flowers with flowers gathered.
- No it was builded far from accident,
- It suffers not in smiling pomp, nor falls
- Under the blow of thralled discontent,
- Whereto th' inviting time our fashion calls:
- It fears not policy that heretic,
- Which works on leases of short-numbered hours,
- But all alone stands hugely politic,
- That it nor grows with heat, nor drowns with showers.
- To this I witness call the fools of time,
- Which die for goodness, who have lived for crime.
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- 125
- Were't aught to me I bore the canopy,
- With my extern the outward honouring,
- Or laid great bases for eternity,
- Which proves more short than waste or ruining?
- Have I not seen dwellers on form and favour
- Lose all, and more by paying too much rent
- For compound sweet; forgoing simple savour,
- Pitiful thrivers in their gazing spent?
- No, let me be obsequious in thy heart,
- And take thou my oblation, poor but free,
- Which is not mixed with seconds, knows no art,
- But mutual render, only me for thee.
- Hence, thou suborned informer, a true soul
- When most impeached, stands least in thy control.
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- 126
- O thou my lovely boy who in thy power,
- Dost hold Time's fickle glass his fickle hour:
- Who hast by waning grown, and therein show'st,
- Thy lovers withering, as thy sweet self grow'st.
- If Nature (sovereign mistress over wrack)
- As thou goest onwards still will pluck thee back,
- She keeps thee to this purpose, that her skill
- May time disgrace, and wretched minutes kill.
- Yet fear her O thou minion of her pleasure,
- She may detain, but not still keep her treasure!
- Her audit (though delayed) answered must be,
- And her quietus is to render thee.
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- 127
- In the old age black was not counted fair,
- Or if it were it bore not beauty's name:
- But now is black beauty's successive heir,
- And beauty slandered with a bastard shame,
- For since each hand hath put on nature's power,
- Fairing the foul with art's false borrowed face,
- Sweet beauty hath no name no holy bower,
- But is profaned, if not lives in disgrace.
- Therefore my mistress' eyes are raven black,
- Her eyes so suited, and they mourners seem,
- At such who not born fair no beauty lack,
- Slandering creation with a false esteem,
- Yet so they mourn becoming of their woe,
- That every tongue says beauty should look so.
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- 128
- How oft when thou, my music, music play'st,
- Upon that blessed wood whose motion sounds
- With thy sweet fingers when thou gently sway'st
- The wiry concord that mine ear confounds,
- Do I envy those jacks that nimble leap,
- To kiss the tender inward of thy hand,
- Whilst my poor lips which should that harvest reap,
- At the wood's boldness by thee blushing stand.
- To be so tickled they would change their state
- And situation with those dancing chips,
- O'er whom thy fingers walk with gentle gait,
- Making dead wood more blest than living lips,
- Since saucy jacks so happy are in this,
- Give them thy fingers, me thy lips to kiss.
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- 129
- Th' expense of spirit in a waste of shame
- Is lust in action, and till action, lust
- Is perjured, murd'rous, bloody full of blame,
- Savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust,
- Enjoyed no sooner but despised straight,
- Past reason hunted, and no sooner had
- Past reason hated as a swallowed bait,
- On purpose laid to make the taker mad.
- Mad in pursuit and in possession so,
- Had, having, and in quest, to have extreme,
- A bliss in proof and proved, a very woe,
- Before a joy proposed behind a dream.
- All this the world well knows yet none knows well,
- To shun the heaven that leads men to this hell.
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- 130
- My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun,
- Coral is far more red, than her lips red,
- If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun:
- If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head:
- I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
- But no such roses see I in her cheeks,
- And in some perfumes is there more delight,
- Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
- I love to hear her speak, yet well I know,
- That music hath a far more pleasing sound:
- I grant I never saw a goddess go,
- My mistress when she walks treads on the ground.
- And yet by heaven I think my love as rare,
- As any she belied with false compare.
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- 131
- Thou art as tyrannous, so as thou art,
- As those whose beauties proudly make them cruel;
- For well thou know'st to my dear doting heart
- Thou art the fairest and most precious jewel.
- Yet in good faith some say that thee behold,
- Thy face hath not the power to make love groan;
- To say they err, I dare not be so bold,
- Although I swear it to my self alone.
- And to be sure that is not false I swear,
- A thousand groans but thinking on thy face,
- One on another's neck do witness bear
- Thy black is fairest in my judgment's place.
- In nothing art thou black save in thy deeds,
- And thence this slander as I think proceeds.
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- 132
- Thine eyes I love, and they as pitying me,
- Knowing thy heart torment me with disdain,
- Have put on black, and loving mourners be,
- Looking with pretty ruth upon my pain.
- And truly not the morning sun of heaven
- Better becomes the grey cheeks of the east,
- Nor that full star that ushers in the even
- Doth half that glory to the sober west
- As those two mourning eyes become thy face:
- O let it then as well beseem thy heart
- To mourn for me since mourning doth thee grace,
- And suit thy pity like in every part.
- Then will I swear beauty herself is black,
- And all they foul that thy complexion lack.
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- 133
- Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groan
- For that deep wound it gives my friend and me;
- Is't not enough to torture me alone,
- But slave to slavery my sweet'st friend must be?
- Me from my self thy cruel eye hath taken,
- And my next self thou harder hast engrossed,
- Of him, my self, and thee I am forsaken,
- A torment thrice three-fold thus to be crossed:
- Prison my heart in thy steel bosom's ward,
- But then my friend's heart let my poor heart bail,
- Whoe'er keeps me, let my heart be his guard,
- Thou canst not then use rigour in my gaol.
- And yet thou wilt, for I being pent in thee,
- Perforce am thine and all that is in me.
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- 134
- So now I have confessed that he is thine,
- And I my self am mortgaged to thy will,
- My self I'll forfeit, so that other mine,
- Thou wilt restore to be my comfort still:
- But thou wilt not, nor he will not be free,
- For thou art covetous, and he is kind,
- He learned but surety-like to write for me,
- Under that bond that him as fist doth bind.
- The statute of thy beauty thou wilt take,
- Thou usurer that put'st forth all to use,
- And sue a friend, came debtor for my sake,
- So him I lose through my unkind abuse.
- Him have I lost, thou hast both him and me,
- He pays the whole, and yet am I not free.
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- 135
- Whoever hath her wish, thou hast thy will,
- And 'Will' to boot, and 'Will' in over-plus,
- More than enough am I that vex thee still,
- To thy sweet will making addition thus.
- Wilt thou whose will is large and spacious,
- Not once vouchsafe to hide my will in thine?
- Shall will in others seem right gracious,
- And in my will no fair acceptance shine?
- The sea all water, yet receives rain still,
- And in abundance addeth to his store,
- So thou being rich in will add to thy will
- One will of mine to make thy large will more.
- Let no unkind, no fair beseechers kill,
- Think all but one, and me in that one 'Will.'
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- 136
- If thy soul check thee that I come so near,
- Swear to thy blind soul that I was thy 'Will',
- And will thy soul knows is admitted there,
- Thus far for love, my love-suit sweet fulfil.
- 'Will', will fulfil the treasure of thy love,
- Ay, fill it full with wills, and my will one,
- In things of great receipt with case we prove,
- Among a number one is reckoned none.
- Then in the number let me pass untold,
- Though in thy store's account I one must be,
- For nothing hold me, so it please thee hold,
- That nothing me, a something sweet to thee.
- Make but my name thy love, and love that still,
- And then thou lov'st me for my name is Will.
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- 137
- Thou blind fool Love, what dost thou to mine eyes,
- That they behold and see not what they see?
- They know what beauty is, see where it lies,
- Yet what the best is, take the worst to be.
- If eyes corrupt by over-partial looks,
- Be anchored in the bay where all men ride,
- Why of eyes' falsehood hast thou forged hooks,
- Whereto the judgment of my heart is tied?
- Why should my heart think that a several plot,
- Which my heart knows the wide world's common place?
- Or mine eyes seeing this, say this is not
- To put fair truth upon so foul a face?
- In things right true my heart and eyes have erred,
- And to this false plague are they now transferred.
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- 138
- When my love swears that she is made of truth,
- I do believe her though I know she lies,
- That she might think me some untutored youth,
- Unlearned in the world's false subtleties.
- Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young,
- Although she knows my days are past the best,
- Simply I credit her false-speaking tongue,
- On both sides thus is simple truth suppressed:
- But wherefore says she not she is unjust?
- And wherefore say not I that I am old?
- O love's best habit is in seeming trust,
- And age in love, loves not to have years told.
- Therefore I lie with her, and she with me,
- And in our faults by lies we flattered be.
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- 139
- O call not me to justify the wrong,
- That thy unkindness lays upon my heart,
- Wound me not with thine eye but with thy tongue,
- Use power with power, and slay me not by art,
- Tell me thou lov'st elsewhere; but in my sight,
- Dear heart forbear to glance thine eye aside,
- What need'st thou wound with cunning when thy might
- Is more than my o'erpressed defence can bide?
- Let me excuse thee, ah my love well knows,
- Her pretty looks have been mine enemies,
- And therefore from my face she turns my foes,
- That they elsewhere might dart their injuries:
- Yet do not so, but since I am near slain,
- Kill me outright with looks, and rid my pain.
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- 140
- Be wise as thou art cruel, do not press
- My tongue-tied patience with too much disdain:
- Lest sorrow lend me words and words express,
- The manner of my pity-wanting pain.
- If I might teach thee wit better it were,
- Though not to love, yet love to tell me so,
- As testy sick men when their deaths be near,
- No news but health from their physicians know.
- For if I should despair I should grow mad,
- And in my madness might speak ill of thee,
- Now this ill-wresting world is grown so bad,
- Mad slanderers by mad ears believed be.
- That I may not be so, nor thou belied,
- Bear thine eyes straight, though thy proud heart go wide.
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- 141
- In faith I do not love thee with mine eyes,
- For they in thee a thousand errors note,
- But 'tis my heart that loves what they despise,
- Who in despite of view is pleased to dote.
- Nor are mine cars with thy tongue's tune delighted,
- Nor tender feeling to base touches prone,
- Nor taste, nor smell, desire to be invited
- To any sensual feast with thee alone:
- But my five wits, nor my five senses can
- Dissuade one foolish heart from serving thee,
- Who leaves unswayed the likeness of a man,
- Thy proud heart's slave and vassal wretch to be:
- Only my plague thus far I count my gain,
- That she that makes me sin, awards me pain.
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- 142
- Love is my sin, and thy dear virtue hate,
- Hate of my sin, grounded on sinful loving,
- O but with mine, compare thou thine own state,
- And thou shalt find it merits not reproving,
- Or if it do, not from those lips of thine,
- That have profaned their scarlet ornaments,
- And sealed false bonds of love as oft as mine,
- Robbed others' beds' revenues of their rents.
- Be it lawful I love thee as thou lov'st those,
- Whom thine eyes woo as mine importune thee,
- Root pity in thy heart that when it grows,
- Thy pity may deserve to pitied be.
- If thou dost seek to have what thou dost hide,
- By self-example mayst thou be denied.
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- 143
- Lo as a careful huswife runs to catch,
- One of her feathered creatures broke away,
- Sets down her babe and makes all swift dispatch
- In pursuit of the thing she would have stay:
- Whilst her neglected child holds her in chase,
- Cries to catch her whose busy care is bent,
- To follow that which flies before her face:
- Not prizing her poor infant's discontent;
- So run'st thou after that which flies from thee,
- Whilst I thy babe chase thee afar behind,
- But if thou catch thy hope turn back to me:
- And play the mother's part, kiss me, be kind.
- So will I pray that thou mayst have thy Will,
- If thou turn back and my loud crying still.
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- 144
- Two loves I have of comfort and despair,
- Which like two spirits do suggest me still,
- The better angel is a man right fair:
- The worser spirit a woman coloured ill.
- To win me soon to hell my female evil,
- Tempteth my better angel from my side,
- And would corrupt my saint to be a devil:
- Wooing his purity with her foul pride.
- And whether that my angel be turned fiend,
- Suspect I may, yet not directly tell,
- But being both from me both to each friend,
- I guess one angel in another's hell.
- Yet this shall I ne'er know but live in doubt,
- Till my bad angel fire my good one out.
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- 145
- Those lips that Love's own hand did make,
- Breathed forth the sound that said 'I hate',
- To me that languished for her sake:
- But when she saw my woeful state,
- Straight in her heart did mercy come,
- Chiding that tongue that ever sweet,
- Was used in giving gentle doom:
- And taught it thus anew to greet:
- 'I hate' she altered with an end,
- That followed it as gentle day,
- Doth follow night who like a fiend
- From heaven to hell is flown away.
- 'I hate', from hate away she threw,
- And saved my life saying 'not you'.
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- 146
- Poor soul the centre of my sinful earth,
- My sinful earth these rebel powers array,
- Why dost thou pine within and suffer dearth
- Painting thy outward walls so costly gay?
- Why so large cost having so short a lease,
- Dost thou upon thy fading mansion spend?
- Shall worms inheritors of this excess
- Eat up thy charge? is this thy body's end?
- Then soul live thou upon thy servant's loss,
- And let that pine to aggravate thy store;
- Buy terms divine in selling hours of dross;
- Within be fed, without be rich no more,
- So shall thou feed on death, that feeds on men,
- And death once dead, there's no more dying then.
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- 147
- My love is as a fever longing still,
- For that which longer nurseth the disease,
- Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill,
- Th' uncertain sickly appetite to please:
- My reason the physician to my love,
- Angry that his prescriptions are not kept
- Hath left me, and I desperate now approve,
- Desire is death, which physic did except.
- Past cure I am, now reason is past care,
- And frantic-mad with evermore unrest,
- My thoughts and my discourse as mad men's are,
- At random from the truth vainly expressed.
- For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright,
- Who art as black as hell, as dark as night.
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- 148
- O me! what eyes hath love put in my head,
- Which have no correspondence with true sight,
- Or if they have, where is my judgment fled,
- That censures falsely what they see aright?
- If that be fair whereon my false eyes dote,
- What means the world to say it is not so?
- If it be not, then love doth well denote,
- Love's eye is not so true as all men's: no,
- How can it? O how can love's eye be true,
- That is so vexed with watching and with tears?
- No marvel then though I mistake my view,
- The sun it self sees not, till heaven clears.
- O cunning love, with tears thou keep'st me blind,
- Lest eyes well-seeing thy foul faults should find.
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- 149
- Canst thou O cruel, say I love thee not,
- When I against my self with thee partake?
- Do I not think on thee when I forgot
- Am of my self, all-tyrant, for thy sake?
- Who hateth thee that I do call my friend,
- On whom frown'st thou that I do fawn upon,
- Nay if thou lour'st on me do I not spend
- Revenge upon my self with present moan?
- What merit do I in my self respect,
- That is so proud thy service to despise,
- When all my best doth worship thy defect,
- Commanded by the motion of thine eyes?
- But love hate on for now I know thy mind,
- Those that can see thou lov'st, and I am blind.
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- 150
- O from what power hast thou this powerful might,
- With insufficiency my heart to sway,
- To make me give the lie to my true sight,
- And swear that brightness doth not grace the day?
- Whence hast thou this becoming of things ill,
- That in the very refuse of thy deeds,
- There is such strength and warrantise of skill,
- That in my mind thy worst all best exceeds?
- Who taught thee how to make me love thee more,
- The more I hear and see just cause of hate?
- O though I love what others do abhor,
- With others thou shouldst not abhor my state.
- If thy unworthiness raised love in me,
- More worthy I to be beloved of thee.
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- 151
- Love is too young to know what conscience is,
- Yet who knows not conscience is born of love?
- Then gentle cheater urge not my amiss,
- Lest guilty of my faults thy sweet self prove.
- For thou betraying me, I do betray
- My nobler part to my gross body's treason,
- My soul doth tell my body that he may,
- Triumph in love, flesh stays no farther reason,
- But rising at thy name doth point out thee,
- As his triumphant prize, proud of this pride,
- He is contented thy poor drudge to be,
- To stand in thy affairs, fall by thy side.
- No want of conscience hold it that I call,
- Her love, for whose dear love I rise and fall.
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- 152
- In loving thee thou know'st I am forsworn,
- But thou art twice forsworn to me love swearing,
- In act thy bed-vow broke and new faith torn,
- In vowing new hate after new love bearing:
- But why of two oaths' breach do I accuse thee,
- When I break twenty? I am perjured most,
- For all my vows are oaths but to misuse thee:
- And all my honest faith in thee is lost.
- For I have sworn deep oaths of thy deep kindness:
- Oaths of thy love, thy truth, thy constancy,
- And to enlighten thee gave eyes to blindness,
- Or made them swear against the thing they see.
- For I have sworn thee fair: more perjured I,
- To swear against the truth so foul a be.
-
-
- 153
- Cupid laid by his brand and fell asleep,
- A maid of Dian's this advantage found,
- And his love-kindling fire did quickly steep
- In a cold valley-fountain of that ground:
- Which borrowed from this holy fire of Love,
- A dateless lively heat still to endure,
- And grew a seeting bath which yet men prove,
- Against strange maladies a sovereign cure:
- But at my mistress' eye Love's brand new-fired,
- The boy for trial needs would touch my breast,
- I sick withal the help of bath desired,
- And thither hied a sad distempered guest.
- But found no cure, the bath for my help lies,
- Where Cupid got new fire; my mistress' eyes.
-
-
- 154
- The little Love-god lying once asleep,
- Laid by his side his heart-inflaming brand,
- Whilst many nymphs that vowed chaste life to keep,
- Came tripping by, but in her maiden hand,
- The fairest votary took up that fire,
- Which many legions of true hearts had warmed,
- And so the general of hot desire,
- Was sleeping by a virgin hand disarmed.
- This brand she quenched in a cool well by,
- Which from Love's fire took heat perpetual,
- Growing a bath and healthful remedy,
- For men discased, but I my mistress' thrall,
- Came there for cure and this by that I prove,
- Love's fire heats water, water cools not love.
-
-
-THE END
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-
-
-1603
-
-ALLS WELL THAT ENDS WELL
-
-by William Shakespeare
-
-
-Dramatis Personae
-
- KING OF FRANCE
- THE DUKE OF FLORENCE
- BERTRAM, Count of Rousillon
- LAFEU, an old lord
- PAROLLES, a follower of Bertram
- TWO FRENCH LORDS, serving with Bertram
-
- STEWARD, Servant to the Countess of Rousillon
- LAVACHE, a clown and Servant to the Countess of Rousillon
- A PAGE, Servant to the Countess of Rousillon
-
- COUNTESS OF ROUSILLON, mother to Bertram
- HELENA, a gentlewoman protected by the Countess
- A WIDOW OF FLORENCE.
- DIANA, daughter to the Widow
-
-
- VIOLENTA, neighbour and friend to the Widow
- MARIANA, neighbour and friend to the Widow
-
- Lords, Officers, Soldiers, etc., French and Florentine
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-
-SCENE:
-Rousillon; Paris; Florence; Marseilles
-
-
-ACT I. SCENE 1.
-Rousillon. The COUNT'S palace
-
-Enter BERTRAM, the COUNTESS OF ROUSILLON, HELENA, and LAFEU, all in black
-
- COUNTESS. In delivering my son from me, I bury a second husband.
- BERTRAM. And I in going, madam, weep o'er my father's death anew;
- but I must attend his Majesty's command, to whom I am now in
- ward, evermore in subjection.
- LAFEU. You shall find of the King a husband, madam; you, sir, a
- father. He that so generally is at all times good must of
- necessity hold his virtue to you, whose worthiness would stir it
- up where it wanted, rather than lack it where there is such
- abundance.
- COUNTESS. What hope is there of his Majesty's amendment?
- LAFEU. He hath abandon'd his physicians, madam; under whose
- practices he hath persecuted time with hope, and finds no other
- advantage in the process but only the losing of hope by time.
- COUNTESS. This young gentlewoman had a father- O, that 'had,' how
- sad a passage 'tis!-whose skill was almost as great as his
- honesty; had it stretch'd so far, would have made nature
- immortal, and death should have play for lack of work. Would, for
- the King's sake, he were living! I think it would be the death of
- the King's disease.
- LAFEU. How call'd you the man you speak of, madam?
- COUNTESS. He was famous, sir, in his profession, and it was his
- great right to be so- Gerard de Narbon.
- LAFEU. He was excellent indeed, madam; the King very lately spoke
- of him admiringly and mourningly; he was skilful enough to have
- liv'd still, if knowledge could be set up against mortality.
- BERTRAM. What is it, my good lord, the King languishes of?
- LAFEU. A fistula, my lord.
- BERTRAM. I heard not of it before.
- LAFEU. I would it were not notorious. Was this gentlewoman the
- daughter of Gerard de Narbon?
- COUNTESS. His sole child, my lord, and bequeathed to my
- overlooking. I have those hopes of her good that her education
- promises; her dispositions she inherits, which makes fair gifts
- fairer; for where an unclean mind carries virtuous qualities,
- there commendations go with pity-they are virtues and traitors
- too. In her they are the better for their simpleness; she derives
- her honesty, and achieves her goodness.
- LAFEU. Your commendations, madam, get from her tears.
- COUNTESS. 'Tis the best brine a maiden can season her praise in.
- The remembrance of her father never approaches her heart but the
- tyranny of her sorrows takes all livelihood from her cheek. No
- more of this, Helena; go to, no more, lest it be rather thought
- you affect a sorrow than to have-
- HELENA. I do affect a sorrow indeed, but I have it too.
- LAFEU. Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead: excessive
- grief the enemy to the living.
- COUNTESS. If the living be enemy to the grief, the excess makes it
- soon mortal.
- BERTRAM. Madam, I desire your holy wishes.
- LAFEU. How understand we that?
- COUNTESS. Be thou blest, Bertram, and succeed thy father
- In manners, as in shape! Thy blood and virtue
- Contend for empire in thee, and thy goodness
- Share with thy birthright! Love all, trust a few,
- Do wrong to none; be able for thine enemy
- Rather in power than use, and keep thy friend
- Under thy own life's key; be check'd for silence,
- But never tax'd for speech. What heaven more will,
- That thee may furnish, and my prayers pluck down,
- Fall on thy head! Farewell. My lord,
- 'Tis an unseason'd courtier; good my lord,
- Advise him.
- LAFEU. He cannot want the best
- That shall attend his love.
- COUNTESS. Heaven bless him! Farewell, Bertram. Exit
- BERTRAM. The best wishes that can be forg'd in your thoughts be
- servants to you! [To HELENA] Be comfortable to my mother, your
- mistress, and make much of her.
- LAFEU. Farewell, pretty lady; you must hold the credit of your
- father. Exeunt BERTRAM and LAFEU
- HELENA. O, were that all! I think not on my father;
- And these great tears grace his remembrance more
- Than those I shed for him. What was he like?
- I have forgot him; my imagination
- Carries no favour in't but Bertram's.
- I am undone; there is no living, none,
- If Bertram be away. 'Twere all one
- That I should love a bright particular star
- And think to wed it, he is so above me.
- In his bright radiance and collateral light
- Must I be comforted, not in his sphere.
- Th' ambition in my love thus plagues itself:
- The hind that would be mated by the lion
- Must die for love. 'Twas pretty, though a plague,
- To see him every hour; to sit and draw
- His arched brows, his hawking eye, his curls,
- In our heart's table-heart too capable
- Of every line and trick of his sweet favour.
- But now he's gone, and my idolatrous fancy
- Must sanctify his relics. Who comes here?
-
- Enter PAROLLES
-
- [Aside] One that goes with him. I love him for his sake;
- And yet I know him a notorious liar,
- Think him a great way fool, solely a coward;
- Yet these fix'd evils sit so fit in him
- That they take place when virtue's steely bones
- Looks bleak i' th' cold wind; withal, full oft we see
- Cold wisdom waiting on superfluous folly.
- PAROLLES. Save you, fair queen!
- HELENA. And you, monarch!
- PAROLLES. No.
- HELENA. And no.
- PAROLLES. Are you meditating on virginity?
- HELENA. Ay. You have some stain of soldier in you; let me ask you a
- question. Man is enemy to virginity; how may we barricado it
- against him?
- PAROLLES. Keep him out.
- HELENA. But he assails; and our virginity, though valiant in the
- defence, yet is weak. Unfold to us some warlike resistance.
- PAROLLES. There is none. Man, setting down before you, will
- undermine you and blow you up.
- HELENA. Bless our poor virginity from underminers and blowers-up!
- Is there no military policy how virgins might blow up men?
- PAROLLES. Virginity being blown down, man will quicklier be blown
- up; marry, in blowing him down again, with the breach yourselves
- made, you lose your city. It is not politic in the commonwealth
- of nature to preserve virginity. Loss of virginity is rational
- increase; and there was never virgin got till virginity was first
- lost. That you were made of is metal to make virgins. Virginity
- by being once lost may be ten times found; by being ever kept, it
- is ever lost. 'Tis too cold a companion; away with't.
- HELENA. I will stand for 't a little, though therefore I die a
- virgin.
- PAROLLES. There's little can be said in 't; 'tis against the rule
- of nature. To speak on the part of virginity is to accuse your
- mothers; which is most infallible disobedience. He that hangs
- himself is a virgin; virginity murders itself, and should be
- buried in highways, out of all sanctified limit, as a desperate
- offendress against nature. Virginity breeds mites, much like a
- cheese; consumes itself to the very paring, and so dies with
- feeding his own stomach. Besides, virginity is peevish, proud,
- idle, made of self-love, which is the most inhibited sin in the
- canon. Keep it not; you cannot choose but lose by't. Out with't.
- Within ten year it will make itself ten, which is a goodly
- increase; and the principal itself not much the worse. Away
- with't.
- HELENA. How might one do, sir, to lose it to her own liking?
- PAROLLES. Let me see. Marry, ill to like him that ne'er it likes.
- 'Tis a commodity will lose the gloss with lying; the longer kept,
- the less worth. Off with't while 'tis vendible; answer the time
- of request. Virginity, like an old courtier, wears her cap out of
- fashion, richly suited but unsuitable; just like the brooch and
- the toothpick, which wear not now. Your date is better in your
- pie and your porridge than in your cheek. And your virginity,
- your old virginity, is like one of our French wither'd pears: it
- looks ill, it eats drily; marry, 'tis a wither'd pear; it was
- formerly better; marry, yet 'tis a wither'd pear. Will you
- anything with it?
- HELENA. Not my virginity yet.
- There shall your master have a thousand loves,
- A mother, and a mistress, and a friend,
- A phoenix, captain, and an enemy,
- A guide, a goddess, and a sovereign,
- A counsellor, a traitress, and a dear;
- His humble ambition, proud humility,
- His jarring concord, and his discord dulcet,
- His faith, his sweet disaster; with a world
- Of pretty, fond, adoptious christendoms
- That blinking Cupid gossips. Now shall he-
- I know not what he shall. God send him well!
- The court's a learning-place, and he is one-
- PAROLLES. What one, i' faith?
- HELENA. That I wish well. 'Tis pity-
- PAROLLES. What's pity?
- HELENA. That wishing well had not a body in't
- Which might be felt; that we, the poorer born,
- Whose baser stars do shut us up in wishes,
- Might with effects of them follow our friends
- And show what we alone must think, which never
- Returns us thanks.
-
- Enter PAGE
-
- PAGE. Monsieur Parolles, my lord calls for you. Exit PAGE
- PAROLLES. Little Helen, farewell; if I can remember thee, I will
- think of thee at court.
- HELENA. Monsieur Parolles, you were born under a charitable star.
- PAROLLES. Under Mars, I.
- HELENA. I especially think, under Mars.
- PAROLLES. Why under Man?
- HELENA. The wars hath so kept you under that you must needs be born
- under Mars.
- PAROLLES. When he was predominant.
- HELENA. When he was retrograde, I think, rather.
- PAROLLES. Why think you so?
- HELENA. You go so much backward when you fight.
- PAROLLES. That's for advantage.
- HELENA. So is running away, when fear proposes the safety: but the
- composition that your valour and fear makes in you is a virtue of
- a good wing, and I like the wear well.
- PAROLLES. I am so full of business I cannot answer thee acutely. I
- will return perfect courtier; in the which my instruction shall
- serve to naturalize thee, so thou wilt be capable of a courtier's
- counsel, and understand what advice shall thrust upon thee; else
- thou diest in thine unthankfulness, and thine ignorance makes
- thee away. Farewell. When thou hast leisure, say thy prayers;
- when thou hast none, remember thy friends. Get thee a good
- husband and use him as he uses thee. So, farewell.
- Exit
- HELENA. Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie,
- Which we ascribe to heaven. The fated sky
- Gives us free scope; only doth backward pull
- Our slow designs when we ourselves are dull.
- What power is it which mounts my love so high,
- That makes me see, and cannot feed mine eye?
- The mightiest space in fortune nature brings
- To join like likes, and kiss like native things.
- Impossible be strange attempts to those
- That weigh their pains in sense, and do suppose
- What hath been cannot be. Who ever strove
- To show her merit that did miss her love?
- The King's disease-my project may deceive me,
- But my intents are fix'd, and will not leave me. Exit
-
-
-
-
-ACT I. SCENE 2.
-Paris. The KING'S palace
-
-Flourish of cornets. Enter the KING OF FRANCE, with letters,
-and divers ATTENDANTS
-
- KING. The Florentines and Senoys are by th' ears;
- Have fought with equal fortune, and continue
- A braving war.
- FIRST LORD. So 'tis reported, sir.
- KING. Nay, 'tis most credible. We here receive it,
- A certainty, vouch'd from our cousin Austria,
- With caution, that the Florentine will move us
- For speedy aid; wherein our dearest friend
- Prejudicates the business, and would seem
- To have us make denial.
- FIRST LORD. His love and wisdom,
- Approv'd so to your Majesty, may plead
- For amplest credence.
- KING. He hath arm'd our answer,
- And Florence is denied before he comes;
- Yet, for our gentlemen that mean to see
- The Tuscan service, freely have they leave
- To stand on either part.
- SECOND LORD. It well may serve
- A nursery to our gentry, who are sick
- For breathing and exploit.
- KING. What's he comes here?
-
- Enter BERTRAM, LAFEU, and PAROLLES
-
- FIRST LORD. It is the Count Rousillon, my good lord,
- Young Bertram.
- KING. Youth, thou bear'st thy father's face;
- Frank nature, rather curious than in haste,
- Hath well compos'd thee. Thy father's moral parts
- Mayst thou inherit too! Welcome to Paris.
- BERTRAM. My thanks and duty are your Majesty's.
- KING. I would I had that corporal soundness now,
- As when thy father and myself in friendship
- First tried our soldiership. He did look far
- Into the service of the time, and was
- Discipled of the bravest. He lasted long;
- But on us both did haggish age steal on,
- And wore us out of act. It much repairs me
- To talk of your good father. In his youth
- He had the wit which I can well observe
- To-day in our young lords; but they may jest
- Till their own scorn return to them unnoted
- Ere they can hide their levity in honour.
- So like a courtier, contempt nor bitterness
- Were in his pride or sharpness; if they were,
- His equal had awak'd them; and his honour,
- Clock to itself, knew the true minute when
- Exception bid him speak, and at this time
- His tongue obey'd his hand. Who were below him
- He us'd as creatures of another place;
- And bow'd his eminent top to their low ranks,
- Making them proud of his humility
- In their poor praise he humbled. Such a man
- Might be a copy to these younger times;
- Which, followed well, would demonstrate them now
- But goers backward.
- BERTRAM. His good remembrance, sir,
- Lies richer in your thoughts than on his tomb;
- So in approof lives not his epitaph
- As in your royal speech.
- KING. Would I were with him! He would always say-
- Methinks I hear him now; his plausive words
- He scatter'd not in ears, but grafted them
- To grow there, and to bear- 'Let me not live'-
- This his good melancholy oft began,
- On the catastrophe and heel of pastime,
- When it was out-'Let me not live' quoth he
- 'After my flame lacks oil, to be the snuff
- Of younger spirits, whose apprehensive senses
- All but new things disdain; whose judgments are
- Mere fathers of their garments; whose constancies
- Expire before their fashions.' This he wish'd.
- I, after him, do after him wish too,
- Since I nor wax nor honey can bring home,
- I quickly were dissolved from my hive,
- To give some labourers room.
- SECOND LORD. You're loved, sir;
- They that least lend it you shall lack you first.
- KING. I fill a place, I know't. How long is't, Count,
- Since the physician at your father's died?
- He was much fam'd.
- BERTRAM. Some six months since, my lord.
- KING. If he were living, I would try him yet-
- Lend me an arm-the rest have worn me out
- With several applications. Nature and sickness
- Debate it at their leisure. Welcome, Count;
- My son's no dearer.
- BERTRAM. Thank your Majesty. Exeunt [Flourish]
-
-
-
-
-ACT I. SCENE 3.
-Rousillon. The COUNT'S palace
-
-Enter COUNTESS, STEWARD, and CLOWN
-
- COUNTESS. I will now hear; what say you of this gentlewoman?
- STEWARD. Madam, the care I have had to even your content I wish
- might be found in the calendar of my past endeavours; for then we
- wound our modesty, and make foul the clearness of our deservings,
- when of ourselves we publish them.
- COUNTESS. What does this knave here? Get you gone, sirrah. The
- complaints I have heard of you I do not all believe; 'tis my
- slowness that I do not, for I know you lack not folly to commit
- them and have ability enough to make such knaveries yours.
- CLOWN. 'Tis not unknown to you, madam, I am a poor fellow.
- COUNTESS. Well, sir.
- CLOWN. No, madam, 'tis not so well that I am poor, though many of
- the rich are damn'd; but if I may have your ladyship's good will
- to go to the world, Isbel the woman and I will do as we may.
- COUNTESS. Wilt thou needs be a beggar?
- CLOWN. I do beg your good will in this case.
- COUNTESS. In what case?
- CLOWN. In Isbel's case and mine own. Service is no heritage; and I
- think I shall never have the blessing of God till I have issue o'
- my body; for they say bames are blessings.
- COUNTESS. Tell me thy reason why thou wilt marry.
- CLOWN. My poor body, madam, requires it. I am driven on by the
- flesh; and he must needs go that the devil drives.
- COUNTESS. Is this all your worship's reason?
- CLOWN. Faith, madam, I have other holy reasons, such as they are.
- COUNTESS. May the world know them?
- CLOWN. I have been, madam, a wicked creature, as you and all flesh
- and blood are; and, indeed, I do marry that I may repent.
- COUNTESS. Thy marriage, sooner than thy wickedness.
- CLOWN. I am out o' friends, madam, and I hope to have friends for
- my wife's sake.
- COUNTESS. Such friends are thine enemies, knave.
- CLOWN. Y'are shallow, madam-in great friends; for the knaves come
- to do that for me which I am aweary of. He that ears my land
- spares my team, and gives me leave to in the crop. If I be his
- cuckold, he's my drudge. He that comforts my wife is the
- cherisher of my flesh and blood; he that cherishes my flesh and
- blood loves my flesh and blood; he that loves my flesh and blood
- is my friend; ergo, he that kisses my wife is my friend. If men
- could be contented to be what they are, there were no fear in
- marriage; for young Charbon the puritan and old Poysam the
- papist, howsome'er their hearts are sever'd in religion, their
- heads are both one; they may jowl horns together like any deer
- i' th' herd.
- COUNTESS. Wilt thou ever be a foul-mouth'd and calumnious knave?
- CLOWN. A prophet I, madam; and I speak the truth the next way:
-
- For I the ballad will repeat,
- Which men full true shall find:
- Your marriage comes by destiny,
- Your cuckoo sings by kind.
-
- COUNTESS. Get you gone, sir; I'll talk with you more anon.
- STEWARD. May it please you, madam, that he bid Helen come to you.
- Of her I am to speak.
- COUNTESS. Sirrah, tell my gentlewoman I would speak with her; Helen
- I mean.
- CLOWN. [Sings]
-
- 'Was this fair face the cause' quoth she
- 'Why the Grecians sacked Troy?
- Fond done, done fond,
- Was this King Priam's joy?'
- With that she sighed as she stood,
- With that she sighed as she stood,
- And gave this sentence then:
- 'Among nine bad if one be good,
- Among nine bad if one be good,
- There's yet one good in ten.'
-
- COUNTESS. What, one good in ten? You corrupt the song, sirrah.
- CLOWN. One good woman in ten, madam, which is a purifying o' th'
- song. Would God would serve the world so all the year! We'd find
- no fault with the tithe-woman, if I were the parson. One in ten,
- quoth 'a! An we might have a good woman born before every blazing
- star, or at an earthquake, 'twould mend the lottery well: a man
- may draw his heart out ere 'a pluck one.
- COUNTESS. You'll be gone, sir knave, and do as I command you.
- CLOWN. That man should be at woman's command, and yet no hurt done!
- Though honesty be no puritan, yet it will do no hurt; it will
- wear the surplice of humility over the black gown of a big heart.
- I am going, forsooth. The business is for Helen to come hither.
- Exit
- COUNTESS. Well, now.
- STEWARD. I know, madam, you love your gentlewoman entirely.
- COUNTESS. Faith I do. Her father bequeath'd her to me; and she
- herself, without other advantage, may lawfully make title to as
- much love as she finds. There is more owing her than is paid; and
- more shall be paid her than she'll demand.
- STEWARD. Madam, I was very late more near her than I think she
- wish'd me. Alone she was, and did communicate to herself her own
- words to her own ears; she thought, I dare vow for her, they
- touch'd not any stranger sense. Her matter was, she loved your
- son. Fortune, she said, was no goddess, that had put such
- difference betwixt their two estates; Love no god, that would not
- extend his might only where qualities were level; Diana no queen
- of virgins, that would suffer her poor knight surpris'd without
- rescue in the first assault, or ransom afterward. This she
- deliver'd in the most bitter touch of sorrow that e'er I heard
- virgin exclaim in; which I held my duty speedily to acquaint you
- withal; sithence, in the loss that may happen, it concerns you
- something to know it.
- COUNTESS. YOU have discharg'd this honestly; keep it to yourself.
- Many likelihoods inform'd me of this before, which hung so
- tott'ring in the balance that I could neither believe nor
- misdoubt. Pray you leave me. Stall this in your bosom; and I
- thank you for your honest care. I will speak with you further
- anon. Exit STEWARD
-
- Enter HELENA
-
- Even so it was with me when I was young.
- If ever we are nature's, these are ours; this thorn
- Doth to our rose of youth rightly belong;
- Our blood to us, this to our blood is born.
- It is the show and seal of nature's truth,
- Where love's strong passion is impress'd in youth.
- By our remembrances of days foregone,
- Such were our faults, or then we thought them none.
- Her eye is sick on't; I observe her now.
- HELENA. What is your pleasure, madam?
- COUNTESS. You know, Helen,
- I am a mother to you.
- HELENA. Mine honourable mistress.
- COUNTESS. Nay, a mother.
- Why not a mother? When I said 'a mother,'
- Methought you saw a serpent. What's in 'mother'
- That you start at it? I say I am your mother,
- And put you in the catalogue of those
- That were enwombed mine. 'Tis often seen
- Adoption strives with nature, and choice breeds
- A native slip to us from foreign seeds.
- You ne'er oppress'd me with a mother's groan,
- Yet I express to you a mother's care.
- God's mercy, maiden! does it curd thy blood
- To say I am thy mother? What's the matter,
- That this distempered messenger of wet,
- The many-colour'd Iris, rounds thine eye?
- Why, that you are my daughter?
- HELENA. That I am not.
- COUNTESS. I say I am your mother.
- HELENA. Pardon, madam.
- The Count Rousillon cannot be my brother:
- I am from humble, he from honoured name;
- No note upon my parents, his all noble.
- My master, my dear lord he is; and I
- His servant live, and will his vassal die.
- He must not be my brother.
- COUNTESS. Nor I your mother?
- HELENA. You are my mother, madam; would you were-
- So that my lord your son were not my brother-
- Indeed my mother! Or were you both our mothers,
- I care no more for than I do for heaven,
- So I were not his sister. Can't no other,
- But, I your daughter, he must be my brother?
- COUNTESS. Yes, Helen, you might be my daughter-in-law.
- God shield you mean it not! 'daughter' and 'mother'
- So strive upon your pulse. What! pale again?
- My fear hath catch'd your fondness. Now I see
- The myst'ry of your loneliness, and find
- Your salt tears' head. Now to all sense 'tis gross
- You love my son; invention is asham'd,
- Against the proclamation of thy passion,
- To say thou dost not. Therefore tell me true;
- But tell me then, 'tis so; for, look, thy cheeks
- Confess it, th' one to th' other; and thine eyes
- See it so grossly shown in thy behaviours
- That in their kind they speak it; only sin
- And hellish obstinacy tie thy tongue,
- That truth should be suspected. Speak, is't so?
- If it be so, you have wound a goodly clew;
- If it be not, forswear't; howe'er, I charge thee,
- As heaven shall work in me for thine avail,
- To tell me truly.
- HELENA. Good madam, pardon me.
- COUNTESS. Do you love my son?
- HELENA. Your pardon, noble mistress.
- COUNTESS. Love you my son?
- HELENA. Do not you love him, madam?
- COUNTESS. Go not about; my love hath in't a bond
- Whereof the world takes note. Come, come, disclose
- The state of your affection; for your passions
- Have to the full appeach'd.
- HELENA. Then I confess,
- Here on my knee, before high heaven and you,
- That before you, and next unto high heaven,
- I love your son.
- My friends were poor, but honest; so's my love.
- Be not offended, for it hurts not him
- That he is lov'd of me; I follow him not
- By any token of presumptuous suit,
- Nor would I have him till I do deserve him;
- Yet never know how that desert should be.
- I know I love in vain, strive against hope;
- Yet in this captious and intenible sieve
- I still pour in the waters of my love,
- And lack not to lose still. Thus, Indian-like,
- Religious in mine error, I adore
- The sun that looks upon his worshipper
- But knows of him no more. My dearest madam,
- Let not your hate encounter with my love,
- For loving where you do; but if yourself,
- Whose aged honour cites a virtuous youth,
- Did ever in so true a flame of liking
- Wish chastely and love dearly that your Dian
- Was both herself and Love; O, then, give pity
- To her whose state is such that cannot choose
- But lend and give where she is sure to lose;
- That seeks not to find that her search implies,
- But, riddle-like, lives sweetly where she dies!
- COUNTESS. Had you not lately an intent-speak truly-
- To go to Paris?
- HELENA. Madam, I had.
- COUNTESS. Wherefore? Tell true.
- HELENA. I will tell truth; by grace itself I swear.
- You know my father left me some prescriptions
- Of rare and prov'd effects, such as his reading
- And manifest experience had collected
- For general sovereignty; and that he will'd me
- In heedfull'st reservation to bestow them,
- As notes whose faculties inclusive were
- More than they were in note. Amongst the rest
- There is a remedy, approv'd, set down,
- To cure the desperate languishings whereof
- The King is render'd lost.
- COUNTESS. This was your motive
- For Paris, was it? Speak.
- HELENA. My lord your son made me to think of this,
- Else Paris, and the medicine, and the King,
- Had from the conversation of my thoughts
- Haply been absent then.
- COUNTESS. But think you, Helen,
- If you should tender your supposed aid,
- He would receive it? He and his physicians
- Are of a mind: he, that they cannot help him;
- They, that they cannot help. How shall they credit
- A poor unlearned virgin, when the schools,
- Embowell'd of their doctrine, have let off
- The danger to itself?
- HELENA. There's something in't
- More than my father's skill, which was the great'st
- Of his profession, that his good receipt
- Shall for my legacy be sanctified
- By th' luckiest stars in heaven; and, would your honour
- But give me leave to try success, I'd venture
- The well-lost life of mine on his Grace's cure.
- By such a day and hour.
- COUNTESS. Dost thou believe't?
- HELENA. Ay, madam, knowingly.
- COUNTESS. Why, Helen, thou shalt have my leave and love,
- Means and attendants, and my loving greetings
- To those of mine in court. I'll stay at home,
- And pray God's blessing into thy attempt.
- Be gone to-morrow; and be sure of this,
- What I can help thee to thou shalt not miss. Exeunt
-
-
-
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-
-ACT II. SCENE 1.
-Paris. The KING'S palace
-
-Flourish of cornets. Enter the KING with divers young LORDS taking leave
-for the Florentine war; BERTRAM and PAROLLES; ATTENDANTS
-
- KING. Farewell, young lords; these war-like principles
- Do not throw from you. And you, my lords, farewell;
- Share the advice betwixt you; if both gain all,
- The gift doth stretch itself as 'tis receiv'd,
- And is enough for both.
- FIRST LORD. 'Tis our hope, sir,
- After well-ent'red soldiers, to return
- And find your Grace in health.
- KING. No, no, it cannot be; and yet my heart
- Will not confess he owes the malady
- That doth my life besiege. Farewell, young lords;
- Whether I live or die, be you the sons
- Of worthy Frenchmen; let higher Italy-
- Those bated that inherit but the fall
- Of the last monarchy-see that you come
- Not to woo honour, but to wed it; when
- The bravest questant shrinks, find what you seek,
- That fame may cry you aloud. I say farewell.
- SECOND LORD. Health, at your bidding, serve your Majesty!
- KING. Those girls of Italy, take heed of them;
- They say our French lack language to deny,
- If they demand; beware of being captives
- Before you serve.
- BOTH. Our hearts receive your warnings.
- KING. Farewell. [To ATTENDANTS] Come hither to me.
- The KING retires attended
- FIRST LORD. O my sweet lord, that you will stay behind us!
- PAROLLES. 'Tis not his fault, the spark.
- SECOND LORD. O, 'tis brave wars!
- PAROLLES. Most admirable! I have seen those wars.
- BERTRAM. I am commanded here and kept a coil with
- 'Too young' and next year' and "Tis too early.'
- PAROLLES. An thy mind stand to 't, boy, steal away bravely.
- BERTRAM. I shall stay here the forehorse to a smock,
- Creaking my shoes on the plain masonry,
- Till honour be bought up, and no sword worn
- But one to dance with. By heaven, I'll steal away.
- FIRST LORD. There's honour in the theft.
- PAROLLES. Commit it, Count.
- SECOND LORD. I am your accessary; and so farewell.
- BERTRAM. I grow to you, and our parting is a tortur'd body.
- FIRST LORD. Farewell, Captain.
- SECOND LORD. Sweet Monsieur Parolles!
- PAROLLES. Noble heroes, my sword and yours are kin. Good sparks and
- lustrous, a word, good metals: you shall find in the regiment of
- the Spinii one Captain Spurio, with his cicatrice, an emblem of
- war, here on his sinister cheek; it was this very sword
- entrench'd it. Say to him I live; and observe his reports for me.
- FIRST LORD. We shall, noble Captain.
- PAROLLES. Mars dote on you for his novices! Exeunt LORDS
- What will ye do?
-
- Re-enter the KING
-
- BERTRAM. Stay; the King!
- PAROLLES. Use a more spacious ceremony to the noble lords; you have
- restrain'd yourself within the list of too cold an adieu. Be more
- expressive to them; for they wear themselves in the cap of the
- time; there do muster true gait; eat, speak, and move, under the
- influence of the most receiv'd star; and though the devil lead
- the measure, such are to be followed. After them, and take a more
- dilated farewell.
- BERTRAM. And I will do so.
- PAROLLES. Worthy fellows; and like to prove most sinewy sword-men.
- Exeunt BERTRAM and PAROLLES
-
- Enter LAFEU
-
- LAFEU. [Kneeling] Pardon, my lord, for me and for my tidings.
- KING. I'll fee thee to stand up.
- LAFEU. Then here's a man stands that has brought his pardon.
- I would you had kneel'd, my lord, to ask me mercy;
- And that at my bidding you could so stand up.
- KING. I would I had; so I had broke thy pate,
- And ask'd thee mercy for't.
- LAFEU. Good faith, across!
- But, my good lord, 'tis thus: will you be cur'd
- Of your infirmity?
- KING. No.
- LAFEU. O, will you eat
- No grapes, my royal fox? Yes, but you will
- My noble grapes, an if my royal fox
- Could reach them: I have seen a medicine
- That's able to breathe life into a stone,
- Quicken a rock, and make you dance canary
- With spritely fire and motion; whose simple touch
- Is powerful to araise King Pepin, nay,
- To give great Charlemain a pen in's hand
- And write to her a love-line.
- KING. What her is this?
- LAFEU. Why, Doctor She! My lord, there's one arriv'd,
- If you will see her. Now, by my faith and honour,
- If seriously I may convey my thoughts
- In this my light deliverance, I have spoke
- With one that in her sex, her years, profession,
- Wisdom, and constancy, hath amaz'd me more
- Than I dare blame my weakness. Will you see her,
- For that is her demand, and know her business?
- That done, laugh well at me.
- KING. Now, good Lafeu,
- Bring in the admiration, that we with the
- May spend our wonder too, or take off thine
- By wond'ring how thou took'st it.
- LAFEU. Nay, I'll fit you,
- And not be all day neither. Exit LAFEU
- KING. Thus he his special nothing ever prologues.
-
- Re-enter LAFEU with HELENA
-
- LAFEU. Nay, come your ways.
- KING. This haste hath wings indeed.
- LAFEU. Nay, come your ways;
- This is his Majesty; say your mind to him.
- A traitor you do look like; but such traitors
- His Majesty seldom fears. I am Cressid's uncle,
- That dare leave two together. Fare you well. Exit
- KING. Now, fair one, does your business follow us?
- HELENA. Ay, my good lord.
- Gerard de Narbon was my father,
- In what he did profess, well found.
- KING. I knew him.
- HELENA. The rather will I spare my praises towards him;
- Knowing him is enough. On's bed of death
- Many receipts he gave me; chiefly one,
- Which, as the dearest issue of his practice,
- And of his old experience th' only darling,
- He bade me store up as a triple eye,
- Safer than mine own two, more dear. I have so:
- And, hearing your high Majesty is touch'd
- With that malignant cause wherein the honour
- Of my dear father's gift stands chief in power,
- I come to tender it, and my appliance,
- With all bound humbleness.
- KING. We thank you, maiden;
- But may not be so credulous of cure,
- When our most learned doctors leave us, and
- The congregated college have concluded
- That labouring art can never ransom nature
- From her inaidable estate-I say we must not
- So stain our judgment, or corrupt our hope,
- To prostitute our past-cure malady
- To empirics; or to dissever so
- Our great self and our credit to esteem
- A senseless help, when help past sense we deem.
- HELENA. My duty then shall pay me for my pains.
- I will no more enforce mine office on you;
- Humbly entreating from your royal thoughts
- A modest one to bear me back again.
- KING. I cannot give thee less, to be call'd grateful.
- Thou thought'st to help me; and such thanks I give
- As one near death to those that wish him live.
- But what at full I know, thou know'st no part;
- I knowing all my peril, thou no art.
- HELENA. What I can do can do no hurt to try,
- Since you set up your rest 'gainst remedy.
- He that of greatest works is finisher
- Oft does them by the weakest minister.
- So holy writ in babes hath judgment shown,
- When judges have been babes. Great floods have flown
- From simple sources, and great seas have dried
- When miracles have by the greatest been denied.
- Oft expectation fails, and most oft there
- Where most it promises; and oft it hits
- Where hope is coldest, and despair most fits.
- KING. I must not hear thee. Fare thee well, kind maid;
- Thy pains, not us'd, must by thyself be paid;
- Proffers not took reap thanks for their reward.
- HELENA. Inspired merit so by breath is barr'd.
- It is not so with Him that all things knows,
- As 'tis with us that square our guess by shows;
- But most it is presumption in us when
- The help of heaven we count the act of men.
- Dear sir, to my endeavours give consent;
- Of heaven, not me, make an experiment.
- I am not an impostor, that proclaim
- Myself against the level of mine aim;
- But know I think, and think I know most sure,
- My art is not past power nor you past cure.
- KING. Art thou so confident? Within what space
- Hop'st thou my cure?
- HELENA. The greatest Grace lending grace.
- Ere twice the horses of the sun shall bring
- Their fiery torcher his diurnal ring,
- Ere twice in murk and occidental damp
- Moist Hesperus hath quench'd his sleepy lamp,
- Or four and twenty times the pilot's glass
- Hath told the thievish minutes how they pass,
- What is infirm from your sound parts shall fly,
- Health shall live free, and sickness freely die.
- KING. Upon thy certainty and confidence
- What dar'st thou venture?
- HELENA. Tax of impudence,
- A strumpet's boldness, a divulged shame,
- Traduc'd by odious ballads; my maiden's name
- Sear'd otherwise; ne worse of worst-extended
- With vilest torture let my life be ended.
- KING. Methinks in thee some blessed spirit doth speak
- His powerful sound within an organ weak;
- And what impossibility would slay
- In common sense, sense saves another way.
- Thy life is dear; for all that life can rate
- Worth name of life in thee hath estimate:
- Youth, beauty, wisdom, courage, all
- That happiness and prime can happy call.
- Thou this to hazard needs must intimate
- Skill infinite or monstrous desperate.
- Sweet practiser, thy physic I will try,
- That ministers thine own death if I die.
- HELENA. If I break time, or flinch in property
- Of what I spoke, unpitied let me die;
- And well deserv'd. Not helping, death's my fee;
- But, if I help, what do you promise me?
- KING. Make thy demand.
- HELENA. But will you make it even?
- KING. Ay, by my sceptre and my hopes of heaven.
- HELENA. Then shalt thou give me with thy kingly hand
- What husband in thy power I will command.
- Exempted be from me the arrogance
- To choose from forth the royal blood of France,
- My low and humble name to propagate
- With any branch or image of thy state;
- But such a one, thy vassal, whom I know
- Is free for me to ask, thee to bestow.
- KING. Here is my hand; the premises observ'd,
- Thy will by my performance shall be serv'd.
- So make the choice of thy own time, for I,
- Thy resolv'd patient, on thee still rely.
- More should I question thee, and more I must,
- Though more to know could not be more to trust,
- From whence thou cam'st, how tended on. But rest
- Unquestion'd welcome and undoubted blest.
- Give me some help here, ho! If thou proceed
- As high as word, my deed shall match thy deed.
- [Flourish. Exeunt]
-
-
-
-
-ACT II. SCENE 2.
-Rousillon. The COUNT'S palace
-
-Enter COUNTESS and CLOWN
-
- COUNTESS. Come on, sir; I shall now put you to the height of your
- breeding.
- CLOWN. I will show myself highly fed and lowly taught. I know my
- business is but to the court.
- COUNTESS. To the court! Why, what place make you special, when you
- put off that with such contempt? But to the court!
- CLOWN. Truly, madam, if God have lent a man any manners, he may
- easily put it off at court. He that cannot make a leg, put off's
- cap, kiss his hand, and say nothing, has neither leg, hands, lip,
- nor cap; and indeed such a fellow, to say precisely, were not for
- the court; but for me, I have an answer will serve all men.
- COUNTESS. Marry, that's a bountiful answer that fits all questions.
- CLOWN. It is like a barber's chair, that fits all buttocks-the pin
- buttock, the quatch buttock, the brawn buttock, or any buttock.
- COUNTESS. Will your answer serve fit to all questions?
- CLOWN. As fit as ten groats is for the hand of an attorney, as your
- French crown for your taffety punk, as Tib's rush for Tom's
- forefinger, as a pancake for Shrove Tuesday, a morris for Mayday,
- as the nail to his hole, the cuckold to his horn, as a scolding
- quean to a wrangling knave, as the nun's lip to the friar's
- mouth; nay, as the pudding to his skin.
- COUNTESS. Have you, I, say, an answer of such fitness for all
- questions?
- CLOWN. From below your duke to beneath your constable, it will fit
- any question.
- COUNTESS. It must be an answer of most monstrous size that must fit
- all demands.
- CLOWN. But a trifle neither, in good faith, if the learned should
- speak truth of it. Here it is, and all that belongs to't. Ask me
- if I am a courtier: it shall do you no harm to learn.
- COUNTESS. To be young again, if we could, I will be a fool in
- question, hoping to be the wiser by your answer. I pray you, sir,
- are you a courtier?
- CLOWN. O Lord, sir!-There's a simple putting off. More, more, a
- hundred of them.
- COUNTESS. Sir, I am a poor friend of yours, that loves you.
- CLOWN. O Lord, sir!-Thick, thick; spare not me.
- COUNTESS. I think, sir, you can eat none of this homely meat.
- CLOWN. O Lord, sir!-Nay, put me to't, I warrant you.
- COUNTESS. You were lately whipp'd, sir, as I think.
- CLOWN. O Lord, sir!-Spare not me.
- COUNTESS. Do you cry 'O Lord, sir!' at your whipping, and 'spare
- not me'? Indeed your 'O Lord, sir!' is very sequent to your
- whipping. You would answer very well to a whipping, if you were
- but bound to't.
- CLOWN. I ne'er had worse luck in my life in my 'O Lord, sir!' I see
- thing's may serve long, but not serve ever.
- COUNTESS. I play the noble housewife with the time,
- To entertain it so merrily with a fool.
- CLOWN. O Lord, sir!-Why, there't serves well again.
- COUNTESS. An end, sir! To your business: give Helen this,
- And urge her to a present answer back;
- Commend me to my kinsmen and my son. This is not much.
- CLOWN. Not much commendation to them?
- COUNTESS. Not much employment for you. You understand me?
- CLOWN. Most fruitfully; I am there before my legs.
- COUNTESS. Haste you again. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-ACT II. SCENE 3.
-Paris. The KING'S palace
-
-Enter BERTRAM, LAFEU, and PAROLLES
-
- LAFEU. They say miracles are past; and we have our philosophical
- persons to make modern and familiar things supernatural and
- causeless. Hence is it that we make trifles of terrors,
- ensconcing ourselves into seeming knowledge when we should submit
- ourselves to an unknown fear.
- PAROLLES. Why, 'tis the rarest argument of wonder that hath shot
- out in our latter times.
- BERTRAM. And so 'tis.
- LAFEU. To be relinquish'd of the artists-
- PAROLLES. So I say-both of Galen and Paracelsus.
- LAFEU. Of all the learned and authentic fellows-
- PAROLLES. Right; so I say.
- LAFEU. That gave him out incurable-
- PAROLLES. Why, there 'tis; so say I too.
- LAFEU. Not to be help'd-
- PAROLLES. Right; as 'twere a man assur'd of a-
- LAFEU. Uncertain life and sure death.
- PAROLLES. Just; you say well; so would I have said.
- LAFEU. I may truly say it is a novelty to the world.
- PAROLLES. It is indeed. If you will have it in showing, you shall
- read it in what-do-ye-call't here.
- LAFEU. [Reading the ballad title] 'A Showing of a Heavenly
- Effect in an Earthly Actor.'
- PAROLLES. That's it; I would have said the very same.
- LAFEU. Why, your dolphin is not lustier. 'Fore me, I speak in
- respect-
- PAROLLES. Nay, 'tis strange, 'tis very strange; that is the brief
- and the tedious of it; and he's of a most facinerious spirit that
- will not acknowledge it to be the-
- LAFEU. Very hand of heaven.
- PAROLLES. Ay; so I say.
- LAFEU. In a most weak-
- PAROLLES. And debile minister, great power, great transcendence;
- which should, indeed, give us a further use to be made than alone
- the recov'ry of the King, as to be-
- LAFEU. Generally thankful.
-
- Enter KING, HELENA, and ATTENDANTS
-
- PAROLLES. I would have said it; you say well. Here comes the King.
- LAFEU. Lustig, as the Dutchman says. I'll like a maid the better,
- whilst I have a tooth in my head. Why, he's able to lead her a
- coranto.
- PAROLLES. Mort du vinaigre! Is not this Helen?
- LAFEU. 'Fore God, I think so.
- KING. Go, call before me all the lords in court.
- Exit an ATTENDANT
- Sit, my preserver, by thy patient's side;
- And with this healthful hand, whose banish'd sense
- Thou has repeal'd, a second time receive
- The confirmation of my promis'd gift,
- Which but attends thy naming.
-
- Enter three or four LORDS
-
- Fair maid, send forth thine eye. This youthful parcel
- Of noble bachelors stand at my bestowing,
- O'er whom both sovereign power and father's voice
- I have to use. Thy frank election make;
- Thou hast power to choose, and they none to forsake.
- HELENA. To each of you one fair and virtuous mistress
- Fall, when love please. Marry, to each but one!
- LAFEU. I'd give bay Curtal and his furniture
- My mouth no more were broken than these boys',
- And writ as little beard.
- KING. Peruse them well.
- Not one of those but had a noble father.
- HELENA. Gentlemen,
- Heaven hath through me restor'd the King to health.
- ALL. We understand it, and thank heaven for you.
- HELENA. I am a simple maid, and therein wealthiest
- That I protest I simply am a maid.
- Please it your Majesty, I have done already.
- The blushes in my cheeks thus whisper me:
- 'We blush that thou shouldst choose; but, be refused,
- Let the white death sit on thy cheek for ever,
- We'll ne'er come there again.'
- KING. Make choice and see:
- Who shuns thy love shuns all his love in me.
- HELENA. Now, Dian, from thy altar do I fly,
- And to imperial Love, that god most high,
- Do my sighs stream. Sir, will you hear my suit?
- FIRST LORD. And grant it.
- HELENA. Thanks, sir; all the rest is mute.
- LAFEU. I had rather be in this choice than throw ames-ace for my
- life.
- HELENA. The honour, sir, that flames in your fair eyes,
- Before I speak, too threat'ningly replies.
- Love make your fortunes twenty times above
- Her that so wishes, and her humble love!
- SECOND LORD. No better, if you please.
- HELENA. My wish receive,
- Which great Love grant; and so I take my leave.
- LAFEU. Do all they deny her? An they were sons of mine I'd have
- them whipt; or I would send them to th' Turk to make eunuchs of.
- HELENA. Be not afraid that I your hand should take;
- I'll never do you wrong for your own sake.
- Blessing upon your vows; and in your bed
- Find fairer fortune, if you ever wed!
- LAFEU. These boys are boys of ice; they'll none have her.
- Sure, they are bastards to the English; the French ne'er got 'em.
- HELENA. You are too young, too happy, and too good,
- To make yourself a son out of my blood.
- FOURTH LORD. Fair one, I think not so.
- LAFEU. There's one grape yet; I am sure thy father drunk wine-but
- if thou be'st not an ass, I am a youth of fourteen; I have known
- thee already.
- HELENA. [To BERTRAM] I dare not say I take you; but I give
- Me and my service, ever whilst I live,
- Into your guiding power. This is the man.
- KING. Why, then, young Bertram, take her; she's thy wife.
- BERTRAM. My wife, my liege! I shall beseech your Highness,
- In such a business give me leave to use
- The help of mine own eyes.
- KING. Know'st thou not, Bertram,
- What she has done for me?
- BERTRAM. Yes, my good lord;
- But never hope to know why I should marry her.
- KING. Thou know'st she has rais'd me from my sickly bed.
- BERTRAM. But follows it, my lord, to bring me down
- Must answer for your raising? I know her well:
- She had her breeding at my father's charge.
- A poor physician's daughter my wife! Disdain
- Rather corrupt me ever!
- KING. 'Tis only title thou disdain'st in her, the which
- I can build up. Strange is it that our bloods,
- Of colour, weight, and heat, pour'd all together,
- Would quite confound distinction, yet stand off
- In differences so mighty. If she be
- All that is virtuous-save what thou dislik'st,
- A poor physician's daughter-thou dislik'st
- Of virtue for the name; but do not so.
- From lowest place when virtuous things proceed,
- The place is dignified by the doer's deed;
- Where great additions swell's, and virtue none,
- It is a dropsied honour. Good alone
- Is good without a name. Vileness is so:
- The property by what it is should go,
- Not by the title. She is young, wise, fair;
- In these to nature she's immediate heir;
- And these breed honour. That is honour's scorn
- Which challenges itself as honour's born
- And is not like the sire. Honours thrive
- When rather from our acts we them derive
- Than our fore-goers. The mere word's a slave,
- Debauch'd on every tomb, on every grave
- A lying trophy; and as oft is dumb
- Where dust and damn'd oblivion is the tomb
- Of honour'd bones indeed. What should be said?
- If thou canst like this creature as a maid,
- I can create the rest. Virtue and she
- Is her own dower; honour and wealth from me.
- BERTRAM. I cannot love her, nor will strive to do 't.
- KING. Thou wrong'st thyself, if thou shouldst strive to choose.
- HELENA. That you are well restor'd, my lord, I'm glad.
- Let the rest go.
- KING. My honour's at the stake; which to defeat,
- I must produce my power. Here, take her hand,
- Proud scornful boy, unworthy this good gift,
- That dost in vile misprision shackle up
- My love and her desert; that canst not dream
- We, poising us in her defective scale,
- Shall weigh thee to the beam; that wilt not know
- It is in us to plant thine honour where
- We please to have it grow. Check thy contempt;
- Obey our will, which travails in thy good;
- Believe not thy disdain, but presently
- Do thine own fortunes that obedient right
- Which both thy duty owes and our power claims;
- Or I will throw thee from my care for ever
- Into the staggers and the careless lapse
- Of youth and ignorance; both my revenge and hate
- Loosing upon thee in the name of justice,
- Without all terms of pity. Speak; thine answer.
- BERTRAM. Pardon, my gracious lord; for I submit
- My fancy to your eyes. When I consider
- What great creation and what dole of honour
- Flies where you bid it, I find that she which late
- Was in my nobler thoughts most base is now
- The praised of the King; who, so ennobled,
- Is as 'twere born so.
- KING. Take her by the hand,
- And tell her she is thine; to whom I promise
- A counterpoise, if not to thy estate
- A balance more replete.
- BERTRAM. I take her hand.
- KING. Good fortune and the favour of the King
- Smile upon this contract; whose ceremony
- Shall seem expedient on the now-born brief,
- And be perform'd to-night. The solemn feast
- Shall more attend upon the coming space,
- Expecting absent friends. As thou lov'st her,
- Thy love's to me religious; else, does err.
- Exeunt all but LAFEU and PAROLLES who stay behind,
- commenting of this wedding
- LAFEU. Do you hear, monsieur? A word with you.
- PAROLLES. Your pleasure, sir?
- LAFEU. Your lord and master did well to make his recantation.
- PAROLLES. Recantation! My Lord! my master!
- LAFEU. Ay; is it not a language I speak?
- PAROLLES. A most harsh one, and not to be understood without bloody
- succeeding. My master!
- LAFEU. Are you companion to the Count Rousillon?
- PAROLLES. To any count; to all counts; to what is man.
- LAFEU. To what is count's man: count's master is of another style.
- PAROLLES. You are too old, sir; let it satisfy you, you are too
- old.
- LAFEU. I must tell thee, sirrah, I write man; to which title age
- cannot bring thee.
- PAROLLES. What I dare too well do, I dare not do.
- LAFEU. I did think thee, for two ordinaries, to be a pretty wise
- fellow; thou didst make tolerable vent of thy travel; it might
- pass. Yet the scarfs and the bannerets about thee did manifoldly
- dissuade me from believing thee a vessel of too great a burden. I
- have now found thee; when I lose thee again I care not; yet art
- thou good for nothing but taking up; and that thou'rt scarce
- worth.
- PAROLLES. Hadst thou not the privilege of antiquity upon thee-
- LAFEU. Do not plunge thyself too far in anger, lest thou hasten thy
- trial; which if-Lord have mercy on thee for a hen! So, my good
- window of lattice, fare thee well; thy casement I need not open,
- for I look through thee. Give me thy hand.
- PAROLLES. My lord, you give me most egregious indignity.
- LAFEU. Ay, with all my heart; and thou art worthy of it.
- PAROLLES. I have not, my lord, deserv'd it.
- LAFEU. Yes, good faith, ev'ry dram of it; and I will not bate thee
- a scruple.
- PAROLLES. Well, I shall be wiser.
- LAFEU. Ev'n as soon as thou canst, for thou hast to pull at a smack
- o' th' contrary. If ever thou be'st bound in thy scarf and
- beaten, thou shalt find what it is to be proud of thy bondage. I
- have a desire to hold my acquaintance with thee, or rather my
- knowledge, that I may say in the default 'He is a man I know.'
- PAROLLES. My lord, you do me most insupportable vexation.
- LAFEU. I would it were hell pains for thy sake, and my poor doing
- eternal; for doing I am past, as I will by thee, in what motion
- age will give me leave. Exit
- PAROLLES. Well, thou hast a son shall take this disgrace off me:
- scurvy, old, filthy, scurvy lord! Well, I must be patient; there
- is no fettering of authority. I'll beat him, by my life, if I can
- meet him with any convenience, an he were double and double a
- lord. I'll have no more pity of his age than I would have of-
- I'll beat him, and if I could but meet him again.
-
- Re-enter LAFEU
-
- LAFEU. Sirrah, your lord and master's married; there's news for
- you; you have a new mistress.
- PAROLLES. I most unfeignedly beseech your lordship to make some
- reservation of your wrongs. He is my good lord: whom I serve
- above is my master.
- LAFEU. Who? God?
- PAROLLES. Ay, sir.
- LAFEU. The devil it is that's thy master. Why dost thou garter up
- thy arms o' this fashion? Dost make hose of thy sleeves? Do other
- servants so? Thou wert best set thy lower part where thy nose
- stands. By mine honour, if I were but two hours younger, I'd beat
- thee. Methink'st thou art a general offence, and every man should
- beat thee. I think thou wast created for men to breathe
- themselves upon thee.
- PAROLLES. This is hard and undeserved measure, my lord.
- LAFEU. Go to, sir; you were beaten in Italy for picking a kernel
- out of a pomegranate; you are a vagabond, and no true traveller;
- you are more saucy with lords and honourable personages than the
- commission of your birth and virtue gives you heraldry. You are
- not worth another word, else I'd call you knave. I leave you.
- Exit
-
- Enter BERTRAM
-
- PAROLLES. Good, very, good, it is so then. Good, very good; let it
- be conceal'd awhile.
- BERTRAM. Undone, and forfeited to cares for ever!
- PAROLLES. What's the matter, sweetheart?
- BERTRAM. Although before the solemn priest I have sworn,
- I will not bed her.
- PAROLLES. What, what, sweetheart?
- BERTRAM. O my Parolles, they have married me!
- I'll to the Tuscan wars, and never bed her.
- PAROLLES. France is a dog-hole, and it no more merits
- The tread of a man's foot. To th' wars!
- BERTRAM. There's letters from my mother; what th' import is I know
- not yet.
- PAROLLES. Ay, that would be known. To th' wars, my boy, to th'
- wars!
- He wears his honour in a box unseen
- That hugs his kicky-wicky here at home,
- Spending his manly marrow in her arms,
- Which should sustain the bound and high curvet
- Of Mars's fiery steed. To other regions!
- France is a stable; we that dwell in't jades;
- Therefore, to th' war!
- BERTRAM. It shall be so; I'll send her to my house,
- Acquaint my mother with my hate to her,
- And wherefore I am fled; write to the King
- That which I durst not speak. His present gift
- Shall furnish me to those Italian fields
- Where noble fellows strike. War is no strife
- To the dark house and the detested wife.
- PAROLLES. Will this capriccio hold in thee, art sure?
- BERTRAM. Go with me to my chamber and advise me.
- I'll send her straight away. To-morrow
- I'll to the wars, she to her single sorrow.
- PAROLLES. Why, these balls bound; there's noise in it. 'Tis hard:
- A young man married is a man that's marr'd.
- Therefore away, and leave her bravely; go.
- The King has done you wrong; but, hush, 'tis so. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-ACT II. SCENE 4.
-Paris. The KING'S palace
-
-Enter HELENA and CLOWN
-
- HELENA. My mother greets me kindly; is she well?
- CLOWN. She is not well, but yet she has her health; she's very
- merry, but yet she is not well. But thanks be given, she's very
- well, and wants nothing i' th' world; but yet she is not well.
- HELENA. If she be very well, what does she ail that she's not very
- well?
- CLOWN. Truly, she's very well indeed, but for two things.
- HELENA. What two things?
- CLOWN. One, that she's not in heaven, whither God send her quickly!
- The other, that she's in earth, from whence God send her quickly!
-
- Enter PAROLLES
-
- PAROLLES. Bless you, my fortunate lady!
- HELENA. I hope, sir, I have your good will to have mine own good
- fortunes.
- PAROLLES. You had my prayers to lead them on; and to keep them on,
- have them still. O, my knave, how does my old lady?
- CLOWN. So that you had her wrinkles and I her money, I would she
- did as you say.
- PAROLLES. Why, I say nothing.
- CLOWN. Marry, you are the wiser man; for many a man's tongue shakes
- out his master's undoing. To say nothing, to do nothing, to know
- nothing, and to have nothing, is to be a great part of your
- title, which is within a very little of nothing.
- PAROLLES. Away! th'art a knave.
- CLOWN. You should have said, sir, 'Before a knave th'art a knave';
- that's 'Before me th'art a knave.' This had been truth, sir.
- PAROLLES. Go to, thou art a witty fool; I have found thee.
- CLOWN. Did you find me in yourself, sir, or were you taught to find
- me? The search, sir, was profitable; and much fool may you find
- in you, even to the world's pleasure and the increase of
- laughter.
- PAROLLES. A good knave, i' faith, and well fed.
- Madam, my lord will go away to-night:
- A very serious business calls on him.
- The great prerogative and rite of love,
- Which, as your due, time claims, he does acknowledge;
- But puts it off to a compell'd restraint;
- Whose want, and whose delay, is strew'd with sweets,
- Which they distil now in the curbed time,
- To make the coming hour o'erflow with joy
- And pleasure drown the brim.
- HELENA. What's his else?
- PAROLLES. That you will take your instant leave o' th' King,
- And make this haste as your own good proceeding,
- Strength'ned with what apology you think
- May make it probable need.
- HELENA. What more commands he?
- PAROLLES. That, having this obtain'd, you presently
- Attend his further pleasure.
- HELENA. In everything I wait upon his will.
- PAROLLES. I shall report it so.
- HELENA. I pray you. Exit PAROLLES
- Come, sirrah. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-ACT II. SCENE 5.
-Paris. The KING'S palace
-
-Enter LAFEU and BERTRAM
-
- LAFEU. But I hope your lordship thinks not him a soldier.
- BERTRAM. Yes, my lord, and of very valiant approof.
- LAFEU. You have it from his own deliverance.
- BERTRAM. And by other warranted testimony.
- LAFEU. Then my dial goes not true; I took this lark for a bunting.
- BERTRAM. I do assure you, my lord, he is very great in knowledge,
- and accordingly valiant.
- LAFEU. I have then sinn'd against his experience and transgress'd
- against his valour; and my state that way is dangerous, since I
- cannot yet find in my heart to repent. Here he comes; I pray you
- make us friends; I will pursue the amity
-
- Enter PAROLLES
-
- PAROLLES. [To BERTRAM] These things shall be done, sir.
- LAFEU. Pray you, sir, who's his tailor?
- PAROLLES. Sir!
- LAFEU. O, I know him well. Ay, sir; he, sir, 's a good workman, a
- very good tailor.
- BERTRAM. [Aside to PAROLLES] Is she gone to the King?
- PAROLLES. She is.
- BERTRAM. Will she away to-night?
- PAROLLES. As you'll have her.
- BERTRAM. I have writ my letters, casketed my treasure,
- Given order for our horses; and to-night,
- When I should take possession of the bride,
- End ere I do begin.
- LAFEU. A good traveller is something at the latter end of a dinner;
- but one that lies three-thirds and uses a known truth to pass a
- thousand nothings with, should be once heard and thrice beaten.
- God save you, Captain.
- BERTRAM. Is there any unkindness between my lord and you, monsieur?
- PAROLLES. I know not how I have deserved to run into my lord's
- displeasure.
- LAFEU. You have made shift to run into 't, boots and spurs and all,
- like him that leapt into the custard; and out of it you'll run
- again, rather than suffer question for your residence.
- BERTRAM. It may be you have mistaken him, my lord.
- LAFEU. And shall do so ever, though I took him at's prayers.
- Fare you well, my lord; and believe this of me: there can be no
- kernal in this light nut; the soul of this man is his clothes;
- trust him not in matter of heavy consequence; I have kept of them
- tame, and know their natures. Farewell, monsieur; I have spoken
- better of you than you have or will to deserve at my hand; but we
- must do good against evil. Exit
- PAROLLES. An idle lord, I swear.
- BERTRAM. I think so.
- PAROLLES. Why, do you not know him?
- BERTRAM. Yes, I do know him well; and common speech
- Gives him a worthy pass. Here comes my clog.
-
- Enter HELENA
-
- HELENA. I have, sir, as I was commanded from you,
- Spoke with the King, and have procur'd his leave
- For present parting; only he desires
- Some private speech with you.
- BERTRAM. I shall obey his will.
- You must not marvel, Helen, at my course,
- Which holds not colour with the time, nor does
- The ministration and required office
- On my particular. Prepar'd I was not
- For such a business; therefore am I found
- So much unsettled. This drives me to entreat you
- That presently you take your way for home,
- And rather muse than ask why I entreat you;
- For my respects are better than they seem,
- And my appointments have in them a need
- Greater than shows itself at the first view
- To you that know them not. This to my mother.
- [Giving a letter]
- 'Twill be two days ere I shall see you; so
- I leave you to your wisdom.
- HELENA. Sir, I can nothing say
- But that I am your most obedient servant.
- BERTRAM. Come, come, no more of that.
- HELENA. And ever shall
- With true observance seek to eke out that
- Wherein toward me my homely stars have fail'd
- To equal my great fortune.
- BERTRAM. Let that go.
- My haste is very great. Farewell; hie home.
- HELENA. Pray, sir, your pardon.
- BERTRAM. Well, what would you say?
- HELENA. I am not worthy of the wealth I owe,
- Nor dare I say 'tis mine, and yet it is;
- But, like a timorous thief, most fain would steal
- What law does vouch mine own.
- BERTRAM. What would you have?
- HELENA. Something; and scarce so much; nothing, indeed.
- I would not tell you what I would, my lord.
- Faith, yes:
- Strangers and foes do sunder and not kiss.
- BERTRAM. I pray you, stay not, but in haste to horse.
- HELENA. I shall not break your bidding, good my lord.
- BERTRAM. Where are my other men, monsieur?
- Farewell! Exit HELENA
- Go thou toward home, where I will never come
- Whilst I can shake my sword or hear the drum.
- Away, and for our flight.
- PAROLLES. Bravely, coragio! Exeunt
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-
-ACT III. SCENE 1.
-Florence. The DUKE's palace
-
- Flourish. Enter the DUKE OF FLORENCE, attended; two
- FRENCH LORDS, with a TROOP OF SOLDIERS
-
- DUKE. So that, from point to point, now have you hear
- The fundamental reasons of this war;
- Whose great decision hath much blood let forth
- And more thirsts after.
- FIRST LORD. Holy seems the quarrel
- Upon your Grace's part; black and fearful
- On the opposer.
- DUKE. Therefore we marvel much our cousin France
- Would in so just a business shut his bosom
- Against our borrowing prayers.
- SECOND LORD. Good my lord,
- The reasons of our state I cannot yield,
- But like a common and an outward man
- That the great figure of a council frames
- By self-unable motion; therefore dare not
- Say what I think of it, since I have found
- Myself in my incertain grounds to fail
- As often as I guess'd.
- DUKE. Be it his pleasure.
- FIRST LORD. But I am sure the younger of our nature,
- That surfeit on their ease, will day by day
- Come here for physic.
- DUKE. Welcome shall they be
- And all the honours that can fly from us
- Shall on them settle. You know your places well;
- When better fall, for your avails they fell.
- To-morrow to th' field. Flourish. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-ACT III. SCENE 2.
-Rousillon. The COUNT'S palace
-
-Enter COUNTESS and CLOWN
-
- COUNTESS. It hath happen'd all as I would have had it, save that he
- comes not along with her.
- CLOWN. By my troth, I take my young lord to be a very melancholy
- man.
- COUNTESS. By what observance, I pray you?
- CLOWN. Why, he will look upon his boot and sing; mend the ruff and
- sing; ask questions and sing; pick his teeth and sing. I know a
- man that had this trick of melancholy sold a goodly manor for a
- song.
- COUNTESS. Let me see what he writes, and when he means to come.
- [Opening a letter]
- CLOWN. I have no mind to Isbel since I was at court. Our old ling
- and our Isbels o' th' country are nothing like your old ling and
- your Isbels o' th' court. The brains of my Cupid's knock'd out;
- and I begin to love, as an old man loves money, with no stomach.
- COUNTESS. What have we here?
- CLOWN. E'en that you have there. Exit
- COUNTESS. [Reads] 'I have sent you a daughter-in-law; she hath
- recovered the King and undone me. I have wedded her, not bedded
- her; and sworn to make the "not" eternal. You shall hear I am run
- away; know it before the report come. If there be breadth enough
- in the world, I will hold a long distance. My duty to you.
- Your unfortunate son,
- BERTRAM.'
- This is not well, rash and unbridled boy,
- To fly the favours of so good a king,
- To pluck his indignation on thy head
- By the misprizing of a maid too virtuous
- For the contempt of empire.
-
- Re-enter CLOWN
-
- CLOWN. O madam, yonder is heavy news within between two soldiers
- and my young lady.
- COUNTESS. What is the -matter?
- CLOWN. Nay, there is some comfort in the news, some comfort; your
- son will not be kill'd so soon as I thought he would.
- COUNTESS. Why should he be kill'd?
- CLOWN. So say I, madam, if he run away, as I hear he does the
- danger is in standing to 't; that's the loss of men, though it be
- the getting of children. Here they come will tell you more. For my
- part, I only hear your son was run away. Exit
-
- Enter HELENA and the two FRENCH GENTLEMEN
-
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. Save you, good madam.
- HELENA. Madam, my lord is gone, for ever gone.
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. Do not say so.
- COUNTESS. Think upon patience. Pray you, gentlemen-
- I have felt so many quirks of joy and grief
- That the first face of neither, on the start,
- Can woman me unto 't. Where is my son, I pray you?
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. Madam, he's gone to serve the Duke of Florence.
- We met him thitherward; for thence we came,
- And, after some dispatch in hand at court,
- Thither we bend again.
- HELENA. Look on this letter, madam; here's my passport.
- [Reads] 'When thou canst get the ring upon my finger, which
- never shall come off, and show me a child begotten of thy body
- that I am father to, then call me husband; but in such a "then" I
- write a "never."
- This is a dreadful sentence.
- COUNTESS. Brought you this letter, gentlemen?
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. Ay, madam;
- And for the contents' sake are sorry for our pains.
- COUNTESS. I prithee, lady, have a better cheer;
- If thou engrossest all the griefs are thine,
- Thou robb'st me of a moiety. He was my son;
- But I do wash his name out of my blood,
- And thou art all my child. Towards Florence is he?
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. Ay, madam.
- COUNTESS. And to be a soldier?
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. Such is his noble purpose; and, believe 't,
- The Duke will lay upon him all the honour
- That good convenience claims.
- COUNTESS. Return you thither?
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. Ay, madam, with the swiftest wing of speed.
- HELENA. [Reads] 'Till I have no wife, I have nothing in France.'
- 'Tis bitter.
- COUNTESS. Find you that there?
- HELENA. Ay, madam.
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. 'Tis but the boldness of his hand haply, which
- his heart was not consenting to.
- COUNTESS. Nothing in France until he have no wife!
- There's nothing here that is too good for him
- But only she; and she deserves a lord
- That twenty such rude boys might tend upon,
- And call her hourly mistress. Who was with him?
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. A servant only, and a gentleman
- Which I have sometime known.
- COUNTESS. Parolles, was it not?
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. Ay, my good lady, he.
- COUNTESS. A very tainted fellow, and full of wickedness.
- My son corrupts a well-derived nature
- With his inducement.
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. Indeed, good lady,
- The fellow has a deal of that too much
- Which holds him much to have.
- COUNTESS. Y'are welcome, gentlemen.
- I will entreat you, when you see my son,
- To tell him that his sword can never win
- The honour that he loses. More I'll entreat you
- Written to bear along.
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. We serve you, madam,
- In that and all your worthiest affairs.
- COUNTESS. Not so, but as we change our courtesies.
- Will you draw near? Exeunt COUNTESS and GENTLEMEN
- HELENA. 'Till I have no wife, I have nothing in France.'
- Nothing in France until he has no wife!
- Thou shalt have none, Rousillon, none in France
- Then hast thou all again. Poor lord! is't
- That chase thee from thy country, and expose
- Those tender limbs of thine to the event
- Of the non-sparing war? And is it I
- That drive thee from the sportive court, where thou
- Wast shot at with fair eyes, to be the mark
- Of smoky muskets? O you leaden messengers,
- That ride upon the violent speed of fire,
- Fly with false aim; move the still-piecing air,
- That sings with piercing; do not touch my lord.
- Whoever shoots at him, I set him there;
- Whoever charges on his forward breast,
- I am the caitiff that do hold him to't;
- And though I kill him not, I am the cause
- His death was so effected. Better 'twere
- I met the ravin lion when he roar'd
- With sharp constraint of hunger; better 'twere
- That all the miseries which nature owes
- Were mine at once. No; come thou home, Rousillon,
- Whence honour but of danger wins a scar,
- As oft it loses all. I will be gone.
- My being here it is that holds thee hence.
- Shall I stay here to do 't? No, no, although
- The air of paradise did fan the house,
- And angels offic'd all. I will be gone,
- That pitiful rumour may report my flight
- To consolate thine ear. Come, night; end, day.
- For with the dark, poor thief, I'll steal away. Exit
-
-
-
-
-ACT III. SCENE 3.
-Florence. Before the DUKE's palace
-
-Flourish. Enter the DUKE OF FLORENCE, BERTRAM, PAROLLES, SOLDIERS,
-drum and trumpets
-
- DUKE. The General of our Horse thou art; and we,
- Great in our hope, lay our best love and credence
- Upon thy promising fortune.
- BERTRAM. Sir, it is
- A charge too heavy for my strength; but yet
- We'll strive to bear it for your worthy sake
- To th' extreme edge of hazard.
- DUKE. Then go thou forth;
- And Fortune play upon thy prosperous helm,
- As thy auspicious mistress!
- BERTRAM. This very day,
- Great Mars, I put myself into thy file;
- Make me but like my thoughts, and I shall prove
- A lover of thy drum, hater of love. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-ACT III. SCENE 4.
-Rousillon. The COUNT'S palace
-
-Enter COUNTESS and STEWARD
-
- COUNTESS. Alas! and would you take the letter of her?
- Might you not know she would do as she has done
- By sending me a letter? Read it again.
- STEWARD. [Reads] 'I am Saint Jaques' pilgrim, thither gone.
- Ambitious love hath so in me offended
- That barefoot plod I the cold ground upon,
- With sainted vow my faults to have amended.
- Write, write, that from the bloody course of war
- My dearest master, your dear son, may hie.
- Bless him at home in peace, whilst I from far
- His name with zealous fervour sanctify.
- His taken labours bid him me forgive;
- I, his despiteful Juno, sent him forth
- From courtly friends, with camping foes to live,
- Where death and danger dogs the heels of worth.
- He is too good and fair for death and me;
- Whom I myself embrace to set him free.'
- COUNTESS. Ah, what sharp stings are in her mildest words!
- Rinaldo, you did never lack advice so much
- As letting her pass so; had I spoke with her,
- I could have well diverted her intents,
- Which thus she hath prevented.
- STEWARD. Pardon me, madam;
- If I had given you this at over-night,
- She might have been o'er ta'en; and yet she writes
- Pursuit would be but vain.
- COUNTESS. What angel shall
- Bless this unworthy husband? He cannot thrive,
- Unless her prayers, whom heaven delights to hear
- And loves to grant, reprieve him from the wrath
- Of greatest justice. Write, write, Rinaldo,
- To this unworthy husband of his wife;
- Let every word weigh heavy of her worth
- That he does weigh too light. My greatest grief,
- Though little he do feel it, set down sharply.
- Dispatch the most convenient messenger.
- When haply he shall hear that she is gone
- He will return; and hope I may that she,
- Hearing so much, will speed her foot again,
- Led hither by pure love. Which of them both
- Is dearest to me I have no skill in sense
- To make distinction. Provide this messenger.
- My heart is heavy, and mine age is weak;
- Grief would have tears, and sorrow bids me speak. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-ACT III. SCENE 5.
-
-Without the walls of Florence
-A tucket afar off. Enter an old WIDOW OF FLORENCE, her daughter DIANA,
-VIOLENTA, and MARIANA, with other CITIZENS
-
- WIDOW. Nay, come; for if they do approach the city we shall lose
- all the sight.
- DIANA. They say the French count has done most honourable service.
- WIDOW. It is reported that he has taken their great'st commander;
- and that with his own hand he slew the Duke's brother. [Tucket]
- We have lost our labour; they are gone a contrary way. Hark! you
- may know by their trumpets.
- MARIANA. Come, let's return again, and suffice ourselves with the
- report of it. Well, Diana, take heed of this French earl; the
- honour of a maid is her name, and no legacy is so rich as
- honesty.
- WIDOW. I have told my neighbour how you have been solicited by a
- gentleman his companion.
- MARIANA. I know that knave, hang him! one Parolles; a filthy
- officer he is in those suggestions for the young earl. Beware of
- them, Diana: their promises, enticements, oaths, tokens, and all
- these engines of lust, are not the things they go under; many a
- maid hath been seduced by them; and the misery is, example, that
- so terrible shows in the wreck of maidenhood, cannot for all that
- dissuade succession, but that they are limed with the twigs that
- threatens them. I hope I need not to advise you further; but I
- hope your own grace will keep you where you are, though there
- were no further danger known but the modesty which is so lost.
- DIANA. You shall not need to fear me.
-
- Enter HELENA in the dress of a pilgrim
-
- WIDOW. I hope so. Look, here comes a pilgrim. I know she will lie
- at my house: thither they send one another. I'll question her.
- God save you, pilgrim! Whither are bound?
- HELENA. To Saint Jaques le Grand.
- Where do the palmers lodge, I do beseech you?
- WIDOW. At the Saint Francis here, beside the port.
- HELENA. Is this the way?
- [A march afar]
- WIDOW. Ay, marry, is't. Hark you! They come this way.
- If you will tarry, holy pilgrim,
- But till the troops come by,
- I will conduct you where you shall be lodg'd;
- The rather for I think I know your hostess
- As ample as myself.
- HELENA. Is it yourself?
- WIDOW. If you shall please so, pilgrim.
- HELENA. I thank you, and will stay upon your leisure.
- WIDOW. You came, I think, from France?
- HELENA. I did so.
- WIDOW. Here you shall see a countryman of yours
- That has done worthy service.
- HELENA. His name, I pray you.
- DIANA. The Count Rousillon. Know you such a one?
- HELENA. But by the ear, that hears most nobly of him;
- His face I know not.
- DIANA. What some'er he is,
- He's bravely taken here. He stole from France,
- As 'tis reported, for the King had married him
- Against his liking. Think you it is so?
- HELENA. Ay, surely, mere the truth; I know his lady.
- DIANA. There is a gentleman that serves the Count
- Reports but coarsely of her.
- HELENA. What's his name?
- DIANA. Monsieur Parolles.
- HELENA. O, I believe with him,
- In argument of praise, or to the worth
- Of the great Count himself, she is too mean
- To have her name repeated; all her deserving
- Is a reserved honesty, and that
- I have not heard examin'd.
- DIANA. Alas, poor lady!
- 'Tis a hard bondage to become the wife
- Of a detesting lord.
- WIDOW. I sweet, good creature, wheresoe'er she is
- Her heart weighs sadly. This young maid might do her
- A shrewd turn, if she pleas'd.
- HELENA. How do you mean?
- May be the amorous Count solicits her
- In the unlawful purpose.
- WIDOW. He does, indeed;
- And brokes with all that can in such a suit
- Corrupt the tender honour of a maid;
- But she is arm'd for him, and keeps her guard
- In honestest defence.
-
- Enter, with drum and colours, BERTRAM, PAROLLES, and the
- whole ARMY
-
- MARIANA. The gods forbid else!
- WIDOW. So, now they come.
- That is Antonio, the Duke's eldest son;
- That, Escalus.
- HELENA. Which is the Frenchman?
- DIANA. He-
- That with the plume; 'tis a most gallant fellow.
- I would he lov'd his wife; if he were honester
- He were much goodlier. Is't not a handsome gentleman?
- HELENA. I like him well.
- DIANA. 'Tis pity he is not honest. Yond's that same knave
- That leads him to these places; were I his lady
- I would poison that vile rascal.
- HELENA. Which is he?
- DIANA. That jack-an-apes with scarfs. Why is he melancholy?
- HELENA. Perchance he's hurt i' th' battle.
- PAROLLES. Lose our drum! well.
- MARIANA. He's shrewdly vex'd at something.
- Look, he has spied us.
- WIDOW. Marry, hang you!
- MARIANA. And your courtesy, for a ring-carrier!
- Exeunt BERTRAM, PAROLLES, and ARMY
- WIDOW. The troop is past. Come, pilgrim, I will bring you
- Where you shall host. Of enjoin'd penitents
- There's four or five, to great Saint Jaques bound,
- Already at my house.
- HELENA. I humbly thank you.
- Please it this matron and this gentle maid
- To eat with us to-night; the charge and thanking
- Shall be for me, and, to requite you further,
- I will bestow some precepts of this virgin,
- Worthy the note.
- BOTH. We'll take your offer kindly. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-ACT III. SCENE 6.
-Camp before Florence
-
-Enter BERTRAM, and the two FRENCH LORDS
-
- SECOND LORD. Nay, good my lord, put him to't; let him have his way.
- FIRST LORD. If your lordship find him not a hiding, hold me no more
- in your respect.
- SECOND LORD. On my life, my lord, a bubble.
- BERTRAM. Do you think I am so far deceived in him?
- SECOND LORD. Believe it, my lord, in mine own direct knowledge,
- without any malice, but to speak of him as my kinsman, he's a
- most notable coward, an infinite and endless liar, an hourly
- promise-breaker, the owner of no one good quality worthy your
- lordship's entertainment.
- FIRST LORD. It were fit you knew him; lest, reposing too far in his
- virtue, which he hath not, he might at some great and trusty
- business in a main danger fail you.
- BERTRAM. I would I knew in what particular action to try him.
- FIRST LORD. None better than to let him fetch off his drum, which
- you hear him so confidently undertake to do.
- SECOND LORD. I with a troop of Florentines will suddenly surprise
- him; such I will have whom I am sure he knows not from the enemy.
- We will bind and hoodwink him so that he shall suppose no other
- but that he is carried into the leaguer of the adversaries when
- we bring him to our own tents. Be but your lordship present at
- his examination; if he do not, for the promise of his life and in
- the highest compulsion of base fear, offer to betray you and
- deliver all the intelligence in his power against you, and that
- with the divine forfeit of his soul upon oath, never trust my
- judgment in anything.
- FIRST LORD. O, for the love of laughter, let him fetch his drum; he
- says he has a stratagem for't. When your lordship sees the bottom
- of his success in't, and to what metal this counterfeit lump of
- ore will be melted, if you give him not John Drum's
- entertainment, your inclining cannot be removed. Here he comes.
-
- Enter PAROLLES
-
- SECOND LORD. O, for the love of laughter, hinder not the honour of
- his design; let him fetch off his drum in any hand.
- BERTRAM. How now, monsieur! This drum sticks sorely in your
- disposition.
- FIRST LORD. A pox on 't; let it go; 'tis but a drum.
- PAROLLES. But a drum! Is't but a drum? A drum so lost! There was
- excellent command: to charge in with our horse upon our own
- wings, and to rend our own soldiers!
- FIRST LORD. That was not to be blam'd in the command of the
- service; it was a disaster of war that Caesar himself could not
- have prevented, if he had been there to command.
- BERTRAM. Well, we cannot greatly condemn our success.
- Some dishonour we had in the loss of that drum; but it is not to
- be recovered.
- PAROLLES. It might have been recovered.
- BERTRAM. It might, but it is not now.
- PAROLLES. It is to be recovered. But that the merit of service is
- seldom attributed to the true and exact performer, I would have
- that drum or another, or 'hic jacet.'
- BERTRAM. Why, if you have a stomach, to't, monsieur. If you think
- your mystery in stratagem can bring this instrument of honour
- again into his native quarter, be magnanimous in the enterprise,
- and go on; I will grace the attempt for a worthy exploit. If you
- speed well in it, the Duke shall both speak of it and extend to
- you what further becomes his greatness, even to the utmost
- syllable of our worthiness.
- PAROLLES. By the hand of a soldier, I will undertake it.
- BERTRAM. But you must not now slumber in it.
- PAROLLES. I'll about it this evening; and I will presently pen
- down my dilemmas, encourage myself in my certainty, put myself
- into my mortal preparation; and by midnight look to hear further
- from me.
- BERTRAM. May I be bold to acquaint his Grace you are gone about it?
- PAROLLES. I know not what the success will be, my lord, but the
- attempt I vow.
- BERTRAM. I know th' art valiant; and, to the of thy soldiership,
- will subscribe for thee. Farewell.
- PAROLLES. I love not many words. Exit
- SECOND LORD. No more than a fish loves water. Is not this a strange
- fellow, my lord, that so confidently seems to undertake this
- business, which he knows is not to be done; damns himself to do,
- and dares better be damn'd than to do 't.
- FIRST LORD. You do not know him, my lord, as we do. Certain it is
- that he will steal himself into a man's favour, and for a week
- escape a great deal of discoveries; but when you find him out,
- you have him ever after.
- BERTRAM. Why, do you think he will make no deed at all of this that
- so seriously he does address himself unto?
- SECOND LORD. None in the world; but return with an invention, and
- clap upon you two or three probable lies. But we have almost
- emboss'd him. You shall see his fall to-night; for indeed he is
- not for your lordship's respect.
- FIRST LORD. We'll make you some sport with the fox ere we case him.
- He was first smok'd by the old Lord Lafeu. When his disguise and
- he is parted, tell me what a sprat you shall find him; which you
- shall see this very night.
- SECOND LORD. I must go look my twigs; he shall be caught.
- BERTRAM. Your brother, he shall go along with me.
- SECOND LORD. As't please your lordship. I'll leave you. Exit
- BERTRAM. Now will I lead you to the house, and show you
- The lass I spoke of.
- FIRST LORD. But you say she's honest.
- BERTRAM. That's all the fault. I spoke with her but once,
- And found her wondrous cold; but I sent to her,
- By this same coxcomb that we have i' th' wind,
- Tokens and letters which she did re-send;
- And this is all I have done. She's a fair creature;
- Will you go see her?
- FIRST LORD. With all my heart, my lord. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-ACT III. SCENE 7.
-Florence. The WIDOW'S house
-
-Enter HELENA and WIDOW
-
- HELENA. If you misdoubt me that I am not she,
- I know not how I shall assure you further
- But I shall lose the grounds I work upon.
- WIDOW. Though my estate be fall'n, I was well born,
- Nothing acquainted with these businesses;
- And would not put my reputation now
- In any staining act.
- HELENA. Nor would I wish you.
- FIRST give me trust the Count he is my husband,
- And what to your sworn counsel I have spoken
- Is so from word to word; and then you cannot,
- By the good aid that I of you shall borrow,
- Err in bestowing it.
- WIDOW. I should believe you;
- For you have show'd me that which well approves
- Y'are great in fortune.
- HELENA. Take this purse of gold,
- And let me buy your friendly help thus far,
- Which I will over-pay and pay again
- When I have found it. The Count he woos your daughter
- Lays down his wanton siege before her beauty,
- Resolv'd to carry her. Let her in fine consent,
- As we'll direct her how 'tis best to bear it.
- Now his important blood will nought deny
- That she'll demand. A ring the County wears
- That downward hath succeeded in his house
- From son to son some four or five descents
- Since the first father wore it. This ring he holds
- In most rich choice; yet, in his idle fire,
- To buy his will, it would not seem too dear,
- Howe'er repented after.
- WIDOW. Now I see
- The bottom of your purpose.
- HELENA. You see it lawful then. It is no more
- But that your daughter, ere she seems as won,
- Desires this ring; appoints him an encounter;
- In fine, delivers me to fill the time,
- Herself most chastely absent. After this,
- To marry her, I'll add three thousand crowns
- To what is pass'd already.
- WIDOW. I have yielded.
- Instruct my daughter how she shall persever,
- That time and place with this deceit so lawful
- May prove coherent. Every night he comes
- With musics of all sorts, and songs compos'd
- To her unworthiness. It nothing steads us
- To chide him from our eaves, for he persists
- As if his life lay on 't.
- HELENA. Why then to-night
- Let us assay our plot; which, if it speed,
- Is wicked meaning in a lawful deed,
- And lawful meaning in a lawful act;
- Where both not sin, and yet a sinful fact.
- But let's about it. Exeunt
-
-
-
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-
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-
-
-ACT IV. SCENE 1.
-Without the Florentine camp
-
-Enter SECOND FRENCH LORD with five or six other SOLDIERS in ambush
-
- SECOND LORD. He can come no other way but by this hedge-corner.
- When you sally upon him, speak what terrible language you will;
- though you understand it not yourselves, no matter; for we must
- not seem to understand him, unless some one among us, whom we
- must produce for an interpreter.
- FIRST SOLDIER. Good captain, let me be th' interpreter.
- SECOND LORD. Art not acquainted with him? Knows he not thy voice?
- FIRST SOLDIER. No, sir, I warrant you.
- SECOND LORD. But what linsey-woolsey has thou to speak to us again?
- FIRST SOLDIER. E'en such as you speak to me.
- SECOND LORD. He must think us some band of strangers i' th'
- adversary's entertainment. Now he hath a smack of all
- neighbouring languages, therefore we must every one be a man of
- his own fancy; not to know what we speak one to another, so we
- seem to know, is to know straight our purpose: choughs' language,
- gabble enough, and good enough. As for you, interpreter, you must
- seem very politic. But couch, ho! here he comes; to beguile two
- hours in a sleep, and then to return and swear the lies he forges.
-
- Enter PAROLLES
-
- PAROLLES. Ten o'clock. Within these three hours 'twill be time
- enough to go home. What shall I say I have done? It must be a
- very plausive invention that carries it. They begin to smoke me;
- and disgraces have of late knock'd to often at my door. I find my
- tongue is too foolhardy; but my heart hath the fear of Mars
- before it, and of his creatures, not daring the reports of my
- tongue.
- SECOND LORD. This is the first truth that e'er thine own tongue was
- guilty of.
- PAROLLES. What the devil should move me to undertake the recovery
- of this drum, being not ignorant of the impossibility, and
- knowing I had no such purpose? I must give myself some hurts, and
- say I got them in exploit. Yet slight ones will not carry it.
- They will say 'Came you off with so little?' And great ones I
- dare not give. Wherefore, what's the instance? Tongue, I must put
- you into a butterwoman's mouth, and buy myself another of
- Bajazet's mule, if you prattle me into these perils.
- SECOND LORD. Is it possible he should know what he is, and be that
- he is?
- PAROLLES. I would the cutting of my garments would serve the turn,
- or the breaking of my Spanish sword.
- SECOND LORD. We cannot afford you so.
- PAROLLES. Or the baring of my beard; and to say it was in
- stratagem.
- SECOND LORD. 'Twould not do.
- PAROLLES. Or to drown my clothes, and say I was stripp'd.
- SECOND LORD. Hardly serve.
- PAROLLES. Though I swore I leap'd from the window of the citadel-
- SECOND LORD. How deep?
- PAROLLES. Thirty fathom.
- SECOND LORD. Three great oaths would scarce make that be believed.
- PAROLLES. I would I had any drum of the enemy's; I would swear I
- recover'd it.
- SECOND LORD. You shall hear one anon. [Alarum within]
- PAROLLES. A drum now of the enemy's!
- SECOND LORD. Throca movousus, cargo, cargo, cargo.
- ALL. Cargo, cargo, cargo, villianda par corbo, cargo.
- PAROLLES. O, ransom, ransom! Do not hide mine eyes.
- [They blindfold him]
- FIRST SOLDIER. Boskos thromuldo boskos.
- PAROLLES. I know you are the Muskos' regiment,
- And I shall lose my life for want of language.
- If there be here German, or Dane, Low Dutch,
- Italian, or French, let him speak to me;
- I'll discover that which shall undo the Florentine.
- FIRST SOLDIER. Boskos vauvado. I understand thee, and can speak thy
- tongue. Kerely-bonto, sir, betake thee to thy faith, for
- seventeen poniards are at thy bosom.
- PAROLLES. O!
- FIRST SOLDIER. O, pray, pray, pray! Manka revania dulche.
- SECOND LORD. Oscorbidulchos volivorco.
- FIRST SOLDIER. The General is content to spare thee yet;
- And, hoodwink'd as thou art, will lead thee on
- To gather from thee. Haply thou mayst inform
- Something to save thy life.
- PAROLLES. O, let me live,
- And all the secrets of our camp I'll show,
- Their force, their purposes. Nay, I'll speak that
- Which you will wonder at.
- FIRST SOLDIER. But wilt thou faithfully?
- PAROLLES. If I do not, damn me.
- FIRST SOLDIER. Acordo linta.
- Come on; thou art granted space.
- Exit, PAROLLES guarded. A short alarum within
- SECOND LORD. Go, tell the Count Rousillon and my brother
- We have caught the woodcock, and will keep him muffled
- Till we do hear from them.
- SECOND SOLDIER. Captain, I will.
- SECOND LORD. 'A will betray us all unto ourselves-
- Inform on that.
- SECOND SOLDIER. So I will, sir.
- SECOND LORD. Till then I'll keep him dark and safely lock'd.
- Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-ACT IV. SCENE 2.
-Florence. The WIDOW'S house
-
-Enter BERTRAM and DIANA
-
- BERTRAM. They told me that your name was Fontibell.
- DIANA. No, my good lord, Diana.
- BERTRAM. Titled goddess;
- And worth it, with addition! But, fair soul,
- In your fine frame hath love no quality?
- If the quick fire of youth light not your mind,
- You are no maiden, but a monument;
- When you are dead, you should be such a one
- As you are now, for you are cold and stern;
- And now you should be as your mother was
- When your sweet self was got.
- DIANA. She then was honest.
- BERTRAM. So should you be.
- DIANA. No.
- My mother did but duty; such, my lord,
- As you owe to your wife.
- BERTRAM. No more o'that!
- I prithee do not strive against my vows.
- I was compell'd to her; but I love the
- By love's own sweet constraint, and will for ever
- Do thee all rights of service.
- DIANA. Ay, so you serve us
- Till we serve you; but when you have our roses
- You barely leave our thorns to prick ourselves,
- And mock us with our bareness.
- BERTRAM. How have I sworn!
- DIANA. 'Tis not the many oaths that makes the truth,
- But the plain single vow that is vow'd true.
- What is not holy, that we swear not by,
- But take the High'st to witness. Then, pray you, tell me:
- If I should swear by Jove's great attributes
- I lov'd you dearly, would you believe my oaths
- When I did love you ill? This has no holding,
- To swear by him whom I protest to love
- That I will work against him. Therefore your oaths
- Are words and poor conditions, but unseal'd-
- At least in my opinion.
- BERTRAM. Change it, change it;
- Be not so holy-cruel. Love is holy;
- And my integrity ne'er knew the crafts
- That you do charge men with. Stand no more off,
- But give thyself unto my sick desires,
- Who then recovers. Say thou art mine, and ever
- My love as it begins shall so persever.
- DIANA. I see that men make ropes in such a scarre
- That we'll forsake ourselves. Give me that ring.
- BERTRAM. I'll lend it thee, my dear, but have no power
- To give it from me.
- DIANA. Will you not, my lord?
- BERTRAM. It is an honour 'longing to our house,
- Bequeathed down from many ancestors;
- Which were the greatest obloquy i' th' world
- In me to lose.
- DIANA. Mine honour's such a ring:
- My chastity's the jewel of our house,
- Bequeathed down from many ancestors;
- Which were the greatest obloquy i' th' world
- In me to lose. Thus your own proper wisdom
- Brings in the champion Honour on my part
- Against your vain assault.
- BERTRAM. Here, take my ring;
- My house, mine honour, yea, my life, be thine,
- And I'll be bid by thee.
- DIANA. When midnight comes, knock at my chamber window;
- I'll order take my mother shall not hear.
- Now will I charge you in the band of truth,
- When you have conquer'd my yet maiden bed,
- Remain there but an hour, nor speak to me:
- My reasons are most strong; and you shall know them
- When back again this ring shall be deliver'd.
- And on your finger in the night I'll put
- Another ring, that what in time proceeds
- May token to the future our past deeds.
- Adieu till then; then fail not. You have won
- A wife of me, though there my hope be done.
- BERTRAM. A heaven on earth I have won by wooing thee.
- Exit
- DIANA. For which live long to thank both heaven and me!
- You may so in the end.
- My mother told me just how he would woo,
- As if she sat in's heart; she says all men
- Have the like oaths. He had sworn to marry me
- When his wife's dead; therefore I'll lie with him
- When I am buried. Since Frenchmen are so braid,
- Marry that will, I live and die a maid.
- Only, in this disguise, I think't no sin
- To cozen him that would unjustly win. Exit
-
-
-
-
-ACT IV. SCENE 3.
-The Florentine camp
-
-Enter the two FRENCH LORDS, and two or three SOLDIERS
-
- SECOND LORD. You have not given him his mother's letter?
- FIRST LORD. I have deliv'red it an hour since. There is something
- in't that stings his nature; for on the reading it he chang'd
- almost into another man.
- SECOND LORD. He has much worthy blame laid upon him for shaking off
- so good a wife and so sweet a lady.
- FIRST LORD. Especially he hath incurred the everlasting displeasure
- of the King, who had even tun'd his bounty to sing happiness to
- him. I will tell you a thing, but you shall let it dwell darkly
- with you.
- SECOND LORD. When you have spoken it, 'tis dead, and I am the grave
- of it.
- FIRST LORD. He hath perverted a young gentlewoman here in Florence,
- of a most chaste renown; and this night he fleshes his will in
- the spoil of her honour. He hath given her his monumental ring,
- and thinks himself made in the unchaste composition.
- SECOND LORD. Now, God delay our rebellion! As we are ourselves,
- what things are we!
- FIRST LORD. Merely our own traitors. And as in the common course of
- all treasons we still see them reveal themselves till they attain
- to their abhorr'd ends; so he that in this action contrives
- against his own nobility, in his proper stream, o'erflows
- himself.
- SECOND LORD. Is it not meant damnable in us to be trumpeters of our
- unlawful intents? We shall not then have his company to-night?
- FIRST LORD. Not till after midnight; for he is dieted to his hour.
- SECOND LORD. That approaches apace. I would gladly have him see his
- company anatomiz'd, that he might take a measure of his own
- judgments, wherein so curiously he had set this counterfeit.
- FIRST LORD. We will not meddle with him till he come; for his
- presence must be the whip of the other.
- SECOND LORD. In the meantime, what hear you of these wars?
- FIRST LORD. I hear there is an overture of peace.
- SECOND LORD. Nay, I assure you, a peace concluded.
- FIRST LORD. What will Count Rousillon do then? Will he travel
- higher, or return again into France?
- SECOND LORD. I perceive, by this demand, you are not altogether
- of his counsel.
- FIRST LORD. Let it be forbid, sir! So should I be a great deal
- of his act.
- SECOND LORD. Sir, his wife, some two months since, fled from his
- house. Her pretence is a pilgrimage to Saint Jaques le Grand;
- which holy undertaking with most austere sanctimony she
- accomplish'd; and, there residing, the tenderness of her nature
- became as a prey to her grief; in fine, made a groan of her last
- breath, and now she sings in heaven.
- FIRST LORD. How is this justified?
- SECOND LORD. The stronger part of it by her own letters, which
- makes her story true even to the point of her death. Her death
- itself, which could not be her office to say is come, was
- faithfully confirm'd by the rector of the place.
- FIRST LORD. Hath the Count all this intelligence?
- SECOND LORD. Ay, and the particular confirmations, point from
- point, to the full arming of the verity.
- FIRST LORD. I am heartily sorry that he'll be glad of this.
- SECOND LORD. How mightily sometimes we make us comforts of our
- losses!
- FIRST LORD. And how mightily some other times we drown our gain in
- tears! The great dignity that his valour hath here acquir'd for
- him shall at home be encount'red with a shame as ample.
- SECOND LORD. The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill
- together. Our virtues would be proud if our faults whipt them
- not; and our crimes would despair if they were not cherish'd by
- our virtues.
-
- Enter a MESSENGER
-
- How now? Where's your master?
- SERVANT. He met the Duke in the street, sir; of whom he hath taken
- a solemn leave. His lordship will next morning for France. The
- Duke hath offered him letters of commendations to the King.
- SECOND LORD. They shall be no more than needful there, if they were
- more than they can commend.
- FIRST LORD. They cannot be too sweet for the King's tartness.
- Here's his lordship now.
-
- Enter BERTRAM
-
- How now, my lord, is't not after midnight?
- BERTRAM. I have to-night dispatch'd sixteen businesses, a month's
- length apiece; by an abstract of success: I have congied with the
- Duke, done my adieu with his nearest; buried a wife, mourn'd for
- her; writ to my lady mother I am returning; entertain'd my
- convoy; and between these main parcels of dispatch effected many
- nicer needs. The last was the greatest, but that I have not ended
- yet.
- SECOND LORD. If the business be of any difficulty and this morning
- your departure hence, it requires haste of your lordship.
- BERTRAM. I mean the business is not ended, as fearing to hear of it
- hereafter. But shall we have this dialogue between the Fool and
- the Soldier? Come, bring forth this counterfeit module has
- deceiv'd me like a double-meaning prophesier.
- SECOND LORD. Bring him forth. [Exeunt SOLDIERS] Has sat i' th'
- stocks all night, poor gallant knave.
- BERTRAM. No matter; his heels have deserv'd it, in usurping his
- spurs so long. How does he carry himself?
- SECOND LORD. I have told your lordship already the stocks carry
- him. But to answer you as you would be understood: he weeps like
- a wench that had shed her milk; he hath confess'd himself to
- Morgan, whom he supposes to be a friar, from the time of his
- remembrance to this very instant disaster of his setting i' th'
- stocks. And what think you he hath confess'd?
- BERTRAM. Nothing of me, has 'a?
- SECOND LORD. His confession is taken, and it shall be read to his
- face; if your lordship be in't, as I believe you are, you must
- have the patience to hear it.
-
- Enter PAROLLES guarded, and
- FIRST SOLDIER as interpreter
-
- BERTRAM. A plague upon him! muffled! He can say nothing of me.
- SECOND LORD. Hush, hush! Hoodman comes. Portotartarossa.
- FIRST SOLDIER. He calls for the tortures. What will you say without
- 'em?
- PAROLLES. I will confess what I know without constraint; if ye
- pinch me like a pasty, I can say no more.
- FIRST SOLDIER. Bosko chimurcho.
- SECOND LORD. Boblibindo chicurmurco.
- FIRST SOLDIER. YOU are a merciful general. Our General bids you
- answer to what I shall ask you out of a note.
- PAROLLES. And truly, as I hope to live.
- FIRST SOLDIER. 'First demand of him how many horse the Duke is
- strong.' What say you to that?
- PAROLLES. Five or six thousand; but very weak and unserviceable.
- The troops are all scattered, and the commanders very poor
- rogues, upon my reputation and credit, and as I hope to live.
- FIRST SOLDIER. Shall I set down your answer so?
- PAROLLES. Do; I'll take the sacrament on 't, how and which way you
- will.
- BERTRAM. All's one to him. What a past-saving slave is this!
- SECOND LORD. Y'are deceiv'd, my lord; this is Monsieur Parolles,
- the gallant militarist-that was his own phrase-that had the whole
- theoric of war in the knot of his scarf, and the practice in the
- chape of his dagger.
- FIRST LORD. I will never trust a man again for keeping his sword
- clean; nor believe he can have everything in him by wearing his
- apparel neatly.
- FIRST SOLDIER. Well, that's set down.
- PAROLLES. 'Five or six thousand horse' I said-I will say true- 'or
- thereabouts' set down, for I'll speak truth.
- SECOND LORD. He's very near the truth in this.
- BERTRAM. But I con him no thanks for't in the nature he delivers it.
- PAROLLES. 'Poor rogues' I pray you say.
- FIRST SOLDIER. Well, that's set down.
- PAROLLES. I humbly thank you, sir. A truth's a truth-the rogues are
- marvellous poor.
- FIRST SOLDIER. 'Demand of him of what strength they are a-foot.'
- What say you to that?
- PAROLLES. By my troth, sir, if I were to live this present hour, I
- will tell true. Let me see: Spurio, a hundred and fifty;
- Sebastian, so many; Corambus, so many; Jaques, so many; Guiltian,
- Cosmo, Lodowick, and Gratii, two hundred fifty each; mine own
- company, Chitopher, Vaumond, Bentii, two hundred fifty each; so
- that the muster-file, rotten and sound, upon my life, amounts not
- to fifteen thousand poll; half of the which dare not shake the
- snow from off their cassocks lest they shake themselves to
- pieces.
- BERTRAM. What shall be done to him?
- SECOND LORD. Nothing, but let him have thanks. Demand of him my
- condition, and what credit I have with the Duke.
- FIRST SOLDIER. Well, that's set down. 'You shall demand of him
- whether one Captain Dumain be i' th' camp, a Frenchman; what his
- reputation is with the Duke, what his valour, honesty, expertness
- in wars; or whether he thinks it were not possible, with
- well-weighing sums of gold, to corrupt him to a revolt.' What say
- you to this? What do you know of it?
- PAROLLES. I beseech you, let me answer to the particular of the
- inter'gatories. Demand them singly.
- FIRST SOLDIER. Do you know this Captain Dumain?
- PAROLLES. I know him: 'a was a botcher's prentice in Paris, from
- whence he was whipt for getting the shrieve's fool with child-a
- dumb innocent that could not say him nay.
- BERTRAM. Nay, by your leave, hold your hands; though I know his
- brains are forfeit to the next tile that falls.
- FIRST SOLDIER. Well, is this captain in the Duke of Florence's
- camp?
- PAROLLES. Upon my knowledge, he is, and lousy.
- SECOND LORD. Nay, look not so upon me; we shall hear of your
- lordship anon.
- FIRST SOLDIER. What is his reputation with the Duke?
- PAROLLES. The Duke knows him for no other but a poor officer of
- mine; and writ to me this other day to turn him out o' th' band.
- I think I have his letter in my pocket.
- FIRST SOLDIER. Marry, we'll search.
- PAROLLES. In good sadness, I do not know; either it is there or it
- is upon a file with the Duke's other letters in my tent.
- FIRST SOLDIER. Here 'tis; here's a paper. Shall I read it to you?
- PAROLLES. I do not know if it be it or no.
- BERTRAM. Our interpreter does it well.
- SECOND LORD. Excellently.
- FIRST SOLDIER. [Reads] 'Dian, the Count's a fool, and full of
- gold.'
- PAROLLES. That is not the Duke's letter, sir; that is an
- advertisement to a proper maid in Florence, one Diana, to take
- heed of the allurement of one Count Rousillon, a foolish idle
- boy, but for all that very ruttish. I pray you, sir, put it up
- again.
- FIRST SOLDIER. Nay, I'll read it first by your favour.
- PAROLLES. My meaning in't, I protest, was very honest in the behalf
- of the maid; for I knew the young Count to be a dangerous and
- lascivious boy, who is a whale to virginity, and devours up all
- the fry it finds.
- BERTRAM. Damnable both-sides rogue!
- FIRST SOLDIER. [Reads]
- 'When he swears oaths, bid him drop gold, and take it;
- After he scores, he never pays the score.
- Half won is match well made; match, and well make it;
- He ne'er pays after-debts, take it before.
- And say a soldier, Dian, told thee this:
- Men are to mell with, boys are not to kiss;
- For count of this, the Count's a fool, I know it,
- Who pays before, but not when he does owe it.
- Thine, as he vow'd to thee in thine ear,
- PAROLLES.'
- BERTRAM. He shall be whipt through the army with this rhyme in's
- forehead.
- FIRST LORD. This is your devoted friend, sir, the manifold
- linguist, and the amnipotent soldier.
- BERTRAM. I could endure anything before but a cat, and now he's a
- cat to me.
- FIRST SOLDIER. I perceive, sir, by our General's looks we shall be
- fain to hang you.
- PAROLLES. My life, sir, in any case! Not that I am afraid to die,
- but that, my offences being many, I would repent out the
- remainder of nature. Let me live, sir, in a dungeon, i' th'
- stocks, or anywhere, so I may live.
- FIRST SOLDIER. We'll see what may be done, so you confess freely;
- therefore, once more to this Captain Dumain: you have answer'd to
- his reputation with the Duke, and to his valour; what is his
- honesty?
- PAROLLES. He will steal, sir, an egg out of a cloister; for rapes
- and ravishments he parallels Nessus. He professes not keeping of
- oaths; in breaking 'em he is stronger than Hercules. He will lie,
- sir, with such volubility that you would think truth were a fool.
- Drunkenness is his best virtue, for he will be swine-drunk; and
- in his sleep he does little harm, save to his bedclothes about
- him; but they know his conditions and lay him in straw. I have
- but little more to say, sir, of his honesty. He has everything
- that an honest man should not have; what an honest man should
- have he has nothing.
- SECOND LORD. I begin to love him for this.
- BERTRAM. For this description of thine honesty? A pox upon him! For
- me, he's more and more a cat.
- FIRST SOLDIER. What say you to his expertness in war?
- PAROLLES. Faith, sir, has led the drum before the English
- tragedians-to belie him I will not-and more of his soldier-ship
- I know not, except in that country he had the honour to be the
- officer at a place there called Mile-end to instruct for the
- doubling of files-I would do the man what honour I can-but of
- this I am not certain.
- SECOND LORD. He hath out-villain'd villainy so far that the rarity
- redeems him.
- BERTRAM. A pox on him! he's a cat still.
- FIRST SOLDIER. His qualities being at this poor price, I need not
- to ask you if gold will corrupt him to revolt.
- PAROLLES. Sir, for a cardecue he will sell the fee-simple of his
- salvation, the inheritance of it; and cut th' entail from all
- remainders and a perpetual succession for it perpetually.
- FIRST SOLDIER. What's his brother, the other Captain Dumain?
- FIRST LORD. Why does he ask him of me?
- FIRST SOLDIER. What's he?
- PAROLLES. E'en a crow o' th' same nest; not altogether so great as
- the first in goodness, but greater a great deal in evil. He
- excels his brother for a coward; yet his brother is reputed one
- of the best that is. In a retreat he outruns any lackey: marry,
- in coming on he has the cramp.
- FIRST SOLDIER. If your life be saved, will you undertake to betray
- the Florentine?
- PAROLLES. Ay, and the Captain of his Horse, Count Rousillon.
- FIRST SOLDIER. I'll whisper with the General, and know his
- pleasure.
- PAROLLES. [Aside] I'll no more drumming. A plague of all drums!
- Only to seem to deserve well, and to beguile the supposition of
- that lascivious young boy the Count, have I run into this danger.
- Yet who would have suspected an ambush where I was taken?
- FIRST SOLDIER. There is no remedy, sir, but you must die.
- The General says you that have so traitorously discover'd the
- secrets of your army, and made such pestiferous reports of men
- very nobly held, can serve the world for no honest use; therefore
- you must die. Come, headsman, of with his head.
- PAROLLES. O Lord, sir, let me live, or let me see my death!
- FIRST SOLDIER. That shall you, and take your leave of all your
- friends. [Unmuffling him] So look about you; know you any here?
- BERTRAM. Good morrow, noble Captain.
- FIRST LORD. God bless you, Captain Parolles.
- SECOND LORD. God save you, noble Captain.
- FIRST LORD. Captain, what greeting will you to my Lord Lafeu? I am
- for France.
- SECOND LORD. Good Captain, will you give me a copy of the sonnet
- you writ to Diana in behalf of the Count Rousillon? An I were not
- a very coward I'd compel it of you; but fare you well.
- Exeunt BERTRAM and LORDS
- FIRST SOLDIER. You are undone, Captain, all but your scarf; that
- has a knot on 't yet.
- PAROLLES. Who cannot be crush'd with a plot?
- FIRST SOLDIER. If you could find out a country where but women were
- that had received so much shame, you might begin an impudent
- nation. Fare ye well, sir; I am for France too; we shall speak of
- you there. Exit with SOLDIERS
- PAROLLES. Yet am I thankful. If my heart were great,
- 'Twould burst at this. Captain I'll be no more;
- But I will eat, and drink, and sleep as soft
- As captain shall. Simply the thing I am
- Shall make me live. Who knows himself a braggart,
- Let him fear this; for it will come to pass
- That every braggart shall be found an ass.
- Rust, sword; cool, blushes; and, Parolles, live
- Safest in shame. Being fool'd, by fool'ry thrive.
- There's place and means for every man alive.
- I'll after them. Exit
-
-
-
-
-ACT IV SCENE 4.
-The WIDOW'S house
-
-Enter HELENA, WIDOW, and DIANA
-
- HELENA. That you may well perceive I have not wrong'd you!
- One of the greatest in the Christian world
- Shall be my surety; fore whose throne 'tis needful,
- Ere I can perfect mine intents, to kneel.
- Time was I did him a desired office,
- Dear almost as his life; which gratitude
- Through flinty Tartar's bosom would peep forth,
- And answer 'Thanks.' I duly am inform'd
- His Grace is at Marseilles, to which place
- We have convenient convoy. You must know
- I am supposed dead. The army breaking,
- My husband hies him home; where, heaven aiding,
- And by the leave of my good lord the King,
- We'll be before our welcome.
- WIDOW. Gentle madam,
- You never had a servant to whose trust
- Your business was more welcome.
- HELENA. Nor you, mistress,
- Ever a friend whose thoughts more truly labour
- To recompense your love. Doubt not but heaven
- Hath brought me up to be your daughter's dower,
- As it hath fated her to be my motive
- And helper to a husband. But, O strange men!
- That can such sweet use make of what they hate,
- When saucy trusting of the cozen'd thoughts
- Defiles the pitchy night. So lust doth play
- With what it loathes, for that which is away.
- But more of this hereafter. You, Diana,
- Under my poor instructions yet must suffer
- Something in my behalf.
- DIANA. Let death and honesty
- Go with your impositions, I am yours
- Upon your will to suffer.
- HELENA. Yet, I pray you:
- But with the word the time will bring on summer,
- When briers shall have leaves as well as thorns
- And be as sweet as sharp. We must away;
- Our waggon is prepar'd, and time revives us.
- All's Well that Ends Well. Still the fine's the crown.
- Whate'er the course, the end is the renown. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-ACT IV SCENE 5.
-Rousillon. The COUNT'S palace
-
-Enter COUNTESS, LAFEU, and CLOWN
-
- LAFEU. No, no, no, son was misled with a snipt-taffeta fellow
- there, whose villainous saffron would have made all the unbak'd
- and doughy youth of a nation in his colour. Your daughter-in-law
- had been alive at this hour, and your son here at home, more
- advanc'd by the King than by that red-tail'd humble-bee I speak
- of.
- COUNTESS. I would I had not known him. It was the death of the most
- virtuous gentlewoman that ever nature had praise for creating. If
- she had partaken of my flesh, and cost me the dearest groans of a
- mother. I could not have owed her a more rooted love.
- LAFEU. 'Twas a good lady, 'twas a good lady. We may pick a thousand
- sallets ere we light on such another herb.
- CLOWN. Indeed, sir, she was the sweet-marjoram of the sallet, or,
- rather, the herb of grace.
- LAFEU. They are not sallet-herbs, you knave; they are nose-herbs.
- CLOWN. I am no great Nebuchadnezzar, sir; I have not much skill in
- grass.
- LAFEU. Whether dost thou profess thyself-a knave or a fool?
- CLOWN. A fool, sir, at a woman's service, and a knave at a man's.
- LAFEU. Your distinction?
- CLOWN. I would cozen the man of his wife, and do his service.
- LAFEU. So you were a knave at his service, indeed.
- CLOWN. And I would give his wife my bauble, sir, to do her service.
- LAFEU. I will subscribe for thee; thou art both knave and fool.
- CLOWN. At your service.
- LAFEU. No, no, no.
- CLOWN. Why, sir, if I cannot serve you, I can serve as great a
- prince as you are.
- LAFEU. Who's that? A Frenchman?
- CLOWN. Faith, sir, 'a has an English name; but his fisnomy is more
- hotter in France than there.
- LAFEU. What prince is that?
- CLOWN. The Black Prince, sir; alias, the Prince of Darkness; alias,
- the devil.
- LAFEU. Hold thee, there's my purse. I give thee not this to suggest
- thee from thy master thou talk'st of; serve him still.
- CLOWN. I am a woodland fellow, sir, that always loved a great fire;
- and the master I speak of ever keeps a good fire. But, sure, he
- is the prince of the world; let his nobility remain in's court. I
- am for the house with the narrow gate, which I take to be too
- little for pomp to enter. Some that humble themselves may; but
- the many will be too chill and tender: and they'll be for the
- flow'ry way that leads to the broad gate and the great fire.
- LAFEU. Go thy ways, I begin to be aweary of thee; and I tell thee
- so before, because I would not fall out with thee. Go thy ways;
- let my horses be well look'd to, without any tricks.
- CLOWN. If I put any tricks upon 'em, sir, they shall be jades'
- tricks, which are their own right by the law of nature.
- Exit
- LAFEU. A shrewd knave, and an unhappy.
- COUNTESS. So 'a is. My lord that's gone made himself much sport
- out of him. By his authority he remains here, which he thinks is
- a patent for his sauciness; and indeed he has no pace, but runs
- where he will.
- LAFEU. I like him well; 'tis not amiss. And I was about to tell
- you, since I heard of the good lady's death, and that my lord
- your son was upon his return home, I moved the King my master to
- speak in the behalf of my daughter; which, in the minority of
- them both, his Majesty out of a self-gracious remembrance did
- first propose. His Highness hath promis'd me to do it; and, to
- stop up the displeasure he hath conceived against your son, there
- is no fitter matter. How does your ladyship like it?
- COUNTESS. With very much content, my lord; and I wish it happily
- effected.
- LAFEU. His Highness comes post from Marseilles, of as able body as
- when he number'd thirty; 'a will be here to-morrow, or I am
- deceiv'd by him that in such intelligence hath seldom fail'd.
- COUNTESS. It rejoices me that I hope I shall see him ere I die.
- I have letters that my son will be here to-night. I shall beseech
- your lordship to remain with me tal they meet together.
- LAFEU. Madam, I was thinking with what manners I might safely be
- admitted.
- COUNTESS. You need but plead your honourable privilege.
- LAFEU. Lady, of that I have made a bold charter; but, I thank my
- God, it holds yet.
-
- Re-enter CLOWN
-
- CLOWN. O madam, yonder's my lord your son with a patch of velvet
- on's face; whether there be a scar under 't or no, the velvet
- knows; but 'tis a goodly patch of velvet. His left cheek is a
- cheek of two pile and a half, but his right cheek is worn bare.
- LAFEU. A scar nobly got, or a noble scar, is a good liv'ry of
- honour; so belike is that.
- CLOWN. But it is your carbonado'd face.
- LAFEU. Let us go see your son, I pray you;
- I long to talk with the young noble soldier.
- CLOWN. Faith, there's a dozen of 'em, with delicate fine hats, and
- most courteous feathers, which bow the head and nod at every man.
- Exeunt
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-
-ACT V. SCENE 1.
-Marseilles. A street
-
-Enter HELENA, WIDOW, and DIANA, with two ATTENDANTS
-
- HELENA. But this exceeding posting day and night
- Must wear your spirits low; we cannot help it.
- But since you have made the days and nights as one,
- To wear your gentle limbs in my affairs,
- Be bold you do so grow in my requital
- As nothing can unroot you.
-
- Enter a GENTLEMAN
-
- In happy time!
- This man may help me to his Majesty's ear,
- If he would spend his power. God save you, sir.
- GENTLEMAN. And you.
- HELENA. Sir, I have seen you in the court of France.
- GENTLEMAN. I have been sometimes there.
- HELENA. I do presume, sir, that you are not fall'n
- From the report that goes upon your goodness;
- And therefore, goaded with most sharp occasions,
- Which lay nice manners by, I put you to
- The use of your own virtues, for the which
- I shall continue thankful.
- GENTLEMAN. What's your will?
- HELENA. That it will please you
- To give this poor petition to the King;
- And aid me with that store of power you have
- To come into his presence.
- GENTLEMAN. The King's not here.
- HELENA. Not here, sir?
- GENTLEMAN. Not indeed.
- He hence remov'd last night, and with more haste
- Than is his use.
- WIDOW. Lord, how we lose our pains!
- HELENA. All's Well That Ends Well yet,
- Though time seem so adverse and means unfit.
- I do beseech you, whither is he gone?
- GENTLEMAN. Marry, as I take it, to Rousillon;
- Whither I am going.
- HELENA. I do beseech you, sir,
- Since you are like to see the King before me,
- Commend the paper to his gracious hand;
- Which I presume shall render you no blame,
- But rather make you thank your pains for it.
- I will come after you with what good speed
- Our means will make us means.
- GENTLEMAN. This I'll do for you.
- HELENA. And you shall find yourself to be well thank'd,
- Whate'er falls more. We must to horse again;
- Go, go, provide. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-ACT V SCENE 2.
-Rousillon. The inner court of the COUNT'S palace
-
-Enter CLOWN and PAROLLES
-
- PAROLLES. Good Monsieur Lavache, give my Lord Lafeu this letter. I
- have ere now, sir, been better known to you, when I have held
- familiarity with fresher clothes; but I am now, sir, muddied in
- Fortune's mood, and smell somewhat strong of her strong
- displeasure.
- CLOWN. Truly, Fortune's displeasure is but sluttish, if it smell
- so strongly as thou speak'st of. I will henceforth eat no fish
- of Fortune's butt'ring. Prithee, allow the wind.
- PAROLLES. Nay, you need not to stop your nose, sir; I spake but by
- a metaphor.
- CLOWN. Indeed, sir, if your metaphor stink, I will stop my nose; or
- against any man's metaphor. Prithee, get thee further.
- PAROLLES. Pray you, sir, deliver me this paper.
- CLOWN. Foh! prithee stand away. A paper from Fortune's close-stool
- to give to a nobleman! Look here he comes himself.
-
- Enter LAFEU
-
- Here is a pur of Fortune's, sir, or of Fortune's cat, but not
- a musk-cat, that has fall'n into the unclean fishpond of her
- displeasure, and, as he says, is muddied withal. Pray you, sir,
- use the carp as you may; for he looks like a poor, decayed,
- ingenious, foolish, rascally knave. I do pity his distress
- in my similes of comfort, and leave him to your lordship.
- Exit
- PAROLLES. My lord, I am a man whom Fortune hath cruelly scratch'd.
- LAFEU. And what would you have me to do? 'Tis too late to pare her
- nails now. Wherein have you played the knave with Fortune, that
- she should scratch you, who of herself is a good lady and would
- not have knaves thrive long under her? There's a cardecue for
- you. Let the justices make you and Fortune friends; I am for
- other business.
- PAROLLES. I beseech your honour to hear me one single word.
- LAFEU. You beg a single penny more; come, you shall ha't; save your
- word.
- PAROLLES. My name, my good lord, is Parolles.
- LAFEU. You beg more than word then. Cox my passion! give me your
- hand. How does your drum?
- PAROLLES. O my good lord, you were the first that found me.
- LAFEU. Was I, in sooth? And I was the first that lost thee.
- PAROLLES. It lies in you, my lord, to bring me in some grace, for
- you did bring me out.
- LAFEU. Out upon thee, knave! Dost thou put upon me at once both the
- office of God and the devil? One brings the in grace, and the
- other brings thee out. [Trumpets sound] The King's coming; I
- know by his trumpets. Sirrah, inquire further after me; I had
- talk of you last night. Though you are a fool and a knave, you
- shall eat. Go to; follow.
- PAROLLES. I praise God for you. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-ACT V SCENE 3.
-Rousillon. The COUNT'S palace
-
-Flourish. Enter KING, COUNTESS, LAFEU, the two FRENCH LORDS, with ATTENDANTS
-
- KING. We lost a jewel of her, and our esteem
- Was made much poorer by it; but your son,
- As mad in folly, lack'd the sense to know
- Her estimation home.
- COUNTESS. 'Tis past, my liege;
- And I beseech your Majesty to make it
- Natural rebellion, done i' th' blaze of youth,
- When oil and fire, too strong for reason's force,
- O'erbears it and burns on.
- KING. My honour'd lady,
- I have forgiven and forgotten all;
- Though my revenges were high bent upon him
- And watch'd the time to shoot.
- LAFEU. This I must say-
- But first, I beg my pardon: the young lord
- Did to his Majesty, his mother, and his lady,
- Offence of mighty note; but to himself
- The greatest wrong of all. He lost a wife
- Whose beauty did astonish the survey
- Of richest eyes; whose words all ears took captive;
- Whose dear perfection hearts that scorn'd to serve
- Humbly call'd mistress.
- KING. Praising what is lost
- Makes the remembrance dear. Well, call him hither;
- We are reconcil'd, and the first view shall kill
- All repetition. Let him not ask our pardon;
- The nature of his great offence is dead,
- And deeper than oblivion do we bury
- Th' incensing relics of it; let him approach,
- A stranger, no offender; and inform him
- So 'tis our will he should.
- GENTLEMAN. I shall, my liege. Exit GENTLEMAN
- KING. What says he to your daughter? Have you spoke?
- LAFEU. All that he is hath reference to your Highness.
- KING. Then shall we have a match. I have letters sent me
- That sets him high in fame.
-
- Enter BERTRAM
-
- LAFEU. He looks well on 't.
- KING. I am not a day of season,
- For thou mayst see a sunshine and a hail
- In me at once. But to the brightest beams
- Distracted clouds give way; so stand thou forth;
- The time is fair again.
- BERTRAM. My high-repented blames,
- Dear sovereign, pardon to me.
- KING. All is whole;
- Not one word more of the consumed time.
- Let's take the instant by the forward top;
- For we are old, and on our quick'st decrees
- Th' inaudible and noiseless foot of Time
- Steals ere we can effect them. You remember
- The daughter of this lord?
- BERTRAM. Admiringly, my liege. At first
- I stuck my choice upon her, ere my heart
- Durst make too bold herald of my tongue;
- Where the impression of mine eye infixing,
- Contempt his scornful perspective did lend me,
- Which warp'd the line of every other favour,
- Scorn'd a fair colour or express'd it stol'n,
- Extended or contracted all proportions
- To a most hideous object. Thence it came
- That she whom all men prais'd, and whom myself,
- Since I have lost, have lov'd, was in mine eye
- The dust that did offend it.
- KING. Well excus'd.
- That thou didst love her, strikes some scores away
- From the great compt; but love that comes too late,
- Like a remorseful pardon slowly carried,
- To the great sender turns a sour offence,
- Crying 'That's good that's gone.' Our rash faults
- Make trivial price of serious things we have,
- Not knowing them until we know their grave.
- Oft our displeasures, to ourselves unjust,
- Destroy our friends, and after weep their dust;
- Our own love waking cries to see what's done,
- While shameful hate sleeps out the afternoon.
- Be this sweet Helen's knell. And now forget her.
- Send forth your amorous token for fair Maudlin.
- The main consents are had; and here we'll stay
- To see our widower's second marriage-day.
- COUNTESS. Which better than the first, O dear heaven, bless!
- Or, ere they meet, in me, O nature, cesse!
- LAFEU. Come on, my son, in whom my house's name
- Must be digested; give a favour from you,
- To sparkle in the spirits of my daughter,
- That she may quickly come.
- [BERTRAM gives a ring]
- By my old beard,
- And ev'ry hair that's on 't, Helen, that's dead,
- Was a sweet creature; such a ring as this,
- The last that e'er I took her leave at court,
- I saw upon her finger.
- BERTRAM. Hers it was not.
- KING. Now, pray you, let me see it; for mine eye,
- While I was speaking, oft was fasten'd to't.
- This ring was mine; and when I gave it Helen
- I bade her, if her fortunes ever stood
- Necessitied to help, that by this token
- I would relieve her. Had you that craft to reave her
- Of what should stead her most?
- BERTRAM. My gracious sovereign,
- Howe'er it pleases you to take it so,
- The ring was never hers.
- COUNTESS. Son, on my life,
- I have seen her wear it; and she reckon'd it
- At her life's rate.
- LAFEU. I am sure I saw her wear it.
- BERTRAM. You are deceiv'd, my lord; she never saw it.
- In Florence was it from a casement thrown me,
- Wrapp'd in a paper, which contain'd the name
- Of her that threw it. Noble she was, and thought
- I stood engag'd; but when I had subscrib'd
- To mine own fortune, and inform'd her fully
- I could not answer in that course of honour
- As she had made the overture, she ceas'd,
- In heavy satisfaction, and would never
- Receive the ring again.
- KING. Plutus himself,
- That knows the tinct and multiplying med'cine,
- Hath not in nature's mystery more science
- Than I have in this ring. 'Twas mine, 'twas Helen's,
- Whoever gave it you. Then, if you know
- That you are well acquainted with yourself,
- Confess 'twas hers, and by what rough enforcement
- You got it from her. She call'd the saints to surety
- That she would never put it from her finger
- Unless she gave it to yourself in bed-
- Where you have never come- or sent it us
- Upon her great disaster.
- BERTRAM. She never saw it.
- KING. Thou speak'st it falsely, as I love mine honour;
- And mak'st conjectural fears to come into me
- Which I would fain shut out. If it should prove
- That thou art so inhuman- 'twill not prove so.
- And yet I know not- thou didst hate her deadly,
- And she is dead; which nothing, but to close
- Her eyes myself, could win me to believe
- More than to see this ring. Take him away.
- [GUARDS seize BERTRAM]
- My fore-past proofs, howe'er the matter fall,
- Shall tax my fears of little vanity,
- Having vainly fear'd too little. Away with him.
- We'll sift this matter further.
- BERTRAM. If you shall prove
- This ring was ever hers, you shall as easy
- Prove that I husbanded her bed in Florence,
- Where she yet never was. Exit, guarded
- KING. I am wrapp'd in dismal thinkings.
-
- Enter a GENTLEMAN
-
- GENTLEMAN. Gracious sovereign,
- Whether I have been to blame or no, I know not:
- Here's a petition from a Florentine,
- Who hath, for four or five removes, come short
- To tender it herself. I undertook it,
- Vanquish'd thereto by the fair grace and speech
- Of the poor suppliant, who by this, I know,
- Is here attending; her business looks in her
- With an importing visage; and she told me
- In a sweet verbal brief it did concern
- Your Highness with herself.
- KING. [Reads the letter] 'Upon his many protestations to marry me
- when his wife was dead, I blush to say it, he won me. Now is the
- Count Rousillon a widower; his vows are forfeited to me, and my
- honour's paid to him. He stole from Florence, taking no leave,
- and I follow him to his country for justice. Grant it me, O King!
- in you it best lies; otherwise a seducer flourishes, and a poor
- maid is undone.
- DIANA CAPILET.'
- LAFEU. I will buy me a son-in-law in a fair, and toll for this.
- I'll none of him.
- KING. The heavens have thought well on thee, Lafeu,
- To bring forth this discov'ry. Seek these suitors.
- Go speedily, and bring again the Count.
- Exeunt ATTENDANTS
- I am afeard the life of Helen, lady,
- Was foully snatch'd.
- COUNTESS. Now, justice on the doers!
-
- Enter BERTRAM, guarded
-
- KING. I wonder, sir, sith wives are monsters to you.
- And that you fly them as you swear them lordship,
- Yet you desire to marry.
- Enter WIDOW and DIANA
- What woman's that?
- DIANA. I am, my lord, a wretched Florentine,
- Derived from the ancient Capilet.
- My suit, as I do understand, you know,
- And therefore know how far I may be pitied.
- WIDOW. I am her mother, sir, whose age and honour
- Both suffer under this complaint we bring,
- And both shall cease, without your remedy.
- KING. Come hither, Count; do you know these women?
- BERTRAM. My lord, I neither can nor will deny
- But that I know them. Do they charge me further?
- DIANA. Why do you look so strange upon your wife?
- BERTRAM. She's none of mine, my lord.
- DIANA. If you shall marry,
- You give away this hand, and that is mine;
- You give away heaven's vows, and those are mine;
- You give away myself, which is known mine;
- For I by vow am so embodied yours
- That she which marries you must marry me,
- Either both or none.
- LAFEU. [To BERTRAM] Your reputation comes too short for
- my daughter; you are no husband for her.
- BERTRAM. My lord, this is a fond and desp'rate creature
- Whom sometime I have laugh'd with. Let your Highness
- Lay a more noble thought upon mine honour
- Than for to think that I would sink it here.
- KING. Sir, for my thoughts, you have them ill to friend
- Till your deeds gain them. Fairer prove your honour
- Than in my thought it lies!
- DIANA. Good my lord,
- Ask him upon his oath if he does think
- He had not my virginity.
- KING. What say'st thou to her?
- BERTRAM. She's impudent, my lord,
- And was a common gamester to the camp.
- DIANA. He does me wrong, my lord; if I were so
- He might have bought me at a common price.
- Do not believe him. o, behold this ring,
- Whose high respect and rich validity
- Did lack a parallel; yet, for all that,
- He gave it to a commoner o' th' camp,
- If I be one.
- COUNTESS. He blushes, and 'tis it.
- Of six preceding ancestors, that gem
- Conferr'd by testament to th' sequent issue,
- Hath it been ow'd and worn. This is his wife:
- That ring's a thousand proofs.
- KING. Methought you said
- You saw one here in court could witness it.
- DIANA. I did, my lord, but loath am to produce
- So bad an instrument; his name's Parolles.
- LAFEU. I saw the man to-day, if man he be.
- KING. Find him, and bring him hither. Exit an ATTENDANT
- BERTRAM. What of him?
- He's quoted for a most perfidious slave,
- With all the spots o' th' world tax'd and debauch'd,
- Whose nature sickens but to speak a truth.
- Am I or that or this for what he'll utter
- That will speak anything?
- KING. She hath that ring of yours.
- BERTRAM. I think she has. Certain it is I lik'd her,
- And boarded her i' th' wanton way of youth.
- She knew her distance, and did angle for me,
- Madding my eagerness with her restraint,
- As all impediments in fancy's course
- Are motives of more fancy; and, in fine,
- Her infinite cunning with her modern grace
- Subdu'd me to her rate. She got the ring;
- And I had that which any inferior might
- At market-price have bought.
- DIANA. I must be patient.
- You that have turn'd off a first so noble wife
- May justly diet me. I pray you yet-
- Since you lack virtue, I will lose a husband-
- Send for your ring, I will return it home,
- And give me mine again.
- BERTRAM. I have it not.
- KING. What ring was yours, I pray you?
- DIANA. Sir, much like
- The same upon your finger.
- KING. Know you this ring? This ring was his of late.
- DIANA. And this was it I gave him, being abed.
- KING. The story, then, goes false you threw it him
- Out of a casement.
- DIANA. I have spoke the truth.
-
- Enter PAROLLES
-
- BERTRAM. My lord, I do confess the ring was hers.
- KING. You boggle shrewdly; every feather starts you.
- Is this the man you speak of?
- DIANA. Ay, my lord.
- KING. Tell me, sirrah-but tell me true I charge you,
- Not fearing the displeasure of your master,
- Which, on your just proceeding, I'll keep off-
- By him and by this woman here what know you?
- PAROLLES. So please your Majesty, my master hath been an honourable
- gentleman; tricks he hath had in him, which gentlemen have.
- KING. Come, come, to th' purpose. Did he love this woman?
- PAROLLES. Faith, sir, he did love her; but how?
- KING. How, I pray you?
- PAROLLES. He did love her, sir, as a gentleman loves a woman.
- KING. How is that?
- PAROLLES. He lov'd her, sir, and lov'd her not.
- KING. As thou art a knave and no knave.
- What an equivocal companion is this!
- PAROLLES. I am a poor man, and at your Majesty's command.
- LAFEU. He's a good drum, my lord, but a naughty orator.
- DIANA. Do you know he promis'd me marriage?
- PAROLLES. Faith, I know more than I'll speak.
- KING. But wilt thou not speak all thou know'st?
- PAROLLES. Yes, so please your Majesty. I did go between them, as I
- said; but more than that, he loved her-for indeed he was mad for
- her, and talk'd of Satan, and of Limbo, and of Furies, and I know
- not what. Yet I was in that credit with them at that time that I
- knew of their going to bed; and of other motions, as promising
- her marriage, and things which would derive me ill will to speak
- of; therefore I will not speak what I know.
- KING. Thou hast spoken all already, unless thou canst say they are
- married; but thou art too fine in thy evidence; therefore stand
- aside.
- This ring, you say, was yours?
- DIANA. Ay, my good lord.
- KING. Where did you buy it? Or who gave it you?
- DIANA. It was not given me, nor I did not buy it.
- KING. Who lent it you?
- DIANA. It was not lent me neither.
- KING. Where did you find it then?
- DIANA. I found it not.
- KING. If it were yours by none of all these ways,
- How could you give it him?
- DIANA. I never gave it him.
- LAFEU. This woman's an easy glove, my lord; she goes of and on at
- pleasure.
- KING. This ring was mine, I gave it his first wife.
- DIANA. It might be yours or hers, for aught I know.
- KING. Take her away, I do not like her now;
- To prison with her. And away with him.
- Unless thou tell'st me where thou hadst this ring,
- Thou diest within this hour.
- DIANA. I'll never tell you.
- KING. Take her away.
- DIANA. I'll put in bail, my liege.
- KING. I think thee now some common customer.
- DIANA. By Jove, if ever I knew man, 'twas you.
- KING. Wherefore hast thou accus'd him all this while?
- DIANA. Because he's guilty, and he is not guilty.
- He knows I am no maid, and he'll swear to't:
- I'll swear I am a maid, and he knows not.
- Great King, I am no strumpet, by my life;
- I am either maid, or else this old man's wife.
- [Pointing to LAFEU]
- KING. She does abuse our ears; to prison with her.
- DIANA. Good mother, fetch my bail. Stay, royal sir;
- Exit WIDOW
- The jeweller that owes the ring is sent for,
- And he shall surety me. But for this lord
- Who hath abus'd me as he knows himself,
- Though yet he never harm'd me, here I quit him.
- He knows himself my bed he hath defil'd;
- And at that time he got his wife with child.
- Dead though she be, she feels her young one kick;
- So there's my riddle: one that's dead is quick-
- And now behold the meaning.
-
- Re-enter WIDOW with HELENA
-
- KING. Is there no exorcist
- Beguiles the truer office of mine eyes?
- Is't real that I see?
- HELENA. No, my good lord;
- 'Tis but the shadow of a wife you see,
- The name and not the thing.
- BERTRAM. Both, both; o, pardon!
- HELENA. O, my good lord, when I was like this maid,
- I found you wondrous kind. There is your ring,
- And, look you, here's your letter. This it says:
- 'When from my finger you can get this ring,
- And are by me with child,' etc. This is done.
- Will you be mine now you are doubly won?
- BERTRAM. If she, my liege, can make me know this clearly,
- I'll love her dearly, ever, ever dearly.
- HELENA. If it appear not plain, and prove untrue,
- Deadly divorce step between me and you!
- O my dear mother, do I see you living?
- LAFEU. Mine eyes smell onions; I shall weep anon. [To PAROLLES]
- Good Tom Drum, lend me a handkercher. So, I
- thank thee. Wait on me home, I'll make sport with thee;
- let thy curtsies alone, they are scurvy ones.
- KING. Let us from point to point this story know,
- To make the even truth in pleasure flow.
- [To DIANA] If thou beest yet a fresh uncropped flower,
- Choose thou thy husband, and I'll pay thy dower;
- For I can guess that by thy honest aid
- Thou kept'st a wife herself, thyself a maid.-
- Of that and all the progress, more and less,
- Resolvedly more leisure shall express.
- All yet seems well; and if it end so meet,
- The bitter past, more welcome is the sweet. [Flourish]
-
-EPILOGUE
- EPILOGUE.
-
- KING. The King's a beggar, now the play is done.
- All is well ended if this suit be won,
- That you express content; which we will pay
- With strife to please you, day exceeding day.
- Ours be your patience then, and yours our parts;
- Your gentle hands lend us, and take our hearts.
- Exeunt omnes
-
-
-THE END
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-
-
-1607
-
-THE TRAGEDY OF ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
-
-by William Shakespeare
-
-
-
-DRAMATIS PERSONAE
-
- MARK ANTONY, Triumvirs
- OCTAVIUS CAESAR, "
- M. AEMILIUS LEPIDUS, "
- SEXTUS POMPEIUS, "
- DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS, friend to Antony
- VENTIDIUS, " " "
- EROS, " " "
- SCARUS, " " "
- DERCETAS, " " "
- DEMETRIUS, " " "
- PHILO, " " "
- MAECENAS, friend to Caesar
- AGRIPPA, " " "
- DOLABELLA, " " "
- PROCULEIUS, " " "
- THYREUS, " " "
- GALLUS, " " "
- MENAS, friend to Pompey
- MENECRATES, " " "
- VARRIUS, " " "
- TAURUS, Lieutenant-General to Caesar
- CANIDIUS, Lieutenant-General to Antony
- SILIUS, an Officer in Ventidius's army
- EUPHRONIUS, an Ambassador from Antony to Caesar
- ALEXAS, attendant on Cleopatra
- MARDIAN, " " "
- SELEUCUS, " " "
- DIOMEDES, " " "
- A SOOTHSAYER
- A CLOWN
-
- CLEOPATRA, Queen of Egypt
- OCTAVIA, sister to Caesar and wife to Antony
- CHARMIAN, lady attending on Cleopatra
- IRAS, " " " "
-
-
-
- Officers, Soldiers, Messengers, and Attendants
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-
-SCENE:
-The Roman Empire
-
-ACT I. SCENE I.
-Alexandria. CLEOPATRA'S palace
-
-Enter DEMETRIUS and PHILO
-
- PHILO. Nay, but this dotage of our general's
- O'erflows the measure. Those his goodly eyes,
- That o'er the files and musters of the war
- Have glow'd like plated Mars, now bend, now turn,
- The office and devotion of their view
- Upon a tawny front. His captain's heart,
- Which in the scuffles of great fights hath burst
- The buckles on his breast, reneges all temper,
- And is become the bellows and the fan
- To cool a gipsy's lust.
-
- Flourish. Enter ANTONY, CLEOPATRA, her LADIES, the train,
- with eunuchs fanning her
-
- Look where they come!
- Take but good note, and you shall see in him
- The triple pillar of the world transform'd
- Into a strumpet's fool. Behold and see.
- CLEOPATRA. If it be love indeed, tell me how much.
- ANTONY. There's beggary in the love that can be reckon'd.
- CLEOPATRA. I'll set a bourn how far to be belov'd.
- ANTONY. Then must thou needs find out new heaven, new earth.
-
- Enter a MESSENGER
-
- MESSENGER. News, my good lord, from Rome.
- ANTONY. Grates me the sum.
- CLEOPATRA. Nay, hear them, Antony.
- Fulvia perchance is angry; or who knows
- If the scarce-bearded Caesar have not sent
- His pow'rful mandate to you: 'Do this or this;
- Take in that kingdom and enfranchise that;
- Perform't, or else we damn thee.'
- ANTONY. How, my love?
- CLEOPATRA. Perchance? Nay, and most like,
- You must not stay here longer; your dismission
- Is come from Caesar; therefore hear it, Antony.
- Where's Fulvia's process? Caesar's I would say? Both?
- Call in the messengers. As I am Egypt's Queen,
- Thou blushest, Antony, and that blood of thine
- Is Caesar's homager. Else so thy cheek pays shame
- When shrill-tongu'd Fulvia scolds. The messengers!
- ANTONY. Let Rome in Tiber melt, and the wide arch
- Of the rang'd empire fall! Here is my space.
- Kingdoms are clay; our dungy earth alike
- Feeds beast as man. The nobleness of life
- Is to do thus [emhracing], when such a mutual pair
- And such a twain can do't, in which I bind,
- On pain of punishment, the world to weet
- We stand up peerless.
- CLEOPATRA. Excellent falsehood!
- Why did he marry Fulvia, and not love her?
- I'll seem the fool I am not. Antony
- Will be himself.
- ANTONY. But stirr'd by Cleopatra.
- Now for the love of Love and her soft hours,
- Let's not confound the time with conference harsh;
- There's not a minute of our lives should stretch
- Without some pleasure now. What sport to-night?
- CLEOPATRA. Hear the ambassadors.
- ANTONY. Fie, wrangling queen!
- Whom everything becomes- to chide, to laugh,
- To weep; whose every passion fully strives
- To make itself in thee fair and admir'd.
- No messenger but thine, and all alone
- To-night we'll wander through the streets and note
- The qualities of people. Come, my queen;
- Last night you did desire it. Speak not to us.
- Exeunt ANTONY and CLEOPATRA, with the train
- DEMETRIUS. Is Caesar with Antonius priz'd so slight?
- PHILO. Sir, sometimes when he is not Antony,
- He comes too short of that great property
- Which still should go with Antony.
- DEMETRIUS. I am full sorry
- That he approves the common liar, who
- Thus speaks of him at Rome; but I will hope
- Of better deeds to-morrow. Rest you happy! Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-Alexandria. CLEOPATRA'S palace
-
-Enter CHARMIAN, IRAS, ALEXAS, and a SOOTHSAYER
-
- CHARMIAN. Lord Alexas, sweet Alexas, most anything Alexas, almost
- most absolute Alexas, where's the soothsayer that you prais'd so
- to th' Queen? O that I knew this husband, which you say must
- charge his horns with garlands!
- ALEXAS. Soothsayer!
- SOOTHSAYER. Your will?
- CHARMIAN. Is this the man? Is't you, sir, that know things?
- SOOTHSAYER. In nature's infinite book of secrecy
- A little I can read.
- ALEXAS. Show him your hand.
-
- Enter ENOBARBUS
-
- ENOBARBUS. Bring in the banquet quickly; wine enough
- Cleopatra's health to drink.
- CHARMIAN. Good, sir, give me good fortune.
- SOOTHSAYER. I make not, but foresee.
- CHARMIAN. Pray, then, foresee me one.
- SOOTHSAYER. You shall be yet far fairer than you are.
- CHARMIAN. He means in flesh.
- IRAS. No, you shall paint when you are old.
- CHARMIAN. Wrinkles forbid!
- ALEXAS. Vex not his prescience; be attentive.
- CHARMIAN. Hush!
- SOOTHSAYER. You shall be more beloving than beloved.
- CHARMIAN. I had rather heat my liver with drinking.
- ALEXAS. Nay, hear him.
- CHARMIAN. Good now, some excellent fortune! Let me be married to
- three kings in a forenoon, and widow them all. Let me have a
- child at fifty, to whom Herod of Jewry may do homage. Find me to
- marry me with Octavius Caesar, and companion me with my mistress.
- SOOTHSAYER. You shall outlive the lady whom you serve.
- CHARMIAN. O, excellent! I love long life better than figs.
- SOOTHSAYER. You have seen and prov'd a fairer former fortune
- Than that which is to approach.
- CHARMIAN. Then belike my children shall have no names.
- Prithee, how many boys and wenches must I have?
- SOOTHSAYER. If every of your wishes had a womb,
- And fertile every wish, a million.
- CHARMIAN. Out, fool! I forgive thee for a witch.
- ALEXAS. You think none but your sheets are privy to your wishes.
- CHARMIAN. Nay, come, tell Iras hers.
- ALEXAS. We'll know all our fortunes.
- ENOBARBUS. Mine, and most of our fortunes, to-night, shall be-
- drunk to bed.
- IRAS. There's a palm presages chastity, if nothing else.
- CHARMIAN. E'en as the o'erflowing Nilus presageth famine.
- IRAS. Go, you wild bedfellow, you cannot soothsay.
- CHARMIAN. Nay, if an oily palm be not a fruitful prognostication, I
- cannot scratch mine ear. Prithee, tell her but worky-day fortune.
- SOOTHSAYER. Your fortunes are alike.
- IRAS. But how, but how? Give me particulars.
- SOOTHSAYER. I have said.
- IRAS. Am I not an inch of fortune better than she?
- CHARMIAN. Well, if you were but an inch of fortune better than I,
- where would you choose it?
- IRAS. Not in my husband's nose.
- CHARMIAN. Our worser thoughts heavens mend! Alexas- come, his
- fortune, his fortune! O, let him marry a woman that cannot go,
- sweet Isis, I beseech thee! And let her die too, and give him a
- worse! And let worse follow worse, till the worst of all follow
- him laughing to his grave, fiftyfold a cuckold! Good Isis, hear
- me this prayer, though thou deny me a matter of more weight; good
- Isis, I beseech thee!
- IRAS. Amen. Dear goddess, hear that prayer of the people! For, as
- it is a heartbreaking to see a handsome man loose-wiv'd, so it is
- a deadly sorrow to behold a foul knave uncuckolded. Therefore,
- dear Isis, keep decorum, and fortune him accordingly!
- CHARMIAN. Amen.
- ALEXAS. Lo now, if it lay in their hands to make me a cuckold, they
- would make themselves whores but they'ld do't!
-
- Enter CLEOPATRA
-
- ENOBARBUS. Hush! Here comes Antony.
- CHARMIAN. Not he; the Queen.
- CLEOPATRA. Saw you my lord?
- ENOBARBUS. No, lady.
- CLEOPATRA. Was he not here?
- CHARMIAN. No, madam.
- CLEOPATRA. He was dispos'd to mirth; but on the sudden
- A Roman thought hath struck him. Enobarbus!
- ENOBARBUS. Madam?
- CLEOPATRA. Seek him, and bring him hither. Where's Alexas?
- ALEXAS. Here, at your service. My lord approaches.
-
- Enter ANTONY, with a MESSENGER and attendants
-
- CLEOPATRA. We will not look upon him. Go with us.
- Exeunt CLEOPATRA, ENOBARBUS, and the rest
- MESSENGER. Fulvia thy wife first came into the field.
- ANTONY. Against my brother Lucius?
- MESSENGER. Ay.
- But soon that war had end, and the time's state
- Made friends of them, jointing their force 'gainst Caesar,
- Whose better issue in the war from Italy
- Upon the first encounter drave them.
- ANTONY. Well, what worst?
- MESSENGER. The nature of bad news infects the teller.
- ANTONY. When it concerns the fool or coward. On!
- Things that are past are done with me. 'Tis thus:
- Who tells me true, though in his tale lie death,
- I hear him as he flatter'd.
- MESSENGER. Labienus-
- This is stiff news- hath with his Parthian force
- Extended Asia from Euphrates,
- His conquering banner shook from Syria
- To Lydia and to Ionia,
- Whilst-
- ANTONY. Antony, thou wouldst say.
- MESSENGER. O, my lord!
- ANTONY. Speak to me home; mince not the general tongue;
- Name Cleopatra as she is call'd in Rome.
- Rail thou in Fulvia's phrase, and taunt my faults
- With such full licence as both truth and malice
- Have power to utter. O, then we bring forth weeds
- When our quick minds lie still, and our ills told us
- Is as our earing. Fare thee well awhile.
- MESSENGER. At your noble pleasure. Exit
- ANTONY. From Sicyon, ho, the news! Speak there!
- FIRST ATTENDANT. The man from Sicyon- is there such an one?
- SECOND ATTENDANT. He stays upon your will.
- ANTONY. Let him appear.
- These strong Egyptian fetters I must break,
- Or lose myself in dotage.
-
- Enter another MESSENGER with a letter
-
- What are you?
- SECOND MESSENGER. Fulvia thy wife is dead.
- ANTONY. Where died she?
- SECOND MESSENGER. In Sicyon.
- Her length of sickness, with what else more serious
- Importeth thee to know, this bears. [Gives the letter]
- ANTONY. Forbear me. Exit MESSENGER
- There's a great spirit gone! Thus did I desire it.
- What our contempts doth often hurl from us
- We wish it ours again; the present pleasure,
- By revolution low'ring, does become
- The opposite of itself. She's good, being gone;
- The hand could pluck her back that shov'd her on.
- I must from this enchanting queen break off.
- Ten thousand harms, more than the ills I know,
- My idleness doth hatch. How now, Enobarbus!
-
- Re-enter ENOBARBUS
-
- ENOBARBUS. What's your pleasure, sir?
- ANTONY. I must with haste from hence.
- ENOBARBUS. Why, then we kill all our women. We see how mortal an
- unkindness is to them; if they suffer our departure, death's the
- word.
- ANTONY. I must be gone.
- ENOBARBUS. Under a compelling occasion, let women die. It were pity
- to cast them away for nothing, though between them and a great
- cause they should be esteemed nothing. Cleopatra, catching but
- the least noise of this, dies instantly; I have seen her die
- twenty times upon far poorer moment. I do think there is mettle
- in death, which commits some loving act upon her, she hath such a
- celerity in dying.
- ANTONY. She is cunning past man's thought.
- ENOBARBUS. Alack, sir, no! Her passions are made of nothing but the
- finest part of pure love. We cannot call her winds and waters
- sighs and tears; they are greater storms and tempests than
- almanacs can report. This cannot be cunning in her; if it be, she
- makes a show'r of rain as well as Jove.
- ANTONY. Would I had never seen her!
- ENOBARBUS. O Sir, you had then left unseen a wonderful piece of
- work, which not to have been blest withal would have discredited
- your travel.
- ANTONY. Fulvia is dead.
- ENOBARBUS. Sir?
- ANTONY. Fulvia is dead.
- ENOBARBUS. Fulvia?
- ANTONY. Dead.
- ENOBARBUS. Why, sir, give the gods a thankful sacrifice. When it
- pleaseth their deities to take the wife of a man from him, it
- shows to man the tailors of the earth; comforting therein that
- when old robes are worn out there are members to make new. If
- there were no more women but Fulvia, then had you indeed a cut,
- and the case to be lamented. This grief is crown'd with
- consolation: your old smock brings forth a new petticoat; and
- indeed the tears live in an onion that should water this sorrow.
- ANTONY. The business she hath broached in the state
- Cannot endure my absence.
- ENOBARBUS. And the business you have broach'd here cannot be
- without you; especially that of Cleopatra's, which wholly depends
- on your abode.
- ANTONY. No more light answers. Let our officers
- Have notice what we purpose. I shall break
- The cause of our expedience to the Queen,
- And get her leave to part. For not alone
- The death of Fulvia, with more urgent touches,
- Do strongly speak to us; but the letters to
- Of many our contriving friends in Rome
- Petition us at home. Sextus Pompeius
- Hath given the dare to Caesar, and commands
- The empire of the sea; our slippery people,
- Whose love is never link'd to the deserver
- Till his deserts are past, begin to throw
- Pompey the Great and all his dignities
- Upon his son; who, high in name and power,
- Higher than both in blood and life, stands up
- For the main soldier; whose quality, going on,
- The sides o' th' world may danger. Much is breeding
- Which, like the courser's hair, hath yet but life
- And not a serpent's poison. Say our pleasure,
- To such whose place is under us, requires
- Our quick remove from hence.
- ENOBARBUS. I shall do't. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-Alexandria. CLEOPATRA'S palace
-
-Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and ALEXAS
-
- CLEOPATRA. Where is he?
- CHARMIAN. I did not see him since.
- CLEOPATRA. See where he is, who's with him, what he does.
- I did not send you. If you find him sad,
- Say I am dancing; if in mirth, report
- That I am sudden sick. Quick, and return. Exit ALEXAS
- CHARMIAN. Madam, methinks, if you did love him dearly,
- You do not hold the method to enforce
- The like from him.
- CLEOPATRA. What should I do I do not?
- CHARMIAN. In each thing give him way; cross him in nothing.
- CLEOPATRA. Thou teachest like a fool- the way to lose him.
- CHARMIAN. Tempt him not so too far; I wish, forbear;
- In time we hate that which we often fear.
-
- Enter ANTONY
-
- But here comes Antony.
- CLEOPATRA. I am sick and sullen.
- ANTONY. I am sorry to give breathing to my purpose-
- CLEOPATRA. Help me away, dear Charmian; I shall fall.
- It cannot be thus long; the sides of nature
- Will not sustain it.
- ANTONY. Now, my dearest queen-
- CLEOPATRA. Pray you, stand farther from me.
- ANTONY. What's the matter?
- CLEOPATRA. I know by that same eye there's some good news.
- What says the married woman? You may go.
- Would she had never given you leave to come!
- Let her not say 'tis I that keep you here-
- I have no power upon you; hers you are.
- ANTONY. The gods best know-
- CLEOPATRA. O, never was there queen
- So mightily betray'd! Yet at the first
- I saw the treasons planted.
- ANTONY. Cleopatra-
- CLEOPATRA. Why should I think you can be mine and true,
- Though you in swearing shake the throned gods,
- Who have been false to Fulvia? Riotous madness,
- To be entangled with those mouth-made vows,
- Which break themselves in swearing!
- ANTONY. Most sweet queen-
- CLEOPATRA. Nay, pray you seek no colour for your going,
- But bid farewell, and go. When you sued staying,
- Then was the time for words. No going then!
- Eternity was in our lips and eyes,
- Bliss in our brows' bent, none our parts so poor
- But was a race of heaven. They are so still,
- Or thou, the greatest soldier of the world,
- Art turn'd the greatest liar.
- ANTONY. How now, lady!
- CLEOPATRA. I would I had thy inches. Thou shouldst know
- There were a heart in Egypt.
- ANTONY. Hear me, queen:
- The strong necessity of time commands
- Our services awhile; but my full heart
- Remains in use with you. Our Italy
- Shines o'er with civil swords: Sextus Pompeius
- Makes his approaches to the port of Rome;
- Equality of two domestic powers
- Breed scrupulous faction; the hated, grown to strength,
- Are newly grown to love. The condemn'd Pompey,
- Rich in his father's honour, creeps apace
- Into the hearts of such as have not thrived
- Upon the present state, whose numbers threaten;
- And quietness, grown sick of rest, would purge
- By any desperate change. My more particular,
- And that which most with you should safe my going,
- Is Fulvia's death.
- CLEOPATRA. Though age from folly could not give me freedom,
- It does from childishness. Can Fulvia die?
- ANTONY. She's dead, my Queen.
- Look here, and at thy sovereign leisure read
- The garboils she awak'd. At the last, best.
- See when and where she died.
- CLEOPATRA. O most false love!
- Where be the sacred vials thou shouldst fill
- With sorrowful water? Now I see, I see,
- In Fulvia's death how mine receiv'd shall be.
- ANTONY. Quarrel no more, but be prepar'd to know
- The purposes I bear; which are, or cease,
- As you shall give th' advice. By the fire
- That quickens Nilus' slime, I go from hence
- Thy soldier, servant, making peace or war
- As thou affects.
- CLEOPATRA. Cut my lace, Charmian, come!
- But let it be; I am quickly ill and well-
- So Antony loves.
- ANTONY. My precious queen, forbear,
- And give true evidence to his love, which stands
- An honourable trial.
- CLEOPATRA. So Fulvia told me.
- I prithee turn aside and weep for her;
- Then bid adieu to me, and say the tears
- Belong to Egypt. Good now, play one scene
- Of excellent dissembling, and let it look
- Like perfect honour.
- ANTONY. You'll heat my blood; no more.
- CLEOPATRA. You can do better yet; but this is meetly.
- ANTONY. Now, by my sword-
- CLEOPATRA. And target. Still he mends;
- But this is not the best. Look, prithee, Charmian,
- How this Herculean Roman does become
- The carriage of his chafe.
- ANTONY. I'll leave you, lady.
- CLEOPATRA. Courteous lord, one word.
- Sir, you and I must part- but that's not it.
- Sir, you and I have lov'd- but there's not it.
- That you know well. Something it is I would-
- O, my oblivion is a very Antony,
- And I am all forgotten!
- ANTONY. But that your royalty
- Holds idleness your subject, I should take you
- For idleness itself.
- CLEOPATRA. 'Tis sweating labour
- To bear such idleness so near the heart
- As Cleopatra this. But, sir, forgive me;
- Since my becomings kill me when they do not
- Eye well to you. Your honour calls you hence;
- Therefore be deaf to my unpitied folly,
- And all the gods go with you! Upon your sword
- Sit laurel victory, and smooth success
- Be strew'd before your feet!
- ANTONY. Let us go. Come.
- Our separation so abides and flies
- That thou, residing here, goes yet with me,
- And I, hence fleeting, here remain with thee.
- Away! Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE IV.
-Rome. CAESAR'S house
-
-Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, reading a letter; LEPIDUS, and their train
-
- CAESAR. You may see, Lepidus, and henceforth know,
- It is not Caesar's natural vice to hate
- Our great competitor. From Alexandria
- This is the news: he fishes, drinks, and wastes
- The lamps of night in revel; is not more manlike
- Than Cleopatra, nor the queen of Ptolemy
- More womanly than he; hardly gave audience, or
- Vouchsaf'd to think he had partners. You shall find there
- A man who is the abstract of all faults
- That all men follow.
- LEPIDUS. I must not think there are
- Evils enow to darken all his goodness.
- His faults, in him, seem as the spots of heaven,
- More fiery by night's blackness; hereditary
- Rather than purchas'd; what he cannot change
- Than what he chooses.
- CAESAR. You are too indulgent. Let's grant it is not
- Amiss to tumble on the bed of Ptolemy,
- To give a kingdom for a mirth, to sit
- And keep the turn of tippling with a slave,
- To reel the streets at noon, and stand the buffet
- With knaves that smell of sweat. Say this becomes him-
- As his composure must be rare indeed
- Whom these things cannot blemish- yet must Antony
- No way excuse his foils when we do bear
- So great weight in his lightness. If he fill'd
- His vacancy with his voluptuousness,
- Full surfeits and the dryness of his bones
- Call on him for't! But to confound such time
- That drums him from his sport and speaks as loud
- As his own state and ours- 'tis to be chid
- As we rate boys who, being mature in knowledge,
- Pawn their experience to their present pleasure,
- And so rebel to judgment.
-
- Enter a MESSENGER
-
- LEPIDUS. Here's more news.
- MESSENGER. Thy biddings have been done; and every hour,
- Most noble Caesar, shalt thou have report
- How 'tis abroad. Pompey is strong at sea,
- And it appears he is belov'd of those
- That only have fear'd Caesar. To the ports
- The discontents repair, and men's reports
- Give him much wrong'd.
- CAESAR. I should have known no less.
- It hath been taught us from the primal state
- That he which is was wish'd until he were;
- And the ebb'd man, ne'er lov'd till ne'er worth love,
- Comes dear'd by being lack'd. This common body,
- Like to a vagabond flag upon the stream,
- Goes to and back, lackeying the varying tide,
- To rot itself with motion.
- MESSENGER. Caesar, I bring thee word
- Menecrates and Menas, famous pirates,
- Make the sea serve them, which they ear and wound
- With keels of every kind. Many hot inroads
- They make in Italy; the borders maritime
- Lack blood to think on't, and flush youth revolt.
- No vessel can peep forth but 'tis as soon
- Taken as seen; for Pompey's name strikes more
- Than could his war resisted.
- CAESAR. Antony,
- Leave thy lascivious wassails. When thou once
- Was beaten from Modena, where thou slew'st
- Hirtius and Pansa, consuls, at thy heel
- Did famine follow; whom thou fought'st against,
- Though daintily brought up, with patience more
- Than savages could suffer. Thou didst drink
- The stale of horses and the gilded puddle
- Which beasts would cough at. Thy palate then did deign
- The roughest berry on the rudest hedge;
- Yea, like the stag when snow the pasture sheets,
- The barks of trees thou brows'd. On the Alps
- It is reported thou didst eat strange flesh,
- Which some did die to look on. And all this-
- It wounds thine honour that I speak it now-
- Was borne so like a soldier that thy cheek
- So much as lank'd not.
- LEPIDUS. 'Tis pity of him.
- CAESAR. Let his shames quickly
- Drive him to Rome. 'Tis time we twain
- Did show ourselves i' th' field; and to that end
- Assemble we immediate council. Pompey
- Thrives in our idleness.
- LEPIDUS. To-morrow, Caesar,
- I shall be furnish'd to inform you rightly
- Both what by sea and land I can be able
- To front this present time.
- CAESAR. Till which encounter
- It is my business too. Farewell.
- LEPIDUS. Farewell, my lord. What you shall know meantime
- Of stirs abroad, I shall beseech you, sir,
- To let me be partaker.
- CAESAR. Doubt not, sir;
- I knew it for my bond. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE V.
-Alexandria. CLEOPATRA'S palace
-
-Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and MARDIAN
-
- CLEOPATRA. Charmian!
- CHARMIAN. Madam?
- CLEOPATRA. Ha, ha!
- Give me to drink mandragora.
- CHARMIAN. Why, madam?
- CLEOPATRA. That I might sleep out this great gap of time
- My Antony is away.
- CHARMIAN. You think of him too much.
- CLEOPATRA. O, 'tis treason!
- CHARMIAN. Madam, I trust, not so.
- CLEOPATRA. Thou, eunuch Mardian!
- MARDIAN. What's your Highness' pleasure?
- CLEOPATRA. Not now to hear thee sing; I take no pleasure
- In aught an eunuch has. 'Tis well for thee
- That, being unseminar'd, thy freer thoughts
- May not fly forth of Egypt. Hast thou affections?
- MARDIAN. Yes, gracious madam.
- CLEOPATRA. Indeed?
- MARDIAN. Not in deed, madam; for I can do nothing
- But what indeed is honest to be done.
- Yet have I fierce affections, and think
- What Venus did with Mars.
- CLEOPATRA. O Charmian,
- Where think'st thou he is now? Stands he or sits he?
- Or does he walk? or is he on his horse?
- O happy horse, to bear the weight of Antony!
- Do bravely, horse; for wot'st thou whom thou mov'st?
- The demi-Atlas of this earth, the arm
- And burgonet of men. He's speaking now,
- Or murmuring 'Where's my serpent of old Nile?'
- For so he calls me. Now I feed myself
- With most delicious poison. Think on me,
- That am with Phoebus' amorous pinches black,
- And wrinkled deep in time? Broad-fronted Caesar,
- When thou wast here above the ground, I was
- A morsel for a monarch; and great Pompey
- Would stand and make his eyes grow in my brow;
- There would he anchor his aspect and die
- With looking on his life.
-
- Enter ALEXAS
-
- ALEXAS. Sovereign of Egypt, hail!
- CLEOPATRA. How much unlike art thou Mark Antony!
- Yet, coming from him, that great med'cine hath
- With his tinct gilded thee.
- How goes it with my brave Mark Antony?
- ALEXAS. Last thing he did, dear Queen,
- He kiss'd- the last of many doubled kisses-
- This orient pearl. His speech sticks in my heart.
- CLEOPATRA. Mine ear must pluck it thence.
- ALEXAS. 'Good friend,' quoth he
- 'Say the firm Roman to great Egypt sends
- This treasure of an oyster; at whose foot,
- To mend the petty present, I will piece
- Her opulent throne with kingdoms. All the East,
- Say thou, shall call her mistress.' So he nodded,
- And soberly did mount an arm-gaunt steed,
- Who neigh'd so high that what I would have spoke
- Was beastly dumb'd by him.
- CLEOPATRA. What, was he sad or merry?
- ALEXAS. Like to the time o' th' year between the extremes
- Of hot and cold; he was nor sad nor merry.
- CLEOPATRA. O well-divided disposition! Note him,
- Note him, good Charmian; 'tis the man; but note him!
- He was not sad, for he would shine on those
- That make their looks by his; he was not merry,
- Which seem'd to tell them his remembrance lay
- In Egypt with his joy; but between both.
- O heavenly mingle! Be'st thou sad or merry,
- The violence of either thee becomes,
- So does it no man else. Met'st thou my posts?
- ALEXAS. Ay, madam, twenty several messengers.
- Why do you send so thick?
- CLEOPATRA. Who's born that day
- When I forget to send to Antony
- Shall die a beggar. Ink and paper, Charmian.
- Welcome, my good Alexas. Did I, Charmian,
- Ever love Caesar so?
- CHARMIAN. O that brave Caesar!
- CLEOPATRA. Be chok'd with such another emphasis!
- Say 'the brave Antony.'
- CHARMIAN. The valiant Caesar!
- CLEOPATRA. By Isis, I will give thee bloody teeth
- If thou with Caesar paragon again
- My man of men.
- CHARMIAN. By your most gracious pardon,
- I sing but after you.
- CLEOPATRA. My salad days,
- When I was green in judgment, cold in blood,
- To say as I said then. But come, away!
- Get me ink and paper.
- He shall have every day a several greeting,
- Or I'll unpeople Egypt. Exeunt
-
-
-
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-
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-
-
-ACT II. SCENE I.
-Messina. POMPEY'S house
-
-Enter POMPEY, MENECRATES, and MENAS, in warlike manner
-
- POMPEY. If the great gods be just, they shall assist
- The deeds of justest men.
- MENECRATES. Know, worthy Pompey,
- That what they do delay they not deny.
- POMPEY. Whiles we are suitors to their throne, decays
- The thing we sue for.
- MENECRATES. We, ignorant of ourselves,
- Beg often our own harms, which the wise pow'rs
- Deny us for our good; so find we profit
- By losing of our prayers.
- POMPEY. I shall do well.
- The people love me, and the sea is mine;
- My powers are crescent, and my auguring hope
- Says it will come to th' full. Mark Antony
- In Egypt sits at dinner, and will make
- No wars without doors. Caesar gets money where
- He loses hearts. Lepidus flatters both,
- Of both is flatter'd; but he neither loves,
- Nor either cares for him.
- MENAS. Caesar and Lepidus
- Are in the field. A mighty strength they carry.
- POMPEY. Where have you this? 'Tis false.
- MENAS. From Silvius, sir.
- POMPEY. He dreams. I know they are in Rome together,
- Looking for Antony. But all the charms of love,
- Salt Cleopatra, soften thy wan'd lip!
- Let witchcraft join with beauty, lust with both;
- Tie up the libertine in a field of feasts,
- Keep his brain fuming. Epicurean cooks
- Sharpen with cloyless sauce his appetite,
- That sleep and feeding may prorogue his honour
- Even till a Lethe'd dullness-
-
- Enter VARRIUS
-
- How now, Varrius!
- VARRIUS. This is most certain that I shall deliver:
- Mark Antony is every hour in Rome
- Expected. Since he went from Egypt 'tis
- A space for farther travel.
- POMPEY. I could have given less matter
- A better ear. Menas, I did not think
- This amorous surfeiter would have donn'd his helm
- For such a petty war; his soldiership
- Is twice the other twain. But let us rear
- The higher our opinion, that our stirring
- Can from the lap of Egypt's widow pluck
- The ne'er-lust-wearied Antony.
- MENAS. I cannot hope
- Caesar and Antony shall well greet together.
- His wife that's dead did trespasses to Caesar;
- His brother warr'd upon him; although, I think,
- Not mov'd by Antony.
- POMPEY. I know not, Menas,
- How lesser enmities may give way to greater.
- Were't not that we stand up against them all,
- 'Twere pregnant they should square between themselves;
- For they have entertained cause enough
- To draw their swords. But how the fear of us
- May cement their divisions, and bind up
- The petty difference we yet not know.
- Be't as our gods will have't! It only stands
- Our lives upon to use our strongest hands.
- Come, Menas. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-Rome. The house of LEPIDUS
-
-Enter ENOBARBUS and LEPIDUS
-
- LEPIDUS. Good Enobarbus, 'tis a worthy deed,
- And shall become you well, to entreat your captain
- To soft and gentle speech.
- ENOBARBUS. I shall entreat him
- To answer like himself. If Caesar move him,
- Let Antony look over Caesar's head
- And speak as loud as Mars. By Jupiter,
- Were I the wearer of Antonius' beard,
- I would not shave't to-day.
- LEPIDUS. 'Tis not a time
- For private stomaching.
- ENOBARBUS. Every time
- Serves for the matter that is then born in't.
- LEPIDUS. But small to greater matters must give way.
- ENOBARBUS. Not if the small come first.
- LEPIDUS. Your speech is passion;
- But pray you stir no embers up. Here comes
- The noble Antony.
-
- Enter ANTONY and VENTIDIUS
-
- ENOBARBUS. And yonder, Caesar.
-
- Enter CAESAR, MAECENAS, and AGRIPPA
-
- ANTONY. If we compose well here, to Parthia.
- Hark, Ventidius.
- CAESAR. I do not know, Maecenas. Ask Agrippa.
- LEPIDUS. Noble friends,
- That which combin'd us was most great, and let not
- A leaner action rend us. What's amiss,
- May it be gently heard. When we debate
- Our trivial difference loud, we do commit
- Murder in healing wounds. Then, noble partners,
- The rather for I earnestly beseech,
- Touch you the sourest points with sweetest terms,
- Nor curstness grow to th' matter.
- ANTONY. 'Tis spoken well.
- Were we before our arinies, and to fight,
- I should do thus. [Flourish]
- CAESAR. Welcome to Rome.
- ANTONY. Thank you.
- CAESAR. Sit.
- ANTONY. Sit, sir.
- CAESAR. Nay, then. [They sit]
- ANTONY. I learn you take things ill which are not so,
- Or being, concern you not.
- CAESAR. I must be laugh'd at
- If, or for nothing or a little,
- Should say myself offended, and with you
- Chiefly i' the world; more laugh'd at that I should
- Once name you derogately when to sound your name
- It not concern'd me.
- ANTONY. My being in Egypt, Caesar,
- What was't to you?
- CAESAR. No more than my residing here at Rome
- Might be to you in Egypt. Yet, if you there
- Did practise on my state, your being in Egypt
- Might be my question.
- ANTONY. How intend you- practis'd?
- CAESAR. You may be pleas'd to catch at mine intent
- By what did here befall me. Your wife and brother
- Made wars upon me, and their contestation
- Was theme for you; you were the word of war.
- ANTONY. You do mistake your business; my brother never
- Did urge me in his act. I did inquire it,
- And have my learning from some true reports
- That drew their swords with you. Did he not rather
- Discredit my authority with yours,
- And make the wars alike against my stomach,
- Having alike your cause? Of this my letters
- Before did satisfy you. If you'll patch a quarrel,
- As matter whole you have not to make it with,
- It must not be with this.
- CAESAR. You praise yourself
- By laying defects of judgment to me; but
- You patch'd up your excuses.
- ANTONY. Not so, not so;
- I know you could not lack, I am certain on't,
- Very necessity of this thought, that I,
- Your partner in the cause 'gainst which he fought,
- Could not with graceful eyes attend those wars
- Which fronted mine own peace. As for my wife,
- I would you had her spirit in such another!
- The third o' th' world is yours, which with a snaffle
- You may pace easy, but not such a wife.
- ENOBARBUS. Would we had all such wives, that the men might go to
- wars with the women!
- ANTONY. So much uncurbable, her garboils, Caesar,
- Made out of her impatience- which not wanted
- Shrewdness of policy too- I grieving grant
- Did you too much disquiet. For that you must
- But say I could not help it.
- CAESAR. I wrote to you
- When rioting in Alexandria; you
- Did pocket up my letters, and with taunts
- Did gibe my missive out of audience.
- ANTONY. Sir,
- He fell upon me ere admitted. Then
- Three kings I had newly feasted, and did want
- Of what I was i' th' morning; but next day
- I told him of myself, which was as much
- As to have ask'd him pardon. Let this fellow
- Be nothing of our strife; if we contend,
- Out of our question wipe him.
- CAESAR. You have broken
- The article of your oath, which you shall never
- Have tongue to charge me with.
- LEPIDUS. Soft, Caesar!
- ANTONY. No;
- Lepidus, let him speak.
- The honour is sacred which he talks on now,
- Supposing that I lack'd it. But on, Caesar:
- The article of my oath-
- CAESAR. To lend me arms and aid when I requir'd them,
- The which you both denied.
- ANTONY. Neglected, rather;
- And then when poisoned hours had bound me up
- From mine own knowledge. As nearly as I may,
- I'll play the penitent to you; but mine honesty
- Shall not make poor my greatness, nor my power
- Work without it. Truth is, that Fulvia,
- To have me out of Egypt, made wars here;
- For which myself, the ignorant motive, do
- So far ask pardon as befits mine honour
- To stoop in such a case.
- LEPIDUS. 'Tis noble spoken.
- MAECENAS. If it might please you to enforce no further
- The griefs between ye- to forget them quite
- Were to remember that the present need
- Speaks to atone you.
- LEPIDUS. Worthily spoken, Maecenas.
- ENOBARBUS. Or, if you borrow one another's love for the instant,
- you may, when you hear no more words of Pompey, return it again.
- You shall have time to wrangle in when you have nothing else to
- do.
- ANTONY. Thou art a soldier only. Speak no more.
- ENOBARBUS. That truth should be silent I had almost forgot.
- ANTONY. You wrong this presence; therefore speak no more.
- ENOBARBUS. Go to, then- your considerate stone!
- CAESAR. I do not much dislike the matter, but
- The manner of his speech; for't cannot be
- We shall remain in friendship, our conditions
- So diff'ring in their acts. Yet if I knew
- What hoop should hold us stanch, from edge to edge
- O' th' world, I would pursue it.
- AGRIPPA. Give me leave, Caesar.
- CAESAR. Speak, Agrippa.
- AGRIPPA. Thou hast a sister by the mother's side,
- Admir'd Octavia. Great Mark Antony
- Is now a widower.
- CAESAR. Say not so, Agrippa.
- If Cleopatra heard you, your reproof
- Were well deserv'd of rashness.
- ANTONY. I am not married, Caesar. Let me hear
- Agrippa further speak.
- AGRIPPA. To hold you in perpetual amity,
- To make you brothers, and to knit your hearts
- With an unslipping knot, take Antony
- Octavia to his wife; whose beauty claims
- No worse a husband than the best of men;
- Whose virtue and whose general graces speak
- That which none else can utter. By this marriage
- All little jealousies, which now seem great,
- And all great fears, which now import their dangers,
- Would then be nothing. Truths would be tales,
- Where now half tales be truths. Her love to both
- Would each to other, and all loves to both,
- Draw after her. Pardon what I have spoke;
- For 'tis a studied, not a present thought,
- By duty ruminated.
- ANTONY. Will Caesar speak?
- CAESAR. Not till he hears how Antony is touch'd
- With what is spoke already.
- ANTONY. What power is in Agrippa,
- If I would say 'Agrippa, be it so,'
- To make this good?
- CAESAR. The power of Caesar, and
- His power unto Octavia.
- ANTONY. May I never
- To this good purpose, that so fairly shows,
- Dream of impediment! Let me have thy hand.
- Further this act of grace; and from this hour
- The heart of brothers govern in our loves
- And sway our great designs!
- CAESAR. There is my hand.
- A sister I bequeath you, whom no brother
- Did ever love so dearly. Let her live
- To join our kingdoms and our hearts; and never
- Fly off our loves again!
- LEPIDUS. Happily, amen!
- ANTONY. I did not think to draw my sword 'gainst Pompey;
- For he hath laid strange courtesies and great
- Of late upon me. I must thank him only,
- Lest my remembrance suffer ill report;
- At heel of that, defy him.
- LEPIDUS. Time calls upon's.
- Of us must Pompey presently be sought,
- Or else he seeks out us.
- ANTONY. Where lies he?
- CAESAR. About the Mount Misenum.
- ANTONY. What is his strength by land?
- CAESAR. Great and increasing; but by sea
- He is an absolute master.
- ANTONY. So is the fame.
- Would we had spoke together! Haste we for it.
- Yet, ere we put ourselves in arms, dispatch we
- The business we have talk'd of.
- CAESAR. With most gladness;
- And do invite you to my sister's view,
- Whither straight I'll lead you.
- ANTONY. Let us, Lepidus,
- Not lack your company.
- LEPIDUS. Noble Antony,
- Not sickness should detain me. [Flourish]
- Exeunt all but ENOBARBUS, AGRIPPA, MAECENAS
- MAECENAS. Welcome from Egypt, sir.
- ENOBARBUS. Half the heart of Caesar, worthy Maecenas! My honourable
- friend, Agrippa!
- AGRIPPA. Good Enobarbus!
- MAECENAS. We have cause to be glad that matters are so well
- digested. You stay'd well by't in Egypt.
- ENOBARBUS. Ay, sir; we did sleep day out of countenance and made
- the night light with drinking.
- MAECENAS. Eight wild boars roasted whole at a breakfast, and but
- twelve persons there. Is this true?
- ENOBARBUS. This was but as a fly by an eagle. We had much more
- monstrous matter of feast, which worthily deserved noting.
- MAECENAS. She's a most triumphant lady, if report be square to her.
- ENOBARBUS. When she first met Mark Antony she purs'd up his heart,
- upon the river of Cydnus.
- AGRIPPA. There she appear'd indeed! Or my reporter devis'd well for
- her.
- ENOBARBUS. I will tell you.
- The barge she sat in, like a burnish'd throne,
- Burn'd on the water. The poop was beaten gold;
- Purple the sails, and so perfumed that
- The winds were love-sick with them; the oars were silver,
- Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made
- The water which they beat to follow faster,
- As amorous of their strokes. For her own person,
- It beggar'd all description. She did lie
- In her pavilion, cloth-of-gold, of tissue,
- O'erpicturing that Venus where we see
- The fancy out-work nature. On each side her
- Stood pretty dimpled boys, like smiling Cupids,
- With divers-colour'd fans, whose wind did seem
- To glow the delicate cheeks which they did cool,
- And what they undid did.
- AGRIPPA. O, rare for Antony!
- ENOBARBUS. Her gentlewomen, like the Nereides,
- So many mermaids, tended her i' th' eyes,
- And made their bends adornings. At the helm
- A seeming mermaid steers. The silken tackle
- Swell with the touches of those flower-soft hands
- That yarely frame the office. From the barge
- A strange invisible perfume hits the sense
- Of the adjacent wharfs. The city cast
- Her people out upon her; and Antony,
- Enthron'd i' th' market-place, did sit alone,
- Whistling to th' air; which, but for vacancy,
- Had gone to gaze on Cleopatra too,
- And made a gap in nature.
- AGRIPPA. Rare Egyptian!
- ENOBARBUS. Upon her landing, Antony sent to her,
- Invited her to supper. She replied
- It should be better he became her guest;
- Which she entreated. Our courteous Antony,
- Whom ne'er the word of 'No' woman heard speak,
- Being barber'd ten times o'er, goes to the feast,
- And for his ordinary pays his heart
- For what his eyes eat only.
- AGRIPPA. Royal wench!
- She made great Caesar lay his sword to bed.
- He ploughed her, and she cropp'd.
- ENOBARBUS. I saw her once
- Hop forty paces through the public street;
- And, having lost her breath, she spoke, and panted,
- That she did make defect perfection,
- And, breathless, pow'r breathe forth.
- MAECENAS. Now Antony must leave her utterly.
- ENOBARBUS. Never! He will not.
- Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale
- Her infinite variety. Other women cloy
- The appetites they feed, but she makes hungry
- Where most she satisfies; for vilest things
- Become themselves in her, that the holy priests
- Bless her when she is riggish.
- MAECENAS. If beauty, wisdom, modesty, can settle
- The heart of Antony, Octavia is
- A blessed lottery to him.
- AGRIPPA. Let us go.
- Good Enobarbus, make yourself my guest
- Whilst you abide here.
- ENOBARBUS. Humbly, sir, I thank you. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-Rome. CAESAR'S house
-
-Enter ANTONY, CAESAR, OCTAVIA between them
-
- ANTONY. The world and my great office will sometimes
- Divide me from your bosom.
- OCTAVIA. All which time
- Before the gods my knee shall bow my prayers
- To them for you.
- ANTONY. Good night, sir. My Octavia,
- Read not my blemishes in the world's report.
- I have not kept my square; but that to come
- Shall all be done by th' rule. Good night, dear lady.
- OCTAVIA. Good night, sir.
- CAESAR. Good night. Exeunt CAESAR and OCTAVIA
-
- Enter SOOTHSAYER
-
- ANTONY. Now, sirrah, you do wish yourself in Egypt?
- SOOTHSAYER. Would I had never come from thence, nor you thither!
- ANTONY. If you can- your reason.
- SOOTHSAYER. I see it in my motion, have it not in my tongue; but
- yet hie you to Egypt again.
- ANTONY. Say to me,
- Whose fortunes shall rise higher, Caesar's or mine?
- SOOTHSAYER. Caesar's.
- Therefore, O Antony, stay not by his side.
- Thy daemon, that thy spirit which keeps thee, is
- Noble, courageous, high, unmatchable,
- Where Caesar's is not; but near him thy angel
- Becomes a fear, as being o'erpow'r'd. Therefore
- Make space enough between you.
- ANTONY. Speak this no more.
- SOOTHSAYER. To none but thee; no more but when to thee.
- If thou dost play with him at any game,
- Thou art sure to lose; and of that natural luck
- He beats thee 'gainst the odds. Thy lustre thickens
- When he shines by. I say again, thy spirit
- Is all afraid to govern thee near him;
- But, he away, 'tis noble.
- ANTONY. Get thee gone.
- Say to Ventidius I would speak with him.
- Exit SOOTHSAYER
- He shall to Parthia.- Be it art or hap,
- He hath spoken true. The very dice obey him;
- And in our sports my better cunning faints
- Under his chance. If we draw lots, he speeds;
- His cocks do win the battle still of mine,
- When it is all to nought, and his quails ever
- Beat mine, inhoop'd, at odds. I will to Egypt;
- And though I make this marriage for my peace,
- I' th' East my pleasure lies.
-
- Enter VENTIDIUS
-
- O, come, Ventidius,
- You must to Parthia. Your commission's ready;
- Follow me and receive't. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE IV.
-Rome. A street
-
-Enter LEPIDUS, MAECENAS, and AGRIPPA
-
- LEPIDUS. Trouble yourselves no further. Pray you hasten
- Your generals after.
- AGRIPPA. Sir, Mark Antony
- Will e'en but kiss Octavia, and we'll follow.
- LEPIDUS. Till I shall see you in your soldier's dress,
- Which will become you both, farewell.
- MAECENAS. We shall,
- As I conceive the journey, be at th' Mount
- Before you, Lepidus.
- LEPIDUS. Your way is shorter;
- My purposes do draw me much about.
- You'll win two days upon me.
- BOTH. Sir, good success!
- LEPIDUS. Farewell. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE V.
-Alexandria. CLEOPATRA'S palace
-
-Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and ALEXAS
-
- CLEOPATRA. Give me some music- music, moody food
- Of us that trade in love.
- ALL. The music, ho!
-
- Enter MARDIAN the eunuch
-
- CLEOPATRA. Let it alone! Let's to billiards. Come, Charmian.
- CHARMIAN. My arm is sore; best play with Mardian.
- CLEOPATRA. As well a woman with an eunuch play'd
- As with a woman. Come, you'll play with me, sir?
- MARDIAN. As well as I can, madam.
- CLEOPATRA. And when good will is show'd, though't come too short,
- The actor may plead pardon. I'll none now.
- Give me mine angle- we'll to th' river. There,
- My music playing far off, I will betray
- Tawny-finn'd fishes; my bended hook shall pierce
- Their slimy jaws; and as I draw them up
- I'll think them every one an Antony,
- And say 'Ah ha! Y'are caught.'
- CHARMIAN. 'Twas merry when
- You wager'd on your angling; when your diver
- Did hang a salt fish on his hook, which he
- With fervency drew up.
- CLEOPATRA. That time? O times
- I laughed him out of patience; and that night
- I laugh'd him into patience; and next morn,
- Ere the ninth hour, I drunk him to his bed,
- Then put my tires and mantles on him, whilst
- I wore his sword Philippan.
-
- Enter a MESSENGER
-
- O! from Italy?
- Ram thou thy fruitful tidings in mine ears,
- That long time have been barren.
- MESSENGER. Madam, madam-
- CLEOPATRA. Antony's dead! If thou say so, villain,
- Thou kill'st thy mistress; but well and free,
- If thou so yield him, there is gold, and here
- My bluest veins to kiss- a hand that kings
- Have lipp'd, and trembled kissing.
- MESSENGER. First, madam, he is well.
- CLEOPATRA. Why, there's more gold.
- But, sirrah, mark, we use
- To say the dead are well. Bring it to that,
- The gold I give thee will I melt and pour
- Down thy ill-uttering throat.
- MESSENGER. Good madam, hear me.
- CLEOPATRA. Well, go to, I will.
- But there's no goodness in thy face. If Antony
- Be free and healthful- why so tart a favour
- To trumpet such good tidings? If not well,
- Thou shouldst come like a Fury crown'd with snakes,
- Not like a formal man.
- MESSENGER. Will't please you hear me?
- CLEOPATRA. I have a mind to strike thee ere thou speak'st.
- Yet, if thou say Antony lives, is well,
- Or friends with Caesar, or not captive to him,
- I'll set thee in a shower of gold, and hail
- Rich pearls upon thee.
- MESSENGER. Madam, he's well.
- CLEOPATRA. Well said.
- MESSENGER. And friends with Caesar.
- CLEOPATRA. Th'art an honest man.
- MESSENGER. Caesar and he are greater friends than ever.
- CLEOPATRA. Make thee a fortune from me.
- MESSENGER. But yet, madam-
- CLEOPATRA. I do not like 'but yet.' It does allay
- The good precedence; fie upon 'but yet'!
- 'But yet' is as a gaoler to bring forth
- Some monstrous malefactor. Prithee, friend,
- Pour out the pack of matter to mine ear,
- The good and bad together. He's friends with Caesar;
- In state of health, thou say'st; and, thou say'st, free.
- MESSENGER. Free, madam! No; I made no such report.
- He's bound unto Octavia.
- CLEOPATRA. For what good turn?
- MESSENGER. For the best turn i' th' bed.
- CLEOPATRA. I am pale, Charmian.
- MESSENGER. Madam, he's married to Octavia.
- CLEOPATRA. The most infectious pestilence upon thee!
- [Strikes him down]
- MESSENGER. Good madam, patience.
- CLEOPATRA. What say you? Hence, [Strikes him]
- Horrible villain! or I'll spurn thine eyes
- Like balls before me; I'll unhair thy head;
- [She hales him up and down]
- Thou shalt be whipp'd with wire and stew'd in brine,
- Smarting in ling'ring pickle.
- MESSENGER. Gracious madam,
- I that do bring the news made not the match.
- CLEOPATRA. Say 'tis not so, a province I will give thee,
- And make thy fortunes proud. The blow thou hadst
- Shall make thy peace for moving me to rage;
- And I will boot thee with what gift beside
- Thy modesty can beg.
- MESSENGER. He's married, madam.
- CLEOPATRA. Rogue, thou hast liv'd too long. [Draws a knife]
- MESSENGER. Nay, then I'll run.
- What mean you, madam? I have made no fault. Exit
- CHARMIAN. Good madam, keep yourself within yourself:
- The man is innocent.
- CLEOPATRA. Some innocents scape not the thunderbolt.
- Melt Egypt into Nile! and kindly creatures
- Turn all to serpents! Call the slave again.
- Though I am mad, I will not bite him. Call!
- CHARMIAN. He is afear'd to come.
- CLEOPATRA. I will not hurt him.
- These hands do lack nobility, that they strike
- A meaner than myself; since I myself
- Have given myself the cause.
-
- Enter the MESSENGER again
-
- Come hither, sir.
- Though it be honest, it is never good
- To bring bad news. Give to a gracious message
- An host of tongues; but let ill tidings tell
- Themselves when they be felt.
- MESSENGER. I have done my duty.
- CLEOPATRA. Is he married?
- I cannot hate thee worser than I do
- If thou again say 'Yes.'
- MESSENGER. He's married, madam.
- CLEOPATRA. The gods confound thee! Dost thou hold there still?
- MESSENGER. Should I lie, madam?
- CLEOPATRA. O, I would thou didst,
- So half my Egypt were submerg'd and made
- A cistern for scal'd snakes! Go, get thee hence.
- Hadst thou Narcissus in thy face, to me
- Thou wouldst appear most ugly. He is married?
- MESSENGER. I crave your Highness' pardon.
- CLEOPATRA. He is married?
- MESSENGER. Take no offence that I would not offend you;
- To punish me for what you make me do
- Seems much unequal. He's married to Octavia.
- CLEOPATRA. O, that his fault should make a knave of thee
- That art not what th'art sure of! Get thee hence.
- The merchandise which thou hast brought from Rome
- Are all too dear for me. Lie they upon thy hand,
- And be undone by 'em! Exit MESSENGER
- CHARMIAN. Good your Highness, patience.
- CLEOPATRA. In praising Antony I have disprais'd Caesar.
- CHARMIAN. Many times, madam.
- CLEOPATRA. I am paid for't now. Lead me from hence,
- I faint. O Iras, Charmian! 'Tis no matter.
- Go to the fellow, good Alexas; bid him
- Report the feature of Octavia, her years,
- Her inclination; let him not leave out
- The colour of her hair. Bring me word quickly.
- Exit ALEXAS
- Let him for ever go- let him not, Charmian-
- Though he be painted one way like a Gorgon,
- The other way's a Mars. [To MARDIAN]
- Bid you Alexas
- Bring me word how tall she is.- Pity me, Charmian,
- But do not speak to me. Lead me to my chamber. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE VI.
-Near Misenum
-
-Flourish. Enter POMPEY and MENAS at one door, with drum and trumpet;
-at another, CAESAR, ANTONY, LEPIDUS, ENOBARBUS, MAECENAS, AGRIPPA,
-with soldiers marching
-
- POMPEY. Your hostages I have, so have you mine;
- And we shall talk before we fight.
- CAESAR. Most meet
- That first we come to words; and therefore have we
- Our written purposes before us sent;
- Which if thou hast considered, let us know
- If 'twill tie up thy discontented sword
- And carry back to Sicily much tall youth
- That else must perish here.
- POMPEY. To you all three,
- The senators alone of this great world,
- Chief factors for the gods: I do not know
- Wherefore my father should revengers want,
- Having a son and friends, since Julius Caesar,
- Who at Philippi the good Brutus ghosted,
- There saw you labouring for him. What was't
- That mov'd pale Cassius to conspire? and what
- Made the all-honour'd honest Roman, Brutus,
- With the arm'd rest, courtiers of beauteous freedom,
- To drench the Capitol, but that they would
- Have one man but a man? And that is it
- Hath made me rig my navy, at whose burden
- The anger'd ocean foams; with which I meant
- To scourge th' ingratitude that despiteful Rome
- Cast on my noble father.
- CAESAR. Take your time.
- ANTONY. Thou canst not fear us, Pompey, with thy sails;
- We'll speak with thee at sea; at land thou know'st
- How much we do o'er-count thee.
- POMPEY. At land, indeed,
- Thou dost o'er-count me of my father's house.
- But since the cuckoo builds not for himself,
- Remain in't as thou mayst.
- LEPIDUS. Be pleas'd to tell us-
- For this is from the present- how you take
- The offers we have sent you.
- CAESAR. There's the point.
- ANTONY. Which do not be entreated to, but weigh
- What it is worth embrac'd.
- CAESAR. And what may follow,
- To try a larger fortune.
- POMPEY. You have made me offer
- Of Sicily, Sardinia; and I must
- Rid all the sea of pirates; then to send
- Measures of wheat to Rome; this 'greed upon,
- To part with unhack'd edges and bear back
- Our targes undinted.
- ALL. That's our offer.
- POMPEY. Know, then,
- I came before you here a man prepar'd
- To take this offer; but Mark Antony
- Put me to some impatience. Though I lose
- The praise of it by telling, you must know,
- When Caesar and your brother were at blows,
- Your mother came to Sicily and did find
- Her welcome friendly.
- ANTONY. I have heard it, Pompey,
- And am well studied for a liberal thanks
- Which I do owe you.
- POMPEY. Let me have your hand.
- I did not think, sir, to have met you here.
- ANTONY. The beds i' th' East are soft; and thanks to you,
- That call'd me timelier than my purpose hither;
- For I have gained by't.
- CAESAR. Since I saw you last
- There is a change upon you.
- POMPEY. Well, I know not
- What counts harsh fortune casts upon my face;
- But in my bosom shall she never come
- To make my heart her vassal.
- LEPIDUS. Well met here.
- POMPEY. I hope so, Lepidus. Thus we are agreed.
- I crave our composition may be written,
- And seal'd between us.
- CAESAR. That's the next to do.
- POMPEY. We'll feast each other ere we part, and let's
- Draw lots who shall begin.
- ANTONY. That will I, Pompey.
- POMPEY. No, Antony, take the lot;
- But, first or last, your fine Egyptian cookery
- Shall have the fame. I have heard that Julius Caesar
- Grew fat with feasting there.
- ANTONY. You have heard much.
- POMPEY. I have fair meanings, sir.
- ANTONY. And fair words to them.
- POMPEY. Then so much have I heard;
- And I have heard Apollodorus carried-
- ENOBARBUS. No more of that! He did so.
- POMPEY. What, I pray you?
- ENOBARBUS. A certain queen to Caesar in a mattress.
- POMPEY. I know thee now. How far'st thou, soldier?
- ENOBARBUS. Well;
- And well am like to do, for I perceive
- Four feasts are toward.
- POMPEY. Let me shake thy hand.
- I never hated thee; I have seen thee fight,
- When I have envied thy behaviour.
- ENOBARBUS. Sir,
- I never lov'd you much; but I ha' prais'd ye
- When you have well deserv'd ten times as much
- As I have said you did.
- POMPEY. Enjoy thy plainness;
- It nothing ill becomes thee.
- Aboard my galley I invite you all.
- Will you lead, lords?
- ALL. Show's the way, sir.
- POMPEY. Come. Exeunt all but ENOBARBUS and MENAS
- MENAS. [Aside] Thy father, Pompey, would ne'er have made this
- treaty.- You and I have known, sir.
- ENOBARBUS. At sea, I think.
- MENAS. We have, sir.
- ENOBARBUS. You have done well by water.
- MENAS. And you by land.
- ENOBARBUS. I Will praise any man that will praise me; though it
- cannot be denied what I have done by land.
- MENAS. Nor what I have done by water.
- ENOBARBUS. Yes, something you can deny for your own safety: you
- have been a great thief by sea.
- MENAS. And you by land.
- ENOBARBUS. There I deny my land service. But give me your hand,
- Menas; if our eyes had authority, here they might take two
- thieves kissing.
- MENAS. All men's faces are true, whatsome'er their hands are.
- ENOBARBUS. But there is never a fair woman has a true face.
- MENAS. No slander: they steal hearts.
- ENOBARBUS. We came hither to fight with you.
- MENAS. For my part, I am sorry it is turn'd to a drinking.
- Pompey doth this day laugh away his fortune.
- ENOBARBUS. If he do, sure he cannot weep't back again.
- MENAS. Y'have said, sir. We look'd not for Mark Antony here. Pray
- you, is he married to Cleopatra?
- ENOBARBUS. Caesar' sister is call'd Octavia.
- MENAS. True, sir; she was the wife of Caius Marcellus.
- ENOBARBUS. But she is now the wife of Marcus Antonius.
- MENAS. Pray ye, sir?
- ENOBARBUS. 'Tis true.
- MENAS. Then is Caesar and he for ever knit together.
- ENOBARBUS. If I were bound to divine of this unity, I would not
- prophesy so.
- MENAS. I think the policy of that purpose made more in the marriage
- than the love of the parties.
- ENOBARBUS. I think so too. But you shall find the band that seems
- to tie their friendship together will be the very strangler of
- their amity: Octavia is of a holy, cold, and still conversation.
- MENAS. Who would not have his wife so?
- ENOBARBUS. Not he that himself is not so; which is Mark Antony. He
- will to his Egyptian dish again; then shall the sighs of Octavia
- blow the fire up in Caesar, and, as I said before, that which is
- the strength of their amity shall prove the immediate author of
- their variance. Antony will use his affection where it is; he
- married but his occasion here.
- MENAS. And thus it may be. Come, sir, will you aboard? I have a
- health for you.
- ENOBARBUS. I shall take it, sir. We have us'd our throats in Egypt.
- MENAS. Come, let's away. Exeunt
-
-ACT_2|SC_7
- SCENE VII.
- On board POMPEY'S galley, off Misenum
-
- Music plays. Enter two or three SERVANTS with a banquet
-
- FIRST SERVANT. Here they'll be, man. Some o' their plants are
- ill-rooted already; the least wind i' th' world will blow them
- down.
- SECOND SERVANT. Lepidus is high-colour'd.
- FIRST SERVANT. They have made him drink alms-drink.
- SECOND SERVANT. As they pinch one another by the disposition, he
- cries out 'No more!'; reconciles them to his entreaty and himself
- to th' drink.
- FIRST SERVANT. But it raises the greater war between him and his
- discretion.
- SECOND SERVANT. Why, this it is to have a name in great men's
- fellowship. I had as lief have a reed that will do me no service
- as a partizan I could not heave.
- FIRST SERVANT. To be call'd into a huge sphere, and not to be seen
- to move in't, are the holes where eyes should be, which pitifully
- disaster the cheeks.
-
- A sennet sounded. Enter CAESAR, ANTONY, LEPIDUS,
- POMPEY, AGRIPPA, MAECENAS, ENOBARBUS, MENAS,
- with other CAPTAINS
-
- ANTONY. [To CAESAR] Thus do they, sir: they take the flow o' th'
- Nile
- By certain scales i' th' pyramid; they know
- By th' height, the lowness, or the mean, if dearth
- Or foison follow. The higher Nilus swells
- The more it promises; as it ebbs, the seedsman
- Upon the slime and ooze scatters his grain,
- And shortly comes to harvest.
- LEPIDUS. Y'have strange serpents there.
- ANTONY. Ay, Lepidus.
- LEPIDUS. Your serpent of Egypt is bred now of your mud by the
- operation of your sun; so is your crocodile.
- ANTONY. They are so.
- POMPEY. Sit- and some wine! A health to Lepidus!
- LEPIDUS. I am not so well as I should be, but I'll ne'er out.
- ENOBARBUS. Not till you have slept. I fear me you'll be in till
- then.
- LEPIDUS. Nay, certainly, I have heard the Ptolemies' pyramises are
- very goodly things. Without contradiction I have heard that.
- MENAS. [Aside to POMPEY] Pompey, a word.
- POMPEY. [Aside to MENAS] Say in mine ear; what is't?
- MENAS. [Aside to POMPEY] Forsake thy seat, I do beseech thee,
- Captain,
- And hear me speak a word.
- POMPEY. [ Whispers in's ear ] Forbear me till anon-
- This wine for Lepidus!
- LEPIDUS. What manner o' thing is your crocodile?
- ANTONY. It is shap'd, sir, like itself, and it is as broad as it
- hath breadth; it is just so high as it is, and moves with it own
- organs. It lives by that which nourisheth it, and the elements
- once out of it, it transmigrates.
- LEPIDUS. What colour is it of?
- ANTONY. Of it own colour too.
- LEPIDUS. 'Tis a strange serpent.
- ANTONY. 'Tis so. And the tears of it are wet.
- CAESAR. Will this description satisfy him?
- ANTONY. With the health that Pompey gives him, else he is a very
- epicure.
- POMPEY. [Aside to MENAS] Go, hang, sir, hang! Tell me of that!
- Away!
- Do as I bid you.- Where's this cup I call'd for?
- MENAS. [Aside to POMPEY] If for the sake of merit thou wilt hear
- me,
- Rise from thy stool.
- POMPEY. [Aside to MENAS] I think th'art mad. [Rises and walks
- aside] The matter?
- MENAS. I have ever held my cap off to thy fortunes.
- POMPEY. Thou hast serv'd me with much faith. What's else to say?-
- Be jolly, lords.
- ANTONY. These quicksands, Lepidus,
- Keep off them, for you sink.
- MENAS. Wilt thou be lord of all the world?
- POMPEY. What say'st thou?
- MENAS. Wilt thou be lord of the whole world? That's twice.
- POMPEY. How should that be?
- MENAS. But entertain it,
- And though you think me poor, I am the man
- Will give thee all the world.
- POMPEY. Hast thou drunk well?
- MENAS. No, Pompey, I have kept me from the cup.
- Thou art, if thou dar'st be, the earthly Jove;
- Whate'er the ocean pales or sky inclips
- Is thine, if thou wilt ha't.
- POMPEY. Show me which way.
- MENAS. These three world-sharers, these competitors,
- Are in thy vessel. Let me cut the cable;
- And when we are put off, fall to their throats.
- All there is thine.
- POMPEY. Ah, this thou shouldst have done,
- And not have spoke on't. In me 'tis villainy:
- In thee't had been good service. Thou must know
- 'Tis not my profit that does lead mine honour:
- Mine honour, it. Repent that e'er thy tongue
- Hath so betray'd thine act. Being done unknown,
- I should have found it afterwards well done,
- But must condemn it now. Desist, and drink.
- MENAS. [Aside] For this,
- I'll never follow thy pall'd fortunes more.
- Who seeks, and will not take when once 'tis offer'd,
- Shall never find it more.
- POMPEY. This health to Lepidus!
- ANTONY. Bear him ashore. I'll pledge it for him, Pompey.
- ENOBARBUS. Here's to thee, Menas!
- MENAS. Enobarbus, welcome!
- POMPEY. Fill till the cup be hid.
- ENOBARBUS. There's a strong fellow, Menas.
- [Pointing to the servant who carries off LEPIDUS]
- MENAS. Why?
- ENOBARBUS. 'A bears the third part of the world, man; see'st not?
- MENAS. The third part, then, is drunk. Would it were all,
- That it might go on wheels!
- ENOBARBUS. Drink thou; increase the reels.
- MENAS. Come.
- POMPEY. This is not yet an Alexandrian feast.
- ANTONY. It ripens towards it. Strike the vessels, ho!
- Here's to Caesar!
- CAESAR. I could well forbear't.
- It's monstrous labour when I wash my brain
- And it grows fouler.
- ANTONY. Be a child o' th' time.
- CAESAR. Possess it, I'll make answer.
- But I had rather fast from all four days
- Than drink so much in one.
- ENOBARBUS. [To ANTONY] Ha, my brave emperor!
- Shall we dance now the Egyptian Bacchanals
- And celebrate our drink?
- POMPEY. Let's ha't, good soldier.
- ANTONY. Come, let's all take hands,
- Till that the conquering wine hath steep'd our sense
- In soft and delicate Lethe.
- ENOBARBUS. All take hands.
- Make battery to our ears with the loud music,
- The while I'll place you; then the boy shall sing;
- The holding every man shall bear as loud
- As his strong sides can volley.
- [Music plays. ENOBARBUS places them hand in hand]
-
- THE SONG
- Come, thou monarch of the vine,
- Plumpy Bacchus with pink eyne!
- In thy fats our cares be drown'd,
- With thy grapes our hairs be crown'd.
- Cup us till the world go round,
- Cup us till the world go round!
-
- CAESAR. What would you more? Pompey, good night. Good brother,
- Let me request you off; our graver business
- Frowns at this levity. Gentle lords, let's part;
- You see we have burnt our cheeks. Strong Enobarb
- Is weaker than the wine, and mine own tongue
- Splits what it speaks. The wild disguise hath almost
- Antick'd us all. What needs more words? Good night.
- Good Antony, your hand.
- POMPEY. I'll try you on the shore.
- ANTONY. And shall, sir. Give's your hand.
- POMPEY. O Antony,
- You have my father's house- but what? We are friends.
- Come, down into the boat.
- ENOBARBUS. Take heed you fall not.
- Exeunt all but ENOBARBUS and MENAS
- Menas, I'll not on shore.
- MENAS. No, to my cabin.
- These drums! these trumpets, flutes! what!
- Let Neptune hear we bid a loud farewell
- To these great fellows. Sound and be hang'd, sound out!
- [Sound a flourish, with drums]
- ENOBARBUS. Hoo! says 'a. There's my cap.
- MENAS. Hoo! Noble Captain, come. Exeunt
-ACT_3|SC_1
- ACT III. SCENE I.
- A plain in Syria
-
- Enter VENTIDIUS, as it were in triumph, with SILIUS
- and other Romans, OFFICERS and soldiers; the dead body
- of PACORUS borne before him
-
- VENTIDIUS. Now, darting Parthia, art thou struck, and now
- Pleas'd fortune does of Marcus Crassus' death
- Make me revenger. Bear the King's son's body
- Before our army. Thy Pacorus, Orodes,
- Pays this for Marcus Crassus.
- SILIUS. Noble Ventidius,
- Whilst yet with Parthian blood thy sword is warm
- The fugitive Parthians follow; spur through Media,
- Mesopotamia, and the shelters whither
- The routed fly. So thy grand captain, Antony,
- Shall set thee on triumphant chariots and
- Put garlands on thy head.
- VENTIDIUS. O Silius, Silius,
- I have done enough. A lower place, note well,
- May make too great an act; for learn this, Silius:
- Better to leave undone than by our deed
- Acquire too high a fame when him we serve's away.
- Caesar and Antony have ever won
- More in their officer, than person. Sossius,
- One of my place in Syria, his lieutenant,
- For quick accumulation of renown,
- Which he achiev'd by th' minute, lost his favour.
- Who does i' th' wars more than his captain can
- Becomes his captain's captain; and ambition,
- The soldier's virtue, rather makes choice of loss
- Than gain which darkens him.
- I could do more to do Antonius good,
- But 'twould offend him; and in his offence
- Should my performance perish.
- SILIUS. Thou hast, Ventidius, that
- Without the which a soldier and his sword
- Grants scarce distinction. Thou wilt write to Antony?
- VENTIDIUS. I'll humbly signify what in his name,
- That magical word of war, we have effected;
- How, with his banners, and his well-paid ranks,
- The ne'er-yet-beaten horse of Parthia
- We have jaded out o' th' field.
- SILIUS. Where is he now?
- VENTIDIUS. He purposeth to Athens; whither, with what haste
- The weight we must convey with's will permit,
- We shall appear before him.- On, there; pass along.
- Exeunt
-
-ACT_3|SC_2
- SCENE II. Rome. CAESAR'S house
-
- Enter AGRIPPA at one door, ENOBARBUS at another
-
- AGRIPPA. What, are the brothers parted?
- ENOBARBUS. They have dispatch'd with Pompey; he is gone;
- The other three are sealing. Octavia weeps
- To part from Rome; Caesar is sad; and Lepidus,
- Since Pompey's feast, as Menas says, is troubled
- With the green sickness.
- AGRIPPA. 'Tis a noble Lepidus.
- ENOBARBUS. A very fine one. O, how he loves Caesar!
- AGRIPPA. Nay, but how dearly he adores Mark Antony!
- ENOBARBUS. Caesar? Why he's the Jupiter of men.
- AGRIPPA. What's Antony? The god of Jupiter.
- ENOBARBUS. Spake you of Caesar? How! the nonpareil!
- AGRIPPA. O, Antony! O thou Arabian bird!
- ENOBARBUS. Would you praise Caesar, say 'Caesar'- go no further.
- AGRIPPA. Indeed, he plied them both with excellent praises.
- ENOBARBUS. But he loves Caesar best. Yet he loves Antony.
- Hoo! hearts, tongues, figures, scribes, bards, poets, cannot
- Think, speak, cast, write, sing, number- hoo!-
- His love to Antony. But as for Caesar,
- Kneel down, kneel down, and wonder.
- AGRIPPA. Both he loves.
- ENOBARBUS. They are his shards, and he their beetle. [Trumpets
- within] So-
- This is to horse. Adieu, noble Agrippa.
- AGRIPPA. Good fortune, worthy soldier, and farewell.
-
- Enter CAESAR, ANTONY, LEPIDUS, and OCTAVIA
-
- ANTONY. No further, sir.
- CAESAR. You take from me a great part of myself;
- Use me well in't. Sister, prove such a wife
- As my thoughts make thee, and as my farthest band
- Shall pass on thy approof. Most noble Antony,
- Let not the piece of virtue which is set
- Betwixt us as the cement of our love
- To keep it builded be the ram to batter
- The fortress of it; for better might we
- Have lov'd without this mean, if on both parts
- This be not cherish'd.
- ANTONY. Make me not offended
- In your distrust.
- CAESAR. I have said.
- ANTONY. You shall not find,
- Though you be therein curious, the least cause
- For what you seem to fear. So the gods keep you,
- And make the hearts of Romans serve your ends!
- We will here part.
- CAESAR. Farewell, my dearest sister, fare thee well.
- The elements be kind to thee and make
- Thy spirits all of comfort! Fare thee well.
- OCTAVIA. My noble brother!
- ANTONY. The April's in her eyes. It is love's spring,
- And these the showers to bring it on. Be cheerful.
- OCTAVIA. Sir, look well to my husband's house; and-
- CAESAR. What, Octavia?
- OCTAVIA. I'll tell you in your ear.
- ANTONY. Her tongue will not obey her heart, nor can
- Her heart inform her tongue- the swan's down feather,
- That stands upon the swell at the full of tide,
- And neither way inclines.
- ENOBARBUS. [Aside to AGRIPPA] Will Caesar weep?
- AGRIPPA. [Aside to ENOBARBUS] He has a cloud in's face.
- ENOBARBUS. [Aside to AGRIPPA] He were the worse for that, were he a
- horse;
- So is he, being a man.
- AGRIPPA. [Aside to ENOBARBUS] Why, Enobarbus,
- When Antony found Julius Caesar dead,
- He cried almost to roaring; and he wept
- When at Philippi he found Brutus slain.
- ENOBARBUS. [Aside to AGRIPPA] That year, indeed, he was troubled
- with a rheum;
- What willingly he did confound he wail'd,
- Believe't- till I weep too.
- CAESAR. No, sweet Octavia,
- You shall hear from me still; the time shall not
- Out-go my thinking on you.
- ANTONY. Come, sir, come;
- I'll wrestle with you in my strength of love.
- Look, here I have you; thus I let you go,
- And give you to the gods.
- CAESAR. Adieu; be happy!
- LEPIDUS. Let all the number of the stars give light
- To thy fair way!
- CAESAR. Farewell, farewell! [Kisses OCTAVIA]
- ANTONY. Farewell! Trumpets sound. Exeunt
-
-ACT_3|SC_3
- SCENE III.
- Alexandria. CLEOPATRA'S palace
-
- Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and ALEXAS
-
- CLEOPATRA. Where is the fellow?
- ALEXAS. Half afeard to come.
- CLEOPATRA. Go to, go to.
-
- Enter the MESSENGER as before
-
- Come hither, sir.
- ALEXAS. Good Majesty,
- Herod of Jewry dare not look upon you
- But when you are well pleas'd.
- CLEOPATRA. That Herod's head
- I'll have. But how, when Antony is gone,
- Through whom I might command it? Come thou near.
- MESSENGER. Most gracious Majesty!
- CLEOPATRA. Didst thou behold Octavia?
- MESSENGER. Ay, dread Queen.
- CLEOPATRA. Where?
- MESSENGER. Madam, in Rome
- I look'd her in the face, and saw her led
- Between her brother and Mark Antony.
- CLEOPATRA. Is she as tall as me?
- MESSENGER. She is not, madam.
- CLEOPATRA. Didst hear her speak? Is she shrill-tongu'd or low?
- MESSENGER. Madam, I heard her speak: she is low-voic'd.
- CLEOPATRA. That's not so good. He cannot like her long.
- CHARMIAN. Like her? O Isis! 'tis impossible.
- CLEOPATRA. I think so, Charmian. Dull of tongue and dwarfish!
- What majesty is in her gait? Remember,
- If e'er thou look'dst on majesty.
- MESSENGER. She creeps.
- Her motion and her station are as one;
- She shows a body rather than a life,
- A statue than a breather.
- CLEOPATRA. Is this certain?
- MESSENGER. Or I have no observance.
- CHARMIAN. Three in Egypt
- Cannot make better note.
- CLEOPATRA. He's very knowing;
- I do perceive't. There's nothing in her yet.
- The fellow has good judgment.
- CHARMIAN. Excellent.
- CLEOPATRA. Guess at her years, I prithee.
- MESSENGER. Madam,
- She was a widow.
- CLEOPATRA. Widow? Charmian, hark!
- MESSENGER. And I do think she's thirty.
- CLEOPATRA. Bear'st thou her face in mind? Is't long or round?
- MESSENGER. Round even to faultiness.
- CLEOPATRA. For the most part, too, they are foolish that are so.
- Her hair, what colour?
- MESSENGER. Brown, madam; and her forehead
- As low as she would wish it.
- CLEOPATRA. There's gold for thee.
- Thou must not take my former sharpness ill.
- I will employ thee back again; I find thee
- Most fit for business. Go make thee ready;
- Our letters are prepar'd. Exeunt MESSENGER
- CHARMIAN. A proper man.
- CLEOPATRA. Indeed, he is so. I repent me much
- That so I harried him. Why, methinks, by him,
- This creature's no such thing.
- CHARMIAN. Nothing, madam.
- CLEOPATRA. The man hath seen some majesty, and should know.
- CHARMIAN. Hath he seen majesty? Isis else defend,
- And serving you so long!
- CLEOPATRA. I have one thing more to ask him yet, good Charmian.
- But 'tis no matter; thou shalt bring him to me
- Where I will write. All may be well enough.
- CHARMIAN. I warrant you, madam. Exeunt
-
-ACT_3|SC_4
- SCENE IV.
- Athens. ANTONY'S house
-
- Enter ANTONY and OCTAVIA
-
- ANTONY. Nay, nay, Octavia, not only that-
- That were excusable, that and thousands more
- Of semblable import- but he hath wag'd
- New wars 'gainst Pompey; made his will, and read it
- To public ear;
- Spoke scandy of me; when perforce he could not
- But pay me terms of honour, cold and sickly
- He vented them, most narrow measure lent me;
- When the best hint was given him, he not took't,
- Or did it from his teeth.
- OCTAVIA. O my good lord,
- Believe not all; or if you must believe,
- Stomach not all. A more unhappy lady,
- If this division chance, ne'er stood between,
- Praying for both parts.
- The good gods will mock me presently
- When I shall pray 'O, bless my lord and husband!'
- Undo that prayer by crying out as loud
- 'O, bless my brother!' Husband win, win brother,
- Prays, and destroys the prayer; no mid-way
- 'Twixt these extremes at all.
- ANTONY. Gentle Octavia,
- Let your best love draw to that point which seeks
- Best to preserve it. If I lose mine honour,
- I lose myself; better I were not yours
- Than yours so branchless. But, as you requested,
- Yourself shall go between's. The meantime, lady,
- I'll raise the preparation of a war
- Shall stain your brother. Make your soonest haste;
- So your desires are yours.
- OCTAVIA. Thanks to my lord.
- The Jove of power make me, most weak, most weak,
- Your reconciler! Wars 'twixt you twain would be
- As if the world should cleave, and that slain men
- Should solder up the rift.
- ANTONY. When it appears to you where this begins,
- Turn your displeasure that way, for our faults
- Can never be so equal that your love
- Can equally move with them. Provide your going;
- Choose your own company, and command what cost
- Your heart has mind to. Exeunt
-
-ACT_3|SC_5
- SCENE V.
- Athens. ANTONY'S house
-
- Enter ENOBARBUS and EROS, meeting
-
- ENOBARBUS. How now, friend Eros!
- EROS. There's strange news come, sir.
- ENOBARBUS. What, man?
- EROS. Caesar and Lepidus have made wars upon Pompey.
- ENOBARBUS. This is old. What is the success?
- EROS. Caesar, having made use of him in the wars 'gainst Pompey,
- presently denied him rivality, would not let him partake in the
- glory of the action; and not resting here, accuses him of letters
- he had formerly wrote to Pompey; upon his own appeal, seizes him.
- So the poor third is up, till death enlarge his confine.
- ENOBARBUS. Then, world, thou hast a pair of chaps- no more;
- And throw between them all the food thou hast,
- They'll grind the one the other. Where's Antony?
- EROS. He's walking in the garden- thus, and spurns
- The rush that lies before him; cries 'Fool Lepidus!'
- And threats the throat of that his officer
- That murd'red Pompey.
- ENOBARBUS. Our great navy's rigg'd.
- EROS. For Italy and Caesar. More, Domitius:
- My lord desires you presently; my news
- I might have told hereafter.
- ENOBARBUS. 'Twill be naught;
- But let it be. Bring me to Antony.
- EROS. Come, sir. Exeunt
-
-ACT_3|SC_6
- SCENE VI.
- Rome. CAESAR'S house
-
- Enter CAESAR, AGRIPPA, and MAECENAS
-
- CAESAR. Contemning Rome, he has done all this and more
- In Alexandria. Here's the manner of't:
- I' th' market-place, on a tribunal silver'd,
- Cleopatra and himself in chairs of gold
- Were publicly enthron'd; at the feet sat
- Caesarion, whom they call my father's son,
- And all the unlawful issue that their lust
- Since then hath made between them. Unto her
- He gave the stablishment of Egypt; made her
- Of lower Syria, Cyprus, Lydia,
- Absolute queen.
- MAECENAS. This in the public eye?
- CAESAR. I' th' common show-place, where they exercise.
- His sons he there proclaim'd the kings of kings:
- Great Media, Parthia, and Armenia,
- He gave to Alexander; to Ptolemy he assign'd
- Syria, Cilicia, and Phoenicia. She
- In th' habiliments of the goddess Isis
- That day appear'd; and oft before gave audience,
- As 'tis reported, so.
- MAECENAS. Let Rome be thus
- Inform'd.
- AGRIPPA. Who, queasy with his insolence
- Already, will their good thoughts call from him.
- CAESAR. The people knows it, and have now receiv'd
- His accusations.
- AGRIPPA. Who does he accuse?
- CAESAR. Caesar; and that, having in Sicily
- Sextus Pompeius spoil'd, we had not rated him
- His part o' th' isle. Then does he say he lent me
- Some shipping, unrestor'd. Lastly, he frets
- That Lepidus of the triumvirate
- Should be depos'd; and, being, that we detain
- All his revenue.
- AGRIPPA. Sir, this should be answer'd.
- CAESAR. 'Tis done already, and messenger gone.
- I have told him Lepidus was grown too cruel,
- That he his high authority abus'd,
- And did deserve his change. For what I have conquer'd
- I grant him part; but then, in his Armenia
- And other of his conquer'd kingdoms,
- Demand the like.
- MAECENAS. He'll never yield to that.
- CAESAR. Nor must not then be yielded to in this.
-
- Enter OCTAVIA, with her train
-
- OCTAVIA. Hail, Caesar, and my lord! hail, most dear Caesar!
- CAESAR. That ever I should call thee cast-away!
- OCTAVIA. You have not call'd me so, nor have you cause.
- CAESAR. Why have you stol'n upon us thus? You come not
- Like Caesar's sister. The wife of Antony
- Should have an army for an usher, and
- The neighs of horse to tell of her approach
- Long ere she did appear. The trees by th' way
- Should have borne men, and expectation fainted,
- Longing for what it had not. Nay, the dust
- Should have ascended to the roof of heaven,
- Rais'd by your populous troops. But you are come
- A market-maid to Rome, and have prevented
- The ostentation of our love, which left unshown
- Is often left unlov'd. We should have met you
- By sea and land, supplying every stage
- With an augmented greeting.
- OCTAVIA. Good my lord,
- To come thus was I not constrain'd, but did it
- On my free will. My lord, Mark Antony,
- Hearing that you prepar'd for war, acquainted
- My grieved ear withal; whereon I begg'd
- His pardon for return.
- CAESAR. Which soon he granted,
- Being an obstruct 'tween his lust and him.
- OCTAVIA. Do not say so, my lord.
- CAESAR. I have eyes upon him,
- And his affairs come to me on the wind.
- Where is he now?
- OCTAVIA. My lord, in Athens.
- CAESAR. No, my most wronged sister: Cleopatra
- Hath nodded him to her. He hath given his empire
- Up to a whore, who now are levying
- The kings o' th' earth for war. He hath assembled
- Bocchus, the king of Libya; Archelaus
- Of Cappadocia; Philadelphos, king
- Of Paphlagonia; the Thracian king, Adallas;
- King Manchus of Arabia; King of Pont;
- Herod of Jewry; Mithridates, king
- Of Comagene; Polemon and Amyntas,
- The kings of Mede and Lycaonia, with
- More larger list of sceptres.
- OCTAVIA. Ay me most wretched,
- That have my heart parted betwixt two friends,
- That does afflict each other!
- CAESAR. Welcome hither.
- Your letters did withhold our breaking forth,
- Till we perceiv'd both how you were wrong led
- And we in negligent danger. Cheer your heart;
- Be you not troubled with the time, which drives
- O'er your content these strong necessities,
- But let determin'd things to destiny
- Hold unbewail'd their way. Welcome to Rome;
- Nothing more dear to me. You are abus'd
- Beyond the mark of thought, and the high gods,
- To do you justice, make their ministers
- Of us and those that love you. Best of comfort,
- And ever welcome to us.
- AGRIPPA. Welcome, lady.
- MAECENAS. Welcome, dear madam.
- Each heart in Rome does love and pity you;
- Only th' adulterous Antony, most large
- In his abominations, turns you off,
- And gives his potent regiment to a trull
- That noises it against us.
- OCTAVIA. Is it so, sir?
- CAESAR. Most certain. Sister, welcome. Pray you
- Be ever known to patience. My dear'st sister! Exeunt
-
-ACT_3|SC_7
- SCENE VII.
- ANTONY'S camp near Actium
-
- Enter CLEOPATRA and ENOBARBUS
-
- CLEOPATRA. I will be even with thee, doubt it not.
- ENOBARBUS. But why, why,
- CLEOPATRA. Thou hast forspoke my being in these wars,
- And say'st it is not fit.
- ENOBARBUS. Well, is it, is it?
- CLEOPATRA. Is't not denounc'd against us? Why should not we
- Be there in person?
- ENOBARBUS. [Aside] Well, I could reply:
- If we should serve with horse and mares together
- The horse were merely lost; the mares would bear
- A soldier and his horse.
- CLEOPATRA. What is't you say?
- ENOBARBUS. Your presence needs must puzzle Antony;
- Take from his heart, take from his brain, from's time,
- What should not then be spar'd. He is already
- Traduc'd for levity; and 'tis said in Rome
- That Photinus an eunuch and your maids
- Manage this war.
- CLEOPATRA. Sink Rome, and their tongues rot
- That speak against us! A charge we bear i' th' war,
- And, as the president of my kingdom, will
- Appear there for a man. Speak not against it;
- I will not stay behind.
-
- Enter ANTONY and CANIDIUS
-
- ENOBARBUS. Nay, I have done.
- Here comes the Emperor.
- ANTONY. Is it not strange, Canidius,
- That from Tarentum and Brundusium
- He could so quickly cut the Ionian sea,
- And take in Toryne?- You have heard on't, sweet?
- CLEOPATRA. Celerity is never more admir'd
- Than by the negligent.
- ANTONY. A good rebuke,
- Which might have well becom'd the best of men
- To taunt at slackness. Canidius, we
- Will fight with him by sea.
- CLEOPATRA. By sea! What else?
- CANIDIUS. Why will my lord do so?
- ANTONY. For that he dares us to't.
- ENOBARBUS. So hath my lord dar'd him to single fight.
- CANIDIUS. Ay, and to wage this battle at Pharsalia,
- Where Caesar fought with Pompey. But these offers,
- Which serve not for his vantage, he shakes off;
- And so should you.
- ENOBARBUS. Your ships are not well mann'd;
- Your mariners are muleteers, reapers, people
- Ingross'd by swift impress. In Caesar's fleet
- Are those that often have 'gainst Pompey fought;
- Their ships are yare; yours heavy. No disgrace
- Shall fall you for refusing him at sea,
- Being prepar'd for land.
- ANTONY. By sea, by sea.
- ENOBARBUS. Most worthy sir, you therein throw away
- The absolute soldiership you have by land;
- Distract your army, which doth most consist
- Of war-mark'd footmen; leave unexecuted
- Your own renowned knowledge; quite forgo
- The way which promises assurance; and
- Give up yourself merely to chance and hazard
- From firm security.
- ANTONY. I'll fight at sea.
- CLEOPATRA. I have sixty sails, Caesar none better.
- ANTONY. Our overplus of shipping will we burn,
- And, with the rest full-mann'd, from th' head of Actium
- Beat th' approaching Caesar. But if we fail,
- We then can do't at land.
-
- Enter a MESSENGER
-
- Thy business?
- MESSENGER. The news is true, my lord: he is descried;
- Caesar has taken Toryne.
- ANTONY. Can he be there in person? 'Tis impossible-
- Strange that his power should be. Canidius,
- Our nineteen legions thou shalt hold by land,
- And our twelve thousand horse. We'll to our ship.
- Away, my Thetis!
-
- Enter a SOLDIER
-
- How now, worthy soldier?
- SOLDIER. O noble Emperor, do not fight by sea;
- Trust not to rotten planks. Do you misdoubt
- This sword and these my wounds? Let th' Egyptians
- And the Phoenicians go a-ducking; we
- Have us'd to conquer standing on the earth
- And fighting foot to foot.
- ANTONY. Well, well- away.
- Exeunt ANTONY, CLEOPATRA, and ENOBARBUS
- SOLDIER. By Hercules, I think I am i' th' right.
- CANIDIUS. Soldier, thou art; but his whole action grows
- Not in the power on't. So our leader's led,
- And we are women's men.
- SOLDIER. You keep by land
- The legions and the horse whole, do you not?
- CANIDIUS. Marcus Octavius, Marcus Justeius,
- Publicola, and Caelius are for sea;
- But we keep whole by land. This speed of Caesar's
- Carries beyond belief.
- SOLDIER. While he was yet in Rome,
- His power went out in such distractions as
- Beguil'd all spies.
- CANIDIUS. Who's his lieutenant, hear you?
- SOLDIER. They say one Taurus.
- CANIDIUS. Well I know the man.
-
- Enter a MESSENGER
-
- MESSENGER. The Emperor calls Canidius.
- CANIDIUS. With news the time's with labour and throes forth
- Each minute some. Exeunt
-
-ACT_3|SC_8
- SCENE VIII.
- A plain near Actium
-
- Enter CAESAR, with his army, marching
-
- CAESAR. Taurus!
- TAURUS. My lord?
- CAESAR. Strike not by land; keep whole; provoke not battle
- Till we have done at sea. Do not exceed
- The prescript of this scroll. Our fortune lies
- Upon this jump. Exeunt
-
-ACT_3|SC_9
- SCENE IX.
- Another part of the plain
-
- Enter ANTONY and ENOBARBUS
-
- ANTONY. Set we our squadrons on yon side o' th' hill,
- In eye of Caesar's battle; from which place
- We may the number of the ships behold,
- And so proceed accordingly. Exeunt
-
-ACT_3|SC_10
- SCENE X.
- Another part of the plain
-
- CANIDIUS marcheth with his land army one way
- over the stage, and TAURUS, the Lieutenant of
- CAESAR, the other way. After their going in is heard
- the noise of a sea-fight
-
- Alarum. Enter ENOBARBUS
-
- ENOBARBUS. Naught, naught, all naught! I can behold no longer.
- Th' Antoniad, the Egyptian admiral,
- With all their sixty, fly and turn the rudder.
- To see't mine eyes are blasted.
-
- Enter SCARUS
-
- SCARUS. Gods and goddesses,
- All the whole synod of them!
- ENOBARBUS. What's thy passion?
- SCARUS. The greater cantle of the world is lost
- With very ignorance; we have kiss'd away
- Kingdoms and provinces.
- ENOBARBUS. How appears the fight?
- SCARUS. On our side like the token'd pestilence,
- Where death is sure. Yon ribaudred nag of Egypt-
- Whom leprosy o'ertake!- i' th' midst o' th' fight,
- When vantage like a pair of twins appear'd,
- Both as the same, or rather ours the elder-
- The breese upon her, like a cow in June-
- Hoists sails and flies.
- ENOBARBUS. That I beheld;
- Mine eyes did sicken at the sight and could not
- Endure a further view.
- SCARUS. She once being loof'd,
- The noble ruin of her magic, Antony,
- Claps on his sea-wing, and, like a doting mallard,
- Leaving the fight in height, flies after her.
- I never saw an action of such shame;
- Experience, manhood, honour, ne'er before
- Did violate so itself.
- ENOBARBUS. Alack, alack!
-
- Enter CANIDIUS
-
- CANIDIUS. Our fortune on the sea is out of breath,
- And sinks most lamentably. Had our general
- Been what he knew himself, it had gone well.
- O, he has given example for our flight
- Most grossly by his own!
- ENOBARBUS. Ay, are you thereabouts?
- Why then, good night indeed.
- CANIDIUS. Toward Peloponnesus are they fled.
- SCARUS. 'Tis easy to't; and there I will attend
- What further comes.
- CANIDIUS. To Caesar will I render
- My legions and my horse; six kings already
- Show me the way of yielding.
- ENOBARBUS. I'll yet follow
- The wounded chance of Antony, though my reason
- Sits in the wind against me. Exeunt
-
-ACT_3|SC_11
- SCENE XI.
- Alexandria. CLEOPATRA'S palace
-
- Enter ANTONY With attendants
-
- ANTONY. Hark! the land bids me tread no more upon't;
- It is asham'd to bear me. Friends, come hither.
- I am so lated in the world that I
- Have lost my way for ever. I have a ship
- Laden with gold; take that; divide it. Fly,
- And make your peace with Caesar.
- ALL. Fly? Not we!
- ANTONY. I have fled myself, and have instructed cowards
- To run and show their shoulders. Friends, be gone;
- I have myself resolv'd upon a course
- Which has no need of you; be gone.
- My treasure's in the harbour, take it. O,
- I follow'd that I blush to look upon.
- My very hairs do mutiny; for the white
- Reprove the brown for rashness, and they them
- For fear and doting. Friends, be gone; you shall
- Have letters from me to some friends that will
- Sweep your way for you. Pray you look not sad,
- Nor make replies of loathness; take the hint
- Which my despair proclaims. Let that be left
- Which leaves itself. To the sea-side straight way.
- I will possess you of that ship and treasure.
- Leave me, I pray, a little; pray you now;
- Nay, do so, for indeed I have lost command;
- Therefore I pray you. I'll see you by and by. [Sits down]
-
- Enter CLEOPATRA, led by CHARMIAN and IRAS,
- EROS following
-
- EROS. Nay, gentle madam, to him! Comfort him.
- IRAS. Do, most dear Queen.
- CHARMIAN. Do? Why, what else?
- CLEOPATRA. Let me sit down. O Juno!
- ANTONY. No, no, no, no, no.
- EROS. See you here, sir?
- ANTONY. O, fie, fie, fie!
- CHARMIAN. Madam!
- IRAS. Madam, O good Empress!
- EROS. Sir, sir!
- ANTONY. Yes, my lord, yes. He at Philippi kept
- His sword e'en like a dancer, while I struck
- The lean and wrinkled Cassius; and 'twas I
- That the mad Brutus ended; he alone
- Dealt on lieutenantry, and no practice had
- In the brave squares of war. Yet now- no matter.
- CLEOPATRA. Ah, stand by!
- EROS. The Queen, my lord, the Queen!
- IRAS. Go to him, madam, speak to him.
- He is unqualitied with very shame.
- CLEOPATRA. Well then, sustain me. O!
- EROS. Most noble sir, arise; the Queen approaches.
- Her head's declin'd, and death will seize her but
- Your comfort makes the rescue.
- ANTONY. I have offended reputation-
- A most unnoble swerving.
- EROS. Sir, the Queen.
- ANTONY. O, whither hast thou led me, Egypt? See
- How I convey my shame out of thine eyes
- By looking back what I have left behind
- 'Stroy'd in dishonour.
- CLEOPATRA. O my lord, my lord,
- Forgive my fearful sails! I little thought
- You would have followed.
- ANTONY. Egypt, thou knew'st too well
- My heart was to thy rudder tied by th' strings,
- And thou shouldst tow me after. O'er my spirit
- Thy full supremacy thou knew'st, and that
- Thy beck might from the bidding of the gods
- Command me.
- CLEOPATRA. O, my pardon!
- ANTONY. Now I must
- To the young man send humble treaties, dodge
- And palter in the shifts of lowness, who
- With half the bulk o' th' world play'd as I pleas'd,
- Making and marring fortunes. You did know
- How much you were my conqueror, and that
- My sword, made weak by my affection, would
- Obey it on all cause.
- CLEOPATRA. Pardon, pardon!
- ANTONY. Fall not a tear, I say; one of them rates
- All that is won and lost. Give me a kiss;
- Even this repays me.
- We sent our schoolmaster; is 'a come back?
- Love, I am full of lead. Some wine,
- Within there, and our viands! Fortune knows
- We scorn her most when most she offers blows. Exeunt
-
-ACT_3|SC_12
- SCENE XII.
- CAESAR'S camp in Egypt
-
- Enter CAESAR, AGRIPPA, DOLABELLA, THYREUS, with others
-
- CAESAR. Let him appear that's come from Antony.
- Know you him?
- DOLABELLA. Caesar, 'tis his schoolmaster:
- An argument that he is pluck'd, when hither
- He sends so poor a pinion of his wing,
- Which had superfluous kings for messengers
- Not many moons gone by.
-
- Enter EUPHRONIUS, Ambassador from ANTONY
-
- CAESAR. Approach, and speak.
- EUPHRONIUS. Such as I am, I come from Antony.
- I was of late as petty to his ends
- As is the morn-dew on the myrtle leaf
- To his grand sea.
- CAESAR. Be't so. Declare thine office.
- EUPHRONIUS. Lord of his fortunes he salutes thee, and
- Requires to live in Egypt; which not granted,
- He lessens his requests and to thee sues
- To let him breathe between the heavens and earth,
- A private man in Athens. This for him.
- Next, Cleopatra does confess thy greatness,
- Submits her to thy might, and of thee craves
- The circle of the Ptolemies for her heirs,
- Now hazarded to thy grace.
- CAESAR. For Antony,
- I have no ears to his request. The Queen
- Of audience nor desire shall fail, so she
- From Egypt drive her all-disgraced friend,
- Or take his life there. This if she perform,
- She shall not sue unheard. So to them both.
- EUPHRONIUS. Fortune pursue thee!
- CAESAR. Bring him through the bands. Exit EUPHRONIUS
- [To THYREUS] To try thy eloquence, now 'tis time. Dispatch;
- From Antony win Cleopatra. Promise,
- And in our name, what she requires; add more,
- From thine invention, offers. Women are not
- In their best fortunes strong; but want will perjure
- The ne'er-touch'd vestal. Try thy cunning, Thyreus;
- Make thine own edict for thy pains, which we
- Will answer as a law.
- THYREUS. Caesar, I go.
- CAESAR. Observe how Antony becomes his flaw,
- And what thou think'st his very action speaks
- In every power that moves.
- THYREUS. Caesar, I shall. Exeunt
-
-ACT_3|SC_13
- SCENE XIII.
- Alexandria. CLEOPATRA'S palace
-
- Enter CLEOPATRA, ENOBARBUS, CHARMIAN, and IRAS
-
- CLEOPATRA. What shall we do, Enobarbus?
- ENOBARBUS. Think, and die.
- CLEOPATRA. Is Antony or we in fault for this?
- ENOBARBUS. Antony only, that would make his will
- Lord of his reason. What though you fled
- From that great face of war, whose several ranges
- Frighted each other? Why should he follow?
- The itch of his affection should not then
- Have nick'd his captainship, at such a point,
- When half to half the world oppos'd, he being
- The mered question. 'Twas a shame no less
- Than was his loss, to course your flying flags
- And leave his navy gazing.
- CLEOPATRA. Prithee, peace.
-
- Enter EUPHRONIUS, the Ambassador; with ANTONY
-
- ANTONY. Is that his answer?
- EUPHRONIUS. Ay, my lord.
- ANTONY. The Queen shall then have courtesy, so she
- Will yield us up.
- EUPHRONIUS. He says so.
- ANTONY. Let her know't.
- To the boy Caesar send this grizzled head,
- And he will fill thy wishes to the brim
- With principalities.
- CLEOPATRA. That head, my lord?
- ANTONY. To him again. Tell him he wears the rose
- Of youth upon him; from which the world should note
- Something particular. His coin, ships, legions,
- May be a coward's whose ministers would prevail
- Under the service of a child as soon
- As i' th' command of Caesar. I dare him therefore
- To lay his gay comparisons apart,
- And answer me declin'd, sword against sword,
- Ourselves alone. I'll write it. Follow me.
- Exeunt ANTONY and EUPHRONIUS
- EUPHRONIUS. [Aside] Yes, like enough high-battled Caesar will
- Unstate his happiness, and be stag'd to th' show
- Against a sworder! I see men's judgments are
- A parcel of their fortunes, and things outward
- Do draw the inward quality after them,
- To suffer all alike. That he should dream,
- Knowing all measures, the full Caesar will
- Answer his emptiness! Caesar, thou hast subdu'd
- His judgment too.
-
- Enter a SERVANT
-
- SERVANT. A messenger from Caesar.
- CLEOPATRA. What, no more ceremony? See, my women!
- Against the blown rose may they stop their nose
- That kneel'd unto the buds. Admit him, sir. Exit SERVANT
- ENOBARBUS. [Aside] Mine honesty and I begin to square.
- The loyalty well held to fools does make
- Our faith mere folly. Yet he that can endure
- To follow with allegiance a fall'n lord
- Does conquer him that did his master conquer,
- And earns a place i' th' story.
-
- Enter THYREUS
-
- CLEOPATRA. Caesar's will?
- THYREUS. Hear it apart.
- CLEOPATRA. None but friends: say boldly.
- THYREUS. So, haply, are they friends to Antony.
- ENOBARBUS. He needs as many, sir, as Caesar has,
- Or needs not us. If Caesar please, our master
- Will leap to be his friend. For us, you know
- Whose he is we are, and that is Caesar's.
- THYREUS. So.
- Thus then, thou most renown'd: Caesar entreats
- Not to consider in what case thou stand'st
- Further than he is Caesar.
- CLEOPATRA. Go on. Right royal!
- THYREUS. He knows that you embrace not Antony
- As you did love, but as you fear'd him.
- CLEOPATRA. O!
- THYREUS. The scars upon your honour, therefore, he
- Does pity, as constrained blemishes,
- Not as deserv'd.
- CLEOPATRA. He is a god, and knows
- What is most right. Mine honour was not yielded,
- But conquer'd merely.
- ENOBARBUS. [Aside] To be sure of that,
- I will ask Antony. Sir, sir, thou art so leaky
- That we must leave thee to thy sinking, for
- Thy dearest quit thee. Exit
- THYREUS. Shall I say to Caesar
- What you require of him? For he partly begs
- To be desir'd to give. It much would please him
- That of his fortunes you should make a staff
- To lean upon. But it would warm his spirits
- To hear from me you had left Antony,
- And put yourself under his shroud,
- The universal landlord.
- CLEOPATRA. What's your name?
- THYREUS. My name is Thyreus.
- CLEOPATRA. Most kind messenger,
- Say to great Caesar this: in deputation
- I kiss his conquring hand. Tell him I am prompt
- To lay my crown at 's feet, and there to kneel.
- Tell him from his all-obeying breath I hear
- The doom of Egypt.
- THYREUS. 'Tis your noblest course.
- Wisdom and fortune combating together,
- If that the former dare but what it can,
- No chance may shake it. Give me grace to lay
- My duty on your hand.
- CLEOPATRA. Your Caesar's father oft,
- When he hath mus'd of taking kingdoms in,
- Bestow'd his lips on that unworthy place,
- As it rain'd kisses.
-
- Re-enter ANTONY and ENOBARBUS
-
- ANTONY. Favours, by Jove that thunders!
- What art thou, fellow?
- THYREUS. One that but performs
- The bidding of the fullest man, and worthiest
- To have command obey'd.
- ENOBARBUS. [Aside] You will be whipt.
- ANTONY. Approach there.- Ah, you kite!- Now, gods and devils!
- Authority melts from me. Of late, when I cried 'Ho!'
- Like boys unto a muss, kings would start forth
- And cry 'Your will?' Have you no ears? I am
- Antony yet.
-
- Enter servants
-
- Take hence this Jack and whip him.
- ENOBARBUS. 'Tis better playing with a lion's whelp
- Than with an old one dying.
- ANTONY. Moon and stars!
- Whip him. Were't twenty of the greatest tributaries
- That do acknowledge Caesar, should I find them
- So saucy with the hand of she here- what's her name
- Since she was Cleopatra? Whip him, fellows,
- Till like a boy you see him cringe his face,
- And whine aloud for mercy. Take him hence.
- THYMUS. Mark Antony-
- ANTONY. Tug him away. Being whipt,
- Bring him again: the Jack of Caesar's shall
- Bear us an errand to him. Exeunt servants with THYREUS
- You were half blasted ere I knew you. Ha!
- Have I my pillow left unpress'd in Rome,
- Forborne the getting of a lawful race,
- And by a gem of women, to be abus'd
- By one that looks on feeders?
- CLEOPATRA. Good my lord-
- ANTONY. You have been a boggler ever.
- But when we in our viciousness grow hard-
- O misery on't!- the wise gods seel our eyes,
- In our own filth drop our clear judgments, make us
- Adore our errors, laugh at's while we strut
- To our confusion.
- CLEOPATRA. O, is't come to this?
- ANTONY. I found you as a morsel cold upon
- Dead Caesar's trencher. Nay, you were a fragment
- Of Cneius Pompey's, besides what hotter hours,
- Unregist'red in vulgar fame, you have
- Luxuriously pick'd out; for I am sure,
- Though you can guess what temperance should be,
- You know not what it is.
- CLEOPATRA. Wherefore is this?
- ANTONY. To let a fellow that will take rewards,
- And say 'God quit you!' be familiar with
- My playfellow, your hand, this kingly seal
- And plighter of high hearts! O that I were
- Upon the hill of Basan to outroar
- The horned herd! For I have savage cause,
- And to proclaim it civilly were like
- A halter'd neck which does the hangman thank
- For being yare about him.
-
- Re-enter a SERVANT with THYREUS
-
- Is he whipt?
- SERVANT. Soundly, my lord.
- ANTONY. Cried he? and begg'd 'a pardon?
- SERVANT. He did ask favour.
- ANTONY. If that thy father live, let him repent
- Thou wast not made his daughter; and be thou sorry
- To follow Caesar in his triumph, since
- Thou hast been whipt for following him. Henceforth
- The white hand of a lady fever thee!
- Shake thou to look on't. Get thee back to Caesar;
- Tell him thy entertainment; look thou say
- He makes me angry with him; for he seems
- Proud and disdainful, harping on what I am,
- Not what he knew I was. He makes me angry;
- And at this time most easy 'tis to do't,
- When my good stars, that were my former guides,
- Have empty left their orbs and shot their fires
- Into th' abysm of hell. If he mislike
- My speech and what is done, tell him he has
- Hipparchus, my enfranched bondman, whom
- He may at pleasure whip or hang or torture,
- As he shall like, to quit me. Urge it thou.
- Hence with thy stripes, be gone. Exit THYREUS
- CLEOPATRA. Have you done yet?
- ANTONY. Alack, our terrene moon
- Is now eclips'd, and it portends alone
- The fall of Antony.
- CLEOPATRA. I must stay his time.
- ANTONY. To flatter Caesar, would you mingle eyes
- With one that ties his points?
- CLEOPATRA. Not know me yet?
- ANTONY. Cold-hearted toward me?
- CLEOPATRA. Ah, dear, if I be so,
- From my cold heart let heaven engender hail,
- And poison it in the source, and the first stone
- Drop in my neck; as it determines, so
- Dissolve my life! The next Caesarion smite!
- Till by degrees the memory of my womb,
- Together with my brave Egyptians all,
- By the discandying of this pelleted storm,
- Lie graveless, till the flies and gnats of Nile
- Have buried them for prey.
- ANTONY. I am satisfied.
- Caesar sits down in Alexandria, where
- I will oppose his fate. Our force by land
- Hath nobly held; our sever'd navy to
- Have knit again, and fleet, threat'ning most sea-like.
- Where hast thou been, my heart? Dost thou hear, lady?
- If from the field I shall return once more
- To kiss these lips, I will appear in blood.
- I and my sword will earn our chronicle.
- There's hope in't yet.
- CLEOPATRA. That's my brave lord!
- ANTONY. I will be treble-sinew'd, hearted, breath'd,
- And fight maliciously. For when mine hours
- Were nice and lucky, men did ransom lives
- Of me for jests; but now I'll set my teeth,
- And send to darkness all that stop me. Come,
- Let's have one other gaudy night. Call to me
- All my sad captains; fill our bowls once more;
- Let's mock the midnight bell.
- CLEOPATRA. It is my birthday.
- I had thought t'have held it poor; but since my lord
- Is Antony again, I will be Cleopatra.
- ANTONY. We will yet do well.
- CLEOPATRA. Call all his noble captains to my lord.
- ANTONY. Do so, we'll speak to them; and to-night I'll force
- The wine peep through their scars. Come on, my queen,
- There's sap in't yet. The next time I do fight
- I'll make death love me; for I will contend
- Even with his pestilent scythe. Exeunt all but ENOBARBUS
- ENOBARBUS. Now he'll outstare the lightning. To be furious
- Is to be frighted out of fear, and in that mood
- The dove will peck the estridge; and I see still
- A diminution in our captain's brain
- Restores his heart. When valour preys on reason,
- It eats the sword it fights with. I will seek
- Some way to leave him. Exit
-
-ACT_4|SC_1
- ACT IV. SCENE I.
- CAESAR'S camp before Alexandria
-
- Enter CAESAR, AGRIPPA, and MAECENAS, with his army;
- CAESAR reading a letter
-
- CAESAR. He calls me boy, and chides as he had power
- To beat me out of Egypt. My messenger
- He hath whipt with rods; dares me to personal combat,
- Caesar to Antony. Let the old ruffian know
- I have many other ways to die, meantime
- Laugh at his challenge.
- MAECENAS. Caesar must think
- When one so great begins to rage, he's hunted
- Even to falling. Give him no breath, but now
- Make boot of his distraction. Never anger
- Made good guard for itself.
- CAESAR. Let our best heads
- Know that to-morrow the last of many battles
- We mean to fight. Within our files there are
- Of those that serv'd Mark Antony but late
- Enough to fetch him in. See it done;
- And feast the army; we have store to do't,
- And they have earn'd the waste. Poor Antony! Exeunt
-
-ACT_4|SC_2
- SCENE II.
- Alexandria. CLEOPATRA's palace
-
- Enter ANTONY, CLEOPATRA, ENOBARBUS, CHARMIAN, IRAS,
- ALEXAS, with others
-
- ANTONY. He will not fight with me, Domitius?
- ENOBARBUS. No.
- ANTONY. Why should he not?
- ENOBARBUS. He thinks, being twenty times of better fortune,
- He is twenty men to one.
- ANTONY. To-morrow, soldier,
- By sea and land I'll fight. Or I will live,
- Or bathe my dying honour in the blood
- Shall make it live again. Woo't thou fight well?
- ENOBARBUS. I'll strike, and cry 'Take all.'
- ANTONY. Well said; come on.
- Call forth my household servants; let's to-night
- Be bounteous at our meal.
-
- Enter three or four servitors
-
- Give me thy hand,
- Thou has been rightly honest. So hast thou;
- Thou, and thou, and thou. You have serv'd me well,
- And kings have been your fellows.
- CLEOPATRA. [Aside to ENOBARBUS] What means this?
- ENOBARBUS. [Aside to CLEOPATRA] 'Tis one of those odd tricks which
- sorrow shoots
- Out of the mind.
- ANTONY. And thou art honest too.
- I wish I could be made so many men,
- And all of you clapp'd up together in
- An Antony, that I might do you service
- So good as you have done.
- SERVANT. The gods forbid!
- ANTONY. Well, my good fellows, wait on me to-night.
- Scant not my cups, and make as much of me
- As when mine empire was your fellow too,
- And suffer'd my command.
- CLEOPATRA. [Aside to ENOBARBUS] What does he mean?
- ENOBARBUS. [Aside to CLEOPATRA] To make his followers weep.
- ANTONY. Tend me to-night;
- May be it is the period of your duty.
- Haply you shall not see me more; or if,
- A mangled shadow. Perchance to-morrow
- You'll serve another master. I look on you
- As one that takes his leave. Mine honest friends,
- I turn you not away; but, like a master
- Married to your good service, stay till death.
- Tend me to-night two hours, I ask no more,
- And the gods yield you for't!
- ENOBARBUS. What mean you, sir,
- To give them this discomfort? Look, they weep;
- And I, an ass, am onion-ey'd. For shame!
- Transform us not to women.
- ANTONY. Ho, ho, ho!
- Now the witch take me if I meant it thus!
- Grace grow where those drops fall! My hearty friends,
- You take me in too dolorous a sense;
- For I spake to you for your comfort, did desire you
- To burn this night with torches. Know, my hearts,
- I hope well of to-morrow, and will lead you
- Where rather I'll expect victorious life
- Than death and honour. Let's to supper, come,
- And drown consideration. Exeunt
-
-ACT_4|SC_3
- SCENE III.
- Alexandria. Before CLEOPATRA's palace
-
- Enter a company of soldiers
-
- FIRST SOLDIER. Brother, good night. To-morrow is the day.
- SECOND SOLDIER. It will determine one way. Fare you well.
- Heard you of nothing strange about the streets?
- FIRST SOLDIER. Nothing. What news?
- SECOND SOLDIER. Belike 'tis but a rumour. Good night to you.
- FIRST SOLDIER. Well, sir, good night.
- [They meet other soldiers]
- SECOND SOLDIER. Soldiers, have careful watch.
- FIRST SOLDIER. And you. Good night, good night.
- [The two companies separate and place themselves
- in every corner of the stage]
- SECOND SOLDIER. Here we. And if to-morrow
- Our navy thrive, I have an absolute hope
- Our landmen will stand up.
- THIRD SOLDIER. 'Tis a brave army,
- And full of purpose.
- [Music of the hautboys is under the stage]
- SECOND SOLDIER. Peace, what noise?
- THIRD SOLDIER. List, list!
- SECOND SOLDIER. Hark!
- THIRD SOLDIER. Music i' th' air.
- FOURTH SOLDIER. Under the earth.
- THIRD SOLDIER. It signs well, does it not?
- FOURTH SOLDIER. No.
- THIRD SOLDIER. Peace, I say!
- What should this mean?
- SECOND SOLDIER. 'Tis the god Hercules, whom Antony lov'd,
- Now leaves him.
- THIRD SOLDIER. Walk; let's see if other watchmen
- Do hear what we do.
- SECOND SOLDIER. How now, masters!
- SOLDIERS. [Speaking together] How now!
- How now! Do you hear this?
- FIRST SOLDIER. Ay; is't not strange?
- THIRD SOLDIER. Do you hear, masters? Do you hear?
- FIRST SOLDIER. Follow the noise so far as we have quarter;
- Let's see how it will give off.
- SOLDIERS. Content. 'Tis strange. Exeunt
-
-ACT_4|SC_4
- SCENE IV.
- Alexandria. CLEOPATRA's palace
-
- Enter ANTONY and CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS,
- with others
-
- ANTONY. Eros! mine armour, Eros!
- CLEOPATRA. Sleep a little.
- ANTONY. No, my chuck. Eros! Come, mine armour, Eros!
-
- Enter EROS with armour
-
- Come, good fellow, put mine iron on.
- If fortune be not ours to-day, it is
- Because we brave her. Come.
- CLEOPATRA. Nay, I'll help too.
- What's this for?
- ANTONY. Ah, let be, let be! Thou art
- The armourer of my heart. False, false; this, this.
- CLEOPATRA. Sooth, la, I'll help. Thus it must be.
- ANTONY. Well, well;
- We shall thrive now. Seest thou, my good fellow?
- Go put on thy defences.
- EROS. Briefly, sir.
- CLEOPATRA. Is not this buckled well?
- ANTONY. Rarely, rarely!
- He that unbuckles this, till we do please
- To daff't for our repose, shall hear a storm.
- Thou fumblest, Eros, and my queen's a squire
- More tight at this than thou. Dispatch. O love,
- That thou couldst see my wars to-day, and knew'st
- The royal occupation! Thou shouldst see
- A workman in't.
-
- Enter an armed SOLDIER
-
- Good-morrow to thee. Welcome.
- Thou look'st like him that knows a warlike charge.
- To business that we love we rise betime,
- And go to't with delight.
- SOLDIER. A thousand, sir,
- Early though't be, have on their riveted trim,
- And at the port expect you.
- [Shout. Flourish of trumpets within]
-
- Enter CAPTAINS and soldiers
-
- CAPTAIN. The morn is fair. Good morrow, General.
- ALL. Good morrow, General.
- ANTONY. 'Tis well blown, lads.
- This morning, like the spirit of a youth
- That means to be of note, begins betimes.
- So, so. Come, give me that. This way. Well said.
- Fare thee well, dame, whate'er becomes of me.
- This is a soldier's kiss. Rebukeable,
- And worthy shameful check it were, to stand
- On more mechanic compliment; I'll leave thee
- Now like a man of steel. You that will fight,
- Follow me close; I'll bring you to't. Adieu.
- Exeunt ANTONY, EROS, CAPTAINS and soldiers
- CHARMIAN. Please you retire to your chamber?
- CLEOPATRA. Lead me.
- He goes forth gallantly. That he and Caesar might
- Determine this great war in single fight!
- Then, Antony- but now. Well, on. Exeunt
-
-ACT_4|SC_5
- SCENE V.
- Alexandria. ANTONY'S camp
-
- Trumpets sound. Enter ANTONY and EROS, a SOLDIER
- meeting them
-
- SOLDIER. The gods make this a happy day to Antony!
- ANTONY. Would thou and those thy scars had once prevail'd
- To make me fight at land!
- SOLDIER. Hadst thou done so,
- The kings that have revolted, and the soldier
- That has this morning left thee, would have still
- Followed thy heels.
- ANTONY. Who's gone this morning?
- SOLDIER. Who?
- One ever near thee. Call for Enobarbus,
- He shall not hear thee; or from Caesar's camp
- Say 'I am none of thine.'
- ANTONY. What say'st thou?
- SOLDIER. Sir,
- He is with Caesar.
- EROS. Sir, his chests and treasure
- He has not with him.
- ANTONY. Is he gone?
- SOLDIER. Most certain.
- ANTONY. Go, Eros, send his treasure after; do it;
- Detain no jot, I charge thee. Write to him-
- I will subscribe- gentle adieus and greetings;
- Say that I wish he never find more cause
- To change a master. O, my fortunes have
- Corrupted honest men! Dispatch. Enobarbus! Exeunt
-
-ACT_4|SC_6
- SCENE VI.
- Alexandria. CAESAR'S camp
-
- Flourish. Enter AGRIPPA, CAESAR, With DOLABELLA
- and ENOBARBUS
-
- CAESAR. Go forth, Agrippa, and begin the fight.
- Our will is Antony be took alive;
- Make it so known.
- AGRIPPA. Caesar, I shall. Exit
- CAESAR. The time of universal peace is near.
- Prove this a prosp'rous day, the three-nook'd world
- Shall bear the olive freely.
-
- Enter A MESSENGER
-
- MESSENGER. Antony
- Is come into the field.
- CAESAR. Go charge Agrippa
- Plant those that have revolted in the vant,
- That Antony may seem to spend his fury
- Upon himself. Exeunt all but ENOBARBUS
- ENOBARBUS. Alexas did revolt and went to Jewry on
- Affairs of Antony; there did dissuade
- Great Herod to incline himself to Caesar
- And leave his master Antony. For this pains
- Casaer hath hang'd him. Canidius and the rest
- That fell away have entertainment, but
- No honourable trust. I have done ill,
- Of which I do accuse myself so sorely
- That I will joy no more.
-
- Enter a SOLDIER of CAESAR'S
-
- SOLDIER. Enobarbus, Antony
- Hath after thee sent all thy treasure, with
- His bounty overplus. The messenger
- Came on my guard, and at thy tent is now
- Unloading of his mules.
- ENOBARBUS. I give it you.
- SOLDIER. Mock not, Enobarbus.
- I tell you true. Best you saf'd the bringer
- Out of the host. I must attend mine office,
- Or would have done't myself. Your emperor
- Continues still a Jove. Exit
- ENOBARBUS. I am alone the villain of the earth,
- And feel I am so most. O Antony,
- Thou mine of bounty, how wouldst thou have paid
- My better service, when my turpitude
- Thou dost so crown with gold! This blows my heart.
- If swift thought break it not, a swifter mean
- Shall outstrike thought; but thought will do't, I feel.
- I fight against thee? No! I will go seek
- Some ditch wherein to die; the foul'st best fits
- My latter part of life. Exit
-
-ACT_4|SC_7
- SCENE VII.
- Field of battle between the camps
-
- Alarum. Drums and trumpets. Enter AGRIPPA
- and others
-
- AGRIPPA. Retire. We have engag'd ourselves too far.
- Caesar himself has work, and our oppression
- Exceeds what we expected. Exeunt
-
- Alarums. Enter ANTONY, and SCARUS wounded
-
- SCARUS. O my brave Emperor, this is fought indeed!
- Had we done so at first, we had droven them home
- With clouts about their heads.
- ANTONY. Thou bleed'st apace.
- SCARUS. I had a wound here that was like a T,
- But now 'tis made an H.
- ANTONY. They do retire.
- SCARUS. We'll beat'em into bench-holes. I have yet
- Room for six scotches more.
-
- Enter EROS
-
- EROS. They are beaten, sir, and our advantage serves
- For a fair victory.
- SCARUS. Let us score their backs
- And snatch 'em up, as we take hares, behind.
- 'Tis sport to maul a runner.
- ANTONY. I will reward thee
- Once for thy sprightly comfort, and tenfold
- For thy good valour. Come thee on.
- SCARUS. I'll halt after. Exeunt
-
-ACT_4|SC_8
- SCENE VIII.
- Under the walls of Alexandria
-
- Alarum. Enter ANTONY, again in a march; SCARUS
- with others
-
- ANTONY. We have beat him to his camp. Run one before
- And let the Queen know of our gests. To-morrow,
- Before the sun shall see's, we'll spill the blood
- That has to-day escap'd. I thank you all;
- For doughty-handed are you, and have fought
- Not as you serv'd the cause, but as't had been
- Each man's like mine; you have shown all Hectors.
- Enter the city, clip your wives, your friends,
- Tell them your feats; whilst they with joyful tears
- Wash the congealment from your wounds and kiss
- The honour'd gashes whole.
-
- Enter CLEOPATRA, attended
-
- [To SCARUS] Give me thy hand-
- To this great fairy I'll commend thy acts,
- Make her thanks bless thee. O thou day o' th' world,
- Chain mine arm'd neck. Leap thou, attire and all,
- Through proof of harness to my heart, and there
- Ride on the pants triumphing.
- CLEOPATRA. Lord of lords!
- O infinite virtue, com'st thou smiling from
- The world's great snare uncaught?
- ANTONY. Mine nightingale,
- We have beat them to their beds. What, girl! though grey
- Do something mingle with our younger brown, yet ha' we
- A brain that nourishes our nerves, and can
- Get goal for goal of youth. Behold this man;
- Commend unto his lips thy favouring hand-
- Kiss it, my warrior- he hath fought to-day
- As if a god in hate of mankind had
- Destroyed in such a shape.
- CLEOPATRA. I'll give thee, friend,
- An armour all of gold; it was a king's.
- ANTONY. He has deserv'd it, were it carbuncled
- Like holy Phoebus' car. Give me thy hand.
- Through Alexandria make a jolly march;
- Bear our hack'd targets like the men that owe them.
- Had our great palace the capacity
- To camp this host, we all would sup together,
- And drink carouses to the next day's fate,
- Which promises royal peril. Trumpeters,
- With brazen din blast you the city's ear;
- Make mingle with our rattling tabourines,
- That heaven and earth may strike their sounds together
- Applauding our approach. Exeunt
-
-ACT_4|SC_9
- SCENE IX.
- CAESAR'S camp
-
- Enter a CENTURION and his company; ENOBARBUS follows
-
- CENTURION. If we be not reliev'd within this hour,
- We must return to th' court of guard. The night
- Is shiny, and they say we shall embattle
- By th' second hour i' th' morn.
- FIRST WATCH. This last day was
- A shrewd one to's.
- ENOBARBUS. O, bear me witness, night-
- SECOND WATCH. What man is this?
- FIRST WATCH. Stand close and list him.
- ENOBARBUS. Be witness to me, O thou blessed moon,
- When men revolted shall upon record
- Bear hateful memory, poor Enobarbus did
- Before thy face repent!
- CENTURION. Enobarbus?
- SECOND WATCH. Peace!
- Hark further.
- ENOBARBUS. O sovereign mistress of true melancholy,
- The poisonous damp of night disponge upon me,
- That life, a very rebel to my will,
- May hang no longer on me. Throw my heart
- Against the flint and hardness of my fault,
- Which, being dried with grief, will break to powder,
- And finish all foul thoughts. O Antony,
- Nobler than my revolt is infamous,
- Forgive me in thine own particular,
- But let the world rank me in register
- A master-leaver and a fugitive!
- O Antony! O Antony! [Dies]
- FIRST WATCH. Let's speak to him.
- CENTURION. Let's hear him, for the things he speaks
- May concern Caesar.
- SECOND WATCH. Let's do so. But he sleeps.
- CENTURION. Swoons rather; for so bad a prayer as his
- Was never yet for sleep.
- FIRST WATCH. Go we to him.
- SECOND WATCH. Awake, sir, awake; speak to us.
- FIRST WATCH. Hear you, sir?
- CENTURION. The hand of death hath raught him.
- [Drums afar off ] Hark! the drums
- Demurely wake the sleepers. Let us bear him
- To th' court of guard; he is of note. Our hour
- Is fully out.
- SECOND WATCH. Come on, then;
- He may recover yet. Exeunt with the body
-
-ACT_4|SC_10
- SCENE X.
- Between the two camps
-
- Enter ANTONY and SCARUS, with their army
-
- ANTONY. Their preparation is to-day by sea;
- We please them not by land.
- SCARUS. For both, my lord.
- ANTONY. I would they'd fight i' th' fire or i' th' air;
- We'd fight there too. But this it is, our foot
- Upon the hills adjoining to the city
- Shall stay with us- Order for sea is given;
- They have put forth the haven-
- Where their appointment we may best discover
- And look on their endeavour. Exeunt
-
-ACT_4|SC_11
- SCENE XI.
- Between the camps
-
- Enter CAESAR and his army
-
- CAESAR. But being charg'd, we will be still by land,
- Which, as I take't, we shall; for his best force
- Is forth to man his galleys. To the vales,
- And hold our best advantage. Exeunt
-
-ACT_4|SC_12
- SCENE XII.
- A hill near Alexandria
-
- Enter ANTONY and SCARUS
-
- ANTONY. Yet they are not join'd. Where yond pine does stand
- I shall discover all. I'll bring thee word
- Straight how 'tis like to go. Exit
- SCARUS. Swallows have built
- In Cleopatra's sails their nests. The augurers
- Say they know not, they cannot tell; look grimly,
- And dare not speak their knowledge. Antony
- Is valiant and dejected; and by starts
- His fretted fortunes give him hope and fear
- Of what he has and has not.
- [Alarum afar off, as at a sea-fight]
-
- Re-enter ANTONY
-
- ANTONY. All is lost!
- This foul Egyptian hath betrayed me.
- My fleet hath yielded to the foe, and yonder
- They cast their caps up and carouse together
- Like friends long lost. Triple-turn'd whore! 'tis thou
- Hast sold me to this novice; and my heart
- Makes only wars on thee. Bid them all fly;
- For when I am reveng'd upon my charm,
- I have done all. Bid them all fly; begone. Exit SCARUS
- O sun, thy uprise shall I see no more!
- Fortune and Antony part here; even here
- Do we shake hands. All come to this? The hearts
- That spaniel'd me at heels, to whom I gave
- Their wishes, do discandy, melt their sweets
- On blossoming Caesar; and this pine is bark'd
- That overtopp'd them all. Betray'd I am.
- O this false soul of Egypt! this grave charm-
- Whose eye beck'd forth my wars and call'd them home,
- Whose bosom was my crownet, my chief end-
- Like a right gypsy hath at fast and loose
- Beguil'd me to the very heart of loss.
- What, Eros, Eros!
-
- Enter CLEOPATRA
-
- Ah, thou spell! Avaunt!
- CLEOPATRA. Why is my lord enrag'd against his love?
- ANTONY. Vanish, or I shall give thee thy deserving
- And blemish Caesar's triumph. Let him take thee
- And hoist thee up to the shouting plebeians;
- Follow his chariot, like the greatest spot
- Of all thy sex; most monster-like, be shown
- For poor'st diminutives, for doits, and let
- Patient Octavia plough thy visage up
- With her prepared nails. Exit CLEOPATRA
- 'Tis well th'art gone,
- If it be well to live; but better 'twere
- Thou fell'st into my fury, for one death
- Might have prevented many. Eros, ho!
- The shirt of Nessus is upon me; teach me,
- Alcides, thou mine ancestor, thy rage;
- Let me lodge Lichas on the horns o' th' moon,
- And with those hands that grasp'd the heaviest club
- Subdue my worthiest self. The witch shall die.
- To the young Roman boy she hath sold me, and I fall
- Under this plot. She dies for't. Eros, ho! Exit
-
-ACT_4|SC_13
- SCENE XIII.
- Alexandria. CLEOPATRA's palace
-
- Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and MARDIAN
-
- CLEOPATRA. Help me, my women. O, he is more mad
- Than Telamon for his shield; the boar of Thessaly
- Was never so emboss'd.
- CHARMIAN. To th'monument!
- There lock yourself, and send him word you are dead.
- The soul and body rive not more in parting
- Than greatness going off.
- CLEOPATRA. To th' monument!
- Mardian, go tell him I have slain myself;
- Say that the last I spoke was 'Antony'
- And word it, prithee, piteously. Hence, Mardian,
- And bring me how he takes my death. To th' monument!
- Exeunt
-
-ACT_4|SC_14
- SCENE XIV.
- CLEOPATRA'S palace
-
- Enter ANTONY and EROS
-
- ANTONY. Eros, thou yet behold'st me?
- EROS. Ay, noble lord.
- ANTONY. Sometime we see a cloud that's dragonish;
- A vapour sometime like a bear or lion,
- A tower'd citadel, a pendent rock,
- A forked mountain, or blue promontory
- With trees upon't that nod unto the world
- And mock our eyes with air. Thou hast seen these signs;
- They are black vesper's pageants.
- EROS. Ay, my lord.
- ANTONY. That which is now a horse, even with a thought
- The rack dislimns, and makes it indistinct,
- As water is in water.
- EROS. It does, my lord.
- ANTONY. My good knave Eros, now thy captain is
- Even such a body. Here I am Antony;
- Yet cannot hold this visible shape, my knave.
- I made these wars for Egypt; and the Queen-
- Whose heart I thought I had, for she had mine,
- Which, whilst it was mine, had annex'd unto't
- A million moe, now lost- she, Eros, has
- Pack'd cards with Caesar, and false-play'd my glory
- Unto an enemy's triumph.
- Nay, weep not, gentle Eros; there is left us
- Ourselves to end ourselves.
-
- Enter MARDIAN
-
- O, thy vile lady!
- She has robb'd me of my sword.
- MARDIAN. No, Antony;
- My mistress lov'd thee, and her fortunes mingled
- With thine entirely.
- ANTONY. Hence, saucy eunuch; peace!
- She hath betray'd me, and shall die the death.
- MARDIAN. Death of one person can be paid but once,
- And that she has discharg'd. What thou wouldst do
- Is done unto thy hand. The last she spake
- Was 'Antony! most noble Antony!'
- Then in the midst a tearing groan did break
- The name of Antony; it was divided
- Between her heart and lips. She rend'red life,
- Thy name so buried in her.
- ANTONY. Dead then?
- MARDIAN. Dead.
- ANTONY. Unarm, Eros; the long day's task is done,
- And we must sleep. That thou depart'st hence safe
- Does pay thy labour richly. Go. Exit MARDIAN
- Off, pluck off!
- The sevenfold shield of Ajax cannot keep
- The battery from my heart. O, cleave, my sides!
- Heart, once be stronger than thy continent,
- Crack thy frail case. Apace, Eros, apace.-
- No more a soldier. Bruised pieces, go;
- You have been nobly borne.- From me awhile. Exit EROS
- I will o'ertake thee, Cleopatra, and
- Weep for my pardon. So it must be, for now
- All length is torture. Since the torch is out,
- Lie down, and stray no farther. Now all labour
- Mars what it does; yea, very force entangles
- Itself with strength. Seal then, and all is done.
- Eros!- I come, my queen.- Eros!- Stay for me;
- Where souls do couch on flowers, we'll hand in hand,
- And with our sprightly port make the ghosts gaze.
- Dido and her Aeneas shall want troops,
- And all the haunt be ours.- Come, Eros, Eros!
-
- Re-enter EROS
-
- EROS. What would my lord?
- ANTONY. Since Cleopatra died,
- I have liv'd in such dishonour that the gods
- Detest my baseness. I, that with my sword
- Quarter'd the world, and o'er green Neptune's back
- With ships made cities, condemn myself to lack
- The courage of a woman; less noble mind
- Than she which by her death our Caesar tells
- 'I am conqueror of myself.' Thou art sworn, Eros,
- That, when the exigent should come- which now
- Is come indeed- when I should see behind me
- Th' inevitable prosecution of
- Disgrace and horror, that, on my command,
- Thou then wouldst kill me. Do't; the time is come.
- Thou strik'st not me; 'tis Caesar thou defeat'st.
- Put colour in thy cheek.
- EROS. The gods withhold me!
- Shall I do that which all the Parthian darts,
- Though enemy, lost aim and could not?
- ANTONY. Eros,
- Wouldst thou be window'd in great Rome and see
- Thy master thus with pleach'd arms, bending down
- His corrigible neck, his face subdu'd
- To penetrative shame, whilst the wheel'd seat
- Of fortunate Caesar, drawn before him, branded
- His baseness that ensued?
- EROS. I would not see't.
- ANTONY. Come, then; for with a wound I must be cur'd.
- Draw that thy honest sword, which thou hast worn
- Most useful for thy country.
- EROS. O, sir, pardon me!
- ANTONY. When I did make thee free, swor'st thou not then
- To do this when I bade thee? Do it at once,
- Or thy precedent services are all
- But accidents unpurpos'd. Draw, and come.
- EROS. Turn from me then that noble countenance,
- Wherein the worship of the whole world lies.
- ANTONY. Lo thee! [Turning from him]
- EROS. My sword is drawn.
- ANTONY. Then let it do at once
- The thing why thou hast drawn it.
- EROS. My dear master,
- My captain and my emperor, let me say,
- Before I strike this bloody stroke, farewell.
- ANTONY. 'Tis said, man; and farewell.
- EROS. Farewell, great chief. Shall I strike now?
- ANTONY. Now, Eros.
- EROS. Why, there then! Thus do I escape the sorrow
- Of Antony's death. [Kills himself
- ANTONY. Thrice nobler than myself!
- Thou teachest me, O valiant Eros, what
- I should, and thou couldst not. My queen and Eros
- Have, by their brave instruction, got upon me
- A nobleness in record. But I will be
- A bridegroom in my death, and run into't
- As to a lover's bed. Come, then; and, Eros,
- Thy master dies thy scholar. To do thus
- [Falling on his sword]
- I learn'd of thee. How? not dead? not dead?-
- The guard, ho! O, dispatch me!
-
- Enter DERCETAS and a guard
-
- FIRST GUARD. What's the noise?
- ANTONY. I have done my work ill, friends. O, make an end
- Of what I have begun.
- SECOND GUARD. The star is fall'n.
- FIRST GUARD. And time is at his period.
- ALL. Alas, and woe!
- ANTONY. Let him that loves me, strike me dead.
- FIRST GUARD. Not I.
- SECOND GUARD. Nor I.
- THIRD GUARD. Nor any one. Exeunt guard
- DERCETAS. Thy death and fortunes bid thy followers fly.
- This sword but shown to Caesar, with this tidings,
- Shall enter me with him.
-
- Enter DIOMEDES
-
- DIOMEDES. Where's Antony?
- DERCETAS. There, Diomed, there.
- DIOMEDES. Lives he?
- Wilt thou not answer, man? Exit DERCETAS
- ANTONY. Art thou there, Diomed? Draw thy sword and give me
- Sufficing strokes for death.
- DIOMEDES. Most absolute lord,
- My mistress Cleopatra sent me to thee.
- ANTONY. When did she send thee?
- DIOMEDES. Now, my lord.
- ANTONY. Where is she?
- DIOMEDES. Lock'd in her monument. She had a prophesying fear
- Of what hath come to pass; for when she saw-
- Which never shall be found- you did suspect
- She had dispos'd with Caesar, and that your rage
- Would not be purg'd, she sent you word she was dead;
- But fearing since how it might work, hath sent
- Me to proclaim the truth; and I am come,
- I dread, too late.
- ANTONY. Too late, good Diomed. Call my guard, I prithee.
- DIOMEDES. What, ho! the Emperor's guard! The guard, what ho!
- Come, your lord calls!
-
- Enter four or five of the guard of ANTONY
-
- ANTONY. Bear me, good friends, where Cleopatra bides;
- 'Tis the last service that I shall command you.
- FIRST GUARD. Woe, woe are we, sir, you may not live to wear
- All your true followers out.
- ALL. Most heavy day!
- ANTONY. Nay, good my fellows, do not please sharp fate
- To grace it with your sorrows. Bid that welcome
- Which comes to punish us, and we punish it,
- Seeming to bear it lightly. Take me up.
- I have led you oft; carry me now, good friends,
- And have my thanks for all. Exeunt, hearing ANTONY
-ACT_4|SC_15
- SCENE XV.
- Alexandria. A monument
-
- Enter CLEOPATRA and her maids aloft, with CHARMIAN
- and IRAS
-
- CLEOPATRA. O Charmian, I will never go from hence!
- CHARMIAN. Be comforted, dear madam.
- CLEOPATRA. No, I will not.
- All strange and terrible events are welcome,
- But comforts we despise; our size of sorrow,
- Proportion'd to our cause, must be as great
- As that which makes it.
-
- Enter DIOMEDES, below
-
- How now! Is he dead?
- DIOMEDES. His death's upon him, but not dead.
- Look out o' th' other side your monument;
- His guard have brought him thither.
-
- Enter, below, ANTONY, borne by the guard
-
- CLEOPATRA. O sun,
- Burn the great sphere thou mov'st in! Darkling stand
- The varying shore o' th' world. O Antony,
- Antony, Antony! Help, Charmian; help, Iras, help;
- Help, friends below! Let's draw him hither.
- ANTONY. Peace!
- Not Caesar's valour hath o'erthrown Antony,
- But Antony's hath triumph'd on itself.
- CLEOPATRA. So it should be, that none but Antony
- Should conquer Antony; but woe 'tis so!
- ANTONY. I am dying, Egypt, dying; only
- I here importune death awhile, until
- Of many thousand kisses the poor last
- I lay upon thy lips.
- CLEOPATRA. I dare not, dear.
- Dear my lord, pardon! I dare not,
- Lest I be taken. Not th' imperious show
- Of the full-fortun'd Caesar ever shall
- Be brooch'd with me. If knife, drugs, serpents, have
- Edge, sting, or operation, I am safe.
- Your wife Octavia, with her modest eyes
- And still conclusion, shall acquire no honour
- Demuring upon me. But come, come, Antony-
- Help me, my women- we must draw thee up;
- Assist, good friends.
- ANTONY. O, quick, or I am gone.
- CLEOPATRA. Here's sport indeed! How heavy weighs my lord!
- Our strength is all gone into heaviness;
- That makes the weight. Had I great Juno's power,
- The strong-wing'd Mercury should fetch thee up,
- And set thee by Jove's side. Yet come a little.
- Wishers were ever fools. O come, come,
- [They heave ANTONY aloft to CLEOPATRA]
- And welcome, welcome! Die where thou hast liv'd.
- Quicken with kissing. Had my lips that power,
- Thus would I wear them out.
- ALL. A heavy sight!
- ANTONY. I am dying, Egypt, dying.
- Give me some wine, and let me speak a little.
- CLEOPATRA. No, let me speak; and let me rail so high
- That the false huswife Fortune break her wheel,
- Provok'd by my offence.
- ANTONY. One word, sweet queen:
- Of Caesar seek your honour, with your safety. O!
- CLEOPATRA. They do not go together.
- ANTONY. Gentle, hear me:
- None about Caesar trust but Proculeius.
- CLEOPATRA. My resolution and my hands I'll trust;
- None about Caesar
- ANTONY. The miserable change now at my end
- Lament nor sorrow at; but please your thoughts
- In feeding them with those my former fortunes
- Wherein I liv'd the greatest prince o' th' world,
- The noblest; and do now not basely die,
- Not cowardly put off my helmet to
- My countryman- a Roman by a Roman
- Valiantly vanquish'd. Now my spirit is going
- I can no more.
- CLEOPATRA. Noblest of men, woo't die?
- Hast thou no care of me? Shall I abide
- In this dull world, which in thy absence is
- No better than a sty? O, see, my women, [Antony dies]
- The crown o' th' earth doth melt. My lord!
- O, wither'd is the garland of the war,
- The soldier's pole is fall'n! Young boys and girls
- Are level now with men. The odds is gone,
- And there is nothing left remarkable
- Beneath the visiting moon. [Swoons]
- CHARMIAN. O, quietness, lady!
- IRAS. She's dead too, our sovereign.
- CHARMIAN. Lady!
- IRAS. Madam!
- CHARMIAN. O madam, madam, madam!
- IRAS. Royal Egypt, Empress!
- CHARMIAN. Peace, peace, Iras!
- CLEOPATRA. No more but e'en a woman, and commanded
- By such poor passion as the maid that milks
- And does the meanest chares. It were for me
- To throw my sceptre at the injurious gods;
- To tell them that this world did equal theirs
- Till they had stol'n our jewel. All's but nought;
- Patience is sottish, and impatience does
- Become a dog that's mad. Then is it sin
- To rush into the secret house of death
- Ere death dare come to us? How do you, women?
- What, what! good cheer! Why, how now, Charmian!
- My noble girls! Ah, women, women, look,
- Our lamp is spent, it's out! Good sirs, take heart.
- We'll bury him; and then, what's brave, what's noble,
- Let's do it after the high Roman fashion,
- And make death proud to take us. Come, away;
- This case of that huge spirit now is cold.
- Ah, women, women! Come; we have no friend
- But resolution and the briefest end.
- Exeunt; those above hearing off ANTONY'S body
-
-ACT_5|SC_1
- ACT V. SCENE I.
- Alexandria. CAESAR'S camp
-
- Enter CAESAR, AGRIPPA, DOLABELLA, MAECENAS, GALLUS,
- PROCULEIUS, and others, his Council of War
-
- CAESAR. Go to him, Dolabella, bid him yield;
- Being so frustrate, tell him he mocks
- The pauses that he makes.
- DOLABELLA. Caesar, I shall. Exit
-
- Enter DERCETAS With the sword of ANTONY
-
- CAESAR. Wherefore is that? And what art thou that dar'st
- Appear thus to us?
- DERCETAS. I am call'd Dercetas;
- Mark Antony I serv'd, who best was worthy
- Best to be serv'd. Whilst he stood up and spoke,
- He was my master, and I wore my life
- To spend upon his haters. If thou please
- To take me to thee, as I was to him
- I'll be to Caesar; if thou pleasest not,
- I yield thee up my life.
- CAESAR. What is't thou say'st?
- DERCETAS. I say, O Caesar, Antony is dead.
- CAESAR. The breaking of so great a thing should make
- A greater crack. The round world
- Should have shook lions into civil streets,
- And citizens to their dens. The death of Antony
- Is not a single doom; in the name lay
- A moiety of the world.
- DERCETAS. He is dead, Caesar,
- Not by a public minister of justice,
- Nor by a hired knife; but that self hand
- Which writ his honour in the acts it did
- Hath, with the courage which the heart did lend it,
- Splitted the heart. This is his sword;
- I robb'd his wound of it; behold it stain'd
- With his most noble blood.
- CAESAR. Look you sad, friends?
- The gods rebuke me, but it is tidings
- To wash the eyes of kings.
- AGRIPPA. And strange it is
- That nature must compel us to lament
- Our most persisted deeds.
- MAECENAS. His taints and honours
- Wag'd equal with him.
- AGRIPPA. A rarer spirit never
- Did steer humanity. But you gods will give us
- Some faults to make us men. Caesar is touch'd.
- MAECENAS. When such a spacious mirror's set before him,
- He needs must see himself.
- CAESAR. O Antony,
- I have follow'd thee to this! But we do lance
- Diseases in our bodies. I must perforce
- Have shown to thee such a declining day
- Or look on thine; we could not stall together
- In the whole world. But yet let me lament,
- With tears as sovereign as the blood of hearts,
- That thou, my brother, my competitor
- In top of all design, my mate in empire,
- Friend and companion in the front of war,
- The arm of mine own body, and the heart
- Where mine his thoughts did kindle- that our stars,
- Unreconciliable, should divide
- Our equalness to this. Hear me, good friends-
-
- Enter an EGYPTIAN
-
- But I will tell you at some meeter season.
- The business of this man looks out of him;
- We'll hear him what he says. Whence are you?
- EGYPTIAN. A poor Egyptian, yet the Queen, my mistress,
- Confin'd in all she has, her monument,
- Of thy intents desires instruction,
- That she preparedly may frame herself
- To th' way she's forc'd to.
- CAESAR. Bid her have good heart.
- She soon shall know of us, by some of ours,
- How honourable and how kindly we
- Determine for her; for Caesar cannot learn
- To be ungentle.
- EGYPTIAN. So the gods preserve thee! Exit
- CAESAR. Come hither, Proculeius. Go and say
- We purpose her no shame. Give her what comforts
- The quality of her passion shall require,
- Lest, in her greatness, by some mortal stroke
- She do defeat us; for her life in Rome
- Would be eternal in our triumph. Go,
- And with your speediest bring us what she says,
- And how you find her.
- PROCULEIUS. Caesar, I shall. Exit
- CAESAR. Gallus, go you along. Exit GALLUS
- Where's Dolabella, to second Proculeius?
- ALL. Dolabella!
- CAESAR. Let him alone, for I remember now
- How he's employ'd; he shall in time be ready.
- Go with me to my tent, where you shall see
- How hardly I was drawn into this war,
- How calm and gentle I proceeded still
- In all my writings. Go with me, and see
- What I can show in this. Exeunt
-
-ACT_5|SC_2
- SCENE II.
- Alexandria. The monument
-
- Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and MARDIAN
-
- CLEOPATRA. My desolation does begin to make
- A better life. 'Tis paltry to be Caesar:
- Not being Fortune, he's but Fortune's knave,
- A minister of her will; and it is great
- To do that thing that ends all other deeds,
- Which shackles accidents and bolts up change,
- Which sleeps, and never palates more the dug,
- The beggar's nurse and Caesar's.
-
- Enter, to the gates of the monument, PROCULEIUS, GALLUS,
- and soldiers
-
- PROCULEIUS. Caesar sends greetings to the Queen of Egypt,
- And bids thee study on what fair demands
- Thou mean'st to have him grant thee.
- CLEOPATRA. What's thy name?
- PROCULEIUS. My name is Proculeius.
- CLEOPATRA. Antony
- Did tell me of you, bade me trust you; but
- I do not greatly care to be deceiv'd,
- That have no use for trusting. If your master
- Would have a queen his beggar, you must tell him
- That majesty, to keep decorum, must
- No less beg than a kingdom. If he please
- To give me conquer'd Egypt for my son,
- He gives me so much of mine own as I
- Will kneel to him with thanks.
- PROCULEIUS. Be of good cheer;
- Y'are fall'n into a princely hand; fear nothing.
- Make your full reference freely to my lord,
- Who is so full of grace that it flows over
- On all that need. Let me report to him
- Your sweet dependency, and you shall find
- A conqueror that will pray in aid for kindness
- Where he for grace is kneel'd to.
- CLEOPATRA. Pray you tell him
- I am his fortune's vassal and I send him
- The greatness he has got. I hourly learn
- A doctrine of obedience, and would gladly
- Look him i' th' face.
- PROCULEIUS. This I'll report, dear lady.
- Have comfort, for I know your plight is pitied
- Of him that caus'd it.
- GALLUS. You see how easily she may be surpris'd.
-
- Here PROCULEIUS and two of the guard ascend the
- monument by a ladder placed against a window,
- and come behind CLEOPATRA. Some of the guard
- unbar and open the gates
-
- Guard her till Caesar come. Exit
- IRAS. Royal Queen!
- CHARMIAN. O Cleopatra! thou art taken, Queen!
- CLEOPATRA. Quick, quick, good hands. [Drawing a dagger]
- PROCULEIUS. Hold, worthy lady, hold, [Disarms her]
- Do not yourself such wrong, who are in this
- Reliev'd, but not betray'd.
- CLEOPATRA. What, of death too,
- That rids our dogs of languish?
- PROCULEIUS. Cleopatra,
- Do not abuse my master's bounty by
- Th' undoing of yourself. Let the world see
- His nobleness well acted, which your death
- Will never let come forth.
- CLEOPATRA. Where art thou, death?
- Come hither, come! Come, come, and take a queen
- Worth many babes and beggars!
- PROCULEIUS. O, temperance, lady!
- CLEOPATRA. Sir, I will eat no meat; I'll not drink, sir;
- If idle talk will once be necessary,
- I'll not sleep neither. This mortal house I'll ruin,
- Do Caesar what he can. Know, sir, that I
- Will not wait pinion'd at your master's court,
- Nor once be chastis'd with the sober eye
- Of dull Octavia. Shall they hoist me up,
- And show me to the shouting varletry
- Of censuring Rome? Rather a ditch in Egypt
- Be gentle grave unto me! Rather on Nilus' mud
- Lay me stark-nak'd, and let the water-flies
- Blow me into abhorring! Rather make
- My country's high pyramides my gibbet,
- And hang me up in chains!
- PROCULEIUS. You do extend
- These thoughts of horror further than you shall
- Find cause in Caesar.
-
- Enter DOLABELLA
-
- DOLABELLA. Proculeius,
- What thou hast done thy master Caesar knows,
- And he hath sent for thee. For the Queen,
- I'll take her to my guard.
- PROCULEIUS. So, Dolabella,
- It shall content me best. Be gentle to her.
- [To CLEOPATRA] To Caesar I will speak what you shall please,
- If you'll employ me to him.
- CLEOPATRA. Say I would die.
- Exeunt PROCULEIUS and soldiers
- DOLABELLA. Most noble Empress, you have heard of me?
- CLEOPATRA. I cannot tell.
- DOLABELLA. Assuredly you know me.
- CLEOPATRA. No matter, sir, what I have heard or known.
- You laugh when boys or women tell their dreams;
- Is't not your trick?
- DOLABELLA. I understand not, madam.
- CLEOPATRA. I dreamt there was an Emperor Antony-
- O, such another sleep, that I might see
- But such another man!
- DOLABELLA. If it might please ye-
- CLEOPATRA. His face was as the heav'ns, and therein stuck
- A sun and moon, which kept their course and lighted
- The little O, the earth.
- DOLABELLA. Most sovereign creature-
- CLEOPATRA. His legs bestrid the ocean; his rear'd arm
- Crested the world. His voice was propertied
- As all the tuned spheres, and that to friends;
- But when he meant to quail and shake the orb,
- He was as rattling thunder. For his bounty,
- There was no winter in't; an autumn 'twas
- That grew the more by reaping. His delights
- Were dolphin-like: they show'd his back above
- The element they liv'd in. In his livery
- Walk'd crowns and crownets; realms and islands were
- As plates dropp'd from his pocket.
- DOLABELLA. Cleopatra-
- CLEOPATRA. Think you there was or might be such a man
- As this I dreamt of?
- DOLABELLA. Gentle madam, no.
- CLEOPATRA. You lie, up to the hearing of the gods.
- But if there be nor ever were one such,
- It's past the size of drearning. Nature wants stuff
- To vie strange forms with fancy; yet t' imagine
- An Antony were nature's piece 'gainst fancy,
- Condemning shadows quite.
- DOLABELLA. Hear me, good madam.
- Your loss is, as yourself, great; and you bear it
- As answering to the weight. Would I might never
- O'ertake pursu'd success, but I do feel,
- By the rebound of yours, a grief that smites
- My very heart at root.
- CLEOPATRA. I thank you, sir.
- Know you what Caesar means to do with me?
- DOLABELLA. I am loath to tell you what I would you knew.
- CLEOPATRA. Nay, pray you, sir.
- DOLABELLA. Though he be honourable-
- CLEOPATRA. He'll lead me, then, in triumph?
- DOLABELLA. Madam, he will. I know't. [Flourish]
- [Within: 'Make way there-Caesar!']
-
- Enter CAESAR; GALLUS, PROCULEIUS, MAECENAS, SELEUCUS,
- and others of his train
-
- CAESAR. Which is the Queen of Egypt?
- DOLABELLA. It is the Emperor, madam. [CLEOPATPA kneels]
- CAESAR. Arise, you shall not kneel.
- I pray you, rise; rise, Egypt.
- CLEOPATRA. Sir, the gods
- Will have it thus; my master and my lord
- I must obey.
- CAESAR. Take to you no hard thoughts.
- The record of what injuries you did us,
- Though written in our flesh, we shall remember
- As things but done by chance.
- CLEOPATRA. Sole sir o' th' world,
- I cannot project mine own cause so well
- To make it clear, but do confess I have
- Been laden with like frailties which before
- Have often sham'd our sex.
- CAESAR. Cleopatra, know
- We will extenuate rather than enforce.
- If you apply yourself to our intents-
- Which towards you are most gentle- you shall find
- A benefit in this change; but if you seek
- To lay on me a cruelty by taking
- Antony's course, you shall bereave yourself
- Of my good purposes, and put your children
- To that destruction which I'll guard them from,
- If thereon you rely. I'll take my leave.
- CLEOPATRA. And may, through all the world. 'Tis yours, and we,
- Your scutcheons and your signs of conquest, shall
- Hang in what place you please. Here, my good lord.
- CAESAR. You shall advise me in all for Cleopatra.
- CLEOPATRA. This is the brief of money, plate, and jewels,
- I am possess'd of. 'Tis exactly valued,
- Not petty things admitted. Where's Seleucus?
- SELEUCUS. Here, madam.
- CLEOPATRA. This is my treasurer; let him speak, my lord,
- Upon his peril, that I have reserv'd
- To myself nothing. Speak the truth, Seleucus.
- SELEUCUS. Madam,
- I had rather seal my lips than to my peril
- Speak that which is not.
- CLEOPATRA. What have I kept back?
- SELEUCUS. Enough to purchase what you have made known.
- CAESAR. Nay, blush not, Cleopatra; I approve
- Your wisdom in the deed.
- CLEOPATRA. See, Caesar! O, behold,
- How pomp is followed! Mine will now be yours;
- And, should we shift estates, yours would be mine.
- The ingratitude of this Seleucus does
- Even make me wild. O slave, of no more trust
- Than love that's hir'd! What, goest thou back? Thou shalt
- Go back, I warrant thee; but I'll catch thine eyes
- Though they had wings. Slave, soulless villain, dog!
- O rarely base!
- CAESAR. Good Queen, let us entreat you.
- CLEOPATRA. O Caesar, what a wounding shame is this,
- That thou vouchsafing here to visit me,
- Doing the honour of thy lordliness
- To one so meek, that mine own servant should
- Parcel the sum of my disgraces by
- Addition of his envy! Say, good Caesar,
- That I some lady trifles have reserv'd,
- Immoment toys, things of such dignity
- As we greet modern friends withal; and say
- Some nobler token I have kept apart
- For Livia and Octavia, to induce
- Their mediation- must I be unfolded
- With one that I have bred? The gods! It smites me
- Beneath the fall I have. [To SELEUCUS] Prithee go hence;
- Or I shall show the cinders of my spirits
- Through th' ashes of my chance. Wert thou a man,
- Thou wouldst have mercy on me.
- CAESAR. Forbear, Seleucus. Exit SELEUCUS
- CLEOPATRA. Be it known that we, the greatest, are misthought
- For things that others do; and when we fall
- We answer others' merits in our name,
- Are therefore to be pitied.
- CAESAR. Cleopatra,
- Not what you have reserv'd, nor what acknowledg'd,
- Put we i' th' roll of conquest. Still be't yours,
- Bestow it at your pleasure; and believe
- Caesar's no merchant, to make prize with you
- Of things that merchants sold. Therefore be cheer'd;
- Make not your thoughts your prisons. No, dear Queen;
- For we intend so to dispose you as
- Yourself shall give us counsel. Feed and sleep.
- Our care and pity is so much upon you
- That we remain your friend; and so, adieu.
- CLEOPATRA. My master and my lord!
- CAESAR. Not so. Adieu.
- Flourish. Exeunt CAESAR and his train
- CLEOPATRA. He words me, girls, he words me, that I should not
- Be noble to myself. But hark thee, Charmian!
- [Whispers CHARMIAN]
- IRAS. Finish, good lady; the bright day is done,
- And we are for the dark.
- CLEOPATRA. Hie thee again.
- I have spoke already, and it is provided;
- Go put it to the haste.
- CHARMIAN. Madam, I will.
-
- Re-enter DOLABELLA
-
- DOLABELLA. Where's the Queen?
- CHARMIAN. Behold, sir. Exit
- CLEOPATRA. Dolabella!
- DOLABELLA. Madam, as thereto sworn by your command,
- Which my love makes religion to obey,
- I tell you this: Caesar through Syria
- Intends his journey, and within three days
- You with your children will he send before.
- Make your best use of this; I have perform'd
- Your pleasure and my promise.
- CLEOPATRA. Dolabella,
- I shall remain your debtor.
- DOLABELLA. I your servant.
- Adieu, good Queen; I must attend on Caesar.
- CLEOPATRA. Farewell, and thanks. Exit DOLABELLA
- Now, Iras, what think'st thou?
- Thou an Egyptian puppet shall be shown
- In Rome as well as I. Mechanic slaves,
- With greasy aprons, rules, and hammers, shall
- Uplift us to the view; in their thick breaths,
- Rank of gross diet, shall we be enclouded,
- And forc'd to drink their vapour.
- IRAS. The gods forbid!
- CLEOPATRA. Nay, 'tis most certain, Iras. Saucy lictors
- Will catch at us like strumpets, and scald rhymers
- Ballad us out o' tune; the quick comedians
- Extemporally will stage us, and present
- Our Alexandrian revels; Antony
- Shall be brought drunken forth, and I shall see
- Some squeaking Cleopatra boy my greatness
- I' th' posture of a whore.
- IRAS. O the good gods!
- CLEOPATRA. Nay, that's certain.
- IRAS. I'll never see't, for I am sure mine nails
- Are stronger than mine eyes.
- CLEOPATRA. Why, that's the way
- To fool their preparation and to conquer
- Their most absurd intents.
-
- Enter CHARMIAN
-
- Now, Charmian!
- Show me, my women, like a queen. Go fetch
- My best attires. I am again for Cydnus,
- To meet Mark Antony. Sirrah, Iras, go.
- Now, noble Charmian, we'll dispatch indeed;
- And when thou hast done this chare, I'll give thee leave
- To play till doomsday. Bring our crown and all.
- Exit IRAS. A noise within
- Wherefore's this noise?
-
- Enter a GUARDSMAN
-
- GUARDSMAN. Here is a rural fellow
- That will not be denied your Highness' presence.
- He brings you figs.
- CLEOPATRA. Let him come in. Exit GUARDSMAN
- What poor an instrument
- May do a noble deed! He brings me liberty.
- My resolution's plac'd, and I have nothing
- Of woman in me. Now from head to foot
- I am marble-constant; now the fleeting moon
- No planet is of mine.
-
- Re-enter GUARDSMAN and CLOWN, with a basket
-
- GUARDSMAN. This is the man.
- CLEOPATRA. Avoid, and leave him. Exit GUARDSMAN
- Hast thou the pretty worm of Nilus there
- That kills and pains not?
- CLOWN. Truly, I have him. But I would not be the party that should
- desire you to touch him, for his biting is immortal; those that
- do die of it do seldom or never recover.
- CLEOPATRA. Remember'st thou any that have died on't?
- CLOWN. Very many, men and women too. I heard of one of them no
- longer than yesterday: a very honest woman, but something given
- to lie, as a woman should not do but in the way of honesty; how
- she died of the biting of it, what pain she felt- truly she makes
- a very good report o' th' worm. But he that will believe all that
- they say shall never be saved by half that they do. But this is
- most falliable, the worm's an odd worm.
- CLEOPATRA. Get thee hence; farewell.
- CLOWN. I wish you all joy of the worm.
- [Sets down the basket]
- CLEOPATRA. Farewell.
- CLOWN. You must think this, look you, that the worm will do his
- kind.
- CLEOPATRA. Ay, ay; farewell.
- CLOWN. Look you, the worm is not to be trusted but in the keeping
- of wise people; for indeed there is no goodness in the worm.
- CLEOPATRA. Take thou no care; it shall be heeded.
- CLOWN. Very good. Give it nothing, I pray you, for it is not worth
- the feeding.
- CLEOPATRA. Will it eat me?
- CLOWN. You must not think I am so simple but I know the devil
- himself will not eat a woman. I know that a woman is a dish for
- the gods, if the devil dress her not. But truly, these same
- whoreson devils do the gods great harm in their women, for in
- every ten that they make the devils mar five.
- CLEOPATRA. Well, get thee gone; farewell.
- CLOWN. Yes, forsooth. I wish you joy o' th' worm. Exit
-
- Re-enter IRAS, with a robe, crown, &c.
-
- CLEOPATRA. Give me my robe, put on my crown; I have
- Immortal longings in me. Now no more
- The juice of Egypt's grape shall moist this lip.
- Yare, yare, good Iras; quick. Methinks I hear
- Antony call. I see him rouse himself
- To praise my noble act. I hear him mock
- The luck of Caesar, which the gods give men
- To excuse their after wrath. Husband, I come.
- Now to that name my courage prove my title!
- I am fire and air; my other elements
- I give to baser life. So, have you done?
- Come then, and take the last warmth of my lips.
- Farewell, kind Charmian. Iras, long farewell.
- [Kisses them. IRAS falls and dies]
- Have I the aspic in my lips? Dost fall?
- If thus thou and nature can so gently part,
- The stroke of death is as a lover's pinch,
- Which hurts and is desir'd. Dost thou lie still?
- If thou vanishest, thou tell'st the world
- It is not worth leave-taking.
- CHARMIAN. Dissolve, thick cloud, and rain, that I may say
- The gods themselves do weep.
- CLEOPATRA. This proves me base.
- If she first meet the curled Antony,
- He'll make demand of her, and spend that kiss
- Which is my heaven to have. Come, thou mortal wretch,
- [To an asp, which she applies to her breast]
- With thy sharp teeth this knot intrinsicate
- Of life at once untie. Poor venomous fool,
- Be angry and dispatch. O couldst thou speak,
- That I might hear thee call great Caesar ass
- Unpolicied!
- CHARMIAN. O Eastern star!
- CLEOPATRA. Peace, peace!
- Dost thou not see my baby at my breast
- That sucks the nurse asleep?
- CHARMIAN. O, break! O, break!
- CLEOPATRA. As sweet as balm, as soft as air, as gentle-
- O Antony! Nay, I will take thee too:
- [Applying another asp to her arm]
- What should I stay- [Dies]
- CHARMIAN. In this vile world? So, fare thee well.
- Now boast thee, death, in thy possession lies
- A lass unparallel'd. Downy windows, close;
- And golden Phoebus never be beheld
- Of eyes again so royal! Your crown's awry;
- I'll mend it and then play-
-
- Enter the guard, rushing in
-
- FIRST GUARD. Where's the Queen?
- CHARMIAN. Speak softly, wake her not.
- FIRST GUARD. Caesar hath sent-
- CHARMIAN. Too slow a messenger. [Applies an asp]
- O, come apace, dispatch. I partly feel thee.
- FIRST GUARD. Approach, ho! All's not well: Caesar's beguil'd.
- SECOND GUARD. There's Dolabella sent from Caesar; call him.
- FIRST GUARD. What work is here! Charmian, is this well done?
- CHARMIAN. It is well done, and fitting for a princes
- Descended of so many royal kings.
- Ah, soldier! [CHARMIAN dies]
-
- Re-enter DOLABELLA
-
- DOLABELLA. How goes it here?
- SECOND GUARD. All dead.
- DOLABELLA. Caesar, thy thoughts
- Touch their effects in this. Thyself art coming
- To see perform'd the dreaded act which thou
- So sought'st to hinder.
- [Within: 'A way there, a way for Caesar!']
-
- Re-enter CAESAR and all his train
-
- DOLABELLA. O sir, you are too sure an augurer:
- That you did fear is done.
- CAESAR. Bravest at the last,
- She levell'd at our purposes, and being royal,
- Took her own way. The manner of their deaths?
- I do not see them bleed.
- DOLABELLA. Who was last with them?
- FIRST GUARD. A simple countryman that brought her figs.
- This was his basket.
- CAESAR. Poison'd then.
- FIRST GUARD. O Caesar,
- This Charmian liv'd but now; she stood and spake.
- I found her trimming up the diadem
- On her dead mistress. Tremblingly she stood,
- And on the sudden dropp'd.
- CAESAR. O noble weakness!
- If they had swallow'd poison 'twould appear
- By external swelling; but she looks like sleep,
- As she would catch another Antony
- In her strong toil of grace.
- DOLABELLA. Here on her breast
- There is a vent of blood, and something blown;
- The like is on her arm.
- FIRST GUARD. This is an aspic's trail; and these fig-leaves
- Have slime upon them, such as th' aspic leaves
- Upon the caves of Nile.
- CAESAR. Most probable
- That so she died; for her physician tells me
- She hath pursu'd conclusions infinite
- Of easy ways to die. Take up her bed,
- And bear her women from the monument.
- She shall be buried by her Antony;
- No grave upon the earth shall clip in it
- A pair so famous. High events as these
- Strike those that make them; and their story is
- No less in pity than his glory which
- Brought them to be lamented. Our army shall
- In solemn show attend this funeral,
- And then to Rome. Come, Dolabella, see
- High order in this great solemnity. Exeunt
-
-
-THE END
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-
-
-1601
-
-AS YOU LIKE IT
-
-by William Shakespeare
-
-
-
-DRAMATIS PERSONAE.
-
- DUKE, living in exile
- FREDERICK, his brother, and usurper of his dominions
- AMIENS, lord attending on the banished Duke
- JAQUES, " " " " " "
- LE BEAU, a courtier attending upon Frederick
- CHARLES, wrestler to Frederick
- OLIVER, son of Sir Rowland de Boys
- JAQUES, " " " " " "
- ORLANDO, " " " " " "
- ADAM, servant to Oliver
- DENNIS, " " "
- TOUCHSTONE, the court jester
- SIR OLIVER MARTEXT, a vicar
- CORIN, shepherd
- SILVIUS, "
- WILLIAM, a country fellow, in love with Audrey
- A person representing HYMEN
-
- ROSALIND, daughter to the banished Duke
- CELIA, daughter to Frederick
- PHEBE, a shepherdes
- AUDREY, a country wench
-
- Lords, Pages, Foresters, and Attendants
-
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-SCENE:
-OLIVER'S house; FREDERICK'S court; and the Forest of Arden
-
-ACT I. SCENE I.
-Orchard of OLIVER'S house
-
-Enter ORLANDO and ADAM
-
- ORLANDO. As I remember, Adam, it was upon this fashion bequeathed
- me by will but poor a thousand crowns, and, as thou say'st,
- charged my brother, on his blessing, to breed me well; and there
- begins my sadness. My brother Jaques he keeps at school, and
- report speaks goldenly of his profit. For my part, he keeps me
- rustically at home, or, to speak more properly, stays me here at
- home unkept; for call you that keeping for a gentleman of my
- birth that differs not from the stalling of an ox? His horses are
- bred better; for, besides that they are fair with their feeding,
- they are taught their manage, and to that end riders dearly
- hir'd; but I, his brother, gain nothing under him but growth; for
- the which his animals on his dunghills are as much bound to him
- as I. Besides this nothing that he so plentifully gives me, the
- something that nature gave me his countenance seems to take from
- me. He lets me feed with his hinds, bars me the place of a
- brother, and as much as in him lies, mines my gentility with my
- education. This is it, Adam, that grieves me; and the spirit of
- my father, which I think is within me, begins to mutiny against
- this servitude. I will no longer endure it, though yet I know no
- wise remedy how to avoid it.
-
- Enter OLIVER
-
- ADAM. Yonder comes my master, your brother.
- ORLANDO. Go apart, Adam, and thou shalt hear how he will shake me
- up. [ADAM retires]
- OLIVER. Now, sir! what make you here?
- ORLANDO. Nothing; I am not taught to make any thing.
- OLIVER. What mar you then, sir?
- ORLANDO. Marry, sir, I am helping you to mar that which God made, a
- poor unworthy brother of yours, with idleness.
- OLIVER. Marry, sir, be better employed, and be nought awhile.
- ORLANDO. Shall I keep your hogs, and eat husks with them? What
- prodigal portion have I spent that I should come to such penury?
- OLIVER. Know you where you are, sir?
- ORLANDO. O, sir, very well; here in your orchard.
- OLIVER. Know you before whom, sir?
- ORLANDO. Ay, better than him I am before knows me. I know you are
- my eldest brother; and in the gentle condition of blood, you
- should so know me. The courtesy of nations allows you my better
- in that you are the first-born; but the same tradition takes not
- away my blood, were there twenty brothers betwixt us. I have as
- much of my father in me as you, albeit I confess your coming
- before me is nearer to his reverence.
- OLIVER. What, boy! [Strikes him]
- ORLANDO. Come, come, elder brother, you are too young in this.
- OLIVER. Wilt thou lay hands on me, villain?
- ORLANDO. I am no villain; I am the youngest son of Sir Rowland de
- Boys. He was my father; and he is thrice a villain that says such
- a father begot villains. Wert thou not my brother, I would not
- take this hand from thy throat till this other had pull'd out thy
- tongue for saying so. Thou has rail'd on thyself.
- ADAM. [Coming forward] Sweet masters, be patient; for your father's
- remembrance, be at accord.
- OLIVER. Let me go, I say.
- ORLANDO. I will not, till I please; you shall hear me. My father
- charg'd you in his will to give me good education: you have
- train'd me like a peasant, obscuring and hiding from me all
- gentleman-like qualities. The spirit of my father grows strong in
- me, and I will no longer endure it; therefore allow me such
- exercises as may become a gentleman, or give me the poor
- allottery my father left me by testament; with that I will go buy
- my fortunes.
- OLIVER. And what wilt thou do? Beg, when that is spent? Well, sir,
- get you in. I will not long be troubled with you; you shall have
- some part of your will. I pray you leave me.
- ORLANDO. I no further offend you than becomes me for my good.
- OLIVER. Get you with him, you old dog.
- ADAM. Is 'old dog' my reward? Most true, I have lost my teeth in
- your service. God be with my old master! He would not have spoke
- such a word.
- Exeunt ORLANDO and ADAM
- OLIVER. Is it even so? Begin you to grow upon me? I will physic
- your rankness, and yet give no thousand crowns neither. Holla,
- Dennis!
-
- Enter DENNIS
-
- DENNIS. Calls your worship?
- OLIVER. not Charles, the Duke's wrestler, here to speak with me?
- DENNIS. So please you, he is here at the door and importunes access
- to you.
- OLIVER. Call him in. [Exit DENNIS] 'Twill be a good way; and
- to-morrow the wrestling is.
-
- Enter CHARLES
-
- CHARLES. Good morrow to your worship.
- OLIVER. Good Monsieur Charles! What's the new news at the new
- court?
- CHARLES. There's no news at the court, sir, but the old news; that
- is, the old Duke is banished by his younger brother the new Duke;
- and three or four loving lords have put themselves into voluntary
- exile with him, whose lands and revenues enrich the new Duke;
- therefore he gives them good leave to wander.
- OLIVER. Can you tell if Rosalind, the Duke's daughter, be banished
- with her father?
- CHARLES. O, no; for the Duke's daughter, her cousin, so loves her,
- being ever from their cradles bred together, that she would have
- followed her exile, or have died to stay behind her. She is at
- the court, and no less beloved of her uncle than his own
- daughter; and never two ladies loved as they do.
- OLIVER. Where will the old Duke live?
- CHARLES. They say he is already in the Forest of Arden, and a many
- merry men with him; and there they live like the old Robin Hood
- of England. They say many young gentlemen flock to him every day,
- and fleet the time carelessly, as they did in the golden world.
- OLIVER. What, you wrestle to-morrow before the new Duke?
- CHARLES. Marry, do I, sir; and I came to acquaint you with a
- matter. I am given, sir, secretly to understand that your younger
- brother, Orlando, hath a disposition to come in disguis'd against
- me to try a fall. To-morrow, sir, I wrestle for my credit; and he
- that escapes me without some broken limb shall acquit him well.
- Your brother is but young and tender; and, for your love, I would
- be loath to foil him, as I must, for my own honour, if he come
- in; therefore, out of my love to you, I came hither to acquaint
- you withal, that either you might stay him from his intendment,
- or brook such disgrace well as he shall run into, in that it is
- thing of his own search and altogether against my will.
- OLIVER. Charles, I thank thee for thy love to me, which thou shalt
- find I will most kindly requite. I had myself notice of my
- brother's purpose herein, and have by underhand means laboured to
- dissuade him from it; but he is resolute. I'll tell thee,
- Charles, it is the stubbornest young fellow of France; full of
- ambition, an envious emulator of every man's good parts, a secret
- and villainous contriver against me his natural brother.
- Therefore use thy discretion: I had as lief thou didst break his
- neck as his finger. And thou wert best look to't; for if thou
- dost him any slight disgrace, or if he do not mightily grace
- himself on thee, he will practise against thee by poison, entrap
- thee by some treacherous device, and never leave thee till he
- hath ta'en thy life by some indirect means or other; for, I
- assure thee, and almost with tears I speak it, there is not one
- so young and so villainous this day living. I speak but brotherly
- of him; but should I anatomize him to thee as he is, I must blush
- and weep, and thou must look pale and wonder.
- CHARLES. I am heartily glad I came hither to you. If he come
- to-morrow I'll give him his payment. If ever he go alone again,
- I'll never wrestle for prize more. And so, God keep your worship!
- Exit
- OLIVER. Farewell, good Charles. Now will I stir this gamester. I
- hope I shall see an end of him; for my soul, yet I know not why,
- hates nothing more than he. Yet he's gentle; never school'd and
- yet learned; full of noble device; of all sorts enchantingly
- beloved; and, indeed, so much in the heart of the world, and
- especially of my own people, who best know him, that I am
- altogether misprised. But it shall not be so long; this wrestler
- shall clear all. Nothing remains but that I kindle the boy
- thither, which now I'll go about. Exit
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-A lawn before the DUKE'S palace
-
-Enter ROSALIND and CELIA
-
- CELIA. I pray thee, Rosalind, sweet my coz, be merry.
- ROSALIND. Dear Celia, I show more mirth than I am mistress of; and
- would you yet I were merrier? Unless you could teach me to forget
- a banished father, you must not learn me how to remember any
- extraordinary pleasure.
- CELIA. Herein I see thou lov'st me not with the full weight that I
- love thee. If my uncle, thy banished father, had banished thy
- uncle, the Duke my father, so thou hadst been still with me, I
- could have taught my love to take thy father for mine; so wouldst
- thou, if the truth of thy love to me were so righteously temper'd
- as mine is to thee.
- ROSALIND. Well, I will forget the condition of my estate, to
- rejoice in yours.
- CELIA. You know my father hath no child but I, nor none is like to
- have; and, truly, when he dies thou shalt be his heir; for what
- he hath taken away from thy father perforce, I will render thee
- again in affection. By mine honour, I will; and when I break that
- oath, let me turn monster; therefore, my sweet Rose, my dear
- Rose, be merry.
- ROSALIND. From henceforth I will, coz, and devise sports.
- Let me see; what think you of falling in love?
- CELIA. Marry, I prithee, do, to make sport withal; but love no man
- in good earnest, nor no further in sport neither than with safety
- of a pure blush thou mayst in honour come off again.
- ROSALIND. What shall be our sport, then?
- CELIA. Let us sit and mock the good housewife Fortune from her
- wheel, that her gifts may henceforth be bestowed equally.
- ROSALIND. I would we could do so; for her benefits are mightily
- misplaced; and the bountiful blind woman doth most mistake in her
- gifts to women.
- CELIA. 'Tis true; for those that she makes fair she scarce makes
- honest; and those that she makes honest she makes very
- ill-favouredly.
- ROSALIND. Nay; now thou goest from Fortune's office to Nature's:
- Fortune reigns in gifts of the world, not in the lineaments of
- Nature.
-
- Enter TOUCHSTONE
-
- CELIA. No; when Nature hath made a fair creature, may she not by
- Fortune fall into the fire? Though Nature hath given us wit to
- flout at Fortune, hath not Fortune sent in this fool to cut off
- the argument?
- ROSALIND. Indeed, there is Fortune too hard for Nature, when
- Fortune makes Nature's natural the cutter-off of Nature's wit.
- CELIA. Peradventure this is not Fortune's work neither, but
- Nature's, who perceiveth our natural wits too dull to reason of
- such goddesses, and hath sent this natural for our whetstone; for
- always the dullness of the fool is the whetstone of the wits. How
- now, wit! Whither wander you?
- TOUCHSTONE. Mistress, you must come away to your father.
- CELIA. Were you made the messenger?
- TOUCHSTONE. No, by mine honour; but I was bid to come for you.
- ROSALIND. Where learned you that oath, fool?
- TOUCHSTONE. Of a certain knight that swore by his honour they were
- good pancakes, and swore by his honour the mustard was naught.
- Now I'll stand to it, the pancakes were naught and the mustard
- was good, and yet was not the knight forsworn.
- CELIA. How prove you that, in the great heap of your knowledge?
- ROSALIND. Ay, marry, now unmuzzle your wisdom.
- TOUCHSTONE. Stand you both forth now: stroke your chins, and swear
- by your beards that I am a knave.
- CELIA. By our beards, if we had them, thou art.
- TOUCHSTONE. By my knavery, if I had it, then I were. But if you
- swear by that that not, you are not forsworn; no more was this
- knight, swearing by his honour, for he never had any; or if he
- had, he had sworn it away before ever he saw those pancackes or
- that mustard.
- CELIA. Prithee, who is't that thou mean'st?
- TOUCHSTONE. One that old Frederick, your father, loves.
- CELIA. My father's love is enough to honour him. Enough, speak no
- more of him; you'll be whipt for taxation one of these days.
- TOUCHSTONE. The more pity that fools may not speak wisely what wise
- men do foolishly.
- CELIA. By my troth, thou sayest true; for since the little wit that
- fools have was silenced, the little foolery that wise men have
- makes a great show. Here comes Monsieur Le Beau.
-
- Enter LE BEAU
-
- ROSALIND. With his mouth full of news.
- CELIA. Which he will put on us as pigeons feed their young.
- ROSALIND. Then shall we be news-cramm'd.
- CELIA. All the better; we shall be the more marketable. Bon jour,
- Monsieur Le Beau. What's the news?
- LE BEAU. Fair Princess, you have lost much good sport.
- CELIA. Sport! of what colour?
- LE BEAU. What colour, madam? How shall I answer you?
- ROSALIND. As wit and fortune will.
- TOUCHSTONE. Or as the Destinies decrees.
- CELIA. Well said; that was laid on with a trowel.
- TOUCHSTONE. Nay, if I keep not my rank-
- ROSALIND. Thou losest thy old smell.
- LE BEAU. You amaze me, ladies. I would have told you of good
- wrestling, which you have lost the sight of.
- ROSALIND. Yet tell us the manner of the wrestling.
- LE BEAU. I will tell you the beginning, and, if it please your
- ladyships, you may see the end; for the best is yet to do; and
- here, where you are, they are coming to perform it.
- CELIA. Well, the beginning, that is dead and buried.
- LE BEAU. There comes an old man and his three sons-
- CELIA. I could match this beginning with an old tale.
- LE BEAU. Three proper young men, of excellent growth and presence.
- ROSALIND. With bills on their necks: 'Be it known unto all men by
- these presents'-
- LE BEAU. The eldest of the three wrestled with Charles, the Duke's
- wrestler; which Charles in a moment threw him, and broke three of
- his ribs, that there is little hope of life in him. So he serv'd
- the second, and so the third. Yonder they lie; the poor old man,
- their father, making such pitiful dole over them that all the
- beholders take his part with weeping.
- ROSALIND. Alas!
- TOUCHSTONE. But what is the sport, monsieur, that the ladies have
- lost?
- LE BEAU. Why, this that I speak of.
- TOUCHSTONE. Thus men may grow wiser every day. It is the first time
- that ever I heard breaking of ribs was sport for ladies.
- CELIA. Or I, I promise thee.
- ROSALIND. But is there any else longs to see this broken music in
- his sides? Is there yet another dotes upon rib-breaking? Shall we
- see this wrestling, cousin?
- LE BEAU. You must, if you stay here; for here is the place
- appointed for the wrestling, and they are ready to perform it.
- CELIA. Yonder, sure, they are coming. Let us now stay and see it.
-
- Flourish. Enter DUKE FREDERICK, LORDS, ORLANDO,
- CHARLES, and ATTENDANTS
-
- FREDERICK. Come on; since the youth will not be entreated, his own
- peril on his forwardness.
- ROSALIND. Is yonder the man?
- LE BEAU. Even he, madam.
- CELIA. Alas, he is too young; yet he looks successfully.
- FREDERICK. How now, daughter and cousin! Are you crept hither to
- see the wrestling?
- ROSALIND. Ay, my liege; so please you give us leave.
- FREDERICK. You will take little delight in it, I can tell you,
- there is such odds in the man. In pity of the challenger's youth
- I would fain dissuade him, but he will not be entreated. Speak to
- him, ladies; see if you can move him.
- CELIA. Call him hither, good Monsieur Le Beau.
- FREDERICK. Do so; I'll not be by.
- [DUKE FREDERICK goes apart]
- LE BEAU. Monsieur the Challenger, the Princess calls for you.
- ORLANDO. I attend them with all respect and duty.
- ROSALIND. Young man, have you challeng'd Charles the wrestler?
- ORLANDO. No, fair Princess; he is the general challenger. I come
- but in, as others do, to try with him the strength of my youth.
- CELIA. Young gentleman, your spirits are too bold for your years.
- You have seen cruel proof of this man's strength; if you saw
- yourself with your eyes, or knew yourself with your judgment, the
- fear of your adventure would counsel you to a more equal
- enterprise. We pray you, for your own sake, to embrace your own
- safety and give over this attempt.
- ROSALIND. Do, young sir; your reputation shall not therefore be
- misprised: we will make it our suit to the Duke that the
- wrestling might not go forward.
- ORLANDO. I beseech you, punish me not with your hard thoughts,
- wherein I confess me much guilty to deny so fair and excellent
- ladies any thing. But let your fair eyes and gentle wishes go
- with me to my trial; wherein if I be foil'd there is but one
- sham'd that was never gracious; if kill'd, but one dead that is
- willing to be so. I shall do my friends no wrong, for I have none
- to lament me; the world no injury, for in it I have nothing; only
- in the world I fill up a place, which may be better supplied when
- I have made it empty.
- ROSALIND. The little strength that I have, I would it were with
- you.
- CELIA. And mine to eke out hers.
- ROSALIND. Fare you well. Pray heaven I be deceiv'd in you!
- CELIA. Your heart's desires be with you!
- CHARLES. Come, where is this young gallant that is so desirous to
- lie with his mother earth?
- ORLANDO. Ready, sir; but his will hath in it a more modest working.
- FREDERICK. You shall try but one fall.
- CHARLES. No, I warrant your Grace, you shall not entreat him to a
- second, that have so mightily persuaded him from a first.
- ORLANDO. You mean to mock me after; you should not have mock'd me
- before; but come your ways.
- ROSALIND. Now, Hercules be thy speed, young man!
- CELIA. I would I were invisible, to catch the strong fellow by the
- leg. [They wrestle]
- ROSALIND. O excellent young man!
- CELIA. If I had a thunderbolt in mine eye, I can tell who should
- down.
- [CHARLES is thrown. Shout]
- FREDERICK. No more, no more.
- ORLANDO. Yes, I beseech your Grace; I am not yet well breath'd.
- FREDERICK. How dost thou, Charles?
- LE BEAU. He cannot speak, my lord.
- FREDERICK. Bear him away. What is thy name, young man?
- ORLANDO. Orlando, my liege; the youngest son of Sir Rowland de
- Boys.
- FREDERICK. I would thou hadst been son to some man else.
- The world esteem'd thy father honourable,
- But I did find him still mine enemy.
- Thou shouldst have better pleas'd me with this deed,
- Hadst thou descended from another house.
- But fare thee well; thou art a gallant youth;
- I would thou hadst told me of another father.
- Exeunt DUKE, train, and LE BEAU
- CELIA. Were I my father, coz, would I do this?
- ORLANDO. I am more proud to be Sir Rowland's son,
- His youngest son- and would not change that calling
- To be adopted heir to Frederick.
- ROSALIND. My father lov'd Sir Rowland as his soul,
- And all the world was of my father's mind;
- Had I before known this young man his son,
- I should have given him tears unto entreaties
- Ere he should thus have ventur'd.
- CELIA. Gentle cousin,
- Let us go thank him, and encourage him;
- My father's rough and envious disposition
- Sticks me at heart. Sir, you have well deserv'd;
- If you do keep your promises in love
- But justly as you have exceeded all promise,
- Your mistress shall be happy.
- ROSALIND. Gentleman, [Giving him a chain from her neck]
- Wear this for me; one out of suits with fortune,
- That could give more, but that her hand lacks means.
- Shall we go, coz?
- CELIA. Ay. Fare you well, fair gentleman.
- ORLANDO. Can I not say 'I thank you'? My better parts
- Are all thrown down; and that which here stands up
- Is but a quintain, a mere lifeless block.
- ROSALIND. He calls us back. My pride fell with my fortunes;
- I'll ask him what he would. Did you call, sir?
- Sir, you have wrestled well, and overthrown
- More than your enemies.
- CELIA. Will you go, coz?
- ROSALIND. Have with you. Fare you well.
- Exeunt ROSALIND and CELIA
- ORLANDO. What passion hangs these weights upon my tongue?
- I cannot speak to her, yet she urg'd conference.
- O poor Orlando, thou art overthrown!
- Or Charles or something weaker masters thee.
-
- Re-enter LE BEAU
-
- LE BEAU. Good sir, I do in friendship counsel you
- To leave this place. Albeit you have deserv'd
- High commendation, true applause, and love,
- Yet such is now the Duke's condition
- That he misconstrues all that you have done.
- The Duke is humorous; what he is, indeed,
- More suits you to conceive than I to speak of.
- ORLANDO. I thank you, sir; and pray you tell me this:
- Which of the two was daughter of the Duke
- That here was at the wrestling?
- LE BEAU. Neither his daughter, if we judge by manners;
- But yet, indeed, the smaller is his daughter;
- The other is daughter to the banish'd Duke,
- And here detain'd by her usurping uncle,
- To keep his daughter company; whose loves
- Are dearer than the natural bond of sisters.
- But I can tell you that of late this Duke
- Hath ta'en displeasure 'gainst his gentle niece,
- Grounded upon no other argument
- But that the people praise her for her virtues
- And pity her for her good father's sake;
- And, on my life, his malice 'gainst the lady
- Will suddenly break forth. Sir, fare you well.
- Hereafter, in a better world than this,
- I shall desire more love and knowledge of you.
- ORLANDO. I rest much bounden to you; fare you well.
- Exit LE BEAU
- Thus must I from the smoke into the smother;
- From tyrant Duke unto a tyrant brother.
- But heavenly Rosalind! Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-The DUKE's palace
-
-Enter CELIA and ROSALIND
-
- CELIA. Why, cousin! why, Rosalind! Cupid have mercy!
- Not a word?
- ROSALIND. Not one to throw at a dog.
- CELIA. No, thy words are too precious to be cast away upon curs;
- throw some of them at me; come, lame me with reasons.
- ROSALIND. Then there were two cousins laid up, when the one should
- be lam'd with reasons and the other mad without any.
- CELIA. But is all this for your father?
- ROSALIND. No, some of it is for my child's father. O, how full of
- briers is this working-day world!
- CELIA. They are but burs, cousin, thrown upon thee in holiday
- foolery; if we walk not in the trodden paths, our very petticoats
- will catch them.
- ROSALIND. I could shake them off my coat: these burs are in my
- heart.
- CELIA. Hem them away.
- ROSALIND. I would try, if I could cry 'hem' and have him.
- CELIA. Come, come, wrestle with thy affections.
- ROSALIND. O, they take the part of a better wrestler than myself.
- CELIA. O, a good wish upon you! You will try in time, in despite of
- a fall. But, turning these jests out of service, let us talk in
- good earnest. Is it possible, on such a sudden, you should fall
- into so strong a liking with old Sir Rowland's youngest son?
- ROSALIND. The Duke my father lov'd his father dearly.
- CELIA. Doth it therefore ensue that you should love his son dearly?
- By this kind of chase I should hate him, for my father hated his
- father dearly; yet I hate not Orlando.
- ROSALIND. No, faith, hate him not, for my sake.
- CELIA. Why should I not? Doth he not deserve well?
-
- Enter DUKE FREDERICK, with LORDS
-
- ROSALIND. Let me love him for that; and do you love him because I
- do. Look, here comes the Duke.
- CELIA. With his eyes full of anger.
- FREDERICK. Mistress, dispatch you with your safest haste,
- And get you from our court.
- ROSALIND. Me, uncle?
- FREDERICK. You, cousin.
- Within these ten days if that thou beest found
- So near our public court as twenty miles,
- Thou diest for it.
- ROSALIND. I do beseech your Grace,
- Let me the knowledge of my fault bear with me.
- If with myself I hold intelligence,
- Or have acquaintance with mine own desires;
- If that I do not dream, or be not frantic-
- As I do trust I am not- then, dear uncle,
- Never so much as in a thought unborn
- Did I offend your Highness.
- FREDERICK. Thus do all traitors;
- If their purgation did consist in words,
- They are as innocent as grace itself.
- Let it suffice thee that I trust thee not.
- ROSALIND. Yet your mistrust cannot make me a traitor.
- Tell me whereon the likelihood depends.
- FREDERICK. Thou art thy father's daughter; there's enough.
- ROSALIND. SO was I when your Highness took his dukedom;
- So was I when your Highness banish'd him.
- Treason is not inherited, my lord;
- Or, if we did derive it from our friends,
- What's that to me? My father was no traitor.
- Then, good my liege, mistake me not so much
- To think my poverty is treacherous.
- CELIA. Dear sovereign, hear me speak.
- FREDERICK. Ay, Celia; we stay'd her for your sake,
- Else had she with her father rang'd along.
- CELIA. I did not then entreat to have her stay;
- It was your pleasure, and your own remorse;
- I was too young that time to value her,
- But now I know her. If she be a traitor,
- Why so am I: we still have slept together,
- Rose at an instant, learn'd, play'd, eat together;
- And wheresoe'er we went, like Juno's swans,
- Still we went coupled and inseparable.
- FREDERICK. She is too subtle for thee; and her smoothness,
- Her very silence and her patience,
- Speak to the people, and they pity her.
- Thou art a fool. She robs thee of thy name;
- And thou wilt show more bright and seem more virtuous
- When she is gone. Then open not thy lips.
- Firm and irrevocable is my doom
- Which I have pass'd upon her; she is banish'd.
- CELIA. Pronounce that sentence, then, on me, my liege;
- I cannot live out of her company.
- FREDERICK. You are a fool. You, niece, provide yourself.
- If you outstay the time, upon mine honour,
- And in the greatness of my word, you die.
- Exeunt DUKE and LORDS
- CELIA. O my poor Rosalind! Whither wilt thou go?
- Wilt thou change fathers? I will give thee mine.
- I charge thee be not thou more griev'd than I am.
- ROSALIND. I have more cause.
- CELIA. Thou hast not, cousin.
- Prithee be cheerful. Know'st thou not the Duke
- Hath banish'd me, his daughter?
- ROSALIND. That he hath not.
- CELIA. No, hath not? Rosalind lacks, then, the love
- Which teacheth thee that thou and I am one.
- Shall we be sund'red? Shall we part, sweet girl?
- No; let my father seek another heir.
- Therefore devise with me how we may fly,
- Whither to go, and what to bear with us;
- And do not seek to take your charge upon you,
- To bear your griefs yourself, and leave me out;
- For, by this heaven, now at our sorrows pale,
- Say what thou canst, I'll go along with thee.
- ROSALIND. Why, whither shall we go?
- CELIA. To seek my uncle in the Forest of Arden.
- ROSALIND. Alas, what danger will it be to us,
- Maids as we are, to travel forth so far!
- Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold.
- CELIA. I'll put myself in poor and mean attire,
- And with a kind of umber smirch my face;
- The like do you; so shall we pass along,
- And never stir assailants.
- ROSALIND. Were it not better,
- Because that I am more than common tall,
- That I did suit me all points like a man?
- A gallant curtle-axe upon my thigh,
- A boar spear in my hand; and- in my heart
- Lie there what hidden woman's fear there will-
- We'll have a swashing and a martial outside,
- As many other mannish cowards have
- That do outface it with their semblances.
- CELIA. What shall I call thee when thou art a man?
- ROSALIND. I'll have no worse a name than Jove's own page,
- And therefore look you call me Ganymede.
- But what will you be call'd?
- CELIA. Something that hath a reference to my state:
- No longer Celia, but Aliena.
- ROSALIND. But, cousin, what if we assay'd to steal
- The clownish fool out of your father's court?
- Would he not be a comfort to our travel?
- CELIA. He'll go along o'er the wide world with me;
- Leave me alone to woo him. Let's away,
- And get our jewels and our wealth together;
- Devise the fittest time and safest way
- To hide us from pursuit that will be made
- After my flight. Now go we in content
- To liberty, and not to banishment. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT II. SCENE I.
-The Forest of Arden
-
-Enter DUKE SENIOR, AMIENS, and two or three LORDS, like foresters
-
- DUKE SENIOR. Now, my co-mates and brothers in exile,
- Hath not old custom made this life more sweet
- Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods
- More free from peril than the envious court?
- Here feel we not the penalty of Adam,
- The seasons' difference; as the icy fang
- And churlish chiding of the winter's wind,
- Which when it bites and blows upon my body,
- Even till I shrink with cold, I smile and say
- 'This is no flattery; these are counsellors
- That feelingly persuade me what I am.'
- Sweet are the uses of adversity,
- Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous,
- Wears yet a precious jewel in his head;
- And this our life, exempt from public haunt,
- Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,
- Sermons in stones, and good in everything.
- I would not change it.
- AMIENS. Happy is your Grace,
- That can translate the stubbornness of fortune
- Into so quiet and so sweet a style.
- DUKE SENIOR. Come, shall we go and kill us venison?
- And yet it irks me the poor dappled fools,
- Being native burghers of this desert city,
- Should, in their own confines, with forked heads
- Have their round haunches gor'd.
- FIRST LORD. Indeed, my lord,
- The melancholy Jaques grieves at that;
- And, in that kind, swears you do more usurp
- Than doth your brother that hath banish'd you.
- To-day my Lord of Amiens and myself
- Did steal behind him as he lay along
- Under an oak whose antique root peeps out
- Upon the brook that brawls along this wood!
- To the which place a poor sequest'red stag,
- That from the hunter's aim had ta'en a hurt,
- Did come to languish; and, indeed, my lord,
- The wretched animal heav'd forth such groans
- That their discharge did stretch his leathern coat
- Almost to bursting; and the big round tears
- Cours'd one another down his innocent nose
- In piteous chase; and thus the hairy fool,
- Much marked of the melancholy Jaques,
- Stood on th' extremest verge of the swift brook,
- Augmenting it with tears.
- DUKE SENIOR. But what said Jaques?
- Did he not moralize this spectacle?
- FIRST LORD. O, yes, into a thousand similes.
- First, for his weeping into the needless stream:
- 'Poor deer,' quoth he 'thou mak'st a testament
- As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more
- To that which had too much.' Then, being there alone,
- Left and abandoned of his velvet friends:
- ''Tis right'; quoth he 'thus misery doth part
- The flux of company.' Anon, a careless herd,
- Full of the pasture, jumps along by him
- And never stays to greet him. 'Ay,' quoth Jaques
- 'Sweep on, you fat and greasy citizens;
- 'Tis just the fashion. Wherefore do you look
- Upon that poor and broken bankrupt there?'
- Thus most invectively he pierceth through
- The body of the country, city, court,
- Yea, and of this our life; swearing that we
- Are mere usurpers, tyrants, and what's worse,
- To fright the animals, and to kill them up
- In their assign'd and native dwelling-place.
- DUKE SENIOR. And did you leave him in this contemplation?
- SECOND LORD. We did, my lord, weeping and commenting
- Upon the sobbing deer.
- DUKE SENIOR. Show me the place;
- I love to cope him in these sullen fits,
- For then he's full of matter.
- FIRST LORD. I'll bring you to him straight. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-The DUKE'S palace
-
-Enter DUKE FREDERICK, with LORDS
-
- FREDERICK. Can it be possible that no man saw them?
- It cannot be; some villains of my court
- Are of consent and sufferance in this.
- FIRST LORD. I cannot hear of any that did see her.
- The ladies, her attendants of her chamber,
- Saw her abed, and in the morning early
- They found the bed untreasur'd of their mistress.
- SECOND LORD. My lord, the roynish clown, at whom so oft
- Your Grace was wont to laugh, is also missing.
- Hisperia, the Princess' gentlewoman,
- Confesses that she secretly o'erheard
- Your daughter and her cousin much commend
- The parts and graces of the wrestler
- That did but lately foil the sinewy Charles;
- And she believes, wherever they are gone,
- That youth is surely in their company.
- FREDERICK. Send to his brother; fetch that gallant hither.
- If he be absent, bring his brother to me;
- I'll make him find him. Do this suddenly;
- And let not search and inquisition quail
- To bring again these foolish runaways. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-Before OLIVER'S house
-
-Enter ORLANDO and ADAM, meeting
-
- ORLANDO. Who's there?
- ADAM. What, my young master? O my gentle master!
- O my sweet master! O you memory
- Of old Sir Rowland! Why, what make you here?
- Why are you virtuous? Why do people love you?
- And wherefore are you gentle, strong, and valiant?
- Why would you be so fond to overcome
- The bonny prizer of the humorous Duke?
- Your praise is come too swiftly home before you.
- Know you not, master, to some kind of men
- Their graces serve them but as enemies?
- No more do yours. Your virtues, gentle master,
- Are sanctified and holy traitors to you.
- O, what a world is this, when what is comely
- Envenoms him that bears it!
- ORLANDO. Why, what's the matter?
- ADAM. O unhappy youth!
- Come not within these doors; within this roof
- The enemy of all your graces lives.
- Your brother- no, no brother; yet the son-
- Yet not the son; I will not call him son
- Of him I was about to call his father-
- Hath heard your praises; and this night he means
- To burn the lodging where you use to lie,
- And you within it. If he fail of that,
- He will have other means to cut you off;
- I overheard him and his practices.
- This is no place; this house is but a butchery;
- Abhor it, fear it, do not enter it.
- ORLANDO. Why, whither, Adam, wouldst thou have me go?
- ADAM. No matter whither, so you come not here.
- ORLANDO. What, wouldst thou have me go and beg my food,
- Or with a base and boist'rous sword enforce
- A thievish living on the common road?
- This I must do, or know not what to do;
- Yet this I will not do, do how I can.
- I rather will subject me to the malice
- Of a diverted blood and bloody brother.
- ADAM. But do not so. I have five hundred crowns,
- The thrifty hire I sav'd under your father,
- Which I did store to be my foster-nurse,
- When service should in my old limbs lie lame,
- And unregarded age in corners thrown.
- Take that, and He that doth the ravens feed,
- Yea, providently caters for the sparrow,
- Be comfort to my age! Here is the gold;
- All this I give you. Let me be your servant;
- Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty;
- For in my youth I never did apply
- Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood,
- Nor did not with unbashful forehead woo
- The means of weakness and debility;
- Therefore my age is as a lusty winter,
- Frosty, but kindly. Let me go with you;
- I'll do the service of a younger man
- In all your business and necessities.
- ORLANDO. O good old man, how well in thee appears
- The constant service of the antique world,
- When service sweat for duty, not for meed!
- Thou art not for the fashion of these times,
- Where none will sweat but for promotion,
- And having that do choke their service up
- Even with the having; it is not so with thee.
- But, poor old man, thou prun'st a rotten tree
- That cannot so much as a blossom yield
- In lieu of all thy pains and husbandry.
- But come thy ways, we'll go along together,
- And ere we have thy youthful wages spent
- We'll light upon some settled low content.
- ADAM. Master, go on; and I will follow the
- To the last gasp, with truth and loyalty.
- From seventeen years till now almost four-score
- Here lived I, but now live here no more.
- At seventeen years many their fortunes seek,
- But at fourscore it is too late a week;
- Yet fortune cannot recompense me better
- Than to die well and not my master's debtor. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE IV.
-The Forest of Arden
-
-Enter ROSALIND for GANYMEDE, CELIA for ALIENA, and CLOWN alias TOUCHSTONE
-
- ROSALIND. O Jupiter, how weary are my spirits!
- TOUCHSTONE. I Care not for my spirits, if my legs were not weary.
- ROSALIND. I could find in my heart to disgrace my man's apparel,
- and to cry like a woman; but I must comfort the weaker vessel, as
- doublet and hose ought to show itself courageous to petticoat;
- therefore, courage, good Aliena.
- CELIA. I pray you bear with me; I cannot go no further.
- TOUCHSTONE. For my part, I had rather bear with you than bear you;
- yet I should bear no cross if I did bear you; for I think you
- have no money in your purse.
- ROSALIND. Well,. this is the Forest of Arden.
- TOUCHSTONE. Ay, now am I in Arden; the more fool I; when I was at
- home I was in a better place; but travellers must be content.
-
- Enter CORIN and SILVIUS
-
- ROSALIND. Ay, be so, good Touchstone. Look you, who comes here, a
- young man and an old in solemn talk.
- CORIN. That is the way to make her scorn you still.
- SILVIUS. O Corin, that thou knew'st how I do love her!
- CORIN. I partly guess; for I have lov'd ere now.
- SILVIUS. No, Corin, being old, thou canst not guess,
- Though in thy youth thou wast as true a lover
- As ever sigh'd upon a midnight pillow.
- But if thy love were ever like to mine,
- As sure I think did never man love so,
- How many actions most ridiculous
- Hast thou been drawn to by thy fantasy?
- CORIN. Into a thousand that I have forgotten.
- SILVIUS. O, thou didst then never love so heartily!
- If thou rememb'rest not the slightest folly
- That ever love did make thee run into,
- Thou hast not lov'd;
- Or if thou hast not sat as I do now,
- Wearing thy hearer in thy mistress' praise,
- Thou hast not lov'd;
- Or if thou hast not broke from company
- Abruptly, as my passion now makes me,
- Thou hast not lov'd.
- O Phebe, Phebe, Phebe! Exit Silvius
- ROSALIND. Alas, poor shepherd! searching of thy wound,
- I have by hard adventure found mine own.
- TOUCHSTONE. And I mine. I remember, when I was in love, I broke my
- sword upon a stone, and bid him take that for coming a-night to
- Jane Smile; and I remember the kissing of her batler, and the
- cow's dugs that her pretty chopt hands had milk'd; and I remember
- the wooing of peascod instead of her; from whom I took two cods,
- and giving her them again, said with weeping tears 'Wear these
- for my sake.' We that are true lovers run into strange capers;
- but as all is mortal in nature, so is all nature in love mortal
- in folly.
- ROSALIND. Thou speak'st wiser than thou art ware of.
- TOUCHSTONE. Nay, I shall ne'er be ware of mine own wit till I break
- my shins against it.
- ROSALIND. Jove, Jove! this shepherd's passion
- Is much upon my fashion.
- TOUCHSTONE. And mine; but it grows something stale with me.
- CELIA. I pray you, one of you question yond man
- If he for gold will give us any food;
- I faint almost to death.
- TOUCHSTONE. Holla, you clown!
- ROSALIND. Peace, fool; he's not thy Ensman.
- CORIN. Who calls?
- TOUCHSTONE. Your betters, sir.
- CORIN. Else are they very wretched.
- ROSALIND. Peace, I say. Good even to you, friend.
- CORIN. And to you, gentle sir, and to you all.
- ROSALIND. I prithee, shepherd, if that love or gold
- Can in this desert place buy entertainment,
- Bring us where we may rest ourselves and feed.
- Here's a young maid with travel much oppress'd,
- And faints for succour.
- CORIN. Fair sir, I pity her,
- And wish, for her sake more than for mine own,
- My fortunes were more able to relieve her;
- But I am shepherd to another man,
- And do not shear the fleeces that I graze.
- My master is of churlish disposition,
- And little recks to find the way to heaven
- By doing deeds of hospitality.
- Besides, his cote, his flocks, and bounds of feed,
- Are now on sale; and at our sheepcote now,
- By reason of his absence, there is nothing
- That you will feed on; but what is, come see,
- And in my voice most welcome shall you be.
- ROSALIND. What is he that shall buy his flock and pasture?
- CORIN. That young swain that you saw here but erewhile,
- That little cares for buying any thing.
- ROSALIND. I pray thee, if it stand with honesty,
- Buy thou the cottage, pasture, and the flock,
- And thou shalt have to pay for it of us.
- CELIA. And we will mend thy wages. I like this place,
- And willingly could waste my time in it.
- CORIN. Assuredly the thing is to be sold.
- Go with me; if you like upon report
- The soil, the profit, and this kind of life,
- I will your very faithful feeder be,
- And buy it with your gold right suddenly. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE V.
-Another part of the forest
-
-Enter AMIENS, JAQUES, and OTHERS
-
- SONG
- AMIENS. Under the greenwood tree
- Who loves to lie with me,
- And turn his merry note
- Unto the sweet bird's throat,
- Come hither, come hither, come hither.
- Here shall he see
- No enemy
- But winter and rough weather.
-
- JAQUES. More, more, I prithee, more.
- AMIENS. It will make you melancholy, Monsieur Jaques.
- JAQUES. I thank it. More, I prithee, more. I can suck melancholy
- out of a song, as a weasel sucks eggs. More, I prithee, more.
- AMIENS. My voice is ragged; I know I cannot please you.
- JAQUES. I do not desire you to please me; I do desire you to sing.
- Come, more; another stanzo. Call you 'em stanzos?
- AMIENS. What you will, Monsieur Jaques.
- JAQUES. Nay, I care not for their names; they owe me nothing. Will
- you sing?
- AMIENS. More at your request than to please myself.
- JAQUES. Well then, if ever I thank any man, I'll thank you; but
- that they call compliment is like th' encounter of two dog-apes;
- and when a man thanks me heartily, methinks have given him a
- penny, and he renders me the beggarly thanks. Come, sing; and you
- that will not, hold your tongues.
- AMIENS. Well, I'll end the song. Sirs, cover the while; the Duke
- will drink under this tree. He hath been all this day to look
- you.
- JAQUES. And I have been all this day to avoid him. He is to
- disputable for my company. I think of as many matters as he; but
- I give heaven thanks, and make no boast of them. Come, warble,
- come.
-
- SONG
- [All together here]
-
- Who doth ambition shun,
- And loves to live i' th' sun,
- Seeking the food he eats,
- And pleas'd with what he gets,
- Come hither, come hither, come hither.
- Here shall he see
- No enemy
- But winter and rough weather.
-
- JAQUES. I'll give you a verse to this note that I made yesterday in
- despite of my invention.
- AMIENS. And I'll sing it.
- JAQUES. Thus it goes:
-
- If it do come to pass
- That any man turn ass,
- Leaving his wealth and ease
- A stubborn will to please,
- Ducdame, ducdame, ducdame;
- Here shall he see
- Gross fools as he,
- An if he will come to me.
-
- AMIENS. What's that 'ducdame'?
- JAQUES. 'Tis a Greek invocation, to call fools into a circle. I'll
- go sleep, if I can; if I cannot, I'll rail against all the
- first-born of Egypt.
- AMIENS. And I'll go seek the Duke; his banquet is prepar'd.
- Exeunt severally
-
-
-
-
-SCENE VI.
-The forest
-
-Enter ORLANDO and ADAM
-
- ADAM. Dear master, I can go no further. O, I die for food! Here lie
- I down, and measure out my grave. Farewell, kind master.
- ORLANDO. Why, how now, Adam! No greater heart in thee? Live a
- little; comfort a little; cheer thyself a little. If this uncouth
- forest yield anything savage, I will either be food for it or
- bring it for food to thee. Thy conceit is nearer death than thy
- powers. For my sake be comfortable; hold death awhile at the
- arm's end. I will here be with the presently; and if I bring thee
- not something to eat, I will give thee leave to die; but if thou
- diest before I come, thou art a mocker of my labour. Well said!
- thou look'st cheerly; and I'll be with thee quickly. Yet thou
- liest in the bleak air. Come, I will bear thee to some shelter;
- and thou shalt not die for lack of a dinner, if there live
- anything in this desert. Cheerly, good Adam! Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE VII.
-The forest
-
-A table set out. Enter DUKE SENIOR, AMIENS, and LORDS, like outlaws
-
- DUKE SENIOR. I think he be transform'd into a beast;
- For I can nowhere find him like a man.
- FIRST LORD. My lord, he is but even now gone hence;
- Here was he merry, hearing of a song.
- DUKE SENIOR. If he, compact of jars, grow musical,
- We shall have shortly discord in the spheres.
- Go seek him; tell him I would speak with him.
-
- Enter JAQUES
-
- FIRST LORD. He saves my labour by his own approach.
- DUKE SENIOR. Why, how now, monsieur! what a life is this,
- That your poor friends must woo your company?
- What, you look merrily!
- JAQUES. A fool, a fool! I met a fool i' th' forest,
- A motley fool. A miserable world!
- As I do live by food, I met a fool,
- Who laid him down and bask'd him in the sun,
- And rail'd on Lady Fortune in good terms,
- In good set terms- and yet a motley fool.
- 'Good morrow, fool,' quoth I; 'No, sir,' quoth he,
- 'Call me not fool till heaven hath sent me fortune.'
- And then he drew a dial from his poke,
- And, looking on it with lack-lustre eye,
- Says very wisely, 'It is ten o'clock;
- Thus we may see,' quoth he, 'how the world wags;
- 'Tis but an hour ago since it was nine;
- And after one hour more 'twill be eleven;
- And so, from hour to hour, we ripe and ripe,
- And then, from hour to hour, we rot and rot;
- And thereby hangs a tale.' When I did hear
- The motley fool thus moral on the time,
- My lungs began to crow like chanticleer
- That fools should be so deep contemplative;
- And I did laugh sans intermission
- An hour by his dial. O noble fool!
- A worthy fool! Motley's the only wear.
- DUKE SENIOR. What fool is this?
- JAQUES. O worthy fool! One that hath been a courtier,
- And says, if ladies be but young and fair,
- They have the gift to know it; and in his brain,
- Which is as dry as the remainder biscuit
- After a voyage, he hath strange places cramm'd
- With observation, the which he vents
- In mangled forms. O that I were a fool!
- I am ambitious for a motley coat.
- DUKE SENIOR. Thou shalt have one.
- JAQUES. It is my only suit,
- Provided that you weed your better judgments
- Of all opinion that grows rank in them
- That I am wise. I must have liberty
- Withal, as large a charter as the wind,
- To blow on whom I please, for so fools have;
- And they that are most galled with my folly,
- They most must laugh. And why, sir, must they so?
- The why is plain as way to parish church:
- He that a fool doth very wisely hit
- Doth very foolishly, although he smart,
- Not to seem senseless of the bob; if not,
- The wise man's folly is anatomiz'd
- Even by the squand'ring glances of the fool.
- Invest me in my motley; give me leave
- To speak my mind, and I will through and through
- Cleanse the foul body of th' infected world,
- If they will patiently receive my medicine.
- DUKE SENIOR. Fie on thee! I can tell what thou wouldst do.
- JAQUES. What, for a counter, would I do but good?
- DUKE SENIOR. Most Mischievous foul sin, in chiding sin;
- For thou thyself hast been a libertine,
- As sensual as the brutish sting itself;
- And all th' embossed sores and headed evils
- That thou with license of free foot hast caught
- Wouldst thou disgorge into the general world.
- JAQUES. Why, who cries out on pride
- That can therein tax any private party?
- Doth it not flow as hugely as the sea,
- Till that the wearer's very means do ebb?
- What woman in the city do I name
- When that I say the city-woman bears
- The cost of princes on unworthy shoulders?
- Who can come in and say that I mean her,
- When such a one as she such is her neighbour?
- Or what is he of basest function
- That says his bravery is not on my cost,
- Thinking that I mean him, but therein suits
- His folly to the mettle of my speech?
- There then! how then? what then? Let me see wherein
- My tongue hath wrong'd him: if it do him right,
- Then he hath wrong'd himself; if he be free,
- Why then my taxing like a wild-goose flies,
- Unclaim'd of any man. But who comes here?
-
- Enter ORLANDO with his sword drawn
-
- ORLANDO. Forbear, and eat no more.
- JAQUES. Why, I have eat none yet.
- ORLANDO. Nor shalt not, till necessity be serv'd.
- JAQUES. Of what kind should this cock come of?
- DUKE SENIOR. Art thou thus bolden'd, man, by thy distress?
- Or else a rude despiser of good manners,
- That in civility thou seem'st so empty?
- ORLANDO. You touch'd my vein at first: the thorny point
- Of bare distress hath ta'en from me the show
- Of smooth civility; yet arn I inland bred,
- And know some nurture. But forbear, I say;
- He dies that touches any of this fruit
- Till I and my affairs are answered.
- JAQUES. An you will not be answer'd with reason, I must die.
- DUKE SENIOR. What would you have? Your gentleness shall force
- More than your force move us to gentleness.
- ORLANDO. I almost die for food, and let me have it.
- DUKE SENIOR. Sit down and feed, and welcome to our table.
- ORLANDO. Speak you so gently? Pardon me, I pray you;
- I thought that all things had been savage here,
- And therefore put I on the countenance
- Of stern commandment. But whate'er you are
- That in this desert inaccessible,
- Under the shade of melancholy boughs,
- Lose and neglect the creeping hours of time;
- If ever you have look'd on better days,
- If ever been where bells have knoll'd to church,
- If ever sat at any good man's feast,
- If ever from your eyelids wip'd a tear,
- And know what 'tis to pity and be pitied,
- Let gentleness my strong enforcement be;
- In the which hope I blush, and hide my sword.
- DUKE SENIOR. True is it that we have seen better days,
- And have with holy bell been knoll'd to church,
- And sat at good men's feasts, and wip'd our eyes
- Of drops that sacred pity hath engend'red;
- And therefore sit you down in gentleness,
- And take upon command what help we have
- That to your wanting may be minist'red.
- ORLANDO. Then but forbear your food a little while,
- Whiles, like a doe, I go to find my fawn,
- And give it food. There is an old poor man
- Who after me hath many a weary step
- Limp'd in pure love; till he be first suffic'd,
- Oppress'd with two weak evils, age and hunger,
- I will not touch a bit.
- DUKE SENIOR. Go find him out.
- And we will nothing waste till you return.
- ORLANDO. I thank ye; and be blest for your good comfort!
- Exit
- DUKE SENIOR. Thou seest we are not all alone unhappy:
- This wide and universal theatre
- Presents more woeful pageants than the scene
- Wherein we play in.
- JAQUES. All the world's a stage,
- And all the men and women merely players;
- They have their exits and their entrances;
- And one man in his time plays many parts,
- His acts being seven ages. At first the infant,
- Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms;
- Then the whining school-boy, with his satchel
- And shining morning face, creeping like snail
- Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
- Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
- Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,
- Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard,
- Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,
- Seeking the bubble reputation
- Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice,
- In fair round belly with good capon lin'd,
- With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
- Full of wise saws and modern instances;
- And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
- Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon,
- With spectacles on nose and pouch on side,
- His youthful hose, well sav'd, a world too wide
- For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,
- Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
- And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
- That ends this strange eventful history,
- Is second childishness and mere oblivion;
- Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans every thing.
-
- Re-enter ORLANDO with ADAM
-
- DUKE SENIOR. Welcome. Set down your venerable burden.
- And let him feed.
- ORLANDO. I thank you most for him.
- ADAM. So had you need;
- I scarce can speak to thank you for myself.
- DUKE SENIOR. Welcome; fall to. I will not trouble you
- As yet to question you about your fortunes.
- Give us some music; and, good cousin, sing.
-
- SONG
- Blow, blow, thou winter wind,
- Thou art not so unkind
- As man's ingratitude;
- Thy tooth is not so keen,
- Because thou art not seen,
- Although thy breath be rude.
- Heigh-ho! sing heigh-ho! unto the green holly.
- Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly.
- Then, heigh-ho, the holly!
- This life is most jolly.
-
- Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky,
- That dost not bite so nigh
- As benefits forgot;
- Though thou the waters warp,
- Thy sting is not so sharp
- As friend rememb'red not.
- Heigh-ho! sing, &c.
-
- DUKE SENIOR. If that you were the good Sir Rowland's son,
- As you have whisper'd faithfully you were,
- And as mine eye doth his effigies witness
- Most truly limn'd and living in your face,
- Be truly welcome hither. I am the Duke
- That lov'd your father. The residue of your fortune,
- Go to my cave and tell me. Good old man,
- Thou art right welcome as thy master is.
- Support him by the arm. Give me your hand,
- And let me all your fortunes understand. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-ACT III. SCENE I.
-The palace
-
-Enter DUKE FREDERICK, OLIVER, and LORDS
-
- FREDERICK. Not see him since! Sir, sir, that cannot be.
- But were I not the better part made mercy,
- I should not seek an absent argument
- Of my revenge, thou present. But look to it:
- Find out thy brother wheresoe'er he is;
- Seek him with candle; bring him dead or living
- Within this twelvemonth, or turn thou no more
- To seek a living in our territory.
- Thy lands and all things that thou dost call thine
- Worth seizure do we seize into our hands,
- Till thou canst quit thee by thy brother's mouth
- Of what we think against thee.
- OLIVER. O that your Highness knew my heart in this!
- I never lov'd my brother in my life.
- FREDERICK. More villain thou. Well, push him out of doors;
- And let my officers of such a nature
- Make an extent upon his house and lands.
- Do this expediently, and turn him going. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-The forest
-
-Enter ORLANDO, with a paper
-
- ORLANDO. Hang there, my verse, in witness of my love;
- And thou, thrice-crowned Queen of Night, survey
- With thy chaste eye, from thy pale sphere above,
- Thy huntress' name that my full life doth sway.
- O Rosalind! these trees shall be my books,
- And in their barks my thoughts I'll character,
- That every eye which in this forest looks
- Shall see thy virtue witness'd every where.
- Run, run, Orlando; carve on every tree,
- The fair, the chaste, and unexpressive she. Exit
-
- Enter CORIN and TOUCHSTONE
-
- CORIN. And how like you this shepherd's life, Master Touchstone?
- TOUCHSTONE. Truly, shepherd, in respect of itself, it is a good
- life; but in respect that it is a shepherd's life, it is nought.
- In respect that it is solitary, I like it very well; but in
- respect that it is private, it is a very vile life. Now in
- respect it is in the fields, it pleaseth me well; but in respect
- it is not in the court, it is tedious. As it is a spare life,
- look you, it fits my humour well; but as there is no more plenty
- in it, it goes much against my stomach. Hast any philosophy in
- thee, shepherd?
- CORIN. No more but that I know the more one sickens the worse at
- ease he is; and that he that wants money, means, and content, is
- without three good friends; that the property of rain is to wet,
- and fire to burn; that good pasture makes fat sheep; and that a
- great cause of the night is lack of the sun; that he that hath
- learned no wit by nature nor art may complain of good breeding,
- or comes of a very dull kindred.
- TOUCHSTONE. Such a one is a natural philosopher. Wast ever in
- court, shepherd?
- CORIN. No, truly.
- TOUCHSTONE. Then thou art damn'd.
- CORIN. Nay, I hope.
- TOUCHSTONE. Truly, thou art damn'd, like an ill-roasted egg, all on
- one side.
- CORIN. For not being at court? Your reason.
- TOUCHSTONE. Why, if thou never wast at court thou never saw'st good
- manners; if thou never saw'st good manners, then thy manners must
- be wicked; and wickedness is sin, and sin is damnation. Thou art
- in a parlous state, shepherd.
- CORIN. Not a whit, Touchstone. Those that are good manners at the
- court are as ridiculous in the country as the behaviour of the
- country is most mockable at the court. You told me you salute not
- at the court, but you kiss your hands; that courtesy would be
- uncleanly if courtiers were shepherds.
- TOUCHSTONE. Instance, briefly; come, instance.
- CORIN. Why, we are still handling our ewes; and their fells, you
- know, are greasy.
- TOUCHSTONE. Why, do not your courtier's hands sweat? And is not the
- grease of a mutton as wholesome as the sweat of a man? Shallow,
- shallow. A better instance, I say; come.
- CORIN. Besides, our hands are hard.
- TOUCHSTONE. Your lips will feel them the sooner. Shallow again. A
- more sounder instance; come.
- CORIN. And they are often tarr'd over with the surgery of our
- sheep; and would you have us kiss tar? The courtier's hands are
- perfum'd with civet.
- TOUCHSTONE. Most shallow man! thou worm's meat in respect of a good
- piece of flesh indeed! Learn of the wise, and perpend: civet is
- of a baser birth than tar- the very uncleanly flux of a cat. Mend
- the instance, shepherd.
- CORIN. You have too courtly a wit for me; I'll rest.
- TOUCHSTONE. Wilt thou rest damn'd? God help thee, shallow man! God
- make incision in thee! thou art raw.
- CORIN. Sir, I am a true labourer: I earn that I eat, get that I
- wear; owe no man hate, envy no man's happiness; glad of other
- men's good, content with my harm; and the greatest of my pride is
- to see my ewes graze and my lambs suck.
- TOUCHSTONE. That is another simple sin in you: to bring the ewes
- and the rams together, and to offer to get your living by the
- copulation of cattle; to be bawd to a bell-wether, and to betray
- a she-lamb of a twelvemonth to crooked-pated, old, cuckoldly ram,
- out of all reasonable match. If thou beest not damn'd for this,
- the devil himself will have no shepherds; I cannot see else how
- thou shouldst scape.
- CORIN. Here comes young Master Ganymede, my new mistress's brother.
-
- Enter ROSALIND, reading a paper
-
- ROSALIND. 'From the east to western Inde,
- No jewel is like Rosalinde.
- Her worth, being mounted on the wind,
- Through all the world bears Rosalinde.
- All the pictures fairest lin'd
- Are but black to Rosalinde.
- Let no face be kept in mind
- But the fair of Rosalinde.'
- TOUCHSTONE. I'll rhyme you so eight years together, dinners, and
- suppers, and sleeping hours, excepted. It is the right
- butter-women's rank to market.
- ROSALIND. Out, fool!
- TOUCHSTONE. For a taste:
- If a hart do lack a hind,
- Let him seek out Rosalinde.
- If the cat will after kind,
- So be sure will Rosalinde.
- Winter garments must be lin'd,
- So must slender Rosalinde.
- They that reap must sheaf and bind,
- Then to cart with Rosalinde.
- Sweetest nut hath sourest rind,
- Such a nut is Rosalinde.
- He that sweetest rose will find
- Must find love's prick and Rosalinde.
- This is the very false gallop of verses; why do you infect
- yourself with them?
- ROSALIND. Peace, you dull fool! I found them on a tree.
- TOUCHSTONE. Truly, the tree yields bad fruit.
- ROSALIND. I'll graff it with you, and then I shall graff it with a
- medlar. Then it will be the earliest fruit i' th' country; for
- you'll be rotten ere you be half ripe, and that's the right
- virtue of the medlar.
- TOUCHSTONE. You have said; but whether wisely or no, let the forest
- judge.
-
- Enter CELIA, with a writing
-
- ROSALIND. Peace!
- Here comes my sister, reading; stand aside.
- CELIA. 'Why should this a desert be?
- For it is unpeopled? No;
- Tongues I'll hang on every tree
- That shall civil sayings show.
- Some, how brief the life of man
- Runs his erring pilgrimage,
- That the streching of a span
- Buckles in his sum of age;
- Some, of violated vows
- 'Twixt the souls of friend and friend;
- But upon the fairest boughs,
- Or at every sentence end,
- Will I Rosalinda write,
- Teaching all that read to know
- The quintessence of every sprite
- Heaven would in little show.
- Therefore heaven Nature charg'd
- That one body should be fill'd
- With all graces wide-enlarg'd.
- Nature presently distill'd
- Helen's cheek, but not her heart,
- Cleopatra's majesty,
- Atalanta's better part,
- Sad Lucretia's modesty.
- Thus Rosalinde of many parts
- By heavenly synod was devis'd,
- Of many faces, eyes, and hearts,
- To have the touches dearest priz'd.
- Heaven would that she these gifts should have,
- And I to live and die her slave.'
- ROSALIND. O most gentle pulpiter! What tedious homily of love have
- you wearied your parishioners withal, and never cried 'Have
- patience, good people.'
- CELIA. How now! Back, friends; shepherd, go off a little; go with
- him, sirrah.
- TOUCHSTONE. Come, shepherd, let us make an honourable retreat;
- though not with bag and baggage, yet with scrip and scrippage.
- Exeunt CORIN and TOUCHSTONE
- CELIA. Didst thou hear these verses?
- ROSALIND. O, yes, I heard them all, and more too; for some of them
- had in them more feet than the verses would bear.
- CELIA. That's no matter; the feet might bear the verses.
- ROSALIND. Ay, but the feet were lame, and could not bear themselves
- without the verse, and therefore stood lamely in the verse.
- CELIA. But didst thou hear without wondering how thy name should be
- hang'd and carved upon these trees?
- ROSALIND. I was seven of the nine days out of the wonder before you
- came; for look here what I found on a palm-tree. I was never so
- berhym'd since Pythagoras' time that I was an Irish rat, which I
- can hardly remember.
- CELIA. Trow you who hath done this?
- ROSALIND. Is it a man?
- CELIA. And a chain, that you once wore, about his neck.
- Change you colour?
- ROSALIND. I prithee, who?
- CELIA. O Lord, Lord! it is a hard matter for friends to meet; but
- mountains may be remov'd with earthquakes, and so encounter.
- ROSALIND. Nay, but who is it?
- CELIA. Is it possible?
- ROSALIND. Nay, I prithee now, with most petitionary vehemence, tell
- me who it is.
- CELIA. O wonderful, wonderful, most wonderful wonderful, and yet
- again wonderful, and after that, out of all whooping!
- ROSALIND. Good my complexion! dost thou think, though I am
- caparison'd like a man, I have a doublet and hose in my
- disposition? One inch of delay more is a South Sea of discovery.
- I prithee tell me who is it quickly, and speak apace. I would
- thou could'st stammer, that thou mightst pour this conceal'd man
- out of thy mouth, as wine comes out of narrow-mouth'd bottle-
- either too much at once or none at all. I prithee take the cork
- out of thy mouth that I may drink thy tidings.
- CELIA. So you may put a man in your belly.
- ROSALIND. Is he of God's making? What manner of man?
- Is his head worth a hat or his chin worth a beard?
- CELIA. Nay, he hath but a little beard.
- ROSALIND. Why, God will send more if the man will be thankful. Let
- me stay the growth of his beard, if thou delay me not the
- knowledge of his chin.
- CELIA. It is young Orlando, that tripp'd up the wrestler's heels
- and your heart both in an instant.
- ROSALIND. Nay, but the devil take mocking! Speak sad brow and true
- maid.
- CELIA. I' faith, coz, 'tis he.
- ROSALIND. Orlando?
- CELIA. Orlando.
- ROSALIND. Alas the day! what shall I do with my doublet and hose?
- What did he when thou saw'st him? What said he? How look'd he?
- Wherein went he? What makes he here? Did he ask for me? Where
- remains he? How parted he with thee? And when shalt thou see him
- again? Answer me in one word.
- CELIA. You must borrow me Gargantua's mouth first; 'tis a word too
- great for any mouth of this age's size. To say ay and no to these
- particulars is more than to answer in a catechism.
- ROSALIND. But doth he know that I am in this forest, and in man's
- apparel? Looks he as freshly as he did the day he wrestled?
- CELIA. It is as easy to count atomies as to resolve the
- propositions of a lover; but take a taste of my finding him, and
- relish it with good observance. I found him under a tree, like a
- dropp'd acorn.
- ROSALIND. It may well be call'd Jove's tree, when it drops forth
- such fruit.
- CELIA. Give me audience, good madam.
- ROSALIND. Proceed.
- CELIA. There lay he, stretch'd along like a wounded knight.
- ROSALIND. Though it be pity to see such a sight, it well becomes
- the ground.
- CELIA. Cry 'Holla' to thy tongue, I prithee; it curvets
- unseasonably. He was furnish'd like a hunter.
- ROSALIND. O, ominous! he comes to kill my heart.
- CELIA. I would sing my song without a burden; thou bring'st me out
- of tune.
- ROSALIND. Do you not know I am a woman? When I think, I must speak.
- Sweet, say on.
- CELIA. You bring me out. Soft! comes he not here?
-
- Enter ORLANDO and JAQUES
-
- ROSALIND. 'Tis he; slink by, and note him.
- JAQUES. I thank you for your company; but, good faith, I had as
- lief have been myself alone.
- ORLANDO. And so had I; but yet, for fashion sake, I thank you too
- for your society.
- JAQUES. God buy you; let's meet as little as we can.
- ORLANDO. I do desire we may be better strangers.
- JAQUES. I pray you mar no more trees with writing love songs in
- their barks.
- ORLANDO. I pray you mar no more of my verses with reading them
- ill-favouredly.
- JAQUES. Rosalind is your love's name?
- ORLANDO. Yes, just.
- JAQUES. I do not like her name.
- ORLANDO. There was no thought of pleasing you when she was
- christen'd.
- JAQUES. What stature is she of?
- ORLANDO. Just as high as my heart.
- JAQUES. You are full of pretty answers. Have you not been
- acquainted with goldsmiths' wives, and conn'd them out of rings?
- ORLANDO. Not so; but I answer you right painted cloth, from whence
- you have studied your questions.
- JAQUES. You have a nimble wit; I think 'twas made of Atalanta's
- heels. Will you sit down with me? and we two will rail against
- our mistress the world, and all our misery.
- ORLANDO. I will chide no breather in the world but myself, against
- whom I know most faults.
- JAQUES. The worst fault you have is to be in love.
- ORLANDO. 'Tis a fault I will not change for your best virtue. I am
- weary of you.
- JAQUES. By my troth, I was seeking for a fool when I found you.
- ORLANDO. He is drown'd in the brook; look but in, and you shall see
- him.
- JAQUES. There I shall see mine own figure.
- ORLANDO. Which I take to be either a fool or a cipher.
- JAQUES. I'll tarry no longer with you; farewell, good Signior Love.
- ORLANDO. I am glad of your departure; adieu, good Monsieur
- Melancholy.
- Exit JAQUES
- ROSALIND. [Aside to CELIA] I will speak to him like a saucy lackey,
- and under that habit play the knave with him.- Do you hear,
- forester?
- ORLANDO. Very well; what would you?
- ROSALIND. I pray you, what is't o'clock?
- ORLANDO. You should ask me what time o' day; there's no clock in
- the forest.
- ROSALIND. Then there is no true lover in the forest, else sighing
- every minute and groaning every hour would detect the lazy foot
- of Time as well as a clock.
- ORLANDO. And why not the swift foot of Time? Had not that been as
- proper?
- ROSALIND. By no means, sir. Time travels in divers paces with
- divers persons. I'll tell you who Time ambles withal, who Time
- trots withal, who Time gallops withal, and who he stands still
- withal.
- ORLANDO. I prithee, who doth he trot withal?
- ROSALIND. Marry, he trots hard with a young maid between the
- contract of her marriage and the day it is solemniz'd; if the
- interim be but a se'nnight, Time's pace is so hard that it seems
- the length of seven year.
- ORLANDO. Who ambles Time withal?
- ROSALIND. With a priest that lacks Latin and a rich man that hath
- not the gout; for the one sleeps easily because he cannot study,
- and the other lives merrily because he feels no pain; the one
- lacking the burden of lean and wasteful learning, the other
- knowing no burden of heavy tedious penury. These Time ambles
- withal.
- ORLANDO. Who doth he gallop withal?
- ROSALIND. With a thief to the gallows; for though he go as softly
- as foot can fall, he thinks himself too soon there.
- ORLANDO. Who stays it still withal?
- ROSALIND. With lawyers in the vacation; for they sleep between term
- and term, and then they perceive not how Time moves.
- ORLANDO. Where dwell you, pretty youth?
- ROSALIND. With this shepherdess, my sister; here in the skirts of
- the forest, like fringe upon a petticoat.
- ORLANDO. Are you native of this place?
- ROSALIND. As the coney that you see dwell where she is kindled.
- ORLANDO. Your accent is something finer than you could purchase in
- so removed a dwelling.
- ROSALIND. I have been told so of many; but indeed an old religious
- uncle of mine taught me to speak, who was in his youth an inland
- man; one that knew courtship too well, for there he fell in love.
- I have heard him read many lectures against it; and I thank God I
- am not a woman, to be touch'd with so many giddy offences as he
- hath generally tax'd their whole sex withal.
- ORLANDO. Can you remember any of the principal evils that he laid
- to the charge of women?
- ROSALIND. There were none principal; they were all like one another
- as halfpence are; every one fault seeming monstrous till his
- fellow-fault came to match it.
- ORLANDO. I prithee recount some of them.
- ROSALIND. No; I will not cast away my physic but on those that are
- sick. There is a man haunts the forest that abuses our young
- plants with carving 'Rosalind' on their barks; hangs odes upon
- hawthorns and elegies on brambles; all, forsooth, deifying the
- name of Rosalind. If I could meet that fancy-monger, I would give
- him some good counsel, for he seems to have the quotidian of love
- upon him.
- ORLANDO. I am he that is so love-shak'd; I pray you tell me your
- remedy.
- ROSALIND. There is none of my uncle's marks upon you; he taught me
- how to know a man in love; in which cage of rushes I am sure you
- are not prisoner.
- ORLANDO. What were his marks?
- ROSALIND. A lean cheek, which you have not; a blue eye and sunken,
- which you have not; an unquestionable spirit, which you have not;
- a beard neglected, which you have not; but I pardon you for that,
- for simply your having in beard is a younger brother's revenue.
- Then your hose should be ungarter'd, your bonnet unbanded, your
- sleeve unbutton'd, your shoe untied, and every thing about you
- demonstrating a careless desolation. But you are no such man; you
- are rather point-device in your accoutrements, as loving yourself
- than seeming the lover of any other.
- ORLANDO. Fair youth, I would I could make thee believe I love.
- ROSALIND. Me believe it! You may as soon make her that you love
- believe it; which, I warrant, she is apter to do than to confess
- she does. That is one of the points in the which women still give
- the lie to their consciences. But, in good sooth, are you he that
- hangs the verses on the trees wherein Rosalind is so admired?
- ORLANDO. I swear to thee, youth, by the white hand of Rosalind, I
- am that he, that unfortunate he.
- ROSALIND. But are you so much in love as your rhymes speak?
- ORLANDO. Neither rhyme nor reason can express how much.
- ROSALIND. Love is merely a madness; and, I tell you, deserves as
- well a dark house and a whip as madmen do; and the reason why
- they are not so punish'd and cured is that the lunacy is so
- ordinary that the whippers are in love too. Yet I profess curing
- it by counsel.
- ORLANDO. Did you ever cure any so?
- ROSALIND. Yes, one; and in this manner. He was to imagine me his
- love, his mistress; and I set him every day to woo me; at which
- time would I, being but a moonish youth, grieve, be effeminate,
- changeable, longing and liking, proud, fantastical, apish,
- shallow, inconstant, full of tears, full of smiles; for every
- passion something and for no passion truly anything, as boys and
- women are for the most part cattle of this colour; would now like
- him, now loathe him; then entertain him, then forswear him; now
- weep for him, then spit at him; that I drave my suitor from his
- mad humour of love to a living humour of madness; which was, to
- forswear the full stream of the world and to live in a nook
- merely monastic. And thus I cur'd him; and this way will I take
- upon me to wash your liver as clean as a sound sheep's heart,
- that there shall not be one spot of love in 't.
- ORLANDO. I would not be cured, youth.
- ROSALIND. I would cure you, if you would but call me Rosalind, and
- come every day to my cote and woo me.
- ORLANDO. Now, by the faith of my love, I will. Tell me where it is.
- ROSALIND. Go with me to it, and I'll show it you; and, by the way,
- you shall tell me where in the forest you live. Will you go?
- ORLANDO. With all my heart, good youth.
- ROSALIND. Nay, you must call me Rosalind. Come, sister, will you
- go? Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-The forest
-
-Enter TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY; JAQUES behind
-
- TOUCHSTONE. Come apace, good Audrey; I will fetch up your goats,
- Audrey. And how, Audrey, am I the man yet? Doth my simple feature
- content you?
- AUDREY. Your features! Lord warrant us! What features?
- TOUCHSTONE. I am here with thee and thy goats, as the most
- capricious poet, honest Ovid, was among the Goths.
- JAQUES. [Aside] O knowledge ill-inhabited, worse than Jove in a
- thatch'd house!
- TOUCHSTONE. When a man's verses cannot be understood, nor a man's
- good wit seconded with the forward child understanding, it
- strikes a man more dead than a great reckoning in a little room.
- Truly, I would the gods had made thee poetical.
- AUDREY. I do not know what 'poetical' is. Is it honest in deed and
- word? Is it a true thing?
- TOUCHSTONE. No, truly; for the truest poetry is the most feigning,
- and lovers are given to poetry; and what they swear in poetry may
- be said as lovers they do feign.
- AUDREY. Do you wish, then, that the gods had made me poetical?
- TOUCHSTONE. I do, truly, for thou swear'st to me thou art honest;
- now, if thou wert a poet, I might have some hope thou didst
- feign.
- AUDREY. Would you not have me honest?
- TOUCHSTONE. No, truly, unless thou wert hard-favour'd; for honesty
- coupled to beauty is to have honey a sauce to sugar.
- JAQUES. [Aside] A material fool!
- AUDREY. Well, I am not fair; and therefore I pray the gods make me
- honest.
- TOUCHSTONE. Truly, and to cast away honesty upon a foul slut were
- to put good meat into an unclean dish.
- AUDREY. I am not a slut, though I thank the gods I am foul.
- TOUCHSTONE. Well, praised be the gods for thy foulness;
- sluttishness may come hereafter. But be it as it may be, I will
- marry thee; and to that end I have been with Sir Oliver Martext,
- the vicar of the next village, who hath promis'd to meet me in
- this place of the forest, and to couple us.
- JAQUES. [Aside] I would fain see this meeting.
- AUDREY. Well, the gods give us joy!
- TOUCHSTONE. Amen. A man may, if he were of a fearful heart, stagger
- in this attempt; for here we have no temple but the wood, no
- assembly but horn-beasts. But what though? Courage! As horns are
- odious, they are necessary. It is said: 'Many a man knows no end
- of his goods.' Right! Many a man has good horns and knows no end
- of them. Well, that is the dowry of his wife; 'tis none of his
- own getting. Horns? Even so. Poor men alone? No, no; the noblest
- deer hath them as huge as the rascal. Is the single man therefore
- blessed? No; as a wall'd town is more worthier than a village, so
- is the forehead of a married man more honourable than the bare
- brow of a bachelor; and by how much defence is better than no
- skill, by so much is horn more precious than to want. Here comes
- Sir Oliver.
-
- Enter SIR OLIVER MARTEXT
-
- Sir Oliver Martext, you are well met. Will you dispatch us here
- under this tree, or shall we go with you to your chapel?
- MARTEXT. Is there none here to give the woman?
- TOUCHSTONE. I will not take her on gift of any man.
- MARTEXT. Truly, she must be given, or the marriage is not lawful.
- JAQUES. [Discovering himself] Proceed, proceed; I'll give her.
- TOUCHSTONE. Good even, good Master What-ye-call't; how do you, sir?
- You are very well met. Goddild you for your last company. I am
- very glad to see you. Even a toy in hand here, sir. Nay; pray be
- cover'd.
- JAQUES. Will you be married, motley?
- TOUCHSTONE. As the ox hath his bow, sir, the horse his curb, and
- the falcon her bells, so man hath his desires; and as pigeons
- bill, so wedlock would be nibbling.
- JAQUES. And will you, being a man of your breeding, be married
- under a bush, like a beggar? Get you to church and have a good
- priest that can tell you what marriage is; this fellow will but
- join you together as they join wainscot; then one of you will
- prove a shrunk panel, and like green timber warp, warp.
- TOUCHSTONE. [Aside] I am not in the mind but I were better to be
- married of him than of another; for he is not like to marry me
- well; and not being well married, it will be a good excuse for me
- hereafter to leave my wife.
- JAQUES. Go thou with me, and let me counsel thee.
- TOUCHSTONE. Come, sweet Audrey;
- We must be married or we must live in bawdry.
- Farewell, good Master Oliver. Not-
- O sweet Oliver,
- O brave Oliver,
- Leave me not behind thee.
- But-
- Wind away,
- Begone, I say,
- I will not to wedding with thee.
- Exeunt JAQUES, TOUCHSTONE, and AUDREY
- MARTEXT. 'Tis no matter; ne'er a fantastical knave of them all
- shall flout me out of my calling. Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE IV.
-The forest
-
-Enter ROSALIND and CELIA
-
- ROSALIND. Never talk to me; I will weep.
- CELIA. Do, I prithee; but yet have the grace to consider that tears
- do not become a man.
- ROSALIND. But have I not cause to weep?
- CELIA. As good cause as one would desire; therefore weep.
- ROSALIND. His very hair is of the dissembling colour.
- CELIA. Something browner than Judas's.
- Marry, his kisses are Judas's own children.
- ROSALIND. I' faith, his hair is of a good colour.
- CELIA. An excellent colour: your chestnut was ever the only colour.
- ROSALIND. And his kissing is as full of sanctity as the touch of
- holy bread.
- CELIA. He hath bought a pair of cast lips of Diana. A nun of
- winter's sisterhood kisses not more religiously; the very ice of
- chastity is in them.
- ROSALIND. But why did he swear he would come this morning, and
- comes not?
- CELIA. Nay, certainly, there is no truth in him.
- ROSALIND. Do you think so?
- CELIA. Yes; I think he is not a pick-purse nor a horse-stealer; but
- for his verity in love, I do think him as concave as covered
- goblet or a worm-eaten nut.
- ROSALIND. Not true in love?
- CELIA. Yes, when he is in; but I think he is not in.
- ROSALIND. You have heard him swear downright he was.
- CELIA. 'Was' is not 'is'; besides, the oath of a lover is no
- stronger than the word of a tapster; they are both the confirmer
- of false reckonings. He attends here in the forest on the Duke,
- your father.
- ROSALIND. I met the Duke yesterday, and had much question with him.
- He asked me of what parentage I was; I told him, of as good as
- he; so he laugh'd and let me go. But what talk we of fathers when
- there is such a man as Orlando?
- CELIA. O, that's a brave man! He writes brave verses, speaks brave
- words, swears brave oaths, and breaks them bravely, quite
- traverse, athwart the heart of his lover; as a puny tilter, that
- spurs his horse but on one side, breaks his staff like a noble
- goose. But all's brave that youth mounts and folly guides. Who
- comes here?
-
- Enter CORIN
-
- CORIN. Mistress and master, you have oft enquired
- After the shepherd that complain'd of love,
- Who you saw sitting by me on the turf,
- Praising the proud disdainful shepherdess
- That was his mistress.
- CELIA. Well, and what of him?
- CORIN. If you will see a pageant truly play'd
- Between the pale complexion of true love
- And the red glow of scorn and proud disdain,
- Go hence a little, and I shall conduct you,
- If you will mark it.
- ROSALIND. O, come, let us remove!
- The sight of lovers feedeth those in love.
- Bring us to this sight, and you shall say
- I'll prove a busy actor in their play. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE V.
-Another part of the forest
-
-Enter SILVIUS and PHEBE
-
- SILVIUS. Sweet Phebe, do not scorn me; do not, Phebe.
- Say that you love me not; but say not so
- In bitterness. The common executioner,
- Whose heart th' accustom'd sight of death makes hard,
- Falls not the axe upon the humbled neck
- But first begs pardon. Will you sterner be
- Than he that dies and lives by bloody drops?
-
- Enter ROSALIND, CELIA, and CORIN, at a distance
-
- PHEBE. I would not be thy executioner;
- I fly thee, for I would not injure thee.
- Thou tell'st me there is murder in mine eye.
- 'Tis pretty, sure, and very probable,
- That eyes, that are the frail'st and softest things,
- Who shut their coward gates on atomies,
- Should be call'd tyrants, butchers, murderers!
- Now I do frown on thee with all my heart;
- And if mine eyes can wound, now let them kill thee.
- Now counterfeit to swoon; why, now fall down;
- Or, if thou canst not, O, for shame, for shame,
- Lie not, to say mine eyes are murderers.
- Now show the wound mine eye hath made in thee.
- Scratch thee but with a pin, and there remains
- Some scar of it; lean upon a rush,
- The cicatrice and capable impressure
- Thy palm some moment keeps; but now mine eyes,
- Which I have darted at thee, hurt thee not;
- Nor, I am sure, there is not force in eyes
- That can do hurt.
- SILVIUS. O dear Phebe,
- If ever- as that ever may be near-
- You meet in some fresh cheek the power of fancy,
- Then shall you know the wounds invisible
- That love's keen arrows make.
- PHEBE. But till that time
- Come not thou near me; and when that time comes,
- Afflict me with thy mocks, pity me not;
- As till that time I shall not pity thee.
- ROSALIND. [Advancing] And why, I pray you? Who might be your
- mother,
- That you insult, exult, and all at once,
- Over the wretched? What though you have no beauty-
- As, by my faith, I see no more in you
- Than without candle may go dark to bed-
- Must you be therefore proud and pitiless?
- Why, what means this? Why do you look on me?
- I see no more in you than in the ordinary
- Of nature's sale-work. 'Od's my little life,
- I think she means to tangle my eyes too!
- No faith, proud mistress, hope not after it;
- 'Tis not your inky brows, your black silk hair,
- Your bugle eyeballs, nor your cheek of cream,
- That can entame my spirits to your worship.
- You foolish shepherd, wherefore do you follow her,
- Like foggy south, puffing with wind and rain?
- You are a thousand times a properer man
- Than she a woman. 'Tis such fools as you
- That makes the world full of ill-favour'd children.
- 'Tis not her glass, but you, that flatters her;
- And out of you she sees herself more proper
- Than any of her lineaments can show her.
- But, mistress, know yourself. Down on your knees,
- And thank heaven, fasting, for a good man's love;
- For I must tell you friendly in your ear:
- Sell when you can; you are not for all markets.
- Cry the man mercy, love him, take his offer;
- Foul is most foul, being foul to be a scoffer.
- So take her to thee, shepherd. Fare you well.
- PHEBE. Sweet youth, I pray you chide a year together;
- I had rather hear you chide than this man woo.
- ROSALIND. He's fall'n in love with your foulness, and she'll fall
- in love with my anger. If it be so, as fast as she answers thee
- with frowning looks, I'll sauce her with bitter words. Why look
- you so upon me?
- PHEBE. For no ill will I bear you.
- ROSALIND. I pray you do not fall in love with me,
- For I am falser than vows made in wine;
- Besides, I like you not. If you will know my house,
- 'Tis at the tuft of olives here hard by.
- Will you go, sister? Shepherd, ply her hard.
- Come, sister. Shepherdess, look on him better,
- And be not proud; though all the world could see,
- None could be so abus'd in sight as he.
- Come, to our flock. Exeunt ROSALIND, CELIA, and CORIN
- PHEBE. Dead shepherd, now I find thy saw of might:
- 'Who ever lov'd that lov'd not at first sight?'
- SILVIUS. Sweet Phebe.
- PHEBE. Ha! what say'st thou, Silvius?
- SILVIUS. Sweet Phebe, pity me.
- PHEBE. Why, I arn sorry for thee, gentle Silvius.
- SILVIUS. Wherever sorrow is, relief would be.
- If you do sorrow at my grief in love,
- By giving love, your sorrow and my grief
- Were both extermin'd.
- PHEBE. Thou hast my love; is not that neighbourly?
- SILVIUS. I would have you.
- PHEBE. Why, that were covetousness.
- Silvius, the time was that I hated thee;
- And yet it is not that I bear thee love;
- But since that thou canst talk of love so well,
- Thy company, which erst was irksome to me,
- I will endure; and I'll employ thee too.
- But do not look for further recompense
- Than thine own gladness that thou art employ'd.
- SILVIUS. So holy and so perfect is my love,
- And I in such a poverty of grace,
- That I shall think it a most plenteous crop
- To glean the broken ears after the man
- That the main harvest reaps; loose now and then
- A scatt'red smile, and that I'll live upon.
- PHEBE. Know'st thou the youth that spoke to me erewhile?
- SILVIUS. Not very well; but I have met him oft;
- And he hath bought the cottage and the bounds
- That the old carlot once was master of.
- PHEBE. Think not I love him, though I ask for him;
- 'Tis but a peevish boy; yet he talks well.
- But what care I for words? Yet words do well
- When he that speaks them pleases those that hear.
- It is a pretty youth- not very pretty;
- But, sure, he's proud; and yet his pride becomes him.
- He'll make a proper man. The best thing in him
- Is his complexion; and faster than his tongue
- Did make offence, his eye did heal it up.
- He is not very tall; yet for his years he's tall;
- His leg is but so-so; and yet 'tis well.
- There was a pretty redness in his lip,
- A little riper and more lusty red
- Than that mix'd in his cheek; 'twas just the difference
- Betwixt the constant red and mingled damask.
- There be some women, Silvius, had they mark'd him
- In parcels as I did, would have gone near
- To fall in love with him; but, for my part,
- I love him not, nor hate him not; and yet
- I have more cause to hate him than to love him;
- For what had he to do to chide at me?
- He said mine eyes were black, and my hair black,
- And, now I am rememb'red, scorn'd at me.
- I marvel why I answer'd not again;
- But that's all one: omittance is no quittance.
- I'll write to him a very taunting letter,
- And thou shalt bear it; wilt thou, Silvius?
- SILVIUS. Phebe, with all my heart.
- PHEBE. I'll write it straight;
- The matter's in my head and in my heart;
- I will be bitter with him and passing short.
- Go with me, Silvius. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-ACT IV. SCENE I.
-The forest
-
-Enter ROSALIND, CELIA, and JAQUES
-
- JAQUES. I prithee, pretty youth, let me be better acquainted with
- thee.
- ROSALIND. They say you are a melancholy fellow.
- JAQUES. I am so; I do love it better than laughing.
- ROSALIND. Those that are in extremity of either are abominable
- fellows, and betray themselves to every modern censure worse than
- drunkards.
- JAQUES. Why, 'tis good to be sad and say nothing.
- ROSALIND. Why then, 'tis good to be a post.
- JAQUES. I have neither the scholar's melancholy, which is
- emulation; nor the musician's, which is fantastical; nor the
- courtier's, which is proud; nor the soldier's, which is
- ambitious; nor the lawyer's, which is politic; nor the lady's,
- which is nice; nor the lover's, which is all these; but it is a
- melancholy of mine own, compounded of many simples, extracted
- from many objects, and, indeed, the sundry contemplation of my
- travels; in which my often rumination wraps me in a most humorous
- sadness.
- ROSALIND. A traveller! By my faith, you have great reason to be
- sad. I fear you have sold your own lands to see other men's; then
- to have seen much and to have nothing is to have rich eyes and
- poor hands.
- JAQUES. Yes, I have gain'd my experience.
-
- Enter ORLANDO
-
- ROSALIND. And your experience makes you sad. I had rather have a
- fool to make me merry than experience to make me sad- and to
- travel for it too.
- ORLANDO. Good day, and happiness, dear Rosalind!
- JAQUES. Nay, then, God buy you, an you talk in blank verse.
- ROSALIND. Farewell, Monsieur Traveller; look you lisp and wear
- strange suits, disable all the benefits of your own country, be
- out of love with your nativity, and almost chide God for making
- you that countenance you are; or I will scarce think you have
- swam in a gondola. [Exit JAQUES] Why, how now, Orlando! where
- have you been all this while? You a lover! An you serve me such
- another trick, never come in my sight more.
- ORLANDO. My fair Rosalind, I come within an hour of my promise.
- ROSALIND. Break an hour's promise in love! He that will divide a
- minute into a thousand parts, and break but a part of the
- thousand part of a minute in the affairs of love, it may be said
- of him that Cupid hath clapp'd him o' th' shoulder, but I'll
- warrant him heart-whole.
- ORLANDO. Pardon me, dear Rosalind.
- ROSALIND. Nay, an you be so tardy, come no more in my sight. I had
- as lief be woo'd of a snail.
- ORLANDO. Of a snail!
- ROSALIND. Ay, of a snail; for though he comes slowly, he carries
- his house on his head- a better jointure, I think, than you make
- a woman; besides, he brings his destiny with him.
- ORLANDO. What's that?
- ROSALIND. Why, horns; which such as you are fain to be beholding to
- your wives for; but he comes armed in his fortune, and prevents
- the slander of his wife.
- ORLANDO. Virtue is no horn-maker; and my Rosalind is virtuous.
- ROSALIND. And I am your Rosalind.
- CELIA. It pleases him to call you so; but he hath a Rosalind of a
- better leer than you.
- ROSALIND. Come, woo me, woo me; for now I am in a holiday humour,
- and like enough to consent. What would you say to me now, an I
- were your very very Rosalind?
- ORLANDO. I would kiss before I spoke.
- ROSALIND. Nay, you were better speak first; and when you were
- gravell'd for lack of matter, you might take occasion to kiss.
- Very good orators, when they are out, they will spit; and for
- lovers lacking- God warn us!- matter, the cleanliest shift is to
- kiss.
- ORLANDO. How if the kiss be denied?
- ROSALIND. Then she puts you to entreaty, and there begins new
- matter.
- ORLANDO. Who could be out, being before his beloved mistress?
- ROSALIND. Marry, that should you, if I were your mistress; or I
- should think my honesty ranker than my wit.
- ORLANDO. What, of my suit?
- ROSALIND. Not out of your apparel, and yet out of your suit.
- Am not I your Rosalind?
- ORLANDO. I take some joy to say you are, because I would be talking
- of her.
- ROSALIND. Well, in her person, I say I will not have you.
- ORLANDO. Then, in mine own person, I die.
- ROSALIND. No, faith, die by attorney. The poor world is almost six
- thousand years old, and in all this time there was not any man
- died in his own person, videlicet, in a love-cause. Troilus had
- his brains dash'd out with a Grecian club; yet he did what he
- could to die before, and he is one of the patterns of love.
- Leander, he would have liv'd many a fair year, though Hero had
- turn'd nun, if it had not been for a hot midsummer night; for,
- good youth, he went but forth to wash him in the Hellespont, and,
- being taken with the cramp, was drown'd; and the foolish
- chroniclers of that age found it was- Hero of Sestos. But these
- are all lies: men have died from time to time, and worms have
- eaten them, but not for love.
- ORLANDO. I would not have my right Rosalind of this mind; for, I
- protest, her frown might kill me.
- ROSALIND. By this hand, it will not kill a fly. But come, now I
- will be your Rosalind in a more coming-on disposition; and ask me
- what you will, I will grant it.
- ORLANDO. Then love me, Rosalind.
- ROSALIND. Yes, faith, will I, Fridays and Saturdays, and all.
- ORLANDO. And wilt thou have me?
- ROSALIND. Ay, and twenty such.
- ORLANDO. What sayest thou?
- ROSALIND. Are you not good?
- ORLANDO. I hope so.
- ROSALIND. Why then, can one desire too much of a good thing? Come,
- sister, you shall be the priest, and marry us. Give me your hand,
- Orlando. What do you say, sister?
- ORLANDO. Pray thee, marry us.
- CELIA. I cannot say the words.
- ROSALIND. You must begin 'Will you, Orlando'-
- CELIA. Go to. Will you, Orlando, have to wife this Rosalind?
- ORLANDO. I will.
- ROSALIND. Ay, but when?
- ORLANDO. Why, now; as fast as she can marry us.
- ROSALIND. Then you must say 'I take thee, Rosalind, for wife.'
- ORLANDO. I take thee, Rosalind, for wife.
- ROSALIND. I might ask you for your commission; but- I do take thee,
- Orlando, for my husband. There's a girl goes before the priest;
- and, certainly, a woman's thought runs before her actions.
- ORLANDO. So do all thoughts; they are wing'd.
- ROSALIND. Now tell me how long you would have her, after you have
- possess'd her.
- ORLANDO. For ever and a day.
- ROSALIND. Say 'a day' without the 'ever.' No, no, Orlando; men are
- April when they woo, December when they wed: maids are May when
- they are maids, but the sky changes when they are wives. I will
- be more jealous of thee than a Barbary cock-pigeon over his hen,
- more clamorous than a parrot against rain, more new-fangled than
- an ape, more giddy in my desires than a monkey. I will weep for
- nothing, like Diana in the fountain, and I will do that when you
- are dispos'd to be merry; I will laugh like a hyen, and that when
- thou are inclin'd to sleep.
- ORLANDO. But will my Rosalind do so?
- ROSALIND. By my life, she will do as I do.
- ORLANDO. O, but she is wise.
- ROSALIND. Or else she could not have the wit to do this. The wiser,
- the waywarder. Make the doors upon a woman's wit, and it will out
- at the casement; shut that, and 'twill out at the key-hole; stop
- that, 'twill fly with the smoke out at the chimney.
- ORLANDO. A man that had a wife with such a wit, he might say 'Wit,
- whither wilt?' ROSALIND. Nay, you might keep that check for it, till you met your
- wife's wit going to your neighbour's bed.
- ORLANDO. And what wit could wit have to excuse that?
- ROSALIND. Marry, to say she came to seek you there. You shall never
- take her without her answer, unless you take her without her
- tongue. O, that woman that cannot make her fault her husband's
- occasion, let her never nurse her child herself, for she will
- breed it like a fool!
- ORLANDO. For these two hours, Rosalind, I will leave thee.
- ROSALIND. Alas, dear love, I cannot lack thee two hours!
- ORLANDO. I must attend the Duke at dinner; by two o'clock I will be
- with thee again.
- ROSALIND. Ay, go your ways, go your ways. I knew what you would
- prove; my friends told me as much, and I thought no less. That
- flattering tongue of yours won me. 'Tis but one cast away, and
- so, come death! Two o'clock is your hour?
- ORLANDO. Ay, sweet Rosalind.
- ROSALIND. By my troth, and in good earnest, and so God mend me, and
- by all pretty oaths that are not dangerous, if you break one jot
- of your promise, or come one minute behind your hour, I will
- think you the most pathetical break-promise, and the most hollow
- lover, and the most unworthy of her you call Rosalind, that may
- be chosen out of the gross band of the unfaithful. Therefore
- beware my censure, and keep your promise.
- ORLANDO. With no less religion than if thou wert indeed my
- Rosalind; so, adieu.
- ROSALIND. Well, Time is the old justice that examines all such
- offenders, and let Time try. Adieu. Exit ORLANDO
- CELIA. You have simply misus'd our sex in your love-prate. We must
- have your doublet and hose pluck'd over your head, and show the
- world what the bird hath done to her own nest.
- ROSALIND. O coz, coz, coz, my pretty little coz, that thou didst
- know how many fathom deep I am in love! But it cannot be sounded;
- my affection hath an unknown bottom, like the Bay of Portugal.
- CELIA. Or rather, bottomless; that as fast as you pour affection
- in, it runs out.
- ROSALIND. No; that same wicked bastard of Venus, that was begot of
- thought, conceiv'd of spleen, and born of madness; that blind
- rascally boy, that abuses every one's eyes, because his own are
- out- let him be judge how deep I am in love. I'll tell thee,
- Aliena, I cannot be out of the sight of Orlando. I'll go find a
- shadow, and sigh till he come.
- CELIA. And I'll sleep. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-The forest
-
- Enter JAQUES and LORDS, in the habit of foresters
-
- JAQUES. Which is he that killed the deer?
- LORD. Sir, it was I.
- JAQUES. Let's present him to the Duke, like a Roman conqueror; and
- it would do well to set the deer's horns upon his head for a
- branch of victory. Have you no song, forester, for this purpose?
- LORD. Yes, sir.
- JAQUES. Sing it; 'tis no matter how it be in tune, so it make noise
- enough.
-
- SONG.
-
- What shall he have that kill'd the deer?
- His leather skin and horns to wear.
- [The rest shall hear this burden:]
- Then sing him home.
-
- Take thou no scorn to wear the horn;
- It was a crest ere thou wast born.
- Thy father's father wore it;
- And thy father bore it.
- The horn, the horn, the lusty horn,
- Is not a thing to laugh to scorn. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-The forest
-
-Enter ROSALIND and CELIA
-
- ROSALIND. How say you now? Is it not past two o'clock?
- And here much Orlando!
- CELIA. I warrant you, with pure love and troubled brain, he hath
- ta'en his bow and arrows, and is gone forth- to sleep. Look, who
- comes here.
-
- Enter SILVIUS
-
- SILVIUS. My errand is to you, fair youth;
- My gentle Phebe did bid me give you this.
- I know not the contents; but, as I guess
- By the stern brow and waspish action
- Which she did use as she was writing of it,
- It bears an angry tenour. Pardon me,
- I am but as a guiltless messenger.
- ROSALIND. Patience herself would startle at this letter,
- And play the swaggerer. Bear this, bear all.
- She says I am not fair, that I lack manners;
- She calls me proud, and that she could not love me,
- Were man as rare as Phoenix. 'Od's my will!
- Her love is not the hare that I do hunt;
- Why writes she so to me? Well, shepherd, well,
- This is a letter of your own device.
- SILVIUS. No, I protest, I know not the contents;
- Phebe did write it.
- ROSALIND. Come, come, you are a fool,
- And turn'd into the extremity of love.
- I saw her hand; she has a leathern hand,
- A freestone-colour'd hand; I verily did think
- That her old gloves were on, but 'twas her hands;
- She has a huswife's hand- but that's no matter.
- I say she never did invent this letter:
- This is a man's invention, and his hand.
- SILVIUS. Sure, it is hers.
- ROSALIND. Why, 'tis a boisterous and a cruel style;
- A style for challengers. Why, she defies me,
- Like Turk to Christian. Women's gentle brain
- Could not drop forth such giant-rude invention,
- Such Ethiope words, blacker in their effect
- Than in their countenance. Will you hear the letter?
- SILVIUS. So please you, for I never heard it yet;
- Yet heard too much of Phebe's cruelty.
- ROSALIND. She Phebes me: mark how the tyrant writes.
- [Reads]
-
- 'Art thou god to shepherd turn'd,
- That a maiden's heart hath burn'd?'
-
- Can a woman rail thus?
- SILVIUS. Call you this railing?
- ROSALIND. 'Why, thy godhead laid apart,
- Warr'st thou with a woman's heart?'
-
- Did you ever hear such railing?
-
- 'Whiles the eye of man did woo me,
- That could do no vengeance to me.'
-
- Meaning me a beast.
-
- 'If the scorn of your bright eyne
- Have power to raise such love in mine,
- Alack, in me what strange effect
- Would they work in mild aspect!
- Whiles you chid me, I did love;
- How then might your prayers move!
- He that brings this love to the
- Little knows this love in me;
- And by him seal up thy mind,
- Whether that thy youth and kind
- Will the faithful offer take
- Of me and all that I can make;
- Or else by him my love deny,
- And then I'll study how to die.'
- SILVIUS. Call you this chiding?
- CELIA. Alas, poor shepherd!
- ROSALIND. Do you pity him? No, he deserves no pity. Wilt thou love
- such a woman? What, to make thee an instrument, and play false
- strains upon thee! Not to be endur'd! Well, go your way to her,
- for I see love hath made thee tame snake, and say this to her-
- that if she love me, I charge her to love thee; if she will not,
- I will never have her unless thou entreat for her. If you be a
- true lover, hence, and not a word; for here comes more company.
- Exit SILVIUS
-
- Enter OLIVER
-
- OLIVER. Good morrow, fair ones; pray you, if you know,
- Where in the purlieus of this forest stands
- A sheep-cote fenc'd about with olive trees?
- CELIA. West of this place, down in the neighbour bottom.
- The rank of osiers by the murmuring stream
- Left on your right hand brings you to the place.
- But at this hour the house doth keep itself;
- There's none within.
- OLIVER. If that an eye may profit by a tongue,
- Then should I know you by description-
- Such garments, and such years: 'The boy is fair,
- Of female favour, and bestows himself
- Like a ripe sister; the woman low,
- And browner than her brother.' Are not you
- The owner of the house I did inquire for?
- CELIA. It is no boast, being ask'd, to say we are.
- OLIVER. Orlando doth commend him to you both;
- And to that youth he calls his Rosalind
- He sends this bloody napkin. Are you he?
- ROSALIND. I am. What must we understand by this?
- OLIVER. Some of my shame; if you will know of me
- What man I am, and how, and why, and where,
- This handkercher was stain'd.
- CELIA. I pray you, tell it.
- OLIVER. When last the young Orlando parted from you,
- He left a promise to return again
- Within an hour; and, pacing through the forest,
- Chewing the food of sweet and bitter fancy,
- Lo, what befell! He threw his eye aside,
- And mark what object did present itself.
- Under an oak, whose boughs were moss'd with age,
- And high top bald with dry antiquity,
- A wretched ragged man, o'ergrown with hair,
- Lay sleeping on his back. About his neck
- A green and gilded snake had wreath'd itself,
- Who with her head nimble in threats approach'd
- The opening of his mouth; but suddenly,
- Seeing Orlando, it unlink'd itself,
- And with indented glides did slip away
- Into a bush; under which bush's shade
- A lioness, with udders all drawn dry,
- Lay couching, head on ground, with catlike watch,
- When that the sleeping man should stir; for 'tis
- The royal disposition of that beast
- To prey on nothing that doth seem as dead.
- This seen, Orlando did approach the man,
- And found it was his brother, his elder brother.
- CELIA. O, I have heard him speak of that same brother;
- And he did render him the most unnatural
- That liv'd amongst men.
- OLIVER. And well he might so do,
- For well I know he was unnatural.
- ROSALIND. But, to Orlando: did he leave him there,
- Food to the suck'd and hungry lioness?
- OLIVER. Twice did he turn his back, and purpos'd so;
- But kindness, nobler ever than revenge,
- And nature, stronger than his just occasion,
- Made him give battle to the lioness,
- Who quickly fell before him; in which hurtling
- From miserable slumber I awak'd.
- CELIA. Are you his brother?
- ROSALIND. Was't you he rescu'd?
- CELIA. Was't you that did so oft contrive to kill him?
- OLIVER. 'Twas I; but 'tis not I. I do not shame
- To tell you what I was, since my conversion
- So sweetly tastes, being the thing I am.
- ROSALIND. But for the bloody napkin?
- OLIVER. By and by.
- When from the first to last, betwixt us two,
- Tears our recountments had most kindly bath'd,
- As how I came into that desert place-
- In brief, he led me to the gentle Duke,
- Who gave me fresh array and entertainment,
- Committing me unto my brother's love;
- Who led me instantly unto his cave,
- There stripp'd himself, and here upon his arm
- The lioness had torn some flesh away,
- Which all this while had bled; and now he fainted,
- And cried, in fainting, upon Rosalind.
- Brief, I recover'd him, bound up his wound,
- And, after some small space, being strong at heart,
- He sent me hither, stranger as I am,
- To tell this story, that you might excuse
- His broken promise, and to give this napkin,
- Dy'd in his blood, unto the shepherd youth
- That he in sport doth call his Rosalind.
- [ROSALIND swoons]
- CELIA. Why, how now, Ganymede! sweet Ganymede!
- OLIVER. Many will swoon when they do look on blood.
- CELIA. There is more in it. Cousin Ganymede!
- OLIVER. Look, he recovers.
- ROSALIND. I would I were at home.
- CELIA. We'll lead you thither.
- I pray you, will you take him by the arm?
- OLIVER. Be of good cheer, youth. You a man!
- You lack a man's heart.
- ROSALIND. I do so, I confess it. Ah, sirrah, a body would think
- this was well counterfeited. I pray you tell your brother how
- well I counterfeited. Heigh-ho!
- OLIVER. This was not counterfeit; there is too great testimony in
- your complexion that it was a passion of earnest.
- ROSALIND. Counterfeit, I assure you.
- OLIVER. Well then, take a good heart and counterfeit to be a man.
- ROSALIND. So I do; but, i' faith, I should have been a woman by
- right.
- CELIA. Come, you look paler and paler; pray you draw homewards.
- Good sir, go with us.
- OLIVER. That will I, for I must bear answer back
- How you excuse my brother, Rosalind.
- ROSALIND. I shall devise something; but, I pray you, commend my
- counterfeiting to him. Will you go? Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-ACT V. SCENE I.
-The forest
-
-Enter TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY
-
- TOUCHSTONE. We shall find a time, Audrey; patience, gentle Audrey.
- AUDREY. Faith, the priest was good enough, for all the old
- gentleman's saying.
- TOUCHSTONE. A most wicked Sir Oliver, Audrey, a most vile Martext.
- But, Audrey, there is a youth here in the forest lays claim to
- you.
- AUDREY. Ay, I know who 'tis; he hath no interest in me in the
- world; here comes the man you mean.
-
- Enter WILLIAM
-
- TOUCHSTONE. It is meat and drink to me to see a clown. By my troth,
- we that have good wits have much to answer for: we shall be
- flouting; we cannot hold.
- WILLIAM. Good ev'n, Audrey.
- AUDREY. God ye good ev'n, William.
- WILLIAM. And good ev'n to you, sir.
- TOUCHSTONE. Good ev'n, gentle friend. Cover thy head, cover thy
- head; nay, prithee be cover'd. How old are you, friend?
- WILLIAM. Five and twenty, sir.
- TOUCHSTONE. A ripe age. Is thy name William?
- WILLIAM. William, sir.
- TOUCHSTONE. A fair name. Wast born i' th' forest here?
- WILLIAM. Ay, sir, I thank God.
- TOUCHSTONE. 'Thank God.' A good answer.
- Art rich?
- WILLIAM. Faith, sir, so so.
- TOUCHSTONE. 'So so' is good, very good, very excellent good; and
- yet it is not; it is but so so. Art thou wise?
- WILLIAM. Ay, sir, I have a pretty wit.
- TOUCHSTONE. Why, thou say'st well. I do now remember a saying: 'The
- fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be
- a fool.' The heathen philosopher, when he had a desire to eat a
- grape, would open his lips when he put it into his mouth; meaning
- thereby that grapes were made to eat and lips to open. You do
- love this maid?
- WILLIAM. I do, sir.
- TOUCHSTONE. Give me your hand. Art thou learned?
- WILLIAM. No, sir.
- TOUCHSTONE. Then learn this of me: to have is to have; for it is a
- figure in rhetoric that drink, being pour'd out of cup into a
- glass, by filling the one doth empty the other; for all your
- writers do consent that ipse is he; now, you are not ipse, for I
- am he.
- WILLIAM. Which he, sir?
- TOUCHSTONE. He, sir, that must marry this woman. Therefore, you
- clown, abandon- which is in the vulgar leave- the society- which
- in the boorish is company- of this female- which in the common is
- woman- which together is: abandon the society of this female; or,
- clown, thou perishest; or, to thy better understanding, diest;
- or, to wit, I kill thee, make thee away, translate thy life into
- death, thy liberty into bondage. I will deal in poison with thee,
- or in bastinado, or in steel; I will bandy with thee in faction;
- will o'er-run thee with policy; I will kill thee a hundred and
- fifty ways; therefore tremble and depart.
- AUDREY. Do, good William.
- WILLIAM. God rest you merry, sir. Exit
-
- Enter CORIN
-
- CORIN. Our master and mistress seeks you; come away, away.
- TOUCHSTONE. Trip, Audrey, trip, Audrey. I attend, I attend.
- Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-The forest
-
-Enter ORLANDO and OLIVER
-
- ORLANDO. Is't possible that on so little acquaintance you should
- like her? that but seeing you should love her? and loving woo?
- and, wooing, she should grant? and will you persever to enjoy
- her?
- OLIVER. Neither call the giddiness of it in question, the poverty
- of her, the small acquaintance, my sudden wooing, nor her sudden
- consenting; but say with me, I love Aliena; say with her that she
- loves me; consent with both that we may enjoy each other. It
- shall be to your good; for my father's house and all the revenue
- that was old Sir Rowland's will I estate upon you, and here live
- and die a shepherd.
- ORLANDO. You have my consent. Let your wedding be to-morrow.
- Thither will I invite the Duke and all's contented followers. Go
- you and prepare Aliena; for, look you, here comes my Rosalind.
-
- Enter ROSALIND
-
- ROSALIND. God save you, brother.
- OLIVER. And you, fair sister. Exit
- ROSALIND. O, my dear Orlando, how it grieves me to see thee wear
- thy heart in a scarf!
- ORLANDO. It is my arm.
- ROSALIND. I thought thy heart had been wounded with the claws of a
- lion.
- ORLANDO. Wounded it is, but with the eyes of a lady.
- ROSALIND. Did your brother tell you how I counterfeited to swoon
- when he show'd me your handkercher?
- ORLANDO. Ay, and greater wonders than that.
- ROSALIND. O, I know where you are. Nay, 'tis true. There was never
- any thing so sudden but the fight of two rams and Caesar's
- thrasonical brag of 'I came, saw, and overcame.' For your brother
- and my sister no sooner met but they look'd; no sooner look'd but
- they lov'd; no sooner lov'd but they sigh'd; no sooner sigh'd but
- they ask'd one another the reason; no sooner knew the reason but
- they sought the remedy- and in these degrees have they made pair
- of stairs to marriage, which they will climb incontinent, or else
- be incontinent before marriage. They are in the very wrath of
- love, and they will together. Clubs cannot part them.
- ORLANDO. They shall be married to-morrow; and I will bid the Duke
- to the nuptial. But, O, how bitter a thing it is to look into
- happiness through another man's eyes! By so much the more shall I
- to-morrow be at the height of heart-heaviness, by how much I
- shall think my brother happy in having what he wishes for.
- ROSALIND. Why, then, to-morrow I cannot serve your turn for
- Rosalind?
- ORLANDO. I can live no longer by thinking.
- ROSALIND. I will weary you, then, no longer with idle talking. Know
- of me then- for now I speak to some purpose- that I know you are
- a gentleman of good conceit. I speak not this that you should
- bear a good opinion of my knowledge, insomuch I say I know you
- are; neither do I labour for a greater esteem than may in some
- little measure draw a belief from you, to do yourself good, and
- not to grace me. Believe then, if you please, that I can do
- strange things. I have, since I was three year old, convers'd
- with a magician, most profound in his art and yet not damnable.
- If you do love Rosalind so near the heart as your gesture cries
- it out, when your brother marries Aliena shall you marry her. I
- know into what straits of fortune she is driven; and it is not
- impossible to me, if it appear not inconvenient to you, to set
- her before your eyes to-morrow, human as she is, and without any
- danger.
- ORLANDO. Speak'st thou in sober meanings?
- ROSALIND. By my life, I do; which I tender dearly, though I say I
- am a magician. Therefore put you in your best array, bid your
- friends; for if you will be married to-morrow, you shall; and to
- Rosalind, if you will.
-
- Enter SILVIUS and PHEBE
-
- Look, here comes a lover of mine, and a lover of hers.
- PHEBE. Youth, you have done me much ungentleness
- To show the letter that I writ to you.
- ROSALIND. I care not if I have. It is my study
- To seem despiteful and ungentle to you.
- You are there follow'd by a faithful shepherd;
- Look upon him, love him; he worships you.
- PHEBE. Good shepherd, tell this youth what 'tis to love.
- SILVIUS. It is to be all made of sighs and tears;
- And so am I for Phebe.
- PHEBE. And I for Ganymede.
- ORLANDO. And I for Rosalind.
- ROSALIND. And I for no woman.
- SILVIUS. It is to be all made of faith and service;
- And so am I for Phebe.
- PHEBE. And I for Ganymede.
- ORLANDO. And I for Rosalind.
- ROSALIND. And I for no woman.
- SILVIUS. It is to be all made of fantasy,
- All made of passion, and all made of wishes;
- All adoration, duty, and observance,
- All humbleness, all patience, and impatience,
- All purity, all trial, all obedience;
- And so am I for Phebe.
- PHEBE. And so am I for Ganymede.
- ORLANDO. And so am I for Rosalind.
- ROSALIND. And so am I for no woman.
- PHEBE. If this be so, why blame you me to love you?
- SILVIUS. If this be so, why blame you me to love you?
- ORLANDO. If this be so, why blame you me to love you?
- ROSALIND. Why do you speak too, 'Why blame you me to love you?'
- ORLANDO. To her that is not here, nor doth not hear.
- ROSALIND. Pray you, no more of this; 'tis like the howling of Irish
- wolves against the moon. [To SILVIUS] I will help you if I can.
- [To PHEBE] I would love you if I could.- To-morrow meet me all
- together. [ To PHEBE ] I will marry you if ever I marry woman,
- and I'll be married to-morrow. [To ORLANDO] I will satisfy you if
- ever I satisfied man, and you shall be married to-morrow. [To
- Silvius] I will content you if what pleases you contents you, and
- you shall be married to-morrow. [To ORLANDO] As you love
- Rosalind, meet. [To SILVIUS] As you love Phebe, meet;- and as I
- love no woman, I'll meet. So, fare you well; I have left you
- commands.
- SILVIUS. I'll not fail, if I live.
- PHEBE. Nor I.
- ORLANDO. Nor I. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-The forest
-
-Enter TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY
-
- TOUCHSTONE. To-morrow is the joyful day, Audre'y; to-morrow will we
- be married.
- AUDREY. I do desire it with all my heart; and I hope it is no
- dishonest desire to desire to be a woman of the world. Here come
- two of the banish'd Duke's pages.
-
- Enter two PAGES
-
- FIRST PAGE. Well met, honest gentleman.
- TOUCHSTONE. By my troth, well met. Come sit, sit, and a song.
- SECOND PAGE. We are for you; sit i' th' middle.
- FIRST PAGE. Shall we clap into't roundly, without hawking, or
- spitting, or saying we are hoarse, which are the only prologues
- to a bad voice?
- SECOND PAGE. I'faith, i'faith; and both in a tune, like two gipsies
- on a horse.
-
- SONG.
- It was a lover and his lass,
- With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino,
- That o'er the green corn-field did pass
- In the spring time, the only pretty ring time,
- When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding.
- Sweet lovers love the spring.
-
- Between the acres of the rye,
- With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino,
- These pretty country folks would lie,
- In the spring time, &c.
-
- This carol they began that hour,
- With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino,
- How that a life was but a flower,
- In the spring time, &c.
-
- And therefore take the present time,
- With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino,
- For love is crowned with the prime,
- In the spring time, &c.
-
- TOUCHSTONE. Truly, young gentlemen, though there was no great
- matter in the ditty, yet the note was very untuneable.
- FIRST PAGE. YOU are deceiv'd, sir; we kept time, we lost not our
- time.
- TOUCHSTONE. By my troth, yes; I count it but time lost to hear such
- a foolish song. God buy you; and God mend your voices. Come,
- Audrey. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE IV.
-The forest
-
-Enter DUKE SENIOR, AMIENS, JAQUES, ORLANDO, OLIVER, and CELIA
-
- DUKE SENIOR. Dost thou believe, Orlando, that the boy
- Can do all this that he hath promised?
- ORLANDO. I sometimes do believe and sometimes do not:
- As those that fear they hope, and know they fear.
-
- Enter ROSALIND, SILVIUS, and PHEBE
-
- ROSALIND. Patience once more, whiles our compact is urg'd:
- You say, if I bring in your Rosalind,
- You will bestow her on Orlando here?
- DUKE SENIOR. That would I, had I kingdoms to give with her.
- ROSALIND. And you say you will have her when I bring her?
- ORLANDO. That would I, were I of all kingdoms king.
- ROSALIND. You say you'll marry me, if I be willing?
- PHEBE. That will I, should I die the hour after.
- ROSALIND. But if you do refuse to marry me,
- You'll give yourself to this most faithful shepherd?
- PHEBE. So is the bargain.
- ROSALIND. You say that you'll have Phebe, if she will?
- SILVIUS. Though to have her and death were both one thing.
- ROSALIND. I have promis'd to make all this matter even.
- Keep you your word, O Duke, to give your daughter;
- You yours, Orlando, to receive his daughter;
- Keep your word, Phebe, that you'll marry me,
- Or else, refusing me, to wed this shepherd;
- Keep your word, Silvius, that you'll marry her
- If she refuse me; and from hence I go,
- To make these doubts all even.
- Exeunt ROSALIND and CELIA
- DUKE SENIOR. I do remember in this shepherd boy
- Some lively touches of my daughter's favour.
- ORLANDO. My lord, the first time that I ever saw him
- Methought he was a brother to your daughter.
- But, my good lord, this boy is forest-born,
- And hath been tutor'd in the rudiments
- Of many desperate studies by his uncle,
- Whom he reports to be a great magician,
- Obscured in the circle of this forest.
-
- Enter TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY
-
- JAQUES. There is, sure, another flood toward, and these couples are
- coming to the ark. Here comes a pair of very strange beasts which
- in all tongues are call'd fools.
- TOUCHSTONE. Salutation and greeting to you all!
- JAQUES. Good my lord, bid him welcome. This is the motley-minded
- gentleman that I have so often met in the forest. He hath been a
- courtier, he swears.
- TOUCHSTONE. If any man doubt that, let him put me to my purgation.
- I have trod a measure; I have flatt'red a lady; I have been
- politic with my friend, smooth with mine enemy; I have undone
- three tailors; I have had four quarrels, and like to have fought
- one.
- JAQUES. And how was that ta'en up?
- TOUCHSTONE. Faith, we met, and found the quarrel was upon the
- seventh cause.
- JAQUES. How seventh cause? Good my lord, like this fellow.
- DUKE SENIOR. I like him very well.
- TOUCHSTONE. God 'ild you, sir; I desire you of the like. I press in
- here, sir, amongst the rest of the country copulatives, to swear
- and to forswear, according as marriage binds and blood breaks. A
- poor virgin, sir, an ill-favour'd thing, sir, but mine own; a
- poor humour of mine, sir, to take that that man else will. Rich
- honesty dwells like a miser, sir, in a poor house; as your pearl
- in your foul oyster.
- DUKE SENIOR. By my faith, he is very swift and sententious.
- TOUCHSTONE. According to the fool's bolt, sir, and such dulcet
- diseases.
- JAQUES. But, for the seventh cause: how did you find the quarrel on
- the seventh cause?
- TOUCHSTONE. Upon a lie seven times removed- bear your body more
- seeming, Audrey- as thus, sir. I did dislike the cut of a certain
- courtier's beard; he sent me word, if I said his beard was not
- cut well, he was in the mind it was. This is call'd the Retort
- Courteous. If I sent him word again it was not well cut, he would
- send me word he cut it to please himself. This is call'd the Quip
- Modest. If again it was not well cut, he disabled my judgment.
- This is call'd the Reply Churlish. If again it was not well cut,
- he would answer I spake not true. This is call'd the Reproof
- Valiant. If again it was not well cut, he would say I lie. This
- is call'd the Countercheck Quarrelsome. And so to the Lie
- Circumstantial and the Lie Direct.
- JAQUES. And how oft did you say his beard was not well cut?
- TOUCHSTONE. I durst go no further than the Lie Circumstantial, nor
- he durst not give me the Lie Direct; and so we measur'd swords
- and parted.
- JAQUES. Can you nominate in order now the degrees of the lie?
- TOUCHSTONE. O, sir, we quarrel in print by the book, as you have
- books for good manners. I will name you the degrees. The first,
- the Retort Courteous; the second, the Quip Modest; the third, the
- Reply Churlish; the fourth, the Reproof Valiant; the fifth, the
- Countercheck Quarrelsome; the sixth, the Lie with Circumstance;
- the seventh, the Lie Direct. All these you may avoid but the Lie
- Direct; and you may avoid that too with an If. I knew when seven
- justices could not take up a quarrel; but when the parties were
- met themselves, one of them thought but of an If, as: 'If you
- said so, then I said so.' And they shook hands, and swore
- brothers. Your If is the only peace-maker; much virtue in If.
- JAQUES. Is not this a rare fellow, my lord?
- He's as good at any thing, and yet a fool.
- DUKE SENIOR. He uses his folly like a stalking-horse, and under the
- presentation of that he shoots his wit:
-
- Enter HYMEN, ROSALIND, and CELIA. Still MUSIC
-
- HYMEN. Then is there mirth in heaven,
- When earthly things made even
- Atone together.
- Good Duke, receive thy daughter;
- Hymen from heaven brought her,
- Yea, brought her hither,
- That thou mightst join her hand with his,
- Whose heart within his bosom is.
- ROSALIND. [To DUKE] To you I give myself, for I am yours.
- [To ORLANDO] To you I give myself, for I am yours.
- DUKE SENIOR. If there be truth in sight, you are my daughter.
- ORLANDO. If there be truth in sight, you are my Rosalind.
- PHEBE. If sight and shape be true,
- Why then, my love adieu!
- ROSALIND. I'll have no father, if you be not he;
- I'll have no husband, if you be not he;
- Nor ne'er wed woman, if you be not she.
- HYMEN. Peace, ho! I bar confusion;
- 'Tis I must make conclusion
- Of these most strange events.
- Here's eight that must take hands
- To join in Hymen's bands,
- If truth holds true contents.
- You and you no cross shall part;
- You and you are heart in heart;
- You to his love must accord,
- Or have a woman to your lord;
- You and you are sure together,
- As the winter to foul weather.
- Whiles a wedlock-hymn we sing,
- Feed yourselves with questioning,
- That reason wonder may diminish,
- How thus we met, and these things finish.
-
- SONG
- Wedding is great Juno's crown;
- O blessed bond of board and bed!
- 'Tis Hymen peoples every town;
- High wedlock then be honoured.
- Honour, high honour, and renown,
- To Hymen, god of every town!
-
- DUKE SENIOR. O my dear niece, welcome thou art to me!
- Even daughter, welcome in no less degree.
- PHEBE. I will not eat my word, now thou art mine;
- Thy faith my fancy to thee doth combine.
-
- Enter JAQUES de BOYS
-
- JAQUES de BOYS. Let me have audience for a word or two.
- I am the second son of old Sir Rowland,
- That bring these tidings to this fair assembly.
- Duke Frederick, hearing how that every day
- Men of great worth resorted to this forest,
- Address'd a mighty power; which were on foot,
- In his own conduct, purposely to take
- His brother here, and put him to the sword;
- And to the skirts of this wild wood he came,
- Where, meeting with an old religious man,
- After some question with him, was converted
- Both from his enterprise and from the world;
- His crown bequeathing to his banish'd brother,
- And all their lands restor'd to them again
- That were with him exil'd. This to be true
- I do engage my life.
- DUKE SENIOR. Welcome, young man.
- Thou offer'st fairly to thy brothers' wedding:
- To one, his lands withheld; and to the other,
- A land itself at large, a potent dukedom.
- First, in this forest let us do those ends
- That here were well begun and well begot;
- And after, every of this happy number,
- That have endur'd shrewd days and nights with us,
- Shall share the good of our returned fortune,
- According to the measure of their states.
- Meantime, forget this new-fall'n dignity,
- And fall into our rustic revelry.
- Play, music; and you brides and bridegrooms all,
- With measure heap'd in joy, to th' measures fall.
- JAQUES. Sir, by your patience. If I heard you rightly,
- The Duke hath put on a religious life,
- And thrown into neglect the pompous court.
- JAQUES DE BOYS. He hath.
- JAQUES. To him will I. Out of these convertites
- There is much matter to be heard and learn'd.
- [To DUKE] You to your former honour I bequeath;
- Your patience and your virtue well deserves it.
- [To ORLANDO] You to a love that your true faith doth merit;
- [To OLIVER] You to your land, and love, and great allies
- [To SILVIUS] You to a long and well-deserved bed;
- [To TOUCHSTONE] And you to wrangling; for thy loving voyage
- Is but for two months victuall'd.- So to your pleasures;
- I am for other than for dancing measures.
- DUKE SENIOR. Stay, Jaques, stay.
- JAQUES. To see no pastime I. What you would have
- I'll stay to know at your abandon'd cave. Exit
- DUKE SENIOR. Proceed, proceed. We will begin these rites,
- As we do trust they'll end, in true delights. [A dance] Exeunt
-
-EPILOGUE
- EPILOGUE.
- ROSALIND. It is not the fashion to see the lady the epilogue; but
- it is no more unhandsome than to see the lord the prologue. If it
- be true that good wine needs no bush, 'tis true that a good play
- needs no epilogue. Yet to good wine they do use good bushes; and
- good plays prove the better by the help of good epilogues. What a
- case am I in then, that am neither a good epilogue, nor cannot
- insinuate with you in the behalf of a good play! I am not
- furnish'd like a beggar; therefore to beg will not become me. My
- way is to conjure you; and I'll begin with the women. I charge
- you, O women, for the love you bear to men, to like as much of
- this play as please you; and I charge you, O men, for the love
- you bear to women- as I perceive by your simp'ring none of you
- hates them- that between you and the women the play may please.
- If I were a woman, I would kiss as many of you as had beards that
- pleas'd me, complexions that lik'd me, and breaths that I defied
- not; and, I am sure, as many as have good beards, or good faces,
- or sweet breaths, will, for my kind offer, when I make curtsy,
- bid me farewell.
-
-THE END
-
-
-
-
-
-1593
-
-THE COMEDY OF ERRORS
-
-by William Shakespeare
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-DRAMATIS PERSONAE
-
-SOLINUS, Duke of Ephesus
-AEGEON, a merchant of Syracuse
-
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS twin brothers and sons to
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE Aegion and Aemelia
-
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS twin brothers, and attendants on
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE the two Antipholuses
-
-BALTHAZAR, a merchant
-ANGELO, a goldsmith
-FIRST MERCHANT, friend to Antipholus of Syracuse
-SECOND MERCHANT, to whom Angelo is a debtor
-PINCH, a schoolmaster
-
-AEMILIA, wife to AEgeon; an abbess at Ephesus
-ADRIANA, wife to Antipholus of Ephesus
-LUCIANA, her sister
-LUCE, servant to Adriana
-
-A COURTEZAN
-
-Gaoler, Officers, Attendants
-
-
-
-
-
-SCENE:
-Ephesus
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-
-THE COMEDY OF ERRORS
-
-ACT I. SCENE 1
-
-A hall in the DUKE'S palace
-
-Enter the DUKE OF EPHESUS, AEGEON, the Merchant
-of Syracuse, GAOLER, OFFICERS, and other ATTENDANTS
-
-AEGEON. Proceed, Solinus, to procure my fall,
- And by the doom of death end woes and all.
-DUKE. Merchant of Syracuse, plead no more;
- I am not partial to infringe our laws.
- The enmity and discord which of late
- Sprung from the rancorous outrage of your duke
- To merchants, our well-dealing countrymen,
- Who, wanting guilders to redeem their lives,
- Have seal'd his rigorous statutes with their bloods,
- Excludes all pity from our threat'ning looks.
- For, since the mortal and intestine jars
- 'Twixt thy seditious countrymen and us,
- It hath in solemn synods been decreed,
- Both by the Syracusians and ourselves,
- To admit no traffic to our adverse towns;
- Nay, more: if any born at Ephesus
- Be seen at any Syracusian marts and fairs;
- Again, if any Syracusian born
- Come to the bay of Ephesus-he dies,
- His goods confiscate to the Duke's dispose,
- Unless a thousand marks be levied,
- To quit the penalty and to ransom him.
- Thy substance, valued at the highest rate,
- Cannot amount unto a hundred marks;
- Therefore by law thou art condemn'd to die.
-AEGEON. Yet this my comfort: when your words are done,
- My woes end likewise with the evening sun.
-DUKE. Well, Syracusian, say in brief the cause
- Why thou departed'st from thy native home,
- And for what cause thou cam'st to Ephesus.
-AEGEON. A heavier task could not have been impos'd
- Than I to speak my griefs unspeakable;
- Yet, that the world may witness that my end
- Was wrought by nature, not by vile offence,
- I'll utter what my sorrow gives me leave.
- In Syracuse was I born, and wed
- Unto a woman, happy but for me,
- And by me, had not our hap been bad.
- With her I liv'd in joy; our wealth increas'd
- By prosperous voyages I often made
- To Epidamnum; till my factor's death,
- And the great care of goods at random left,
- Drew me from kind embracements of my spouse:
- From whom my absence was not six months old,
- Before herself, almost at fainting under
- The pleasing punishment that women bear,
- Had made provision for her following me,
- And soon and safe arrived where I was.
- There had she not been long but she became
- A joyful mother of two goodly sons;
- And, which was strange, the one so like the other
- As could not be disdnguish'd but by names.
- That very hour, and in the self-same inn,
- A mean woman was delivered
- Of such a burden, male twins, both alike.
- Those, for their parents were exceeding poor,
- I bought, and brought up to attend my sons.
- My wife, not meanly proud of two such boys,
- Made daily motions for our home return;
- Unwilling, I agreed. Alas! too soon
- We came aboard.
- A league from Epidamnum had we sail'd
- Before the always-wind-obeying deep
- Gave any tragic instance of our harm:
- But longer did we not retain much hope,
- For what obscured light the heavens did grant
- Did but convey unto our fearful minds
- A doubtful warrant of immediate death;
- Which though myself would gladly have embrac'd,
- Yet the incessant weepings of my wife,
- Weeping before for what she saw must come,
- And piteous plainings of the pretty babes,
- That mourn'd for fashion, ignorant what to fear,
- Forc'd me to seek delays for them and me.
- And this it was, for other means was none:
- The sailors sought for safety by our boat,
- And left the ship, then sinking-ripe, to us;
- My wife, more careful for the latter-born,
- Had fast'ned him unto a small spare mast,
- Such as sea-faring men provide for storms;
- To him one of the other twins was bound,
- Whilst I had been like heedful of the other.
- The children thus dispos'd, my wife and I,
- Fixing our eyes on whom our care was fix'd,
- Fast'ned ourselves at either end the mast,
- And, floating straight, obedient to the stream,
- Was carried towards Corinth, as we thought.
- At length the sun, gazing upon the earth,
- Dispers'd those vapours that offended us;
- And, by the benefit of his wished light,
- The seas wax'd calm, and we discovered
- Two ships from far making amain to us-
- Of Corinth that, of Epidaurus this.
- But ere they came-O, let me say no more!
- Gather the sequel by that went before.
-DUKE. Nay, forward, old man, do not break off so;
- For we may pity, though not pardon thee.
-AEGEON. O, had the gods done so, I had not now
- Worthily term'd them merciless to us!
- For, ere the ships could meet by twice five leagues,
- We were encount'red by a mighty rock,
- Which being violently borne upon,
- Our helpful ship was splitted in the midst;
- So that, in this unjust divorce of us,
- Fortune had left to both of us alike
- What to delight in, what to sorrow for.
- Her part, poor soul, seeming as burdened
- With lesser weight, but not with lesser woe,
- Was carried with more speed before the wind;
- And in our sight they three were taken up
- By fishermen of Corinth, as we thought.
- At length another ship had seiz'd on us;
- And, knowing whom it was their hap to save,
- Gave healthful welcome to their ship-wreck'd guests,
- And would have reft the fishers of their prey,
- Had not their bark been very slow of sail;
- And therefore homeward did they bend their course.
- Thus have you heard me sever'd from my bliss,
- That by misfortunes was my life prolong'd,
- To tell sad stories of my own mishaps.
-DUKE. And, for the sake of them thou sorrowest for,
- Do me the favour to dilate at full
- What have befall'n of them and thee till now.
-AEGEON. My youngest boy, and yet my eldest care,
- At eighteen years became inquisitive
- After his brother, and importun'd me
- That his attendant-so his case was like,
- Reft of his brother, but retain'd his name-
- Might bear him company in the quest of him;
- Whom whilst I laboured of a love to see,
- I hazarded the loss of whom I lov'd.
- Five summers have I spent in farthest Greece,
- Roaming clean through the bounds of Asia,
- And, coasting homeward, came to Ephesus;
- Hopeless to find, yet loath to leave unsought
- Or that or any place that harbours men.
- But here must end the story of my life;
- And happy were I in my timely death,
- Could all my travels warrant me they live.
-DUKE. Hapless, Aegeon, whom the fates have mark'd
- To bear the extremity of dire mishap!
- Now, trust me, were it not against our laws,
- Against my crown, my oath, my dignity,
- Which princes, would they, may not disannul,
- My soul should sue as advocate for thee.
- But though thou art adjudged to the death,
- And passed sentence may not be recall'd
- But to our honour's great disparagement,
- Yet will I favour thee in what I can.
- Therefore, merchant, I'll limit thee this day
- To seek thy help by beneficial hap.
- Try all the friends thou hast in Ephesus;
- Beg thou, or borrow, to make up the sum,
- And live; if no, then thou art doom'd to die.
- Gaoler, take him to thy custody.
-GAOLER. I will, my lord.
-AEGEON. Hopeless and helpless doth Aegeon wend,
- But to procrastinate his lifeless end.
-<Exeunt
-
-
-SCENE 2
-
-The mart
-
-Enter ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE, DROMIO OF SYRACUSE, and FIRST MERCHANT
-
-FIRST MERCHANT. Therefore, give out you are of Epidamnum,
- Lest that your goods too soon be confiscate.
- This very day a Syracusian merchant
- Is apprehended for arrival here;
- And, not being able to buy out his life,
- According to the statute of the town,
- Dies ere the weary sun set in the west.
- There is your money that I had to keep.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Go bear it to the Centaur, where we host.
- And stay there, Dromio, till I come to thee.
- Within this hour it will be dinner-time;
- Till that, I'll view the manners of the town,
- Peruse the traders, gaze upon the buildings,
- And then return and sleep within mine inn;
- For with long travel I am stiff and weary.
- Get thee away.
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. Many a man would take you at your word,
- And go indeed, having so good a mean.
-<Exit
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. A trusty villain, sir, that very oft,
- When I am dull with care and melancholy,
- Lightens my humour with his merry jests.
- What, will you walk with me about the town,
- And then go to my inn and dine with me?
-FIRST MERCHANT. I am invited, sir, to certain merchants,
- Of whom I hope to make much benefit;
- I crave your pardon. Soon at five o'clock,
- Please you, I'll meet with you upon the mart,
- And afterward consort you till bed time.
- My present business calls me from you now.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Farewell till then. I will go lose myself,
- And wander up and down to view the city.
-FIRST MERCHANT. Sir, I commend you to your own content.
-<Exit FIRST MERCHANT
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. He that commends me to mine own content
- Commends me to the thing I cannot get.
- I to the world am like a drop of water
- That in the ocean seeks another drop,
- Who, falling there to find his fellow forth,
- Unseen, inquisitive, confounds himself.
- So I, to find a mother and a brother,
- In quest of them, unhappy, lose myself.
-
-Enter DROMIO OF EPHESUS
-
- Here comes the almanac of my true date.
- What now? How chance thou art return'd so soon?
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. Return'd so soon! rather approach'd too late.
- The capon burns, the pig falls from the spit;
- The clock hath strucken twelve upon the bell-
- My mistress made it one upon my cheek;
- She is so hot because the meat is cold,
- The meat is cold because you come not home,
- You come not home because you have no stomach,
- You have no stomach, having broke your fast;
- But we, that know what 'tis to fast and pray,
- Are penitent for your default to-day.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Stop in your wind, sir; tell me this, I pray:
- Where have you left the money that I gave you?
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. O-Sixpence that I had a Wednesday last
- To pay the saddler for my mistress' crupper?
- The saddler had it, sir; I kept it not.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. I am not in a sportive humour now;
- Tell me, and dally not, where is the money?
- We being strangers here, how dar'st thou trust
- So great a charge from thine own custody?
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. I pray you jest, sir, as you sit at dinner.
- I from my mistress come to you in post;
- If I return, I shall be post indeed,
- For she will score your fault upon my pate.
- Methinks your maw, like mine, should be your clock,
- And strike you home without a messenger.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Come, Dromio, come, these jests are out of season;
- Reserve them till a merrier hour than this.
- Where is the gold I gave in charge to thee?
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. To me, sir? Why, you gave no gold to me.
- ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Come on, sir knave, have done your foolishness,
- And tell me how thou hast dispos'd thy charge.
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. My charge was but to fetch you from the mart
- Home to your house, the Phoenix, sir, to dinner.
- My mistress and her sister stays for you.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Now, as I am a Christian, answer me
- In what safe place you have bestow'd my money,
- Or I shall break that merry sconce of yours,
- That stands on tricks when I am undispos'd.
- Where is the thousand marks thou hadst of me?
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. I have some marks of yours upon my pate,
- Some of my mistress' marks upon my shoulders,
- But not a thousand marks between you both.
- If I should pay your worship those again,
- Perchance you will not bear them patiently.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Thy mistress' marks! What mistress, slave, hast thou?
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. Your worship's wife, my mistress at the Phoenix;
- She that doth fast till you come home to dinner,
- And prays that you will hie you home to dinner.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. What, wilt thou flout me thus unto my face,
- Being forbid? There, take you that, sir knave.
-[Beats him]
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. What mean you, sir? For God's sake hold your hands!
- Nay, an you will not, sir, I'll take my heels.
-<Exit
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Upon my life, by some device or other
- The villain is o'erraught of all my money.
- They say this town is full of cozenage;
- As, nimble jugglers that deceive the eye,
- Dark-working sorcerers that change the mind,
- Soul-killing witches that deform the body,
- Disguised cheaters, prating mountebanks,
- And many such-like liberties of sin;
- If it prove so, I will be gone the sooner.
- I'll to the Centaur to go seek this slave.
- I greatly fear my money is not safe.
-<Exit
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
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-
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-
-
-
-ACT Il. SCENE 1
-
-The house of ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS
-
-Enter ADRIANA, wife to ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS, with LUCIANA, her sister
-
-ADRIANA. Neither my husband nor the slave return'd
- That in such haste I sent to seek his master!
- Sure, Luciana, it is two o'clock.
-LUCIANA. Perhaps some merchant hath invited him,
- And from the mart he's somewhere gone to dinner;
- Good sister, let us dine, and never fret.
- A man is master of his liberty;
- Time is their master, and when they see time,
- They'll go or come. If so, be patient, sister.
-ADRIANA. Why should their liberty than ours be more?
-LUCIANA. Because their business still lies out o' door.
-ADRIANA. Look when I serve him so, he takes it ill.
-LUCIANA. O, know he is the bridle of your will.
-ADRIANA. There's none but asses will be bridled so.
-LUCIANA. Why, headstrong liberty is lash'd with woe.
- There's nothing situate under heaven's eye
- But hath his bound, in earth, in sea, in sky.
- The beasts, the fishes, and the winged fowls,
- Are their males' subjects, and at their controls.
- Man, more divine, the master of all these,
- Lord of the wide world and wild wat'ry seas,
- Indu'd with intellectual sense and souls,
- Of more pre-eminence than fish and fowls,
- Are masters to their females, and their lords;
- Then let your will attend on their accords.
-ADRIANA. This servitude makes you to keep unwed.
-LUCIANA. Not this, but troubles of the marriage-bed.
-ADRIANA. But, were you wedded, you would bear some sway.
-LUCIANA. Ere I learn love, I'll practise to obey.
-ADRIANA. How if your husband start some other where?
-LUCIANA. Till he come home again, I would forbear.
-ADRIANA. Patience unmov'd! no marvel though she pause:
- They can be meek that have no other cause.
- A wretched soul, bruis'd with adversity,
- We bid be quiet when we hear it cry;
- But were we burd'ned with like weight of pain,
- As much, or more, we should ourselves complain.
- So thou, that hast no unkind mate to grieve thee,
- With urging helpless patience would relieve me;
- But if thou live to see like right bereft,
- This fool-begg'd patience in thee will be left.
-LUCIANA. Well, I will marry one day, but to try.
- Here comes your man, now is your husband nigh.
-
-Enter DROMIO OF EPHESUS
-
-ADRIANA. Say, is your tardy master now at hand?
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. Nay, he's at two hands with me, and that my two
- ears can witness.
-ADRIANA. Say, didst thou speak with him? Know'st thou his mind?
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. Ay, ay, he told his mind upon mine ear.
- Beshrew his hand, I scarce could understand it.
-LUCIANA. Spake he so doubtfully thou could'st not feel his meaning?
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. Nay, he struck so plainly I could to
- well feel his blows; and withal so doubtfully that I could
- scarce understand them.
-ADRIANA. But say, I prithee, is he coming home?
- It seems he hath great care to please his wife.
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. Why, mistress, sure my master is horn-mad.
-ADRIANA. Horn-mad, thou villain!
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. I mean not cuckold-mad;
- But, sure, he is stark mad.
- When I desir'd him to come home to dinner,
- He ask'd me for a thousand marks in gold.
- "Tis dinner time' quoth I; 'My gold!' quoth he.
- 'Your meat doth burn' quoth I; 'My gold!' quoth he.
- 'Will you come home?' quoth I; 'My gold!' quoth he.
- 'Where is the thousand marks I gave thee, villain?'
- 'The pig' quoth I 'is burn'd'; 'My gold!' quoth he.
- 'My mistress, sir,' quoth I; 'Hang up thy mistress;
- I know not thy mistress; out on thy mistress.'
-LUCIANA. Quoth who?
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. Quoth my master.
- 'I know' quoth he 'no house, no wife, no mistress.'
- So that my errand, due unto my tongue,
- I thank him, I bare home upon my shoulders;
- For, in conclusion, he did beat me there.
-ADRIANA. Go back again, thou slave, and fetch him home.
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. Go back again, and be new beaten home?
- For God's sake, send some other messenger.
-ADRIANA. Back, slave, or I will break thy pate across.
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. And he will bless that cross with other beating;
- Between you I shall have a holy head.
-ADRIANA. Hence, prating peasant! Fetch thy master home.
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. Am I so round with you, as you with me,
- That like a football you do spurn me thus?
- You spurn me hence, and he will spurn me hither;
- If I last in this service, you must case me in leather.
-<Exit
-LUCIANA. Fie, how impatience loureth in your face!
-ADRIANA. His company must do his minions grace,
- Whilst I at home starve for a merry look.
- Hath homely age th' alluring beauty took
- From my poor cheek? Then he hath wasted it.
- Are my discourses dull? Barren my wit?
- If voluble and sharp discourse be marr'd,
- Unkindness blunts it more than marble hard.
- Do their gay vestments his affections bait?
- That's not my fault; he's master of my state.
- What ruins are in me that can be found
- By him not ruin'd? Then is he the ground
- Of my defeatures. My decayed fair
- A sunny look of his would soon repair.
- But, too unruly deer, he breaks the pale,
- And feeds from home; poor I am but his stale.
-LUCIANA. Self-harming jealousy! fie, beat it hence.
-ADRIANA. Unfeeling fools can with such wrongs dispense.
- I know his eye doth homage otherwhere;
- Or else what lets it but he would be here?
- Sister, you know he promis'd me a chain;
- Would that alone a love he would detain,
- So he would keep fair quarter with his bed!
- I see the jewel best enamelled
- Will lose his beauty; yet the gold bides still
- That others touch and, often touching, will
- Where gold; and no man that hath a name
- By falsehood and corruption doth it shame.
- Since that my beauty cannot please his eye,
- I'll weep what's left away, and weeping die.
-LUCIANA. How many fond fools serve mad jealousy!
-<Exeunt
-
-
-SCENE 2
-
-The mart
-
-Enter ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE
-
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. The gold I gave to Dromio is laid up
- Safe at the Centaur, and the heedful slave
- Is wand'red forth in care to seek me out.
- By computation and mine host's report
- I could not speak with Dromio since at first
- I sent him from the mart. See, here he comes.
-
-Enter DROMIO OF SYRACUSE
-
- How now, sir, is your merry humour alter'd?
- As you love strokes, so jest with me again.
- You know no Centaur! You receiv'd no gold!
- Your mistress sent to have me home to dinner!
- My house was at the Phoenix! Wast thou mad,
- That thus so madly thou didst answer me?
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. What answer, sir? When spake I such a word?
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Even now, even here, not half an hour since.
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. I did not see you since you sent me hence,
- Home to the Centaur, with the gold you gave me.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Villain, thou didst deny the gold's receipt,
- And told'st me of a mistress and a dinner;
- For which, I hope, thou felt'st I was displeas'd.
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. I am glad to see you in this merry vein.
- What means this jest? I pray you, master, tell me.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Yea, dost thou jeer and flout me in the teeth?
- Think'st thou I jest? Hold, take thou that, and that.
-[Beating him]
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. Hold, sir, for God's sake! Now your jest is earnest.
- Upon what bargain do you give it me?
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Because that I familiarly sometimes
- Do use you for my fool and chat with you,
- Your sauciness will jest upon my love,
- And make a common of my serious hours.
- When the sun shines let foolish gnats make sport,
- But creep in crannies when he hides his beams.
- If you will jest with me, know my aspect,
- And fashion your demeanour to my looks,
- Or I will beat this method in your sconce.
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. Sconce, call you it? So you would
- leave battering, I had rather have it a head. An you use
- these blows long, I must get a sconce for my head, and
- insconce it too; or else I shall seek my wit in my shoulders.
- But I pray, sir, why am I beaten?
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Dost thou not know?
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. Nothing, sir, but that I am beaten.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Shall I tell you why?
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. Ay, sir, and wherefore; for they say
- every why hath a wherefore.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Why, first for flouting me; and then wherefore,
- For urging it the second time to me.
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. Was there ever any man thus beaten out of season,
- When in the why and the wherefore is neither rhyme nor reason?
- Well, sir, I thank you.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Thank me, sir! for what?
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. Marry, sir, for this something that you gave
- me for nothing.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. I'll make you amends next, to
- give you nothing for something. But say, sir, is it dinnertime?
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. No, sir; I think the meat wants that I have.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. In good time, sir, what's that?
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. Basting.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Well, sir, then 'twill be dry.
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. If it be, sir, I pray you eat none of it.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Your reason?
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. Lest it make you choleric, and purchase me
- another dry basting.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Well, sir, learn to jest in good time;
- there's a time for all things.
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. I durst have denied that, before you
- were so choleric.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. By what rule, sir?
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. Marry, sir, by a rule as plain as the
- plain bald pate of Father Time himself.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Let's hear it.
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. There's no time for a man to recover
- his hair that grows bald by nature.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. May he not do it by fine and recovery?
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. Yes, to pay a fine for a periwig, and
- recover the lost hair of another man.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Why is Time such a niggard of
- hair, being, as it is, so plentiful an excrement?
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. Because it is a blessing that he bestows
- on beasts, and what he hath scanted men in hair he hath
- given them in wit.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Why, but there's many a man
- hath more hair than wit.
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. Not a man of those but he hath the
- wit to lose his hair.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Why, thou didst conclude hairy
- men plain dealers without wit.
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. The plainer dealer, the sooner lost;
- yet he loseth it in a kind of jollity.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. For what reason?
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. For two; and sound ones too.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Nay, not sound I pray you.
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. Sure ones, then.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Nay, not sure, in a thing falsing.
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. Certain ones, then.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Name them.
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. The one, to save the money that he spends in
- tiring; the other, that at dinner they should not drop in his
- porridge.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. You would all this time have prov'd there
- is no time for all things.
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. Marry, and did, sir; namely, no time to recover
- hair lost by nature.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. But your reason was not substantial, why
- there is no time to recover.
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. Thus I mend it: Time himself is bald,
- and therefore to the world's end will have bald followers.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. I knew 't'would be a bald conclusion. But,
- soft, who wafts us yonder?
-
-Enter ADRIANA and LUCIANA
-
-ADRIANA. Ay, ay, Antipholus, look strange and frown.
- Some other mistress hath thy sweet aspects;
- I am not Adriana, nor thy wife.
- The time was once when thou unurg'd wouldst vow
- That never words were music to thine ear,
- That never object pleasing in thine eye,
- That never touch well welcome to thy hand,
- That never meat sweet-savour'd in thy taste,
- Unless I spake, or look'd, or touch'd, or carv'd to thee.
- How comes it now, my husband, O, how comes it,
- That thou art then estranged from thyself?
- Thyself I call it, being strange to me,
- That, undividable, incorporate,
- Am better than thy dear self's better part.
- Ah, do not tear away thyself from me;
- For know, my love, as easy mayst thou fall
- A drop of water in the breaking gulf,
- And take unmingled thence that drop again
- Without addition or diminishing,
- As take from me thyself, and not me too.
- How dearly would it touch thee to the quick,
- Should'st thou but hear I were licentious,
- And that this body, consecrate to thee,
- By ruffian lust should be contaminate!
- Wouldst thou not spit at me and spurn at me,
- And hurl the name of husband in my face,
- And tear the stain'd skin off my harlot-brow,
- And from my false hand cut the wedding-ring,
- And break it with a deep-divorcing vow?
- I know thou canst, and therefore see thou do it.
- I am possess'd with an adulterate blot;
- My blood is mingled with the crime of lust;
- For if we two be one, and thou play false,
- I do digest the poison of thy flesh,
- Being strumpeted by thy contagion.
- Keep then fair league and truce with thy true bed;
- I live dis-stain'd, thou undishonoured.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Plead you to me, fair dame? I know you not:
- In Ephesus I am but two hours old,
- As strange unto your town as to your talk,
- Who, every word by all my wit being scann'd,
- Wants wit in all one word to understand.
-LUCIANA. Fie, brother, how the world is chang'd with you!
- When were you wont to use my sister thus?
- She sent for you by Dromio home to dinner.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. By Dromio?
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. By me?
-ADRIANA. By thee; and this thou didst return from him-
- That he did buffet thee, and in his blows
- Denied my house for his, me for his wife.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Did you converse, sir, with this gentlewoman?
- What is the course and drift of your compact?
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. I, Sir? I never saw her till this time.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Villain, thou liest; for even her very words
- Didst thou deliver to me on the mart.
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. I never spake with her in all my life.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. How can she thus, then, call us by our names,
- Unless it be by inspiration?
-ADRIANA. How ill agrees it with your gravity
- To counterfeit thus grossly with your slave,
- Abetting him to thwart me in my mood!
- Be it my wrong you are from me exempt,
- But wrong not that wrong with a more contempt.
- Come, I will fasten on this sleeve of thine;
- Thou art an elm, my husband, I a vine,
- Whose weakness, married to thy stronger state,
- Makes me with thy strength to communicate.
- If aught possess thee from me, it is dross,
- Usurping ivy, brier, or idle moss;
- Who all, for want of pruning, with intrusion
- Infect thy sap, and live on thy confusion.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. To me she speaks; she moves me for her theme.
- What, was I married to her in my dream?
- Or sleep I now, and think I hear all this?
- What error drives our eyes and ears amiss?
- Until I know this sure uncertainty,
- I'll entertain the offer'd fallacy.
-LUCIANA. Dromio, go bid the servants spread for dinner.
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. O, for my beads! I cross me for sinner.
- This is the fairy land. O spite of spites!
- We talk with goblins, owls, and sprites.
- If we obey them not, this will ensue:
- They'll suck our breath, or pinch us black and blue.
-LUCIANA. Why prat'st thou to thyself, and answer'st not?
- Dromio, thou drone, thou snail, thou slug, thou sot!
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. I am transformed, master, am not I?
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. I think thou art in mind, and so am I.
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. Nay, master, both in mind and in my shape.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Thou hast thine own form.
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. No, I am an ape.
-LUCIANA. If thou art chang'd to aught, 'tis to an ass.
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. 'Tis true; she rides me, and I long for grass.
- 'Tis so, I am an ass; else it could never be
- But I should know her as well as she knows me.
-ADRIANA. Come, come, no longer will I be a fool,
- To put the finger in the eye and weep,
- Whilst man and master laughs my woes to scorn.
- Come, sir, to dinner. Dromio, keep the gate.
- Husband, I'll dine above with you to-day,
- And shrive you of a thousand idle pranks.
- Sirrah, if any ask you for your master,
- Say he dines forth, and let no creature enter.
- Come, sister. Dromio, play the porter well.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Am I in earth, in heaven, or in hell?
- Sleeping or waking, mad or well-advis'd?
- Known unto these, and to myself disguis'd!
- I'll say as they say, and persever so,
- And in this mist at all adventures go.
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. Master, shall I be porter at the gate?
-ADRIANA. Ay; and let none enter, lest I break your pate.
-LUCIANA. Come, come, Antipholus, we dine too late.
-<Exeunt
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-
-
-ACT III. SCENE 1
-
-Before the house of ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS
-
-Enter ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS, DROMIO OF EPHESUS, ANGELO, and BALTHAZAR
-
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. Good Signior Angelo, you must excuse us all;
- My wife is shrewish when I keep not hours.
- Say that I linger'd with you at your shop
- To see the making of her carcanet,
- And that to-morrow you will bring it home.
- But here's a villain that would face me down
- He met me on the mart, and that I beat him,
- And charg'd him with a thousand marks in gold,
- And that I did deny my wife and house.
- Thou drunkard, thou, what didst thou mean by this?
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. Say what you will, sir, but I know what I know.
- That you beat me at the mart I have your hand to show;
- If the skin were parchment, and the blows you gave were ink,
- Your own handwriting would tell you what I think.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. I think thou art an ass.
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. Marry, so it doth appear
- By the wrongs I suffer and the blows I bear.
- I should kick, being kick'd; and being at that pass,
- You would keep from my heels, and beware of an ass.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. Y'are sad, Signior Balthazar; pray God our cheer
- May answer my good will and your good welcome here.
-BALTHAZAR. I hold your dainties cheap, sir, and your welcome dear.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. O, Signior Balthazar, either at flesh or fish,
- A table full of welcome makes scarce one dainty dish.
-BALTHAZAR. Good meat, sir, is common; that every churl affords.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. And welcome more common; for that's nothing
- but words.
-BALTHAZAR. Small cheer and great welcome makes a merry feast.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. Ay, to a niggardly host and more sparing guest.
- But though my cates be mean, take them in good part;
- Better cheer may you have, but not with better heart.
- But, soft, my door is lock'd; go bid them let us in.
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. Maud, Bridget, Marian, Cicely, Gillian, Ginn!
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. [Within] Mome, malt-horse, capon, coxcomb, idiot, patch!
- Either get thee from the door, or sit down at the hatch.
- Dost thou conjure for wenches, that thou call'st for such store,
- When one is one too many? Go get thee from the door.
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. What patch is made our porter?
- My master stays in the street.
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. [Within] Let him walk from whence he came,
- lest he catch cold on's feet.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. Who talks within there? Ho, open the door!
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. [Within] Right, sir; I'll tell you when,
- an you'll tell me wherefore.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. Wherefore? For my dinner;
- I have not din'd to-day.
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. [Within] Nor to-day here you must not;
- come again when you may.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. What art thou that keep'st me out
- from the house I owe?
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. [Within] The porter for this time,
- sir, and my name is Dromio.
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. O Villain, thou hast stol'n both mine
- office and my name!
- The one ne'er got me credit, the other mickle blame.
- If thou hadst been Dromio to-day in my place,
- Thou wouldst have chang'd thy face for a name, or thy name for an ass.
-
-Enter LUCE, within
-
-LUCE. [Within] What a coil is there, Dromio? Who are those at the gate?
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. Let my master in, Luce.
-LUCE. [Within] Faith, no, he comes too late;
- And so tell your master.
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. O Lord, I must laugh!
- Have at you with a proverb: Shall I set in my staff?
-LUCE. [Within] Have at you with another: that's-when? can you tell?
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. [Within] If thy name be called Luce
- -Luce, thou hast answer'd him well.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. Do you hear, you minion? You'll let us in, I hope?
-LUCE. [Within] I thought to have ask'd you.
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. [Within] And you said no.
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. SO, Come, help: well struck! there was blow for blow.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. Thou baggage, let me in.
-LUCE. [Within] Can you tell for whose sake?
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. Master, knock the door hard.
-LUCE. [Within] Let him knock till it ache.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. You'll cry for this, minion, if beat the door down.
-LUCE. [Within] What needs all that, and a pair of stocks in the town?
-
-Enter ADRIANA, within
-
-ADRIANA. [Within] Who is that at the door, that keeps all this noise?
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. [Within] By my troth, your town is
- troubled with unruly boys.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. Are you there, wife? You might
- have come before.
-ADRIANA. [Within] Your wife, sir knave! Go get you from the door.
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. If YOU went in pain, master, this 'knave' would go sore.
-ANGELO. Here is neither cheer, sir, nor welcome; we would fain have either.
-BALTHAZAR. In debating which was best, we shall part with neither.
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. They stand at the door, master; bid them welcome hither.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. There is something in the wind, that we cannot get in.
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. You would say so, master, if your garments were thin.
- Your cake here is warm within; you stand here in the cold;
- It would make a man mad as a buck to be so bought and sold.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. Go fetch me something; I'll break ope the gate.
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. [Within] Break any breaking here,
- and I'll break your knave's pate.
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. A man may break a word with you,
- sir; and words are but wind;
- Ay, and break it in your face, so he break it not behind.
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. [Within] It seems thou want'st breaking;
- out upon thee, hind!
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. Here's too much 'out upon thee!' pray thee let me in.
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. [Within] Ay, when fowls have no
- feathers and fish have no fin.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. Well, I'll break in; go borrow me a crow.
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. A crow without feather? Master, mean you so?
- For a fish without a fin, there's a fowl without a feather;
- If a crow help us in, sirrah, we'll pluck a crow together.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. Go get thee gone; fetch me an iron crow.
-BALTHAZAR. Have patience, sir; O, let it not be so!
- Herein you war against your reputation,
- And draw within the compass of suspect
- Th' unviolated honour of your wife.
- Once this-your long experience of her wisdom,
- Her sober virtue, years, and modesty,
- Plead on her part some cause to you unknown;
- And doubt not, sir, but she will well excuse
- Why at this time the doors are made against you.
- Be rul'd by me: depart in patience,
- And let us to the Tiger all to dinner;
- And, about evening, come yourself alone
- To know the reason of this strange restraint.
- If by strong hand you offer to break in
- Now in the stirring passage of the day,
- A vulgar comment will be made of it,
- And that supposed by the common rout
- Against your yet ungalled estimation
- That may with foul intrusion enter in
- And dwell upon your grave when you are dead;
- For slander lives upon succession,
- For ever hous'd where it gets possession.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. You have prevail'd. I will depart in quiet,
- And in despite of mirth mean to be merry.
- I know a wench of excellent discourse,
- Pretty and witty; wild, and yet, too, gentle;
- There will we dine. This woman that I mean,
- My wife-but, I protest, without desert-
- Hath oftentimes upbraided me withal;
- To her will we to dinner. [To ANGELO] Get you home
- And fetch the chain; by this I know 'tis made.
- Bring it, I pray you, to the Porpentine;
- For there's the house. That chain will I bestow-
- Be it for nothing but to spite my wife-
- Upon mine hostess there; good sir, make haste.
- Since mine own doors refuse to entertain me,
- I'll knock elsewhere, to see if they'll disdain me.
-ANGELO. I'll meet you at that place some hour hence.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. Do so; this jest shall cost me some expense.
-<Exeunt
-
-
-SCENE 2
-
-Before the house of ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS
-
-Enter LUCIANA with ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE
-
-LUCIANA. And may it be that you have quite forgot
- A husband's office? Shall, Antipholus,
- Even in the spring of love, thy love-springs rot?
- Shall love, in building, grow so ruinous?
- If you did wed my sister for her wealth,
- Then for her wealth's sake use her with more kindness;
- Or, if you like elsewhere, do it by stealth;
- Muffle your false love with some show of blindness;
- Let not my sister read it in your eye;
- Be not thy tongue thy own shame's orator;
- Look sweet, speak fair, become disloyalty;
- Apparel vice like virtue's harbinger;
- Bear a fair presence, though your heart be tainted;
- Teach sin the carriage of a holy saint;
- Be secret-false. What need she be acquainted?
- What simple thief brags of his own attaint?
- 'Tis double wrong to truant with your bed
- And let her read it in thy looks at board;
- Shame hath a bastard fame, well managed;
- Ill deeds is doubled with an evil word.
- Alas, poor women! make us but believe,
- Being compact of credit, that you love us;
- Though others have the arm, show us the sleeve;
- We in your motion turn, and you may move us.
- Then, gentle brother, get you in again;
- Comfort my sister, cheer her, call her wife.
- 'Tis holy sport to be a little vain
- When the sweet breath of flattery conquers strife.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Sweet mistress-what your name is else, I know not,
- Nor by what wonder you do hit of mine-
- Less in your knowledge and your grace you show not
- Than our earth's wonder-more than earth, divine.
- Teach me, dear creature, how to think and speak;
- Lay open to my earthy-gross conceit,
- Smoth'red in errors, feeble, shallow, weak,
- The folded meaning of your words' deceit.
- Against my soul's pure truth why labour you
- To make it wander in an unknown field?
- Are you a god? Would you create me new?
- Transform me, then, and to your pow'r I'll yield.
- But if that I am I, then well I know
- Your weeping sister is no wife of mine,
- Nor to her bed no homage do I owe;
- Far more, far more, to you do I decline.
- O, train me not, sweet mermaid, with thy note,
- To drown me in thy sister's flood of tears.
- Sing, siren, for thyself, and I will dote;
- Spread o'er the silver waves thy golden hairs,
- And as a bed I'll take them, and there he;
- And in that glorious supposition think
- He gains by death that hath such means to die.
- Let Love, being light, be drowned if she sink.
-LUCIANA. What, are you mad, that you do reason so?
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Not mad, but mated; how, I do not know.
-LUCIANA. It is a fault that springeth from your eye.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. For gazing on your beams, fair sun, being by.
-LUCIANA. Gaze where you should, and that will clear your sight.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. As good to wink, sweet love, as look on night.
-LUCIANA. Why call you me love? Call my sister so.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Thy sister's sister.
-LUCIANA. That's my sister.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. No;
- It is thyself, mine own self's better part;
- Mine eye's clear eye, my dear heart's dearer heart,
- My food, my fortune, and my sweet hope's aim,
- My sole earth's heaven, and my heaven's claim.
-LUCIANA. All this my sister is, or else should be.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Call thyself sister, sweet, for I am thee;
- Thee will I love, and with thee lead my life;
- Thou hast no husband yet, nor I no wife.
- Give me thy hand.
-LUCIANA. O, soft, sir, hold you still;
- I'll fetch my sister to get her good will.
-<Exit LUCIANA
-
-Enter DROMIO OF SYRACUSE.
-
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Why, how now, Dromio! Where run'st thou
- so fast?
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. Do you know me, sir? Am I Dromio?
- Am I your man? Am I myself?
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Thou art Dromio, thou art my
- man, thou art thyself.
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. I am an ass, I am a woman's man, and besides
- myself.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. What woman's man, and how besides thyself?
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. Marry, sir, besides myself, I am due
- to a woman-one that claims me, one that haunts me, one
- that will have me.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. What claim lays she to thee?
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. Marry, sir, such claim as you would
- lay to your horse; and she would have me as a beast: not
- that, I being a beast, she would have me; but that she,
- being a very beastly creature, lays claim to me.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. What is she?
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. A very reverent body; ay, such a one
- as a man may not speak of without he say 'Sir-reverence.'
- I have but lean luck in the match, and yet is she a
- wondrous fat marriage.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. How dost thou mean a fat marriage?
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. Marry, sir, she's the kitchen-wench,
- and all grease; and I know not what use to put her to but
- to make a lamp of her and run from her by her own light.
- I warrant, her rags and the tallow in them will burn
- Poland winter. If she lives till doomsday, she'll burn
- week longer than the whole world.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. What complexion is she of?
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. Swart, like my shoe; but her face
- nothing like so clean kept; for why, she sweats, a man may
- go over shoes in the grime of it.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. That's a fault that water will mend.
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. No, sir, 'tis in grain; Noah's flood
- could not do it.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. What's her name?
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. Nell, sir; but her name and three
- quarters, that's an ell and three quarters, will not measure
- her from hip to hip.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Then she bears some breadth?
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. No longer from head to foot than
- from hip to hip: she is spherical, like a globe; I could find
- out countries in her.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. In what part of her body stands Ireland?
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. Marry, sir, in her buttocks; I found it out by
- the bogs.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Where Scotland?
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. I found it by the barrenness, hard in
- the palm of the hand.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Where France?
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. In her forehead, arm'd and reverted,
- making war against her heir.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Where England?
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. I look'd for the chalky cliffs, but I
- could find no whiteness in them; but I guess it stood in her
- chin, by the salt rheum that ran between France and it.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Where Spain?
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. Faith, I saw it not, but I felt it hot in
- her breath.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Where America, the Indies?
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. O, sir, upon her nose, an o'er embellished with
- rubies, carbuncles, sapphires, declining their rich aspect to the
- hot breath of Spain; who sent whole armadoes of caracks to be
- ballast at her nose.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Where stood Belgia, the Netherlands?
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. O, Sir, I did not look so low. To
- conclude: this drudge or diviner laid claim to me; call'd me
- Dromio; swore I was assur'd to her; told me what privy
- marks I had about me, as, the mark of my shoulder, the
- mole in my neck, the great wart on my left arm, that I,
- amaz'd, ran from her as a witch.
- And, I think, if my breast had not been made of faith,
- and my heart of steel,
- She had transform'd me to a curtal dog, and made me turn i' th' wheel.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Go hie thee presently post to the road;
- An if the wind blow any way from shore,
- I will not harbour in this town to-night.
- If any bark put forth, come to the mart,
- Where I will walk till thou return to me.
- If every one knows us, and we know none,
- 'Tis time, I think, to trudge, pack and be gone.
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. As from a bear a man would run for life,
- So fly I from her that would be my wife.
-<Exit
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. There's none but witches do inhabit here,
- And therefore 'tis high time that I were hence.
- She that doth call me husband, even my soul
- Doth for a wife abhor. But her fair sister,
- Possess'd with such a gentle sovereign grace,
- Of such enchanting presence and discourse,
- Hath almost made me traitor to myself;
- But, lest myself be guilty to self-wrong,
- I'll stop mine ears against the mermaid's song.
-
-Enter ANGELO with the chain
-
-ANGELO. Master Antipholus!
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Ay, that's my name.
-ANGELO. I know it well, sir. Lo, here is the chain.
- I thought to have ta'en you at the Porpentine;
- The chain unfinish'd made me stay thus long.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. What is your will that I shall do with this?
-ANGELO. What please yourself, sir; I have made it for you.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Made it for me, sir! I bespoke it not.
-ANGELO. Not once nor twice, but twenty times you have.
- Go home with it, and please your wife withal;
- And soon at supper-time I'll visit you,
- And then receive my money for the chain.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. I pray you, sir, receive the money now,
- For fear you ne'er see chain nor money more.
-ANGELO. You are a merry man, sir; fare you well.
-<Exit
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. What I should think of this cannot tell:
- But this I think, there's no man is so vain
- That would refuse so fair an offer'd chain.
- I see a man here needs not live by shifts,
- When in the streets he meets such golden gifts.
- I'll to the mart, and there for Dromio stay;
- If any ship put out, then straight away.
-<Exit
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-
-
-ACT IV. SCENE 1
-
-A public place
-
-Enter SECOND MERCHANT, ANGELO, and an OFFICER
-
-SECOND MERCHANT. You know since Pentecost the sum is due,
- And since I have not much importun'd you;
- Nor now I had not, but that I am bound
- To Persia, and want guilders for my voyage.
- Therefore make present satisfaction,
- Or I'll attach you by this officer.
-ANGELO. Even just the sum that I do owe to you
- Is growing to me by Antipholus;
- And in the instant that I met with you
- He had of me a chain; at five o'clock
- I shall receive the money for the same.
- Pleaseth you walk with me down to his house,
- I will discharge my bond, and thank you too.
-
-Enter ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS, and DROMIO OF EPHESUS, from the COURTEZAN'S
-
-OFFICER. That labour may you save; see where he comes.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. While I go to the goldsmith's house, go thou
- And buy a rope's end; that will I bestow
- Among my wife and her confederates,
- For locking me out of my doors by day.
- But, soft, I see the goldsmith. Get thee gone;
- Buy thou a rope, and bring it home to me.
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. I buy a thousand pound a year; I buy a rope.
-<Exit DROMIO
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. A man is well holp up that trusts to you!
- I promised your presence and the chain;
- But neither chain nor goldsmith came to me.
- Belike you thought our love would last too long,
- If it were chain'd together, and therefore came not.
-ANGELO. Saving your merry humour, here's the note
- How much your chain weighs to the utmost carat,
- The fineness of the gold, and chargeful fashion,
- Which doth amount to three odd ducats more
- Than I stand debted to this gentleman.
- I pray you see him presently discharg'd,
- For he is bound to sea, and stays but for it.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. I am not furnish'd with the present money;
- Besides, I have some business in the town.
- Good signior, take the stranger to my house,
- And with you take the chain, and bid my wife
- Disburse the sum on the receipt thereof.
- Perchance I will be there as soon as you.
-ANGELO. Then you will bring the chain to her yourself?
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. No; bear it with you, lest I come not time enough.
-ANGELO. Well, sir, I will. Have you the chain about you?
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. An if I have not, sir, I hope you have;
- Or else you may return without your money.
-ANGELO. Nay, come, I pray you, sir, give me the chain;
- Both wind and tide stays for this gentleman,
- And I, to blame, have held him here too long.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. Good Lord! you use this dalliance to excuse
- Your breach of promise to the Porpentine;
- I should have chid you for not bringing it,
- But, like a shrew, you first begin to brawl.
-SECOND MERCHANT. The hour steals on; I pray you, sir, dispatch.
-ANGELO. You hear how he importunes me-the chain!
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. Why, give it to my wife, and fetch your money.
-ANGELO. Come, come, you know I gave it you even now.
- Either send the chain or send by me some token.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. Fie, now you run this humour out of breath!
- Come, where's the chain? I pray you let me see it.
-SECOND MERCHANT. My business cannot brook this dalliance.
- Good sir, say whe'r you'll answer me or no;
- If not, I'll leave him to the officer.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. I answer you! What should I answer you?
-ANGELO. The money that you owe me for the chain.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. I owe you none till I receive the chain.
-ANGELO. You know I gave it you half an hour since.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. You gave me none; you wrong me much to say so.
-ANGELO. You wrong me more, sir, in denying it.
- Consider how it stands upon my credit.
-SECOND MERCHANT. Well, officer, arrest him at my suit.
-OFFICER. I do; and charge you in the Duke's name to obey me.
-ANGELO. This touches me in reputation.
- Either consent to pay this sum for me,
- Or I attach you by this officer.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. Consent to pay thee that I never had!
- Arrest me, foolish fellow, if thou dar'st.
-ANGELO. Here is thy fee; arrest him, officer.
- I would not spare my brother in this case,
- If he should scorn me so apparently.
-OFFICER. I do arrest you, sir; you hear the suit.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. I do obey thee till I give thee bail.
- But, sirrah, you shall buy this sport as dear
- As all the metal in your shop will answer.
-ANGELO. Sir, sir, I shall have law in Ephesus,
- To your notorious shame, I doubt it not.
-
-Enter DROMIO OF SYRACUSE, from the bay
-
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. Master, there's a bark of Epidamnum
- That stays but till her owner comes aboard,
- And then, sir, she bears away. Our fraughtage, sir,
- I have convey'd aboard; and I have bought
- The oil, the balsamum, and aqua-vitx.
- The ship is in her trim; the merry wind
- Blows fair from land; they stay for nought at an
- But for their owner, master, and yourself.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. How now! a madman? Why, thou peevish sheep,
- What ship of Epidamnum stays for me?
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. A ship you sent me to, to hire waftage.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. THOU drunken slave! I sent the for a rope;
- And told thee to what purpose and what end.
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. YOU sent me for a rope's end as soon-
- You sent me to the bay, sir, for a bark.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. I Will debate this matter at more leisure,
- And teach your ears to list me with more heed.
- To Adriana, villain, hie thee straight;
- Give her this key, and tell her in the desk
- That's cover'd o'er with Turkish tapestry
- There is a purse of ducats; let her send it.
- Tell her I am arrested in the street,
- And that shall bail me; hie thee, slave, be gone.
- On, officer, to prison till it come.
-<Exeunt all but DROMIO
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. To Adriana! that is where we din'd,
- Where Dowsabel did claim me for her husband.
- She is too big, I hope, for me to compass.
- Thither I must, although against my will,
- For servants must their masters' minds fulfil.
-<Exit
-
-
-SCENE 2
-
-The house of ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS
-
-Enter ADRIANA and LUCIANA
-
-ADRIANA. Ah, Luciana, did he tempt thee so?
- Might'st thou perceive austerely in his eye
- That he did plead in earnest? Yea or no?
- Look'd he or red or pale, or sad or merrily?
- What observation mad'st thou in this case
- Of his heart's meteors tilting in his face?
-LUCIANA. First he denied you had in him no right.
-ADRIANA. He meant he did me none-the more my spite.
-LUCIANA. Then swore he that he was a stranger here.
-ADRIANA. And true he swore, though yet forsworn he were.
-LUCIANA. Then pleaded I for you.
-ADRIANA. And what said he?
-LUCIANA. That love I begg'd for you he begg'd of me.
-ADRIANA. With what persuasion did he tempt thy love?
-LUCIANA. With words that in an honest suit might move.
- First he did praise my beauty, then my speech.
-ADRIANA. Didst speak him fair?
-LUCIANA. Have patience, I beseech.
-ADRIANA. I cannot, nor I will not hold me still;
- My tongue, though not my heart, shall have his will.
- He is deformed, crooked, old, and sere,
- Ill-fac'd, worse bodied, shapeless everywhere;
- Vicious, ungentle, foolish, blunt, unkind;
- Stigmatical in making, worse in mind.
-LUCIANA. Who would be jealous then of such a one?
- No evil lost is wail'd when it is gone.
-ADRIANA. Ah, but I think him better than I say,
- And yet would herein others' eyes were worse.
- Far from her nest the lapwing cries away;
- My heart prays for him, though my tongue do curse.
-
-Enter DROMIO OF SYRACUSE.
-
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. Here go-the desk, the purse. Sweet
- now, make haste.
-LUCIANA. How hast thou lost thy breath?
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. By running fast.
-ADRIANA. Where is thy master, Dromio? Is he well?
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. No, he's in Tartar limbo, worse than hell.
- A devil in an everlasting garment hath him;
- One whose hard heart is button'd up with steel;
- A fiend, a fairy, pitiless and rough;
- A wolf, nay worse, a fellow all in buff;
- A back-friend, a shoulder-clapper, one that countermands
- The passages of alleys, creeks, and narrow lands;
- A hound that runs counter, and yet draws dry-foot well;
- One that, before the Judgment, carries poor souls to hell.
-ADRIANA. Why, man, what is the matter?
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. I do not know the matter; he is rested on the case.
-ADRIANA. What, is he arrested? Tell me, at whose suit?
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. I know not at whose suit he is arrested well;
- But he's in a suit of buff which 'rested him, that can I tell.
- Will you send him, mistress, redemption, the money in his desk?
-ADRIANA. Go fetch it, sister. [Exit LUCIANA] This I wonder at:
- Thus he unknown to me should be in debt.
- Tell me, was he arrested on a band?
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. on a band, but on a stronger thing,
- A chain, a chain. Do you not hear it ring?
-ADRIANA. What, the chain?
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. No, no, the bell; 'tis time that I were gone.
- It was two ere I left him, and now the clock strikes one.
-ADRIANA. The hours come back! That did I never hear.
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. O yes. If any hour meet a sergeant,
- 'a turns back for very fear.
-ADRIANA. As if Time were in debt! How fondly dost thou reason!
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. Time is a very bankrupt, and owes
- more than he's worth to season.
- Nay, he's a thief too: have you not heard men say
- That Time comes stealing on by night and day?
- If 'a be in debt and theft, and a sergeant in the way,
- Hath he not reason to turn back an hour in a day?
-
-Re-enter LUCIANA with a purse
-
-ADRIANA. Go, Dromio, there's the money; bear it straight,
- And bring thy master home immediately.
- Come, sister; I am press'd down with conceit-
- Conceit, my comfort and my injury.
-<Exeunt
-
-
-SCENE 3
-
-The mart
-
-Enter ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE
-
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. There's not a man I meet but doth salute me
- As if I were their well-acquainted friend;
- And every one doth call me by my name.
- Some tender money to me, some invite me,
- Some other give me thanks for kindnesses,
- Some offer me commodities to buy;
- Even now a tailor call'd me in his shop,
- And show'd me silks that he had bought for me,
- And therewithal took measure of my body.
- Sure, these are but imaginary wiles,
- And Lapland sorcerers inhabit here.
-
-Enter DROMIO OF SYRACUSE
-
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. Master, here's the gold you sent me
- for. What, have you got the picture of old Adam new-apparell'd?
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. What gold is this? What Adam dost thou mean?
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. Not that Adam that kept the Paradise,
- but that Adam that keeps the prison; he that goes in the
- calf's skin that was kill'd for the Prodigal; he that came behind
- you, sir, like an evil angel, and bid you forsake your liberty.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. I understand thee not.
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. No? Why, 'tis a plain case: he that
- went, like a bass-viol, in a case of leather; the man, sir,
- that, when gentlemen are tired, gives them a sob, and rest
- them; he, sir, that takes pity on decayed men, and give
- them suits of durance; he that sets up his rest to do more
- exploits with his mace than a morris-pike.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. What, thou mean'st an officer?
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. Ay, sir, the sergeant of the band;
- that brings any man to answer it that breaks his band; on
- that thinks a man always going to bed, and says 'God give
- you good rest!'
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Well, sir, there rest in your foolery. Is
- there any ship puts forth to-night? May we be gone?
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. Why, sir, I brought you word an
- hour since that the bark Expedition put forth to-night; and
- then were you hind'red by the sergeant, to tarry for the
- boy Delay. Here are the angels that you sent for to deliver you.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. The fellow is distract, and so am I;
- And here we wander in illusions.
- Some blessed power deliver us from hence!
-
-Enter a COURTEZAN
-
-COURTEZAN. Well met, well met, Master Antipholus.
- I see, sir, you have found the goldsmith now.
- Is that the chain you promis'd me to-day?
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Satan, avoid! I charge thee, tempt me not.
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. Master, is this Mistress Satan?
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. It is the devil.
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. Nay, she is worse, she is the devil's
- dam, and here she comes in the habit of a light wench; and
- thereof comes that the wenches say 'God damn me!' That's
- as much to say 'God make me a light wench!' It is written
- they appear to men like angels of light; light is an effect
- of fire, and fire will burn; ergo, light wenches will burn.
- Come not near her.
-COURTEZAN. Your man and you are marvellous merry, sir.
- Will you go with me? We'll mend our dinner here.
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. Master, if you do, expect spoon-meat,
- or bespeak a long spoon.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Why, Dromio?
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. Marry, he must have a long spoon
- that must eat with the devil.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Avoid then, fiend! What tell'st thou me of supping?
- Thou art, as you are all, a sorceress;
- I conjure thee to leave me and be gone.
-COURTEZAN. Give me the ring of mine you had at dinner,
- Or, for my diamond, the chain you promis'd,
- And I'll be gone, sir, and not trouble you.
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. Some devils ask but the parings of one's nail,
- A rush, a hair, a drop of blood, a pin,
- A nut, a cherry-stone;
- But she, more covetous, would have a chain.
- Master, be wise; an if you give it her,
- The devil will shake her chain, and fright us with it.
-COURTEZAN. I pray you, sir, my ring, or else the chain;
- I hope you do not mean to cheat me so.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Avaunt, thou witch! Come, Dromio, let us go.
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. 'Fly pride' says the peacock. Mistress, that you know.
-<Exeunt ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE and DROMIO OF SYRACUSE
-COURTEZAN. Now, out of doubt, Antipholus is mad,
- Else would he never so demean himself.
- A ring he hath of mine worth forty ducats,
- And for the same he promis'd me a chain;
- Both one and other he denies me now.
- The reason that I gather he is mad,
- Besides this present instance of his rage,
- Is a mad tale he told to-day at dinner
- Of his own doors being shut against his entrance.
- Belike his wife, acquainted with his fits,
- On purpose shut the doors against his way.
- My way is now to hie home to his house,
- And tell his wife that, being lunatic,
- He rush'd into my house and took perforce
- My ring away. This course I fittest choose,
- For forty ducats is too much to lose.
-<Exit
-
-
-SCENE 4
-
-A street
-
-Enter ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS with the OFFICER
-
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. Fear me not, man; I will not break away.
- I'll give thee, ere I leave thee, so much money,
- To warrant thee, as I am 'rested for.
- My wife is in a wayward mood to-day,
- And will not lightly trust the messenger.
- That I should be attach'd in Ephesus,
- I tell you 'twill sound harshly in her cars.
-
-Enter DROMIO OF EPHESUS, with a rope's-end
-
- Here comes my man; I think he brings the money.
- How now, sir! Have you that I sent you for?
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. Here's that, I warrant you, will pay them all.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. But where's the money?
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. Why, sir, I gave the money for the rope.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. Five hundred ducats, villain, for rope?
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. I'll serve you, sir, five hundred at the rate.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. To what end did I bid thee hie thee home?
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. To a rope's-end, sir; and to that end am I
- return'd.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. And to that end, sir, I will welcome you.
-[Beating him]
-OFFICER. Good sir, be patient.
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. Nay, 'tis for me to be patient; I am in
- adversity.
-OFFICER. Good now, hold thy tongue.
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. Nay, rather persuade him to hold his hands.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. Thou whoreson, senseless villain!
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. I would I were senseless, sir, that I
- might not feel your blows.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. Thou art sensible in nothing but
- blows, and so is an ass.
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. I am an ass indeed; you may prove it
- by my long 'ears. I have served him from the hour of my
- nativity to this instant, and have nothing at his hands for
- my service but blows. When I am cold he heats me with
- beating; when I am warm he cools me with beating. I am
- wak'd with it when I sleep; rais'd with it when I sit; driven
- out of doors with it when I go from home; welcom'd home
- with it when I return; nay, I bear it on my shoulders as
- beggar wont her brat; and I think, when he hath lam'd me,
- I shall beg with it from door to door.
-
-Enter ADRIANA, LUCIANA, the COURTEZAN, and a SCHOOLMASTER
-call'd PINCH
-
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. Come, go along; my wife is coming yonder.
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. Mistress, 'respice finem,' respect your end; or
- rather, to prophesy like the parrot, 'Beware the rope's-end.'
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. Wilt thou still talk?
-[Beating him]
-COURTEZAN. How say you now? Is not your husband mad?
-ADRIANA. His incivility confirms no less.
- Good Doctor Pinch, you are a conjurer:
- Establish him in his true sense again,
- And I will please you what you will demand.
-LUCIANA. Alas, how fiery and how sharp he looks!
-COURTEZAN. Mark how he trembles in his ecstasy.
-PINCH. Give me your hand, and let me feel your pulse.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. There is my hand, and let it feel your ear.
-[Striking him]
-PINCH. I charge thee, Satan, hous'd within this man,
- To yield possession to my holy prayers,
- And to thy state of darkness hie thee straight.
- I conjure thee by all the saints in heaven.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. Peace, doting wizard, peace! I am not mad.
-ADRIANA. O, that thou wert not, poor distressed soul!
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. You minion, you, are these your customers?
- Did this companion with the saffron face
- Revel and feast it at my house to-day,
- Whilst upon me the guilty doors were shut,
- And I denied to enter in my house?
-ADRIANA. O husband, God doth know you din'd at home,
- Where would you had remain'd until this time,
- Free from these slanders and this open shame!
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. Din'd at home! Thou villain, what sayest thou?
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. Sir, Sooth to say, you did not dine at home.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. Were not my doors lock'd up and I shut out?
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. Perdie, your doors were lock'd and you shut out.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. And did not she herself revile me there?
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. Sans fable, she herself revil'd you there.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. Did not her kitchen-maid rail, taunt, and scorn me?
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. Certes, she did; the kitchen-vestal scorn'd you.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. And did not I in rage depart from thence?
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. In verity, you did. My bones bear witness,
- That since have felt the vigour of his rage.
-ADRIANA. Is't good to soothe him in these contraries?
-PINCH. It is no shame; the fellow finds his vein,
- And, yielding to him, humours well his frenzy.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. Thou hast suborn'd the goldsmith to arrest me.
-ADRIANA. Alas, I sent you money to redeem you,
- By Dromio here, who came in haste for it.
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. Money by me! Heart and goodwill you might,
- But surely, master, not a rag of money.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. Went'st not thou to her for purse of ducats?
-ADRIANA. He came to me, and I deliver'd it.
-LUCIANA. And I am witness with her that she did.
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. God and the rope-maker bear me witness
- That I was sent for nothing but a rope!
-PINCH. Mistress, both man and master is possess'd;
- I know it by their pale and deadly looks.
- They must be bound, and laid in some dark room.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. Say, wherefore didst thou lock me forth to-day?
- And why dost thou deny the bag of gold?
-ADRIANA. I did not, gentle husband, lock thee forth.
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. And, gentle master, I receiv'd no gold;
- But I confess, sir, that we were lock'd out.
-ADRIANA. Dissembling villain, thou speak'st false in both.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. Dissembling harlot, thou art false in all,
- And art confederate with a damned pack
- To make a loathsome abject scorn of me;
- But with these nails I'll pluck out these false eyes
- That would behold in me this shameful sport.
-ADRIANA. O, bind him, bind him; let him not come near me.
-PINCH. More company! The fiend is strong within him.
-
-Enter three or four, and offer to bind him. He strives
-
-LUCIANA. Ay me, poor man, how pale and wan he looks!
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. What, will you murder me? Thou gaoler, thou,
- I am thy prisoner. Wilt thou suffer them
- To make a rescue?
-OFFICER. Masters, let him go;
- He is my prisoner, and you shall not have him.
-PINCH. Go bind this man, for he is frantic too.
-[They bind DROMIO]
-ADRIANA. What wilt thou do, thou peevish officer?
- Hast thou delight to see a wretched man
- Do outrage and displeasure to himself?
-OFFICER. He is my prisoner; if I let him go,
- The debt he owes will be requir'd of me.
-ADRIANA. I will discharge thee ere I go from thee;
- Bear me forthwith unto his creditor,
- And, knowing how the debt grows, I will pay it.
- Good Master Doctor, see him safe convey'd
- Home to my house. O most unhappy day!
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. O most unhappy strumpet!
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. Master, I am here ent'red in bond for you.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. Out on thee, villian! Wherefore
- dost thou mad me?
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. Will you be bound for nothing?
- Be mad, good master; cry 'The devil!'
-LUCIANA. God help, poor souls, how idly do they talk!
-ADRIANA. Go bear him hence. Sister, go you with me.
-<Exeunt all but ADRIANA, LUCIANA, OFFICERS, and COURTEZAN
- Say now, whose suit is he arrested at?
-OFFICER. One Angelo, a goldsmith; do you know him?
-ADRIANA. I know the man. What is the sum he owes?
-OFFICER. Two hundred ducats.
-ADRIANA. Say, how grows it due?
-OFFICER. Due for a chain your husband had of him.
-ADRIANA. He did bespeak a chain for me, but had it not.
-COURTEZAN. When as your husband, all in rage, to-day
- Came to my house, and took away my ring-
- The ring I saw upon his finger now-
- Straight after did I meet him with a chain.
-ADRIANA. It may be so, but I did never see it.
- Come, gaoler, bring me where the goldsmith is;
- I long to know the truth hereof at large.
-
-Enter ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE, with his rapier drawn, and
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE.
-
-LUCIANA. God, for thy mercy! they are loose again.
-ADRIANA. And come with naked swords.
- Let's call more help to have them bound again.
-OFFICER. Away, they'll kill us!
-<Exeunt all but ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE and
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE as fast as may be, frighted
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. I see these witches are afraid of swords.
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. She that would be your wife now ran from you.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Come to the Centaur; fetch our stuff from thence.
- I long that we were safe and sound aboard.
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. Faith, stay here this night; they will
- surely do us no harm; you saw they speak us fair, give us
- gold; methinks they are such a gentle nation that, but for
- the mountain of mad flesh that claims marriage of me,
- could find in my heart to stay here still and turn witch.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. I will not stay to-night for all the town;
- Therefore away, to get our stuff aboard.
-<Exeunt
-
-
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-
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-
-
-
-ACT V. SCENE 1
-
-A street before a priory
-
-Enter SECOND MERCHANT and ANGELO
-
-ANGELO. I am sorry, sir, that I have hind'red you;
- But I protest he had the chain of me,
- Though most dishonestly he doth deny it.
-SECOND MERCHANT. How is the man esteem'd here in the city?
-ANGELO. Of very reverend reputation, sir,
- Of credit infinite, highly belov'd,
- Second to none that lives here in the city;
- His word might bear my wealth at any time.
-SECOND MERCHANT. Speak softly; yonder, as I think, he walks.
-
-Enter ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE and DROMIO OF SYRACUSE
-
-ANGELO. 'Tis so; and that self chain about his neck
- Which he forswore most monstrously to have.
- Good sir, draw near to me, I'll speak to him.
- Signior Andpholus, I wonder much
- That you would put me to this shame and trouble;
- And, not without some scandal to yourself,
- With circumstance and oaths so to deny
- This chain, which now you wear so openly.
- Beside the charge, the shame, imprisonment,
- You have done wrong to this my honest friend;
- Who, but for staying on our controversy,
- Had hoisted sail and put to sea to-day.
- This chain you had of me; can you deny it?
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. I think I had; I never did deny it.
-SECOND MERCHANT. Yes, that you did, sir, and forswore it too.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Who heard me to deny it or forswear it?
-SECOND MERCHANT. These ears of mine, thou know'st, did hear thee.
- Fie on thee, wretch! 'tis pity that thou liv'st
- To walk where any honest men resort.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Thou art a villain to impeach me thus;
- I'll prove mine honour and mine honesty
- Against thee presently, if thou dar'st stand.
-SECOND MERCHANT. I dare, and do defy thee for a villain.
-[They draw]
-
-Enter ADRIANA, LUCIANA, the COURTEZAN, and OTHERS
-
-ADRIANA. Hold, hurt him not, for God's sake! He is mad.
- Some get within him, take his sword away;
- Bind Dromio too, and bear them to my house.
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. Run, master, run; for God's sake take a house.
- This is some priory. In, or we are spoil'd.
-<Exeunt ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE and DROMIO OF SYRACUSE to the priory
-
-Enter the LADY ABBESS
-
-ABBESS. Be quiet, people. Wherefore throng you hither?
-ADRIANA. To fetch my poor distracted husband hence.
- Let us come in, that we may bind him fast,
- And bear him home for his recovery.
-ANGELO. I knew he was not in his perfect wits.
-SECOND MERCHANT. I am sorry now that I did draw on him.
-ABBESS. How long hath this possession held the man?
-ADRIANA. This week he hath been heavy, sour, sad,
- And much different from the man he was;
- But till this afternoon his passion
- Ne'er brake into extremity of rage.
-ABBESS. Hath he not lost much wealth by wreck of sea?
- Buried some dear friend? Hath not else his eye
- Stray'd his affection in unlawful love?
- A sin prevailing much in youthful men
- Who give their eyes the liberty of gazing.
- Which of these sorrows is he subject to?
-ADRIANA. To none of these, except it be the last;
- Namely, some love that drew him oft from home.
-ABBESS. You should for that have reprehended him.
-ADRIANA. Why, so I did.
-ABBESS. Ay, but not rough enough.
-ADRIANA. As roughly as my modesty would let me.
-ABBESS. Haply in private.
-ADRIANA. And in assemblies too.
-ABBESS. Ay, but not enough.
-ADRIANA. It was the copy of our conference.
- In bed, he slept not for my urging it;
- At board, he fed not for my urging it;
- Alone, it was the subject of my theme;
- In company, I often glanced it;
- Still did I tell him it was vile and bad.
-ABBESS. And thereof came it that the man was mad.
- The venom clamours of a jealous woman
- Poisons more deadly than a mad dog's tooth.
- It seems his sleeps were hind'red by thy railing,
- And thereof comes it that his head is light.
- Thou say'st his meat was sauc'd with thy upbraidings:
- Unquiet meals make ill digestions;
- Thereof the raging fire of fever bred;
- And what's a fever but a fit of madness?
- Thou say'st his sports were hind'red by thy brawls.
- Sweet recreation barr'd, what doth ensue
- But moody and dull melancholy,
- Kinsman to grim and comfortless despair,
- And at her heels a huge infectious troop
- Of pale distemperatures and foes to life?
- In food, in sport, and life-preserving rest,
- To be disturb'd would mad or man or beast.
- The consequence is, then, thy jealous fits
- Hath scar'd thy husband from the use of wits.
-LUCIANA. She never reprehended him but mildly,
- When he demean'd himself rough, rude, and wildly.
- Why bear you these rebukes, and answer not?
-ADRIANA. She did betray me to my own reproof.
- Good people, enter, and lay hold on him.
-ABBESS. No, not a creature enters in my house.
-ADRIANA. Then let your servants bring my husband forth.
-ABBESS. Neither; he took this place for sanctuary,
- And it shall privilege him from your hands
- Till I have brought him to his wits again,
- Or lose my labour in assaying it.
-ADRIANA. I will attend my husband, be his nurse,
- Diet his sickness, for it is my office,
- And will have no attorney but myself;
- And therefore let me have him home with me.
-ABBESS. Be patient; for I will not let him stir
- Till I have us'd the approved means I have,
- With wholesome syrups, drugs, and holy prayers,
- To make of him a formal man again.
- It is a branch and parcel of mine oath,
- A charitable duty of my order;
- Therefore depart, and leave him here with me.
-ADRIANA. I will not hence and leave my husband here;
- And ill it doth beseem your holiness
- To separate the husband and the wife.
-ABBESS. Be quiet, and depart; thou shalt not have him.
-<Exit
-LUCIANA. Complain unto the Duke of this indignity.
-ADRIANA. Come, go; I will fall prostrate at his feet,
- And never rise until my tears and prayers
- Have won his Grace to come in person hither
- And take perforce my husband from the Abbess.
-SECOND MERCHANT. By this, I think, the dial points at five;
- Anon, I'm sure, the Duke himself in person
- Comes this way to the melancholy vale,
- The place of death and sorry execution,
- Behind the ditches of the abbey here.
-ANGELO. Upon what cause?
-SECOND MERCHANT. To see a reverend Syracusian merchant,
- Who put unluckily into this bay
- Against the laws and statutes of this town,
- Beheaded publicly for his offence.
-ANGELO. See where they come; we will behold his death.
-LUCIANA. Kneel to the Duke before he pass the abbey.
-
-Enter the DUKE, attended; AEGEON, bareheaded;
-with the HEADSMAN and other OFFICERS
-
-DUKE. Yet once again proclaim it publicly,
- If any friend will pay the sum for him,
- He shall not die; so much we tender him.
-ADRIANA. Justice, most sacred Duke, against the Abbess!
-DUKE. She is a virtuous and a reverend lady;
- It cannot be that she hath done thee wrong.
-ADRIANA. May it please your Grace, Antipholus, my husband,
- Who I made lord of me and all I had
- At your important letters-this ill day
- A most outrageous fit of madness took him,
- That desp'rately he hurried through the street,
- With him his bondman all as mad as he,
- Doing displeasure to the citizens
- By rushing in their houses, bearing thence
- Rings, jewels, anything his rage did like.
- Once did I get him bound and sent him home,
- Whilst to take order for the wrongs I went,
- That here and there his fury had committed.
- Anon, I wot not by what strong escape,
- He broke from those that had the guard of him,
- And with his mad attendant and himself,
- Each one with ireful passion, with drawn swords,
- Met us again and, madly bent on us,
- Chas'd us away; till, raising of more aid,
- We came again to bind them. Then they fled
- Into this abbey, whither we pursu'd them;
- And here the Abbess shuts the gates on us,
- And will not suffer us to fetch him out,
- Nor send him forth that we may bear him hence.
- Therefore, most gracious Duke, with thy command
- Let him be brought forth and borne hence for help.
-DUKE. Long since thy husband serv'd me in my wars,
- And I to thee engag'd a prince's word,
- When thou didst make him master of thy bed,
- To do him all the grace and good I could.
- Go, some of you, knock at the abbey gate,
- And bid the Lady Abbess come to me,
- I will determine this before I stir.
-
-Enter a MESSENGER
-
-MESSENGER. O mistress, mistress, shift and save yourself!
- My master and his man are both broke loose,
- Beaten the maids a-row and bound the doctor,
- Whose beard they have sing'd off with brands of fire;
- And ever, as it blaz'd, they threw on him
- Great pails of puddled mire to quench the hair.
- My master preaches patience to him, and the while
- His man with scissors nicks him like a fool;
- And sure, unless you send some present help,
- Between them they will kill the conjurer.
-ADRIANA. Peace, fool! thy master and his man are here,
- And that is false thou dost report to us.
-MESSENGER. Mistress, upon my life, I tell you true;
- I have not breath'd almost since I did see it.
- He cries for you, and vows, if he can take you,
- To scorch your face, and to disfigure you.
-[Cry within]
- Hark, hark, I hear him, mistress; fly, be gone!
-DUKE. Come, stand by me; fear nothing. Guard with halberds.
-ADRIANA. Ay me, it is my husband! Witness you
- That he is borne about invisible.
- Even now we hous'd him in the abbey here,
- And now he's there, past thought of human reason.
-
-Enter ANTIPHOLUS OFEPHESUS and DROMIO OFEPHESUS
-
-ANTIPHOLUS OFEPHESUS. Justice, most gracious Duke; O, grant me justice!
- Even for the service that long since I did thee,
- When I bestrid thee in the wars, and took
- Deep scars to save thy life; even for the blood
- That then I lost for thee, now grant me justice.
-AEGEON. Unless the fear of death doth make me dote,
- I see my son Antipholus, and Dromio.
-ANTIPHOLUS OFEPHESUS. Justice, sweet Prince, against that woman there!
- She whom thou gav'st to me to be my wife,
- That hath abused and dishonoured me
- Even in the strength and height of injury.
- Beyond imagination is the wrong
- That she this day hath shameless thrown on me.
-DUKE. Discover how, and thou shalt find me just.
-ANTIPHOLUS OFEPHESUS. This day, great Duke, she shut the doors upon me,
- While she with harlots feasted in my house.
-DUKE. A grievous fault. Say, woman, didst thou so?
-ADRIANA. No, my good lord. Myself, he, and my sister,
- To-day did dine together. So befall my soul
- As this is false he burdens me withal!
-LUCIANA. Ne'er may I look on day nor sleep on night
- But she tells to your Highness simple truth!
-ANGELO. O peflur'd woman! They are both forsworn.
- In this the madman justly chargeth them.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. My liege, I am advised what I say;
- Neither disturbed with the effect of wine,
- Nor heady-rash, provok'd with raging ire,
- Albeit my wrongs might make one wiser mad.
- This woman lock'd me out this day from dinner;
- That goldsmith there, were he not pack'd with her,
- Could witness it, for he was with me then;
- Who parted with me to go fetch a chain,
- Promising to bring it to the Porpentine,
- Where Balthazar and I did dine together.
- Our dinner done, and he not coming thither,
- I went to seek him. In the street I met him,
- And in his company that gentleman.
- There did this perjur'd goldsmith swear me down
- That I this day of him receiv'd the chain,
- Which, God he knows, I saw not; for the which
- He did arrest me with an officer.
- I did obey, and sent my peasant home
- For certain ducats; he with none return'd.
- Then fairly I bespoke the officer
- To go in person with me to my house.
- By th' way we met my wife, her sister, and a rabble more
- Of vile confederates. Along with them
- They brought one Pinch, a hungry lean-fac'd villain,
- A mere anatomy, a mountebank,
- A threadbare juggler, and a fortune-teller,
- A needy, hollow-ey'd, sharp-looking wretch,
- A living dead man. This pernicious slave,
- Forsooth, took on him as a conjurer,
- And gazing in mine eyes, feeling my pulse,
- And with no face, as 'twere, outfacing me,
- Cries out I was possess'd. Then all together
- They fell upon me, bound me, bore me thence,
- And in a dark and dankish vault at home
- There left me and my man, both bound together;
- Till, gnawing with my teeth my bonds in sunder,
- I gain'd my freedom, and immediately
- Ran hither to your Grace; whom I beseech
- To give me ample satisfaction
- For these deep shames and great indignities.
-ANGELO. My lord, in truth, thus far I witness with him,
- That he din'd not at home, but was lock'd out.
-DUKE. But had he such a chain of thee, or no?
-ANGELO. He had, my lord, and when he ran in here,
- These people saw the chain about his neck.
-SECOND MERCHANT. Besides, I will be sworn these ears of mine
- Heard you confess you had the chain of him,
- After you first forswore it on the mart;
- And thereupon I drew my sword on you,
- And then you fled into this abbey here,
- From whence, I think, you are come by miracle.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. I never came within these abbey walls,
- Nor ever didst thou draw thy sword on me;
- I never saw the chain, so help me Heaven!
- And this is false you burden me withal.
-DUKE. Why, what an intricate impeach is this!
- I think you all have drunk of Circe's cup.
- If here you hous'd him, here he would have been;
- If he were mad, he would not plead so coldly.
- You say he din'd at home: the goldsmith here
- Denies that saying. Sirrah, what say you?
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. Sir, he din'd with her there, at the Porpentine.
-COURTEZAN. He did; and from my finger snatch'd that ring.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. 'Tis true, my liege; this ring I had of her.
-DUKE. Saw'st thou him enter at the abbey here?
-COURTEZAN. As sure, my liege, as I do see your Grace.
-DUKE. Why, this is strange. Go call the Abbess hither.
- I think you are all mated or stark mad.
-<Exit one to the ABBESS
-AEGEON. Most mighty Duke, vouchsafe me speak a word:
- Haply I see a friend will save my life
- And pay the sum that may deliver me.
-DUKE. Speak freely, Syracusian, what thou wilt.
-AEGEON. Is not your name, sir, call'd Antipholus?
- And is not that your bondman Dromio?
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. Within this hour I was his bondman, sir,
- But he, I thank him, gnaw'd in two my cords
- Now am I Dromio and his man unbound.
-AEGEON. I am sure you both of you remember me.
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. Ourselves we do remember, sir, by you;
- For lately we were bound as you are now.
- You are not Pinch's patient, are you, sir?
-AEGEON. Why look you strange on me? You know me well.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. I never saw you in my life till now.
-AEGEON. O! grief hath chang'd me since you saw me last;
- And careful hours with time's deformed hand
- Have written strange defeatures in my face.
- But tell me yet, dost thou not know my voice?
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. Neither.
-AEGEON. Dromio, nor thou?
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. No, trust me, sir, nor I.
-AEGEON. I am sure thou dost.
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. Ay, sir, but I am sure I do not; and
- whatsoever a man denies, you are now bound to believe him.
-AEGEON. Not know my voice! O time's extremity,
- Hast thou so crack'd and splitted my poor tongue
- In seven short years that here my only son
- Knows not my feeble key of untun'd cares?
- Though now this grained face of mine be hid
- In sap-consuming winter's drizzled snow,
- And all the conduits of my blood froze up,
- Yet hath my night of life some memory,
- My wasting lamps some fading glimmer left,
- My dull deaf ears a little use to hear;
- All these old witnesses-I cannot err-
- Tell me thou art my son Antipholus.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. I never saw my father in my life.
-AEGEON. But seven years since, in Syracuse, boy,
- Thou know'st we parted; but perhaps, my son,
- Thou sham'st to acknowledge me in misery.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. The Duke and all that know me in
- the city Can witness with me that it is not so:
- I ne'er saw Syracuse in my life.
-DUKE. I tell thee, Syracusian, twenty years
- Have I been patron to Antipholus,
- During which time he ne'er saw Syracuse.
- I see thy age and dangers make thee dote.
-
-Re-enter the ABBESS, with ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE and DROMIO OF SYRACUSE
-
-ABBESS. Most mighty Duke, behold a man much wrong'd.
-[All gather to see them]
-ADRIANA. I see two husbands, or mine eyes deceive me.
-DUKE. One of these men is genius to the other;
- And so of these. Which is the natural man,
- And which the spirit? Who deciphers them?
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. I, sir, am Dromio; command him away.
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. I, Sir, am Dromio; pray let me stay.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Aegeon, art thou not? or else his
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. O, my old master! who hath bound
-ABBESS. Whoever bound him, I will loose his bonds,
- And gain a husband by his liberty.
- Speak, old Aegeon, if thou be'st the man
- That hadst a wife once call'd Aemilia,
- That bore thee at a burden two fair sons.
- O, if thou be'st the same Aegeon, speak,
- And speak unto the same Aemilia!
-AEGEON. If I dream not, thou art Aemilia.
- If thou art she, tell me where is that son
- That floated with thee on the fatal raft?
-ABBESS. By men of Epidamnum he and I
- And the twin Dromio, all were taken up;
- But by and by rude fishermen of Corinth
- By force took Dromio and my son from them,
- And me they left with those of Epidamnum.
- What then became of them I cannot tell;
- I to this fortune that you see me in.
-DUKE. Why, here begins his morning story right.
- These two Antipholus', these two so like,
- And these two Dromios, one in semblance-
- Besides her urging of her wreck at sea-
- These are the parents to these children,
- Which accidentally are met together.
- Antipholus, thou cam'st from Corinth first?
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. No, sir, not I; I came from Syracuse.
-DUKE. Stay, stand apart; I know not which is which.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. I came from Corinth, my most gracious lord.
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. And I with him.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. Brought to this town by that most famous warrior,
- Duke Menaphon, your most renowned uncle.
-ADRIANA. Which of you two did dine with me to-day?
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. I, gentle mistress.
-ADRIANA. And are not you my husband?
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. No; I say nay to that.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. And so do I, yet did she call me so;
- And this fair gentlewoman, her sister here,
- Did call me brother. [To LUCIANA] What I told you then,
- I hope I shall have leisure to make good;
- If this be not a dream I see and hear.
-ANGELO. That is the chain, sir, which you had of me.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. I think it be, sir; I deny it not.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. And you, sir, for this chain arrested me.
-ANGELO. I think I did, sir; I deny it not.
-ADRIANA. I sent you money, sir, to be your bail,
- By Dromio; but I think he brought it not.
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. No, none by me.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. This purse of ducats I receiv'd from you,
- And Dromio my man did bring them me.
- I see we still did meet each other's man,
- And I was ta'en for him, and he for me,
- And thereupon these ERRORS are arose.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. These ducats pawn I for my father here.
-DUKE. It shall not need; thy father hath his life.
-COURTEZAN. Sir, I must have that diamond from you.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. There, take it; and much thanks for my
- good cheer.
-ABBESS. Renowned Duke, vouchsafe to take the pains
- To go with us into the abbey here,
- And hear at large discoursed all our fortunes;
- And all that are assembled in this place
- That by this sympathized one day's error
- Have suffer'd wrong, go keep us company,
- And we shall make full satisfaction.
- Thirty-three years have I but gone in travail
- Of you, my sons; and till this present hour
- My heavy burden ne'er delivered.
- The Duke, my husband, and my children both,
- And you the calendars of their nativity,
- Go to a gossips' feast, and go with me;
- After so long grief, such nativity!
-DUKE. With all my heart, I'll gossip at this feast.
-<Exeunt all but ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE, ANTIPHOLUS OF
-EPHESUS, DROMIO OF SYRACUSE, and DROMIO OF EPHESUS
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. Master, shall I fetch your stuff from shipboard?
-ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. Dromio, what stuff of mine hast thou embark'd?
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. Your goods that lay at host, sir, in the Centaur.
-ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. He speaks to me. I am your master, Dromio.
- Come, go with us; we'll look to that anon.
- Embrace thy brother there; rejoice with him.
-<Exeunt ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE and ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. There is a fat friend at your master's house,
- That kitchen'd me for you to-day at dinner;
- She now shall be my sister, not my wife.
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. Methinks you are my glass, and not my brother;
- I see by you I am a sweet-fac'd youth.
- Will you walk in to see their gossiping?
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. Not I, sir; you are my elder.
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. That's a question; how shall we try it?
-DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. We'll draw cuts for the senior; till then,
- lead thou first.
-DROMIO OF EPHESUS. Nay, then, thus:
- We came into the world like brother and brother,
- And now let's go hand in hand, not one before another.
-<Exeunt
-
-
-THE END
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-
-
-1608
-
-THE TRAGEDY OF CORIOLANUS
-
-by William Shakespeare
-
-
-
-Dramatis Personae
-
- CAIUS MARCIUS, afterwards CAIUS MARCIUS CORIOLANUS
-
- Generals against the Volscians
- TITUS LARTIUS
- COMINIUS
-
- MENENIUS AGRIPPA, friend to Coriolanus
-
- Tribunes of the People
- SICINIUS VELUTUS
- JUNIUS BRUTUS
-
- YOUNG MARCIUS, son to Coriolanus
- A ROMAN HERALD
- NICANOR, a Roman
- TULLUS AUFIDIUS, General of the Volscians
- LIEUTENANT, to Aufidius
- CONSPIRATORS, With Aufidius
- ADRIAN, a Volscian
- A CITIZEN of Antium
- TWO VOLSCIAN GUARDS
-
- VOLUMNIA, mother to Coriolanus
- VIRGILIA, wife to Coriolanus
- VALERIA, friend to Virgilia
- GENTLEWOMAN attending on Virgilia
-
- Roman and Volscian Senators, Patricians, Aediles, Lictors,
- Soldiers, Citizens, Messengers, Servants to Aufidius, and other
- Attendants
-
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-SCENE:
-Rome and the neighbourhood; Corioli and the neighbourhood; Antium
-
-
-
-ACT I. SCENE I.
-Rome. A street
-
-Enter a company of mutinous citizens, with staves, clubs, and other weapons
-
- FIRST CITIZEN. Before we proceed any further, hear me speak.
- ALL. Speak, speak.
- FIRST CITIZEN. YOU are all resolv'd rather to die than to famish?
- ALL. Resolv'd, resolv'd.
- FIRST CITIZEN. First, you know Caius Marcius is chief enemy to the
- people.
- ALL. We know't, we know't.
- FIRST CITIZEN. Let us kill him, and we'll have corn at our own
- price. Is't a verdict?
- ALL. No more talking on't; let it be done. Away, away!
- SECOND CITIZEN. One word, good citizens.
- FIRST CITIZEN. We are accounted poor citizens, the patricians good.
- What authority surfeits on would relieve us; if they would yield
- us but the superfluity while it were wholesome, we might guess
- they relieved us humanely; but they think we are too dear. The
- leanness that afflicts us, the object of our misery, is as an
- inventory to particularize their abundance; our sufferance is a
- gain to them. Let us revenge this with our pikes ere we become
- rakes; for the gods know I speak this in hunger for bread, not in
- thirst for revenge.
- SECOND CITIZEN. Would you proceed especially against Caius Marcius?
- FIRST CITIZEN. Against him first; he's a very dog to the
- commonalty.
- SECOND CITIZEN. Consider you what services he has done for his
- country?
- FIRST CITIZEN. Very well, and could be content to give him good
- report for't but that he pays himself with being proud.
- SECOND CITIZEN. Nay, but speak not maliciously.
- FIRST CITIZEN. I say unto you, what he hath done famously he did it
- to that end; though soft-conscienc'd men can be content to say it
- was for his country, he did it to please his mother and to be
- partly proud, which he is, even to the altitude of his virtue.
- SECOND CITIZEN. What he cannot help in his nature you account a
- vice in him. You must in no way say he is covetous.
- FIRST CITIZEN. If I must not, I need not be barren of accusations;
- he hath faults, with surplus, to tire in repetition. [Shouts
- within] What shouts are these? The other side o' th' city is
- risen. Why stay we prating here? To th' Capitol!
- ALL. Come, come.
- FIRST CITIZEN. Soft! who comes here?
-
- Enter MENENIUS AGRIPPA
-
- SECOND CITIZEN. Worthy Menenius Agrippa; one that hath always lov'd
- the people.
- FIRST CITIZEN. He's one honest enough; would all the rest were so!
- MENENIUS. What work's, my countrymen, in hand? Where go you
- With bats and clubs? The matter? Speak, I pray you.
- FIRST CITIZEN. Our business is not unknown to th' Senate; they have
- had inkling this fortnight what we intend to do, which now we'll
- show 'em in deeds. They say poor suitors have strong breaths;
- they shall know we have strong arms too.
- MENENIUS. Why, masters, my good friends, mine honest neighbours,
- Will you undo yourselves?
- FIRST CITIZEN. We cannot, sir; we are undone already.
- MENENIUS. I tell you, friends, most charitable care
- Have the patricians of you. For your wants,
- Your suffering in this dearth, you may as well
- Strike at the heaven with your staves as lift them
- Against the Roman state; whose course will on
- The way it takes, cracking ten thousand curbs
- Of more strong link asunder than can ever
- Appear in your impediment. For the dearth,
- The gods, not the patricians, make it, and
- Your knees to them, not arms, must help. Alack,
- You are transported by calamity
- Thither where more attends you; and you slander
- The helms o' th' state, who care for you like fathers,
- When you curse them as enemies.
- FIRST CITIZEN. Care for us! True, indeed! They ne'er car'd for us
- yet. Suffer us to famish, and their storehouses cramm'd with
- grain; make edicts for usury, to support usurers; repeal daily
- any wholesome act established against the rich, and provide more
- piercing statutes daily to chain up and restrain the poor. If the
- wars eat us not up, they will; and there's all the love they bear
- us.
- MENENIUS. Either you must
- Confess yourselves wondrous malicious,
- Or be accus'd of folly. I shall tell you
- A pretty tale. It may be you have heard it;
- But, since it serves my purpose, I will venture
- To stale't a little more.
- FIRST CITIZEN. Well, I'll hear it, sir; yet you must not think to
- fob off our disgrace with a tale. But, an't please you, deliver.
- MENENIUS. There was a time when all the body's members
- Rebell'd against the belly; thus accus'd it:
- That only like a gulf it did remain
- I' th' midst o' th' body, idle and unactive,
- Still cupboarding the viand, never bearing
- Like labour with the rest; where th' other instruments
- Did see and hear, devise, instruct, walk, feel,
- And, mutually participate, did minister
- Unto the appetite and affection common
- Of the whole body. The belly answer'd-
- FIRST CITIZEN. Well, sir, what answer made the belly?
- MENENIUS. Sir, I shall tell you. With a kind of smile,
- Which ne'er came from the lungs, but even thus-
- For look you, I may make the belly smile
- As well as speak- it tauntingly replied
- To th' discontented members, the mutinous parts
- That envied his receipt; even so most fitly
- As you malign our senators for that
- They are not such as you.
- FIRST CITIZEN. Your belly's answer- What?
- The kingly crowned head, the vigilant eye,
- The counsellor heart, the arm our soldier,
- Our steed the leg, the tongue our trumpeter,
- With other muniments and petty helps
- Is this our fabric, if that they-
- MENENIUS. What then?
- Fore me, this fellow speaks! What then? What then?
- FIRST CITIZEN. Should by the cormorant belly be restrain'd,
- Who is the sink o' th' body-
- MENENIUS. Well, what then?
- FIRST CITIZEN. The former agents, if they did complain,
- What could the belly answer?
- MENENIUS. I will tell you;
- If you'll bestow a small- of what you have little-
- Patience awhile, you'st hear the belly's answer.
- FIRST CITIZEN. Y'are long about it.
- MENENIUS. Note me this, good friend:
- Your most grave belly was deliberate,
- Not rash like his accusers, and thus answered.
- 'True is it, my incorporate friends,' quoth he
- 'That I receive the general food at first
- Which you do live upon; and fit it is,
- Because I am the storehouse and the shop
- Of the whole body. But, if you do remember,
- I send it through the rivers of your blood,
- Even to the court, the heart, to th' seat o' th' brain;
- And, through the cranks and offices of man,
- The strongest nerves and small inferior veins
- From me receive that natural competency
- Whereby they live. And though that all at once
- You, my good friends'- this says the belly; mark me.
- FIRST CITIZEN. Ay, sir; well, well.
- MENENIUS. 'Though all at once cannot
- See what I do deliver out to each,
- Yet I can make my audit up, that all
- From me do back receive the flour of all,
- And leave me but the bran.' What say you to' t?
- FIRST CITIZEN. It was an answer. How apply you this?
- MENENIUS. The senators of Rome are this good belly,
- And you the mutinous members; for, examine
- Their counsels and their cares, digest things rightly
- Touching the weal o' th' common, you shall find
- No public benefit which you receive
- But it proceeds or comes from them to you,
- And no way from yourselves. What do you think,
- You, the great toe of this assembly?
- FIRST CITIZEN. I the great toe? Why the great toe?
- MENENIUS. For that, being one o' th' lowest, basest, poorest,
- Of this most wise rebellion, thou goest foremost.
- Thou rascal, that art worst in blood to run,
- Lead'st first to win some vantage.
- But make you ready your stiff bats and clubs.
- Rome and her rats are at the point of battle;
- The one side must have bale.
-
- Enter CAIUS MARCIUS
-
- Hail, noble Marcius!
- MARCIUS. Thanks. What's the matter, you dissentious rogues
- That, rubbing the poor itch of your opinion,
- Make yourselves scabs?
- FIRST CITIZEN. We have ever your good word.
- MARCIUS. He that will give good words to thee will flatter
- Beneath abhorring. What would you have, you curs,
- That like nor peace nor war? The one affrights you,
- The other makes you proud. He that trusts to you,
- Where he should find you lions, finds you hares;
- Where foxes, geese; you are no surer, no,
- Than is the coal of fire upon the ice
- Or hailstone in the sun. Your virtue is
- To make him worthy whose offence subdues him,
- And curse that justice did it. Who deserves greatness
- Deserves your hate; and your affections are
- A sick man's appetite, who desires most that
- Which would increase his evil. He that depends
- Upon your favours swims with fins of lead,
- And hews down oaks with rushes. Hang ye! Trust ye?
- With every minute you do change a mind
- And call him noble that was now your hate,
- Him vile that was your garland. What's the matter
- That in these several places of the city
- You cry against the noble Senate, who,
- Under the gods, keep you in awe, which else
- Would feed on one another? What's their seeking?
- MENENIUS. For corn at their own rates, whereof they say
- The city is well stor'd.
- MARCIUS. Hang 'em! They say!
- They'll sit by th' fire and presume to know
- What's done i' th' Capitol, who's like to rise,
- Who thrives and who declines; side factions, and give out
- Conjectural marriages, making parties strong,
- And feebling such as stand not in their liking
- Below their cobbled shoes. They say there's grain enough!
- Would the nobility lay aside their ruth
- And let me use my sword, I'd make a quarry
- With thousands of these quarter'd slaves, as high
- As I could pick my lance.
- MENENIUS. Nay, these are almost thoroughly persuaded;
- For though abundantly they lack discretion,
- Yet are they passing cowardly. But, I beseech you,
- What says the other troop?
- MARCIUS. They are dissolv'd. Hang 'em!
- They said they were an-hungry; sigh'd forth proverbs-
- That hunger broke stone walls, that dogs must eat,
- That meat was made for mouths, that the gods sent not
- Corn for the rich men only. With these shreds
- They vented their complainings; which being answer'd,
- And a petition granted them- a strange one,
- To break the heart of generosity
- And make bold power look pale- they threw their caps
- As they would hang them on the horns o' th' moon,
- Shouting their emulation.
- MENENIUS. What is granted them?
- MARCIUS. Five tribunes, to defend their vulgar wisdoms,
- Of their own choice. One's Junius Brutus-
- Sicinius Velutus, and I know not. 'Sdeath!
- The rabble should have first unroof'd the city
- Ere so prevail'd with me; it will in time
- Win upon power and throw forth greater themes
- For insurrection's arguing.
- MENENIUS. This is strange.
- MARCIUS. Go get you home, you fragments.
-
- Enter a MESSENGER, hastily
-
- MESSENGER. Where's Caius Marcius?
- MARCIUS. Here. What's the matter?
- MESSENGER. The news is, sir, the Volsces are in arms.
- MARCIUS. I am glad on't; then we shall ha' means to vent
- Our musty superfluity. See, our best elders.
-
- Enter COMINIUS, TITUS LARTIUS, with other SENATORS;
- JUNIUS BRUTUS and SICINIUS VELUTUS
-
- FIRST SENATOR. Marcius, 'tis true that you have lately told us:
- The Volsces are in arms.
- MARCIUS. They have a leader,
- Tullus Aufidius, that will put you to't.
- I sin in envying his nobility;
- And were I anything but what I am,
- I would wish me only he.
- COMINIUS. You have fought together?
- MARCIUS. Were half to half the world by th' ears, and he
- Upon my party, I'd revolt, to make
- Only my wars with him. He is a lion
- That I am proud to hunt.
- FIRST SENATOR. Then, worthy Marcius,
- Attend upon Cominius to these wars.
- COMINIUS. It is your former promise.
- MARCIUS. Sir, it is;
- And I am constant. Titus Lartius, thou
- Shalt see me once more strike at Tullus' face.
- What, art thou stiff? Stand'st out?
- LARTIUS. No, Caius Marcius;
- I'll lean upon one crutch and fight with t'other
- Ere stay behind this business.
- MENENIUS. O, true bred!
- FIRST SENATOR. Your company to th' Capitol; where, I know,
- Our greatest friends attend us.
- LARTIUS. [To COMINIUS] Lead you on.
- [To MARCIUS] Follow Cominius; we must follow you;
- Right worthy you priority.
- COMINIUS. Noble Marcius!
- FIRST SENATOR. [To the Citizens] Hence to your homes; be gone.
- MARCIUS. Nay, let them follow.
- The Volsces have much corn: take these rats thither
- To gnaw their garners. Worshipful mutineers,
- Your valour puts well forth; pray follow.
- Ciitzens steal away. Exeunt all but SICINIUS and BRUTUS
- SICINIUS. Was ever man so proud as is this Marcius?
- BRUTUS. He has no equal.
- SICINIUS. When we were chosen tribunes for the people-
- BRUTUS. Mark'd you his lip and eyes?
- SICINIUS. Nay, but his taunts!
- BRUTUS. Being mov'd, he will not spare to gird the gods.
- SICINIUS. Bemock the modest moon.
- BRUTUS. The present wars devour him! He is grown
- Too proud to be so valiant.
- SICINIUS. Such a nature,
- Tickled with good success, disdains the shadow
- Which he treads on at noon. But I do wonder
- His insolence can brook to be commanded
- Under Cominius.
- BRUTUS. Fame, at the which he aims-
- In whom already he is well grac'd- cannot
- Better be held nor more attain'd than by
- A place below the first; for what miscarries
- Shall be the general's fault, though he perform
- To th' utmost of a man, and giddy censure
- Will then cry out of Marcius 'O, if he
- Had borne the business!'
- SICINIUS. Besides, if things go well,
- Opinion, that so sticks on Marcius, shall
- Of his demerits rob Cominius.
- BRUTUS. Come.
- Half all Cominius' honours are to Marcius,
- Though Marcius earn'd them not; and all his faults
- To Marcius shall be honours, though indeed
- In aught he merit not.
- SICINIUS. Let's hence and hear
- How the dispatch is made, and in what fashion,
- More than his singularity, he goes
- Upon this present action.
- BRUTUS. Let's along. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-Corioli. The Senate House.
-
-Enter TULLUS AUFIDIUS with SENATORS of Corioli
-
- FIRST SENATOR. So, your opinion is, Aufidius,
- That they of Rome are ent'red in our counsels
- And know how we proceed.
- AUFIDIUS. Is it not yours?
- What ever have been thought on in this state
- That could be brought to bodily act ere Rome
- Had circumvention? 'Tis not four days gone
- Since I heard thence; these are the words- I think
- I have the letter here;.yes, here it is:
- [Reads] 'They have press'd a power, but it is not known
- Whether for east or west. The dearth is great;
- The people mutinous; and it is rumour'd,
- Cominius, Marcius your old enemy,
- Who is of Rome worse hated than of you,
- And Titus Lartius, a most valiant Roman,
- These three lead on this preparation
- Whither 'tis bent. Most likely 'tis for you;
- Consider of it.'
- FIRST SENATOR. Our army's in the field;
- We never yet made doubt but Rome was ready
- To answer us.
- AUFIDIUS. Nor did you think it folly
- To keep your great pretences veil'd till when
- They needs must show themselves; which in the hatching,
- It seem'd, appear'd to Rome. By the discovery
- We shall be short'ned in our aim, which was
- To take in many towns ere almost Rome
- Should know we were afoot.
- SECOND SENATOR. Noble Aufidius,
- Take your commission; hie you to your bands;
- Let us alone to guard Corioli.
- If they set down before's, for the remove
- Bring up your army; but I think you'll find
- Th' have not prepar'd for us.
- AUFIDIUS. O, doubt not that!
- I speak from certainties. Nay more,
- Some parcels of their power are forth already,
- And only hitherward. I leave your honours.
- If we and Caius Marcius chance to meet,
- 'Tis sworn between us we shall ever strike
- Till one can do no more.
- ALL. The gods assist you!
- AUFIDIUS. And keep your honours safe!
- FIRST SENATOR. Farewell.
- SECOND SENATOR. Farewell.
- ALL. Farewell. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-Rome. MARCIUS' house
-
-Enter VOLUMNIA and VIRGILIA, mother and wife to MARCIUS;
-they set them down on two low stools and sew
-
- VOLUMNIA. I pray you, daughter, sing, or express yourself in a more
- comfortable sort. If my son were my husband, I should freelier
- rejoice in that absence wherein he won honour than in the
- embracements of his bed where he would show most love. When yet
- he was but tender-bodied, and the only son of my womb; when youth
- with comeliness pluck'd all gaze his way; when, for a day of
- kings' entreaties, a mother should not sell him an hour from her
- beholding; I, considering how honour would become such a person-
- that it was no better than picture-like to hang by th' wall, if
- renown made it not stir- was pleas'd to let him seek danger where
- he was to find fame. To a cruel war I sent him, from whence he
- return'd his brows bound with oak. I tell thee, daughter, I
- sprang not more in joy at first hearing he was a man-child than
- now in first seeing he had proved himself a man.
- VIRGILIA. But had he died in the business, madam, how then?
- VOLUMNIA. Then his good report should have been my son; I therein
- would have found issue. Hear me profess sincerely: had I a dozen
- sons, each in my love alike, and none less dear than thine and my
- good Marcius, I had rather had eleven die nobly for their country
- than one voluptuously surfeit out of action.
-
- Enter a GENTLEWOMAN
-
- GENTLEWOMAN. Madam, the Lady Valeria is come to visit you.
- VIRGILIA. Beseech you give me leave to retire myself.
- VOLUMNIA. Indeed you shall not.
- Methinks I hear hither your husband's drum;
- See him pluck Aufidius down by th' hair;
- As children from a bear, the Volsces shunning him.
- Methinks I see him stamp thus, and call thus:
- 'Come on, you cowards! You were got in fear,
- Though you were born in Rome.' His bloody brow
- With his mail'd hand then wiping, forth he goes,
- Like to a harvest-man that's task'd to mow
- Or all or lose his hire.
- VIRGILIA. His bloody brow? O Jupiter, no blood!
- VOLUMNIA. Away, you fool! It more becomes a man
- Than gilt his trophy. The breasts of Hecuba,
- When she did suckle Hector, look'd not lovelier
- Than Hector's forehead when it spit forth blood
- At Grecian sword, contemning. Tell Valeria
- We are fit to bid her welcome. Exit GENTLEWOMAN
- VIRGILIA. Heavens bless my lord from fell Aufidius!
- VOLUMNIA. He'll beat Aufidius' head below his knee
- And tread upon his neck.
-
- Re-enter GENTLEWOMAN, With VALERIA and an usher
-
- VALERIA. My ladies both, good day to you.
- VOLUMNIA. Sweet madam!
- VIRGILIA. I am glad to see your ladyship.
- VALERIA. How do you both? You are manifest housekeepers. What are
- you sewing here? A fine spot, in good faith. How does your little
- son?
- VIRGILIA. I thank your ladyship; well, good madam.
- VOLUMNIA. He had rather see the swords and hear a drum than look
- upon his schoolmaster.
- VALERIA. O' my word, the father's son! I'll swear 'tis a very
- pretty boy. O' my troth, I look'd upon him a Wednesday half an
- hour together; has such a confirm'd countenance! I saw him run
- after a gilded butterfly; and when he caught it he let it go
- again, and after it again, and over and over he comes, and up
- again, catch'd it again; or whether his fall enrag'd him, or how
- 'twas, he did so set his teeth and tear it. O, I warrant, how he
- mammock'd it!
- VOLUMNIA. One on's father's moods.
- VALERIA. Indeed, la, 'tis a noble child.
- VIRGILIA. A crack, madam.
- VALERIA. Come, lay aside your stitchery; I must have you play the
- idle huswife with me this afternoon.
- VIRGILIA. No, good madam; I will not out of doors.
- VALERIA. Not out of doors!
- VOLUMNIA. She shall, she shall.
- VIRGILIA. Indeed, no, by your patience; I'll not over the threshold
- till my lord return from the wars.
- VALERIA. Fie, you confine yourself most unreasonably; come, you
- must go visit the good lady that lies in.
- VIRGILIA. I will wish her speedy strength, and visit her with my
- prayers; but I cannot go thither.
- VOLUMNIA. Why, I pray you?
- VIRGILIA. 'Tis not to save labour, nor that I want love.
- VALERIA. You would be another Penelope; yet they say all the yarn
- she spun in Ulysses' absence did but fill Ithaca full of moths.
- Come, I would your cambric were sensible as your finger, that you
- might leave pricking it for pity. Come, you shall go with us.
- VIRGILIA. No, good madam, pardon me; indeed I will not forth.
- VALERIA. In truth, la, go with me; and I'll tell you excellent news
- of your husband.
- VIRGILIA. O, good madam, there can be none yet.
- VALERIA. Verily, I do not jest with you; there came news from him
- last night.
- VIRGILIA. Indeed, madam?
- VALERIA. In earnest, it's true; I heard a senator speak it. Thus it
- is: the Volsces have an army forth; against whom Cominius the
- general is gone, with one part of our Roman power. Your lord and
- Titus Lartius are set down before their city Corioli; they
- nothing doubt prevailing and to make it brief wars. This is true,
- on mine honour; and so, I pray, go with us.
- VIRGILIA. Give me excuse, good madam; I will obey you in everything
- hereafter.
- VOLUMNIA. Let her alone, lady; as she is now, she will but disease
- our better mirth.
- VALERIA. In troth, I think she would. Fare you well, then. Come,
- good sweet lady. Prithee, Virgilia, turn thy solemness out o'
- door and go along with us.
- VIRGILIA. No, at a word, madam; indeed I must not. I wish you much
- mirth.
- VALERIA. Well then, farewell. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE IV.
-Before Corioli
-
-Enter MARCIUS, TITUS LARTIUS, with drum and colours,
-with CAPTAINS and soldiers. To them a MESSENGER
-
- MARCIUS. Yonder comes news; a wager- they have met.
- LARTIUS. My horse to yours- no.
- MARCIUS. 'Tis done.
- LARTIUS. Agreed.
- MARCIUS. Say, has our general met the enemy?
- MESSENGER. They lie in view, but have not spoke as yet.
- LARTIUS. So, the good horse is mine.
- MARCIUS. I'll buy him of you.
- LARTIUS. No, I'll nor sell nor give him; lend you him I will
- For half a hundred years. Summon the town.
- MARCIUS. How far off lie these armies?
- MESSENGER. Within this mile and half.
- MARCIUS. Then shall we hear their 'larum, and they ours.
- Now, Mars, I prithee, make us quick in work,
- That we with smoking swords may march from hence
- To help our fielded friends! Come, blow thy blast.
-
- They sound a parley. Enter two SENATORS with others,
- on the walls of Corioli
-
- Tullus Aufidius, is he within your walls?
- FIRST SENATOR. No, nor a man that fears you less than he:
- That's lesser than a little. [Drum afar off] Hark, our drums
- Are bringing forth our youth. We'll break our walls
- Rather than they shall pound us up; our gates,
- Which yet seem shut, we have but pinn'd with rushes;
- They'll open of themselves. [Alarum far off] Hark you far off!
- There is Aufidius. List what work he makes
- Amongst your cloven army.
- MARCIUS. O, they are at it!
- LARTIUS. Their noise be our instruction. Ladders, ho!
-
- Enter the army of the Volsces
-
- MARCIUS. They fear us not, but issue forth their city.
- Now put your shields before your hearts, and fight
- With hearts more proof than shields. Advance, brave Titus.
- They do disdain us much beyond our thoughts,
- Which makes me sweat with wrath. Come on, my fellows.
- He that retires, I'll take him for a Volsce,
- And he shall feel mine edge.
-
- Alarum. The Romans are beat back to their trenches.
- Re-enter MARCIUS, cursing
-
- MARCIUS. All the contagion of the south light on you,
- You shames of Rome! you herd of- Boils and plagues
- Plaster you o'er, that you may be abhorr'd
- Farther than seen, and one infect another
- Against the wind a mile! You souls of geese
- That bear the shapes of men, how have you run
- From slaves that apes would beat! Pluto and hell!
- All hurt behind! Backs red, and faces pale
- With flight and agued fear! Mend and charge home,
- Or, by the fires of heaven, I'll leave the foe
- And make my wars on you. Look to't. Come on;
- If you'll stand fast we'll beat them to their wives,
- As they us to our trenches. Follow me.
-
- Another alarum. The Volsces fly, and MARCIUS follows
- them to the gates
-
- So, now the gates are ope; now prove good seconds;
- 'Tis for the followers fortune widens them,
- Not for the fliers. Mark me, and do the like.
-
- [MARCIUS enters the gates]
-
- FIRST SOLDIER. Fool-hardiness; not I.
- SECOND SOLDIER. Not I. [MARCIUS is shut in]
- FIRST SOLDIER. See, they have shut him in.
- ALL. To th' pot, I warrant him. [Alarum continues]
-
- Re-enter TITUS LARTIUS
-
- LARTIUS. What is become of Marcius?
- ALL. Slain, sir, doubtless.
- FIRST SOLDIER. Following the fliers at the very heels,
- With them he enters; who, upon the sudden,
- Clapp'd to their gates. He is himself alone,
- To answer all the city.
- LARTIUS. O noble fellow!
- Who sensibly outdares his senseless sword,
- And when it bows stand'st up. Thou art left, Marcius;
- A carbuncle entire, as big as thou art,
- Were not so rich a jewel. Thou wast a soldier
- Even to Cato's wish, not fierce and terrible
- Only in strokes; but with thy grim looks and
- The thunder-like percussion of thy sounds
- Thou mad'st thine enemies shake, as if the world
- Were feverous and did tremble.
-
- Re-enter MARCIUS, bleeding, assaulted by the enemy
-
- FIRST SOLDIER. Look, sir.
- LARTIUS. O, 'tis Marcius!
- Let's fetch him off, or make remain alike.
- [They fight, and all enter the city]
-
-
-
-
-SCENE V.
-Within Corioli. A street
-
-Enter certain Romans, with spoils
-
- FIRST ROMAN. This will I carry to Rome.
- SECOND ROMAN. And I this.
- THIRD ROMAN. A murrain on 't! I took this for silver.
- [Alarum continues still afar off]
-
- Enter MARCIUS and TITUS LARTIUS With a trumpeter
-
- MARCIUS. See here these movers that do prize their hours
- At a crack'd drachma! Cushions, leaden spoons,
- Irons of a doit, doublets that hangmen would
- Bury with those that wore them, these base slaves,
- Ere yet the fight be done, pack up. Down with them!
- Exeunt pillagers
- And hark, what noise the general makes! To him!
- There is the man of my soul's hate, Aufidius,
- Piercing our Romans; then, valiant Titus, take
- Convenient numbers to make good the city;
- Whilst I, with those that have the spirit, will haste
- To help Cominius.
- LARTIUS. Worthy sir, thou bleed'st;
- Thy exercise hath been too violent
- For a second course of fight.
- MARCIUS. Sir, praise me not;
- My work hath yet not warm'd me. Fare you well;
- The blood I drop is rather physical
- Than dangerous to me. To Aufidius thus
- I will appear, and fight.
- LARTIUS. Now the fair goddess, Fortune,
- Fall deep in love with thee, and her great charms
- Misguide thy opposers' swords! Bold gentleman,
- Prosperity be thy page!
- MARCIUS. Thy friend no less
- Than those she placeth highest! So farewell.
- LARTIUS. Thou worthiest Marcius! Exit MARCIUS
- Go sound thy trumpet in the market-place;
- Call thither all the officers o' th' town,
- Where they shall know our mind. Away! Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE VI.
-Near the camp of COMINIUS
-
-Enter COMINIUS, as it were in retire, with soldiers
-
- COMINIUS. Breathe you, my friends. Well fought; we are come off
- Like Romans, neither foolish in our stands
- Nor cowardly in retire. Believe me, sirs,
- We shall be charg'd again. Whiles we have struck,
- By interims and conveying gusts we have heard
- The charges of our friends. The Roman gods,
- Lead their successes as we wish our own,
- That both our powers, with smiling fronts encount'ring,
- May give you thankful sacrifice!
-
- Enter A MESSENGER
-
- Thy news?
- MESSENGER. The citizens of Corioli have issued
- And given to Lartius and to Marcius battle;
- I saw our party to their trenches driven,
- And then I came away.
- COMINIUS. Though thou speak'st truth,
- Methinks thou speak'st not well. How long is't since?
- MESSENGER. Above an hour, my lord.
- COMINIUS. 'Tis not a mile; briefly we heard their drums.
- How couldst thou in a mile confound an hour,
- And bring thy news so late?
- MESSENGER. Spies of the Volsces
- Held me in chase, that I was forc'd to wheel
- Three or four miles about; else had I, sir,
- Half an hour since brought my report.
-
- Enter MARCIUS
-
- COMINIUS. Who's yonder
- That does appear as he were flay'd? O gods!
- He has the stamp of Marcius, and I have
- Before-time seen him thus.
- MARCIUS. Come I too late?
- COMINIUS. The shepherd knows not thunder from a tabor
- More than I know the sound of Marcius' tongue
- From every meaner man.
- MARCIUS. Come I too late?
- COMINIUS. Ay, if you come not in the blood of others,
- But mantled in your own.
- MARCIUS. O! let me clip ye
- In arms as sound as when I woo'd, in heart
- As merry as when our nuptial day was done,
- And tapers burn'd to bedward.
- COMINIUS. Flower of warriors,
- How is't with Titus Lartius?
- MARCIUS. As with a man busied about decrees:
- Condemning some to death and some to exile;
- Ransoming him or pitying, threat'ning th' other;
- Holding Corioli in the name of Rome
- Even like a fawning greyhound in the leash,
- To let him slip at will.
- COMINIUS. Where is that slave
- Which told me they had beat you to your trenches?
- Where is he? Call him hither.
- MARCIUS. Let him alone;
- He did inform the truth. But for our gentlemen,
- The common file- a plague! tribunes for them!
- The mouse ne'er shunn'd the cat as they did budge
- From rascals worse than they.
- COMINIUS. But how prevail'd you?
- MARCIUS. Will the time serve to tell? I do not think.
- Where is the enemy? Are you lords o' th' field?
- If not, why cease you till you are so?
- COMINIUS. Marcius,
- We have at disadvantage fought, and did
- Retire to win our purpose.
- MARCIUS. How lies their battle? Know you on which side
- They have plac'd their men of trust?
- COMINIUS. As I guess, Marcius,
- Their bands i' th' vaward are the Antiates,
- Of their best trust; o'er them Aufidius,
- Their very heart of hope.
- MARCIUS. I do beseech you,
- By all the battles wherein we have fought,
- By th' blood we have shed together, by th' vows
- We have made to endure friends, that you directly
- Set me against Aufidius and his Antiates;
- And that you not delay the present, but,
- Filling the air with swords advanc'd and darts,
- We prove this very hour.
- COMINIUS. Though I could wish
- You were conducted to a gentle bath
- And balms applied to you, yet dare I never
- Deny your asking: take your choice of those
- That best can aid your action.
- MARCIUS. Those are they
- That most are willing. If any such be here-
- As it were sin to doubt- that love this painting
- Wherein you see me smear'd; if any fear
- Lesser his person than an ill report;
- If any think brave death outweighs bad life
- And that his country's dearer than himself;
- Let him alone, or so many so minded,
- Wave thus to express his disposition,
- And follow Marcius. [They all shout and wave their
- swords, take him up in their arms and cast up their caps]
- O, me alone! Make you a sword of me?
- If these shows be not outward, which of you
- But is four Volsces? None of you but is
- Able to bear against the great Aufidius
- A shield as hard as his. A certain number,
- Though thanks to all, must I select from all; the rest
- Shall bear the business in some other fight,
- As cause will be obey'd. Please you to march;
- And four shall quickly draw out my command,
- Which men are best inclin'd.
- COMINIUS. March on, my fellows;
- Make good this ostentation, and you shall
- Divide in all with us. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE VII.
-The gates of Corioli
-
-TITUS LARTIUS, having set a guard upon Corioli, going with drum and trumpet
-toward COMINIUS and CAIUS MARCIUS, enters with a LIEUTENANT, other soldiers,
-and a scout
-
- LARTIUS. So, let the ports be guarded; keep your duties
- As I have set them down. If I do send, dispatch
- Those centuries to our aid; the rest will serve
- For a short holding. If we lose the field
- We cannot keep the town.
- LIEUTENANT. Fear not our care, sir.
- LARTIUS. Hence, and shut your gates upon's.
- Our guider, come; to th' Roman camp conduct us. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE VIII.
-A field of battle between the Roman and the Volscian camps
-
-Alarum, as in battle. Enter MARCIUS and AUFIDIUS at several doors
-
- MARCIUS. I'll fight with none but thee, for I do hate thee
- Worse than a promise-breaker.
- AUFIDIUS. We hate alike:
- Not Afric owns a serpent I abhor
- More than thy fame and envy. Fix thy foot.
- MARCIUS. Let the first budger die the other's slave,
- And the gods doom him after!
- AUFIDIUS. If I fly, Marcius,
- Halloa me like a hare.
- MARCIUS. Within these three hours, Tullus,
- Alone I fought in your Corioli walls,
- And made what work I pleas'd. 'Tis not my blood
- Wherein thou seest me mask'd. For thy revenge
- Wrench up thy power to th' highest.
- AUFIDIUS. Wert thou the Hector
- That was the whip of your bragg'd progeny,
- Thou shouldst not scape me here.
-
- Here they fight, and certain Volsces come in the aid
- of AUFIDIUS. MARCIUS fights till they be driven in
- breathless
-
- Officious, and not valiant, you have sham'd me
- In your condemned seconds. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE IX.
-The Roman camp
-
-Flourish. Alarum. A retreat is sounded. Enter, at one door,
-COMINIUS with the Romans; at another door, MARCIUS, with his arm in a scarf
-
- COMINIUS. If I should tell thee o'er this thy day's work,
- Thou't not believe thy deeds; but I'll report it
- Where senators shall mingle tears with smiles;
- Where great patricians shall attend, and shrug,
- I' th' end admire; where ladies shall be frighted
- And, gladly quak'd, hear more; where the dull tribunes,
- That with the fusty plebeians hate thine honours,
- Shall say against their hearts 'We thank the gods
- Our Rome hath such a soldier.'
- Yet cam'st thou to a morsel of this feast,
- Having fully din'd before.
-
- Enter TITUS LARTIUS, with his power, from the pursuit
-
- LARTIUS. O General,
- Here is the steed, we the caparison.
- Hadst thou beheld-
- MARCIUS. Pray now, no more; my mother,
- Who has a charter to extol her blood,
- When she does praise me grieves me. I have done
- As you have done- that's what I can; induc'd
- As you have been- that's for my country.
- He that has but effected his good will
- Hath overta'en mine act.
- COMINIUS. You shall not be
- The grave of your deserving; Rome must know
- The value of her own. 'Twere a concealment
- Worse than a theft, no less than a traducement,
- To hide your doings and to silence that
- Which, to the spire and top of praises vouch'd,
- Would seem but modest. Therefore, I beseech you,
- In sign of what you are, not to reward
- What you have done, before our army hear me.
- MARCIUS. I have some wounds upon me, and they smart
- To hear themselves rememb'red.
- COMINIUS. Should they not,
- Well might they fester 'gainst ingratitude
- And tent themselves with death. Of all the horses-
- Whereof we have ta'en good, and good store- of all
- The treasure in this field achiev'd and city,
- We render you the tenth; to be ta'en forth
- Before the common distribution at
- Your only choice.
- MARCIUS. I thank you, General,
- But cannot make my heart consent to take
- A bribe to pay my sword. I do refuse it,
- And stand upon my common part with those
- That have beheld the doing.
-
- A long flourish. They all cry 'Marcius, Marcius!'
- cast up their caps and lances. COMINIUS and LARTIUS stand bare
-
- May these same instruments which you profane
- Never sound more! When drums and trumpets shall
- I' th' field prove flatterers, let courts and cities be
- Made all of false-fac'd soothing. When steel grows
- Soft as the parasite's silk, let him be made
- An overture for th' wars. No more, I say.
- For that I have not wash'd my nose that bled,
- Or foil'd some debile wretch, which without note
- Here's many else have done, you shout me forth
- In acclamations hyperbolical,
- As if I lov'd my little should be dieted
- In praises sauc'd with lies.
- COMINIUS. Too modest are you;
- More cruel to your good report than grateful
- To us that give you truly. By your patience,
- If 'gainst yourself you be incens'd, we'll put you-
- Like one that means his proper harm- in manacles,
- Then reason safely with you. Therefore be it known,
- As to us, to all the world, that Caius Marcius
- Wears this war's garland; in token of the which,
- My noble steed, known to the camp, I give him,
- With all his trim belonging; and from this time,
- For what he did before Corioli, can him
- With all th' applause-and clamour of the host,
- Caius Marcius Coriolanus.
- Bear th' addition nobly ever!
- [Flourish. Trumpets sound, and drums]
- ALL. Caius Marcius Coriolanus!
- CORIOLANUS. I will go wash;
- And when my face is fair you shall perceive
- Whether I blush or no. Howbeit, I thank you;
- I mean to stride your steed, and at all times
- To undercrest your good addition
- To th' fairness of my power.
- COMINIUS. So, to our tent;
- Where, ere we do repose us, we will write
- To Rome of our success. You, Titus Lartius,
- Must to Corioli back. Send us to Rome
- The best, with whom we may articulate
- For their own good and ours.
- LARTIUS. I shall, my lord.
- CORIOLANUS. The gods begin to mock me. I, that now
- Refus'd most princely gifts, am bound to beg
- Of my Lord General.
- COMINIUS. Take't- 'tis yours; what is't?
- CORIOLANUS. I sometime lay here in Corioli
- At a poor man's house; he us'd me kindly.
- He cried to me; I saw him prisoner;
- But then Aufidius was within my view,
- And wrath o'erwhelm'd my pity. I request you
- To give my poor host freedom.
- COMINIUS. O, well begg'd!
- Were he the butcher of my son, he should
- Be free as is the wind. Deliver him, Titus.
- LARTIUS. Marcius, his name?
- CORIOLANUS. By Jupiter, forgot!
- I am weary; yea, my memory is tir'd.
- Have we no wine here?
- COMINIUS. Go we to our tent.
- The blood upon your visage dries; 'tis time
- It should be look'd to. Come. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE X.
-The camp of the Volsces
-
-A flourish. Cornets. Enter TULLUS AUFIDIUS bloody, with two or three soldiers
-
- AUFIDIUS. The town is ta'en.
- FIRST SOLDIER. 'Twill be deliver'd back on good condition.
- AUFIDIUS. Condition!
- I would I were a Roman; for I cannot,
- Being a Volsce, be that I am. Condition?
- What good condition can a treaty find
- I' th' part that is at mercy? Five times, Marcius,
- I have fought with thee; so often hast thou beat me;
- And wouldst do so, I think, should we encounter
- As often as we eat. By th' elements,
- If e'er again I meet him beard to beard,
- He's mine or I am his. Mine emulation
- Hath not that honour in't it had; for where
- I thought to crush him in an equal force,
- True sword to sword, I'll potch at him some way,
- Or wrath or craft may get him.
- FIRST SOLDIER. He's the devil.
- AUFIDIUS. Bolder, though not so subtle. My valour's poison'd
- With only suff'ring stain by him; for him
- Shall fly out of itself. Nor sleep nor sanctuary,
- Being naked, sick, nor fane nor Capitol,
- The prayers of priests nor times of sacrifice,
- Embarquements all of fury, shall lift up
- Their rotten privilege and custom 'gainst
- My hate to Marcius. Where I find him, were it
- At home, upon my brother's guard, even there,
- Against the hospitable canon, would I
- Wash my fierce hand in's heart. Go you to th' city;
- Learn how 'tis held, and what they are that must
- Be hostages for Rome.
- FIRST SOLDIER. Will not you go?
- AUFIDIUS. I am attended at the cypress grove; I pray you-
- 'Tis south the city mills- bring me word thither
- How the world goes, that to the pace of it
- I may spur on my journey.
- FIRST SOLDIER. I shall, sir. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT II. SCENE I.
-Rome. A public place
-
-Enter MENENIUS, with the two Tribunes of the people, SICINIUS and BRUTUS
-
- MENENIUS. The augurer tells me we shall have news tonight.
- BRUTUS. Good or bad?
- MENENIUS. Not according to the prayer of the people, for they love
- not Marcius.
- SICINIUS. Nature teaches beasts to know their friends.
- MENENIUS. Pray you, who does the wolf love?
- SICINIUS. The lamb.
- MENENIUS. Ay, to devour him, as the hungry plebeians would the
- noble Marcius.
- BRUTUS. He's a lamb indeed, that baes like a bear.
- MENENIUS. He's a bear indeed, that lives fike a lamb. You two are
- old men; tell me one thing that I shall ask you.
- BOTH TRIBUNES. Well, sir.
- MENENIUS. In what enormity is Marcius poor in that you two have not
- in abundance?
- BRUTUS. He's poor in no one fault, but stor'd with all.
- SICINIUS. Especially in pride.
- BRUTUS. And topping all others in boasting.
- MENENIUS. This is strange now. Do you two know how you are censured
- here in the city- I mean of us o' th' right-hand file? Do you?
- BOTH TRIBUNES. Why, how are we censur'd?
- MENENIUS. Because you talk of pride now- will you not be angry?
- BOTH TRIBUNES. Well, well, sir, well.
- MENENIUS. Why, 'tis no great matter; for a very little thief of
- occasion will rob you of a great deal of patience. Give your
- dispositions the reins, and be angry at your pleasures- at the
- least, if you take it as a pleasure to you in being so. You blame
- Marcius for being proud?
- BRUTUS. We do it not alone, sir.
- MENENIUS. I know you can do very little alone; for your helps are
- many, or else your actions would grow wondrous single: your
- abilities are too infant-like for doing much alone. You talk of
- pride. O that you could turn your eyes toward the napes of your
- necks, and make but an interior survey of your good selves! O
- that you could!
- BOTH TRIBUNES. What then, sir?
- MENENIUS. Why, then you should discover a brace of unmeriting,
- proud, violent, testy magistrates-alias fools- as any in Rome.
- SICINIUS. Menenius, you are known well enough too.
- MENENIUS. I am known to be a humorous patrician, and one that loves
- a cup of hot wine with not a drop of allaying Tiber in't; said to
- be something imperfect in favouring the first complaint, hasty
- and tinder-like upon too trivial motion; one that converses more
- with the buttock of the night than with the forehead of the
- morning. What I think I utter, and spend my malice in my breath.
- Meeting two such wealsmen as you are- I cannot call you
- Lycurguses- if the drink you give me touch my palate adversely, I
- make a crooked face at it. I cannot say your worships have
- deliver'd the matter well, when I find the ass in compound with
- the major part of your syllables; and though I must be content to
- bear with those that say you are reverend grave men, yet they lie
- deadly that tell you you have good faces. If you see this in the
- map of my microcosm, follows it that I am known well enough too?
- What harm can your bisson conspectuities glean out of this
- character, if I be known well enough too?
- BRUTUS. Come, sir, come, we know you well enough.
- MENENIUS. You know neither me, yourselves, nor any thing. You are
- ambitious for poor knaves' caps and legs; you wear out a good
- wholesome forenoon in hearing a cause between an orange-wife and
- a fosset-seller, and then rejourn the controversy of threepence
- to a second day of audience. When you are hearing a matter
- between party and party, if you chance to be pinch'd with the
- colic, you make faces like mummers, set up the bloody flag
- against all patience, and, in roaring for a chamber-pot, dismiss
- the controversy bleeding, the more entangled by your hearing. All
- the peace you make in their cause is calling both the parties
- knaves. You are a pair of strange ones.
- BRUTUS. Come, come, you are well understood to be a perfecter giber
- for the table than a necessary bencher in the Capitol.
- MENENIUS. Our very priests must become mockers, if they shall
- encounter such ridiculous subjects as you are. When you speak
- best unto the purpose, it is not worth the wagging of your
- beards; and your beards deserve not so honourable a grave as to
- stuff a botcher's cushion or to be entomb'd in an ass's
- pack-saddle. Yet you must be saying Marcius is proud; who, in a
- cheap estimation, is worth all your predecessors since Deucalion;
- though peradventure some of the best of 'em were hereditary
- hangmen. God-den to your worships. More of your conversation
- would infect my brain, being the herdsmen of the beastly
- plebeians. I will be bold to take my leave of you.
- [BRUTUS and SICINIUS go aside]
-
- Enter VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, and VALERIA
-
- How now, my as fair as noble ladies- and the moon, were she
- earthly, no nobler- whither do you follow your eyes so fast?
- VOLUMNIA. Honourable Menenius, my boy Marcius approaches; for the
- love of Juno, let's go.
- MENENIUS. Ha! Marcius coming home?
- VOLUMNIA. Ay, worthy Menenius, and with most prosperous
- approbation.
- MENENIUS. Take my cap, Jupiter, and I thank thee. Hoo!
- Marcius coming home!
- VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA. Nay, 'tis true.
- VOLUMNIA. Look, here's a letter from him; the state hath another,
- his wife another; and I think there's one at home for you.
- MENENIUS. I will make my very house reel to-night. A letter for me?
- VIRGILIA. Yes, certain, there's a letter for you; I saw't.
- MENENIUS. A letter for me! It gives me an estate of seven years'
- health; in which time I will make a lip at the physician. The
- most sovereign prescription in Galen is but empiricutic and, to
- this preservative, of no better report than a horse-drench. Is he
- not wounded? He was wont to come home wounded.
- VIRGILIA. O, no, no, no.
- VOLUMNIA. O, he is wounded, I thank the gods for't.
- MENENIUS. So do I too, if it be not too much. Brings a victory in
- his pocket? The wounds become him.
- VOLUMNIA. On's brows, Menenius, he comes the third time home with
- the oaken garland.
- MENENIUS. Has he disciplin'd Aufidius soundly?
- VOLUMNIA. Titus Lartius writes they fought together, but Aufidius
- got off.
- MENENIUS. And 'twas time for him too, I'll warrant him that; an he
- had stay'd by him, I would not have been so fidius'd for all the
- chests in Corioli and the gold that's in them. Is the Senate
- possess'd of this?
- VOLUMNIA. Good ladies, let's go. Yes, yes, yes: the Senate has
- letters from the general, wherein he gives my son the whole name
- of the war; he hath in this action outdone his former deeds
- doubly.
- VALERIA. In troth, there's wondrous things spoke of him.
- MENENIUS. Wondrous! Ay, I warrant you, and not without his true
- purchasing.
- VIRGILIA. The gods grant them true!
- VOLUMNIA. True! pow, waw.
- MENENIUS. True! I'll be sworn they are true. Where is he wounded?
- [To the TRIBUNES] God save your good worships! Marcius is coming
- home; he has more cause to be proud. Where is he wounded?
- VOLUMNIA. I' th' shoulder and i' th' left arm; there will be large
- cicatrices to show the people when he shall stand for his place.
- He received in the repulse of Tarquin seven hurts i' th' body.
- MENENIUS. One i' th' neck and two i' th' thigh- there's nine that I
- know.
- VOLUMNIA. He had before this last expedition twenty-five wounds
- upon him.
- MENENIUS. Now it's twenty-seven; every gash was an enemy's grave.
- [A shout and flourish] Hark! the trumpets.
- VOLUMNIA. These are the ushers of Marcius. Before him he carries
- noise, and behind him he leaves tears;
- Death, that dark spirit, in's nervy arm doth lie,
- Which, being advanc'd, declines, and then men die.
-
- A sennet. Trumpets sound. Enter COMINIUS the
- GENERAL, and TITUS LARTIUS; between them,
- CORIOLANUS, crown'd with an oaken garland; with
- CAPTAINS and soldiers and a HERALD
-
- HERALD. Know, Rome, that all alone Marcius did fight
- Within Corioli gates, where he hath won,
- With fame, a name to Caius Marcius; these
- In honour follows Coriolanus.
- Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus! [Flourish]
- ALL. Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus!
- CORIOLANUS. No more of this, it does offend my heart.
- Pray now, no more.
- COMINIUS. Look, sir, your mother!
- CORIOLANUS. O,
- You have, I know, petition'd all the gods
- For my prosperity! [Kneels]
- VOLUMNIA. Nay, my good soldier, up;
- My gentle Marcius, worthy Caius, and
- By deed-achieving honour newly nam'd-
- What is it? Coriolanus must I can thee?
- But, O, thy wife!
- CORIOLANUS. My gracious silence, hail!
- Wouldst thou have laugh'd had I come coffin'd home,
- That weep'st to see me triumph? Ah, my dear,
- Such eyes the widows in Corioli wear,
- And mothers that lack sons.
- MENENIUS. Now the gods crown thee!
- CORIOLANUS. And live you yet? [To VALERIA] O my sweet lady,
- pardon.
- VOLUMNIA. I know not where to turn.
- O, welcome home! And welcome, General.
- And y'are welcome all.
- MENENIUS. A hundred thousand welcomes. I could weep
- And I could laugh; I am light and heavy. Welcome!
- A curse begin at very root on's heart
- That is not glad to see thee! You are three
- That Rome should dote on; yet, by the faith of men,
- We have some old crab trees here at home that will not
- Be grafted to your relish. Yet welcome, warriors.
- We call a nettle but a nettle, and
- The faults of fools but folly.
- COMINIUS. Ever right.
- CORIOLANUS. Menenius ever, ever.
- HERALD. Give way there, and go on.
- CORIOLANUS. [To his wife and mother] Your hand, and yours.
- Ere in our own house I do shade my head,
- The good patricians must be visited;
- From whom I have receiv'd not only greetings,
- But with them change of honours.
- VOLUMNIA. I have lived
- To see inherited my very wishes,
- And the buildings of my fancy; only
- There's one thing wanting, which I doubt not but
- Our Rome will cast upon thee.
- CORIOLANUS. Know, good mother,
- I had rather be their servant in my way
- Than sway with them in theirs.
- COMINIUS. On, to the Capitol.
- [Flourish. Cornets. Exeunt in state, as before]
-
- BRUTUS and SICINIUS come forward
-
- BRUTUS. All tongues speak of him and the bleared sights
- Are spectacled to see him. Your prattling nurse
- Into a rapture lets her baby cry
- While she chats him; the kitchen malkin pins
- Her richest lockram 'bout her reechy neck,
- Clamb'ring the walls to eye him; stalls, bulks, windows,
- Are smother'd up, leads fill'd and ridges hors'd
- With variable complexions, all agreeing
- In earnestness to see him. Seld-shown flamens
- Do press among the popular throngs and puff
- To win a vulgar station; our veil'd dames
- Commit the war of white and damask in
- Their nicely gawded cheeks to th' wanton spoil
- Of Phoebus' burning kisses. Such a pother,
- As if that whatsoever god who leads him
- Were slily crept into his human powers,
- And gave him graceful posture.
- SICINIUS. On the sudden
- I warrant him consul.
- BRUTUS. Then our office may
- During his power go sleep.
- SICINIUS. He cannot temp'rately transport his honours
- From where he should begin and end, but will
- Lose those he hath won.
- BRUTUS. In that there's comfort.
- SICINIUS. Doubt not
- The commoners, for whom we stand, but they
- Upon their ancient malice will forget
- With the least cause these his new honours; which
- That he will give them make I as little question
- As he is proud to do't.
- BRUTUS. I heard him swear,
- Were he to stand for consul, never would he
- Appear i' th' market-place, nor on him put
- The napless vesture of humility;
- Nor, showing, as the manner is, his wounds
- To th' people, beg their stinking breaths.
- SICINIUS. 'Tis right.
- BRUTUS. It was his word. O, he would miss it rather
- Than carry it but by the suit of the gentry to him
- And the desire of the nobles.
- SICINIUS. I wish no better
- Than have him hold that purpose, and to put it
- In execution.
- BRUTUS. 'Tis most like he will.
- SICINIUS. It shall be to him then as our good wills:
- A sure destruction.
- BRUTUS. So it must fall out
- To him or our authorities. For an end,
- We must suggest the people in what hatred
- He still hath held them; that to's power he would
- Have made them mules, silenc'd their pleaders, and
- Dispropertied their freedoms; holding them
- In human action and capacity
- Of no more soul nor fitness for the world
- Than camels in their war, who have their provand
- Only for bearing burdens, and sore blows
- For sinking under them.
- SICINIUS. This, as you say, suggested
- At some time when his soaring insolence
- Shall touch the people- which time shall not want,
- If he be put upon't, and that's as easy
- As to set dogs on sheep- will be his fire
- To kindle their dry stubble; and their blaze
- Shall darken him for ever.
-
- Enter A MESSENGER
-
- BRUTUS. What's the matter?
- MESSENGER. You are sent for to the Capitol. 'Tis thought
- That Marcius shall be consul.
- I have seen the dumb men throng to see him and
- The blind to hear him speak; matrons flung gloves,
- Ladies and maids their scarfs and handkerchers,
- Upon him as he pass'd; the nobles bended
- As to Jove's statue, and the commons made
- A shower and thunder with their caps and shouts.
- I never saw the like.
- BRUTUS. Let's to the Capitol,
- And carry with us ears and eyes for th' time,
- But hearts for the event.
- SICINIUS. Have with you. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-Rome. The Capitol
-
-Enter two OFFICERS, to lay cushions, as it were in the Capitol
-
- FIRST OFFICER. Come, come, they are almost here. How many stand for
- consulships?
- SECOND OFFICER. Three, they say; but 'tis thought of every one
- Coriolanus will carry it.
- FIRST OFFICER. That's a brave fellow; but he's vengeance proud and
- loves not the common people.
- SECOND OFFICER. Faith, there have been many great men that have
- flatter'd the people, who ne'er loved them; and there be many
- that they have loved, they know not wherefore; so that, if they
- love they know not why, they hate upon no better a ground.
- Therefore, for Coriolanus neither to care whether they love or
- hate him manifests the true knowledge he has in their
- disposition, and out of his noble carelessness lets them plainly
- see't.
- FIRST OFFICER. If he did not care whether he had their love or no,
- he waved indifferently 'twixt doing them neither good nor harm;
- but he seeks their hate with greater devotion than they can
- render it him, and leaves nothing undone that may fully discover
- him their opposite. Now to seem to affect the malice and
- displeasure of the people is as bad as that which he dislikes- to
- flatter them for their love.
- SECOND OFFICER. He hath deserved worthily of his country; and his
- ascent is not by such easy degrees as those who, having been
- supple and courteous to the people, bonneted, without any further
- deed to have them at all, into their estimation and report; but
- he hath so planted his honours in their eyes and his actions in
- their hearts that for their tongues to be silent and not confess
- so much were a kind of ingrateful injury; to report otherwise
- were a malice that, giving itself the lie, would pluck reproof
- and rebuke from every car that heard it.
- FIRST OFFICER. No more of him; he's a worthy man. Make way, they
- are coming.
-
- A sennet. Enter the PATRICIANS and the TRIBUNES
- OF THE PEOPLE, LICTORS before them; CORIOLANUS,
- MENENIUS, COMINIUS the Consul. SICINIUS and
- BRUTUS take their places by themselves.
- CORIOLANUS stands
-
- MENENIUS. Having determin'd of the Volsces, and
- To send for Titus Lartius, it remains,
- As the main point of this our after-meeting,
- To gratify his noble service that
- Hath thus stood for his country. Therefore please you,
- Most reverend and grave elders, to desire
- The present consul and last general
- In our well-found successes to report
- A little of that worthy work perform'd
- By Caius Marcius Coriolanus; whom
- We met here both to thank and to remember
- With honours like himself. [CORIOLANUS sits]
- FIRST SENATOR. Speak, good Cominius.
- Leave nothing out for length, and make us think
- Rather our state's defective for requital
- Than we to stretch it out. Masters o' th' people,
- We do request your kindest ears; and, after,
- Your loving motion toward the common body,
- To yield what passes here.
- SICINIUS. We are convented
- Upon a pleasing treaty, and have hearts
- Inclinable to honour and advance
- The theme of our assembly.
- BRUTUS. Which the rather
- We shall be bless'd to do, if he remember
- A kinder value of the people than
- He hath hereto priz'd them at.
- MENENIUS. That's off, that's off;
- I would you rather had been silent. Please you
- To hear Cominius speak?
- BRUTUS. Most willingly.
- But yet my caution was more pertinent
- Than the rebuke you give it.
- MENENIUS. He loves your people;
- But tie him not to be their bedfellow.
- Worthy Cominius, speak.
- [CORIOLANUS rises, and offers to go away]
- Nay, keep your place.
- FIRST SENATOR. Sit, Coriolanus, never shame to hear
- What you have nobly done.
- CORIOLANUS. Your Honours' pardon.
- I had rather have my wounds to heal again
- Than hear say how I got them.
- BRUTUS. Sir, I hope
- My words disbench'd you not.
- CORIOLANUS. No, sir; yet oft,
- When blows have made me stay, I fled from words.
- You sooth'd not, therefore hurt not. But your people,
- I love them as they weigh-
- MENENIUS. Pray now, sit down.
- CORIOLANUS. I had rather have one scratch my head i' th' sun
- When the alarum were struck than idly sit
- To hear my nothings monster'd. Exit
- MENENIUS. Masters of the people,
- Your multiplying spawn how can he flatter-
- That's thousand to one good one- when you now see
- He had rather venture all his limbs for honour
- Than one on's ears to hear it? Proceed, Cominius.
- COMINIUS. I shall lack voice; the deeds of Coriolanus
- Should not be utter'd feebly. It is held
- That valour is the chiefest virtue and
- Most dignifies the haver. If it be,
- The man I speak of cannot in the world
- Be singly counterpois'd. At sixteen years,
- When Tarquin made a head for Rome, he fought
- Beyond the mark of others; our then Dictator,
- Whom with all praise I point at, saw him fight
- When with his Amazonian chin he drove
- The bristled lips before him; he bestrid
- An o'erpress'd Roman and i' th' consul's view
- Slew three opposers; Tarquin's self he met,
- And struck him on his knee. In that day's feats,
- When he might act the woman in the scene,
- He prov'd best man i' th' field, and for his meed
- Was brow-bound with the oak. His pupil age
- Man-ent'red thus, he waxed like a sea,
- And in the brunt of seventeen battles since
- He lurch'd all swords of the garland. For this last,
- Before and in Corioli, let me say
- I cannot speak him home. He stopp'd the fliers,
- And by his rare example made the coward
- Turn terror into sport; as weeds before
- A vessel under sail, so men obey'd
- And fell below his stem. His sword, death's stamp,
- Where it did mark, it took; from face to foot
- He was a thing of blood, whose every motion
- Was tim'd with dying cries. Alone he ent'red
- The mortal gate of th' city, which he painted
- With shunless destiny; aidless came off,
- And with a sudden re-enforcement struck
- Corioli like a planet. Now all's his.
- When by and by the din of war 'gan pierce
- His ready sense, then straight his doubled spirit
- Re-quick'ned what in flesh was fatigate,
- And to the battle came he; where he did
- Run reeking o'er the lives of men, as if
- 'Twere a perpetual spoil; and till we call'd
- Both field and city ours he never stood
- To ease his breast with panting.
- MENENIUS. Worthy man!
- FIRST SENATOR. He cannot but with measure fit the honours
- Which we devise him.
- COMINIUS. Our spoils he kick'd at,
- And look'd upon things precious as they were
- The common muck of the world. He covets less
- Than misery itself would give, rewards
- His deeds with doing them, and is content
- To spend the time to end it.
- MENENIUS. He's right noble;
- Let him be call'd for.
- FIRST SENATOR. Call Coriolanus.
- OFFICER. He doth appear.
-
- Re-enter CORIOLANUS
-
- MENENIUS. The Senate, Coriolanus, are well pleas'd
- To make thee consul.
- CORIOLANUS. I do owe them still
- My life and services.
- MENENIUS. It then remains
- That you do speak to the people.
- CORIOLANUS. I do beseech you
- Let me o'erleap that custom; for I cannot
- Put on the gown, stand naked, and entreat them
- For my wounds' sake to give their suffrage. Please you
- That I may pass this doing.
- SICINIUS. Sir, the people
- Must have their voices; neither will they bate
- One jot of ceremony.
- MENENIUS. Put them not to't.
- Pray you go fit you to the custom, and
- Take to you, as your predecessors have,
- Your honour with your form.
- CORIOLANUS. It is a part
- That I shall blush in acting, and might well
- Be taken from the people.
- BRUTUS. Mark you that?
- CORIOLANUS. To brag unto them 'Thus I did, and thus!'
- Show them th' unaching scars which I should hide,
- As if I had receiv'd them for the hire
- Of their breath only!
- MENENIUS. Do not stand upon't.
- We recommend to you, Tribunes of the People,
- Our purpose to them; and to our noble consul
- Wish we all joy and honour.
- SENATORS. To Coriolanus come all joy and honour!
- [Flourish. Cornets. Then exeunt all
- but SICINIUS and BRUTUS]
- BRUTUS. You see how he intends to use the people.
- SICINIUS. May they perceive's intent! He will require them
- As if he did contemn what he requested
- Should be in them to give.
- BRUTUS. Come, we'll inform them
- Of our proceedings here. On th' market-place
- I know they do attend us. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-Rome. The Forum
-
-Enter seven or eight citizens
-
- FIRST CITIZEN. Once, if he do require our voices, we ought not to
- deny him.
- SECOND CITIZEN. We may, sir, if we will.
- THIRD CITIZEN. We have power in ourselves to do it, but it is a
- power that we have no power to do; for if he show us his wounds
- and tell us his deeds, we are to put our tongues into those
- wounds and speak for them; so, if he tell us his noble deeds, we
- must also tell him our noble acceptance of them. Ingratitude is
- monstrous, and for the multitude to be ingrateful were to make a
- monster of the multitude; of the which we being members should
- bring ourselves to be monstrous members.
- FIRST CITIZEN. And to make us no better thought of, a little help
- will serve; for once we stood up about the corn, he himself stuck
- not to call us the many-headed multitude.
- THIRD CITIZEN. We have been call'd so of many; not that our heads
- are some brown, some black, some abram, some bald, but that our
- wits are so diversely colour'd; and truly I think if all our wits
- were to issue out of one skull, they would fly east, west, north,
- south, and their consent of one direct way should be at once to
- all the points o' th' compass.
- SECOND CITIZEN. Think you so? Which way do you judge my wit would
- fly?
- THIRD CITIZEN. Nay, your wit will not so soon out as another man's
- will- 'tis strongly wedg'd up in a block-head; but if it were at
- liberty 'twould sure southward.
- SECOND CITIZEN. Why that way?
- THIRD CITIZEN. To lose itself in a fog; where being three parts
- melted away with rotten dews, the fourth would return for
- conscience' sake, to help to get thee a wife.
- SECOND CITIZEN. YOU are never without your tricks; you may, you
- may.
- THIRD CITIZEN. Are you all resolv'd to give your voices? But that's
- no matter, the greater part carries it. I say, if he would
- incline to the people, there was never a worthier man.
-
- Enter CORIOLANUS, in a gown of humility,
- with MENENIUS
-
- Here he comes, and in the gown of humility. Mark his behaviour.
- We are not to stay all together, but to come by him where he
- stands, by ones, by twos, and by threes. He's to make his
- requests by particulars, wherein every one of us has a single
- honour, in giving him our own voices with our own tongues;
- therefore follow me, and I'll direct you how you shall go by him.
- ALL. Content, content. Exeunt citizens
- MENENIUS. O sir, you are not right; have you not known
- The worthiest men have done't?
- CORIOLANUS. What must I say?
- 'I pray, sir'- Plague upon't! I cannot bring
- My tongue to such a pace. 'Look, sir, my wounds
- I got them in my country's service, when
- Some certain of your brethren roar'd and ran
- From th' noise of our own drums.'
- MENENIUS. O me, the gods!
- You must not speak of that. You must desire them
- To think upon you.
- CORIOLANUS. Think upon me? Hang 'em!
- I would they would forget me, like the virtues
- Which our divines lose by 'em.
- MENENIUS. You'll mar all.
- I'll leave you. Pray you speak to 'em, I pray you,
- In wholesome manner. Exit
-
- Re-enter three of the citizens
-
- CORIOLANUS. Bid them wash their faces
- And keep their teeth clean. So, here comes a brace.
- You know the cause, sir, of my standing here.
- THIRD CITIZEN. We do, sir; tell us what hath brought you to't.
- CORIOLANUS. Mine own desert.
- SECOND CITIZEN. Your own desert?
- CORIOLANUS. Ay, not mine own desire.
- THIRD CITIZEN. How, not your own desire?
- CORIOLANUS. No, sir, 'twas never my desire yet to trouble the poor
- with begging.
- THIRD CITIZEN. YOU MUST think, if we give you anything, we hope to
- gain by you.
- CORIOLANUS. Well then, I pray, your price o' th' consulship?
- FIRST CITIZEN. The price is to ask it kindly.
- CORIOLANUS. Kindly, sir, I pray let me ha't. I have wounds to show
- you, which shall be yours in private. Your good voice, sir; what
- say you?
- SECOND CITIZEN. You shall ha' it, worthy sir.
- CORIOLANUS. A match, sir. There's in all two worthy voices begg'd.
- I have your alms. Adieu.
- THIRD CITIZEN. But this is something odd.
- SECOND CITIZEN. An 'twere to give again- but 'tis no matter.
- Exeunt the three citizens
-
- Re-enter two other citizens
-
- CORIOLANUS. Pray you now, if it may stand with the tune of your
- voices that I may be consul, I have here the customary gown.
- FOURTH CITIZEN. You have deserved nobly of your country, and you
- have not deserved nobly.
- CORIOLANUS. Your enigma?
- FOURTH CITIZEN. You have been a scourge to her enemies; you have
- been a rod to her friends. You have not indeed loved the common
- people.
- CORIOLANUS. You should account me the more virtuous, that I have
- not been common in my love. I will, sir, flatter my sworn
- brother, the people, to earn a dearer estimation of them; 'tis a
- condition they account gentle; and since the wisdom of their
- choice is rather to have my hat than my heart, I will practise
- the insinuating nod and be off to them most counterfeitly. That
- is, sir, I will counterfeit the bewitchment of some popular man
- and give it bountiful to the desirers. Therefore, beseech you I
- may be consul.
- FIFTH CITIZEN. We hope to find you our friend; and therefore give
- you our voices heartily.
- FOURTH CITIZEN. You have received many wounds for your country.
- CORIOLANUS. I will not seal your knowledge with showing them. I
- will make much of your voices, and so trouble you no farther.
- BOTH CITIZENS. The gods give you joy, sir, heartily!
- Exeunt citizens
- CORIOLANUS. Most sweet voices!
- Better it is to die, better to starve,
- Than crave the hire which first we do deserve.
- Why in this wolvish toge should I stand here
- To beg of Hob and Dick that do appear
- Their needless vouches? Custom calls me to't.
- What custom wills, in all things should we do't,
- The dust on antique time would lie unswept,
- And mountainous error be too highly heap'd
- For truth to o'erpeer. Rather than fool it so,
- Let the high office and the honour go
- To one that would do thus. I am half through:
- The one part suffered, the other will I do.
-
- Re-enter three citizens more
-
- Here come moe voices.
- Your voices. For your voices I have fought;
- Watch'd for your voices; for your voices bear
- Of wounds two dozen odd; battles thrice six
- I have seen and heard of; for your voices have
- Done many things, some less, some more. Your voices?
- Indeed, I would be consul.
- SIXTH CITIZEN. He has done nobly, and cannot go without any honest
- man's voice.
- SEVENTH CITIZEN. Therefore let him be consul. The gods give him
- joy, and make him good friend to the people!
- ALL. Amen, amen. God save thee, noble consul!
- Exeunt citizens
- CORIOLANUS. Worthy voices!
-
- Re-enter MENENIUS with BRUTUS and SICINIUS
-
- MENENIUS. You have stood your limitation, and the tribunes
- Endue you with the people's voice. Remains
- That, in th' official marks invested, you
- Anon do meet the Senate.
- CORIOLANUS. Is this done?
- SICINIUS. The custom of request you have discharg'd.
- The people do admit you, and are summon'd
- To meet anon, upon your approbation.
- CORIOLANUS. Where? At the Senate House?
- SICINIUS. There, Coriolanus.
- CORIOLANUS. May I change these garments?
- SICINIUS. You may, sir.
- CORIOLANUS. That I'll straight do, and, knowing myself again,
- Repair to th' Senate House.
- MENENIUS. I'll keep you company. Will you along?
- BRUTUS. We stay here for the people.
- SICINIUS. Fare you well.
- Exeunt CORIOLANUS and MENENIUS
- He has it now; and by his looks methinks
- 'Tis warm at's heart.
- BRUTUS. With a proud heart he wore
- His humble weeds. Will you dismiss the people?
-
- Re-enter citizens
-
- SICINIUS. How now, my masters! Have you chose this man?
- FIRST CITIZEN. He has our voices, sir.
- BRUTUS. We pray the gods he may deserve your loves.
- SECOND CITIZEN. Amen, sir. To my poor unworthy notice,
- He mock'd us when he begg'd our voices.
- THIRD CITIZEN. Certainly;
- He flouted us downright.
- FIRST CITIZEN. No, 'tis his kind of speech- he did not mock us.
- SECOND CITIZEN. Not one amongst us, save yourself, but says
- He us'd us scornfully. He should have show'd us
- His marks of merit, wounds receiv'd for's country.
- SICINIUS. Why, so he did, I am sure.
- ALL. No, no; no man saw 'em.
- THIRD CITIZEN. He said he had wounds which he could show in
- private,
- And with his hat, thus waving it in scorn,
- 'I would be consul,' says he; 'aged custom
- But by your voices will not so permit me;
- Your voices therefore.' When we granted that,
- Here was 'I thank you for your voices. Thank you,
- Your most sweet voices. Now you have left your voices,
- I have no further with you.' Was not this mockery?
- SICINIUS. Why either were you ignorant to see't,
- Or, seeing it, of such childish friendliness
- To yield your voices?
- BRUTUS. Could you not have told him-
- As you were lesson'd- when he had no power
- But was a petty servant to the state,
- He was your enemy; ever spake against
- Your liberties and the charters that you bear
- I' th' body of the weal; and now, arriving
- A place of potency and sway o' th' state,
- If he should still malignantly remain
- Fast foe to th' plebeii, your voices might
- Be curses to yourselves? You should have said
- That as his worthy deeds did claim no less
- Than what he stood for, so his gracious nature
- Would think upon you for your voices, and
- Translate his malice towards you into love,
- Standing your friendly lord.
- SICINIUS. Thus to have said,
- As you were fore-advis'd, had touch'd his spirit
- And tried his inclination; from him pluck'd
- Either his gracious promise, which you might,
- As cause had call'd you up, have held him to;
- Or else it would have gall'd his surly nature,
- Which easily endures not article
- Tying him to aught. So, putting him to rage,
- You should have ta'en th' advantage of his choler
- And pass'd him unelected.
- BRUTUS. Did you perceive
- He did solicit you in free contempt
- When he did need your loves; and do you think
- That his contempt shall not be bruising to you
- When he hath power to crush? Why, had your bodies
- No heart among you? Or had you tongues to cry
- Against the rectorship of judgment?
- SICINIUS. Have you
- Ere now denied the asker, and now again,
- Of him that did not ask but mock, bestow
- Your su'd-for tongues?
- THIRD CITIZEN. He's not confirm'd: we may deny him yet.
- SECOND CITIZENS. And will deny him;
- I'll have five hundred voices of that sound.
- FIRST CITIZEN. I twice five hundred, and their friends to piece
- 'em.
- BRUTUS. Get you hence instantly, and tell those friends
- They have chose a consul that will from them take
- Their liberties, make them of no more voice
- Than dogs, that are as often beat for barking
- As therefore kept to do so.
- SICINIUS. Let them assemble;
- And, on a safer judgment, all revoke
- Your ignorant election. Enforce his pride
- And his old hate unto you; besides, forget not
- With what contempt he wore the humble weed;
- How in his suit he scorn'd you; but your loves,
- Thinking upon his services, took from you
- Th' apprehension of his present portance,
- Which, most gibingly, ungravely, he did fashion
- After the inveterate hate he bears you.
- BRUTUS. Lay
- A fault on us, your tribunes, that we labour'd,
- No impediment between, but that you must
- Cast your election on him.
- SICINIUS. Say you chose him
- More after our commandment than as guided
- By your own true affections; and that your minds,
- Pre-occupied with what you rather must do
- Than what you should, made you against the grain
- To voice him consul. Lay the fault on us.
- BRUTUS. Ay, spare us not. Say we read lectures to you,
- How youngly he began to serve his country,
- How long continued; and what stock he springs of-
- The noble house o' th' Marcians; from whence came
- That Ancus Marcius, Numa's daughter's son,
- Who, after great Hostilius, here was king;
- Of the same house Publius and Quintus were,
- That our best water brought by conduits hither;
- And Censorinus, nobly named so,
- Twice being by the people chosen censor,
- Was his great ancestor.
- SICINIUS. One thus descended,
- That hath beside well in his person wrought
- To be set high in place, we did commend
- To your remembrances; but you have found,
- Scaling his present bearing with his past,
- That he's your fixed enemy, and revoke
- Your sudden approbation.
- BRUTUS. Say you ne'er had done't-
- Harp on that still- but by our putting on;
- And presently, when you have drawn your number,
- Repair to th' Capitol.
- CITIZENS. will will so; almost all
- Repent in their election. Exeunt plebeians
- BRUTUS. Let them go on;
- This mutiny were better put in hazard
- Than stay, past doubt, for greater.
- If, as his nature is, he fall in rage
- With their refusal, both observe and answer
- The vantage of his anger.
- SICINIUS. To th' Capitol, come.
- We will be there before the stream o' th' people;
- And this shall seem, as partly 'tis, their own,
- Which we have goaded onward. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-ACT III. SCENE I.
-Rome. A street
-
-Cornets. Enter CORIOLANUS, MENENIUS, all the GENTRY, COMINIUS,
-TITUS LARTIUS, and other SENATORS
-
- CORIOLANUS. Tullus Aufidius, then, had made new head?
- LARTIUS. He had, my lord; and that it was which caus'd
- Our swifter composition.
- CORIOLANUS. So then the Volsces stand but as at first,
- Ready, when time shall prompt them, to make road
- Upon's again.
- COMINIUS. They are worn, Lord Consul, so
- That we shall hardly in our ages see
- Their banners wave again.
- CORIOLANUS. Saw you Aufidius?
- LARTIUS. On safeguard he came to me, and did curse
- Against the Volsces, for they had so vilely
- Yielded the town. He is retir'd to Antium.
- CORIOLANUS. Spoke he of me?
- LARTIUS. He did, my lord.
- CORIOLANUS. How? What?
- LARTIUS. How often he had met you, sword to sword;
- That of all things upon the earth he hated
- Your person most; that he would pawn his fortunes
- To hopeless restitution, so he might
- Be call'd your vanquisher.
- CORIOLANUS. At Antium lives he?
- LARTIUS. At Antium.
- CORIOLANUS. I wish I had a cause to seek him there,
- To oppose his hatred fully. Welcome home.
-
- Enter SICINIUS and BRUTUS
-
- Behold, these are the tribunes of the people,
- The tongues o' th' common mouth. I do despise them,
- For they do prank them in authority,
- Against all noble sufferance.
- SICINIUS. Pass no further.
- CORIOLANUS. Ha! What is that?
- BRUTUS. It will be dangerous to go on- no further.
- CORIOLANUS. What makes this change?
- MENENIUS. The matter?
- COMINIUS. Hath he not pass'd the noble and the common?
- BRUTUS. Cominius, no.
- CORIOLANUS. Have I had children's voices?
- FIRST SENATOR. Tribunes, give way: he shall to th' market-place.
- BRUTUS. The people are incens'd against him.
- SICINIUS. Stop,
- Or all will fall in broil.
- CORIOLANUS. Are these your herd?
- Must these have voices, that can yield them now
- And straight disclaim their tongues? What are your offices?
- You being their mouths, why rule you not their teeth?
- Have you not set them on?
- MENENIUS. Be calm, be calm.
- CORIOLANUS. It is a purpos'd thing, and grows by plot,
- To curb the will of the nobility;
- Suffer't, and live with such as cannot rule
- Nor ever will be rul'd.
- BRUTUS. Call't not a plot.
- The people cry you mock'd them; and of late,
- When corn was given them gratis, you repin'd;
- Scandal'd the suppliants for the people, call'd them
- Time-pleasers, flatterers, foes to nobleness.
- CORIOLANUS. Why, this was known before.
- BRUTUS. Not to them all.
- CORIOLANUS. Have you inform'd them sithence?
- BRUTUS. How? I inform them!
- COMINIUS. You are like to do such business.
- BRUTUS. Not unlike
- Each way to better yours.
- CORIOLANUS. Why then should I be consul? By yond clouds,
- Let me deserve so ill as you, and make me
- Your fellow tribune.
- SICINIUS. You show too much of that
- For which the people stir; if you will pass
- To where you are bound, you must enquire your way,
- Which you are out of, with a gentler spirit,
- Or never be so noble as a consul,
- Nor yoke with him for tribune.
- MENENIUS. Let's be calm.
- COMINIUS. The people are abus'd; set on. This palt'ring
- Becomes not Rome; nor has Coriolanus
- Deserved this so dishonour'd rub, laid falsely
- I' th' plain way of his merit.
- CORIOLANUS. Tell me of corn!
- This was my speech, and I will speak't again-
- MENENIUS. Not now, not now.
- FIRST SENATOR. Not in this heat, sir, now.
- CORIOLANUS. Now, as I live, I will.
- My nobler friends, I crave their pardons.
- For the mutable, rank-scented meiny, let them
- Regard me as I do not flatter, and
- Therein behold themselves. I say again,
- In soothing them we nourish 'gainst our Senate
- The cockle of rebellion, insolence, sedition,
- Which we ourselves have plough'd for, sow'd, and scatter'd,
- By mingling them with us, the honour'd number,
- Who lack not virtue, no, nor power, but that
- Which they have given to beggars.
- MENENIUS. Well, no more.
- FIRST SENATOR. No more words, we beseech you.
- CORIOLANUS. How? no more!
- As for my country I have shed my blood,
- Not fearing outward force, so shall my lungs
- Coin words till their decay against those measles
- Which we disdain should tetter us, yet sought
- The very way to catch them.
- BRUTUS. You speak o' th' people
- As if you were a god, to punish; not
- A man of their infirmity.
- SICINIUS. 'Twere well
- We let the people know't.
- MENENIUS. What, what? his choler?
- CORIOLANUS. Choler!
- Were I as patient as the midnight sleep,
- By Jove, 'twould be my mind!
- SICINIUS. It is a mind
- That shall remain a poison where it is,
- Not poison any further.
- CORIOLANUS. Shall remain!
- Hear you this Triton of the minnows? Mark you
- His absolute 'shall'?
- COMINIUS. 'Twas from the canon.
- CORIOLANUS. 'Shall'!
- O good but most unwise patricians! Why,
- You grave but reckless senators, have you thus
- Given Hydra here to choose an officer
- That with his peremptory 'shall,' being but
- The horn and noise o' th' monster's, wants not spirit
- To say he'll turn your current in a ditch,
- And make your channel his? If he have power,
- Then vail your ignorance; if none, awake
- Your dangerous lenity. If you are learn'd,
- Be not as common fools; if you are not,
- Let them have cushions by you. You are plebeians,
- If they be senators; and they are no less,
- When, both your voices blended, the great'st taste
- Most palates theirs. They choose their magistrate;
- And such a one as he, who puts his 'shall,'
- His popular 'shall,' against a graver bench
- Than ever frown'd in Greece. By Jove himself,
- It makes the consuls base; and my soul aches
- To know, when two authorities are up,
- Neither supreme, how soon confusion
- May enter 'twixt the gap of both and take
- The one by th' other.
- COMINIUS. Well, on to th' market-place.
- CORIOLANUS. Whoever gave that counsel to give forth
- The corn o' th' storehouse gratis, as 'twas us'd
- Sometime in Greece-
- MENENIUS. Well, well, no more of that.
- CORIOLANUS. Though there the people had more absolute pow'r-
- I say they nourish'd disobedience, fed
- The ruin of the state.
- BRUTUS. Why shall the people give
- One that speaks thus their voice?
- CORIOLANUS. I'll give my reasons,
- More worthier than their voices. They know the corn
- Was not our recompense, resting well assur'd
- They ne'er did service for't; being press'd to th' war
- Even when the navel of the state was touch'd,
- They would not thread the gates. This kind of service
- Did not deserve corn gratis. Being i' th' war,
- Their mutinies and revolts, wherein they show'd
- Most valour, spoke not for them. Th' accusation
- Which they have often made against the Senate,
- All cause unborn, could never be the native
- Of our so frank donation. Well, what then?
- How shall this bosom multiplied digest
- The Senate's courtesy? Let deeds express
- What's like to be their words: 'We did request it;
- We are the greater poll, and in true fear
- They gave us our demands.' Thus we debase
- The nature of our seats, and make the rabble
- Call our cares fears; which will in time
- Break ope the locks o' th' Senate and bring in
- The crows to peck the eagles.
- MENENIUS. Come, enough.
- BRUTUS. Enough, with over measure.
- CORIOLANUS. No, take more.
- What may be sworn by, both divine and human,
- Seal what I end withal! This double worship,
- Where one part does disdain with cause, the other
- Insult without all reason; where gentry, title, wisdom,
- Cannot conclude but by the yea and no
- Of general ignorance- it must omit
- Real necessities, and give way the while
- To unstable slightness. Purpose so barr'd, it follows
- Nothing is done to purpose. Therefore, beseech you-
- You that will be less fearful than discreet;
- That love the fundamental part of state
- More than you doubt the change on't; that prefer
- A noble life before a long, and wish
- To jump a body with a dangerous physic
- That's sure of death without it- at once pluck out
- The multitudinous tongue; let them not lick
- The sweet which is their poison. Your dishonour
- Mangles true judgment, and bereaves the state
- Of that integrity which should become't,
- Not having the power to do the good it would,
- For th' ill which doth control't.
- BRUTUS. Has said enough.
- SICINIUS. Has spoken like a traitor and shall answer
- As traitors do.
- CORIOLANUS. Thou wretch, despite o'erwhelm thee!
- What should the people do with these bald tribunes,
- On whom depending, their obedience fails
- To the greater bench? In a rebellion,
- When what's not meet, but what must be, was law,
- Then were they chosen; in a better hour
- Let what is meet be said it must be meet,
- And throw their power i' th' dust.
- BRUTUS. Manifest treason!
- SICINIUS. This a consul? No.
- BRUTUS. The aediles, ho!
-
- Enter an AEDILE
-
- Let him be apprehended.
- SICINIUS. Go call the people, [Exit AEDILE] in whose name myself
- Attach thee as a traitorous innovator,
- A foe to th' public weal. Obey, I charge thee,
- And follow to thine answer.
- CORIOLANUS. Hence, old goat!
- PATRICIANS. We'll surety him.
- COMINIUS. Ag'd sir, hands off.
- CORIOLANUS. Hence, rotten thing! or I shall shake thy bones
- Out of thy garments.
- SICINIUS. Help, ye citizens!
-
- Enter a rabble of plebeians, with the AEDILES
-
- MENENIUS. On both sides more respect.
- SICINIUS. Here's he that would take from you all your power.
- BRUTUS. Seize him, aediles.
- PLEBEIANS. Down with him! down with him!
- SECOND SENATOR. Weapons, weapons, weapons!
- [They all bustle about CORIOLANUS]
- ALL. Tribunes! patricians! citizens! What, ho! Sicinius!
- Brutus! Coriolanus! Citizens!
- PATRICIANS. Peace, peace, peace; stay, hold, peace!
- MENENIUS. What is about to be? I am out of breath;
- Confusion's near; I cannot speak. You tribunes
- To th' people- Coriolanus, patience!
- Speak, good Sicinius.
- SICINIUS. Hear me, people; peace!
- PLEBEIANS. Let's hear our tribune. Peace! Speak, speak, speak.
- SICINIUS. You are at point to lose your liberties.
- Marcius would have all from you; Marcius,
- Whom late you have nam'd for consul.
- MENENIUS. Fie, fie, fie!
- This is the way to kindle, not to quench.
- FIRST SENATOR. To unbuild the city, and to lay all flat.
- SICINIUS. What is the city but the people?
- PLEBEIANS. True,
- The people are the city.
- BRUTUS. By the consent of all we were establish'd
- The people's magistrates.
- PLEBEIANS. You so remain.
- MENENIUS. And so are like to do.
- COMINIUS. That is the way to lay the city flat,
- To bring the roof to the foundation,
- And bury all which yet distinctly ranges
- In heaps and piles of ruin.
- SICINIUS. This deserves death.
- BRUTUS. Or let us stand to our authority
- Or let us lose it. We do here pronounce,
- Upon the part o' th' people, in whose power
- We were elected theirs: Marcius is worthy
- Of present death.
- SICINIUS. Therefore lay hold of him;
- Bear him to th' rock Tarpeian, and from thence
- Into destruction cast him.
- BRUTUS. AEdiles, seize him.
- PLEBEIANS. Yield, Marcius, yield.
- MENENIUS. Hear me one word; beseech you, Tribunes,
- Hear me but a word.
- AEDILES. Peace, peace!
- MENENIUS. Be that you seem, truly your country's friend,
- And temp'rately proceed to what you would
- Thus violently redress.
- BRUTUS. Sir, those cold ways,
- That seem like prudent helps, are very poisonous
- Where the disease is violent. Lay hands upon him
- And bear him to the rock.
- [CORIOLANUS draws his sword]
- CORIOLANUS. No: I'll die here.
- There's some among you have beheld me fighting;
- Come, try upon yourselves what you have seen me.
- MENENIUS. Down with that sword! Tribunes, withdraw awhile.
- BRUTUS. Lay hands upon him.
- MENENIUS. Help Marcius, help,
- You that be noble; help him, young and old.
- PLEBEIANS. Down with him, down with him!
- [In this mutiny the TRIBUNES, the AEDILES,
- and the people are beat in]
- MENENIUS. Go, get you to your house; be gone, away.
- All will be nought else.
- SECOND SENATOR. Get you gone.
- CORIOLANUS. Stand fast;
- We have as many friends as enemies.
- MENENIUS. Shall it be put to that?
- FIRST SENATOR. The gods forbid!
- I prithee, noble friend, home to thy house;
- Leave us to cure this cause.
- MENENIUS. For 'tis a sore upon us
- You cannot tent yourself; be gone, beseech you.
- COMINIUS. Come, sir, along with us.
- CORIOLANUS. I would they were barbarians, as they are,
- Though in Rome litter'd; not Romans, as they are not,
- Though calved i' th' porch o' th' Capitol.
- MENENIUS. Be gone.
- Put not your worthy rage into your tongue;
- One time will owe another.
- CORIOLANUS. On fair ground
- I could beat forty of them.
- MENENIUS. I could myself
- Take up a brace o' th' best of them; yea, the two tribunes.
- COMINIUS. But now 'tis odds beyond arithmetic,
- And manhood is call'd foolery when it stands
- Against a falling fabric. Will you hence,
- Before the tag return? whose rage doth rend
- Like interrupted waters, and o'erbear
- What they are us'd to bear.
- MENENIUS. Pray you be gone.
- I'll try whether my old wit be in request
- With those that have but little; this must be patch'd
- With cloth of any colour.
- COMINIUS. Nay, come away.
- Exeunt CORIOLANUS and COMINIUS, with others
- PATRICIANS. This man has marr'd his fortune.
- MENENIUS. His nature is too noble for the world:
- He would not flatter Neptune for his trident,
- Or Jove for's power to thunder. His heart's his mouth;
- What his breast forges, that his tongue must vent;
- And, being angry, does forget that ever
- He heard the name of death. [A noise within]
- Here's goodly work!
- PATRICIANS. I would they were a-bed.
- MENENIUS. I would they were in Tiber.
- What the vengeance, could he not speak 'em fair?
-
- Re-enter BRUTUS and SICINIUS, the rabble again
-
- SICINIUS. Where is this viper
- That would depopulate the city and
- Be every man himself?
- MENENIUS. You worthy Tribunes-
- SICINIUS. He shall be thrown down the Tarpeian rock
- With rigorous hands; he hath resisted law,
- And therefore law shall scorn him further trial
- Than the severity of the public power,
- Which he so sets at nought.
- FIRST CITIZEN. He shall well know
- The noble tribunes are the people's mouths,
- And we their hands.
- PLEBEIANS. He shall, sure on't.
- MENENIUS. Sir, sir-
- SICINIUS. Peace!
- MENENIUS. Do not cry havoc, where you should but hunt
- With modest warrant.
- SICINIUS. Sir, how comes't that you
- Have holp to make this rescue?
- MENENIUS. Hear me speak.
- As I do know the consul's worthiness,
- So can I name his faults.
- SICINIUS. Consul! What consul?
- MENENIUS. The consul Coriolanus.
- BRUTUS. He consul!
- PLEBEIANS. No, no, no, no, no.
- MENENIUS. If, by the tribunes' leave, and yours, good people,
- I may be heard, I would crave a word or two;
- The which shall turn you to no further harm
- Than so much loss of time.
- SICINIUS. Speak briefly, then,
- For we are peremptory to dispatch
- This viperous traitor; to eject him hence
- Were but one danger, and to keep him here
- Our certain death; therefore it is decreed
- He dies to-night.
- MENENIUS. Now the good gods forbid
- That our renowned Rome, whose gratitude
- Towards her deserved children is enroll'd
- In Jove's own book, like an unnatural dam
- Should now eat up her own!
- SICINIUS. He's a disease that must be cut away.
- MENENIUS. O, he's a limb that has but a disease-
- Mortal, to cut it off: to cure it, easy.
- What has he done to Rome that's worthy death?
- Killing our enemies, the blood he hath lost-
- Which I dare vouch is more than that he hath
- By many an ounce- he dropt it for his country;
- And what is left, to lose it by his country
- Were to us all that do't and suffer it
- A brand to th' end o' th' world.
- SICINIUS. This is clean kam.
- BRUTUS. Merely awry. When he did love his country,
- It honour'd him.
- SICINIUS. The service of the foot,
- Being once gangren'd, is not then respected
- For what before it was.
- BRUTUS. We'll hear no more.
- Pursue him to his house and pluck him thence,
- Lest his infection, being of catching nature,
- Spread further.
- MENENIUS. One word more, one word
- This tiger-footed rage, when it shall find
- The harm of unscann'd swiftness, will, too late,
- Tie leaden pounds to's heels. Proceed by process,
- Lest parties- as he is belov'd- break out,
- And sack great Rome with Romans.
- BRUTUS. If it were so-
- SICINIUS. What do ye talk?
- Have we not had a taste of his obedience-
- Our aediles smote, ourselves resisted? Come!
- MENENIUS. Consider this: he has been bred i' th' wars
- Since 'a could draw a sword, and is ill school'd
- In bolted language; meal and bran together
- He throws without distinction. Give me leave,
- I'll go to him and undertake to bring him
- Where he shall answer by a lawful form,
- In peace, to his utmost peril.
- FIRST SENATOR. Noble Tribunes,
- It is the humane way; the other course
- Will prove too bloody, and the end of it
- Unknown to the beginning.
- SICINIUS. Noble Menenius,
- Be you then as the people's officer.
- Masters, lay down your weapons.
- BRUTUS. Go not home.
- SICINIUS. Meet on the market-place. We'll attend you there;
- Where, if you bring not Marcius, we'll proceed
- In our first way.
- MENENIUS. I'll bring him to you.
- [To the SENATORS] Let me desire your company; he must come,
- Or what is worst will follow.
- FIRST SENATOR. Pray you let's to him. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-Rome. The house of CORIOLANUS
-
-Enter CORIOLANUS with NOBLES
-
- CORIOLANUS. Let them pull all about mine ears, present me
- Death on the wheel or at wild horses' heels;
- Or pile ten hills on the Tarpeian rock,
- That the precipitation might down stretch
- Below the beam of sight; yet will I still
- Be thus to them.
- FIRST PATRICIAN. You do the nobler.
- CORIOLANUS. I muse my mother
- Does not approve me further, who was wont
- To call them woollen vassals, things created
- To buy and sell with groats; to show bare heads
- In congregations, to yawn, be still, and wonder,
- When one but of my ordinance stood up
- To speak of peace or war.
-
- Enter VOLUMNIA
-
- I talk of you:
- Why did you wish me milder? Would you have me
- False to my nature? Rather say I play
- The man I am.
- VOLUMNIA. O, sir, sir, sir,
- I would have had you put your power well on
- Before you had worn it out.
- CORIOLANUS. Let go.
- VOLUMNIA. You might have been enough the man you are
- With striving less to be so; lesser had been
- The thwartings of your dispositions, if
- You had not show'd them how ye were dispos'd,
- Ere they lack'd power to cross you.
- CORIOLANUS. Let them hang.
- VOLUMNIA. Ay, and burn too.
-
- Enter MENENIUS with the SENATORS
-
- MENENIUS. Come, come, you have been too rough, something too rough;
- You must return and mend it.
- FIRST SENATOR. There's no remedy,
- Unless, by not so doing, our good city
- Cleave in the midst and perish.
- VOLUMNIA. Pray be counsell'd;
- I have a heart as little apt as yours,
- But yet a brain that leads my use of anger
- To better vantage.
- MENENIUS. Well said, noble woman!
- Before he should thus stoop to th' herd, but that
- The violent fit o' th' time craves it as physic
- For the whole state, I would put mine armour on,
- Which I can scarcely bear.
- CORIOLANUS. What must I do?
- MENENIUS. Return to th' tribunes.
- CORIOLANUS. Well, what then, what then?
- MENENIUS. Repent what you have spoke.
- CORIOLANUS. For them! I cannot do it to the gods;
- Must I then do't to them?
- VOLUMNIA. You are too absolute;
- Though therein you can never be too noble
- But when extremities speak. I have heard you say
- Honour and policy, like unsever'd friends,
- I' th' war do grow together; grant that, and tell me
- In peace what each of them by th' other lose
- That they combine not there.
- CORIOLANUS. Tush, tush!
- MENENIUS. A good demand.
- VOLUMNIA. If it be honour in your wars to seem
- The same you are not, which for your best ends
- You adopt your policy, how is it less or worse
- That it shall hold companionship in peace
- With honour as in war; since that to both
- It stands in like request?
- CORIOLANUS. Why force you this?
- VOLUMNIA. Because that now it lies you on to speak
- To th' people, not by your own instruction,
- Nor by th' matter which your heart prompts you,
- But with such words that are but roted in
- Your tongue, though but bastards and syllables
- Of no allowance to your bosom's truth.
- Now, this no more dishonours you at all
- Than to take in a town with gentle words,
- Which else would put you to your fortune and
- The hazard of much blood.
- I would dissemble with my nature where
- My fortunes and my friends at stake requir'd
- I should do so in honour. I am in this
- Your wife, your son, these senators, the nobles;
- And you will rather show our general louts
- How you can frown, than spend a fawn upon 'em
- For the inheritance of their loves and safeguard
- Of what that want might ruin.
- MENENIUS. Noble lady!
- Come, go with us, speak fair; you may salve so,
- Not what is dangerous present, but the los
- Of what is past.
- VOLUMNIA. I prithee now, My son,
- Go to them with this bonnet in thy hand;
- And thus far having stretch'd it- here be with them-
- Thy knee bussing the stones- for in such busines
- Action is eloquence, and the eyes of th' ignorant
- More learned than the ears- waving thy head,
- Which often thus correcting thy-stout heart,
- Now humble as the ripest mulberry
- That will not hold the handling. Or say to them
- Thou art their soldier and, being bred in broils,
- Hast not the soft way which, thou dost confess,
- Were fit for thee to use, as they to claim,
- In asking their good loves; but thou wilt frame
- Thyself, forsooth, hereafter theirs, so far
- As thou hast power and person.
- MENENIUS. This but done
- Even as she speaks, why, their hearts were yours;
- For they have pardons, being ask'd, as free
- As words to little purpose.
- VOLUMNIA. Prithee now,
- Go, and be rul'd; although I know thou hadst rather
- Follow thine enemy in a fiery gulf
- Than flatter him in a bower.
-
- Enter COMINIUS
-
- Here is Cominius.
- COMINIUS. I have been i' th' market-place; and, sir, 'tis fit
- You make strong party, or defend yourself
- By calmness or by absence; all's in anger.
- MENENIUS. Only fair speech.
- COMINIUS. I think 'twill serve, if he
- Can thereto frame his spirit.
- VOLUMNIA. He must and will.
- Prithee now, say you will, and go about it.
- CORIOLANUS. Must I go show them my unbarb'd sconce? Must I
- With my base tongue give to my noble heart
- A lie that it must bear? Well, I will do't;
- Yet, were there but this single plot to lose,
- This mould of Marcius, they to dust should grind it,
- And throw't against the wind. To th' market-place!
- You have put me now to such a part which never
- I shall discharge to th' life.
- COMINIUS. Come, come, we'll prompt you.
- VOLUMNIA. I prithee now, sweet son, as thou hast said
- My praises made thee first a soldier, so,
- To have my praise for this, perform a part
- Thou hast not done before.
- CORIOLANUS. Well, I must do't.
- Away, my disposition, and possess me
- Some harlot's spirit! My throat of war be turn'd,
- Which quier'd with my drum, into a pipe
- Small as an eunuch or the virgin voice
- That babies lulls asleep! The smiles of knaves
- Tent in my cheeks, and schoolboys' tears take up
- The glasses of my sight! A beggar's tongue
- Make motion through my lips, and my arm'd knees,
- Who bow'd but in my stirrup, bend like his
- That hath receiv'd an alms! I will not do't,
- Lest I surcease to honour mine own truth,
- And by my body's action teach my mind
- A most inherent baseness.
- VOLUMNIA. At thy choice, then.
- To beg of thee, it is my more dishonour
- Than thou of them. Come all to ruin. Let
- Thy mother rather feel thy pride than fear
- Thy dangerous stoutness; for I mock at death
- With as big heart as thou. Do as thou list.
- Thy valiantness was mine, thou suck'dst it from me;
- But owe thy pride thyself.
- CORIOLANUS. Pray be content.
- Mother, I am going to the market-place;
- Chide me no more. I'll mountebank their loves,
- Cog their hearts from them, and come home belov'd
- Of all the trades in Rome. Look, I am going.
- Commend me to my wife. I'll return consul,
- Or never trust to what my tongue can do
- I' th' way of flattery further.
- VOLUMNIA. Do your will. Exit
- COMINIUS. Away! The tribunes do attend you. Arm yourself
- To answer mildly; for they are prepar'd
- With accusations, as I hear, more strong
- Than are upon you yet.
- CORIOLANUS. The word is 'mildly.' Pray you let us go.
- Let them accuse me by invention; I
- Will answer in mine honour.
- MENENIUS. Ay, but mildly.
- CORIOLANUS. Well, mildly be it then- mildly. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-Rome. The Forum
-
-Enter SICINIUS and BRUTUS
-
- BRUTUS. In this point charge him home, that he affects
- Tyrannical power. If he evade us there,
- Enforce him with his envy to the people,
- And that the spoil got on the Antiates
- Was ne'er distributed.
-
- Enter an AEDILE
-
- What, will he come?
- AEDILE. He's coming.
- BRUTUS. How accompanied?
- AEDILE. With old Menenius, and those senators
- That always favour'd him.
- SICINIUS. Have you a catalogue
- Of all the voices that we have procur'd,
- Set down by th' poll?
- AEDILE. I have; 'tis ready.
- SICINIUS. Have you corrected them by tribes?
- AEDILE. I have.
- SICINIUS. Assemble presently the people hither;
- And when they hear me say 'It shall be so
- I' th' right and strength o' th' commons' be it either
- For death, for fine, or banishment, then let them,
- If I say fine, cry 'Fine!'- if death, cry 'Death!'
- Insisting on the old prerogative
- And power i' th' truth o' th' cause.
- AEDILE. I shall inform them.
- BRUTUS. And when such time they have begun to cry,
- Let them not cease, but with a din confus'd
- Enforce the present execution
- Of what we chance to sentence.
- AEDILE. Very well.
- SICINIUS. Make them be strong, and ready for this hint,
- When we shall hap to give't them.
- BRUTUS. Go about it. Exit AEDILE
- Put him to choler straight. He hath been us'd
- Ever to conquer, and to have his worth
- Of contradiction; being once chaf'd, he cannot
- Be rein'd again to temperance; then he speaks
- What's in his heart, and that is there which looks
- With us to break his neck.
-
- Enter CORIOLANUS, MENENIUS and COMINIUS, with others
-
- SICINIUS. Well, here he comes.
- MENENIUS. Calmly, I do beseech you.
- CORIOLANUS. Ay, as an ostler, that for th' poorest piece
- Will bear the knave by th' volume. Th' honour'd gods
- Keep Rome in safety, and the chairs of justice
- Supplied with worthy men! plant love among's!
- Throng our large temples with the shows of peace,
- And not our streets with war!
- FIRST SENATOR. Amen, amen!
- MENENIUS. A noble wish.
-
- Re-enter the.AEDILE,with the plebeians
-
- SICINIUS. Draw near, ye people.
- AEDILE. List to your tribunes. Audience! peace, I say!
- CORIOLANUS. First, hear me speak.
- BOTH TRIBUNES. Well, say. Peace, ho!
- CORIOLANUS. Shall I be charg'd no further than this present?
- Must all determine here?
- SICINIUS. I do demand,
- If you submit you to the people's voices,
- Allow their officers, and are content
- To suffer lawful censure for such faults
- As shall be prov'd upon you.
- CORIOLANUS. I am content.
- MENENIUS. Lo, citizens, he says he is content.
- The warlike service he has done, consider; think
- Upon the wounds his body bears, which show
- Like graves i' th' holy churchyard.
- CORIOLANUS. Scratches with briers,
- Scars to move laughter only.
- MENENIUS. Consider further,
- That when he speaks not like a citizen,
- You find him like a soldier; do not take
- His rougher accents for malicious sounds,
- But, as I say, such as become a soldier
- Rather than envy you.
- COMINIUS. Well, well! No more.
- CORIOLANUS. What is the matter,
- That being pass'd for consul with full voice,
- I am so dishonour'd that the very hour
- You take it off again?
- SICINIUS. Answer to us.
- CORIOLANUS. Say then; 'tis true, I ought so.
- SICINIUS. We charge you that you have contriv'd to take
- From Rome all season'd office, and to wind
- Yourself into a power tyrannical;
- For which you are a traitor to the people.
- CORIOLANUS. How- traitor?
- MENENIUS. Nay, temperately! Your promise.
- CORIOLANUS. The fires i' th' lowest hell fold in the people!
- Call me their traitor! Thou injurious tribune!
- Within thine eyes sat twenty thousand deaths,
- In thy hands clutch'd as many millions, in
- Thy lying tongue both numbers, I would say
- 'Thou liest' unto thee with a voice as free
- As I do pray the gods.
- SICINIUS. Mark you this, people?
- PLEBEIANS. To th' rock, to th' rock, with him!
- SICINIUS. Peace!
- We need not put new matter to his charge.
- What you have seen him do and heard him speak,
- Beating your officers, cursing yourselves,
- Opposing laws with strokes, and here defying
- Those whose great power must try him- even this,
- So criminal and in such capital kind,
- Deserves th' extremest death.
- BRUTUS. But since he hath
- Serv'd well for Rome-
- CORIOLANUS. What do you prate of service?
- BRUTUS. I talk of that that know it.
- CORIOLANUS. You!
- MENENIUS. Is this the promise that you made your mother?
- COMINIUS. Know, I pray you-
- CORIOLANUS. I'll know no further.
- Let them pronounce the steep Tarpeian death,
- Vagabond exile, flaying, pent to linger
- But with a grain a day, I would not buy
- Their mercy at the price of one fair word,
- Nor check my courage for what they can give,
- To have't with saying 'Good morrow.'
- SICINIUS. For that he has-
- As much as in him lies- from time to time
- Envied against the people, seeking means
- To pluck away their power; as now at last
- Given hostile strokes, and that not in the presence
- Of dreaded justice, but on the ministers
- That do distribute it- in the name o' th' people,
- And in the power of us the tribunes, we,
- Ev'n from this instant, banish him our city,
- In peril of precipitation
- From off the rock Tarpeian, never more
- To enter our Rome gates. I' th' people's name,
- I say it shall be so.
- PLEBEIANS. It shall be so, it shall be so! Let him away!
- He's banish'd, and it shall be so.
- COMINIUS. Hear me, my masters and my common friends-
- SICINIUS. He's sentenc'd; no more hearing.
- COMINIUS. Let me speak.
- I have been consul, and can show for Rome
- Her enemies' marks upon me. I do love
- My country's good with a respect more tender,
- More holy and profound, than mine own life,
- My dear wife's estimate, her womb's increase
- And treasure of my loins. Then if I would
- Speak that-
- SICINIUS. We know your drift. Speak what?
- BRUTUS. There's no more to be said, but he is banish'd,
- As enemy to the people and his country.
- It shall be so.
- PLEBEIANS. It shall be so, it shall be so.
- CORIOLANUS. YOU common cry of curs, whose breath I hate
- As reek o' th' rotten fens, whose loves I prize
- As the dead carcasses of unburied men
- That do corrupt my air- I banish you.
- And here remain with your uncertainty!
- Let every feeble rumour shake your hearts;
- Your enemies, with nodding of their plumes,
- Fan you into despair! Have the power still
- To banish your defenders, till at length
- Your ignorance- which finds not till it feels,
- Making but reservation of yourselves
- Still your own foes- deliver you
- As most abated captives to some nation
- That won you without blows! Despising
- For you the city, thus I turn my back;
- There is a world elsewhere.
- Exeunt CORIOLANUS,
- COMINIUS, MENENIUS, with the other PATRICIANS
- AEDILE. The people's enemy is gone, is gone!
- [They all shout and throw up their caps]
- PLEBEIANS. Our enemy is banish'd, he is gone! Hoo-oo!
- SICINIUS. Go see him out at gates, and follow him,
- As he hath follow'd you, with all despite;
- Give him deserv'd vexation. Let a guard
- Attend us through the city.
- PLEBEIANS. Come, come, let's see him out at gates; come!
- The gods preserve our noble tribunes! Come. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT IV. SCENE I.
-Rome. Before a gate of the city
-
-Enter CORIOLANUS, VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, MENENIUS, COMINIUS,
-with the young NOBILITY of Rome
-
- CORIOLANUS. Come, leave your tears; a brief farewell. The beast
- With many heads butts me away. Nay, mother,
- Where is your ancient courage? You were us'd
- To say extremities was the trier of spirits;
- That common chances common men could bear;
- That when the sea was calm all boats alike
- Show'd mastership in floating; fortune's blows,
- When most struck home, being gentle wounded craves
- A noble cunning. You were us'd to load me
- With precepts that would make invincible
- The heart that conn'd them.
- VIRGILIA. O heavens! O heavens!
- CORIOLANUS. Nay, I prithee, woman-
- VOLUMNIA. Now the red pestilence strike all trades in Rome,
- And occupations perish!
- CORIOLANUS. What, what, what!
- I shall be lov'd when I am lack'd. Nay, mother,
- Resume that spirit when you were wont to say,
- If you had been the wife of Hercules,
- Six of his labours you'd have done, and sav'd
- Your husband so much sweat. Cominius,
- Droop not; adieu. Farewell, my wife, my mother.
- I'll do well yet. Thou old and true Menenius,
- Thy tears are salter than a younger man's
- And venomous to thine eyes. My sometime General,
- I have seen thee stern, and thou hast oft beheld
- Heart-hard'ning spectacles; tell these sad women
- 'Tis fond to wail inevitable strokes,
- As 'tis to laugh at 'em. My mother, you wot well
- My hazards still have been your solace; and
- Believe't not lightly- though I go alone,
- Like to a lonely dragon, that his fen
- Makes fear'd and talk'd of more than seen- your son
- Will or exceed the common or be caught
- With cautelous baits and practice.
- VOLUMNIA. My first son,
- Whither wilt thou go? Take good Cominius
- With thee awhile; determine on some course
- More than a wild exposture to each chance
- That starts i' th' way before thee.
- VIRGILIA. O the gods!
- COMINIUS. I'll follow thee a month, devise with the
- Where thou shalt rest, that thou mayst hear of us,
- And we of thee; so, if the time thrust forth
- A cause for thy repeal, we shall not send
- O'er the vast world to seek a single man,
- And lose advantage, which doth ever cool
- I' th' absence of the needer.
- CORIOLANUS. Fare ye well;
- Thou hast years upon thee, and thou art too full
- Of the wars' surfeits to go rove with one
- That's yet unbruis'd; bring me but out at gate.
- Come, my sweet wife, my dearest mother, and
- My friends of noble touch; when I am forth,
- Bid me farewell, and smile. I pray you come.
- While I remain above the ground you shall
- Hear from me still, and never of me aught
- But what is like me formerly.
- MENENIUS. That's worthily
- As any ear can hear. Come, let's not weep.
- If I could shake off but one seven years
- From these old arms and legs, by the good gods,
- I'd with thee every foot.
- CORIOLANUS. Give me thy hand.
- Come. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-Rome. A street near the gate
-
-Enter the two Tribunes, SICINIUS and BRUTUS with the AEDILE
-
- SICINIUS. Bid them all home; he's gone, and we'll no further.
- The nobility are vex'd, whom we see have sided
- In his behalf.
- BRUTUS. Now we have shown our power,
- Let us seem humbler after it is done
- Than when it was a-doing.
- SICINIUS. Bid them home.
- Say their great enemy is gone, and they
- Stand in their ancient strength.
- BRUTUS. Dismiss them home. Exit AEDILE
- Here comes his mother.
-
- Enter VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, and MENENIUS
-
- SICINIUS. Let's not meet her.
- BRUTUS. Why?
- SICINIUS. They say she's mad.
- BRUTUS. They have ta'en note of us; keep on your way.
- VOLUMNIA. O, Y'are well met; th' hoarded plague o' th' gods
- Requite your love!
- MENENIUS. Peace, peace, be not so loud.
- VOLUMNIA. If that I could for weeping, you should hear-
- Nay, and you shall hear some. [To BRUTUS] Will you be gone?
- VIRGILIA. [To SICINIUS] You shall stay too. I would I had the
- power
- To say so to my husband.
- SICINIUS. Are you mankind?
- VOLUMNIA. Ay, fool; is that a shame? Note but this, fool:
- Was not a man my father? Hadst thou foxship
- To banish him that struck more blows for Rome
- Than thou hast spoken words?
- SICINIUS. O blessed heavens!
- VOLUMNIA. Moe noble blows than ever thou wise words;
- And for Rome's good. I'll tell thee what- yet go!
- Nay, but thou shalt stay too. I would my son
- Were in Arabia, and thy tribe before him,
- His good sword in his hand.
- SICINIUS. What then?
- VIRGILIA. What then!
- He'd make an end of thy posterity.
- VOLUMNIA. Bastards and all.
- Good man, the wounds that he does bear for Rome!
- MENENIUS. Come, come, peace.
- SICINIUS. I would he had continued to his country
- As he began, and not unknit himself
- The noble knot he made.
- BRUTUS. I would he had.
- VOLUMNIA. 'I would he had!' 'Twas you incens'd the rabble-
- Cats that can judge as fitly of his worth
- As I can of those mysteries which heaven
- Will not have earth to know.
- BRUTUS. Pray, let's go.
- VOLUMNIA. Now, pray, sir, get you gone;
- You have done a brave deed. Ere you go, hear this:
- As far as doth the Capitol exceed
- The meanest house in Rome, so far my son-
- This lady's husband here, this, do you see?-
- Whom you have banish'd does exceed you an.
- BRUTUS. Well, well, we'll leave you.
- SICINIUS. Why stay we to be baited
- With one that wants her wits? Exeunt TRIBUNES
- VOLUMNIA. Take my prayers with you.
- I would the gods had nothing else to do
- But to confirm my curses. Could I meet 'em
- But once a day, it would unclog my heart
- Of what lies heavy to't.
- MENENIUS. You have told them home,
- And, by my troth, you have cause. You'll sup with me?
- VOLUMNIA. Anger's my meat; I sup upon myself,
- And so shall starve with feeding. Come, let's go.
- Leave this faint puling and lament as I do,
- In anger, Juno-like. Come, come, come.
- Exeunt VOLUMNIA and VIRGILIA
- MENENIUS. Fie, fie, fie! Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-A highway between Rome and Antium
-
-Enter a ROMAN and a VOLSCE, meeting
-
- ROMAN. I know you well, sir, and you know me; your name, I think,
- is Adrian.
- VOLSCE. It is so, sir. Truly, I have forgot you.
- ROMAN. I am a Roman; and my services are, as you are, against 'em.
- Know you me yet?
- VOLSCE. Nicanor? No!
- ROMAN. The same, sir.
- VOLSCE. YOU had more beard when I last saw you, but your favour is
- well appear'd by your tongue. What's the news in Rome? I have a
- note from the Volscian state, to find you out there. You have
- well saved me a day's journey.
- ROMAN. There hath been in Rome strange insurrections: the people
- against the senators, patricians, and nobles.
- VOLSCE. Hath been! Is it ended, then? Our state thinks not so; they
- are in a most warlike preparation, and hope to come upon them in
- the heat of their division.
- ROMAN. The main blaze of it is past, but a small thing would make
- it flame again; for the nobles receive so to heart the banishment
- of that worthy Coriolanus that they are in a ripe aptness to take
- all power from the people, and to pluck from them their tribunes
- for ever. This lies glowing, I can tell you, and is almost mature
- for the violent breaking out.
- VOLSCE. Coriolanus banish'd!
- ROMAN. Banish'd, sir.
- VOLSCE. You will be welcome with this intelligence, Nicanor.
- ROMAN. The day serves well for them now. I have heard it said the
- fittest time to corrupt a man's wife is when she's fall'n out
- with her husband. Your noble Tullus Aufidius will appear well in
- these wars, his great opposer, Coriolanus, being now in no
- request of his country.
- VOLSCE. He cannot choose. I am most fortunate thus accidentally to
- encounter you; you have ended my business, and I will merrily
- accompany you home.
- ROMAN. I shall between this and supper tell you most strange things
- from Rome, all tending to the good of their adversaries. Have you
- an army ready, say you?
- VOLSCE. A most royal one: the centurions and their charges,
- distinctly billeted, already in th' entertainment, and to be on
- foot at an hour's warning.
- ROMAN. I am joyful to hear of their readiness, and am the man, I
- think, that shall set them in present action. So, sir, heartily
- well met, and most glad of your company.
- VOLSCE. You take my part from me, sir. I have the most cause to be
- glad of yours.
- ROMAN. Well, let us go together.
-
-
-
-
-SCENE IV.
-Antium. Before AUFIDIUS' house
-
-Enter CORIOLANUS, in mean apparel, disguis'd and muffled
-
- CORIOLANUS. A goodly city is this Antium. City,
- 'Tis I that made thy widows: many an heir
- Of these fair edifices fore my wars
- Have I heard groan and drop. Then know me not.
- Lest that thy wives with spits and boys with stones,
- In puny battle slay me.
-
- Enter A CITIZEN
-
- Save you, sir.
- CITIZEN. And you.
- CORIOLANUS. Direct me, if it be your will,
- Where great Aufidius lies. Is he in Antium?
- CITIZEN. He is, and feasts the nobles of the state
- At his house this night.
- CORIOLANUS. Which is his house, beseech you?
- CITIZEN. This here before you.
- CORIOLANUS. Thank you, sir; farewell. Exit CITIZEN
- O world, thy slippery turns! Friends now fast sworn,
- Whose double bosoms seems to wear one heart,
- Whose hours, whose bed, whose meal and exercise
- Are still together, who twin, as 'twere, in love,
- Unseparable, shall within this hour,
- On a dissension of a doit, break out
- To bitterest enmity; so fellest foes,
- Whose passions and whose plots have broke their sleep
- To take the one the other, by some chance,
- Some trick not worth an egg, shall grow dear friends
- And interjoin their issues. So with me:
- My birthplace hate I, and my love's upon
- This enemy town. I'll enter. If he slay me,
- He does fair justice: if he give me way,
- I'll do his country service.
-
-
-
-
-SCENE V.
-Antium. AUFIDIUS' house
-
-Music plays. Enter A SERVINGMAN
-
- FIRST SERVANT. Wine, wine, wine! What service is here! I think our
- fellows are asleep. Exit
-
- Enter another SERVINGMAN
-
- SECOND SERVANT.Where's Cotus? My master calls for him.
- Cotus! Exit
-
- Enter CORIOLANUS
-
- CORIOLANUS. A goodly house. The feast smells well, but I
- Appear not like a guest.
-
- Re-enter the first SERVINGMAN
-
- FIRST SERVANT. What would you have, friend?
- Whence are you? Here's no place for you: pray go to the door.
- Exit
- CORIOLANUS. I have deserv'd no better entertainment
- In being Coriolanus.
-
- Re-enter second SERVINGMAN
-
- SECOND SERVANT. Whence are you, sir? Has the porter his eyes in his
- head that he gives entrance to such companions? Pray get you out.
- CORIOLANUS. Away!
- SECOND SERVANT. Away? Get you away.
- CORIOLANUS. Now th' art troublesome.
- SECOND SERVANT. Are you so brave? I'll have you talk'd with anon.
-
- Enter a third SERVINGMAN. The first meets him
-
- THIRD SERVANT. What fellow's this?
- FIRST SERVANT. A strange one as ever I look'd on. I cannot get him
- out o' th' house. Prithee call my master to him.
- THIRD SERVANT. What have you to do here, fellow? Pray you avoid the
- house.
- CORIOLANUS. Let me but stand- I will not hurt your hearth.
- THIRD SERVANT. What are you?
- CORIOLANUS. A gentleman.
- THIRD SERVANT. A marv'llous poor one.
- CORIOLANUS. True, so I am.
- THIRD SERVANT. Pray you, poor gentleman, take up some other
- station; here's no place for you. Pray you avoid. Come.
- CORIOLANUS. Follow your function, go and batten on cold bits.
- [Pushes him away from him]
- THIRD SERVANT. What, you will not? Prithee tell my master what a
- strange guest he has here.
- SECOND SERVANT. And I shall. Exit
- THIRD SERVANT. Where dwell'st thou?
- CORIOLANUS. Under the canopy.
- THIRD SERVANT. Under the canopy?
- CORIOLANUS. Ay.
- THIRD SERVANT. Where's that?
- CORIOLANUS. I' th' city of kites and crows.
- THIRD SERVANT. I' th' city of kites and crows!
- What an ass it is! Then thou dwell'st with daws too?
- CORIOLANUS. No, I serve not thy master.
- THIRD SERVANT. How, sir! Do you meddle with my master?
- CORIOLANUS. Ay; 'tis an honester service than to meddle with thy
- mistress. Thou prat'st and prat'st; serve with thy trencher;
- hence! [Beats him away]
-
- Enter AUFIDIUS with the second SERVINGMAN
-
- AUFIDIUS. Where is this fellow?
- SECOND SERVANT. Here, sir; I'd have beaten him like a dog, but for
- disturbing the lords within.
- AUFIDIUS. Whence com'st thou? What wouldst thou? Thy name?
- Why speak'st not? Speak, man. What's thy name?
- CORIOLANUS. [Unmuffling] If, Tullus,
- Not yet thou know'st me, and, seeing me, dost not
- Think me for the man I am, necessity
- Commands me name myself.
- AUFIDIUS. What is thy name?
- CORIOLANUS. A name unmusical to the Volscians' ears,
- And harsh in sound to thine.
- AUFIDIUS. Say, what's thy name?
- Thou has a grim appearance, and thy face
- Bears a command in't; though thy tackle's torn,
- Thou show'st a noble vessel. What's thy name?
- CORIOLANUS. Prepare thy brow to frown- know'st thou me yet?
- AUFIDIUS. I know thee not. Thy name?
- CORIOLANUS. My name is Caius Marcius, who hath done
- To thee particularly, and to all the Volsces,
- Great hurt and mischief; thereto witness may
- My surname, Coriolanus. The painful service,
- The extreme dangers, and the drops of blood
- Shed for my thankless country, are requited
- But with that surname- a good memory
- And witness of the malice and displeasure
- Which thou shouldst bear me. Only that name remains;
- The cruelty and envy of the people,
- Permitted by our dastard nobles, who
- Have all forsook me, hath devour'd the rest,
- An suffer'd me by th' voice of slaves to be
- Whoop'd out of Rome. Now this extremity
- Hath brought me to thy hearth; not out of hope,
- Mistake me not, to save my life; for if
- I had fear'd death, of all the men i' th' world
- I would have 'voided thee; but in mere spite,
- To be full quit of those my banishers,
- Stand I before thee here. Then if thou hast
- A heart of wreak in thee, that wilt revenge
- Thine own particular wrongs and stop those maims
- Of shame seen through thy country, speed thee straight
- And make my misery serve thy turn. So use it
- That my revengeful services may prove
- As benefits to thee; for I will fight
- Against my cank'red country with the spleen
- Of all the under fiends. But if so be
- Thou dar'st not this, and that to prove more fortunes
- Th'art tir'd, then, in a word, I also am
- Longer to live most weary, and present
- My throat to thee and to thy ancient malice;
- Which not to cut would show thee but a fool,
- Since I have ever followed thee with hate,
- Drawn tuns of blood out of thy country's breast,
- And cannot live but to thy shame, unless
- It be to do thee service.
- AUFIDIUS. O Marcius, Marcius!
- Each word thou hast spoke hath weeded from my heart
- A root of ancient envy. If Jupiter
- Should from yond cloud speak divine things,
- And say ''Tis true,' I'd not believe them more
- Than thee, all noble Marcius. Let me twine
- Mine arms about that body, where against
- My grained ash an hundred times hath broke
- And scarr'd the moon with splinters; here I clip
- The anvil of my sword, and do contest
- As hotly and as nobly with thy love
- As ever in ambitious strength I did
- Contend against thy valour. Know thou first,
- I lov'd the maid I married; never man
- Sigh'd truer breath; but that I see thee here,
- Thou noble thing, more dances my rapt heart
- Than when I first my wedded mistress saw
- Bestride my threshold. Why, thou Mars, I tell the
- We have a power on foot, and I had purpose
- Once more to hew thy target from thy brawn,
- Or lose mine arm for't. Thou hast beat me out
- Twelve several times, and I have nightly since
- Dreamt of encounters 'twixt thyself and me-
- We have been down together in my sleep,
- Unbuckling helms, fisting each other's throat-
- And wak'd half dead with nothing. Worthy Marcius,
- Had we no other quarrel else to Rome but that
- Thou art thence banish'd, we would muster all
- From twelve to seventy, and, pouring war
- Into the bowels of ungrateful Rome,
- Like a bold flood o'erbeat. O, come, go in,
- And take our friendly senators by th' hands,
- Who now are here, taking their leaves of me
- Who am prepar'd against your territories,
- Though not for Rome itself.
- CORIOLANUS. You bless me, gods!
- AUFIDIUS. Therefore, most. absolute sir, if thou wilt have
- The leading of thine own revenges, take
- Th' one half of my commission, and set down-
- As best thou art experienc'd, since thou know'st
- Thy country's strength and weakness- thine own ways,
- Whether to knock against the gates of Rome,
- Or rudely visit them in parts remote
- To fright them ere destroy. But come in;
- Let me commend thee first to those that shall
- Say yea to thy desires. A thousand welcomes!
- And more a friend than e'er an enemy;
- Yet, Marcius, that was much. Your hand; most welcome!
- Exeunt CORIOLANUS and AUFIDIUS
-
- The two SERVINGMEN come forward
-
- FIRST SERVANT. Here's a strange alteration!
- SECOND SERVANT. By my hand, I had thought to have strucken him with
- a cudgel; and yet my mind gave me his clothes made a false report
- of him.
- FIRST SERVANT. What an arm he has! He turn'd me about with his
- finger and his thumb, as one would set up a top.
- SECOND SERVANT. Nay, I knew by his face that there was something in
- him; he had, sir, a kind of face, methought- I cannot tell how to
- term it.
- FIRST SERVANT. He had so, looking as it were- Would I were hang'd,
- but I thought there was more in him than I could think.
- SECOND SERVANT. So did I, I'll be sworn. He is simply the rarest
- man i' th' world.
- FIRST SERVANT. I think he is; but a greater soldier than he you wot
- on.
- SECOND SERVANT. Who, my master?
- FIRST SERVANT. Nay, it's no matter for that.
- SECOND SERVANT. Worth six on him.
- FIRST SERVANT. Nay, not so neither; but I take him to be the
- greater soldier.
- SECOND SERVANT. Faith, look you, one cannot tell how to say that;
- for the defence of a town our general is excellent.
- FIRST SERVANT. Ay, and for an assault too.
-
- Re-enter the third SERVINGMAN
-
- THIRD SERVANT. O slaves, I can tell you news- news, you rascals!
- BOTH. What, what, what? Let's partake.
- THIRD SERVANT. I would not be a Roman, of all nations;
- I had as lief be a condemn'd man.
- BOTH. Wherefore? wherefore?
- THIRD SERVANT. Why, here's he that was wont to thwack our general-
- Caius Marcius.
- FIRST SERVANT. Why do you say 'thwack our general'?
- THIRD SERVANT. I do not say 'thwack our general,' but he was always
- good enough for him.
- SECOND SERVANT. Come, we are fellows and friends. He was ever too
- hard for him, I have heard him say so himself.
- FIRST SERVANT. He was too hard for him directly, to say the troth
- on't; before Corioli he scotch'd him and notch'd him like a
- carbonado.
- SECOND SERVANT. An he had been cannibally given, he might have
- broil'd and eaten him too.
- FIRST SERVANT. But more of thy news!
- THIRD SERVANT. Why, he is so made on here within as if he were son
- and heir to Mars; set at upper end o' th' table; no question
- asked him by any of the senators but they stand bald before him.
- Our general himself makes a mistress of him, sanctifies himself
- with's hand, and turns up the white o' th' eye to his discourse.
- But the bottom of the news is, our general is cut i' th' middle
- and but one half of what he was yesterday, for the other has half
- by the entreaty and grant of the whole table. He'll go, he says,
- and sowl the porter of Rome gates by th' ears; he will mow all
- down before him, and leave his passage poll'd.
- SECOND SERVANT. And he's as like to do't as any man I can imagine.
- THIRD SERVANT. Do't! He will do't; for look you, sir, he has as
- many friends as enemies; which friends, sir, as it were, durst
- not- look you, sir- show themselves, as we term it, his friends,
- whilst he's in directitude.
- FIRST SERVANT. Directitude? What's that?
- THIRD SERVANT. But when they shall see, sir, his crest up again and
- the man in blood, they will out of their burrows, like conies
- after rain, and revel an with him.
- FIRST SERVANT. But when goes this forward?
- THIRD SERVANT. To-morrow, to-day, presently. You shall have the
- drum struck up this afternoon; 'tis as it were parcel of their
- feast, and to be executed ere they wipe their lips.
- SECOND SERVANT. Why, then we shall have a stirring world again.
- This peace is nothing but to rust iron, increase tailors, and
- breed ballad-makers.
- FIRST SERVANT. Let me have war, say I; it exceeds peace as far as
- day does night; it's spritely, waking, audible, and full of vent.
- Peace is a very apoplexy, lethargy; mull'd, deaf, sleepy,
- insensible; a getter of more bastard children than war's a
- destroyer of men.
- SECOND SERVANT. 'Tis so; and as war in some sort may be said to be
- a ravisher, so it cannot be denied but peace is a great maker of
- cuckolds.
- FIRST SERVANT. Ay, and it makes men hate one another.
- THIRD SERVANT. Reason: because they then less need one another. The
- wars for my money. I hope to see Romans as cheap as Volscians.
- They are rising, they are rising.
- BOTH. In, in, in, in! Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE VI.
-Rome. A public place
-
-Enter the two Tribunes, SICINIUS and BRUTUS
-
- SICINIUS. We hear not of him, neither need we fear him.
- His remedies are tame. The present peace
- And quietness of the people, which before
- Were in wild hurry, here do make his friends
- Blush that the world goes well; who rather had,
- Though they themselves did suffer by't, behold
- Dissentious numbers pest'ring streets than see
- Our tradesmen singing in their shops, and going
- About their functions friendly.
-
- Enter MENENIUS
-
- BRUTUS. We stood to't in good time. Is this Menenius?
- SICINIUS. 'Tis he, 'tis he. O, he is grown most kind
- Of late. Hail, sir!
- MENENIUS. Hail to you both!
- SICINIUS. Your Coriolanus is not much miss'd
- But with his friends. The commonwealth doth stand,
- And so would do, were he more angry at it.
- MENENIUS. All's well, and might have been much better
- He could have temporiz'd.
- SICINIUS. Where is he, hear you?
- MENENIUS. Nay, I hear nothing; his mother and his wife
- Hear nothing from him.
-
- Enter three or four citizens
-
- CITIZENS. The gods preserve you both!
- SICINIUS. God-den, our neighbours.
- BRUTUS. God-den to you all, god-den to you an.
- FIRST CITIZEN. Ourselves, our wives, and children, on our knees
- Are bound to pray for you both.
- SICINIUS. Live and thrive!
- BRUTUS. Farewell, kind neighbours; we wish'd Coriolanus
- Had lov'd you as we did.
- CITIZENS. Now the gods keep you!
- BOTH TRIBUNES. Farewell, farewell. Exeunt citizens
- SICINIUS. This is a happier and more comely time
- Than when these fellows ran about the streets
- Crying confusion.
- BRUTUS. Caius Marcius was
- A worthy officer i' the war, but insolent,
- O'ercome with pride, ambitious past all thinking,
- Self-loving-
- SICINIUS. And affecting one sole throne,
- Without assistance.
- MENENIUS. I think not so.
- SICINIUS. We should by this, to all our lamentation,
- If he had gone forth consul, found it so.
- BRUTUS. The gods have well prevented it, and Rome
- Sits safe and still without him.
-
- Enter an AEDILE
-
- AEDILE. Worthy tribunes,
- There is a slave, whom we have put in prison,
- Reports the Volsces with several powers
- Are ent'red in the Roman territories,
- And with the deepest malice of the war
- Destroy what lies before 'em.
- MENENIUS. 'Tis Aufidius,
- Who, hearing of our Marcius' banishment,
- Thrusts forth his horns again into the world,
- Which were inshell'd when Marcius stood for Rome,
- And durst not once peep out.
- SICINIUS. Come, what talk you of Marcius?
- BRUTUS. Go see this rumourer whipp'd. It cannot be
- The Volsces dare break with us.
- MENENIUS. Cannot be!
- We have record that very well it can;
- And three examples of the like hath been
- Within my age. But reason with the fellow
- Before you punish him, where he heard this,
- Lest you shall chance to whip your information
- And beat the messenger who bids beware
- Of what is to be dreaded.
- SICINIUS. Tell not me.
- I know this cannot be.
- BRUTUS. Not Possible.
-
- Enter A MESSENGER
-
- MESSENGER. The nobles in great earnestness are going
- All to the Senate House; some news is come
- That turns their countenances.
- SICINIUS. 'Tis this slave-
- Go whip him fore the people's eyes- his raising,
- Nothing but his report.
- MESSENGER. Yes, worthy sir,
- The slave's report is seconded, and more,
- More fearful, is deliver'd.
- SICINIUS. What more fearful?
- MESSENGER. It is spoke freely out of many mouths-
- How probable I do not know- that Marcius,
- Join'd with Aufidius, leads a power 'gainst Rome,
- And vows revenge as spacious as between
- The young'st and oldest thing.
- SICINIUS. This is most likely!
- BRUTUS. Rais'd only that the weaker sort may wish
- Good Marcius home again.
- SICINIUS. The very trick on 't.
- MENENIUS. This is unlikely.
- He and Aufidius can no more atone
- Than violent'st contrariety.
-
- Enter a second MESSENGER
-
- SECOND MESSENGER. You are sent for to the Senate.
- A fearful army, led by Caius Marcius
- Associated with Aufidius, rages
- Upon our territories, and have already
- O'erborne their way, consum'd with fire and took
- What lay before them.
-
- Enter COMINIUS
-
- COMINIUS. O, you have made good work!
- MENENIUS. What news? what news?
- COMINIUS. You have holp to ravish your own daughters and
- To melt the city leads upon your pates,
- To see your wives dishonour'd to your noses-
- MENENIUS. What's the news? What's the news?
- COMINIUS. Your temples burned in their cement, and
- Your franchises, whereon you stood, confin'd
- Into an auger's bore.
- MENENIUS. Pray now, your news?
- You have made fair work, I fear me. Pray, your news.
- If Marcius should be join'd wi' th' Volscians-
- COMINIUS. If!
- He is their god; he leads them like a thing
- Made by some other deity than Nature,
- That shapes man better; and they follow him
- Against us brats with no less confidence
- Than boys pursuing summer butterflies,
- Or butchers killing flies.
- MENENIUS. You have made good work,
- You and your apron men; you that stood so much
- Upon the voice of occupation and
- The breath of garlic-eaters!
- COMINIUS. He'll shake
- Your Rome about your ears.
- MENENIUS. As Hercules
- Did shake down mellow fruit. You have made fair work!
- BRUTUS. But is this true, sir?
- COMINIUS. Ay; and you'll look pale
- Before you find it other. All the regions
- Do smilingly revolt, and who resists
- Are mock'd for valiant ignorance,
- And perish constant fools. Who is't can blame him?
- Your enemies and his find something in him.
- MENENIUS. We are all undone unless
- The noble man have mercy.
- COMINIUS. Who shall ask it?
- The tribunes cannot do't for shame; the people
- Deserve such pity of him as the wolf
- Does of the shepherds; for his best friends, if they
- Should say 'Be good to Rome'- they charg'd him even
- As those should do that had deserv'd his hate,
- And therein show'd fike enemies.
- MENENIUS. 'Tis true;
- If he were putting to my house the brand
- That should consume it, I have not the face
- To say 'Beseech you, cease.' You have made fair hands,
- You and your crafts! You have crafted fair!
- COMINIUS. You have brought
- A trembling upon Rome, such as was never
- S' incapable of help.
- BOTH TRIBUNES. Say not we brought it.
- MENENIUS. How! Was't we? We lov'd him, but, like beasts
- And cowardly nobles, gave way unto your clusters,
- Who did hoot him out o' th' city.
- COMINIUS. But I fear
- They'll roar him in again. Tullus Aufidius,
- The second name of men, obeys his points
- As if he were his officer. Desperation
- Is all the policy, strength, and defence,
- That Rome can make against them.
-
- Enter a troop of citizens
-
- MENENIUS. Here comes the clusters.
- And is Aufidius with him? You are they
- That made the air unwholesome when you cast
- Your stinking greasy caps in hooting at
- Coriolanus' exile. Now he's coming,
- And not a hair upon a soldier's head
- Which will not prove a whip; as many coxcombs
- As you threw caps up will he tumble down,
- And pay you for your voices. 'Tis no matter;
- If he could burn us all into one coal
- We have deserv'd it.
- PLEBEIANS. Faith, we hear fearful news.
- FIRST CITIZEN. For mine own part,
- When I said banish him, I said 'twas pity.
- SECOND CITIZEN. And so did I.
- THIRD CITIZEN. And so did I; and, to say the truth, so did very
- many of us. That we did, we did for the best; and though we
- willingly consented to his banishment, yet it was against our
- will.
- COMINIUS. Y'are goodly things, you voices!
- MENENIUS. You have made
- Good work, you and your cry! Shall's to the Capitol?
- COMINIUS. O, ay, what else?
- Exeunt COMINIUS and MENENIUS
- SICINIUS. Go, masters, get you be not dismay'd;
- These are a side that would be glad to have
- This true which they so seem to fear. Go home,
- And show no sign of fear.
- FIRST CITIZEN. The gods be good to us! Come, masters, let's home. I
- ever said we were i' th' wrong when we banish'd him.
- SECOND CITIZEN. So did we all. But come, let's home.
- Exeunt citizens
- BRUTUS. I do not like this news.
- SICINIUS. Nor I.
- BRUTUS. Let's to the Capitol. Would half my wealth
- Would buy this for a lie!
- SICINIUS. Pray let's go. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE VII.
-A camp at a short distance from Rome
-
-Enter AUFIDIUS with his LIEUTENANT
-
- AUFIDIUS. Do they still fly to th' Roman?
- LIEUTENANT. I do not know what witchcraft's in him, but
- Your soldiers use him as the grace fore meat,
- Their talk at table, and their thanks at end;
- And you are dark'ned in this action, sir,
- Even by your own.
- AUFIDIUS. I cannot help it now,
- Unless by using means I lame the foot
- Of our design. He bears himself more proudlier,
- Even to my person, than I thought he would
- When first I did embrace him; yet his nature
- In that's no changeling, and I must excuse
- What cannot be amended.
- LIEUTENANT. Yet I wish, sir-
- I mean, for your particular- you had not
- Join'd in commission with him, but either
- Had borne the action of yourself, or else
- To him had left it solely.
- AUFIDIUS. I understand thee well; and be thou sure,
- When he shall come to his account, he knows not
- What I can urge against him. Although it seems,
- And so he thinks, and is no less apparent
- To th' vulgar eye, that he bears all things fairly
- And shows good husbandry for the Volscian state,
- Fights dragon-like, and does achieve as soon
- As draw his sword; yet he hath left undone
- That which shall break his neck or hazard mine
- Whene'er we come to our account.
- LIEUTENANT. Sir, I beseech you, think you he'll carry Rome?
- AUFIDIUS. All places yield to him ere he sits down,
- And the nobility of Rome are his;
- The senators and patricians love him too.
- The tribunes are no soldiers, and their people
- Will be as rash in the repeal as hasty
- To expel him thence. I think he'll be to Rome
- As is the osprey to the fish, who takes it
- By sovereignty of nature. First he was
- A noble servant to them, but he could not
- Carry his honours even. Whether 'twas pride,
- Which out of daily fortune ever taints
- The happy man; whether defect of judgment,
- To fail in the disposing of those chances
- Which he was lord of; or whether nature,
- Not to be other than one thing, not moving
- From th' casque to th' cushion, but commanding peace
- Even with the same austerity and garb
- As he controll'd the war; but one of these-
- As he hath spices of them all- not all,
- For I dare so far free him- made him fear'd,
- So hated, and so banish'd. But he has a merit
- To choke it in the utt'rance. So our virtues
- Lie in th' interpretation of the time;
- And power, unto itself most commendable,
- Hath not a tomb so evident as a chair
- T' extol what it hath done.
- One fire drives out one fire; one nail, one nail;
- Rights by rights falter, strengths by strengths do fail.
- Come, let's away. When, Caius, Rome is thine,
- Thou art poor'st of all; then shortly art thou mine.
- Exeunt
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT V. SCENE I.
-Rome. A public place
-
-Enter MENENIUS, COMINIUS, SICINIUS and BRUTUS, the two Tribunes, with others
-
- MENENIUS. No, I'll not go. You hear what he hath said
- Which was sometime his general, who lov'd him
- In a most dear particular. He call'd me father;
- But what o' that? Go, you that banish'd him:
- A mile before his tent fall down, and knee
- The way into his mercy. Nay, if he coy'd
- To hear Cominius speak, I'll keep at home.
- COMINIUS. He would not seem to know me.
- MENENIUS. Do you hear?
- COMINIUS. Yet one time he did call me by my name.
- I urg'd our old acquaintance, and the drops
- That we have bled together. 'Coriolanus'
- He would not answer to; forbid all names;
- He was a kind of nothing, titleless,
- Till he had forg'd himself a name i' th' fire
- Of burning Rome.
- MENENIUS. Why, so! You have made good work.
- A pair of tribunes that have wrack'd for Rome
- To make coals cheap- a noble memory!
- COMINIUS. I minded him how royal 'twas to pardon
- When it was less expected; he replied,
- It was a bare petition of a state
- To one whom they had punish'd.
- MENENIUS. Very well.
- Could he say less?
- COMINIUS. I offer'd to awaken his regard
- For's private friends; his answer to me was,
- He could not stay to pick them in a pile
- Of noisome musty chaff. He said 'twas folly,
- For one poor grain or two, to leave unburnt
- And still to nose th' offence.
- MENENIUS. For one poor grain or two!
- I am one of those. His mother, wife, his child,
- And this brave fellow too- we are the grains:
- You are the musty chaff, and you are smelt
- Above the moon. We must be burnt for you.
- SICINIUS. Nay, pray be patient; if you refuse your aid
- In this so never-needed help, yet do not
- Upbraid's with our distress. But sure, if you
- Would be your country's pleader, your good tongue,
- More than the instant army we can make,
- Might stop our countryman.
- MENENIUS. No; I'll not meddle.
- SICINIUS. Pray you go to him.
- MENENIUS. What should I do?
- BRUTUS. Only make trial what your love can do
- For Rome, towards Marcius.
- MENENIUS. Well, and say that Marcius
- Return me, as Cominius is return'd,
- Unheard- what then?
- But as a discontented friend, grief-shot
- With his unkindness? Say't be so?
- SICINIUS. Yet your good will
- Must have that thanks from Rome after the measure
- As you intended well.
- MENENIUS. I'll undertake't;
- I think he'll hear me. Yet to bite his lip
- And hum at good Cominius much unhearts me.
- He was not taken well: he had not din'd;
- The veins unfill'd, our blood is cold, and then
- We pout upon the morning, are unapt
- To give or to forgive; but when we have stuff'd
- These pipes and these conveyances of our blood
- With wine and feeding, we have suppler souls
- Than in our priest-like fasts. Therefore I'll watch him
- Till he be dieted to my request,
- And then I'll set upon him.
- BRUTUS. You know the very road into his kindness
- And cannot lose your way.
- MENENIUS. Good faith, I'll prove him,
- Speed how it will. I shall ere long have knowledge
- Of my success. Exit
- COMINIUS. He'll never hear him.
- SICINIUS. Not?
- COMINIUS. I tell you he does sit in gold, his eye
- Red as 'twould burn Rome, and his injury
- The gaoler to his pity. I kneel'd before him;
- 'Twas very faintly he said 'Rise'; dismiss'd me
- Thus with his speechless hand. What he would do,
- He sent in writing after me; what he would not,
- Bound with an oath to yield to his conditions;
- So that all hope is vain,
- Unless his noble mother and his wife,
- Who, as I hear, mean to solicit him
- For mercy to his country. Therefore let's hence,
- And with our fair entreaties haste them on. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-The Volscian camp before Rome
-
-Enter MENENIUS to the WATCH on guard
-
- FIRST WATCH. Stay. Whence are you?
- SECOND WATCH. Stand, and go back.
- MENENIUS. You guard like men, 'tis well; but, by your leave,
- I am an officer of state and come
- To speak with Coriolanus.
- FIRST WATCH. From whence?
- MENENIUS. From Rome.
- FIRST WATCH. YOU may not pass; you must return. Our general
- Will no more hear from thence.
- SECOND WATCH. You'll see your Rome embrac'd with fire before
- You'll speak with Coriolanus.
- MENENIUS. Good my friends,
- If you have heard your general talk of Rome
- And of his friends there, it is lots to blanks
- My name hath touch'd your ears: it is Menenius.
- FIRST WATCH. Be it so; go back. The virtue of your name
- Is not here passable.
- MENENIUS. I tell thee, fellow,
- Thy general is my lover. I have been
- The book of his good acts whence men have read
- His fame unparallel'd haply amplified;
- For I have ever verified my friends-
- Of whom he's chief- with all the size that verity
- Would without lapsing suffer. Nay, sometimes,
- Like to a bowl upon a subtle ground,
- I have tumbled past the throw, and in his praise
- Have almost stamp'd the leasing; therefore, fellow,
- I must have leave to pass.
- FIRST WATCH. Faith, sir, if you had told as many lies in his behalf
- as you have uttered words in your own, you should not pass here;
- no, though it were as virtuous to lie as to live chastely.
- Therefore go back.
- MENENIUS. Prithee, fellow, remember my name is Menenius, always
- factionary on the party of your general.
- SECOND WATCH. Howsoever you have been his liar, as you say you
- have, I am one that, telling true under him, must say you cannot
- pass. Therefore go back.
- MENENIUS. Has he din'd, canst thou tell? For I would not speak with
- him till after dinner.
- FIRST WATCH. You are a Roman, are you?
- MENENIUS. I am as thy general is.
- FIRST WATCH. Then you should hate Rome, as he does. Can you, when
- you have push'd out your gates the very defender of them, and in
- a violent popular ignorance given your enemy your shield, think
- to front his revenges with the easy groans of old women, the
- virginal palms of your daughters, or with the palsied
- intercession of such a decay'd dotant as you seem to be? Can you
- think to blow out the intended fire your city is ready to flame
- in with such weak breath as this? No, you are deceiv'd; therefore
- back to Rome and prepare for your execution. You are condemn'd;
- our general has sworn you out of reprieve and pardon.
- MENENIUS. Sirrah, if thy captain knew I were here, he would use me
- with estimation.
- FIRST WATCH. Come, my captain knows you not.
- MENENIUS. I mean thy general.
- FIRST WATCH. My general cares not for you. Back, I say; go, lest I
- let forth your half pint of blood. Back- that's the utmost of
- your having. Back.
- MENENIUS. Nay, but fellow, fellow-
-
- Enter CORIOLANUS with AUFIDIUS
-
- CORIOLANUS. What's the matter?
- MENENIUS. Now, you companion, I'll say an errand for you; you shall
- know now that I am in estimation; you shall perceive that a Jack
- guardant cannot office me from my son Coriolanus. Guess but by my
- entertainment with him if thou stand'st not i' th' state of
- hanging, or of some death more long in spectatorship and crueller
- in suffering; behold now presently, and swoon for what's to come
- upon thee. The glorious gods sit in hourly synod about thy
- particular prosperity, and love thee no worse than thy old father
- Menenius does! O my son! my son! thou art preparing fire for us;
- look thee, here's water to quench it. I was hardly moved to come
- to thee; but being assured none but myself could move thee, I
- have been blown out of your gates with sighs, and conjure thee to
- pardon Rome and thy petitionary countrymen. The good gods assuage
- thy wrath, and turn the dregs of it upon this varlet here; this,
- who, like a block, hath denied my access to thee.
- CORIOLANUS. Away!
- MENENIUS. How! away!
- CORIOLANUS. Wife, mother, child, I know not. My affairs
- Are servanted to others. Though I owe
- My revenge properly, my remission lies
- In Volscian breasts. That we have been familiar,
- Ingrate forgetfulness shall poison rather
- Than pity note how much. Therefore be gone.
- Mine ears against your suits are stronger than
- Your gates against my force. Yet, for I lov'd thee,
- Take this along; I writ it for thy sake [Gives a letter]
- And would have sent it. Another word, Menenius,
- I will not hear thee speak. This man, Aufidius,
- Was my belov'd in Rome; yet thou behold'st.
- AUFIDIUS. You keep a constant temper.
- Exeunt CORIOLANUS and Aufidius
- FIRST WATCH. Now, sir, is your name Menenius?
- SECOND WATCH. 'Tis a spell, you see, of much power! You know the
- way home again.
- FIRST WATCH. Do you hear how we are shent for keeping your
- greatness back?
- SECOND WATCH. What cause, do you think, I have to swoon?
- MENENIUS. I neither care for th' world nor your general; for such
- things as you, I can scarce think there's any, y'are so slight.
- He that hath a will to die by himself fears it not from another.
- Let your general do his worst. For you, be that you are, long;
- and your misery increase with your age! I say to you, as I was
- said to: Away! Exit
- FIRST WATCH. A noble fellow, I warrant him.
- SECOND WATCH. The worthy fellow is our general; he's the rock, the
- oak not to be wind-shaken. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-The tent of CORIOLANUS
-
-Enter CORIOLANUS, AUFIDIUS, and others
-
- CORIOLANUS. We will before the walls of Rome to-morrow
- Set down our host. My partner in this action,
- You must report to th' Volscian lords how plainly
- I have borne this business.
- AUFIDIUS. Only their ends
- You have respected; stopp'd your ears against
- The general suit of Rome; never admitted
- A private whisper- no, not with such friends
- That thought them sure of you.
- CORIOLANUS. This last old man,
- Whom with crack'd heart I have sent to Rome,
- Lov'd me above the measure of a father;
- Nay, godded me indeed. Their latest refuge
- Was to send him; for whose old love I have-
- Though I show'd sourly to him- once more offer'd
- The first conditions, which they did refuse
- And cannot now accept. To grace him only,
- That thought he could do more, a very little
- I have yielded to; fresh embassies and suits,
- Nor from the state nor private friends, hereafter
- Will I lend ear to. [Shout within] Ha! what shout is this?
- Shall I be tempted to infringe my vow
- In the same time 'tis made? I will not.
-
- Enter, in mourning habits, VIRGILIA, VOLUMNIA, VALERIA,
- YOUNG MARCIUS, with attendants
-
- My wife comes foremost, then the honour'd mould
- Wherein this trunk was fram'd, and in her hand
- The grandchild to her blood. But out, affection!
- All bond and privilege of nature, break!
- Let it be virtuous to be obstinate.
- What is that curtsy worth? or those doves' eyes,
- Which can make gods forsworn? I melt, and am not
- Of stronger earth than others. My mother bows,
- As if Olympus to a molehill should
- In supplication nod; and my young boy
- Hath an aspect of intercession which
- Great nature cries 'Deny not.' Let the Volsces
- Plough Rome and harrow Italy; I'll never
- Be such a gosling to obey instinct, but stand
- As if a man were author of himself
- And knew no other kin.
- VIRGILIA. My lord and husband!
- CORIOLANUS. These eyes are not the same I wore in Rome.
- VIRGILIA. The sorrow that delivers us thus chang'd
- Makes you think so.
- CORIOLANUS. Like a dull actor now
- I have forgot my part and I am out,
- Even to a full disgrace. Best of my flesh,
- Forgive my tyranny; but do not say,
- For that, 'Forgive our Romans.' O, a kiss
- Long as my exile, sweet as my revenge!
- Now, by the jealous queen of heaven, that kiss
- I carried from thee, dear, and my true lip
- Hath virgin'd it e'er since. You gods! I prate,
- And the most noble mother of the world
- Leave unsaluted. Sink, my knee, i' th' earth; [Kneels]
- Of thy deep duty more impression show
- Than that of common sons.
- VOLUMNIA. O, stand up blest!
- Whilst with no softer cushion than the flint
- I kneel before thee, and unproperly
- Show duty, as mistaken all this while
- Between the child and parent. [Kneels]
- CORIOLANUS. What's this?
- Your knees to me, to your corrected son?
- Then let the pebbles on the hungry beach
- Fillip the stars; then let the mutinous winds
- Strike the proud cedars 'gainst the fiery sun,
- Murd'ring impossibility, to make
- What cannot be slight work.
- VOLUMNIA. Thou art my warrior;
- I holp to frame thee. Do you know this lady?
- CORIOLANUS. The noble sister of Publicola,
- The moon of Rome, chaste as the icicle
- That's curdied by the frost from purest snow,
- And hangs on Dian's temple- dear Valeria!
- VOLUMNIA. This is a poor epitome of yours,
- Which by th' interpretation of full time
- May show like all yourself.
- CORIOLANUS. The god of soldiers,
- With the consent of supreme Jove, inform
- Thy thoughts with nobleness, that thou mayst prove
- To shame unvulnerable, and stick i' th' wars
- Like a great sea-mark, standing every flaw,
- And saving those that eye thee!
- VOLUMNIA. Your knee, sirrah.
- CORIOLANUS. That's my brave boy.
- VOLUMNIA. Even he, your wife, this lady, and myself,
- Are suitors to you.
- CORIOLANUS. I beseech you, peace!
- Or, if you'd ask, remember this before:
- The thing I have forsworn to grant may never
- Be held by you denials. Do not bid me
- Dismiss my soldiers, or capitulate
- Again with Rome's mechanics. Tell me not
- Wherein I seem unnatural; desire not
- T'allay my rages and revenges with
- Your colder reasons.
- VOLUMNIA. O, no more, no more!
- You have said you will not grant us any thing-
- For we have nothing else to ask but that
- Which you deny already; yet we will ask,
- That, if you fail in our request, the blame
- May hang upon your hardness; therefore hear us.
- CORIOLANUS. Aufidius, and you Volsces, mark; for we'll
- Hear nought from Rome in private. Your request?
- VOLUMNIA. Should we be silent and not speak, our raiment
- And state of bodies would bewray what life
- We have led since thy exile. Think with thyself
- How more unfortunate than all living women
- Are we come hither; since that thy sight, which should
- Make our eyes flow with joy, hearts dance with comforts,
- Constrains them weep and shake with fear and sorrow,
- Making the mother, wife, and child, to see
- The son, the husband, and the father, tearing
- His country's bowels out. And to poor we
- Thine enmity's most capital: thou bar'st us
- Our prayers to the gods, which is a comfort
- That all but we enjoy. For how can we,
- Alas, how can we for our country pray,
- Whereto we are bound, together with thy victory,
- Whereto we are bound? Alack, or we must lose
- The country, our dear nurse, or else thy person,
- Our comfort in the country. We must find
- An evident calamity, though we had
- Our wish, which side should win; for either thou
- Must as a foreign recreant be led
- With manacles through our streets, or else
- Triumphantly tread on thy country's ruin,
- And bear the palm for having bravely shed
- Thy wife and children's blood. For myself, son,
- I purpose not to wait on fortune till
- These wars determine; if I can not persuade thee
- Rather to show a noble grace to both parts
- Than seek the end of one, thou shalt no sooner
- March to assault thy country than to tread-
- Trust to't, thou shalt not- on thy mother's womb
- That brought thee to this world.
- VIRGILIA. Ay, and mine,
- That brought you forth this boy to keep your name
- Living to time.
- BOY. 'A shall not tread on me!
- I'll run away till I am bigger, but then I'll fight.
- CORIOLANUS. Not of a woman's tenderness to be
- Requires nor child nor woman's face to see.
- I have sat too long. [Rising]
- VOLUMNIA. Nay, go not from us thus.
- If it were so that our request did tend
- To save the Romans, thereby to destroy
- The Volsces whom you serve, you might condemn us
- As poisonous of your honour. No, our suit
- Is that you reconcile them: while the Volsces
- May say 'This mercy we have show'd,' the Romans
- 'This we receiv'd,' and each in either side
- Give the all-hail to thee, and cry 'Be blest
- For making up this peace!' Thou know'st, great son,
- The end of war's uncertain; but this certain,
- That, if thou conquer Rome, the benefit
- Which thou shalt thereby reap is such a name
- Whose repetition will be dogg'd with curses;
- Whose chronicle thus writ: 'The man was noble,
- But with his last attempt he wip'd it out,
- Destroy'd his country, and his name remains
- To th' ensuing age abhorr'd.' Speak to me, son.
- Thou hast affected the fine strains of honour,
- To imitate the graces of the gods,
- To tear with thunder the wide cheeks o' th' air,
- And yet to charge thy sulphur with a bolt
- That should but rive an oak. Why dost not speak?
- Think'st thou it honourable for a noble man
- Still to remember wrongs? Daughter, speak you:
- He cares not for your weeping. Speak thou, boy;
- Perhaps thy childishness will move him more
- Than can our reasons. There's no man in the world
- More bound to's mother, yet here he lets me prate
- Like one i' th' stocks. Thou hast never in thy life
- Show'd thy dear mother any courtesy,
- When she, poor hen, fond of no second brood,
- Has cluck'd thee to the wars, and safely home
- Loaden with honour. Say my request's unjust,
- And spurn me back; but if it he not so,
- Thou art not honest, and the gods will plague thee,
- That thou restrain'st from me the duty which
- To a mother's part belongs. He turns away.
- Down, ladies; let us shame him with our knees.
- To his surname Coriolanus 'longs more pride
- Than pity to our prayers. Down. An end;
- This is the last. So we will home to Rome,
- And die among our neighbours. Nay, behold's!
- This boy, that cannot tell what he would have
- But kneels and holds up hands for fellowship,
- Does reason our petition with more strength
- Than thou hast to deny't. Come, let us go.
- This fellow had a Volscian to his mother;
- His wife is in Corioli, and his child
- Like him by chance. Yet give us our dispatch.
- I am hush'd until our city be afire,
- And then I'll speak a little.
- [He holds her by the hand, silent]
- CORIOLANUS. O mother, mother!
- What have you done? Behold, the heavens do ope,
- The gods look down, and this unnatural scene
- They laugh at. O my mother, mother! O!
- You have won a happy victory to Rome;
- But for your son- believe it, O, believe it!-
- Most dangerously you have with him prevail'd,
- If not most mortal to him. But let it come.
- Aufidius, though I cannot make true wars,
- I'll frame convenient peace. Now, good Aufidius,
- Were you in my stead, would you have heard
- A mother less, or granted less, Aufidius?
- AUFIDIUS. I was mov'd withal.
- CORIOLANUS. I dare be sworn you were!
- And, sir, it is no little thing to make
- Mine eyes to sweat compassion. But, good sir,
- What peace you'fl make, advise me. For my part,
- I'll not to Rome, I'll back with you; and pray you
- Stand to me in this cause. O mother! wife!
- AUFIDIUS. [Aside] I am glad thou hast set thy mercy and thy
- honour
- At difference in thee. Out of that I'll work
- Myself a former fortune.
- CORIOLANUS. [To the ladies] Ay, by and by;
- But we will drink together; and you shall bear
- A better witness back than words, which we,
- On like conditions, will have counter-seal'd.
- Come, enter with us. Ladies, you deserve
- To have a temple built you. All the swords
- In Italy, and her confederate arms,
- Could not have made this peace. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE IV.
-Rome. A public place
-
-Enter MENENIUS and SICINIUS
-
- MENENIUS. See you yond coign o' th' Capitol, yond cornerstone?
- SICINIUS. Why, what of that?
- MENENIUS. If it be possible for you to displace it with your little
- finger, there is some hope the ladies of Rome, especially his
- mother, may prevail with him. But I say there is no hope in't;
- our throats are sentenc'd, and stay upon execution.
- SICINIUS. Is't possible that so short a time can alter the
- condition of a man?
- MENENIUS. There is differency between a grub and a butterfly; yet
- your butterfly was a grub. This Marcius is grown from man to
- dragon; he has wings, he's more than a creeping thing.
- SICINIUS. He lov'd his mother dearly.
- MENENIUS. So did he me; and he no more remembers his mother now
- than an eight-year-old horse. The tartness of his face sours ripe
- grapes; when he walks, he moves like an engine and the ground
- shrinks before his treading. He is able to pierce a corslet with
- his eye, talks like a knell, and his hum is a battery. He sits in
- his state as a thing made for Alexander. What he bids be done is
- finish'd with his bidding. He wants nothing of a god but
- eternity, and a heaven to throne in.
- SICINIUS. Yes- mercy, if you report him truly.
- MENENIUS. I paint him in the character. Mark what mercy his mother
- shall bring from him. There is no more mercy in him than there is
- milk in a male tiger; that shall our poor city find. And all this
- is 'long of you.
- SICINIUS. The gods be good unto us!
- MENENIUS. No, in such a case the gods will not be good unto us.
- When we banish'd him we respected not them; and, he returning to
- break our necks, they respect not us.
-
- Enter a MESSENGER
-
- MESSENGER. Sir, if you'd save your life, fly to your house.
- The plebeians have got your fellow tribune
- And hale him up and down; all swearing if
- The Roman ladies bring not comfort home
- They'll give him death by inches.
-
- Enter another MESSENGER
-
- SICINIUS. What's the news?
- SECOND MESSENGER. Good news, good news! The ladies have prevail'd,
- The Volscians are dislodg'd, and Marcius gone.
- A merrier day did never yet greet Rome,
- No, not th' expulsion of the Tarquins.
- SICINIUS. Friend,
- Art thou certain this is true? Is't most certain?
- SECOND MESSENGER. As certain as I know the sun is fire.
- Where have you lurk'd, that you make doubt of it?
- Ne'er through an arch so hurried the blown tide
- As the recomforted through th' gates. Why, hark you!
- [Trumpets, hautboys, drums beat, all together]
- The trumpets, sackbuts, psalteries, and fifes,
- Tabors and cymbals, and the shouting Romans,
- Make the sun dance. Hark you! [A shout within]
- MENENIUS. This is good news.
- I will go meet the ladies. This Volumnia
- Is worth of consuls, senators, patricians,
- A city full; of tribunes such as you,
- A sea and land full. You have pray'd well to-day:
- This morning for ten thousand of your throats
- I'd not have given a doit. Hark, how they joy!
- [Sound still with the shouts]
- SICINIUS. First, the gods bless you for your tidings; next,
- Accept my thankfulness.
- SECOND MESSENGER. Sir, we have all
- Great cause to give great thanks.
- SICINIUS. They are near the city?
- MESSENGER. Almost at point to enter.
- SICINIUS. We'll meet them,
- And help the joy. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE V.
-Rome. A street near the gate
-
-Enter two SENATORS With VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, VALERIA, passing over the stage,
-'With other LORDS
-
- FIRST SENATOR. Behold our patroness, the life of Rome!
- Call all your tribes together, praise the gods,
- And make triumphant fires; strew flowers before them.
- Unshout the noise that banish'd Marcius,
- Repeal him with the welcome of his mother;
- ALL. Welcome, ladies, welcome!
- [A flourish with drums and trumpets. Exeunt]
-
-
-
-
-SCENE VI.
-Corioli. A public place
-
-Enter TULLUS AUFIDIUS with attendents
-
- AUFIDIUS. Go tell the lords o' th' city I am here;
- Deliver them this paper' having read it,
- Bid them repair to th' market-place, where I,
- Even in theirs and in the commons' ears,
- Will vouch the truth of it. Him I accuse
- The city ports by this hath enter'd and
- Intends t' appear before the people, hoping
- To purge himself with words. Dispatch.
- Exeunt attendants
-
- Enter three or four CONSPIRATORS of AUFIDIUS' faction
-
- Most welcome!
- FIRST CONSPIRATOR. How is it with our general?
- AUFIDIUS. Even so
- As with a man by his own alms empoison'd,
- And with his charity slain.
- SECOND CONSPIRATOR. Most noble sir,
- If you do hold the same intent wherein
- You wish'd us parties, we'll deliver you
- Of your great danger.
- AUFIDIUS. Sir, I cannot tell;
- We must proceed as we do find the people.
- THIRD CONSPIRATOR. The people will remain uncertain whilst
- 'Twixt you there's difference; but the fall of either
- Makes the survivor heir of all.
- AUFIDIUS. I know it;
- And my pretext to strike at him admits
- A good construction. I rais'd him, and I pawn'd
- Mine honour for his truth; who being so heighten'd,
- He watered his new plants with dews of flattery,
- Seducing so my friends; and to this end
- He bow'd his nature, never known before
- But to be rough, unswayable, and free.
- THIRD CONSPIRATOR. Sir, his stoutness
- When he did stand for consul, which he lost
- By lack of stooping-
- AUFIDIUS. That I would have spoken of.
- Being banish'd for't, he came unto my hearth,
- Presented to my knife his throat. I took him;
- Made him joint-servant with me; gave him way
- In all his own desires; nay, let him choose
- Out of my files, his projects to accomplish,
- My best and freshest men; serv'd his designments
- In mine own person; holp to reap the fame
- Which he did end all his, and took some pride
- To do myself this wrong. Till, at the last,
- I seem'd his follower, not partner; and
- He wag'd me with his countenance as if
- I had been mercenary.
- FIRST CONSPIRATOR. So he did, my lord.
- The army marvell'd at it; and, in the last,
- When he had carried Rome and that we look'd
- For no less spoil than glory-
- AUFIDIUS. There was it;
- For which my sinews shall be stretch'd upon him.
- At a few drops of women's rheum, which are
- As cheap as lies, he sold the blood and labour
- Of our great action; therefore shall he die,
- And I'll renew me in his fall. But, hark!
- [Drums and
- trumpets sound, with great shouts of the people]
- FIRST CONSPIRATOR. Your native town you enter'd like a post,
- And had no welcomes home; but he returns
- Splitting the air with noise.
- SECOND CONSPIRATOR. And patient fools,
- Whose children he hath slain, their base throats tear
- With giving him glory.
- THIRD CONSPIRATOR. Therefore, at your vantage,
- Ere he express himself or move the people
- With what he would say, let him feel your sword,
- Which we will second. When he lies along,
- After your way his tale pronounc'd shall bury
- His reasons with his body.
- AUFIDIUS. Say no more:
- Here come the lords.
-
- Enter the LORDS of the city
-
- LORDS. You are most welcome home.
- AUFIDIUS. I have not deserv'd it.
- But, worthy lords, have you with heed perused
- What I have written to you?
- LORDS. We have.
- FIRST LORD. And grieve to hear't.
- What faults he made before the last, I think
- Might have found easy fines; but there to end
- Where he was to begin, and give away
- The benefit of our levies, answering us
- With our own charge, making a treaty where
- There was a yielding- this admits no excuse.
- AUFIDIUS. He approaches; you shall hear him.
-
- Enter CORIOLANUS, marching with drum and colours;
- the commoners being with him
-
- CORIOLANUS. Hail, lords! I am return'd your soldier;
- No more infected with my country's love
- Than when I parted hence, but still subsisting
- Under your great command. You are to know
- That prosperously I have attempted, and
- With bloody passage led your wars even to
- The gates of Rome. Our spoils we have brought home
- Doth more than counterpoise a full third part
- The charges of the action. We have made peace
- With no less honour to the Antiates
- Than shame to th' Romans; and we here deliver,
- Subscrib'd by th' consuls and patricians,
- Together with the seal o' th' Senate, what
- We have compounded on.
- AUFIDIUS. Read it not, noble lords;
- But tell the traitor in the highest degree
- He hath abus'd your powers.
- CORIOLANUS. Traitor! How now?
- AUFIDIUS. Ay, traitor, Marcius.
- CORIOLANUS. Marcius!
- AUFIDIUS. Ay, Marcius, Caius Marcius! Dost thou think
- I'll grace thee with that robbery, thy stol'n name
- Coriolanus, in Corioli?
- You lords and heads o' th' state, perfidiously
- He has betray'd your business and given up,
- For certain drops of salt, your city Rome-
- I say your city- to his wife and mother;
- Breaking his oath and resolution like
- A twist of rotten silk; never admitting
- Counsel o' th' war; but at his nurse's tears
- He whin'd and roar'd away your victory,
- That pages blush'd at him, and men of heart
- Look'd wond'ring each at others.
- CORIOLANUS. Hear'st thou, Mars?
- AUFIDIUS. Name not the god, thou boy of tears-
- CORIOLANUS. Ha!
- AUFIDIUS. -no more.
- CORIOLANUS. Measureless liar, thou hast made my heart
- Too great for what contains it. 'Boy'! O slave!
- Pardon me, lords, 'tis the first time that ever
- I was forc'd to scold. Your judgments, my grave lords,
- Must give this cur the lie; and his own notion-
- Who wears my stripes impress'd upon him, that
- Must bear my beating to his grave- shall join
- To thrust the lie unto him.
- FIRST LORD. Peace, both, and hear me speak.
- CORIOLANUS. Cut me to pieces, Volsces; men and lads,
- Stain all your edges on me. 'Boy'! False hound!
- If you have writ your annals true, 'tis there
- That, like an eagle in a dove-cote, I
- Flutter'd your Volscians in Corioli.
- Alone I did it. 'Boy'!
- AUFIDIUS. Why, noble lords,
- Will you be put in mind of his blind fortune,
- Which was your shame, by this unholy braggart,
- Fore your own eyes and ears?
- CONSPIRATORS. Let him die for't.
- ALL THE PEOPLE. Tear him to pieces. Do it presently. He kill'd my
- son. My daughter. He kill'd my cousin Marcus. He kill'd my
- father.
- SECOND LORD. Peace, ho! No outrage- peace!
- The man is noble, and his fame folds in
- This orb o' th' earth. His last offences to us
- Shall have judicious hearing. Stand, Aufidius,
- And trouble not the peace.
- CORIOLANUS. O that I had him,
- With six Aufidiuses, or more- his tribe,
- To use my lawful sword!
- AUFIDIUS. Insolent villain!
- CONSPIRATORS. Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill him!
- [The CONSPIRATORS draw and kill CORIOLANUS,who falls.
- AUFIDIUS stands on him]
- LORDS. Hold, hold, hold, hold!
- AUFIDIUS. My noble masters, hear me speak.
- FIRST LORD. O Tullus!
- SECOND LORD. Thou hast done a deed whereat valour will weep.
- THIRD LORD. Tread not upon him. Masters all, be quiet;
- Put up your swords.
- AUFIDIUS. My lords, when you shall know- as in this rage,
- Provok'd by him, you cannot- the great danger
- Which this man's life did owe you, you'll rejoice
- That he is thus cut off. Please it your honours
- To call me to your Senate, I'll deliver
- Myself your loyal servant, or endure
- Your heaviest censure.
- FIRST LORD. Bear from hence his body,
- And mourn you for him. Let him be regarded
- As the most noble corse that ever herald
- Did follow to his um.
- SECOND LORD. His own impatience
- Takes from Aufidius a great part of blame.
- Let's make the best of it.
- AUFIDIUS. My rage is gone,
- And I am struck with sorrow. Take him up.
- Help, three o' th' chiefest soldiers; I'll be one.
- Beat thou the drum, that it speak mournfully;
- Trail your steel pikes. Though in this city he
- Hath widowed and unchilded many a one,
- Which to this hour bewail the injury,
- Yet he shall have a noble memory.
- Assist. Exeunt, bearing the body of CORIOLANUS
- [A dead march sounded]
-
-
-THE END
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-
-
-1609
-
-CYMBELINE
-
-by William Shakespeare
-
-
-
-Dramatis Personae
-
- CYMBELINE, King of Britain
- CLOTEN, son to the Queen by a former husband
- POSTHUMUS LEONATUS, a gentleman, husband to Imogen
- BELARIUS, a banished lord, disguised under the name of Morgan
-
- GUIDERIUS and ARVIRAGUS, sons to Cymbeline, disguised under the
- names of POLYDORE and CADWAL, supposed sons to Belarius
- PHILARIO, Italian, friend to Posthumus
- IACHIMO, Italian, friend to Philario
- A FRENCH GENTLEMAN, friend to Philario
- CAIUS LUCIUS, General of the Roman Forces
- A ROMAN CAPTAIN
- TWO BRITISH CAPTAINS
- PISANIO, servant to Posthumus
- CORNELIUS, a physician
- TWO LORDS of Cymbeline's court
- TWO GENTLEMEN of the same
- TWO GAOLERS
-
- QUEEN, wife to Cymbeline
- IMOGEN, daughter to Cymbeline by a former queen
- HELEN, a lady attending on Imogen
-
- APPARITIONS
-
- Lords, Ladies, Roman Senators, Tribunes, a Soothsayer, a
- Dutch Gentleman, a Spanish Gentleman, Musicians, Officers,
- Captains, Soldiers, Messengers, and Attendants
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-
-SCENE:
-Britain; Italy
-
-
-
-ACT I. SCENE I.
-Britain. The garden of CYMBELINE'S palace
-
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. You do not meet a man but frowns; our bloods
- No more obey the heavens than our courtiers
- Still seem as does the King's.
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. But what's the matter?
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. His daughter, and the heir of's kingdom, whom
- He purpos'd to his wife's sole son- a widow
- That late he married- hath referr'd herself
- Unto a poor but worthy gentleman. She's wedded;
- Her husband banish'd; she imprison'd. All
- Is outward sorrow, though I think the King
- Be touch'd at very heart.
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. None but the King?
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. He that hath lost her too. So is the Queen,
- That most desir'd the match. But not a courtier,
- Although they wear their faces to the bent
- Of the King's looks, hath a heart that is not
- Glad at the thing they scowl at.
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. And why so?
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. He that hath miss'd the Princess is a thing
- Too bad for bad report; and he that hath her-
- I mean that married her, alack, good man!
- And therefore banish'd- is a creature such
- As, to seek through the regions of the earth
- For one his like, there would be something failing
- In him that should compare. I do not think
- So fair an outward and such stuff within
- Endows a man but he.
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. You speak him far.
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. I do extend him, sir, within himself;
- Crush him together rather than unfold
- His measure duly.
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. What's his name and birth?
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. I cannot delve him to the root; his father
- Was call'd Sicilius, who did join his honour
- Against the Romans with Cassibelan,
- But had his titles by Tenantius, whom
- He serv'd with glory and admir'd success,
- So gain'd the sur-addition Leonatus;
- And had, besides this gentleman in question,
- Two other sons, who, in the wars o' th' time,
- Died with their swords in hand; for which their father,
- Then old and fond of issue, took such sorrow
- That he quit being; and his gentle lady,
- Big of this gentleman, our theme, deceas'd
- As he was born. The King he takes the babe
- To his protection, calls him Posthumus Leonatus,
- Breeds him and makes him of his bed-chamber,
- Puts to him all the learnings that his time
- Could make him the receiver of; which he took,
- As we do air, fast as 'twas minist'red,
- And in's spring became a harvest, liv'd in court-
- Which rare it is to do- most prais'd, most lov'd,
- A sample to the youngest; to th' more mature
- A glass that feated them; and to the graver
- A child that guided dotards. To his mistress,
- For whom he now is banish'd- her own price
- Proclaims how she esteem'd him and his virtue;
- By her election may be truly read
- What kind of man he is.
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. I honour him
- Even out of your report. But pray you tell me,
- Is she sole child to th' King?
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. His only child.
- He had two sons- if this be worth your hearing,
- Mark it- the eldest of them at three years old,
- I' th' swathing clothes the other, from their nursery
- Were stol'n; and to this hour no guess in knowledge
- Which way they went.
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. How long is this ago?
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. Some twenty years.
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. That a king's children should be so convey'd,
- So slackly guarded, and the search so slow
- That could not trace them!
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. Howsoe'er 'tis strange,
- Or that the negligence may well be laugh'd at,
- Yet is it true, sir.
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. I do well believe you.
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. We must forbear; here comes the gentleman,
- The Queen, and Princess. Exeunt
-
- Enter the QUEEN, POSTHUMUS, and IMOGEN
-
- QUEEN. No, be assur'd you shall not find me, daughter,
- After the slander of most stepmothers,
- Evil-ey'd unto you. You're my prisoner, but
- Your gaoler shall deliver you the keys
- That lock up your restraint. For you, Posthumus,
- So soon as I can win th' offended King,
- I will be known your advocate. Marry, yet
- The fire of rage is in him, and 'twere good
- You lean'd unto his sentence with what patience
- Your wisdom may inform you.
- POSTHUMUS. Please your Highness,
- I will from hence to-day.
- QUEEN. You know the peril.
- I'll fetch a turn about the garden, pitying
- The pangs of barr'd affections, though the King
- Hath charg'd you should not speak together. Exit
- IMOGEN. O dissembling courtesy! How fine this tyrant
- Can tickle where she wounds! My dearest husband,
- I something fear my father's wrath, but nothing-
- Always reserv'd my holy duty- what
- His rage can do on me. You must be gone;
- And I shall here abide the hourly shot
- Of angry eyes, not comforted to live
- But that there is this jewel in the world
- That I may see again.
- POSTHUMUS. My queen! my mistress!
- O lady, weep no more, lest I give cause
- To be suspected of more tenderness
- Than doth become a man. I will remain
- The loyal'st husband that did e'er plight troth;
- My residence in Rome at one Philario's,
- Who to my father was a friend, to me
- Known but by letter; thither write, my queen,
- And with mine eyes I'll drink the words you send,
- Though ink be made of gall.
-
- Re-enter QUEEN
-
- QUEEN. Be brief, I pray you.
- If the King come, I shall incur I know not
- How much of his displeasure. [Aside] Yet I'll move him
- To walk this way. I never do him wrong
- But he does buy my injuries, to be friends;
- Pays dear for my offences. Exit
- POSTHUMUS. Should we be taking leave
- As long a term as yet we have to live,
- The loathness to depart would grow. Adieu!
- IMOGEN. Nay, stay a little.
- Were you but riding forth to air yourself,
- Such parting were too petty. Look here, love:
- This diamond was my mother's; take it, heart;
- But keep it till you woo another wife,
- When Imogen is dead.
- POSTHUMUS. How, how? Another?
- You gentle gods, give me but this I have,
- And sear up my embracements from a next
- With bonds of death! Remain, remain thou here
- [Puts on the ring]
- While sense can keep it on. And, sweetest, fairest,
- As I my poor self did exchange for you,
- To your so infinite loss, so in our trifles
- I still win of you. For my sake wear this;
- It is a manacle of love; I'll place it
- Upon this fairest prisoner. [Puts a bracelet on her arm]
- IMOGEN. O the gods!
- When shall we see again?
-
- Enter CYMBELINE and LORDS
-
- POSTHUMUS. Alack, the King!
- CYMBELINE. Thou basest thing, avoid; hence from my sight
- If after this command thou fraught the court
- With thy unworthiness, thou diest. Away!
- Thou'rt poison to my blood.
- POSTHUMUS. The gods protect you,
- And bless the good remainders of the court!
- I am gone. Exit
- IMOGEN. There cannot be a pinch in death
- More sharp than this is.
- CYMBELINE. O disloyal thing,
- That shouldst repair my youth, thou heap'st
- A year's age on me!
- IMOGEN. I beseech you, sir,
- Harm not yourself with your vexation.
- I am senseless of your wrath; a touch more rare
- Subdues all pangs, all fears.
- CYMBELINE. Past grace? obedience?
- IMOGEN. Past hope, and in despair; that way past grace.
- CYMBELINE. That mightst have had the sole son of my queen!
- IMOGEN. O blessed that I might not! I chose an eagle,
- And did avoid a puttock.
- CYMBELINE. Thou took'st a beggar, wouldst have made my throne
- A seat for baseness.
- IMOGEN. No; I rather added
- A lustre to it.
- CYMBELINE. O thou vile one!
- IMOGEN. Sir,
- It is your fault that I have lov'd Posthumus.
- You bred him as my playfellow, and he is
- A man worth any woman; overbuys me
- Almost the sum he pays.
- CYMBELINE. What, art thou mad?
- IMOGEN. Almost, sir. Heaven restore me! Would I were
- A neat-herd's daughter, and my Leonatus
- Our neighbour shepherd's son!
-
- Re-enter QUEEN
-
- CYMBELINE. Thou foolish thing!
- [To the QUEEN] They were again together. You have done
- Not after our command. Away with her,
- And pen her up.
- QUEEN. Beseech your patience.- Peace,
- Dear lady daughter, peace!- Sweet sovereign,
- Leave us to ourselves, and make yourself some comfort
- Out of your best advice.
- CYMBELINE. Nay, let her languish
- A drop of blood a day and, being aged,
- Die of this folly. Exit, with LORDS
-
- Enter PISANIO
-
- QUEEN. Fie! you must give way.
- Here is your servant. How now, sir! What news?
- PISANIO. My lord your son drew on my master.
- QUEEN. Ha!
- No harm, I trust, is done?
- PISANIO. There might have been,
- But that my master rather play'd than fought,
- And had no help of anger; they were parted
- By gentlemen at hand.
- QUEEN. I am very glad on't.
- IMOGEN. Your son's my father's friend; he takes his part
- To draw upon an exile! O brave sir!
- I would they were in Afric both together;
- Myself by with a needle, that I might prick
- The goer-back. Why came you from your master?
- PISANIO. On his command. He would not suffer me
- To bring him to the haven; left these notes
- Of what commands I should be subject to,
- When't pleas'd you to employ me.
- QUEEN. This hath been
- Your faithful servant. I dare lay mine honour
- He will remain so.
- PISANIO. I humbly thank your Highness.
- QUEEN. Pray walk awhile.
- IMOGEN. About some half-hour hence,
- Pray you speak with me. You shall at least
- Go see my lord aboard. For this time leave me. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-Britain. A public place
-
-Enter CLOTEN and two LORDS
-
- FIRST LORD. Sir, I would advise you to shift a shirt; the violence
- of action hath made you reek as a sacrifice. Where air comes out,
- air comes in; there's none abroad so wholesome as that you vent.
- CLOTEN. If my shirt were bloody, then to shift it. Have I hurt him?
- SECOND LORD. [Aside] No, faith; not so much as his patience.
- FIRST LORD. Hurt him! His body's a passable carcass if he be not
- hurt. It is a throughfare for steel if it be not hurt.
- SECOND LORD. [Aside] His steel was in debt; it went o' th' back
- side the town.
- CLOTEN. The villain would not stand me.
- SECOND LORD. [Aside] No; but he fled forward still, toward your
- face.
- FIRST LORD. Stand you? You have land enough of your own; but he
- added to your having, gave you some ground.
- SECOND LORD. [Aside] As many inches as you have oceans.
- Puppies!
- CLOTEN. I would they had not come between us.
- SECOND LORD. [Aside] So would I, till you had measur'd how long a
- fool you were upon the ground.
- CLOTEN. And that she should love this fellow, and refuse me!
- SECOND LORD. [Aside] If it be a sin to make a true election, she is
- damn'd.
- FIRST LORD. Sir, as I told you always, her beauty and her brain go
- not together; she's a good sign, but I have seen small reflection
- of her wit.
- SECOND LORD. [Aside] She shines not upon fools, lest the reflection
- should hurt her.
- CLOTEN. Come, I'll to my chamber. Would there had been some hurt
- done!
- SECOND LORD. [Aside] I wish not so; unless it had been the fall of
- an ass, which is no great hurt.
- CLOTEN. You'll go with us?
- FIRST LORD. I'll attend your lordship.
- CLOTEN. Nay, come, let's go together.
- SECOND LORD. Well, my lord. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-Britain. CYMBELINE'S palace
-
-Enter IMOGEN and PISANIO
-
- IMOGEN. I would thou grew'st unto the shores o' th' haven,
- And questioned'st every sail; if he should write,
- And I not have it, 'twere a paper lost,
- As offer'd mercy is. What was the last
- That he spake to thee?
- PISANIO. It was: his queen, his queen!
- IMOGEN. Then wav'd his handkerchief?
- PISANIO. And kiss'd it, madam.
- IMOGEN. Senseless linen, happier therein than I!
- And that was all?
- PISANIO. No, madam; for so long
- As he could make me with his eye, or care
- Distinguish him from others, he did keep
- The deck, with glove, or hat, or handkerchief,
- Still waving, as the fits and stirs of's mind
- Could best express how slow his soul sail'd on,
- How swift his ship.
- IMOGEN. Thou shouldst have made him
- As little as a crow, or less, ere left
- To after-eye him.
- PISANIO. Madam, so I did.
- IMOGEN. I would have broke mine eyestrings, crack'd them but
- To look upon him, till the diminution
- Of space had pointed him sharp as my needle;
- Nay, followed him till he had melted from
- The smallness of a gnat to air, and then
- Have turn'd mine eye and wept. But, good Pisanio,
- When shall we hear from him?
- PISANIO. Be assur'd, madam,
- With his next vantage.
- IMOGEN. I did not take my leave of him, but had
- Most pretty things to say. Ere I could tell him
- How I would think on him at certain hours
- Such thoughts and such; or I could make him swear
- The shes of Italy should not betray
- Mine interest and his honour; or have charg'd him,
- At the sixth hour of morn, at noon, at midnight,
- T' encounter me with orisons, for then
- I am in heaven for him; or ere I could
- Give him that parting kiss which I had set
- Betwixt two charming words, comes in my father,
- And like the tyrannous breathing of the north
- Shakes all our buds from growing.
-
- Enter a LADY
-
- LADY. The Queen, madam,
- Desires your Highness' company.
- IMOGEN. Those things I bid you do, get them dispatch'd.
- I will attend the Queen.
- PISANIO. Madam, I shall. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE IV.
-Rome. PHILARIO'S house
-
-Enter PHILARIO, IACHIMO, a FRENCHMAN, a DUTCHMAN, and a SPANIARD
-
- IACHIMO. Believe it, sir, I have seen him in Britain. He was then
- of a crescent note, expected to prove so worthy as since he hath
- been allowed the name of. But I could then have look'd on him
- without the help of admiration, though the catalogue of his
- endowments had been tabled by his side, and I to peruse him by
- items.
- PHILARIO. You speak of him when he was less furnish'd than now he
- is with that which makes him both without and within.
- FRENCHMAN. I have seen him in France; we had very many there could
- behold the sun with as firm eyes as he.
- IACHIMO. This matter of marrying his king's daughter, wherein he
- must be weighed rather by her value than his own, words him, I
- doubt not, a great deal from the matter.
- FRENCHMAN. And then his banishment.
- IACHIMO. Ay, and the approbation of those that weep this lamentable
- divorce under her colours are wonderfully to extend him, be it
- but to fortify her judgment, which else an easy battery might lay
- flat, for taking a beggar, without less quality. But how comes it
- he is to sojourn with you? How creeps acquaintance?
- PHILARIO. His father and I were soldiers together, to whom I have
- been often bound for no less than my life.
-
- Enter POSTHUMUS
-
- Here comes the Briton. Let him be so entertained amongst you as
- suits with gentlemen of your knowing to a stranger of his
- quality. I beseech you all be better known to this gentleman,
- whom I commend to you as a noble friend of mine. How worthy he is
- I will leave to appear hereafter, rather than story him in his
- own hearing.
- FRENCHMAN. Sir, we have known together in Orleans.
- POSTHUMUS. Since when I have been debtor to you for courtesies,
- which I will be ever to pay and yet pay still.
- FRENCHMAN. Sir, you o'errate my poor kindness. I was glad I did
- atone my countryman and you; it had been pity you should have
- been put together with so mortal a purpose as then each bore,
- upon importance of so slight and trivial a nature.
- POSTHUMUS. By your pardon, sir. I was then a young traveller;
- rather shunn'd to go even with what I heard than in my every
- action to be guided by others' experiences; but upon my mended
- judgment- if I offend not to say it is mended- my quarrel was not
- altogether slight.
- FRENCHMAN. Faith, yes, to be put to the arbitrement of swords, and
- by such two that would by all likelihood have confounded one the
- other or have fall'n both.
- IACHIMO. Can we, with manners, ask what was the difference?
- FRENCHMAN. Safely, I think. 'Twas a contention in public, which
- may, without contradiction, suffer the report. It was much like
- an argument that fell out last night, where each of us fell in
- praise of our country mistresses; this gentleman at that time
- vouching- and upon warrant of bloody affirmation- his to be more
- fair, virtuous, wise, chaste, constant, qualified, and less
- attemptable, than any the rarest of our ladies in France.
- IACHIMO. That lady is not now living, or this gentleman's opinion,
- by this, worn out.
- POSTHUMUS. She holds her virtue still, and I my mind.
- IACHIMO. You must not so far prefer her fore ours of Italy.
- POSTHUMUS. Being so far provok'd as I was in France, I would abate
- her nothing, though I profess myself her adorer, not her friend.
- IACHIMO. As fair and as good- a kind of hand-in-hand comparison-
- had been something too fair and too good for any lady in Britain.
- If she went before others I have seen as that diamond of yours
- outlustres many I have beheld, I could not but believe she
- excelled many; but I have not seen the most precious diamond that
- is, nor you the lady.
- POSTHUMUS. I prais'd her as I rated her. So do I my stone.
- IACHIMO. What do you esteem it at?
- POSTHUMUS. More than the world enjoys.
- IACHIMO. Either your unparagon'd mistress is dead, or she's
- outpriz'd by a trifle.
- POSTHUMUS. You are mistaken: the one may be sold or given, if there
- were wealth enough for the purchase or merit for the gift; the
- other is not a thing for sale, and only the gift of the gods.
- IACHIMO. Which the gods have given you?
- POSTHUMUS. Which by their graces I will keep.
- IACHIMO. You may wear her in title yours; but you know strange fowl
- light upon neighbouring ponds. Your ring may be stol'n too. So
- your brace of unprizable estimations, the one is but frail and
- the other casual; a cunning thief, or a that-way-accomplish'd
- courtier, would hazard the winning both of first and last.
- POSTHUMUS. Your Italy contains none so accomplish'd a courtier to
- convince the honour of my mistress, if in the holding or loss of
- that you term her frail. I do nothing doubt you have store of
- thieves; notwithstanding, I fear not my ring.
- PHILARIO. Let us leave here, gentlemen.
- POSTHUMUS. Sir, with all my heart. This worthy signior, I thank
- him, makes no stranger of me; we are familiar at first.
- IACHIMO. With five times so much conversation I should get ground
- of your fair mistress; make her go back even to the yielding, had
- I admittance and opportunity to friend.
- POSTHUMUS. No, no.
- IACHIMO. I dare thereupon pawn the moiety of my estate to your
- ring, which, in my opinion, o'ervalues it something. But I make
- my wager rather against your confidence than her reputation; and,
- to bar your offence herein too, I durst attempt it against any
- lady in the world.
- POSTHUMUS. You are a great deal abus'd in too bold a persuasion,
- and I doubt not you sustain what y'are worthy of by your attempt.
- IACHIMO. What's that?
- POSTHUMUS. A repulse; though your attempt, as you call it, deserve
- more- a punishment too.
- PHILARIO. Gentlemen, enough of this. It came in too suddenly; let
- it die as it was born, and I pray you be better acquainted.
- IACHIMO. Would I had put my estate and my neighbour's on th'
- approbation of what I have spoke!
- POSTHUMUS. What lady would you choose to assail?
- IACHIMO. Yours, whom in constancy you think stands so safe. I will
- lay you ten thousand ducats to your ring that, commend me to the
- court where your lady is, with no more advantage than the
- opportunity of a second conference, and I will bring from thence
- that honour of hers which you imagine so reserv'd.
- POSTHUMUS. I will wage against your gold, gold to it. My ring I
- hold dear as my finger; 'tis part of it.
- IACHIMO. You are a friend, and therein the wiser. If you buy
- ladies' flesh at a million a dram, you cannot preserve it from
- tainting. But I see you have some religion in you, that you fear.
- POSTHUMUS. This is but a custom in your tongue; you bear a graver
- purpose, I hope.
- IACHIMO. I am the master of my speeches, and would undergo what's
- spoken, I swear.
- POSTHUMUS. Will you? I Shall but lend my diamond till your return.
- Let there be covenants drawn between's. My mistress exceeds in
- goodness the hugeness of your unworthy thinking. I dare you to
- this match: here's my ring.
- PHILARIO. I will have it no lay.
- IACHIMO. By the gods, it is one. If I bring you no sufficient
- testimony that I have enjoy'd the dearest bodily part of your
- mistress, my ten thousand ducats are yours; so is your diamond
- too. If I come off, and leave her in such honour as you have
- trust in, she your jewel, this your jewel, and my gold are yours-
- provided I have your commendation for my more free entertainment.
- POSTHUMUS. I embrace these conditions; let us have articles betwixt
- us. Only, thus far you shall answer: if you make your voyage upon
- her, and give me directly to understand you have prevail'd, I am
- no further your enemy- she is not worth our debate; if she remain
- unseduc'd, you not making it appear otherwise, for your ill
- opinion and th' assault you have made to her chastity you shall
- answer me with your sword.
- IACHIMO. Your hand- a covenant! We will have these things set down
- by lawful counsel, and straight away for Britain, lest the
- bargain should catch cold and starve. I will fetch my gold and
- have our two wagers recorded.
- POSTHUMUS. Agreed. Exeunt POSTHUMUS and IACHIMO
- FRENCHMAN. Will this hold, think you?
- PHILARIO. Signior Iachimo will not from it. Pray let us follow 'em.
- Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE V.
-Britain. CYMBELINE'S palace
-
-Enter QUEEN, LADIES, and CORNELIUS
-
- QUEEN. Whiles yet the dew's on ground, gather those flowers;
- Make haste; who has the note of them?
- LADY. I, madam.
- QUEEN. Dispatch. Exeunt LADIES
- Now, Master Doctor, have you brought those drugs?
- CORNELIUS. Pleaseth your Highness, ay. Here they are, madam.
- [Presenting a box]
- But I beseech your Grace, without offence-
- My conscience bids me ask- wherefore you have
- Commanded of me these most poisonous compounds
- Which are the movers of a languishing death,
- But, though slow, deadly?
- QUEEN. I wonder, Doctor,
- Thou ask'st me such a question. Have I not been
- Thy pupil long? Hast thou not learn'd me how
- To make perfumes? distil? preserve? yea, so
- That our great king himself doth woo me oft
- For my confections? Having thus far proceeded-
- Unless thou think'st me devilish- is't not meet
- That I did amplify my judgment in
- Other conclusions? I will try the forces
- Of these thy compounds on such creatures as
- We count not worth the hanging- but none human-
- To try the vigour of them, and apply
- Allayments to their act, and by them gather
- Their several virtues and effects.
- CORNELIUS. Your Highness
- Shall from this practice but make hard your heart;
- Besides, the seeing these effects will be
- Both noisome and infectious.
- QUEEN. O, content thee.
-
- Enter PISANIO
-
- [Aside] Here comes a flattering rascal; upon him
- Will I first work. He's for his master,
- An enemy to my son.- How now, Pisanio!
- Doctor, your service for this time is ended;
- Take your own way.
- CORNELIUS. [Aside] I do suspect you, madam;
- But you shall do no harm.
- QUEEN. [To PISANIO] Hark thee, a word.
- CORNELIUS. [Aside] I do not like her. She doth think she has
- Strange ling'ring poisons. I do know her spirit,
- And will not trust one of her malice with
- A drug of such damn'd nature. Those she has
- Will stupefy and dull the sense awhile,
- Which first perchance she'll prove on cats and dogs,
- Then afterward up higher; but there is
- No danger in what show of death it makes,
- More than the locking up the spirits a time,
- To be more fresh, reviving. She is fool'd
- With a most false effect; and I the truer
- So to be false with her.
- QUEEN. No further service, Doctor,
- Until I send for thee.
- CORNELIUS. I humbly take my leave. Exit
- QUEEN. Weeps she still, say'st thou? Dost thou think in time
- She will not quench, and let instructions enter
- Where folly now possesses? Do thou work.
- When thou shalt bring me word she loves my son,
- I'll tell thee on the instant thou art then
- As great as is thy master; greater, for
- His fortunes all lie speechless, and his name
- Is at last gasp. Return he cannot, nor
- Continue where he is. To shift his being
- Is to exchange one misery with another,
- And every day that comes comes comes to
- A day's work in him. What shalt thou expect
- To be depender on a thing that leans,
- Who cannot be new built, nor has no friends
- So much as but to prop him?
- [The QUEEN drops the box. PISANIO takes it up]
- Thou tak'st up
- Thou know'st not what; but take it for thy labour.
- It is a thing I made, which hath the King
- Five times redeem'd from death. I do not know
- What is more cordial. Nay, I prithee take it;
- It is an earnest of a further good
- That I mean to thee. Tell thy mistress how
- The case stands with her; do't as from thyself.
- Think what a chance thou changest on; but think
- Thou hast thy mistress still; to boot, my son,
- Who shall take notice of thee. I'll move the King
- To any shape of thy preferment, such
- As thou'lt desire; and then myself, I chiefly,
- That set thee on to this desert, am bound
- To load thy merit richly. Call my women.
- Think on my words. Exit PISANIO
- A sly and constant knave,
- Not to be shak'd; the agent for his master,
- And the remembrancer of her to hold
- The hand-fast to her lord. I have given him that
- Which, if he take, shall quite unpeople her
- Of leigers for her sweet; and which she after,
- Except she bend her humour, shall be assur'd
- To taste of too.
-
- Re-enter PISANIO and LADIES
-
- So, so. Well done, well done.
- The violets, cowslips, and the primroses,
- Bear to my closet. Fare thee well, Pisanio;
- Think on my words. Exeunt QUEEN and LADIES
- PISANIO. And shall do.
- But when to my good lord I prove untrue
- I'll choke myself- there's all I'll do for you. Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE VI.
-Britain. The palace
-
-Enter IMOGEN alone
-
- IMOGEN. A father cruel and a step-dame false;
- A foolish suitor to a wedded lady
- That hath her husband banish'd. O, that husband!
- My supreme crown of grief! and those repeated
- Vexations of it! Had I been thief-stol'n,
- As my two brothers, happy! but most miserable
- Is the desire that's glorious. Blessed be those,
- How mean soe'er, that have their honest wills,
- Which seasons comfort. Who may this be? Fie!
-
- Enter PISANIO and IACHIMO
-
- PISANIO. Madam, a noble gentleman of Rome
- Comes from my lord with letters.
- IACHIMO. Change you, madam?
- The worthy Leonatus is in safety,
- And greets your Highness dearly. [Presents a letter]
- IMOGEN. Thanks, good sir.
- You're kindly welcome.
- IACHIMO. [Aside] All of her that is out of door most rich!
- If she be furnish'd with a mind so rare,
- She is alone th' Arabian bird, and I
- Have lost the wager. Boldness be my friend!
- Arm me, audacity, from head to foot!
- Or, like the Parthian, I shall flying fight;
- Rather, directly fly.
- IMOGEN. [Reads] 'He is one of the noblest note, to whose
- kindnesses I am most infinitely tied. Reflect upon him
- accordingly, as you value your trust. LEONATUS.'
-
- So far I read aloud;
- But even the very middle of my heart
- Is warm'd by th' rest and takes it thankfully.
- You are as welcome, worthy sir, as I
- Have words to bid you; and shall find it so
- In all that I can do.
- IACHIMO. Thanks, fairest lady.
- What, are men mad? Hath nature given them eyes
- To see this vaulted arch and the rich crop
- Of sea and land, which can distinguish 'twixt
- The fiery orbs above and the twinn'd stones
- Upon the number'd beach, and can we not
- Partition make with spectacles so precious
- 'Twixt fair and foul?
- IMOGEN. What makes your admiration?
- IACHIMO. It cannot be i' th' eye, for apes and monkeys,
- 'Twixt two such shes, would chatter this way and
- Contemn with mows the other; nor i' th' judgment,
- For idiots in this case of favour would
- Be wisely definite; nor i' th' appetite;
- Sluttery, to such neat excellence oppos'd,
- Should make desire vomit emptiness,
- Not so allur'd to feed.
- IMOGEN. What is the matter, trow?
- IACHIMO. The cloyed will-
- That satiate yet unsatisfied desire, that tub
- Both fill'd and running- ravening first the lamb,
- Longs after for the garbage.
- IMOGEN. What, dear sir,
- Thus raps you? Are you well?
- IACHIMO. Thanks, madam; well.- Beseech you, sir,
- Desire my man's abode where I did leave him.
- He's strange and peevish.
- PISANIO. I was going, sir,
- To give him welcome. Exit
- IMOGEN. Continues well my lord? His health beseech you?
- IACHIMO. Well, madam.
- IMOGEN. Is he dispos'd to mirth? I hope he is.
- IACHIMO. Exceeding pleasant; none a stranger there
- So merry and so gamesome. He is call'd
- The Britain reveller.
- IMOGEN. When he was here
- He did incline to sadness, and oft-times
- Not knowing why.
- IACHIMO. I never saw him sad.
- There is a Frenchman his companion, one
- An eminent monsieur that, it seems, much loves
- A Gallian girl at home. He furnaces
- The thick sighs from him; whiles the jolly Briton-
- Your lord, I mean- laughs from's free lungs, cries 'O,
- Can my sides hold, to think that man- who knows
- By history, report, or his own proof,
- What woman is, yea, what she cannot choose
- But must be- will's free hours languish for
- Assured bondage?'
- IMOGEN. Will my lord say so?
- IACHIMO. Ay, madam, with his eyes in flood with laughter.
- It is a recreation to be by
- And hear him mock the Frenchman. But heavens know
- Some men are much to blame.
- IMOGEN. Not he, I hope.
- IACHIMO. Not he; but yet heaven's bounty towards him might
- Be us'd more thankfully. In himself, 'tis much;
- In you, which I account his, beyond all talents.
- Whilst I am bound to wonder, I am bound
- To pity too.
- IMOGEN. What do you pity, sir?
- IACHIMO. Two creatures heartily.
- IMOGEN. Am I one, sir?
- You look on me: what wreck discern you in me
- Deserves your pity?
- IACHIMO. Lamentable! What,
- To hide me from the radiant sun and solace
- I' th' dungeon by a snuff?
- IMOGEN. I pray you, sir,
- Deliver with more openness your answers
- To my demands. Why do you pity me?
- IACHIMO. That others do,
- I was about to say, enjoy your- But
- It is an office of the gods to venge it,
- Not mine to speak on't.
- IMOGEN. You do seem to know
- Something of me, or what concerns me; pray you-
- Since doubting things go ill often hurts more
- Than to be sure they do; for certainties
- Either are past remedies, or, timely knowing,
- The remedy then born- discover to me
- What both you spur and stop.
- IACHIMO. Had I this cheek
- To bathe my lips upon; this hand, whose touch,
- Whose every touch, would force the feeler's soul
- To th' oath of loyalty; this object, which
- Takes prisoner the wild motion of mine eye,
- Fixing it only here; should I, damn'd then,
- Slaver with lips as common as the stairs
- That mount the Capitol; join gripes with hands
- Made hard with hourly falsehood- falsehood as
- With labour; then by-peeping in an eye
- Base and illustrious as the smoky light
- That's fed with stinking tallow- it were fit
- That all the plagues of hell should at one time
- Encounter such revolt.
- IMOGEN. My lord, I fear,
- Has forgot Britain.
- IACHIMO. And himself. Not I
- Inclin'd to this intelligence pronounce
- The beggary of his change; but 'tis your graces
- That from my mutest conscience to my tongue
- Charms this report out.
- IMOGEN. Let me hear no more.
- IACHIMO. O dearest soul, your cause doth strike my heart
- With pity that doth make me sick! A lady
- So fair, and fasten'd to an empery,
- Would make the great'st king double, to be partner'd
- With tomboys hir'd with that self exhibition
- Which your own coffers yield! with diseas'd ventures
- That play with all infirmities for gold
- Which rottenness can lend nature! such boil'd stuff
- As well might poison poison! Be reveng'd;
- Or she that bore you was no queen, and you
- Recoil from your great stock.
- IMOGEN. Reveng'd?
- How should I be reveng'd? If this be true-
- As I have such a heart that both mine ears
- Must not in haste abuse- if it be true,
- How should I be reveng'd?
- IACHIMO. Should he make me
- Live like Diana's priest betwixt cold sheets,
- Whiles he is vaulting variable ramps,
- In your despite, upon your purse? Revenge it.
- I dedicate myself to your sweet pleasure,
- More noble than that runagate to your bed,
- And will continue fast to your affection,
- Still close as sure.
- IMOGEN. What ho, Pisanio!
- IACHIMO. Let me my service tender on your lips.
- IMOGEN. Away! I do condemn mine ears that have
- So long attended thee. If thou wert honourable,
- Thou wouldst have told this tale for virtue, not
- For such an end thou seek'st, as base as strange.
- Thou wrong'st a gentleman who is as far
- From thy report as thou from honour; and
- Solicits here a lady that disdains
- Thee and the devil alike.- What ho, Pisanio!-
- The King my father shall be made acquainted
- Of thy assault. If he shall think it fit
- A saucy stranger in his court to mart
- As in a Romish stew, and to expound
- His beastly mind to us, he hath a court
- He little cares for, and a daughter who
- He not respects at all.- What ho, Pisanio!
- IACHIMO. O happy Leonatus! I may say
- The credit that thy lady hath of thee
- Deserves thy trust, and thy most perfect goodness
- Her assur'd credit. Blessed live you long,
- A lady to the worthiest sir that ever
- Country call'd his! and you his mistress, only
- For the most worthiest fit! Give me your pardon.
- I have spoke this to know if your affiance
- Were deeply rooted, and shall make your lord
- That which he is new o'er; and he is one
- The truest manner'd, such a holy witch
- That he enchants societies into him,
- Half all men's hearts are his.
- IMOGEN. You make amends.
- IACHIMO. He sits 'mongst men like a descended god:
- He hath a kind of honour sets him of
- More than a mortal seeming. Be not angry,
- Most mighty Princess, that I have adventur'd
- To try your taking of a false report, which hath
- Honour'd with confirmation your great judgment
- In the election of a sir so rare,
- Which you know cannot err. The love I bear him
- Made me to fan you thus; but the gods made you,
- Unlike all others, chaffless. Pray your pardon.
- IMOGEN. All's well, sir; take my pow'r i' th' court for yours.
- IACHIMO. My humble thanks. I had almost forgot
- T' entreat your Grace but in a small request,
- And yet of moment too, for it concerns
- Your lord; myself and other noble friends
- Are partners in the business.
- IMOGEN. Pray what is't?
- IACHIMO. Some dozen Romans of us, and your lord-
- The best feather of our wing- have mingled sums
- To buy a present for the Emperor;
- Which I, the factor for the rest, have done
- In France. 'Tis plate of rare device, and jewels
- Of rich and exquisite form, their values great;
- And I am something curious, being strange,
- To have them in safe stowage. May it please you
- To take them in protection?
- IMOGEN. Willingly;
- And pawn mine honour for their safety. Since
- My lord hath interest in them, I will keep them
- In my bedchamber.
- IACHIMO. They are in a trunk,
- Attended by my men. I will make bold
- To send them to you only for this night;
- I must aboard to-morrow.
- IMOGEN. O, no, no.
- IACHIMO. Yes, I beseech; or I shall short my word
- By length'ning my return. From Gallia
- I cross'd the seas on purpose and on promise
- To see your Grace.
- IMOGEN. I thank you for your pains.
- But not away to-morrow!
- IACHIMO. O, I must, madam.
- Therefore I shall beseech you, if you please
- To greet your lord with writing, do't to-night.
- I have outstood my time, which is material
- 'To th' tender of our present.
- IMOGEN. I will write.
- Send your trunk to me; it shall safe be kept
- And truly yielded you. You're very welcome. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT II. SCENE I.
-Britain. Before CYMBELINE'S palace
-
-Enter CLOTEN and the two LORDS
-
- CLOTEN. Was there ever man had such luck! When I kiss'd the jack,
- upon an up-cast to be hit away! I had a hundred pound on't; and
- then a whoreson jackanapes must take me up for swearing, as if I
- borrowed mine oaths of him, and might not spend them at my
- pleasure.
- FIRST LORD. What got he by that? You have broke his pate with your
- bowl.
- SECOND LORD. [Aside] If his wit had been like him that broke it, it
- would have run all out.
- CLOTEN. When a gentleman is dispos'd to swear, it is not for any
- standers-by to curtail his oaths. Ha?
- SECOND LORD. No, my lord; [Aside] nor crop the ears of them.
- CLOTEN. Whoreson dog! I give him satisfaction? Would he had been
- one of my rank!
- SECOND LORD. [Aside] To have smell'd like a fool.
- CLOTEN. I am not vex'd more at anything in th' earth. A pox on't! I
- had rather not be so noble as I am; they dare not fight with me,
- because of the Queen my mother. Every jackslave hath his bellyful
- of fighting, and I must go up and down like a cock that nobody
- can match.
- SECOND LORD. [Aside] You are cock and capon too; and you crow,
- cock, with your comb on.
- CLOTEN. Sayest thou?
- SECOND LORD. It is not fit your lordship should undertake every
- companion that you give offence to.
- CLOTEN. No, I know that; but it is fit I should commit offence to
- my inferiors.
- SECOND LORD. Ay, it is fit for your lordship only.
- CLOTEN. Why, so I say.
- FIRST LORD. Did you hear of a stranger that's come to court
- to-night?
- CLOTEN. A stranger, and I not known on't?
- SECOND LORD. [Aside] He's a strange fellow himself, and knows it
- not.
- FIRST LORD. There's an Italian come, and, 'tis thought, one of
- Leonatus' friends.
- CLOTEN. Leonatus? A banish'd rascal; and he's another, whatsoever
- he be. Who told you of this stranger?
- FIRST LORD. One of your lordship's pages.
- CLOTEN. Is it fit I went to look upon him? Is there no derogation
- in't?
- SECOND LORD. You cannot derogate, my lord.
- CLOTEN. Not easily, I think.
- SECOND LORD. [Aside] You are a fool granted; therefore your issues,
- being foolish, do not derogate.
- CLOTEN. Come, I'll go see this Italian. What I have lost to-day at
- bowls I'll win to-night of him. Come, go.
- SECOND LORD. I'll attend your lordship.
- Exeunt CLOTEN and FIRST LORD
- That such a crafty devil as is his mother
- Should yield the world this ass! A woman that
- Bears all down with her brain; and this her son
- Cannot take two from twenty, for his heart,
- And leave eighteen. Alas, poor princess,
- Thou divine Imogen, what thou endur'st,
- Betwixt a father by thy step-dame govern'd,
- A mother hourly coining plots, a wooer
- More hateful than the foul expulsion is
- Of thy dear husband, than that horrid act
- Of the divorce he'd make! The heavens hold firm
- The walls of thy dear honour, keep unshak'd
- That temple, thy fair mind, that thou mayst stand
- T' enjoy thy banish'd lord and this great land! Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-Britain. IMOGEN'S bedchamber in CYMBELINE'S palace; a trunk in one corner
-
-Enter IMOGEN in her bed, and a LADY attending
-
- IMOGEN. Who's there? My woman? Helen?
- LADY. Please you, madam.
- IMOGEN. What hour is it?
- LADY. Almost midnight, madam.
- IMOGEN. I have read three hours then. Mine eyes are weak;
- Fold down the leaf where I have left. To bed.
- Take not away the taper, leave it burning;
- And if thou canst awake by four o' th' clock,
- I prithee call me. Sleep hath seiz'd me wholly. Exit LADY
- To your protection I commend me, gods.
- From fairies and the tempters of the night
- Guard me, beseech ye!
- [Sleeps. IACHIMO comes from the trunk]
- IACHIMO. The crickets sing, and man's o'er-labour'd sense
- Repairs itself by rest. Our Tarquin thus
- Did softly press the rushes ere he waken'd
- The chastity he wounded. Cytherea,
- How bravely thou becom'st thy bed! fresh lily,
- And whiter than the sheets! That I might touch!
- But kiss; one kiss! Rubies unparagon'd,
- How dearly they do't! 'Tis her breathing that
- Perfumes the chamber thus. The flame o' th' taper
- Bows toward her and would under-peep her lids
- To see th' enclosed lights, now canopied
- Under these windows white and azure, lac'd
- With blue of heaven's own tinct. But my design
- To note the chamber. I will write all down:
- Such and such pictures; there the window; such
- Th' adornment of her bed; the arras, figures-
- Why, such and such; and the contents o' th' story.
- Ah, but some natural notes about her body
- Above ten thousand meaner movables
- Would testify, t' enrich mine inventory.
- O sleep, thou ape of death, lie dull upon her!
- And be her sense but as a monument,
- Thus in a chapel lying! Come off, come off;
- [Taking off her bracelet]
- As slippery as the Gordian knot was hard!
- 'Tis mine; and this will witness outwardly,
- As strongly as the conscience does within,
- To th' madding of her lord. On her left breast
- A mole cinque-spotted, like the crimson drops
- I' th' bottom of a cowslip. Here's a voucher
- Stronger than ever law could make; this secret
- Will force him think I have pick'd the lock and ta'en
- The treasure of her honour. No more. To what end?
- Why should I write this down that's riveted,
- Screw'd to my memory? She hath been reading late
- The tale of Tereus; here the leaf's turn'd down
- Where Philomel gave up. I have enough.
- To th' trunk again, and shut the spring of it.
- Swift, swift, you dragons of the night, that dawning
- May bare the raven's eye! I lodge in fear;
- Though this a heavenly angel, hell is here. [Clock strikes]
- One, two, three. Time, time! Exit into the trunk
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-CYMBELINE'S palace. An ante-chamber adjoining IMOGEN'S apartments
-
-Enter CLOTEN and LORDS
-
- FIRST LORD. Your lordship is the most patient man in loss, the most
- coldest that ever turn'd up ace.
- CLOTEN. It would make any man cold to lose.
- FIRST LORD. But not every man patient after the noble temper of
- your lordship. You are most hot and furious when you win.
- CLOTEN. Winning will put any man into courage. If I could get this
- foolish Imogen, I should have gold enough. It's almost morning,
- is't not?
- FIRST LORD. Day, my lord.
- CLOTEN. I would this music would come. I am advised to give her
- music a mornings; they say it will penetrate.
-
- Enter musicians
-
- Come on, tune. If you can penetrate her with your fingering, so.
- We'll try with tongue too. If none will do, let her remain; but
- I'll never give o'er. First, a very excellent good-conceited
- thing; after, a wonderful sweet air, with admirable rich words to
- it- and then let her consider.
-
- SONG
-
- Hark, hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings,
- And Phoebus 'gins arise,
- His steeds to water at those springs
- On chalic'd flow'rs that lies;
- And winking Mary-buds begin
- To ope their golden eyes.
- With everything that pretty bin,
- My lady sweet, arise;
- Arise, arise!
-
- So, get you gone. If this penetrate, I will consider your music
- the better; if it do not, it is a vice in her ears which
- horsehairs and calves' guts, nor the voice of unpaved eunuch to
- boot, can never amend. Exeunt musicians
-
- Enter CYMBELINE and QUEEN
-
- SECOND LORD. Here comes the King.
- CLOTEN. I am glad I was up so late, for that's the reason I was up
- so early. He cannot choose but take this service I have done
- fatherly.- Good morrow to your Majesty and to my gracious mother.
- CYMBELINE. Attend you here the door of our stern daughter?
- Will she not forth?
- CLOTEN. I have assail'd her with musics, but she vouchsafes no
- notice.
- CYMBELINE. The exile of her minion is too new;
- She hath not yet forgot him; some more time
- Must wear the print of his remembrance out,
- And then she's yours.
- QUEEN. You are most bound to th' King,
- Who lets go by no vantages that may
- Prefer you to his daughter. Frame yourself
- To orderly soliciting, and be friended
- With aptness of the season; make denials
- Increase your services; so seem as if
- You were inspir'd to do those duties which
- You tender to her; that you in all obey her,
- Save when command to your dismission tends,
- And therein you are senseless.
- CLOTEN. Senseless? Not so.
-
- Enter a MESSENGER
-
- MESSENGER. So like you, sir, ambassadors from Rome;
- The one is Caius Lucius.
- CYMBELINE. A worthy fellow,
- Albeit he comes on angry purpose now;
- But that's no fault of his. We must receive him
- According to the honour of his sender;
- And towards himself, his goodness forespent on us,
- We must extend our notice. Our dear son,
- When you have given good morning to your mistress,
- Attend the Queen and us; we shall have need
- T' employ you towards this Roman. Come, our queen.
- Exeunt all but CLOTEN
- CLOTEN. If she be up, I'll speak with her; if not,
- Let her lie still and dream. By your leave, ho! [Knocks]
- I know her women are about her; what
- If I do line one of their hands? 'Tis gold
- Which buys admittance; oft it doth-yea, and makes
- Diana's rangers false themselves, yield up
- Their deer to th' stand o' th' stealer; and 'tis gold
- Which makes the true man kill'd and saves the thief;
- Nay, sometime hangs both thief and true man. What
- Can it not do and undo? I will make
- One of her women lawyer to me, for
- I yet not understand the case myself.
- By your leave. [Knocks]
-
- Enter a LADY
-
- LADY. Who's there that knocks?
- CLOTEN. A gentleman.
- LADY. No more?
- CLOTEN. Yes, and a gentlewoman's son.
- LADY. That's more
- Than some whose tailors are as dear as yours
- Can justly boast of. What's your lordship's pleasure?
- CLOTEN. Your lady's person; is she ready?
- LADY. Ay,
- To keep her chamber.
- CLOTEN. There is gold for you; sell me your good report.
- LADY. How? My good name? or to report of you
- What I shall think is good? The Princess!
-
- Enter IMOGEN
-
- CLOTEN. Good morrow, fairest sister. Your sweet hand.
- Exit LADY
- IMOGEN. Good morrow, sir. You lay out too much pains
- For purchasing but trouble. The thanks I give
- Is telling you that I am poor of thanks,
- And scarce can spare them.
- CLOTEN. Still I swear I love you.
- IMOGEN. If you but said so, 'twere as deep with me.
- If you swear still, your recompense is still
- That I regard it not.
- CLOTEN. This is no answer.
- IMOGEN. But that you shall not say I yield, being silent,
- I would not speak. I pray you spare me. Faith,
- I shall unfold equal discourtesy
- To your best kindness; one of your great knowing
- Should learn, being taught, forbearance.
- CLOTEN. To leave you in your madness 'twere my sin;
- I will not.
- IMOGEN. Fools are not mad folks.
- CLOTEN. Do you call me fool?
- IMOGEN. As I am mad, I do;
- If you'll be patient, I'll no more be mad;
- That cures us both. I am much sorry, sir,
- You put me to forget a lady's manners
- By being so verbal; and learn now, for all,
- That I, which know my heart, do here pronounce,
- By th' very truth of it, I care not for you,
- And am so near the lack of charity
- To accuse myself I hate you; which I had rather
- You felt than make't my boast.
- CLOTEN. You sin against
- Obedience, which you owe your father. For
- The contract you pretend with that base wretch,
- One bred of alms and foster'd with cold dishes,
- With scraps o' th' court- it is no contract, none.
- And though it be allowed in meaner parties-
- Yet who than he more mean?- to knit their souls-
- On whom there is no more dependency
- But brats and beggary- in self-figur'd knot,
- Yet you are curb'd from that enlargement by
- The consequence o' th' crown, and must not foil
- The precious note of it with a base slave,
- A hilding for a livery, a squire's cloth,
- A pantler- not so eminent!
- IMOGEN. Profane fellow!
- Wert thou the son of Jupiter, and no more
- But what thou art besides, thou wert too base
- To be his groom. Thou wert dignified enough,
- Even to the point of envy, if 'twere made
- Comparative for your virtues to be styl'd
- The under-hangman of his kingdom, and hated
- For being preferr'd so well.
- CLOTEN. The south fog rot him!
- IMOGEN. He never can meet more mischance than come
- To be but nam'd of thee. His mean'st garment
- That ever hath but clipp'd his body is dearer
- In my respect than all the hairs above thee,
- Were they all made such men. How now, Pisanio!
-
- Enter PISANIO
-
- CLOTEN. 'His garments'! Now the devil-
- IMOGEN. To Dorothy my woman hie thee presently.
- CLOTEN. 'His garment'!
- IMOGEN. I am sprited with a fool;
- Frighted, and ang'red worse. Go bid my woman
- Search for a jewel that too casually
- Hath left mine arm. It was thy master's; shrew me,
- If I would lose it for a revenue
- Of any king's in Europe! I do think
- I saw't this morning; confident I am
- Last night 'twas on mine arm; I kiss'd it.
- I hope it be not gone to tell my lord
- That I kiss aught but he.
- PISANIO. 'Twill not be lost.
- IMOGEN. I hope so. Go and search. Exit PISANIO
- CLOTEN. You have abus'd me.
- 'His meanest garment'!
- IMOGEN. Ay, I said so, sir.
- If you will make 't an action, call witness to 't.
- CLOTEN. I will inform your father.
- IMOGEN. Your mother too.
- She's my good lady and will conceive, I hope,
- But the worst of me. So I leave you, sir,
- To th' worst of discontent. Exit
- CLOTEN. I'll be reveng'd.
- 'His mean'st garment'! Well. Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE IV.
-Rome. PHILARIO'S house
-
-Enter POSTHUMUS and PHILARIO
-
- POSTHUMUS. Fear it not, sir; I would I were so sure
- To win the King as I am bold her honour
- Will remain hers.
- PHILARIO. What means do you make to him?
- POSTHUMUS. Not any; but abide the change of time,
- Quake in the present winter's state, and wish
- That warmer days would come. In these fear'd hopes
- I barely gratify your love; they failing,
- I must die much your debtor.
- PHILARIO. Your very goodness and your company
- O'erpays all I can do. By this your king
- Hath heard of great Augustus. Caius Lucius
- Will do's commission throughly; and I think
- He'll grant the tribute, send th' arrearages,
- Or look upon our Romans, whose remembrance
- Is yet fresh in their grief.
- POSTHUMUS. I do believe
- Statist though I am none, nor like to be,
- That this will prove a war; and you shall hear
- The legions now in Gallia sooner landed
- In our not-fearing Britain than have tidings
- Of any penny tribute paid. Our countrymen
- Are men more order'd than when Julius Caesar
- Smil'd at their lack of skill, but found their courage
- Worthy his frowning at. Their discipline,
- Now mingled with their courages, will make known
- To their approvers they are people such
- That mend upon the world.
-
- Enter IACHIMO
-
- PHILARIO. See! Iachimo!
- POSTHUMUS. The swiftest harts have posted you by land,
- And winds of all the comers kiss'd your sails,
- To make your vessel nimble.
- PHILARIO. Welcome, sir.
- POSTHUMUS. I hope the briefness of your answer made
- The speediness of your return.
- IACHIMO. Your lady
- Is one of the fairest that I have look'd upon.
- POSTHUMUS. And therewithal the best; or let her beauty
- Look through a casement to allure false hearts,
- And be false with them.
- IACHIMO. Here are letters for you.
- POSTHUMUS. Their tenour good, I trust.
- IACHIMO. 'Tis very like.
- PHILARIO. Was Caius Lucius in the Britain court
- When you were there?
- IACHIMO. He was expected then,
- But not approach'd.
- POSTHUMUS. All is well yet.
- Sparkles this stone as it was wont, or is't not
- Too dull for your good wearing?
- IACHIMO. If I have lost it,
- I should have lost the worth of it in gold.
- I'll make a journey twice as far t' enjoy
- A second night of such sweet shortness which
- Was mine in Britain; for the ring is won.
- POSTHUMUS. The stone's too hard to come by.
- IACHIMO. Not a whit,
- Your lady being so easy.
- POSTHUMUS. Make not, sir,
- Your loss your sport. I hope you know that we
- Must not continue friends.
- IACHIMO. Good sir, we must,
- If you keep covenant. Had I not brought
- The knowledge of your mistress home, I grant
- We were to question farther; but I now
- Profess myself the winner of her honour,
- Together with your ring; and not the wronger
- Of her or you, having proceeded but
- By both your wills.
- POSTHUMUS. If you can make't apparent
- That you have tasted her in bed, my hand
- And ring is yours. If not, the foul opinion
- You had of her pure honour gains or loses
- Your sword or mine, or masterless leaves both
- To who shall find them.
- IACHIMO. Sir, my circumstances,
- Being so near the truth as I will make them,
- Must first induce you to believe- whose strength
- I will confirm with oath; which I doubt not
- You'll give me leave to spare when you shall find
- You need it not.
- POSTHUMUS. Proceed.
- IACHIMO. First, her bedchamber,
- Where I confess I slept not, but profess
- Had that was well worth watching-it was hang'd
- With tapestry of silk and silver; the story,
- Proud Cleopatra when she met her Roman
- And Cydnus swell'd above the banks, or for
- The press of boats or pride. A piece of work
- So bravely done, so rich, that it did strive
- In workmanship and value; which I wonder'd
- Could be so rarely and exactly wrought,
- Since the true life on't was-
- POSTHUMUS. This is true;
- And this you might have heard of here, by me
- Or by some other.
- IACHIMO. More particulars
- Must justify my knowledge.
- POSTHUMUS. So they must,
- Or do your honour injury.
- IACHIMO. The chimney
- Is south the chamber, and the chimneypiece
- Chaste Dian bathing. Never saw I figures
- So likely to report themselves. The cutter
- Was as another nature, dumb; outwent her,
- Motion and breath left out.
- POSTHUMUS. This is a thing
- Which you might from relation likewise reap,
- Being, as it is, much spoke of.
- IACHIMO. The roof o' th' chamber
- With golden cherubins is fretted; her andirons-
- I had forgot them- were two winking Cupids
- Of silver, each on one foot standing, nicely
- Depending on their brands.
- POSTHUMUS. This is her honour!
- Let it be granted you have seen all this, and praise
- Be given to your remembrance; the description
- Of what is in her chamber nothing saves
- The wager you have laid.
- IACHIMO. Then, if you can, [Shows the bracelet]
- Be pale. I beg but leave to air this jewel. See!
- And now 'tis up again. It must be married
- To that your diamond; I'll keep them.
- POSTHUMUS. Jove!
- Once more let me behold it. Is it that
- Which I left with her?
- IACHIMO. Sir- I thank her- that.
- She stripp'd it from her arm; I see her yet;
- Her pretty action did outsell her gift,
- And yet enrich'd it too. She gave it me, and said
- She priz'd it once.
- POSTHUMUS. May be she pluck'd it of
- To send it me.
- IACHIMO. She writes so to you, doth she?
- POSTHUMUS. O, no, no, no! 'tis true. Here, take this too;
- [Gives the ring]
- It is a basilisk unto mine eye,
- Kills me to look on't. Let there be no honour
- Where there is beauty; truth where semblance; love
- Where there's another man. The vows of women
- Of no more bondage be to where they are made
- Than they are to their virtues, which is nothing.
- O, above measure false!
- PHILARIO. Have patience, sir,
- And take your ring again; 'tis not yet won.
- It may be probable she lost it, or
- Who knows if one her women, being corrupted
- Hath stol'n it from her?
- POSTHUMUS. Very true;
- And so I hope he came by't. Back my ring.
- Render to me some corporal sign about her,
- More evident than this; for this was stol'n.
- IACHIMO. By Jupiter, I had it from her arm!
- POSTHUMUS. Hark you, he swears; by Jupiter he swears.
- 'Tis true- nay, keep the ring, 'tis true. I am sure
- She would not lose it. Her attendants are
- All sworn and honourable- they induc'd to steal it!
- And by a stranger! No, he hath enjoy'd her.
- The cognizance of her incontinency
- Is this: she hath bought the name of whore thus dearly.
- There, take thy hire; and all the fiends of hell
- Divide themselves between you!
- PHILARIO. Sir, be patient;
- This is not strong enough to be believ'd
- Of one persuaded well of.
- POSTHUMUS. Never talk on't;
- She hath been colted by him.
- IACHIMO. If you seek
- For further satisfying, under her breast-
- Worthy the pressing- lies a mole, right proud
- Of that most delicate lodging. By my life,
- I kiss'd it; and it gave me present hunger
- To feed again, though full. You do remember
- This stain upon her?
- POSTHUMUS. Ay, and it doth confirm
- Another stain, as big as hell can hold,
- Were there no more but it.
- IACHIMO. Will you hear more?
- POSTHUMUS. Spare your arithmetic; never count the turns.
- Once, and a million!
- IACHIMO. I'll be sworn-
- POSTHUMUS. No swearing.
- If you will swear you have not done't, you lie;
- And I will kill thee if thou dost deny
- Thou'st made me cuckold.
- IACHIMO. I'll deny nothing.
- POSTHUMUS. O that I had her here to tear her limb-meal!
- I will go there and do't, i' th' court, before
- Her father. I'll do something- Exit
- PHILARIO. Quite besides
- The government of patience! You have won.
- Let's follow him and pervert the present wrath
- He hath against himself.
- IACHIMO. With all my heart. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE V.
-Rome. Another room in PHILARIO'S house
-
-Enter POSTHUMUS
-
- POSTHUMUS. Is there no way for men to be, but women
- Must be half-workers? We are all bastards,
- And that most venerable man which I
- Did call my father was I know not where
- When I was stamp'd. Some coiner with his tools
- Made me a counterfeit; yet my mother seem'd
- The Dian of that time. So doth my wife
- The nonpareil of this. O, vengeance, vengeance!
- Me of my lawful pleasure she restrain'd,
- And pray'd me oft forbearance; did it with
- A pudency so rosy, the sweet view on't
- Might well have warm'd old Saturn; that I thought her
- As chaste as unsunn'd snow. O, all the devils!
- This yellow Iachimo in an hour- was't not?
- Or less!- at first? Perchance he spoke not, but,
- Like a full-acorn'd boar, a German one,
- Cried 'O!' and mounted; found no opposition
- But what he look'd for should oppose and she
- Should from encounter guard. Could I find out
- The woman's part in me! For there's no motion
- That tends to vice in man but I affirm
- It is the woman's part. Be it lying, note it,
- The woman's; flattering, hers; deceiving, hers;
- Lust and rank thoughts, hers, hers; revenges, hers;
- Ambitions, covetings, change of prides, disdain,
- Nice longing, slanders, mutability,
- All faults that man may name, nay, that hell knows,
- Why, hers, in part or all; but rather all;
- For even to vice
- They are not constant, but are changing still
- One vice but of a minute old for one
- Not half so old as that. I'll write against them,
- Detest them, curse them. Yet 'tis greater skill
- In a true hate to pray they have their will:
- The very devils cannot plague them better. Exit
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT III. SCENE I.
-Britain. A hall in CYMBELINE'S palace
-
-Enter in state, CYMBELINE, QUEEN, CLOTEN, and LORDS at one door,
-and at another CAIUS LUCIUS and attendants
-
- CYMBELINE. Now say, what would Augustus Caesar with us?
- LUCIUS. When Julius Caesar- whose remembrance yet
- Lives in men's eyes, and will to ears and tongues
- Be theme and hearing ever- was in this Britain,
- And conquer'd it, Cassibelan, thine uncle,
- Famous in Caesar's praises no whit less
- Than in his feats deserving it, for him
- And his succession granted Rome a tribute,
- Yearly three thousand pounds, which by thee lately
- Is left untender'd.
- QUEEN. And, to kill the marvel,
- Shall be so ever.
- CLOTEN. There be many Caesars
- Ere such another Julius. Britain is
- A world by itself, and we will nothing pay
- For wearing our own noses.
- QUEEN. That opportunity,
- Which then they had to take from 's, to resume
- We have again. Remember, sir, my liege,
- The kings your ancestors, together with
- The natural bravery of your isle, which stands
- As Neptune's park, ribb'd and pal'd in
- With rocks unscalable and roaring waters,
- With sands that will not bear your enemies' boats
- But suck them up to th' top-mast. A kind of conquest
- Caesar made here; but made not here his brag
- Of 'came, and saw, and overcame.' With shame-
- The first that ever touch'd him- he was carried
- From off our coast, twice beaten; and his shipping-
- Poor ignorant baubles!- on our terrible seas,
- Like egg-shells mov'd upon their surges, crack'd
- As easily 'gainst our rocks; for joy whereof
- The fam'd Cassibelan, who was once at point-
- O, giglot fortune!- to master Caesar's sword,
- Made Lud's Town with rejoicing fires bright
- And Britons strut with courage.
- CLOTEN. Come, there's no more tribute to be paid. Our kingdom is
- stronger than it was at that time; and, as I said, there is no
- moe such Caesars. Other of them may have crook'd noses; but to
- owe such straight arms, none.
- CYMBELINE. Son, let your mother end.
- CLOTEN. We have yet many among us can gripe as hard as Cassibelan.
- I do not say I am one; but I have a hand. Why tribute? Why should
- we pay tribute? If Caesar can hide the sun from us with a blanket,
- or put the moon in his pocket, we will pay him tribute for light;
- else, sir, no more tribute, pray you now.
- CYMBELINE. You must know,
- Till the injurious Romans did extort
- This tribute from us, we were free. Caesar's ambition-
- Which swell'd so much that it did almost stretch
- The sides o' th' world- against all colour here
- Did put the yoke upon's; which to shake of
- Becomes a warlike people, whom we reckon
- Ourselves to be.
- CLOTEN. We do.
- CYMBELINE. Say then to Caesar,
- Our ancestor was that Mulmutius which
- Ordain'd our laws- whose use the sword of Caesar
- Hath too much mangled; whose repair and franchise
- Shall, by the power we hold, be our good deed,
- Though Rome be therefore angry. Mulmutius made our laws,
- Who was the first of Britain which did put
- His brows within a golden crown, and call'd
- Himself a king.
- LUCIUS. I am sorry, Cymbeline,
- That I am to pronounce Augustus Caesar-
- Caesar, that hath moe kings his servants than
- Thyself domestic officers- thine enemy.
- Receive it from me, then: war and confusion
- In Caesar's name pronounce I 'gainst thee; look
- For fury not to be resisted. Thus defied,
- I thank thee for myself.
- CYMBELINE. Thou art welcome, Caius.
- Thy Caesar knighted me; my youth I spent
- Much under him; of him I gather'd honour,
- Which he to seek of me again, perforce,
- Behoves me keep at utterance. I am perfect
- That the Pannonians and Dalmatians for
- Their liberties are now in arms, a precedent
- Which not to read would show the Britons cold;
- So Caesar shall not find them.
- LUCIUS. Let proof speak.
- CLOTEN. His majesty bids you welcome. Make pastime with us a day or
- two, or longer. If you seek us afterwards in other terms, you
- shall find us in our salt-water girdle. If you beat us out of it,
- it is yours; if you fall in the adventure, our crows shall fare
- the better for you; and there's an end.
- LUCIUS. So, sir.
- CYMBELINE. I know your master's pleasure, and he mine;
- All the remain is, welcome. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-Britain. Another room in CYMBELINE'S palace
-
-Enter PISANIO reading of a letter
-
- PISANIO. How? of adultery? Wherefore write you not
- What monsters her accuse? Leonatus!
- O master, what a strange infection
- Is fall'n into thy ear! What false Italian-
- As poisonous-tongu'd as handed- hath prevail'd
- On thy too ready hearing? Disloyal? No.
- She's punish'd for her truth, and undergoes,
- More goddess-like than wife-like, such assaults
- As would take in some virtue. O my master!
- Thy mind to her is now as low as were
- Thy fortunes. How? that I should murder her?
- Upon the love, and truth, and vows, which I
- Have made to thy command? I, her? Her blood?
- If it be so to do good service, never
- Let me be counted serviceable. How look I
- That I should seem to lack humanity
- So much as this fact comes to? [Reads] 'Do't. The letter
- That I have sent her, by her own command
- Shall give thee opportunity.' O damn'd paper,
- Black as the ink that's on thee! Senseless bauble,
- Art thou a fedary for this act, and look'st
- So virgin-like without? Lo, here she comes.
-
- Enter IMOGEN
-
- I am ignorant in what I am commanded.
- IMOGEN. How now, Pisanio!
- PISANIO. Madam, here is a letter from my lord.
- IMOGEN. Who? thy lord? That is my lord- Leonatus?
- O, learn'd indeed were that astronomer
- That knew the stars as I his characters-
- He'd lay the future open. You good gods,
- Let what is here contain'd relish of love,
- Of my lord's health, of his content; yet not
- That we two are asunder- let that grieve him!
- Some griefs are med'cinable; that is one of them,
- For it doth physic love- of his content,
- All but in that. Good wax, thy leave. Blest be
- You bees that make these locks of counsel! Lovers
- And men in dangerous bonds pray not alike;
- Though forfeiters you cast in prison, yet
- You clasp young Cupid's tables. Good news, gods!
- [Reads]
- 'Justice and your father's wrath, should he take me in his
- dominion, could not be so cruel to me as you, O the dearest of
- creatures, would even renew me with your eyes. Take notice that I
- am in Cambria, at Milford Haven. What your own love will out of
- this advise you, follow. So he wishes you all happiness that
- remains loyal to his vow, and your increasing in love
- LEONATUS POSTHUMUS.'
-
- O for a horse with wings! Hear'st thou, Pisanio?
- He is at Milford Haven. Read, and tell me
- How far 'tis thither. If one of mean affairs
- May plod it in a week, why may not I
- Glide thither in a day? Then, true Pisanio-
- Who long'st like me to see thy lord, who long'st-
- O, let me 'bate!- but not like me, yet long'st,
- But in a fainter kind- O, not like me,
- For mine's beyond beyond!-say, and speak thick-
- Love's counsellor should fill the bores of hearing
- To th' smothering of the sense- how far it is
- To this same blessed Milford. And by th' way
- Tell me how Wales was made so happy as
- T' inherit such a haven. But first of all,
- How we may steal from hence; and for the gap
- That we shall make in time from our hence-going
- And our return, to excuse. But first, how get hence.
- Why should excuse be born or ere begot?
- We'll talk of that hereafter. Prithee speak,
- How many score of miles may we well ride
- 'Twixt hour and hour?
- PISANIO. One score 'twixt sun and sun,
- Madam, 's enough for you, and too much too.
- IMOGEN. Why, one that rode to's execution, man,
- Could never go so slow. I have heard of riding wagers
- Where horses have been nimbler than the sands
- That run i' th' clock's behalf. But this is fool'ry.
- Go bid my woman feign a sickness; say
- She'll home to her father; and provide me presently
- A riding suit, no costlier than would fit
- A franklin's huswife.
- PISANIO. Madam, you're best consider.
- IMOGEN. I see before me, man. Nor here, nor here,
- Nor what ensues, but have a fog in them
- That I cannot look through. Away, I prithee;
- Do as I bid thee. There's no more to say;
- Accessible is none but Milford way. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-Wales. A mountainous country with a cave
-
-Enter from the cave BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, and ARVIRAGUS
-
- BELARIUS. A goodly day not to keep house with such
- Whose roof's as low as ours! Stoop, boys; this gate
- Instructs you how t' adore the heavens, and bows you
- To a morning's holy office. The gates of monarchs
- Are arch'd so high that giants may jet through
- And keep their impious turbans on without
- Good morrow to the sun. Hail, thou fair heaven!
- We house i' th' rock, yet use thee not so hardly
- As prouder livers do.
- GUIDERIUS. Hail, heaven!
- ARVIRAGUS. Hail, heaven!
- BELARIUS. Now for our mountain sport. Up to yond hill,
- Your legs are young; I'll tread these flats. Consider,
- When you above perceive me like a crow,
- That it is place which lessens and sets off;
- And you may then revolve what tales I have told you
- Of courts, of princes, of the tricks in war.
- This service is not service so being done,
- But being so allow'd. To apprehend thus
- Draws us a profit from all things we see,
- And often to our comfort shall we find
- The sharded beetle in a safer hold
- Than is the full-wing'd eagle. O, this life
- Is nobler than attending for a check,
- Richer than doing nothing for a bribe,
- Prouder than rustling in unpaid-for silk:
- Such gain the cap of him that makes him fine,
- Yet keeps his book uncross'd. No life to ours!
- GUIDERIUS. Out of your proof you speak. We, poor unfledg'd,
- Have never wing'd from view o' th' nest, nor know not
- What air's from home. Haply this life is best,
- If quiet life be best; sweeter to you
- That have a sharper known; well corresponding
- With your stiff age. But unto us it is
- A cell of ignorance, travelling abed,
- A prison for a debtor that not dares
- To stride a limit.
- ARVIRAGUS. What should we speak of
- When we are old as you? When we shall hear
- The rain and wind beat dark December, how,
- In this our pinching cave, shall we discourse.
- The freezing hours away? We have seen nothing;
- We are beastly: subtle as the fox for prey,
- Like warlike as the wolf for what we eat.
- Our valour is to chase what flies; our cage
- We make a choir, as doth the prison'd bird,
- And sing our bondage freely.
- BELARIUS. How you speak!
- Did you but know the city's usuries,
- And felt them knowingly- the art o' th' court,
- As hard to leave as keep, whose top to climb
- Is certain falling, or so slipp'ry that
- The fear's as bad as falling; the toil o' th' war,
- A pain that only seems to seek out danger
- I' th'name of fame and honour, which dies i' th'search,
- And hath as oft a sland'rous epitaph
- As record of fair act; nay, many times,
- Doth ill deserve by doing well; what's worse-
- Must curtsy at the censure. O, boys, this story
- The world may read in me; my body's mark'd
- With Roman swords, and my report was once
- first with the best of note. Cymbeline lov'd me;
- And when a soldier was the theme, my name
- Was not far off. Then was I as a tree
- Whose boughs did bend with fruit; but in one night
- A storm, or robbery, call it what you will,
- Shook down my mellow hangings, nay, my leaves,
- And left me bare to weather.
- GUIDERIUS. Uncertain favour!
- BELARIUS. My fault being nothing- as I have told you oft-
- But that two villains, whose false oaths prevail'd
- Before my perfect honour, swore to Cymbeline
- I was confederate with the Romans. So
- Follow'd my banishment, and this twenty years
- This rock and these demesnes have been my world,
- Where I have liv'd at honest freedom, paid
- More pious debts to heaven than in all
- The fore-end of my time. But up to th' mountains!
- This is not hunters' language. He that strikes
- The venison first shall be the lord o' th' feast;
- To him the other two shall minister;
- And we will fear no poison, which attends
- In place of greater state. I'll meet you in the valleys.
- Exeunt GUIDERIUS and ARVIRAGUS
- How hard it is to hide the sparks of nature!
- These boys know little they are sons to th' King,
- Nor Cymbeline dreams that they are alive.
- They think they are mine; and though train'd up thus meanly
- I' th' cave wherein they bow, their thoughts do hit
- The roofs of palaces, and nature prompts them
- In simple and low things to prince it much
- Beyond the trick of others. This Polydore,
- The heir of Cymbeline and Britain, who
- The King his father call'd Guiderius- Jove!
- When on my three-foot stool I sit and tell
- The warlike feats I have done, his spirits fly out
- Into my story; say 'Thus mine enemy fell,
- And thus I set my foot on's neck'; even then
- The princely blood flows in his cheek, he sweats,
- Strains his young nerves, and puts himself in posture
- That acts my words. The younger brother, Cadwal,
- Once Arviragus, in as like a figure
- Strikes life into my speech, and shows much more
- His own conceiving. Hark, the game is rous'd!
- O Cymbeline, heaven and my conscience knows
- Thou didst unjustly banish me! Whereon,
- At three and two years old, I stole these babes,
- Thinking to bar thee of succession as
- Thou refts me of my lands. Euriphile,
- Thou wast their nurse; they took thee for their mother,
- And every day do honour to her grave.
- Myself, Belarius, that am Morgan call'd,
- They take for natural father. The game is up. Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE IV.
-Wales, near Milford Haven
-
-Enter PISANIO and IMOGEN
-
- IMOGEN. Thou told'st me, when we came from horse, the place
- Was near at hand. Ne'er long'd my mother so
- To see me first as I have now. Pisanio! Man!
- Where is Posthumus? What is in thy mind
- That makes thee stare thus? Wherefore breaks that sigh
- From th' inward of thee? One but painted thus
- Would be interpreted a thing perplex'd
- Beyond self-explication. Put thyself
- Into a haviour of less fear, ere wildness
- Vanquish my staider senses. What's the matter?
- Why tender'st thou that paper to me with
- A look untender! If't be summer news,
- Smile to't before; if winterly, thou need'st
- But keep that count'nance still. My husband's hand?
- That drug-damn'd Italy hath out-craftied him,
- And he's at some hard point. Speak, man; thy tongue
- May take off some extremity, which to read
- Would be even mortal to me.
- PISANIO. Please you read,
- And you shall find me, wretched man, a thing
- The most disdain'd of fortune.
- IMOGEN. [Reads] 'Thy mistress, Pisanio, hath play'd the strumpet in
- my bed, the testimonies whereof lie bleeding in me. I speak not
- out of weak surmises, but from proof as strong as my grief and as
- certain as I expect my revenge. That part thou, Pisanio, must act
- for me, if thy faith be not tainted with the breach of hers. Let
- thine own hands take away her life; I shall give thee opportunity
- at Milford Haven; she hath my letter for the purpose; where, if
- thou fear to strike, and to make me certain it is done, thou art
- the pander to her dishonour, and equally to me disloyal.'
- PISANIO. What shall I need to draw my sword? The paper
- Hath cut her throat already. No, 'tis slander,
- Whose edge is sharper than the sword, whose tongue
- Outvenoms all the worms of Nile, whose breath
- Rides on the posting winds and doth belie
- All corners of the world. Kings, queens, and states,
- Maids, matrons, nay, the secrets of the grave,
- This viperous slander enters. What cheer, madam?
- IMOGEN. False to his bed? What is it to be false?
- To lie in watch there, and to think on him?
- To weep twixt clock and clock? If sleep charge nature,
- To break it with a fearful dream of him,
- And cry myself awake? That's false to's bed,
- Is it?
- PISANIO. Alas, good lady!
- IMOGEN. I false! Thy conscience witness! Iachimo,
- Thou didst accuse him of incontinency;
- Thou then look'dst like a villain; now, methinks,
- Thy favour's good enough. Some jay of Italy,
- Whose mother was her painting, hath betray'd him.
- Poor I am stale, a garment out of fashion,
- And for I am richer than to hang by th' walls
- I must be ripp'd. To pieces with me! O,
- Men's vows are women's traitors! All good seeming,
- By thy revolt, O husband, shall be thought
- Put on for villainy; not born where't grows,
- But worn a bait for ladies.
- PISANIO. Good madam, hear me.
- IMOGEN. True honest men being heard, like false Aeneas,
- Were, in his time, thought false; and Sinon's weeping
- Did scandal many a holy tear, took pity
- From most true wretchedness. So thou, Posthumus,
- Wilt lay the leaven on all proper men:
- Goodly and gallant shall be false and perjur'd
- From thy great fail. Come, fellow, be thou honest;
- Do thou thy master's bidding; when thou seest him,
- A little witness my obedience. Look!
- I draw the sword myself; take it, and hit
- The innocent mansion of my love, my heart.
- Fear not; 'tis empty of all things but grief;
- Thy master is not there, who was indeed
- The riches of it. Do his bidding; strike.
- Thou mayst be valiant in a better cause,
- But now thou seem'st a coward.
- PISANIO. Hence, vile instrument!
- Thou shalt not damn my hand.
- IMOGEN. Why, I must die;
- And if I do not by thy hand, thou art
- No servant of thy master's. Against self-slaughter
- There is a prohibition so divine
- That cravens my weak hand. Come, here's my heart-
- Something's afore't. Soft, soft! we'll no defence!-
- Obedient as the scabbard. What is here?
- The scriptures of the loyal Leonatus
- All turn'd to heresy? Away, away,
- Corrupters of my faith! you shall no more
- Be stomachers to my heart. Thus may poor fools
- Believe false teachers; though those that are betray'd
- Do feel the treason sharply, yet the traitor
- Stands in worse case of woe. And thou, Posthumus,
- That didst set up my disobedience 'gainst the King
- My father, and make me put into contempt the suits
- Of princely fellows, shalt hereafter find
- It is no act of common passage but
- A strain of rareness; and I grieve myself
- To think, when thou shalt be disedg'd by her
- That now thou tirest on, how thy memory
- Will then be pang'd by me. Prithee dispatch.
- The lamp entreats the butcher. Where's thy knife?
- Thou art too slow to do thy master's bidding,
- When I desire it too.
- PISANIO. O gracious lady,
- Since I receiv'd command to do this busines
- I have not slept one wink.
- IMOGEN. Do't, and to bed then.
- PISANIO. I'll wake mine eyeballs first.
- IMOGEN. Wherefore then
- Didst undertake it? Why hast thou abus'd
- So many miles with a pretence? This place?
- Mine action and thine own? our horses' labour?
- The time inviting thee? the perturb'd court,
- For my being absent?- whereunto I never
- Purpose return. Why hast thou gone so far
- To be unbent when thou hast ta'en thy stand,
- Th' elected deer before thee?
- PISANIO. But to win time
- To lose so bad employment, in the which
- I have consider'd of a course. Good lady,
- Hear me with patience.
- IMOGEN. Talk thy tongue weary- speak.
- I have heard I am a strumpet, and mine ear,
- Therein false struck, can take no greater wound,
- Nor tent to bottom that. But speak.
- PISANIO. Then, madam,
- I thought you would not back again.
- IMOGEN. Most like-
- Bringing me here to kill me.
- PISANIO. Not so, neither;
- But if I were as wise as honest, then
- My purpose would prove well. It cannot be
- But that my master is abus'd. Some villain,
- Ay, and singular in his art, hath done you both
- This cursed injury.
- IMOGEN. Some Roman courtezan!
- PISANIO. No, on my life!
- I'll give but notice you are dead, and send him
- Some bloody sign of it, for 'tis commanded
- I should do so. You shall be miss'd at court,
- And that will well confirm it.
- IMOGEN. Why, good fellow,
- What shall I do the while? where bide? how live?
- Or in my life what comfort, when I am
- Dead to my husband?
- PISANIO. If you'll back to th' court-
- IMOGEN. No court, no father, nor no more ado
- With that harsh, noble, simple nothing-
- That Cloten, whose love-suit hath been to me
- As fearful as a siege.
- PISANIO. If not at court,
- Then not in Britain must you bide.
- IMOGEN. Where then?
- Hath Britain all the sun that shines? Day, night,
- Are they not but in Britain? I' th' world's volume
- Our Britain seems as of it, but not in't;
- In a great pool a swan's nest. Prithee think
- There's livers out of Britain.
- PISANIO. I am most glad
- You think of other place. Th' ambassador,
- LUCIUS the Roman, comes to Milford Haven
- To-morrow. Now, if you could wear a mind
- Dark as your fortune is, and but disguise
- That which t' appear itself must not yet be
- But by self-danger, you should tread a course
- Pretty and full of view; yea, happily, near
- The residence of Posthumus; so nigh, at least,
- That though his actions were not visible, yet
- Report should render him hourly to your ear
- As truly as he moves.
- IMOGEN. O! for such means,
- Though peril to my modesty, not death on't,
- I would adventure.
- PISANIO. Well then, here's the point:
- You must forget to be a woman; change
- Command into obedience; fear and niceness-
- The handmaids of all women, or, more truly,
- Woman it pretty self- into a waggish courage;
- Ready in gibes, quick-answer'd, saucy, and
- As quarrelous as the weasel. Nay, you must
- Forget that rarest treasure of your cheek,
- Exposing it- but, O, the harder heart!
- Alack, no remedy!- to the greedy touch
- Of common-kissing Titan, and forget
- Your laboursome and dainty trims wherein
- You made great Juno angry.
- IMOGEN. Nay, be brief;
- I see into thy end, and am almost
- A man already.
- PISANIO. First, make yourself but like one.
- Fore-thinking this, I have already fit-
- 'Tis in my cloak-bag- doublet, hat, hose, all
- That answer to them. Would you, in their serving,
- And with what imitation you can borrow
- From youth of such a season, fore noble Lucius
- Present yourself, desire his service, tell him
- Wherein you're happy- which will make him know
- If that his head have ear in music; doubtless
- With joy he will embrace you; for he's honourable,
- And, doubling that, most holy. Your means abroad-
- You have me, rich; and I will never fail
- Beginning nor supplyment.
- IMOGEN. Thou art all the comfort
- The gods will diet me with. Prithee away!
- There's more to be consider'd; but we'll even
- All that good time will give us. This attempt
- I am soldier to, and will abide it with
- A prince's courage. Away, I prithee.
- PISANIO. Well, madam, we must take a short farewell,
- Lest, being miss'd, I be suspected of
- Your carriage from the court. My noble mistress,
- Here is a box; I had it from the Queen.
- What's in't is precious. If you are sick at sea
- Or stomach-qualm'd at land, a dram of this
- Will drive away distemper. To some shade,
- And fit you to your manhood. May the gods
- Direct you to the best!
- IMOGEN. Amen. I thank thee. Exeunt severally
-
-
-
-
-SCENE V.
-Britain. CYMBELINE'S palace
-
-Enter CYMBELINE, QUEEN, CLOTEN, LUCIUS, and LORDS
-
- CYMBELINE. Thus far; and so farewell.
- LUCIUS. Thanks, royal sir.
- My emperor hath wrote; I must from hence,
- And am right sorry that I must report ye
- My master's enemy.
- CYMBELINE. Our subjects, sir,
- Will not endure his yoke; and for ourself
- To show less sovereignty than they, must needs
- Appear unkinglike.
- LUCIUS. So, sir. I desire of you
- A conduct overland to Milford Haven.
- Madam, all joy befall your Grace, and you!
- CYMBELINE. My lords, you are appointed for that office;
- The due of honour in no point omit.
- So farewell, noble Lucius.
- LUCIUS. Your hand, my lord.
- CLOTEN. Receive it friendly; but from this time forth
- I wear it as your enemy.
- LUCIUS. Sir, the event
- Is yet to name the winner. Fare you well.
- CYMBELINE. Leave not the worthy Lucius, good my lords,
- Till he have cross'd the Severn. Happiness!
- Exeunt LUCIUS and LORDS
- QUEEN. He goes hence frowning; but it honours us
- That we have given him cause.
- CLOTEN. 'Tis all the better;
- Your valiant Britons have their wishes in it.
- CYMBELINE. Lucius hath wrote already to the Emperor
- How it goes here. It fits us therefore ripely
- Our chariots and our horsemen be in readiness.
- The pow'rs that he already hath in Gallia
- Will soon be drawn to head, from whence he moves
- His war for Britain.
- QUEEN. 'Tis not sleepy business,
- But must be look'd to speedily and strongly.
- CYMBELINE. Our expectation that it would be thus
- Hath made us forward. But, my gentle queen,
- Where is our daughter? She hath not appear'd
- Before the Roman, nor to us hath tender'd
- The duty of the day. She looks us like
- A thing more made of malice than of duty;
- We have noted it. Call her before us, for
- We have been too slight in sufferance. Exit a MESSENGER
- QUEEN. Royal sir,
- Since the exile of Posthumus, most retir'd
- Hath her life been; the cure whereof, my lord,
- 'Tis time must do. Beseech your Majesty,
- Forbear sharp speeches to her; she's a lady
- So tender of rebukes that words are strokes,
- And strokes death to her.
-
- Re-enter MESSENGER
-
- CYMBELINE. Where is she, sir? How
- Can her contempt be answer'd?
- MESSENGER. Please you, sir,
- Her chambers are all lock'd, and there's no answer
- That will be given to th' loud of noise we make.
- QUEEN. My lord, when last I went to visit her,
- She pray'd me to excuse her keeping close;
- Whereto constrain'd by her infirmity
- She should that duty leave unpaid to you
- Which daily she was bound to proffer. This
- She wish'd me to make known; but our great court
- Made me to blame in memory.
- CYMBELINE. Her doors lock'd?
- Not seen of late? Grant, heavens, that which I fear
- Prove false! Exit
- QUEEN. Son, I say, follow the King.
- CLOTEN. That man of hers, Pisanio, her old servant,
- I have not seen these two days.
- QUEEN. Go, look after. Exit CLOTEN
- Pisanio, thou that stand'st so for Posthumus!
- He hath a drug of mine. I pray his absence
- Proceed by swallowing that; for he believes
- It is a thing most precious. But for her,
- Where is she gone? Haply despair hath seiz'd her;
- Or, wing'd with fervour of her love, she's flown
- To her desir'd Posthumus. Gone she is
- To death or to dishonour, and my end
- Can make good use of either. She being down,
- I have the placing of the British crown.
-
- Re-enter CLOTEN
-
- How now, my son?
- CLOTEN. 'Tis certain she is fled.
- Go in and cheer the King. He rages; none
- Dare come about him.
- QUEEN. All the better. May
- This night forestall him of the coming day! Exit
- CLOTEN. I love and hate her; for she's fair and royal,
- And that she hath all courtly parts more exquisite
- Than lady, ladies, woman. From every one
- The best she hath, and she, of all compounded,
- Outsells them all. I love her therefore; but
- Disdaining me and throwing favours on
- The low Posthumus slanders so her judgment
- That what's else rare is chok'd; and in that point
- I will conclude to hate her, nay, indeed,
- To be reveng'd upon her. For when fools
- Shall-
-
- Enter PISANIO
-
- Who is here? What, are you packing, sirrah?
- Come hither. Ah, you precious pander! Villain,
- Where is thy lady? In a word, or else
- Thou art straightway with the fiends.
- PISANIO. O good my lord!
- CLOTEN. Where is thy lady? or, by Jupiter-
- I will not ask again. Close villain,
- I'll have this secret from thy heart, or rip
- Thy heart to find it. Is she with Posthumus?
- From whose so many weights of baseness cannot
- A dram of worth be drawn.
- PISANIO. Alas, my lord,
- How can she be with him? When was she miss'd?
- He is in Rome.
- CLOTEN. Where is she, sir? Come nearer.
- No farther halting! Satisfy me home
- What is become of her.
- PISANIO. O my all-worthy lord!
- CLOTEN. All-worthy villain!
- Discover where thy mistress is at once,
- At the next word. No more of 'worthy lord'!
- Speak, or thy silence on the instant is
- Thy condemnation and thy death.
- PISANIO. Then, sir,
- This paper is the history of my knowledge
- Touching her flight. [Presenting a letter]
- CLOTEN. Let's see't. I will pursue her
- Even to Augustus' throne.
- PISANIO. [Aside] Or this or perish.
- She's far enough; and what he learns by this
- May prove his travel, not her danger.
- CLOTEN. Humh!
- PISANIO. [Aside] I'll write to my lord she's dead. O Imogen,
- Safe mayst thou wander, safe return again!
- CLOTEN. Sirrah, is this letter true?
- PISANIO. Sir, as I think.
- CLOTEN. It is Posthumus' hand; I know't. Sirrah, if thou wouldst
- not be a villain, but do me true service, undergo those
- employments wherein I should have cause to use thee with a
- serious industry- that is, what villainy soe'er I bid thee do, to
- perform it directly and truly- I would think thee an honest man;
- thou shouldst neither want my means for thy relief nor my voice
- for thy preferment.
- PISANIO. Well, my good lord.
- CLOTEN. Wilt thou serve me? For since patiently and constantly thou
- hast stuck to the bare fortune of that beggar Posthumus, thou
- canst not, in the course of gratitude, but be a diligent follower
- of mine. Wilt thou serve me?
- PISANIO. Sir, I will.
- CLOTEN. Give me thy hand; here's my purse. Hast any of thy late
- master's garments in thy possession?
- PISANIO. I have, my lord, at my lodging, the same suit he wore when
- he took leave of my lady and mistress.
- CLOTEN. The first service thou dost me, fetch that suit hither. Let
- it be thy first service; go.
- PISANIO. I shall, my lord. Exit
- CLOTEN. Meet thee at Milford Haven! I forgot to ask him one thing;
- I'll remember't anon. Even there, thou villain Posthumus, will I
- kill thee. I would these garments were come. She said upon a
- time- the bitterness of it I now belch from my heart- that she
- held the very garment of Posthumus in more respect than my noble
- and natural person, together with the adornment of my qualities.
- With that suit upon my back will I ravish her; first kill him,
- and in her eyes. There shall she see my valour, which will then
- be a torment to her contempt. He on the ground, my speech of
- insultment ended on his dead body, and when my lust hath dined-
- which, as I say, to vex her I will execute in the clothes that
- she so prais'd- to the court I'll knock her back, foot her home
- again. She hath despis'd me rejoicingly, and I'll be merry in my
- revenge.
-
- Re-enter PISANIO, with the clothes
-
- Be those the garments?
- PISANIO. Ay, my noble lord.
- CLOTEN. How long is't since she went to Milford Haven?
- PISANIO. She can scarce be there yet.
- CLOTEN. Bring this apparel to my chamber; that is the second thing
- that I have commanded thee. The third is that thou wilt be a
- voluntary mute to my design. Be but duteous and true, preferment
- shall tender itself to thee. My revenge is now at Milford, would
- I had wings to follow it! Come, and be true. Exit
- PISANIO. Thou bid'st me to my loss; for true to thee
- Were to prove false, which I will never be,
- To him that is most true. To Milford go,
- And find not her whom thou pursuest. Flow, flow,
- You heavenly blessings, on her! This fool's speed
- Be cross'd with slowness! Labour be his meed! Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE VI.
-Wales. Before the cave of BELARIUS
-
-Enter IMOGEN alone, in boy's clothes
-
- IMOGEN. I see a man's life is a tedious one.
- I have tir'd myself, and for two nights together
- Have made the ground my bed. I should be sick
- But that my resolution helps me. Milford,
- When from the mountain-top Pisanio show'd thee,
- Thou wast within a ken. O Jove! I think
- Foundations fly the wretched; such, I mean,
- Where they should be reliev'd. Two beggars told me
- I could not miss my way. Will poor folks lie,
- That have afflictions on them, knowing 'tis
- A punishment or trial? Yes; no wonder,
- When rich ones scarce tell true. To lapse in fulness
- Is sorer than to lie for need; and falsehood
- Is worse in kings than beggars. My dear lord!
- Thou art one o' th' false ones. Now I think on thee
- My hunger's gone; but even before, I was
- At point to sink for food. But what is this?
- Here is a path to't; 'tis some savage hold.
- I were best not call; I dare not call. Yet famine,
- Ere clean it o'erthrow nature, makes it valiant.
- Plenty and peace breeds cowards; hardness ever
- Of hardiness is mother. Ho! who's here?
- If anything that's civil, speak; if savage,
- Take or lend. Ho! No answer? Then I'll enter.
- Best draw my sword; and if mine enemy
- But fear the sword, like me, he'll scarcely look on't.
- Such a foe, good heavens! Exit into the cave
-
- Enter BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, and ARVIRAGUS
-
- BELARIUS. You, Polydore, have prov'd best woodman and
- Are master of the feast. Cadwal and I
- Will play the cook and servant; 'tis our match.
- The sweat of industry would dry and die
- But for the end it works to. Come, our stomachs
- Will make what's homely savoury; weariness
- Can snore upon the flint, when resty sloth
- Finds the down pillow hard. Now, peace be here,
- Poor house, that keep'st thyself!
- GUIDERIUS. I am thoroughly weary.
- ARVIRAGUS. I am weak with toil, yet strong in appetite.
- GUIDERIUS. There is cold meat i' th' cave; we'll browse on that
- Whilst what we have kill'd be cook'd.
- BELARIUS. [Looking into the cave] Stay, come not in.
- But that it eats our victuals, I should think
- Here were a fairy.
- GUIDERIUS. What's the matter, sir?
- BELARIUS.. By Jupiter, an angel! or, if not,
- An earthly paragon! Behold divineness
- No elder than a boy!
-
- Re-enter IMOGEN
-
- IMOGEN. Good masters, harm me not.
- Before I enter'd here I call'd, and thought
- To have begg'd or bought what I have took. Good troth,
- I have stol'n nought; nor would not though I had found
- Gold strew'd i' th' floor. Here's money for my meat.
- I would have left it on the board, so soon
- As I had made my meal, and parted
- With pray'rs for the provider.
- GUIDERIUS. Money, youth?
- ARVIRAGUS. All gold and silver rather turn to dirt,
- As 'tis no better reckon'd but of those
- Who worship dirty gods.
- IMOGEN. I see you're angry.
- Know, if you kill me for my fault, I should
- Have died had I not made it.
- BELARIUS. Whither bound?
- IMOGEN. To Milford Haven.
- BELARIUS. What's your name?
- IMOGEN. Fidele, sir. I have a kinsman who
- Is bound for Italy; he embark'd at Milford;
- To whom being going, almost spent with hunger,
- I am fall'n in this offence.
- BELARIUS. Prithee, fair youth,
- Think us no churls, nor measure our good minds
- By this rude place we live in. Well encounter'd!
- 'Tis almost night; you shall have better cheer
- Ere you depart, and thanks to stay and eat it.
- Boys, bid him welcome.
- GUIDERIUS. Were you a woman, youth,
- I should woo hard but be your groom. In honesty
- I bid for you as I'd buy.
- ARVIRAGUS. I'll make't my comfort
- He is a man. I'll love him as my brother;
- And such a welcome as I'd give to him
- After long absence, such is yours. Most welcome!
- Be sprightly, for you fall 'mongst friends.
- IMOGEN. 'Mongst friends,
- If brothers. [Aside] Would it had been so that they
- Had been my father's sons! Then had my prize
- Been less, and so more equal ballasting
- To thee, Posthumus.
- BELARIUS. He wrings at some distress.
- GUIDERIUS. Would I could free't!
- ARVIRAGUS. Or I, whate'er it be,
- What pain it cost, what danger! Gods!
- BELARIUS. [Whispering] Hark, boys.
- IMOGEN. [Aside] Great men,
- That had a court no bigger than this cave,
- That did attend themselves, and had the virtue
- Which their own conscience seal'd them, laying by
- That nothing-gift of differing multitudes,
- Could not out-peer these twain. Pardon me, gods!
- I'd change my sex to be companion with them,
- Since Leonatus' false.
- BELARIUS. It shall be so.
- Boys, we'll go dress our hunt. Fair youth, come in.
- Discourse is heavy, fasting; when we have supp'd,
- We'll mannerly demand thee of thy story,
- So far as thou wilt speak it.
- GUIDERIUS. Pray draw near.
- ARVIRAGUS. The night to th' owl and morn to th' lark less welcome.
- IMOGEN. Thanks, sir.
- ARVIRAGUS. I pray draw near. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE VII.
-Rome. A public place
-
-Enter two ROMAN SENATORS and TRIBUNES
-
- FIRST SENATOR. This is the tenour of the Emperor's writ:
- That since the common men are now in action
- 'Gainst the Pannonians and Dalmatians,
- And that the legions now in Gallia are
- Full weak to undertake our wars against
- The fall'n-off Britons, that we do incite
- The gentry to this business. He creates
- Lucius proconsul; and to you, the tribunes,
- For this immediate levy, he commands
- His absolute commission. Long live Caesar!
- TRIBUNE. Is Lucius general of the forces?
- SECOND SENATOR. Ay.
- TRIBUNE. Remaining now in Gallia?
- FIRST SENATOR. With those legions
- Which I have spoke of, whereunto your levy
- Must be supplyant. The words of your commission
- Will tie you to the numbers and the time
- Of their dispatch.
- TRIBUNE. We will discharge our duty. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-ACT IV. SCENE I.
-Wales. Near the cave of BELARIUS
-
-Enter CLOTEN alone
-
- CLOTEN. I am near to th' place where they should meet, if Pisanio
- have mapp'd it truly. How fit his garments serve me! Why should
- his mistress, who was made by him that made the tailor, not be
- fit too? The rather- saving reverence of the word- for 'tis said
- a woman's fitness comes by fits. Therein I must play the workman.
- I dare speak it to myself, for it is not vain-glory for a man and
- his glass to confer in his own chamber- I mean, the lines of my
- body are as well drawn as his; no less young, more strong, not
- beneath him in fortunes, beyond him in the advantage of the time,
- above him in birth, alike conversant in general services, and
- more remarkable in single oppositions. Yet this imperceiverant
- thing loves him in my despite. What mortality is! Posthumus, thy
- head, which now is growing upon thy shoulders, shall within this
- hour be off; thy mistress enforced; thy garments cut to pieces
- before her face; and all this done, spurn her home to her father,
- who may, haply, be a little angry for my so rough usage; but my
- mother, having power of his testiness, shall turn all into my
- commendations. My horse is tied up safe. Out, sword, and to a
- sore purpose! Fortune, put them into my hand. This is the very
- description of their meeting-place; and the fellow dares not
- deceive me. Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-Wales. Before the cave of BELARIUS
-
-Enter, from the cave, BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, ARVIRAGUS, and IMOGEN
-
- BELARIUS. [To IMOGEN] You are not well. Remain here in the cave;
- We'll come to you after hunting.
- ARVIRAGUS. [To IMOGEN] Brother, stay here.
- Are we not brothers?
- IMOGEN. So man and man should be;
- But clay and clay differs in dignity,
- Whose dust is both alike. I am very sick.
- GUIDERIUS. Go you to hunting; I'll abide with him.
- IMOGEN. So sick I am not, yet I am not well;
- But not so citizen a wanton as
- To seem to die ere sick. So please you, leave me;
- Stick to your journal course. The breach of custom
- Is breach of all. I am ill, but your being by me
- Cannot amend me; society is no comfort
- To one not sociable. I am not very sick,
- Since I can reason of it. Pray you trust me here.
- I'll rob none but myself; and let me die,
- Stealing so poorly.
- GUIDERIUS. I love thee; I have spoke it.
- How much the quantity, the weight as much
- As I do love my father.
- BELARIUS. What? how? how?
- ARVIRAGUS. If it be sin to say so, sir, I yoke me
- In my good brother's fault. I know not why
- I love this youth, and I have heard you say
- Love's reason's without reason. The bier at door,
- And a demand who is't shall die, I'd say
- 'My father, not this youth.'
- BELARIUS. [Aside] O noble strain!
- O worthiness of nature! breed of greatness!
- Cowards father cowards and base things sire base.
- Nature hath meal and bran, contempt and grace.
- I'm not their father; yet who this should be
- Doth miracle itself, lov'd before me.-
- 'Tis the ninth hour o' th' morn.
- ARVIRAGUS. Brother, farewell.
- IMOGEN. I wish ye sport.
- ARVIRAGUS. Your health. [To BELARIUS] So please you, sir.
- IMOGEN. [Aside] These are kind creatures. Gods, what lies I have
- heard!
- Our courtiers say all's savage but at court.
- Experience, O, thou disprov'st report!
- Th' imperious seas breed monsters; for the dish,
- Poor tributary rivers as sweet fish.
- I am sick still; heart-sick. Pisanio,
- I'll now taste of thy drug. [Swallows some]
- GUIDERIUS. I could not stir him.
- He said he was gentle, but unfortunate;
- Dishonestly afflicted, but yet honest.
- ARVIRAGUS. Thus did he answer me; yet said hereafter
- I might know more.
- BELARIUS. To th' field, to th' field!
- We'll leave you for this time. Go in and rest.
- ARVIRAGUS. We'll not be long away.
- BELARIUS. Pray be not sick,
- For you must be our huswife.
- IMOGEN. Well, or ill,
- I am bound to you.
- BELARIUS. And shalt be ever. Exit IMOGEN into the cave
- This youth, howe'er distress'd, appears he hath had
- Good ancestors.
- ARVIRAGUS. How angel-like he sings!
- GUIDERIUS. But his neat cookery! He cut our roots in characters,
- And sauc'd our broths as Juno had been sick,
- And he her dieter.
- ARVIRAGUS. Nobly he yokes
- A smiling with a sigh, as if the sigh
- Was that it was for not being such a smile;
- The smile mocking the sigh that it would fly
- From so divine a temple to commix
- With winds that sailors rail at.
- GUIDERIUS. I do note
- That grief and patience, rooted in him both,
- Mingle their spurs together.
- ARVIRAGUS. Grow patience!
- And let the stinking elder, grief, untwine
- His perishing root with the increasing vine!
- BELARIUS. It is great morning. Come, away! Who's there?
-
- Enter CLOTEN
-
- CLOTEN. I cannot find those runagates; that villain
- Hath mock'd me. I am faint.
- BELARIUS. Those runagates?
- Means he not us? I partly know him; 'tis
- Cloten, the son o' th' Queen. I fear some ambush.
- I saw him not these many years, and yet
- I know 'tis he. We are held as outlaws. Hence!
- GUIDERIUS. He is but one; you and my brother search
- What companies are near. Pray you away;
- Let me alone with him. Exeunt BELARIUS and ARVIRAGUS
- CLOTEN. Soft! What are you
- That fly me thus? Some villain mountaineers?
- I have heard of such. What slave art thou?
- GUIDERIUS. A thing
- More slavish did I ne'er than answering
- 'A slave' without a knock.
- CLOTEN. Thou art a robber,
- A law-breaker, a villain. Yield thee, thief.
- GUIDERIUS. To who? To thee? What art thou? Have not I
- An arm as big as thine, a heart as big?
- Thy words, I grant, are bigger, for I wear not
- My dagger in my mouth. Say what thou art;
- Why I should yield to thee.
- CLOTEN. Thou villain base,
- Know'st me not by my clothes?
- GUIDERIUS. No, nor thy tailor, rascal,
- Who is thy grandfather; he made those clothes,
- Which, as it seems, make thee.
- CLOTEN. Thou precious varlet,
- My tailor made them not.
- GUIDERIUS. Hence, then, and thank
- The man that gave them thee. Thou art some fool;
- I am loath to beat thee.
- CLOTEN. Thou injurious thief,
- Hear but my name, and tremble.
- GUIDERIUS. What's thy name?
- CLOTEN. Cloten, thou villain.
- GUIDERIUS. Cloten, thou double villain, be thy name,
- I cannot tremble at it. Were it toad, or adder, spider,
- 'Twould move me sooner.
- CLOTEN. To thy further fear,
- Nay, to thy mere confusion, thou shalt know
- I am son to th' Queen.
- GUIDERIUS. I'm sorry for't; not seeming
- So worthy as thy birth.
- CLOTEN. Art not afeard?
- GUIDERIUS. Those that I reverence, those I fear- the wise:
- At fools I laugh, not fear them.
- CLOTEN. Die the death.
- When I have slain thee with my proper hand,
- I'll follow those that even now fled hence,
- And on the gates of Lud's Town set your heads.
- Yield, rustic mountaineer. Exeunt, fighting
-
- Re-enter BELARIUS and ARVIRAGUS
-
- BELARIUS. No company's abroad.
- ARVIRAGUS. None in the world; you did mistake him, sure.
- BELARIUS. I cannot tell; long is it since I saw him,
- But time hath nothing blurr'd those lines of favour
- Which then he wore; the snatches in his voice,
- And burst of speaking, were as his. I am absolute
- 'Twas very Cloten.
- ARVIRAGUS. In this place we left them.
- I wish my brother make good time with him,
- You say he is so fell.
- BELARIUS. Being scarce made up,
- I mean to man, he had not apprehension
- Or roaring terrors; for defect of judgment
- Is oft the cease of fear.
-
- Re-enter GUIDERIUS with CLOTEN'S head
-
- But, see, thy brother.
- GUIDERIUS. This Cloten was a fool, an empty purse;
- There was no money in't. Not Hercules
- Could have knock'd out his brains, for he had none;
- Yet I not doing this, the fool had borne
- My head as I do his.
- BELARIUS. What hast thou done?
- GUIDERIUS. I am perfect what: cut off one Cloten's head,
- Son to the Queen, after his own report;
- Who call'd me traitor, mountaineer, and swore
- With his own single hand he'd take us in,
- Displace our heads where- thank the gods!- they grow,
- And set them on Lud's Town.
- BELARIUS. We are all undone.
- GUIDERIUS. Why, worthy father, what have we to lose
- But that he swore to take, our lives? The law
- Protects not us; then why should we be tender
- To let an arrogant piece of flesh threat us,
- Play judge and executioner all himself,
- For we do fear the law? What company
- Discover you abroad?
- BELARIUS. No single soul
- Can we set eye on, but in an safe reason
- He must have some attendants. Though his humour
- Was nothing but mutation- ay, and that
- From one bad thing to worse- not frenzy, not
- Absolute madness could so far have rav'd,
- To bring him here alone. Although perhaps
- It may be heard at court that such as we
- Cave here, hunt here, are outlaws, and in time
- May make some stronger head- the which he hearing,
- As it is like him, might break out and swear
- He'd fetch us in; yet is't not probable
- To come alone, either he so undertaking
- Or they so suffering. Then on good ground we fear,
- If we do fear this body hath a tail
- More perilous than the head.
- ARVIRAGUS. Let ordinance
- Come as the gods foresay it. Howsoe'er,
- My brother hath done well.
- BELARIUS. I had no mind
- To hunt this day; the boy Fidele's sickness
- Did make my way long forth.
- GUIDERIUS. With his own sword,
- Which he did wave against my throat, I have ta'en
- His head from him. I'll throw't into the creek
- Behind our rock, and let it to the sea
- And tell the fishes he's the Queen's son, Cloten.
- That's all I reck. Exit
- BELARIUS. I fear'twill be reveng'd.
- Would, Polydore, thou hadst not done't! though valour
- Becomes thee well enough.
- ARVIRAGUS. Would I had done't,
- So the revenge alone pursu'd me! Polydore,
- I love thee brotherly, but envy much
- Thou hast robb'd me of this deed. I would revenges,
- That possible strength might meet, would seek us through,
- And put us to our answer.
- BELARIUS. Well, 'tis done.
- We'll hunt no more to-day, nor seek for danger
- Where there's no profit. I prithee to our rock.
- You and Fidele play the cooks; I'll stay
- Till hasty Polydore return, and bring him
- To dinner presently.
- ARVIRAGUS. Poor sick Fidele!
- I'll willingly to him; to gain his colour
- I'd let a parish of such Cloten's blood,
- And praise myself for charity. Exit
- BELARIUS. O thou goddess,
- Thou divine Nature, thou thyself thou blazon'st
- In these two princely boys! They are as gentle
- As zephyrs blowing below the violet,
- Not wagging his sweet head; and yet as rough,
- Their royal blood enchaf'd, as the rud'st wind
- That by the top doth take the mountain pine
- And make him stoop to th' vale. 'Tis wonder
- That an invisible instinct should frame them
- To royalty unlearn'd, honour untaught,
- Civility not seen from other, valour
- That wildly grows in them, but yields a crop
- As if it had been sow'd. Yet still it's strange
- What Cloten's being here to us portends,
- Or what his death will bring us.
-
- Re-enter GUIDERIUS
-
- GUIDERIUS. Where's my brother?
- I have sent Cloten's clotpoll down the stream,
- In embassy to his mother; his body's hostage
- For his return. [Solemn music]
- BELARIUS. My ingenious instrument!
- Hark, Polydore, it sounds. But what occasion
- Hath Cadwal now to give it motion? Hark!
- GUIDERIUS. Is he at home?
- BELARIUS. He went hence even now.
- GUIDERIUS. What does he mean? Since death of my dear'st mother
- It did not speak before. All solemn things
- Should answer solemn accidents. The matter?
- Triumphs for nothing and lamenting toys
- Is jollity for apes and grief for boys.
- Is Cadwal mad?
-
- Re-enter ARVIRAGUS, with IMOGEN as dead, bearing
- her in his arms
-
- BELARIUS. Look, here he comes,
- And brings the dire occasion in his arms
- Of what we blame him for!
- ARVIRAGUS. The bird is dead
- That we have made so much on. I had rather
- Have skipp'd from sixteen years of age to sixty,
- To have turn'd my leaping time into a crutch,
- Than have seen this.
- GUIDERIUS. O sweetest, fairest lily!
- My brother wears thee not the one half so well
- As when thou grew'st thyself.
- BELARIUS. O melancholy!
- Who ever yet could sound thy bottom? find
- The ooze to show what coast thy sluggish crare
- Might'st easiliest harbour in? Thou blessed thing!
- Jove knows what man thou mightst have made; but I,
- Thou diedst, a most rare boy, of melancholy.
- How found you him?
- ARVIRAGUS. Stark, as you see;
- Thus smiling, as some fly had tickled slumber,
- Not as death's dart, being laugh'd at; his right cheek
- Reposing on a cushion.
- GUIDERIUS. Where?
- ARVIRAGUS. O' th' floor;
- His arms thus leagu'd. I thought he slept, and put
- My clouted brogues from off my feet, whose rudeness
- Answer'd my steps too loud.
- GUIDERIUS. Why, he but sleeps.
- If he be gone he'll make his grave a bed;
- With female fairies will his tomb be haunted,
- And worms will not come to thee.
- ARVIRAGUS. With fairest flowers,
- Whilst summer lasts and I live here, Fidele,
- I'll sweeten thy sad grave. Thou shalt not lack
- The flower that's like thy face, pale primrose; nor
- The azur'd hare-bell, like thy veins; no, nor
- The leaf of eglantine, whom not to slander,
- Out-sweet'ned not thy breath. The ruddock would,
- With charitable bill- O bill, sore shaming
- Those rich-left heirs that let their fathers lie
- Without a monument!- bring thee all this;
- Yea, and furr'd moss besides, when flow'rs are none,
- To winter-ground thy corse-
- GUIDERIUS. Prithee have done,
- And do not play in wench-like words with that
- Which is so serious. Let us bury him,
- And not protract with admiration what
- Is now due debt. To th' grave.
- ARVIRAGUS. Say, where shall's lay him?
- GUIDERIUS. By good Euriphile, our mother.
- ARVIRAGUS. Be't so;
- And let us, Polydore, though now our voices
- Have got the mannish crack, sing him to th' ground,
- As once to our mother; use like note and words,
- Save that Euriphile must be Fidele.
- GUIDERIUS. Cadwal,
- I cannot sing. I'll weep, and word it with thee;
- For notes of sorrow out of tune are worse
- Than priests and fanes that lie.
- ARVIRAGUS. We'll speak it, then.
- BELARIUS. Great griefs, I see, med'cine the less, for Cloten
- Is quite forgot. He was a queen's son, boys;
- And though he came our enemy, remember
- He was paid for that. Though mean and mighty rotting
- Together have one dust, yet reverence-
- That angel of the world- doth make distinction
- Of place 'tween high and low. Our foe was princely;
- And though you took his life, as being our foe,
- Yet bury him as a prince.
- GUIDERIUS. Pray you fetch him hither.
- Thersites' body is as good as Ajax',
- When neither are alive.
- ARVIRAGUS. If you'll go fetch him,
- We'll say our song the whilst. Brother, begin.
- Exit BELARIUS
- GUIDERIUS. Nay, Cadwal, we must lay his head to th' East;
- My father hath a reason for't.
- ARVIRAGUS. 'Tis true.
- GUIDERIUS. Come on, then, and remove him.
- ARVIRAGUS. So. Begin.
-
- SONG
-
- GUIDERIUS. Fear no more the heat o' th' sun
- Nor the furious winter's rages;
- Thou thy worldly task hast done,
- Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages.
- Golden lads and girls all must,
- As chimney-sweepers, come to dust.
-
- ARVIRAGUS. Fear no more the frown o' th' great;
- Thou art past the tyrant's stroke.
- Care no more to clothe and eat;
- To thee the reed is as the oak.
- The sceptre, learning, physic, must
- All follow this and come to dust.
-
- GUIDERIUS. Fear no more the lightning flash,
- ARVIRAGUS. Nor th' all-dreaded thunder-stone;
- GUIDERIUS. Fear not slander, censure rash;
- ARVIRAGUS. Thou hast finish'd joy and moan.
- BOTH. All lovers young, all lovers must
- Consign to thee and come to dust.
-
- GUIDERIUS. No exorciser harm thee!
- ARVIRAGUS. Nor no witchcraft charm thee!
- GUIDERIUS. Ghost unlaid forbear thee!
- ARVIRAGUS. Nothing ill come near thee!
- BOTH. Quiet consummation have,
- And renowned be thy grave!
-
- Re-enter BELARIUS with the body of CLOTEN
-
- GUIDERIUS. We have done our obsequies. Come, lay him down.
- BELARIUS. Here's a few flowers; but 'bout midnight, more.
- The herbs that have on them cold dew o' th' night
- Are strewings fit'st for graves. Upon their faces.
- You were as flow'rs, now wither'd. Even so
- These herblets shall which we upon you strew.
- Come on, away. Apart upon our knees.
- The ground that gave them first has them again.
- Their pleasures here are past, so is their pain.
- Exeunt all but IMOGEN
- IMOGEN. [Awaking] Yes, sir, to Milford Haven. Which is the way?
- I thank you. By yond bush? Pray, how far thither?
- 'Ods pittikins! can it be six mile yet?
- I have gone all night. Faith, I'll lie down and sleep.
- But, soft! no bedfellow. O gods and goddesses!
- [Seeing the body]
- These flow'rs are like the pleasures of the world;
- This bloody man, the care on't. I hope I dream;
- For so I thought I was a cave-keeper,
- And cook to honest creatures. But 'tis not so;
- 'Twas but a bolt of nothing, shot at nothing,
- Which the brain makes of fumes. Our very eyes
- Are sometimes, like our judgments, blind. Good faith,
- I tremble still with fear; but if there be
- Yet left in heaven as small a drop of pity
- As a wren's eye, fear'd gods, a part of it!
- The dream's here still. Even when I wake it is
- Without me, as within me; not imagin'd, felt.
- A headless man? The garments of Posthumus?
- I know the shape of's leg; this is his hand,
- His foot Mercurial, his Martial thigh,
- The brawns of Hercules; but his Jovial face-
- Murder in heaven! How! 'Tis gone. Pisanio,
- All curses madded Hecuba gave the Greeks,
- And mine to boot, be darted on thee! Thou,
- Conspir'd with that irregulous devil, Cloten,
- Hath here cut off my lord. To write and read
- Be henceforth treacherous! Damn'd Pisanio
- Hath with his forged letters- damn'd Pisanio-
- From this most bravest vessel of the world
- Struck the main-top. O Posthumus! alas,
- Where is thy head? Where's that? Ay me! where's that?
- Pisanio might have kill'd thee at the heart,
- And left this head on. How should this be? Pisanio?
- 'Tis he and Cloten; malice and lucre in them
- Have laid this woe here. O, 'tis pregnant, pregnant!
- The drug he gave me, which he said was precious
- And cordial to me, have I not found it
- Murd'rous to th' senses? That confirms it home.
- This is Pisanio's deed, and Cloten. O!
- Give colour to my pale cheek with thy blood,
- That we the horrider may seem to those
- Which chance to find us. O, my lord, my lord!
- [Falls fainting on the body]
-
- Enter LUCIUS, CAPTAINS, and a SOOTHSAYER
-
- CAPTAIN. To them the legions garrison'd in Gallia,
- After your will, have cross'd the sea, attending
- You here at Milford Haven; with your ships,
- They are in readiness.
- LUCIUS. But what from Rome?
- CAPTAIN. The Senate hath stirr'd up the confiners
- And gentlemen of Italy, most willing spirits,
- That promise noble service; and they come
- Under the conduct of bold Iachimo,
- Sienna's brother.
- LUCIUS. When expect you them?
- CAPTAIN. With the next benefit o' th' wind.
- LUCIUS. This forwardness
- Makes our hopes fair. Command our present numbers
- Be muster'd; bid the captains look to't. Now, sir,
- What have you dream'd of late of this war's purpose?
- SOOTHSAYER. Last night the very gods show'd me a vision-
- I fast and pray'd for their intelligence- thus:
- I saw Jove's bird, the Roman eagle, wing'd
- From the spongy south to this part of the west,
- There vanish'd in the sunbeams; which portends,
- Unless my sins abuse my divination,
- Success to th' Roman host.
- LUCIUS. Dream often so,
- And never false. Soft, ho! what trunk is here
- Without his top? The ruin speaks that sometime
- It was a worthy building. How? a page?
- Or dead or sleeping on him? But dead, rather;
- For nature doth abhor to make his bed
- With the defunct, or sleep upon the dead.
- Let's see the boy's face.
- CAPTAIN. He's alive, my lord.
- LUCIUS. He'll then instruct us of this body. Young one,
- Inform us of thy fortunes; for it seems
- They crave to be demanded. Who is this
- Thou mak'st thy bloody pillow? Or who was he
- That, otherwise than noble nature did,
- Hath alter'd that good picture? What's thy interest
- In this sad wreck? How came't? Who is't? What art thou?
- IMOGEN. I am nothing; or if not,
- Nothing to be were better. This was my master,
- A very valiant Briton and a good,
- That here by mountaineers lies slain. Alas!
- There is no more such masters. I may wander
- From east to occident; cry out for service;
- Try many, all good; serve truly; never
- Find such another master.
- LUCIUS. 'Lack, good youth!
- Thou mov'st no less with thy complaining than
- Thy master in bleeding. Say his name, good friend.
- IMOGEN. Richard du Champ. [Aside] If I do lie, and do
- No harm by it, though the gods hear, I hope
- They'll pardon it.- Say you, sir?
- LUCIUS. Thy name?
- IMOGEN. Fidele, sir.
- LUCIUS. Thou dost approve thyself the very same;
- Thy name well fits thy faith, thy faith thy name.
- Wilt take thy chance with me? I will not say
- Thou shalt be so well master'd; but, be sure,
- No less belov'd. The Roman Emperor's letters,
- Sent by a consul to me, should not sooner
- Than thine own worth prefer thee. Go with me.
- IMOGEN. I'll follow, sir. But first, an't please the gods,
- I'll hide my master from the flies, as deep
- As these poor pickaxes can dig; and when
- With wild wood-leaves and weeds I ha' strew'd his grave,
- And on it said a century of prayers,
- Such as I can, twice o'er, I'll weep and sigh;
- And leaving so his service, follow you,
- So please you entertain me.
- LUCIUS. Ay, good youth;
- And rather father thee than master thee.
- My friends,
- The boy hath taught us manly duties; let us
- Find out the prettiest daisied plot we can,
- And make him with our pikes and partisans
- A grave. Come, arm him. Boy, he is preferr'd
- By thee to us; and he shall be interr'd
- As soldiers can. Be cheerful; wipe thine eyes.
- Some falls are means the happier to arise. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-Britain. CYMBELINE'S palace
-
-Enter CYMBELINE, LORDS, PISANIO, and attendants
-
- CYMBELINE. Again! and bring me word how 'tis with her.
- Exit an attendant
- A fever with the absence of her son;
- A madness, of which her life's in danger. Heavens,
- How deeply you at once do touch me! Imogen,
- The great part of my comfort, gone; my queen
- Upon a desperate bed, and in a time
- When fearful wars point at me; her son gone,
- So needful for this present. It strikes me past
- The hope of comfort. But for thee, fellow,
- Who needs must know of her departure and
- Dost seem so ignorant, we'll enforce it from thee
- By a sharp torture.
- PISANIO. Sir, my life is yours;
- I humbly set it at your will; but for my mistress,
- I nothing know where she remains, why gone,
- Nor when she purposes return. Beseech your Highness,
- Hold me your loyal servant.
- LORD. Good my liege,
- The day that she was missing he was here.
- I dare be bound he's true and shall perform
- All parts of his subjection loyally. For Cloten,
- There wants no diligence in seeking him,
- And will no doubt be found.
- CYMBELINE. The time is troublesome.
- [To PISANIO] We'll slip you for a season; but our jealousy
- Does yet depend.
- LORD. So please your Majesty,
- The Roman legions, all from Gallia drawn,
- Are landed on your coast, with a supply
- Of Roman gentlemen by the Senate sent.
- CYMBELINE. Now for the counsel of my son and queen!
- I am amaz'd with matter.
- LORD. Good my liege,
- Your preparation can affront no less
- Than what you hear of. Come more, for more you're ready.
- The want is but to put those pow'rs in motion
- That long to move.
- CYMBELINE. I thank you. Let's withdraw,
- And meet the time as it seeks us. We fear not
- What can from Italy annoy us; but
- We grieve at chances here. Away! Exeunt all but PISANIO
- PISANIO. I heard no letter from my master since
- I wrote him Imogen was slain. 'Tis strange.
- Nor hear I from my mistress, who did promise
- To yield me often tidings. Neither know
- What is betid to Cloten, but remain
- Perplex'd in all. The heavens still must work.
- Wherein I am false I am honest; not true, to be true.
- These present wars shall find I love my country,
- Even to the note o' th' King, or I'll fall in them.
- All other doubts, by time let them be clear'd:
- Fortune brings in some boats that are not steer'd. Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE IV.
-Wales. Before the cave of BELARIUS
-
-Enter BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, and ARVIRAGUS
-
- GUIDERIUS. The noise is round about us.
- BELARIUS. Let us from it.
- ARVIRAGUS. What pleasure, sir, find we in life, to lock it
- From action and adventure?
- GUIDERIUS. Nay, what hope
- Have we in hiding us? This way the Romans
- Must or for Britons slay us, or receive us
- For barbarous and unnatural revolts
- During their use, and slay us after.
- BELARIUS. Sons,
- We'll higher to the mountains; there secure us.
- To the King's party there's no going. Newness
- Of Cloten's death- we being not known, not muster'd
- Among the bands-may drive us to a render
- Where we have liv'd, and so extort from's that
- Which we have done, whose answer would be death,
- Drawn on with torture.
- GUIDERIUS. This is, sir, a doubt
- In such a time nothing becoming you
- Nor satisfying us.
- ARVIRAGUS. It is not likely
- That when they hear the Roman horses neigh,
- Behold their quarter'd fires, have both their eyes
- And ears so cloy'd importantly as now,
- That they will waste their time upon our note,
- To know from whence we are.
- BELARIUS. O, I am known
- Of many in the army. Many years,
- Though Cloten then but young, you see, not wore him
- From my remembrance. And, besides, the King
- Hath not deserv'd my service nor your loves,
- Who find in my exile the want of breeding,
- The certainty of this hard life; aye hopeless
- To have the courtesy your cradle promis'd,
- But to be still hot summer's tanlings and
- The shrinking slaves of winter.
- GUIDERIUS. Than be so,
- Better to cease to be. Pray, sir, to th' army.
- I and my brother are not known; yourself
- So out of thought, and thereto so o'ergrown,
- Cannot be questioned.
- ARVIRAGUS. By this sun that shines,
- I'll thither. What thing is't that I never
- Did see man die! scarce ever look'd on blood
- But that of coward hares, hot goats, and venison!
- Never bestrid a horse, save one that had
- A rider like myself, who ne'er wore rowel
- Nor iron on his heel! I am asham'd
- To look upon the holy sun, to have
- The benefit of his blest beams, remaining
- So long a poor unknown.
- GUIDERIUS. By heavens, I'll go!
- If you will bless me, sir, and give me leave,
- I'll take the better care; but if you will not,
- The hazard therefore due fall on me by
- The hands of Romans!
- ARVIRAGUS. So say I. Amen.
- BELARIUS. No reason I, since of your lives you set
- So slight a valuation, should reserve
- My crack'd one to more care. Have with you, boys!
- If in your country wars you chance to die,
- That is my bed too, lads, and there I'll lie.
- Lead, lead. [Aside] The time seems long; their blood thinks scorn
- Till it fly out and show them princes born. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT V. SCENE I.
-Britain. The Roman camp
-
-Enter POSTHUMUS alone, with a bloody handkerchief
-
- POSTHUMUS. Yea, bloody cloth, I'll keep thee; for I wish'd
- Thou shouldst be colour'd thus. You married ones,
- If each of you should take this course, how many
- Must murder wives much better than themselves
- For wrying but a little! O Pisanio!
- Every good servant does not all commands;
- No bond but to do just ones. Gods! if you
- Should have ta'en vengeance on my faults, I never
- Had liv'd to put on this; so had you saved
- The noble Imogen to repent, and struck
- Me, wretch more worth your vengeance. But alack,
- You snatch some hence for little faults; that's love,
- To have them fall no more. You some permit
- To second ills with ills, each elder worse,
- And make them dread it, to the doer's thrift.
- But Imogen is your own. Do your best wills,
- And make me blest to obey. I am brought hither
- Among th' Italian gentry, and to fight
- Against my lady's kingdom. 'Tis enough
- That, Britain, I have kill'd thy mistress; peace!
- I'll give no wound to thee. Therefore, good heavens,
- Hear patiently my purpose. I'll disrobe me
- Of these Italian weeds, and suit myself
- As does a Britain peasant. So I'll fight
- Against the part I come with; so I'll die
- For thee, O Imogen, even for whom my life
- Is every breath a death. And thus unknown,
- Pitied nor hated, to the face of peril
- Myself I'll dedicate. Let me make men know
- More valour in me than my habits show.
- Gods, put the strength o' th' Leonati in me!
- To shame the guise o' th' world, I will begin
- The fashion- less without and more within. Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-Britain. A field of battle between the British and Roman camps
-
-Enter LUCIUS, IACHIMO, and the Roman army at one door, and the British army
-at another, LEONATUS POSTHUMUS following like a poor soldier.
-They march over and go out. Alarums. Then enter again, in skirmish,
-IACHIMO and POSTHUMUS. He vanquisheth and disarmeth IACHIMO,
-and then leaves him
-
- IACHIMO. The heaviness and guilt within my bosom
- Takes off my manhood. I have belied a lady,
- The Princess of this country, and the air on't
- Revengingly enfeebles me; or could this carl,
- A very drudge of nature's, have subdu'd me
- In my profession? Knighthoods and honours borne
- As I wear mine are titles but of scorn.
- If that thy gentry, Britain, go before
- This lout as he exceeds our lords, the odds
- Is that we scarce are men, and you are gods. Exit
-
- The battle continues; the BRITONS fly; CYMBELINE is taken.
- Then enter to his rescue BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, and ARVIRAGUS
-
- BELARIUS. Stand, stand! We have th' advantage of the ground;
- The lane is guarded; nothing routs us but
- The villainy of our fears.
- GUIDERIUS and ARVIRAGUS. Stand, stand, and fight!
-
- Re-enter POSTHUMUS, and seconds the Britons; they rescue
- CYMBELINE, and exeunt. Then re-enter LUCIUS and IACHIMO,
- with IMOGEN
-
- LUCIUS. Away, boy, from the troops, and save thyself;
- For friends kill friends, and the disorder's such
- As war were hoodwink'd.
- IACHIMO. 'Tis their fresh supplies.
- LUCIUS. It is a day turn'd strangely. Or betimes
- Let's reinforce or fly. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-Another part of the field
-
-Enter POSTHUMUS and a Britain LORD
-
- LORD. Cam'st thou from where they made the stand?
- POSTHUMUS. I did:
- Though you, it seems, come from the fliers.
- LORD. I did.
- POSTHUMUS. No blame be to you, sir, for all was lost,
- But that the heavens fought. The King himself
- Of his wings destitute, the army broken,
- And but the backs of Britons seen, an flying,
- Through a strait lane- the enemy, full-hearted,
- Lolling the tongue with slaught'ring, having work
- More plentiful than tools to do't, struck down
- Some mortally, some slightly touch'd, some falling
- Merely through fear, that the strait pass was damm'd
- With dead men hurt behind, and cowards living
- To die with length'ned shame.
- LORD. Where was this lane?
- POSTHUMUS. Close by the battle, ditch'd, and wall'd with turf,
- Which gave advantage to an ancient soldier-
- An honest one, I warrant, who deserv'd
- So long a breeding as his white beard came to,
- In doing this for's country. Athwart the lane
- He, with two striplings- lads more like to run
- The country base than to commit such slaughter;
- With faces fit for masks, or rather fairer
- Than those for preservation cas'd or shame-
- Made good the passage, cried to those that fled
- 'Our Britain's harts die flying, not our men.
- To darkness fleet souls that fly backwards! Stand;
- Or we are Romans and will give you that,
- Like beasts, which you shun beastly, and may save
- But to look back in frown. Stand, stand!' These three,
- Three thousand confident, in act as many-
- For three performers are the file when all
- The rest do nothing- with this word 'Stand, stand!'
- Accommodated by the place, more charming
- With their own nobleness, which could have turn'd
- A distaff to a lance, gilded pale looks,
- Part shame, part spirit renew'd; that some turn'd coward
- But by example- O, a sin in war
- Damn'd in the first beginners!- gan to look
- The way that they did and to grin like lions
- Upon the pikes o' th' hunters. Then began
- A stop i' th' chaser, a retire; anon
- A rout, confusion thick. Forthwith they fly,
- Chickens, the way which they stoop'd eagles; slaves,
- The strides they victors made; and now our cowards,
- Like fragments in hard voyages, became
- The life o' th' need. Having found the back-door open
- Of the unguarded hearts, heavens, how they wound!
- Some slain before, some dying, some their friends
- O'erborne i' th' former wave. Ten chas'd by one
- Are now each one the slaughterman of twenty.
- Those that would die or ere resist are grown
- The mortal bugs o' th' field.
- LORD. This was strange chance:
- A narrow lane, an old man, and two boys.
- POSTHUMUS. Nay, do not wonder at it; you are made
- Rather to wonder at the things you hear
- Than to work any. Will you rhyme upon't,
- And vent it for a mock'ry? Here is one:
- 'Two boys, an old man (twice a boy), a lane,
- Preserv'd the Britons, was the Romans' bane.'
- LORD. Nay, be not angry, sir.
- POSTHUMUS. 'Lack, to what end?
- Who dares not stand his foe I'll be his friend;
- For if he'll do as he is made to do,
- I know he'll quickly fly my friendship too.
- You have put me into rhyme.
- LORD. Farewell; you're angry. Exit
- POSTHUMUS. Still going? This is a lord! O noble misery,
- To be i' th' field and ask 'What news?' of me!
- To-day how many would have given their honours
- To have sav'd their carcasses! took heel to do't,
- And yet died too! I, in mine own woe charm'd,
- Could not find death where I did hear him groan,
- Nor feel him where he struck. Being an ugly monster,
- 'Tis strange he hides him in fresh cups, soft beds,
- Sweet words; or hath moe ministers than we
- That draw his knives i' th' war. Well, I will find him;
- For being now a favourer to the Briton,
- No more a Briton, I have resum'd again
- The part I came in. Fight I will no more,
- But yield me to the veriest hind that shall
- Once touch my shoulder. Great the slaughter is
- Here made by th' Roman; great the answer be
- Britons must take. For me, my ransom's death;
- On either side I come to spend my breath,
- Which neither here I'll keep nor bear again,
- But end it by some means for Imogen.
-
- Enter two BRITISH CAPTAINS and soldiers
-
- FIRST CAPTAIN. Great Jupiter be prais'd! Lucius is taken.
- 'Tis thought the old man and his sons were angels.
- SECOND CAPTAIN. There was a fourth man, in a silly habit,
- That gave th' affront with them.
- FIRST CAPTAIN. So 'tis reported;
- But none of 'em can be found. Stand! who's there?
- POSTHUMUS. A Roman,
- Who had not now been drooping here if seconds
- Had answer'd him.
- SECOND CAPTAIN. Lay hands on him; a dog!
- A leg of Rome shall not return to tell
- What crows have peck'd them here. He brags his service,
- As if he were of note. Bring him to th' King.
-
- Enter CYMBELINE, BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, ARVIRAGUS, PISANIO, and Roman
- captives. The CAPTAINS present POSTHUMUS to CYMBELINE, who delivers
- him over to a gaoler. Exeunt omnes
-
-
-
-
-SCENE IV.
-Britain. A prison
-
-Enter POSTHUMUS and two GAOLERS
-
- FIRST GAOLER. You shall not now be stol'n, you have locks upon you;
- So graze as you find pasture.
- SECOND GAOLER. Ay, or a stomach. Exeunt GAOLERS
- POSTHUMUS. Most welcome, bondage! for thou art a way,
- I think, to liberty. Yet am I better
- Than one that's sick o' th' gout, since he had rather
- Groan so in perpetuity than be cur'd
- By th' sure physician death, who is the key
- T' unbar these locks. My conscience, thou art fetter'd
- More than my shanks and wrists; you good gods, give me
- The penitent instrument to pick that bolt,
- Then, free for ever! Is't enough I am sorry?
- So children temporal fathers do appease;
- Gods are more full of mercy. Must I repent,
- I cannot do it better than in gyves,
- Desir'd more than constrain'd. To satisfy,
- If of my freedom 'tis the main part, take
- No stricter render of me than my all.
- I know you are more clement than vile men,
- Who of their broken debtors take a third,
- A sixth, a tenth, letting them thrive again
- On their abatement; that's not my desire.
- For Imogen's dear life take mine; and though
- 'Tis not so dear, yet 'tis a life; you coin'd it.
- 'Tween man and man they weigh not every stamp;
- Though light, take pieces for the figure's sake;
- You rather mine, being yours. And so, great pow'rs,
- If you will take this audit, take this life,
- And cancel these cold bonds. O Imogen!
- I'll speak to thee in silence. [Sleeps]
-
- Solemn music. Enter, as in an apparition, SICILIUS
- LEONATUS, father to POSTHUMUS, an old man attired
- like a warrior; leading in his hand an ancient
- matron, his WIFE, and mother to POSTHUMUS, with
- music before them. Then, after other music, follows
- the two young LEONATI, brothers to POSTHUMUS,
- with wounds, as they died in the wars.
- They circle POSTHUMUS round as he lies sleeping
-
- SICILIUS. No more, thou thunder-master, show
- Thy spite on mortal flies.
- With Mars fall out, with Juno chide,
- That thy adulteries
- Rates and revenges.
- Hath my poor boy done aught but well,
- Whose face I never saw?
- I died whilst in the womb he stay'd
- Attending nature's law;
- Whose father then, as men report
- Thou orphans' father art,
- Thou shouldst have been, and shielded him
- From this earth-vexing smart.
-
- MOTHER. Lucina lent not me her aid,
- But took me in my throes,
- That from me was Posthumus ripp'd,
- Came crying 'mongst his foes,
- A thing of pity.
-
- SICILIUS. Great Nature like his ancestry
- Moulded the stuff so fair
- That he deserv'd the praise o' th' world
- As great Sicilius' heir.
-
- FIRST BROTHER. When once he was mature for man,
- In Britain where was he
- That could stand up his parallel,
- Or fruitful object be
- In eye of Imogen, that best
- Could deem his dignity?
-
- MOTHER. With marriage wherefore was he mock'd,
- To be exil'd and thrown
- From Leonati seat and cast
- From her his dearest one,
- Sweet Imogen?
-
- SICILIUS. Why did you suffer Iachimo,
- Slight thing of Italy,
- To taint his nobler heart and brain
- With needless jealousy,
- And to become the geck and scorn
- O' th' other's villainy?
-
- SECOND BROTHER. For this from stiller seats we came,
- Our parents and us twain,
- That, striking in our country's cause,
- Fell bravely and were slain,
- Our fealty and Tenantius' right
- With honour to maintain.
-
- FIRST BROTHER. Like hardiment Posthumus hath
- To Cymbeline perform'd.
- Then, Jupiter, thou king of gods,
- Why hast thou thus adjourn'd
- The graces for his merits due,
- Being all to dolours turn'd?
-
- SICILIUS. Thy crystal window ope; look out;
- No longer exercise
- Upon a valiant race thy harsh
- And potent injuries.
-
- MOTHER. Since, Jupiter, our son is good,
- Take off his miseries.
-
- SICILIUS. Peep through thy marble mansion. Help!
- Or we poor ghosts will cry
- To th' shining synod of the rest
- Against thy deity.
-
- BROTHERS. Help, Jupiter! or we appeal,
- And from thy justice fly.
-
- JUPITER descends-in thunder and lightning, sitting
- upon an eagle. He throws a thunderbolt. The GHOSTS
- fall on their knees
-
- JUPITER. No more, you petty spirits of region low,
- Offend our hearing; hush! How dare you ghosts
- Accuse the Thunderer whose bolt, you know,
- Sky-planted, batters all rebelling coasts?
- Poor shadows of Elysium, hence and rest
- Upon your never-withering banks of flow'rs.
- Be not with mortal accidents opprest:
- No care of yours it is; you know 'tis ours.
- Whom best I love I cross; to make my gift,
- The more delay'd, delighted. Be content;
- Your low-laid son our godhead will uplift;
- His comforts thrive, his trials well are spent.
- Our Jovial star reign'd at his birth, and in
- Our temple was he married. Rise and fade!
- He shall be lord of Lady Imogen,
- And happier much by his affliction made.
- This tablet lay upon his breast, wherein
- Our pleasure his full fortune doth confine;
- And so, away; no farther with your din
- Express impatience, lest you stir up mine.
- Mount, eagle, to my palace crystalline. [Ascends]
- SICILIUS. He came in thunder; his celestial breath
- Was sulpherous to smell; the holy eagle
- Stoop'd as to foot us. His ascension is
- More sweet than our blest fields. His royal bird
- Prunes the immortal wing, and cloys his beak,
- As when his god is pleas'd.
- ALL. Thanks, Jupiter!
- SICILIUS. The marble pavement closes, he is enter'd
- His radiant roof. Away! and, to be blest,
- Let us with care perform his great behest. [GHOSTS vanish]
-
- POSTHUMUS. [Waking] Sleep, thou has been a grandsire and begot
- A father to me; and thou hast created
- A mother and two brothers. But, O scorn,
- Gone! They went hence so soon as they were born.
- And so I am awake. Poor wretches, that depend
- On greatness' favour, dream as I have done;
- Wake and find nothing. But, alas, I swerve;
- Many dream not to find, neither deserve,
- And yet are steep'd in favours; so am I,
- That have this golden chance, and know not why.
- What fairies haunt this ground? A book? O rare one!
- Be not, as is our fangled world, a garment
- Nobler than that it covers. Let thy effects
- So follow to be most unlike our courtiers,
- As good as promise.
-
- [Reads] 'When as a lion's whelp shall, to himself unknown,
- without seeking find, and be embrac'd by a piece of tender air;
- and when from a stately cedar shall be lopp'd branches which,
- being dead many years, shall after revive, be jointed to the old
- stock, and freshly grow; then shall Posthumus end his miseries,
- Britain be fortunate and flourish in peace and plenty.'
-
- 'Tis still a dream, or else such stuff as madmen
- Tongue, and brain not; either both or nothing,
- Or senseless speaking, or a speaking such
- As sense cannot untie. Be what it is,
- The action of my life is like it, which
- I'll keep, if but for sympathy.
-
- Re-enter GAOLER
-
- GAOLER. Come, sir, are you ready for death?
- POSTHUMUS. Over-roasted rather; ready long ago.
- GAOLER. Hanging is the word, sir; if you be ready for that, you are
- well cook'd.
- POSTHUMUS. So, if I prove a good repast to the spectators, the dish
- pays the shot.
- GAOLER. A heavy reckoning for you, sir. But the comfort is, you
- shall be called to no more payments, fear no more tavern bills,
- which are often the sadness of parting, as the procuring of mirth.
- You come in faint for want of meat, depart reeling with too much
- drink; sorry that you have paid too much, and sorry that you are
- paid too much; purse and brain both empty; the brain the heavier
- for being too light, the purse too light, being drawn of
- heaviness. O, of this contradiction you shall now be quit. O, the
- charity of a penny cord! It sums up thousands in a trice. You
- have no true debitor and creditor but it; of what's past, is, and
- to come, the discharge. Your neck, sir, is pen, book, and
- counters; so the acquittance follows.
- POSTHUMUS. I am merrier to die than thou art to live.
- GAOLER. Indeed, sir, he that sleeps feels not the toothache. But a
- man that were to sleep your sleep, and a hangman to help him to
- bed, I think he would change places with his officer; for look
- you, sir, you know not which way you shall go.
- POSTHUMUS. Yes indeed do I, fellow.
- GAOLER. Your death has eyes in's head, then; I have not seen him so
- pictur'd. You must either be directed by some that take upon them
- to know, or to take upon yourself that which I am sure you do not
- know, or jump the after-inquiry on your own peril. And how you
- shall speed in your journey's end, I think you'll never return to
- tell one.
- POSTHUMUS. I tell thee, fellow, there are none want eyes to direct
- them the way I am going, but such as wink and will not use them.
- GAOLER. What an infinite mock is this, that a man should have the
- best use of eyes to see the way of blindness! I am sure hanging's
- the way of winking.
-
- Enter a MESSENGER
-
- MESSENGER. Knock off his manacles; bring your prisoner to the King.
- POSTHUMUS. Thou bring'st good news: I am call'd to be made free.
- GAOLER. I'll be hang'd then.
- POSTHUMUS. Thou shalt be then freer than a gaoler; no bolts for the
- dead. Exeunt POSTHUMUS and MESSENGER
- GAOLER. Unless a man would marry a gallows and beget young gibbets,
- I never saw one so prone. Yet, on my conscience, there are verier
- knaves desire to live, for all he be a Roman; and there be some
- of them too that die against their wills; so should I, if I were
- one. I would we were all of one mind, and one mind good. O, there
- were desolation of gaolers and gallowses! I speak against my
- present profit, but my wish hath a preferment in't. Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE V.
-Britain. CYMBELINE'S tent
-
-Enter CYMBELINE, BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, ARVIRAGUS, PISANIO, LORDS,
-OFFICERS, and attendants
-
- CYMBELINE. Stand by my side, you whom the gods have made
- Preservers of my throne. Woe is my heart
- That the poor soldier that so richly fought,
- Whose rags sham'd gilded arms, whose naked breast
- Stepp'd before targes of proof, cannot be found.
- He shall be happy that can find him, if
- Our grace can make him so.
- BELARIUS. I never saw
- Such noble fury in so poor a thing;
- Such precious deeds in one that promis'd nought
- But beggary and poor looks.
- CYMBELINE. No tidings of him?
- PISANIO. He hath been search'd among the dead and living,
- But no trace of him.
- CYMBELINE. To my grief, I am
- The heir of his reward; [To BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, and ARVIRAGUS]
- which I will add
- To you, the liver, heart, and brain, of Britain,
- By whom I grant she lives. 'Tis now the time
- To ask of whence you are. Report it.
- BELARIUS. Sir,
- In Cambria are we born, and gentlemen;
- Further to boast were neither true nor modest,
- Unless I add we are honest.
- CYMBELINE. Bow your knees.
- Arise my knights o' th' battle; I create you
- Companions to our person, and will fit you
- With dignities becoming your estates.
-
- Enter CORNELIUS and LADIES
-
- There's business in these faces. Why so sadly
- Greet you our victory? You look like Romans,
- And not o' th' court of Britain.
- CORNELIUS. Hail, great King!
- To sour your happiness I must report
- The Queen is dead.
- CYMBELINE. Who worse than a physician
- Would this report become? But I consider
- By med'cine'life may be prolong'd, yet death
- Will seize the doctor too. How ended she?
- CORNELIUS. With horror, madly dying, like her life;
- Which, being cruel to the world, concluded
- Most cruel to herself. What she confess'd
- I will report, so please you; these her women
- Can trip me if I err, who with wet cheeks
- Were present when she finish'd.
- CYMBELINE. Prithee say.
- CORNELIUS. First, she confess'd she never lov'd you; only
- Affected greatness got by you, not you;
- Married your royalty, was wife to your place;
- Abhorr'd your person.
- CYMBELINE. She alone knew this;
- And but she spoke it dying, I would not
- Believe her lips in opening it. Proceed.
- CORNELIUS. Your daughter, whom she bore in hand to love
- With such integrity, she did confess
- Was as a scorpion to her sight; whose life,
- But that her flight prevented it, she had
- Ta'en off by poison.
- CYMBELINE. O most delicate fiend!
- Who is't can read a woman? Is there more?
- CORNELIUS. More, sir, and worse. She did confess she had
- For you a mortal mineral, which, being took,
- Should by the minute feed on life, and ling'ring,
- By inches waste you. In which time she purpos'd,
- By watching, weeping, tendance, kissing, to
- O'ercome you with her show; and in time,
- When she had fitted you with her craft, to work
- Her son into th' adoption of the crown;
- But failing of her end by his strange absence,
- Grew shameless-desperate, open'd, in despite
- Of heaven and men, her purposes, repented
- The evils she hatch'd were not effected; so,
- Despairing, died.
- CYMBELINE. Heard you all this, her women?
- LADY. We did, so please your Highness.
- CYMBELINE. Mine eyes
- Were not in fault, for she was beautiful;
- Mine ears, that heard her flattery; nor my heart
- That thought her like her seeming. It had been vicious
- To have mistrusted her; yet, O my daughter!
- That it was folly in me thou mayst say,
- And prove it in thy feeling. Heaven mend all!
-
- Enter LUCIUS, IACHIMO, the SOOTHSAYER, and other
- Roman prisoners, guarded; POSTHUMUS behind, and IMOGEN
-
- Thou com'st not, Caius, now for tribute; that
- The Britons have raz'd out, though with the loss
- Of many a bold one, whose kinsmen have made suit
- That their good souls may be appeas'd with slaughter
- Of you their captives, which ourself have granted;
- So think of your estate.
- LUCIUS. Consider, sir, the chance of war. The day
- Was yours by accident; had it gone with us,
- We should not, when the blood was cool, have threaten'd
- Our prisoners with the sword. But since the gods
- Will have it thus, that nothing but our lives
- May be call'd ransom, let it come. Sufficeth
- A Roman with a Roman's heart can suffer.
- Augustus lives to think on't; and so much
- For my peculiar care. This one thing only
- I will entreat: my boy, a Briton born,
- Let him be ransom'd. Never master had
- A page so kind, so duteous, diligent,
- So tender over his occasions, true,
- So feat, so nurse-like; let his virtue join
- With my request, which I'll make bold your Highness
- Cannot deny; he hath done no Briton harm
- Though he have serv'd a Roman. Save him, sir,
- And spare no blood beside.
- CYMBELINE. I have surely seen him;
- His favour is familiar to me. Boy,
- Thou hast look'd thyself into my grace,
- And art mine own. I know not why, wherefore
- To say 'Live, boy.' Ne'er thank thy master. Live;
- And ask of Cymbeline what boon thou wilt,
- Fitting my bounty and thy state, I'll give it;
- Yea, though thou do demand a prisoner,
- The noblest ta'en.
- IMOGEN. I humbly thank your Highness.
- LUCIUS. I do not bid thee beg my life, good lad,
- And yet I know thou wilt.
- IMOGEN. No, no! Alack,
- There's other work in hand. I see a thing
- Bitter to me as death; your life, good master,
- Must shuffle for itself.
- LUCIUS. The boy disdains me,
- He leaves me, scorns me. Briefly die their joys
- That place them on the truth of girls and boys.
- Why stands he so perplex'd?
- CYMBELINE. What wouldst thou, boy?
- I love thee more and more; think more and more
- What's best to ask. Know'st him thou look'st on? Speak,
- Wilt have him live? Is he thy kin? thy friend?
- IMOGEN. He is a Roman, no more kin to me
- Than I to your Highness; who, being born your vassal,
- Am something nearer.
- CYMBELINE. Wherefore ey'st him so?
- IMOGEN. I'll tell you, sir, in private, if you please
- To give me hearing.
- CYMBELINE. Ay, with all my heart,
- And lend my best attention. What's thy name?
- IMOGEN. Fidele, sir.
- CYMBELINE. Thou'rt my good youth, my page;
- I'll be thy master. Walk with me; speak freely.
- [CYMBELINE and IMOGEN converse apart]
- BELARIUS. Is not this boy reviv'd from death?
- ARVIRAGUS. One sand another
- Not more resembles- that sweet rosy lad
- Who died and was Fidele. What think you?
- GUIDERIUS. The same dead thing alive.
- BELARIUS. Peace, peace! see further. He eyes us not; forbear.
- Creatures may be alike; were't he, I am sure
- He would have spoke to us.
- GUIDERIUS. But we saw him dead.
- BELARIUS. Be silent; let's see further.
- PISANIO. [Aside] It is my mistress.
- Since she is living, let the time run on
- To good or bad. [CYMBELINE and IMOGEN advance]
- CYMBELINE. Come, stand thou by our side;
- Make thy demand aloud. [To IACHIMO] Sir, step you forth;
- Give answer to this boy, and do it freely,
- Or, by our greatness and the grace of it,
- Which is our honour, bitter torture shall
- Winnow the truth from falsehood. On, speak to him.
- IMOGEN. My boon is that this gentleman may render
- Of whom he had this ring.
- POSTHUMUS. [Aside] What's that to him?
- CYMBELINE. That diamond upon your finger, say
- How came it yours?
- IACHIMO. Thou'lt torture me to leave unspoken that
- Which to be spoke would torture thee.
- CYMBELINE. How? me?
- IACHIMO. I am glad to be constrain'd to utter that
- Which torments me to conceal. By villainy
- I got this ring; 'twas Leonatus' jewel,
- Whom thou didst banish; and- which more may grieve thee,
- As it doth me- a nobler sir ne'er liv'd
- 'Twixt sky and ground. Wilt thou hear more, my lord?
- CYMBELINE. All that belongs to this.
- IACHIMO. That paragon, thy daughter,
- For whom my heart drops blood and my false spirits
- Quail to remember- Give me leave, I faint.
- CYMBELINE. My daughter? What of her? Renew thy strength;
- I had rather thou shouldst live while nature will
- Than die ere I hear more. Strive, man, and speak.
- IACHIMO. Upon a time- unhappy was the clock
- That struck the hour!- was in Rome- accurs'd
- The mansion where!- 'twas at a feast- O, would
- Our viands had been poison'd, or at least
- Those which I heav'd to head!- the good Posthumus-
- What should I say? he was too good to be
- Where ill men were, and was the best of all
- Amongst the rar'st of good ones- sitting sadly
- Hearing us praise our loves of Italy
- For beauty that made barren the swell'd boast
- Of him that best could speak; for feature, laming
- The shrine of Venus or straight-pight Minerva,
- Postures beyond brief nature; for condition,
- A shop of all the qualities that man
- Loves woman for; besides that hook of wiving,
- Fairness which strikes the eye-
- CYMBELINE. I stand on fire.
- Come to the matter.
- IACHIMO. All too soon I shall,
- Unless thou wouldst grieve quickly. This Posthumus,
- Most like a noble lord in love and one
- That had a royal lover, took his hint;
- And not dispraising whom we prais'd- therein
- He was as calm as virtue- he began
- His mistress' picture; which by his tongue being made,
- And then a mind put in't, either our brags
- Were crack'd of kitchen trulls, or his description
- Prov'd us unspeaking sots.
- CYMBELINE. Nay, nay, to th' purpose.
- IACHIMO. Your daughter's chastity- there it begins.
- He spake of her as Dian had hot dreams
- And she alone were cold; whereat I, wretch,
- Made scruple of his praise, and wager'd with him
- Pieces of gold 'gainst this which then he wore
- Upon his honour'd finger, to attain
- In suit the place of's bed, and win this ring
- By hers and mine adultery. He, true knight,
- No lesser of her honour confident
- Than I did truly find her, stakes this ring;
- And would so, had it been a carbuncle
- Of Phoebus' wheel; and might so safely, had it
- Been all the worth of's car. Away to Britain
- Post I in this design. Well may you, sir,
- Remember me at court, where I was taught
- Of your chaste daughter the wide difference
- 'Twixt amorous and villainous. Being thus quench'd
- Of hope, not longing, mine Italian brain
- Gan in your duller Britain operate
- Most vilely; for my vantage, excellent;
- And, to be brief, my practice so prevail'd
- That I return'd with simular proof enough
- To make the noble Leonatus mad,
- By wounding his belief in her renown
- With tokens thus and thus; averring notes
- Of chamber-hanging, pictures, this her bracelet-
- O cunning, how I got it!- nay, some marks
- Of secret on her person, that he could not
- But think her bond of chastity quite crack'd,
- I having ta'en the forfeit. Whereupon-
- Methinks I see him now-
- POSTHUMUS. [Coming forward] Ay, so thou dost,
- Italian fiend! Ay me, most credulous fool,
- Egregious murderer, thief, anything
- That's due to all the villains past, in being,
- To come! O, give me cord, or knife, or poison,
- Some upright justicer! Thou, King, send out
- For torturers ingenious. It is I
- That all th' abhorred things o' th' earth amend
- By being worse than they. I am Posthumus,
- That kill'd thy daughter; villain-like, I lie-
- That caus'd a lesser villain than myself,
- A sacrilegious thief, to do't. The temple
- Of virtue was she; yea, and she herself.
- Spit, and throw stones, cast mire upon me, set
- The dogs o' th' street to bay me. Every villain
- Be call'd Posthumus Leonatus, and
- Be villainy less than 'twas! O Imogen!
- My queen, my life, my wife! O Imogen,
- Imogen, Imogen!
- IMOGEN. Peace, my lord. Hear, hear!
- POSTHUMUS. Shall's have a play of this? Thou scornful page,
- There lies thy part. [Strikes her. She falls]
- PISANIO. O gentlemen, help!
- Mine and your mistress! O, my lord Posthumus!
- You ne'er kill'd Imogen till now. Help, help!
- Mine honour'd lady!
- CYMBELINE. Does the world go round?
- POSTHUMUS. How comes these staggers on me?
- PISANIO. Wake, my mistress!
- CYMBELINE. If this be so, the gods do mean to strike me
- To death with mortal joy.
- PISANIO. How fares my mistress?
- IMOGEN. O, get thee from my sight;
- Thou gav'st me poison. Dangerous fellow, hence!
- Breathe not where princes are.
- CYMBELINE. The tune of Imogen!
- PISANIO. Lady,
- The gods throw stones of sulphur on me, if
- That box I gave you was not thought by me
- A precious thing! I had it from the Queen.
- CYMBELINE. New matter still?
- IMOGEN. It poison'd me.
- CORNELIUS. O gods!
- I left out one thing which the Queen confess'd,
- Which must approve thee honest. 'If Pisanio
- Have' said she 'given his mistress that confection
- Which I gave him for cordial, she is serv'd
- As I would serve a rat.'
- CYMBELINE. What's this, Cornelius?
- CORNELIUS. The Queen, sir, very oft importun'd me
- To temper poisons for her; still pretending
- The satisfaction of her knowledge only
- In killing creatures vile, as cats and dogs,
- Of no esteem. I, dreading that her purpose
- Was of more danger, did compound for her
- A certain stuff, which, being ta'en would cease
- The present pow'r of life, but in short time
- All offices of nature should again
- Do their due functions. Have you ta'en of it?
- IMOGEN. Most like I did, for I was dead.
- BELARIUS. My boys,
- There was our error.
- GUIDERIUS. This is sure Fidele.
- IMOGEN. Why did you throw your wedded lady from you?
- Think that you are upon a rock, and now
- Throw me again. [Embracing him]
- POSTHUMUS. Hang there like fruit, my soul,
- Till the tree die!
- CYMBELINE. How now, my flesh? my child?
- What, mak'st thou me a dullard in this act?
- Wilt thou not speak to me?
- IMOGEN. [Kneeling] Your blessing, sir.
- BELARIUS. [To GUIDERIUS and ARVIRAGUS] Though you did love this
- youth, I blame ye not;
- You had a motive for't.
- CYMBELINE. My tears that fall
- Prove holy water on thee! Imogen,
- Thy mother's dead.
- IMOGEN. I am sorry for't, my lord.
- CYMBELINE. O, she was naught, and long of her it was
- That we meet here so strangely; but her son
- Is gone, we know not how nor where.
- PISANIO. My lord,
- Now fear is from me, I'll speak troth. Lord Cloten,
- Upon my lady's missing, came to me
- With his sword drawn, foam'd at the mouth, and swore,
- If I discover'd not which way she was gone,
- It was my instant death. By accident
- I had a feigned letter of my master's
- Then in my pocket, which directed him
- To seek her on the mountains near to Milford;
- Where, in a frenzy, in my master's garments,
- Which he enforc'd from me, away he posts
- With unchaste purpose, and with oath to violate
- My lady's honour. What became of him
- I further know not.
- GUIDERIUS. Let me end the story:
- I slew him there.
- CYMBELINE. Marry, the gods forfend!
- I would not thy good deeds should from my lips
- Pluck a hard sentence. Prithee, valiant youth,
- Deny't again.
- GUIDERIUS. I have spoke it, and I did it.
- CYMBELINE. He was a prince.
- GUIDERIUS. A most incivil one. The wrongs he did me
- Were nothing prince-like; for he did provoke me
- With language that would make me spurn the sea,
- If it could so roar to me. I cut off's head,
- And am right glad he is not standing here
- To tell this tale of mine.
- CYMBELINE. I am sorry for thee.
- By thine own tongue thou art condemn'd, and must
- Endure our law. Thou'rt dead.
- IMOGEN. That headless man
- I thought had been my lord.
- CYMBELINE. Bind the offender,
- And take him from our presence.
- BELARIUS. Stay, sir King.
- This man is better than the man he slew,
- As well descended as thyself, and hath
- More of thee merited than a band of Clotens
- Had ever scar for. [To the guard] Let his arms alone;
- They were not born for bondage.
- CYMBELINE. Why, old soldier,
- Wilt thou undo the worth thou art unpaid for
- By tasting of our wrath? How of descent
- As good as we?
- ARVIRAGUS. In that he spake too far.
- CYMBELINE. And thou shalt die for't.
- BELARIUS. We will die all three;
- But I will prove that two on's are as good
- As I have given out him. My sons, I must
- For mine own part unfold a dangerous speech,
- Though haply well for you.
- ARVIRAGUS. Your danger's ours.
- GUIDERIUS. And our good his.
- BELARIUS. Have at it then by leave!
- Thou hadst, great King, a subject who
- Was call'd Belarius.
- CYMBELINE. What of him? He is
- A banish'd traitor.
- BELARIUS. He it is that hath
- Assum'd this age; indeed a banish'd man;
- I know not how a traitor.
- CYMBELINE. Take him hence,
- The whole world shall not save him.
- BELARIUS. Not too hot.
- First pay me for the nursing of thy sons,
- And let it be confiscate all, so soon
- As I have receiv'd it.
- CYMBELINE. Nursing of my sons?
- BELARIUS. I am too blunt and saucy: here's my knee.
- Ere I arise I will prefer my sons;
- Then spare not the old father. Mighty sir,
- These two young gentlemen that call me father,
- And think they are my sons, are none of mine;
- They are the issue of your loins, my liege,
- And blood of your begetting.
- CYMBELINE. How? my issue?
- BELARIUS. So sure as you your father's. I, old Morgan,
- Am that Belarius whom you sometime banish'd.
- Your pleasure was my mere offence, my punishment
- Itself, and all my treason; that I suffer'd
- Was all the harm I did. These gentle princes-
- For such and so they are- these twenty years
- Have I train'd up; those arts they have as
- Could put into them. My breeding was, sir, as
- Your Highness knows. Their nurse, Euriphile,
- Whom for the theft I wedded, stole these children
- Upon my banishment; I mov'd her to't,
- Having receiv'd the punishment before
- For that which I did then. Beaten for loyalty
- Excited me to treason. Their dear loss,
- The more of you 'twas felt, the more it shap'd
- Unto my end of stealing them. But, gracious sir,
- Here are your sons again, and I must lose
- Two of the sweet'st companions in the world.
- The benediction of these covering heavens
- Fall on their heads like dew! for they are worthy
- To inlay heaven with stars.
- CYMBELINE. Thou weep'st and speak'st.
- The service that you three have done is more
- Unlike than this thou tell'st. I lost my children.
- If these be they, I know not how to wish
- A pair of worthier sons.
- BELARIUS. Be pleas'd awhile.
- This gentleman, whom I call Polydore,
- Most worthy prince, as yours, is true Guiderius;
- This gentleman, my Cadwal, Arviragus,
- Your younger princely son; he, sir, was lapp'd
- In a most curious mantle, wrought by th' hand
- Of his queen mother, which for more probation
- I can with ease produce.
- CYMBELINE. Guiderius had
- Upon his neck a mole, a sanguine star;
- It was a mark of wonder.
- BELARIUS. This is he,
- Who hath upon him still that natural stamp.
- It was wise nature's end in the donation,
- To be his evidence now.
- CYMBELINE. O, what am I?
- A mother to the birth of three? Ne'er mother
- Rejoic'd deliverance more. Blest pray you be,
- That, after this strange starting from your orbs,
- You may reign in them now! O Imogen,
- Thou hast lost by this a kingdom.
- IMOGEN. No, my lord;
- I have got two worlds by't. O my gentle brothers,
- Have we thus met? O, never say hereafter
- But I am truest speaker! You call'd me brother,
- When I was but your sister: I you brothers,
- When we were so indeed.
- CYMBELINE. Did you e'er meet?
- ARVIRAGUS. Ay, my good lord.
- GUIDERIUS. And at first meeting lov'd,
- Continu'd so until we thought he died.
- CORNELIUS. By the Queen's dram she swallow'd.
- CYMBELINE. O rare instinct!
- When shall I hear all through? This fierce abridgment
- Hath to it circumstantial branches, which
- Distinction should be rich in. Where? how liv'd you?
- And when came you to serve our Roman captive?
- How parted with your brothers? how first met them?
- Why fled you from the court? and whither? These,
- And your three motives to the battle, with
- I know not how much more, should be demanded,
- And all the other by-dependences,
- From chance to chance; but nor the time nor place
- Will serve our long interrogatories. See,
- Posthumus anchors upon Imogen;
- And she, like harmless lightning, throws her eye
- On him, her brothers, me, her master, hitting
- Each object with a joy; the counterchange
- Is severally in all. Let's quit this ground,
- And smoke the temple with our sacrifices.
- [To BELARIUS] Thou art my brother; so we'll hold thee ever.
- IMOGEN. You are my father too, and did relieve me
- To see this gracious season.
- CYMBELINE. All o'erjoy'd
- Save these in bonds. Let them be joyful too,
- For they shall taste our comfort.
- IMOGEN. My good master,
- I will yet do you service.
- LUCIUS. Happy be you!
- CYMBELINE. The forlorn soldier, that so nobly fought,
- He would have well becom'd this place and grac'd
- The thankings of a king.
- POSTHUMUS. I am, sir,
- The soldier that did company these three
- In poor beseeming; 'twas a fitment for
- The purpose I then follow'd. That I was he,
- Speak, Iachimo. I had you down, and might
- Have made you finish.
- IACHIMO. [Kneeling] I am down again;
- But now my heavy conscience sinks my knee,
- As then your force did. Take that life, beseech you,
- Which I so often owe; but your ring first,
- And here the bracelet of the truest princess
- That ever swore her faith.
- POSTHUMUS. Kneel not to me.
- The pow'r that I have on you is to spare you;
- The malice towards you to forgive you. Live,
- And deal with others better.
- CYMBELINE. Nobly doom'd!
- We'll learn our freeness of a son-in-law;
- Pardon's the word to all.
- ARVIRAGUS. You holp us, sir,
- As you did mean indeed to be our brother;
- Joy'd are we that you are.
- POSTHUMUS. Your servant, Princes. Good my lord of Rome,
- Call forth your soothsayer. As I slept, methought
- Great Jupiter, upon his eagle back'd,
- Appear'd to me, with other spritely shows
- Of mine own kindred. When I wak'd, I found
- This label on my bosom; whose containing
- Is so from sense in hardness that I can
- Make no collection of it. Let him show
- His skill in the construction.
- LUCIUS. Philarmonus!
- SOOTHSAYER. Here, my good lord.
- LUCIUS. Read, and declare the meaning.
- SOOTHSAYER. [Reads] 'When as a lion's whelp shall, to himself
- unknown, without seeking find, and be embrac'd by
- a piece of tender air; and when from a stately cedar shall
- be lopp'd branches which, being dead many years, shall
- after revive, be jointed to the old stock, and freshly grow;
- then shall Posthumus end his miseries, Britain be fortunate
- and flourish in peace and plenty.'
- Thou, Leonatus, art the lion's whelp;
- The fit and apt construction of thy name,
- Being Leo-natus, doth import so much.
- [To CYMBELINE] The piece of tender air, thy virtuous daughter,
- Which we call 'mollis aer,' and 'mollis aer'
- We term it 'mulier'; which 'mulier' I divine
- Is this most constant wife, who even now
- Answering the letter of the oracle,
- Unknown to you, unsought, were clipp'd about
- With this most tender air.
- CYMBELINE. This hath some seeming.
- SOOTHSAYER. The lofty cedar, royal Cymbeline,
- Personates thee; and thy lopp'd branches point
- Thy two sons forth, who, by Belarius stol'n,
- For many years thought dead, are now reviv'd,
- To the majestic cedar join'd, whose issue
- Promises Britain peace and plenty.
- CYMBELINE. Well,
- My peace we will begin. And, Caius Lucius,
- Although the victor, we submit to Caesar
- And to the Roman empire, promising
- To pay our wonted tribute, from the which
- We were dissuaded by our wicked queen,
- Whom heavens in justice, both on her and hers,
- Have laid most heavy hand.
- SOOTHSAYER. The fingers of the pow'rs above do tune
- The harmony of this peace. The vision
- Which I made known to Lucius ere the stroke
- Of yet this scarce-cold battle, at this instant
- Is full accomplish'd; for the Roman eagle,
- From south to west on wing soaring aloft,
- Lessen'd herself and in the beams o' th' sun
- So vanish'd; which foreshow'd our princely eagle,
- Th'imperial Caesar, Caesar, should again unite
- His favour with the radiant Cymbeline,
- Which shines here in the west.
- CYMBELINE. Laud we the gods;
- And let our crooked smokes climb to their nostrils
- From our bless'd altars. Publish we this peace
- To all our subjects. Set we forward; let
- A Roman and a British ensign wave
- Friendly together. So through Lud's Town march;
- And in the temple of great Jupiter
- Our peace we'll ratify; seal it with feasts.
- Set on there! Never was a war did cease,
- Ere bloody hands were wash'd, with such a peace. Exeunt
-
-THE END
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
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-
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-1604
-
-
-THE TRAGEDY OF HAMLET, PRINCE OF DENMARK
-
-
-by William Shakespeare
-
-
-
-Dramatis Personae
-
- Claudius, King of Denmark.
- Marcellus, Officer.
- Hamlet, son to the former, and nephew to the present king.
- Polonius, Lord Chamberlain.
- Horatio, friend to Hamlet.
- Laertes, son to Polonius.
- Voltemand, courtier.
- Cornelius, courtier.
- Rosencrantz, courtier.
- Guildenstern, courtier.
- Osric, courtier.
- A Gentleman, courtier.
- A Priest.
- Marcellus, officer.
- Bernardo, officer.
- Francisco, a soldier
- Reynaldo, servant to Polonius.
- Players.
- Two Clowns, gravediggers.
- Fortinbras, Prince of Norway.
- A Norwegian Captain.
- English Ambassadors.
-
- Getrude, Queen of Denmark, mother to Hamlet.
- Ophelia, daughter to Polonius.
-
- Ghost of Hamlet's Father.
-
- Lords, ladies, Officers, Soldiers, Sailors, Messengers, Attendants.
-
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
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-SCENE.- Elsinore.
-
-
-ACT I. Scene I.
-Elsinore. A platform before the Castle.
-
-Enter two Sentinels-[first,] Francisco, [who paces up and down
-at his post; then] Bernardo, [who approaches him].
-
- Ber. Who's there.?
- Fran. Nay, answer me. Stand and unfold yourself.
- Ber. Long live the King!
- Fran. Bernardo?
- Ber. He.
- Fran. You come most carefully upon your hour.
- Ber. 'Tis now struck twelve. Get thee to bed, Francisco.
- Fran. For this relief much thanks. 'Tis bitter cold,
- And I am sick at heart.
- Ber. Have you had quiet guard?
- Fran. Not a mouse stirring.
- Ber. Well, good night.
- If you do meet Horatio and Marcellus,
- The rivals of my watch, bid them make haste.
-
- Enter Horatio and Marcellus.
-
- Fran. I think I hear them. Stand, ho! Who is there?
- Hor. Friends to this ground.
- Mar. And liegemen to the Dane.
- Fran. Give you good night.
- Mar. O, farewell, honest soldier.
- Who hath reliev'd you?
- Fran. Bernardo hath my place.
- Give you good night. Exit.
- Mar. Holla, Bernardo!
- Ber. Say-
- What, is Horatio there ?
- Hor. A piece of him.
- Ber. Welcome, Horatio. Welcome, good Marcellus.
- Mar. What, has this thing appear'd again to-night?
- Ber. I have seen nothing.
- Mar. Horatio says 'tis but our fantasy,
- And will not let belief take hold of him
- Touching this dreaded sight, twice seen of us.
- Therefore I have entreated him along,
- With us to watch the minutes of this night,
- That, if again this apparition come,
- He may approve our eyes and speak to it.
- Hor. Tush, tush, 'twill not appear.
- Ber. Sit down awhile,
- And let us once again assail your ears,
- That are so fortified against our story,
- What we two nights have seen.
- Hor. Well, sit we down,
- And let us hear Bernardo speak of this.
- Ber. Last night of all,
- When yond same star that's westward from the pole
- Had made his course t' illume that part of heaven
- Where now it burns, Marcellus and myself,
- The bell then beating one-
-
- Enter Ghost.
-
- Mar. Peace! break thee off! Look where it comes again!
- Ber. In the same figure, like the King that's dead.
- Mar. Thou art a scholar; speak to it, Horatio.
- Ber. Looks it not like the King? Mark it, Horatio.
- Hor. Most like. It harrows me with fear and wonder.
- Ber. It would be spoke to.
- Mar. Question it, Horatio.
- Hor. What art thou that usurp'st this time of night
- Together with that fair and warlike form
- In which the majesty of buried Denmark
- Did sometimes march? By heaven I charge thee speak!
- Mar. It is offended.
- Ber. See, it stalks away!
- Hor. Stay! Speak, speak! I charge thee speak!
- Exit Ghost.
- Mar. 'Tis gone and will not answer.
- Ber. How now, Horatio? You tremble and look pale.
- Is not this something more than fantasy?
- What think you on't?
- Hor. Before my God, I might not this believe
- Without the sensible and true avouch
- Of mine own eyes.
- Mar. Is it not like the King?
- Hor. As thou art to thyself.
- Such was the very armour he had on
- When he th' ambitious Norway combated.
- So frown'd he once when, in an angry parle,
- He smote the sledded Polacks on the ice.
- 'Tis strange.
- Mar. Thus twice before, and jump at this dead hour,
- With martial stalk hath he gone by our watch.
- Hor. In what particular thought to work I know not;
- But, in the gross and scope of my opinion,
- This bodes some strange eruption to our state.
- Mar. Good now, sit down, and tell me he that knows,
- Why this same strict and most observant watch
- So nightly toils the subject of the land,
- And why such daily cast of brazen cannon
- And foreign mart for implements of war;
- Why such impress of shipwrights, whose sore task
- Does not divide the Sunday from the week.
- What might be toward, that this sweaty haste
- Doth make the night joint-labourer with the day?
- Who is't that can inform me?
- Hor. That can I.
- At least, the whisper goes so. Our last king,
- Whose image even but now appear'd to us,
- Was, as you know, by Fortinbras of Norway,
- Thereto prick'd on by a most emulate pride,
- Dar'd to the combat; in which our valiant Hamlet
- (For so this side of our known world esteem'd him)
- Did slay this Fortinbras; who, by a seal'd compact,
- Well ratified by law and heraldry,
- Did forfeit, with his life, all those his lands
- Which he stood seiz'd of, to the conqueror;
- Against the which a moiety competent
- Was gaged by our king; which had return'd
- To the inheritance of Fortinbras,
- Had he been vanquisher, as, by the same comart
- And carriage of the article design'd,
- His fell to Hamlet. Now, sir, young Fortinbras,
- Of unimproved mettle hot and full,
- Hath in the skirts of Norway, here and there,
- Shark'd up a list of lawless resolutes,
- For food and diet, to some enterprise
- That hath a stomach in't; which is no other,
- As it doth well appear unto our state,
- But to recover of us, by strong hand
- And terms compulsatory, those foresaid lands
- So by his father lost; and this, I take it,
- Is the main motive of our preparations,
- The source of this our watch, and the chief head
- Of this post-haste and romage in the land.
- Ber. I think it be no other but e'en so.
- Well may it sort that this portentous figure
- Comes armed through our watch, so like the King
- That was and is the question of these wars.
- Hor. A mote it is to trouble the mind's eye.
- In the most high and palmy state of Rome,
- A little ere the mightiest Julius fell,
- The graves stood tenantless, and the sheeted dead
- Did squeak and gibber in the Roman streets;
- As stars with trains of fire, and dews of blood,
- Disasters in the sun; and the moist star
- Upon whose influence Neptune's empire stands
- Was sick almost to doomsday with eclipse.
- And even the like precurse of fierce events,
- As harbingers preceding still the fates
- And prologue to the omen coming on,
- Have heaven and earth together demonstrated
- Unto our climature and countrymen.
-
- Enter Ghost again.
-
- But soft! behold! Lo, where it comes again!
- I'll cross it, though it blast me.- Stay illusion!
- Spreads his arms.
- If thou hast any sound, or use of voice,
- Speak to me.
- If there be any good thing to be done,
- That may to thee do ease, and, race to me,
- Speak to me.
- If thou art privy to thy country's fate,
- Which happily foreknowing may avoid,
- O, speak!
- Or if thou hast uphoarded in thy life
- Extorted treasure in the womb of earth
- (For which, they say, you spirits oft walk in death),
- The cock crows.
- Speak of it! Stay, and speak!- Stop it, Marcellus!
- Mar. Shall I strike at it with my partisan?
- Hor. Do, if it will not stand.
- Ber. 'Tis here!
- Hor. 'Tis here!
- Mar. 'Tis gone!
- Exit Ghost.
- We do it wrong, being so majestical,
- To offer it the show of violence;
- For it is as the air, invulnerable,
- And our vain blows malicious mockery.
- Ber. It was about to speak, when the cock crew.
- Hor. And then it started, like a guilty thing
- Upon a fearful summons. I have heard
- The cock, that is the trumpet to the morn,
- Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding throat
- Awake the god of day; and at his warning,
- Whether in sea or fire, in earth or air,
- Th' extravagant and erring spirit hies
- To his confine; and of the truth herein
- This present object made probation.
- Mar. It faded on the crowing of the cock.
- Some say that ever, 'gainst that season comes
- Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated,
- The bird of dawning singeth all night long;
- And then, they say, no spirit dare stir abroad,
- The nights are wholesome, then no planets strike,
- No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm,
- So hallow'd and so gracious is the time.
- Hor. So have I heard and do in part believe it.
- But look, the morn, in russet mantle clad,
- Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastward hill.
- Break we our watch up; and by my advice
- Let us impart what we have seen to-night
- Unto young Hamlet; for, upon my life,
- This spirit, dumb to us, will speak to him.
- Do you consent we shall acquaint him with it,
- As needful in our loves, fitting our duty?
- Let's do't, I pray; and I this morning know
- Where we shall find him most conveniently. Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-Scene II.
-Elsinore. A room of state in the Castle.
-
-Flourish. [Enter Claudius, King of Denmark, Gertrude the Queen, Hamlet,
-Polonius, Laertes and his sister Ophelia, [Voltemand, Cornelius,]
-Lords Attendant.
-
- King. Though yet of Hamlet our dear brother's death
- The memory be green, and that it us befitted
- To bear our hearts in grief, and our whole kingdom
- To be contracted in one brow of woe,
- Yet so far hath discretion fought with nature
- That we with wisest sorrow think on him
- Together with remembrance of ourselves.
- Therefore our sometime sister, now our queen,
- Th' imperial jointress to this warlike state,
- Have we, as 'twere with a defeated joy,
- With an auspicious, and a dropping eye,
- With mirth in funeral, and with dirge in marriage,
- In equal scale weighing delight and dole,
- Taken to wife; nor have we herein barr'd
- Your better wisdoms, which have freely gone
- With this affair along. For all, our thanks.
- Now follows, that you know, young Fortinbras,
- Holding a weak supposal of our worth,
- Or thinking by our late dear brother's death
- Our state to be disjoint and out of frame,
- Colleagued with this dream of his advantage,
- He hath not fail'd to pester us with message
- Importing the surrender of those lands
- Lost by his father, with all bands of law,
- To our most valiant brother. So much for him.
- Now for ourself and for this time of meeting.
- Thus much the business is: we have here writ
- To Norway, uncle of young Fortinbras,
- Who, impotent and bedrid, scarcely hears
- Of this his nephew's purpose, to suppress
- His further gait herein, in that the levies,
- The lists, and full proportions are all made
- Out of his subject; and we here dispatch
- You, good Cornelius, and you, Voltemand,
- For bearers of this greeting to old Norway,
- Giving to you no further personal power
- To business with the King, more than the scope
- Of these dilated articles allow. [Gives a paper.]
- Farewell, and let your haste commend your duty.
- Cor., Volt. In that, and all things, will we show our duty.
- King. We doubt it nothing. Heartily farewell.
- Exeunt Voltemand and Cornelius.
- And now, Laertes, what's the news with you?
- You told us of some suit. What is't, Laertes?
- You cannot speak of reason to the Dane
- And lose your voice. What wouldst thou beg, Laertes,
- That shall not be my offer, not thy asking?
- The head is not more native to the heart,
- The hand more instrumental to the mouth,
- Than is the throne of Denmark to thy father.
- What wouldst thou have, Laertes?
- Laer. My dread lord,
- Your leave and favour to return to France;
- From whence though willingly I came to Denmark
- To show my duty in your coronation,
- Yet now I must confess, that duty done,
- My thoughts and wishes bend again toward France
- And bow them to your gracious leave and pardon.
- King. Have you your father's leave? What says Polonius?
- Pol. He hath, my lord, wrung from me my slow leave
- By laboursome petition, and at last
- Upon his will I seal'd my hard consent.
- I do beseech you give him leave to go.
- King. Take thy fair hour, Laertes. Time be thine,
- And thy best graces spend it at thy will!
- But now, my cousin Hamlet, and my son-
- Ham. [aside] A little more than kin, and less than kind!
- King. How is it that the clouds still hang on you?
- Ham. Not so, my lord. I am too much i' th' sun.
- Queen. Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour off,
- And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark.
- Do not for ever with thy vailed lids
- Seek for thy noble father in the dust.
- Thou know'st 'tis common. All that lives must die,
- Passing through nature to eternity.
- Ham. Ay, madam, it is common.
- Queen. If it be,
- Why seems it so particular with thee?
- Ham. Seems, madam, Nay, it is. I know not 'seems.'
- 'Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother,
- Nor customary suits of solemn black,
- Nor windy suspiration of forc'd breath,
- No, nor the fruitful river in the eye,
- Nor the dejected havior of the visage,
- Together with all forms, moods, shapes of grief,
- 'That can denote me truly. These indeed seem,
- For they are actions that a man might play;
- But I have that within which passeth show-
- These but the trappings and the suits of woe.
- King. 'Tis sweet and commendable in your nature, Hamlet,
- To give these mourning duties to your father;
- But you must know, your father lost a father;
- That father lost, lost his, and the survivor bound
- In filial obligation for some term
- To do obsequious sorrow. But to persever
- In obstinate condolement is a course
- Of impious stubbornness. 'Tis unmanly grief;
- It shows a will most incorrect to heaven,
- A heart unfortified, a mind impatient,
- An understanding simple and unschool'd;
- For what we know must be, and is as common
- As any the most vulgar thing to sense,
- Why should we in our peevish opposition
- Take it to heart? Fie! 'tis a fault to heaven,
- A fault against the dead, a fault to nature,
- To reason most absurd, whose common theme
- Is death of fathers, and who still hath cried,
- From the first corse till he that died to-day,
- 'This must be so.' We pray you throw to earth
- This unprevailing woe, and think of us
- As of a father; for let the world take note
- You are the most immediate to our throne,
- And with no less nobility of love
- Than that which dearest father bears his son
- Do I impart toward you. For your intent
- In going back to school in Wittenberg,
- It is most retrograde to our desire;
- And we beseech you, bend you to remain
- Here in the cheer and comfort of our eye,
- Our chiefest courtier, cousin, and our son.
- Queen. Let not thy mother lose her prayers, Hamlet.
- I pray thee stay with us, go not to Wittenberg.
- Ham. I shall in all my best obey you, madam.
- King. Why, 'tis a loving and a fair reply.
- Be as ourself in Denmark. Madam, come.
- This gentle and unforc'd accord of Hamlet
- Sits smiling to my heart; in grace whereof,
- No jocund health that Denmark drinks to-day
- But the great cannon to the clouds shall tell,
- And the King's rouse the heaven shall bruit again,
- Respeaking earthly thunder. Come away.
- Flourish. Exeunt all but Hamlet.
- Ham. O that this too too solid flesh would melt,
- Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew!
- Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd
- His canon 'gainst self-slaughter! O God! God!
- How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable
- Seem to me all the uses of this world!
- Fie on't! ah, fie! 'Tis an unweeded garden
- That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature
- Possess it merely. That it should come to this!
- But two months dead! Nay, not so much, not two.
- So excellent a king, that was to this
- Hyperion to a satyr; so loving to my mother
- That he might not beteem the winds of heaven
- Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth!
- Must I remember? Why, she would hang on him
- As if increase of appetite had grown
- By what it fed on; and yet, within a month-
- Let me not think on't! Frailty, thy name is woman!-
- A little month, or ere those shoes were old
- With which she followed my poor father's body
- Like Niobe, all tears- why she, even she
- (O God! a beast that wants discourse of reason
- Would have mourn'd longer) married with my uncle;
- My father's brother, but no more like my father
- Than I to Hercules. Within a month,
- Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears
- Had left the flushing in her galled eyes,
- She married. O, most wicked speed, to post
- With such dexterity to incestuous sheets!
- It is not, nor it cannot come to good.
- But break my heart, for I must hold my tongue!
-
- Enter Horatio, Marcellus, and Bernardo.
-
- Hor. Hail to your lordship!
- Ham. I am glad to see you well.
- Horatio!- or I do forget myself.
- Hor. The same, my lord, and your poor servant ever.
- Ham. Sir, my good friend- I'll change that name with you.
- And what make you from Wittenberg, Horatio?
- Marcellus?
- Mar. My good lord!
- Ham. I am very glad to see you.- [To Bernardo] Good even, sir.-
- But what, in faith, make you from Wittenberg?
- Hor. A truant disposition, good my lord.
- Ham. I would not hear your enemy say so,
- Nor shall you do my ear that violence
- To make it truster of your own report
- Against yourself. I know you are no truant.
- But what is your affair in Elsinore?
- We'll teach you to drink deep ere you depart.
- Hor. My lord, I came to see your father's funeral.
- Ham. I prithee do not mock me, fellow student.
- I think it was to see my mother's wedding.
- Hor. Indeed, my lord, it followed hard upon.
- Ham. Thrift, thrift, Horatio! The funeral bak'd meats
- Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables.
- Would I had met my dearest foe in heaven
- Or ever I had seen that day, Horatio!
- My father- methinks I see my father.
- Hor. O, where, my lord?
- Ham. In my mind's eye, Horatio.
- Hor. I saw him once. He was a goodly king.
- Ham. He was a man, take him for all in all.
- I shall not look upon his like again.
- Hor. My lord, I think I saw him yesternight.
- Ham. Saw? who?
- Hor. My lord, the King your father.
- Ham. The King my father?
- Hor. Season your admiration for a while
- With an attent ear, till I may deliver
- Upon the witness of these gentlemen,
- This marvel to you.
- Ham. For God's love let me hear!
- Hor. Two nights together had these gentlemen
- (Marcellus and Bernardo) on their watch
- In the dead vast and middle of the night
- Been thus encount'red. A figure like your father,
- Armed at point exactly, cap-a-pe,
- Appears before them and with solemn march
- Goes slow and stately by them. Thrice he walk'd
- By their oppress'd and fear-surprised eyes,
- Within his truncheon's length; whilst they distill'd
- Almost to jelly with the act of fear,
- Stand dumb and speak not to him. This to me
- In dreadful secrecy impart they did,
- And I with them the third night kept the watch;
- Where, as they had deliver'd, both in time,
- Form of the thing, each word made true and good,
- The apparition comes. I knew your father.
- These hands are not more like.
- Ham. But where was this?
- Mar. My lord, upon the platform where we watch'd.
- Ham. Did you not speak to it?
- Hor. My lord, I did;
- But answer made it none. Yet once methought
- It lifted up it head and did address
- Itself to motion, like as it would speak;
- But even then the morning cock crew loud,
- And at the sound it shrunk in haste away
- And vanish'd from our sight.
- Ham. 'Tis very strange.
- Hor. As I do live, my honour'd lord, 'tis true;
- And we did think it writ down in our duty
- To let you know of it.
- Ham. Indeed, indeed, sirs. But this troubles me.
- Hold you the watch to-night?
- Both [Mar. and Ber.] We do, my lord.
- Ham. Arm'd, say you?
- Both. Arm'd, my lord.
- Ham. From top to toe?
- Both. My lord, from head to foot.
- Ham. Then saw you not his face?
- Hor. O, yes, my lord! He wore his beaver up.
- Ham. What, look'd he frowningly.
- Hor. A countenance more in sorrow than in anger.
- Ham. Pale or red?
- Hor. Nay, very pale.
- Ham. And fix'd his eyes upon you?
- Hor. Most constantly.
- Ham. I would I had been there.
- Hor. It would have much amaz'd you.
- Ham. Very like, very like. Stay'd it long?
- Hor. While one with moderate haste might tell a hundred.
- Both. Longer, longer.
- Hor. Not when I saw't.
- Ham. His beard was grizzled- no?
- Hor. It was, as I have seen it in his life,
- A sable silver'd.
- Ham. I will watch to-night.
- Perchance 'twill walk again.
- Hor. I warr'nt it will.
- Ham. If it assume my noble father's person,
- I'll speak to it, though hell itself should gape
- And bid me hold my peace. I pray you all,
- If you have hitherto conceal'd this sight,
- Let it be tenable in your silence still;
- And whatsoever else shall hap to-night,
- Give it an understanding but no tongue.
- I will requite your loves. So, fare you well.
- Upon the platform, 'twixt eleven and twelve,
- I'll visit you.
- All. Our duty to your honour.
- Ham. Your loves, as mine to you. Farewell.
- Exeunt [all but Hamlet].
- My father's spirit- in arms? All is not well.
- I doubt some foul play. Would the night were come!
- Till then sit still, my soul. Foul deeds will rise,
- Though all the earth o'erwhelm them, to men's eyes.
-Exit.
-
-
-
-
-Scene III.
-Elsinore. A room in the house of Polonius.
-
-Enter Laertes and Ophelia.
-
- Laer. My necessaries are embark'd. Farewell.
- And, sister, as the winds give benefit
- And convoy is assistant, do not sleep,
- But let me hear from you.
- Oph. Do you doubt that?
- Laer. For Hamlet, and the trifling of his favour,
- Hold it a fashion, and a toy in blood;
- A violet in the youth of primy nature,
- Forward, not permanent- sweet, not lasting;
- The perfume and suppliance of a minute;
- No more.
- Oph. No more but so?
- Laer. Think it no more.
- For nature crescent does not grow alone
- In thews and bulk; but as this temple waxes,
- The inward service of the mind and soul
- Grows wide withal. Perhaps he loves you now,
- And now no soil nor cautel doth besmirch
- The virtue of his will; but you must fear,
- His greatness weigh'd, his will is not his own;
- For he himself is subject to his birth.
- He may not, as unvalued persons do,
- Carve for himself, for on his choice depends
- The safety and health of this whole state,
- And therefore must his choice be circumscrib'd
- Unto the voice and yielding of that body
- Whereof he is the head. Then if he says he loves you,
- It fits your wisdom so far to believe it
- As he in his particular act and place
- May give his saying deed; which is no further
- Than the main voice of Denmark goes withal.
- Then weigh what loss your honour may sustain
- If with too credent ear you list his songs,
- Or lose your heart, or your chaste treasure open
- To his unmast'red importunity.
- Fear it, Ophelia, fear it, my dear sister,
- And keep you in the rear of your affection,
- Out of the shot and danger of desire.
- The chariest maid is prodigal enough
- If she unmask her beauty to the moon.
- Virtue itself scopes not calumnious strokes.
- The canker galls the infants of the spring
- Too oft before their buttons be disclos'd,
- And in the morn and liquid dew of youth
- Contagious blastments are most imminent.
- Be wary then; best safety lies in fear.
- Youth to itself rebels, though none else near.
- Oph. I shall th' effect of this good lesson keep
- As watchman to my heart. But, good my brother,
- Do not as some ungracious pastors do,
- Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven,
- Whiles, like a puff'd and reckless libertine,
- Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads
- And recks not his own rede.
- Laer. O, fear me not!
-
- Enter Polonius.
-
- I stay too long. But here my father comes.
- A double blessing is a double grace;
- Occasion smiles upon a second leave.
- Pol. Yet here, Laertes? Aboard, aboard, for shame!
- The wind sits in the shoulder of your sail,
- And you are stay'd for. There- my blessing with thee!
- And these few precepts in thy memory
- Look thou character. Give thy thoughts no tongue,
- Nor any unproportion'd thought his act.
- Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar:
- Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,
- Grapple them unto thy soul with hoops of steel;
- But do not dull thy palm with entertainment
- Of each new-hatch'd, unfledg'd comrade. Beware
- Of entrance to a quarrel; but being in,
- Bear't that th' opposed may beware of thee.
- Give every man thine ear, but few thy voice;
- Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment.
- Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy,
- But not express'd in fancy; rich, not gaudy;
- For the apparel oft proclaims the man,
- And they in France of the best rank and station
- Are most select and generous, chief in that.
- Neither a borrower nor a lender be;
- For loan oft loses both itself and friend,
- And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.
- This above all- to thine own self be true,
- And it must follow, as the night the day,
- Thou canst not then be false to any man.
- Farewell. My blessing season this in thee!
- Laer. Most humbly do I take my leave, my lord.
- Pol. The time invites you. Go, your servants tend.
- Laer. Farewell, Ophelia, and remember well
- What I have said to you.
- Oph. 'Tis in my memory lock'd,
- And you yourself shall keep the key of it.
- Laer. Farewell. Exit.
- Pol. What is't, Ophelia, he hath said to you?
- Oph. So please you, something touching the Lord Hamlet.
- Pol. Marry, well bethought!
- 'Tis told me he hath very oft of late
- Given private time to you, and you yourself
- Have of your audience been most free and bounteous.
- If it be so- as so 'tis put on me,
- And that in way of caution- I must tell you
- You do not understand yourself so clearly
- As it behooves my daughter and your honour.
- What is between you? Give me up the truth.
- Oph. He hath, my lord, of late made many tenders
- Of his affection to me.
- Pol. Affection? Pooh! You speak like a green girl,
- Unsifted in such perilous circumstance.
- Do you believe his tenders, as you call them?
- Oph. I do not know, my lord, what I should think,
- Pol. Marry, I will teach you! Think yourself a baby
- That you have ta'en these tenders for true pay,
- Which are not sterling. Tender yourself more dearly,
- Or (not to crack the wind of the poor phrase,
- Running it thus) you'll tender me a fool.
- Oph. My lord, he hath importun'd me with love
- In honourable fashion.
- Pol. Ay, fashion you may call it. Go to, go to!
- Oph. And hath given countenance to his speech, my lord,
- With almost all the holy vows of heaven.
- Pol. Ay, springes to catch woodcocks! I do know,
- When the blood burns, how prodigal the soul
- Lends the tongue vows. These blazes, daughter,
- Giving more light than heat, extinct in both
- Even in their promise, as it is a-making,
- You must not take for fire. From this time
- Be something scanter of your maiden presence.
- Set your entreatments at a higher rate
- Than a command to parley. For Lord Hamlet,
- Believe so much in him, that he is young,
- And with a larger tether may he walk
- Than may be given you. In few, Ophelia,
- Do not believe his vows; for they are brokers,
- Not of that dye which their investments show,
- But mere implorators of unholy suits,
- Breathing like sanctified and pious bawds,
- The better to beguile. This is for all:
- I would not, in plain terms, from this time forth
- Have you so slander any moment leisure
- As to give words or talk with the Lord Hamlet.
- Look to't, I charge you. Come your ways.
- Oph. I shall obey, my lord.
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-Scene IV.
-Elsinore. The platform before the Castle.
-
-Enter Hamlet, Horatio, and Marcellus.
-
- Ham. The air bites shrewdly; it is very cold.
- Hor. It is a nipping and an eager air.
- Ham. What hour now?
- Hor. I think it lacks of twelve.
- Mar. No, it is struck.
- Hor. Indeed? I heard it not. It then draws near the season
- Wherein the spirit held his wont to walk.
- A flourish of trumpets, and two pieces go off.
- What does this mean, my lord?
- Ham. The King doth wake to-night and takes his rouse,
- Keeps wassail, and the swagg'ring upspring reels,
- And, as he drains his draughts of Rhenish down,
- The kettledrum and trumpet thus bray out
- The triumph of his pledge.
- Hor. Is it a custom?
- Ham. Ay, marry, is't;
- But to my mind, though I am native here
- And to the manner born, it is a custom
- More honour'd in the breach than the observance.
- This heavy-headed revel east and west
- Makes us traduc'd and tax'd of other nations;
- They clip us drunkards and with swinish phrase
- Soil our addition; and indeed it takes
- From our achievements, though perform'd at height,
- The pith and marrow of our attribute.
- So oft it chances in particular men
- That, for some vicious mole of nature in them,
- As in their birth,- wherein they are not guilty,
- Since nature cannot choose his origin,-
- By the o'ergrowth of some complexion,
- Oft breaking down the pales and forts of reason,
- Or by some habit that too much o'erleavens
- The form of plausive manners, that these men
- Carrying, I say, the stamp of one defect,
- Being nature's livery, or fortune's star,
- Their virtues else- be they as pure as grace,
- As infinite as man may undergo-
- Shall in the general censure take corruption
- From that particular fault. The dram of e'il
- Doth all the noble substance often dout To his own scandal.
-
- Enter Ghost.
-
- Hor. Look, my lord, it comes!
- Ham. Angels and ministers of grace defend us!
- Be thou a spirit of health or goblin damn'd,
- Bring with thee airs from heaven or blasts from hell,
- Be thy intents wicked or charitable,
- Thou com'st in such a questionable shape
- That I will speak to thee. I'll call thee Hamlet,
- King, father, royal Dane. O, answer me?
- Let me not burst in ignorance, but tell
- Why thy canoniz'd bones, hearsed in death,
- Have burst their cerements; why the sepulchre
- Wherein we saw thee quietly inurn'd,
- Hath op'd his ponderous and marble jaws
- To cast thee up again. What may this mean
- That thou, dead corse, again in complete steel,
- Revisits thus the glimpses of the moon,
- Making night hideous, and we fools of nature
- So horridly to shake our disposition
- With thoughts beyond the reaches of our souls?
- Say, why is this? wherefore? What should we do?
- Ghost beckons Hamlet.
- Hor. It beckons you to go away with it,
- As if it some impartment did desire
- To you alone.
- Mar. Look with what courteous action
- It waves you to a more removed ground.
- But do not go with it!
- Hor. No, by no means!
- Ham. It will not speak. Then will I follow it.
- Hor. Do not, my lord!
- Ham. Why, what should be the fear?
- I do not set my life at a pin's fee;
- And for my soul, what can it do to that,
- Being a thing immortal as itself?
- It waves me forth again. I'll follow it.
- Hor. What if it tempt you toward the flood, my lord,
- Or to the dreadful summit of the cliff
- That beetles o'er his base into the sea,
- And there assume some other, horrible form
- Which might deprive your sovereignty of reason
- And draw you into madness? Think of it.
- The very place puts toys of desperation,
- Without more motive, into every brain
- That looks so many fadoms to the sea
- And hears it roar beneath.
- Ham. It waves me still.
- Go on. I'll follow thee.
- Mar. You shall not go, my lord.
- Ham. Hold off your hands!
- Hor. Be rul'd. You shall not go.
- Ham. My fate cries out
- And makes each petty artire in this body
- As hardy as the Nemean lion's nerve.
- [Ghost beckons.]
- Still am I call'd. Unhand me, gentlemen.
- By heaven, I'll make a ghost of him that lets me!-
- I say, away!- Go on. I'll follow thee.
- Exeunt Ghost and Hamlet.
- Hor. He waxes desperate with imagination.
- Mar. Let's follow. 'Tis not fit thus to obey him.
- Hor. Have after. To what issue wail this come?
- Mar. Something is rotten in the state of Denmark.
- Hor. Heaven will direct it.
- Mar. Nay, let's follow him.
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-Scene V.
-Elsinore. The Castle. Another part of the fortifications.
-
-Enter Ghost and Hamlet.
-
- Ham. Whither wilt thou lead me? Speak! I'll go no further.
- Ghost. Mark me.
- Ham. I will.
- Ghost. My hour is almost come,
- When I to sulph'rous and tormenting flames
- Must render up myself.
- Ham. Alas, poor ghost!
- Ghost. Pity me not, but lend thy serious hearing
- To what I shall unfold.
- Ham. Speak. I am bound to hear.
- Ghost. So art thou to revenge, when thou shalt hear.
- Ham. What?
- Ghost. I am thy father's spirit,
- Doom'd for a certain term to walk the night,
- And for the day confin'd to fast in fires,
- Till the foul crimes done in my days of nature
- Are burnt and purg'd away. But that I am forbid
- To tell the secrets of my prison house,
- I could a tale unfold whose lightest word
- Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood,
- Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres,
- Thy knotted and combined locks to part,
- And each particular hair to stand an end
- Like quills upon the fretful porpentine.
- But this eternal blazon must not be
- To ears of flesh and blood. List, list, O, list!
- If thou didst ever thy dear father love-
- Ham. O God!
- Ghost. Revenge his foul and most unnatural murther.
- Ham. Murther?
- Ghost. Murther most foul, as in the best it is;
- But this most foul, strange, and unnatural.
- Ham. Haste me to know't, that I, with wings as swift
- As meditation or the thoughts of love,
- May sweep to my revenge.
- Ghost. I find thee apt;
- And duller shouldst thou be than the fat weed
- That rots itself in ease on Lethe wharf,
- Wouldst thou not stir in this. Now, Hamlet, hear.
- 'Tis given out that, sleeping in my orchard,
- A serpent stung me. So the whole ear of Denmark
- Is by a forged process of my death
- Rankly abus'd. But know, thou noble youth,
- The serpent that did sting thy father's life
- Now wears his crown.
- Ham. O my prophetic soul!
- My uncle?
- Ghost. Ay, that incestuous, that adulterate beast,
- With witchcraft of his wit, with traitorous gifts-
- O wicked wit and gifts, that have the power
- So to seduce!- won to his shameful lust
- The will of my most seeming-virtuous queen.
- O Hamlet, what a falling-off was there,
- From me, whose love was of that dignity
- That it went hand in hand even with the vow
- I made to her in marriage, and to decline
- Upon a wretch whose natural gifts were poor
- To those of mine!
- But virtue, as it never will be mov'd,
- Though lewdness court it in a shape of heaven,
- So lust, though to a radiant angel link'd,
- Will sate itself in a celestial bed
- And prey on garbage.
- But soft! methinks I scent the morning air.
- Brief let me be. Sleeping within my orchard,
- My custom always of the afternoon,
- Upon my secure hour thy uncle stole,
- With juice of cursed hebona in a vial,
- And in the porches of my ears did pour
- The leperous distilment; whose effect
- Holds such an enmity with blood of man
- That swift as quicksilverr it courses through
- The natural gates and alleys of the body,
- And with a sudden vigour it doth posset
- And curd, like eager droppings into milk,
- The thin and wholesome blood. So did it mine;
- And a most instant tetter bark'd about,
- Most lazar-like, with vile and loathsome crust
- All my smooth body.
- Thus was I, sleeping, by a brother's hand
- Of life, of crown, of queen, at once dispatch'd;
- Cut off even in the blossoms of my sin,
- Unhous'led, disappointed, unanel'd,
- No reckoning made, but sent to my account
- With all my imperfections on my head.
- Ham. O, horrible! O, horrible! most horrible!
- Ghost. If thou hast nature in thee, bear it not.
- Let not the royal bed of Denmark be
- A couch for luxury and damned incest.
- But, howsoever thou pursuest this act,
- Taint not thy mind, nor let thy soul contrive
- Against thy mother aught. Leave her to heaven,
- And to those thorns that in her bosom lodge
- To prick and sting her. Fare thee well at once.
- The glowworm shows the matin to be near
- And gins to pale his uneffectual fire.
- Adieu, adieu, adieu! Remember me. Exit.
- Ham. O all you host of heaven! O earth! What else?
- And shall I couple hell? Hold, hold, my heart!
- And you, my sinews, grow not instant old,
- But bear me stiffly up. Remember thee?
- Ay, thou poor ghost, while memory holds a seat
- In this distracted globe. Remember thee?
- Yea, from the table of my memory
- I'll wipe away all trivial fond records,
- All saws of books, all forms, all pressures past
- That youth and observation copied there,
- And thy commandment all alone shall live
- Within the book and volume of my brain,
- Unmix'd with baser matter. Yes, by heaven!
- O most pernicious woman!
- O villain, villain, smiling, damned villain!
- My tables! Meet it is I set it down
- That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain;
- At least I am sure it may be so in Denmark. [Writes.]
- So, uncle, there you are. Now to my word:
- It is 'Adieu, adieu! Remember me.'
- I have sworn't.
- Hor. (within) My lord, my lord!
-
- Enter Horatio and Marcellus.
-
- Mar. Lord Hamlet!
- Hor. Heaven secure him!
- Ham. So be it!
- Mar. Illo, ho, ho, my lord!
- Ham. Hillo, ho, ho, boy! Come, bird, come.
- Mar. How is't, my noble lord?
- Hor. What news, my lord?
- Mar. O, wonderful!
- Hor. Good my lord, tell it.
- Ham. No, you will reveal it.
- Hor. Not I, my lord, by heaven!
- Mar. Nor I, my lord.
- Ham. How say you then? Would heart of man once think it?
- But you'll be secret?
- Both. Ay, by heaven, my lord.
- Ham. There's neer a villain dwelling in all Denmark
- But he's an arrant knave.
- Hor. There needs no ghost, my lord, come from the grave
- To tell us this.
- Ham. Why, right! You are in the right!
- And so, without more circumstance at all,
- I hold it fit that we shake hands and part;
- You, as your business and desires shall point you,
- For every man hath business and desire,
- Such as it is; and for my own poor part,
- Look you, I'll go pray.
- Hor. These are but wild and whirling words, my lord.
- Ham. I am sorry they offend you, heartily;
- Yes, faith, heartily.
- Hor. There's no offence, my lord.
- Ham. Yes, by Saint Patrick, but there is, Horatio,
- And much offence too. Touching this vision here,
- It is an honest ghost, that let me tell you.
- For your desire to know what is between us,
- O'ermaster't as you may. And now, good friends,
- As you are friends, scholars, and soldiers,
- Give me one poor request.
- Hor. What is't, my lord? We will.
- Ham. Never make known what you have seen to-night.
- Both. My lord, we will not.
- Ham. Nay, but swear't.
- Hor. In faith,
- My lord, not I.
- Mar. Nor I, my lord- in faith.
- Ham. Upon my sword.
- Mar. We have sworn, my lord, already.
- Ham. Indeed, upon my sword, indeed.
-
- Ghost cries under the stage.
-
- Ghost. Swear.
- Ham. Aha boy, say'st thou so? Art thou there, truepenny?
- Come on! You hear this fellow in the cellarage.
- Consent to swear.
- Hor. Propose the oath, my lord.
- Ham. Never to speak of this that you have seen.
- Swear by my sword.
- Ghost. [beneath] Swear.
- Ham. Hic et ubique? Then we'll shift our ground.
- Come hither, gentlemen,
- And lay your hands again upon my sword.
- Never to speak of this that you have heard:
- Swear by my sword.
- Ghost. [beneath] Swear by his sword.
- Ham. Well said, old mole! Canst work i' th' earth so fast?
- A worthy pioner! Once more remove, good friends."
- Hor. O day and night, but this is wondrous strange!
- Ham. And therefore as a stranger give it welcome.
- There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
- Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.
- But come!
- Here, as before, never, so help you mercy,
- How strange or odd soe'er I bear myself
- (As I perchance hereafter shall think meet
- To put an antic disposition on),
- That you, at such times seeing me, never shall,
- With arms encumb'red thus, or this head-shake,
- Or by pronouncing of some doubtful phrase,
- As 'Well, well, we know,' or 'We could, an if we would,'
- Or 'If we list to speak,' or 'There be, an if they might,'
- Or such ambiguous giving out, to note
- That you know aught of me- this is not to do,
- So grace and mercy at your most need help you,
- Swear.
- Ghost. [beneath] Swear.
- [They swear.]
- Ham. Rest, rest, perturbed spirit! So, gentlemen,
- With all my love I do commend me to you;
- And what so poor a man as Hamlet is
- May do t' express his love and friending to you,
- God willing, shall not lack. Let us go in together;
- And still your fingers on your lips, I pray.
- The time is out of joint. O cursed spite
- That ever I was born to set it right!
- Nay, come, let's go together.
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-Act II. Scene I.
-Elsinore. A room in the house of Polonius.
-
-Enter Polonius and Reynaldo.
-
- Pol. Give him this money and these notes, Reynaldo.
- Rey. I will, my lord.
- Pol. You shall do marvell's wisely, good Reynaldo,
- Before You visit him, to make inquire
- Of his behaviour.
- Rey. My lord, I did intend it.
- Pol. Marry, well said, very well said. Look you, sir,
- Enquire me first what Danskers are in Paris;
- And how, and who, what means, and where they keep,
- What company, at what expense; and finding
- By this encompassment and drift of question
- That they do know my son, come you more nearer
- Than your particular demands will touch it.
- Take you, as 'twere, some distant knowledge of him;
- As thus, 'I know his father and his friends,
- And in part him.' Do you mark this, Reynaldo?
- Rey. Ay, very well, my lord.
- Pol. 'And in part him, but,' you may say, 'not well.
- But if't be he I mean, he's very wild
- Addicted so and so'; and there put on him
- What forgeries you please; marry, none so rank
- As may dishonour him- take heed of that;
- But, sir, such wanton, wild, and usual slips
- As are companions noted and most known
- To youth and liberty.
- Rey. As gaming, my lord.
- Pol. Ay, or drinking, fencing, swearing, quarrelling,
- Drabbing. You may go so far.
- Rey. My lord, that would dishonour him.
- Pol. Faith, no, as you may season it in the charge.
- You must not put another scandal on him,
- That he is open to incontinency.
- That's not my meaning. But breathe his faults so quaintly
- That they may seem the taints of liberty,
- The flash and outbreak of a fiery mind,
- A savageness in unreclaimed blood,
- Of general assault.
- Rey. But, my good lord-
- Pol. Wherefore should you do this?
- Rey. Ay, my lord,
- I would know that.
- Pol. Marry, sir, here's my drift,
- And I believe it is a fetch of warrant.
- You laying these slight sullies on my son
- As 'twere a thing a little soil'd i' th' working,
- Mark you,
- Your party in converse, him you would sound,
- Having ever seen in the prenominate crimes
- The youth you breathe of guilty, be assur'd
- He closes with you in this consequence:
- 'Good sir,' or so, or 'friend,' or 'gentleman'-
- According to the phrase or the addition
- Of man and country-
- Rey. Very good, my lord.
- Pol. And then, sir, does 'a this- 'a does- What was I about to say?
- By the mass, I was about to say something! Where did I leave?
- Rey. At 'closes in the consequence,' at 'friend or so,' and
- gentleman.'
- Pol. At 'closes in the consequence'- Ay, marry!
- He closes thus: 'I know the gentleman.
- I saw him yesterday, or t'other day,
- Or then, or then, with such or such; and, as you say,
- There was 'a gaming; there o'ertook in's rouse;
- There falling out at tennis'; or perchance,
- 'I saw him enter such a house of sale,'
- Videlicet, a brothel, or so forth.
- See you now-
- Your bait of falsehood takes this carp of truth;
- And thus do we of wisdom and of reach,
- With windlasses and with assays of bias,
- By indirections find directions out.
- So, by my former lecture and advice,
- Shall you my son. You have me, have you not
- Rey. My lord, I have.
- Pol. God b' wi' ye, fare ye well!
- Rey. Good my lord! [Going.]
- Pol. Observe his inclination in yourself.
- Rey. I shall, my lord.
- Pol. And let him ply his music.
- Rey. Well, my lord.
- Pol. Farewell!
- Exit Reynaldo.
-
- Enter Ophelia.
-
- How now, Ophelia? What's the matter?
- Oph. O my lord, my lord, I have been so affrighted!
- Pol. With what, i' th' name of God I
- Oph. My lord, as I was sewing in my closet,
- Lord Hamlet, with his doublet all unbrac'd,
- No hat upon his head, his stockings foul'd,
- Ungart'red, and down-gyved to his ankle;
- Pale as his shirt, his knees knocking each other,
- And with a look so piteous in purport
- As if he had been loosed out of hell
- To speak of horrors- he comes before me.
- Pol. Mad for thy love?
- Oph. My lord, I do not know,
- But truly I do fear it.
- Pol. What said he?
- Oph. He took me by the wrist and held me hard;
- Then goes he to the length of all his arm,
- And, with his other hand thus o'er his brow,
- He falls to such perusal of my face
- As he would draw it. Long stay'd he so.
- At last, a little shaking of mine arm,
- And thrice his head thus waving up and down,
- He rais'd a sigh so piteous and profound
- As it did seem to shatter all his bulk
- And end his being. That done, he lets me go,
- And with his head over his shoulder turn'd
- He seem'd to find his way without his eyes,
- For out o' doors he went without their help
- And to the last bended their light on me.
- Pol. Come, go with me. I will go seek the King.
- This is the very ecstasy of love,
- Whose violent property fordoes itself
- And leads the will to desperate undertakings
- As oft as any passion under heaven
- That does afflict our natures. I am sorry.
- What, have you given him any hard words of late?
- Oph. No, my good lord; but, as you did command,
- I did repel his letters and denied
- His access to me.
- Pol. That hath made him mad.
- I am sorry that with better heed and judgment
- I had not quoted him. I fear'd he did but trifle
- And meant to wrack thee; but beshrew my jealousy!
- By heaven, it is as proper to our age
- To cast beyond ourselves in our opinions
- As it is common for the younger sort
- To lack discretion. Come, go we to the King.
- This must be known; which, being kept close, might move
- More grief to hide than hate to utter love.
- Come.
- Exeunt.
-
-Scene II.
-Elsinore. A room in the Castle.
-
-Flourish. [Enter King and Queen, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, cum aliis.
-
- King. Welcome, dear Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.
- Moreover that we much did long to see you,
- The need we have to use you did provoke
- Our hasty sending. Something have you heard
- Of Hamlet's transformation. So I call it,
- Sith nor th' exterior nor the inward man
- Resembles that it was. What it should be,
- More than his father's death, that thus hath put him
- So much from th' understanding of himself,
- I cannot dream of. I entreat you both
- That, being of so young clays brought up with him,
- And since so neighbour'd to his youth and haviour,
- That you vouchsafe your rest here in our court
- Some little time; so by your companies
- To draw him on to pleasures, and to gather
- So much as from occasion you may glean,
- Whether aught to us unknown afflicts him thus
- That, open'd, lies within our remedy.
- Queen. Good gentlemen, he hath much talk'd of you,
- And sure I am two men there are not living
- To whom he more adheres. If it will please you
- To show us so much gentry and good will
- As to expend your time with us awhile
- For the supply and profit of our hope,
- Your visitation shall receive such thanks
- As fits a king's remembrance.
- Ros. Both your Majesties
- Might, by the sovereign power you have of us,
- Put your dread pleasures more into command
- Than to entreaty.
- Guil. But we both obey,
- And here give up ourselves, in the full bent,
- To lay our service freely at your feet,
- To be commanded.
- King. Thanks, Rosencrantz and gentle Guildenstern.
- Queen. Thanks, Guildenstern and gentle Rosencrantz.
- And I beseech you instantly to visit
- My too much changed son.- Go, some of you,
- And bring these gentlemen where Hamlet is.
- Guil. Heavens make our presence and our practices
- Pleasant and helpful to him!
- Queen. Ay, amen!
- Exeunt Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, [with some
- Attendants].
-
- Enter Polonius.
-
- Pol. Th' ambassadors from Norway, my good lord,
- Are joyfully return'd.
- King. Thou still hast been the father of good news.
- Pol. Have I, my lord? Assure you, my good liege,
- I hold my duty as I hold my soul,
- Both to my God and to my gracious king;
- And I do think- or else this brain of mine
- Hunts not the trail of policy so sure
- As it hath us'd to do- that I have found
- The very cause of Hamlet's lunacy.
- King. O, speak of that! That do I long to hear.
- Pol. Give first admittance to th' ambassadors.
- My news shall be the fruit to that great feast.
- King. Thyself do grace to them, and bring them in.
- [Exit Polonius.]
- He tells me, my dear Gertrude, he hath found
- The head and source of all your son's distemper.
- Queen. I doubt it is no other but the main,
- His father's death and our o'erhasty marriage.
- King. Well, we shall sift him.
-
- Enter Polonius, Voltemand, and Cornelius.
-
- Welcome, my good friends.
- Say, Voltemand, what from our brother Norway?
- Volt. Most fair return of greetings and desires.
- Upon our first, he sent out to suppress
- His nephew's levies; which to him appear'd
- To be a preparation 'gainst the Polack,
- But better look'd into, he truly found
- It was against your Highness; whereat griev'd,
- That so his sickness, age, and impotence
- Was falsely borne in hand, sends out arrests
- On Fortinbras; which he, in brief, obeys,
- Receives rebuke from Norway, and, in fine,
- Makes vow before his uncle never more
- To give th' assay of arms against your Majesty.
- Whereon old Norway, overcome with joy,
- Gives him three thousand crowns in annual fee
- And his commission to employ those soldiers,
- So levied as before, against the Polack;
- With an entreaty, herein further shown,
- [Gives a paper.]
- That it might please you to give quiet pass
- Through your dominions for this enterprise,
- On such regards of safety and allowance
- As therein are set down.
- King. It likes us well;
- And at our more consider'd time we'll read,
- Answer, and think upon this business.
- Meantime we thank you for your well-took labour.
- Go to your rest; at night we'll feast together.
- Most welcome home! Exeunt Ambassadors.
- Pol. This business is well ended.
- My liege, and madam, to expostulate
- What majesty should be, what duty is,
- Why day is day, night is night, and time is time.
- Were nothing but to waste night, day, and time.
- Therefore, since brevity is the soul of wit,
- And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes,
- I will be brief. Your noble son is mad.
- Mad call I it; for, to define true madness,
- What is't but to be nothing else but mad?
- But let that go.
- Queen. More matter, with less art.
- Pol. Madam, I swear I use no art at all.
- That he is mad, 'tis true: 'tis true 'tis pity;
- And pity 'tis 'tis true. A foolish figure!
- But farewell it, for I will use no art.
- Mad let us grant him then. And now remains
- That we find out the cause of this effect-
- Or rather say, the cause of this defect,
- For this effect defective comes by cause.
- Thus it remains, and the remainder thus.
- Perpend.
- I have a daughter (have while she is mine),
- Who in her duty and obedience, mark,
- Hath given me this. Now gather, and surmise.
- [Reads] the letter.
- 'To the celestial, and my soul's idol, the most beautified
- Ophelia,'-
-
- That's an ill phrase, a vile phrase; 'beautified' is a vile
- phrase.
- But you shall hear. Thus:
- [Reads.]
- 'In her excellent white bosom, these, &c.'
- Queen. Came this from Hamlet to her?
- Pol. Good madam, stay awhile. I will be faithful. [Reads.]
-
- 'Doubt thou the stars are fire;
- Doubt that the sun doth move;
- Doubt truth to be a liar;
- But never doubt I love.
- 'O dear Ophelia, I am ill at these numbers; I have not art to
- reckon my groans; but that I love thee best, O most best, believe
- it. Adieu.
- 'Thine evermore, most dear lady, whilst this machine is to him,
- HAMLET.'
-
- This, in obedience, hath my daughter shown me;
- And more above, hath his solicitings,
- As they fell out by time, by means, and place,
- All given to mine ear.
- King. But how hath she
- Receiv'd his love?
- Pol. What do you think of me?
- King. As of a man faithful and honourable.
- Pol. I would fain prove so. But what might you think,
- When I had seen this hot love on the wing
- (As I perceiv'd it, I must tell you that,
- Before my daughter told me), what might you,
- Or my dear Majesty your queen here, think,
- If I had play'd the desk or table book,
- Or given my heart a winking, mute and dumb,
- Or look'd upon this love with idle sight?
- What might you think? No, I went round to work
- And my young mistress thus I did bespeak:
- 'Lord Hamlet is a prince, out of thy star.
- This must not be.' And then I prescripts gave her,
- That she should lock herself from his resort,
- Admit no messengers, receive no tokens.
- Which done, she took the fruits of my advice,
- And he, repulsed, a short tale to make,
- Fell into a sadness, then into a fast,
- Thence to a watch, thence into a weakness,
- Thence to a lightness, and, by this declension,
- Into the madness wherein now he raves,
- And all we mourn for.
- King. Do you think 'tis this?
- Queen. it may be, very like.
- Pol. Hath there been such a time- I would fain know that-
- That I have Positively said ''Tis so,'
- When it prov'd otherwise.?
- King. Not that I know.
- Pol. [points to his head and shoulder] Take this from this, if this
- be otherwise.
- If circumstances lead me, I will find
- Where truth is hid, though it were hid indeed
- Within the centre.
- King. How may we try it further?
- Pol. You know sometimes he walks four hours together
- Here in the lobby.
- Queen. So he does indeed.
- Pol. At such a time I'll loose my daughter to him.
- Be you and I behind an arras then.
- Mark the encounter. If he love her not,
- And he not from his reason fall'n thereon
- Let me be no assistant for a state,
- But keep a farm and carters.
- King. We will try it.
-
- Enter Hamlet, reading on a book.
-
- Queen. But look where sadly the poor wretch comes reading.
- Pol. Away, I do beseech you, both away
- I'll board him presently. O, give me leave.
- Exeunt King and Queen, [with Attendants].
- How does my good Lord Hamlet?
- Ham. Well, God-a-mercy.
- Pol. Do you know me, my lord?
- Ham. Excellent well. You are a fishmonger.
- Pol. Not I, my lord.
- Ham. Then I would you were so honest a man.
- Pol. Honest, my lord?
- Ham. Ay, sir. To be honest, as this world goes, is to be one man
- pick'd out of ten thousand.
- Pol. That's very true, my lord.
- Ham. For if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog, being a god
- kissing carrion- Have you a daughter?
- Pol. I have, my lord.
- Ham. Let her not walk i' th' sun. Conception is a blessing, but not
- as your daughter may conceive. Friend, look to't.
- Pol. [aside] How say you by that? Still harping on my daughter. Yet
- he knew me not at first. He said I was a fishmonger. He is far
- gone, far gone! And truly in my youth I suff'red much extremity
- for love- very near this. I'll speak to him again.- What do you
- read, my lord?
- Ham. Words, words, words.
- Pol. What is the matter, my lord?
- Ham. Between who?
- Pol. I mean, the matter that you read, my lord.
- Ham. Slanders, sir; for the satirical rogue says here that old men
- have grey beards; that their faces are wrinkled; their eyes
- purging thick amber and plum-tree gum; and that they have a
- plentiful lack of wit, together with most weak hams. All which,
- sir, though I most powerfully and potently believe, yet I hold it
- not honesty to have it thus set down; for you yourself, sir,
- should be old as I am if, like a crab, you could go backward.
- Pol. [aside] Though this be madness, yet there is a method in't.-
- Will You walk out of the air, my lord?
- Ham. Into my grave?
- Pol. Indeed, that is out o' th' air. [Aside] How pregnant sometimes
- his replies are! a happiness that often madness hits on, which
- reason and sanity could not so prosperously be delivered of. I
- will leave him and suddenly contrive the means of meeting between
- him and my daughter.- My honourable lord, I will most humbly take
- my leave of you.
- Ham. You cannot, sir, take from me anything that I will more
- willingly part withal- except my life, except my life, except my
- life,
-
- Enter Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.
-
- Pol. Fare you well, my lord.
- Ham. These tedious old fools!
- Pol. You go to seek the Lord Hamlet. There he is.
- Ros. [to Polonius] God save you, sir!
- Exit [Polonius].
- Guil. My honour'd lord!
- Ros. My most dear lord!
- Ham. My excellent good friends! How dost thou, Guildenstern? Ah,
- Rosencrantz! Good lads, how do ye both?
- Ros. As the indifferent children of the earth.
- Guil. Happy in that we are not over-happy.
- On Fortune's cap we are not the very button.
- Ham. Nor the soles of her shoe?
- Ros. Neither, my lord.
- Ham. Then you live about her waist, or in the middle of her
- favours?
- Guil. Faith, her privates we.
- Ham. In the secret parts of Fortune? O! most true! she is a
- strumpet. What news ?
- Ros. None, my lord, but that the world's grown honest.
- Ham. Then is doomsday near! But your news is not true. Let me
- question more in particular. What have you, my good friends,
- deserved at the hands of Fortune that she sends you to prison
- hither?
- Guil. Prison, my lord?
- Ham. Denmark's a prison.
- Ros. Then is the world one.
- Ham. A goodly one; in which there are many confines, wards, and
- dungeons, Denmark being one o' th' worst.
- Ros. We think not so, my lord.
- Ham. Why, then 'tis none to you; for there is nothing either good
- or bad but thinking makes it so. To me it is a prison.
- Ros. Why, then your ambition makes it one. 'Tis too narrow for your
- mind.
- Ham. O God, I could be bounded in a nutshell and count myself a
- king of infinite space, were it not that I have bad dreams.
- Guil. Which dreams indeed are ambition; for the very substance of
- the ambitious is merely the shadow of a dream.
- Ham. A dream itself is but a shadow.
- Ros. Truly, and I hold ambition of so airy and light a quality that
- it is but a shadow's shadow.
- Ham. Then are our beggars bodies, and our monarchs and outstretch'd
- heroes the beggars' shadows. Shall we to th' court? for, by my
- fay, I cannot reason.
- Both. We'll wait upon you.
- Ham. No such matter! I will not sort you with the rest of my
- servants; for, to speak to you like an honest man, I am most
- dreadfully attended. But in the beaten way of friendship, what
- make you at Elsinore?
- Ros. To visit you, my lord; no other occasion.
- Ham. Beggar that I am, I am even poor in thanks; but I thank you;
- and sure, dear friends, my thanks are too dear a halfpenny. Were
- you not sent for? Is it your own inclining? Is it a free
- visitation? Come, deal justly with me. Come, come! Nay, speak.
- Guil. What should we say, my lord?
- Ham. Why, anything- but to th' purpose. You were sent for; and
- there is a kind of confession in your looks, which your modesties
- have not craft enough to colour. I know the good King and Queen
- have sent for you.
- Ros. To what end, my lord?
- Ham. That you must teach me. But let me conjure you by the rights
- of our fellowship, by the consonancy of our youth, by the
- obligation of our ever-preserved love, and by what more dear a
- better proposer could charge you withal, be even and direct with
- me, whether you were sent for or no.
- Ros. [aside to Guildenstern] What say you?
- Ham. [aside] Nay then, I have an eye of you.- If you love me, hold
- not off.
- Guil. My lord, we were sent for.
- Ham. I will tell you why. So shall my anticipation prevent your
- discovery, and your secrecy to the King and Queen moult no
- feather. I have of late- but wherefore I know not- lost all my
- mirth, forgone all custom of exercises; and indeed, it goes so
- heavily with my disposition that this goodly frame, the earth,
- seems to me a sterile promontory; this most excellent canopy, the
- air, look you, this brave o'erhanging firmament, this majestical
- roof fretted with golden fire- why, it appeareth no other thing
- to me than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours. What a
- piece of work is a man! how noble in reason! how infinite in
- faculties! in form and moving how express and admirable! in
- action how like an angel! in apprehension how like a god! the
- beauty of the world, the paragon of animals! And yet to me what
- is this quintessence of dust? Man delights not me- no, nor woman
- neither, though by your smiling you seem to say so.
- Ros. My lord, there was no such stuff in my thoughts.
- Ham. Why did you laugh then, when I said 'Man delights not me'?
- Ros. To think, my lord, if you delight not in man, what lenten
- entertainment the players shall receive from you. We coted them
- on the way, and hither are they coming to offer you service.
- Ham. He that plays the king shall be welcome- his Majesty shall
- have tribute of me; the adventurous knight shall use his foil and
- target; the lover shall not sigh gratis; the humorous man shall
- end his part in peace; the clown shall make those laugh whose
- lungs are tickle o' th' sere; and the lady shall say her mind
- freely, or the blank verse shall halt fort. What players are
- they?
- Ros. Even those you were wont to take such delight in, the
- tragedians of the city.
- Ham. How chances it they travel? Their residence, both in
- reputation and profit, was better both ways.
- Ros. I think their inhibition comes by the means of the late
- innovation.
- Ham. Do they hold the same estimation they did when I was in the
- city? Are they so follow'd?
- Ros. No indeed are they not.
- Ham. How comes it? Do they grow rusty?
- Ros. Nay, their endeavour keeps in the wonted pace; but there is,
- sir, an eyrie of children, little eyases, that cry out on the top
- of question and are most tyrannically clapp'd fort. These are now
- the fashion, and so berattle the common stages (so they call
- them) that many wearing rapiers are afraid of goosequills and
- dare scarce come thither.
- Ham. What, are they children? Who maintains 'em? How are they
- escoted? Will they pursue the quality no longer than they can
- sing? Will they not say afterwards, if they should grow
- themselves to common players (as it is most like, if their means
- are no better), their writers do them wrong to make them exclaim
- against their own succession.
- Ros. Faith, there has been much to do on both sides; and the nation
- holds it no sin to tarre them to controversy. There was, for a
- while, no money bid for argument unless the poet and the player
- went to cuffs in the question.
- Ham. Is't possible?
- Guil. O, there has been much throwing about of brains.
- Ham. Do the boys carry it away?
- Ros. Ay, that they do, my lord- Hercules and his load too.
- Ham. It is not very strange; for my uncle is King of Denmark, and
- those that would make mows at him while my father lived give
- twenty, forty, fifty, a hundred ducats apiece for his picture in
- little. 'Sblood, there is something in this more than natural, if
- philosophy could find it out.
-
- Flourish for the Players.
-
- Guil. There are the players.
- Ham. Gentlemen, you are welcome to Elsinore. Your hands, come! Th'
- appurtenance of welcome is fashion and ceremony. Let me comply
- with you in this garb, lest my extent to the players (which I
- tell you must show fairly outwards) should more appear like
- entertainment than yours. You are welcome. But my uncle-father
- and aunt-mother are deceiv'd.
- Guil. In what, my dear lord?
- Ham. I am but mad north-north-west. When the wind is southerly I
- know a hawk from a handsaw.
-
- Enter Polonius.
-
- Pol. Well be with you, gentlemen!
- Ham. Hark you, Guildenstern- and you too- at each ear a hearer!
- That great baby you see there is not yet out of his swaddling
- clouts.
- Ros. Happily he's the second time come to them; for they say an old
- man is twice a child.
- Ham. I will prophesy he comes to tell me of the players. Mark it.-
- You say right, sir; a Monday morning; twas so indeed.
- Pol. My lord, I have news to tell you.
- Ham. My lord, I have news to tell you. When Roscius was an actor in
- Rome-
- Pol. The actors are come hither, my lord.
- Ham. Buzz, buzz!
- Pol. Upon my honour-
- Ham. Then came each actor on his ass-
- Pol. The best actors in the world, either for tragedy, comedy,
- history, pastoral, pastoral-comical, historical-pastoral,
- tragical-historical, tragical-comical-historical-pastoral; scene
- individable, or poem unlimited. Seneca cannot be too heavy, nor
- Plautus too light. For the law of writ and the liberty, these are
- the only men.
- Ham. O Jephthah, judge of Israel, what a treasure hadst thou!
- Pol. What treasure had he, my lord?
- Ham. Why,
-
- 'One fair daughter, and no more,
- The which he loved passing well.'
-
- Pol. [aside] Still on my daughter.
- Ham. Am I not i' th' right, old Jephthah?
- Pol. If you call me Jephthah, my lord, I have a daughter that I
- love passing well.
- Ham. Nay, that follows not.
- Pol. What follows then, my lord?
- Ham. Why,
-
- 'As by lot, God wot,'
-
- and then, you know,
-
- 'It came to pass, as most like it was.'
-
- The first row of the pious chanson will show you more; for look
- where my abridgment comes.
-
- Enter four or five Players.
-
- You are welcome, masters; welcome, all.- I am glad to see thee
- well.- Welcome, good friends.- O, my old friend? Why, thy face is
- valanc'd since I saw thee last. Com'st' thou to' beard me in
- Denmark?- What, my young lady and mistress? By'r Lady, your
- ladyship is nearer to heaven than when I saw you last by the
- altitude of a chopine. Pray God your voice, like a piece of
- uncurrent gold, be not crack'd within the ring.- Masters, you are
- all welcome. We'll e'en to't like French falconers, fly at
- anything we see. We'll have a speech straight. Come, give us a
- taste of your quality. Come, a passionate speech.
- 1. Play. What speech, my good lord?
- Ham. I heard thee speak me a speech once, but it was never acted;
- or if it was, not above once; for the play, I remember, pleas'd
- not the million, 'twas caviary to the general; but it was (as I
- receiv'd it, and others, whose judgments in such matters cried in
- the top of mine) an excellent play, well digested in the scenes,
- set down with as much modesty as cunning. I remember one said
- there were no sallets in the lines to make the matter savoury,
- nor no matter in the phrase that might indict the author of
- affectation; but call'd it an honest method, as wholesome as
- sweet, and by very much more handsome than fine. One speech in't
- I chiefly lov'd. 'Twas AEneas' tale to Dido, and thereabout of it
- especially where he speaks of Priam's slaughter. If it live in
- your memory, begin at this line- let me see, let me see:
-
- 'The rugged Pyrrhus, like th' Hyrcanian beast-'
-
- 'Tis not so; it begins with Pyrrhus:
-
- 'The rugged Pyrrhus, he whose sable arms,
- Black as his purpose, did the night resemble
- When he lay couched in the ominous horse,
- Hath now this dread and black complexion smear'd
- With heraldry more dismal. Head to foot
- Now is be total gules, horridly trick'd
- With blood of fathers, mothers, daughters, sons,
- Bak'd and impasted with the parching streets,
- That lend a tyrannous and a damned light
- To their lord's murther. Roasted in wrath and fire,
- And thus o'ersized with coagulate gore,
- With eyes like carbuncles, the hellish Pyrrhus
- Old grandsire Priam seeks.'
-
- So, proceed you.
- Pol. Fore God, my lord, well spoken, with good accent and good
- discretion.
-
- 1. Play. 'Anon he finds him,
- Striking too short at Greeks. His antique sword,
- Rebellious to his arm, lies where it falls,
- Repugnant to command. Unequal match'd,
- Pyrrhus at Priam drives, in rage strikes wide;
- But with the whiff and wind of his fell sword
- Th' unnerved father falls. Then senseless Ilium,
- Seeming to feel this blow, with flaming top
- Stoops to his base, and with a hideous crash
- Takes prisoner Pyrrhus' ear. For lo! his sword,
- Which was declining on the milky head
- Of reverend Priam, seem'd i' th' air to stick.
- So, as a painted tyrant, Pyrrhus stood,
- And, like a neutral to his will and matter,
- Did nothing.
- But, as we often see, against some storm,
- A silence in the heavens, the rack stand still,
- The bold winds speechless, and the orb below
- As hush as death- anon the dreadful thunder
- Doth rend the region; so, after Pyrrhus' pause,
- Aroused vengeance sets him new awork;
- And never did the Cyclops' hammers fall
- On Mars's armour, forg'd for proof eterne,
- With less remorse than Pyrrhus' bleeding sword
- Now falls on Priam.
- Out, out, thou strumpet Fortune! All you gods,
- In general synod take away her power;
- Break all the spokes and fellies from her wheel,
- And bowl the round nave down the hill of heaven,
- As low as to the fiends!
-
- Pol. This is too long.
- Ham. It shall to the barber's, with your beard.- Prithee say on.
- He's for a jig or a tale of bawdry, or he sleeps. Say on; come to
- Hecuba.
-
- 1. Play. 'But who, O who, had seen the mobled queen-'
-
- Ham. 'The mobled queen'?
- Pol. That's good! 'Mobled queen' is good.
-
- 1. Play. 'Run barefoot up and down, threat'ning the flames
- With bisson rheum; a clout upon that head
- Where late the diadem stood, and for a robe,
- About her lank and all o'erteemed loins,
- A blanket, in the alarm of fear caught up-
- Who this had seen, with tongue in venom steep'd
- 'Gainst Fortune's state would treason have pronounc'd.
- But if the gods themselves did see her then,
- When she saw Pyrrhus make malicious sport
- In Mincing with his sword her husband's limbs,
- The instant burst of clamour that she made
- (Unless things mortal move them not at all)
- Would have made milch the burning eyes of heaven
- And passion in the gods.'
-
- Pol. Look, whe'r he has not turn'd his colour, and has tears in's
- eyes. Prithee no more!
- Ham. 'Tis well. I'll have thee speak out the rest of this soon.-
- Good my lord, will you see the players well bestow'd? Do you
- hear? Let them be well us'd; for they are the abstract and brief
- chronicles of the time. After your death you were better have a
- bad epitaph than their ill report while you live.
- Pol. My lord, I will use them according to their desert.
- Ham. God's bodykins, man, much better! Use every man after his
- desert, and who should scape whipping? Use them after your own
- honour and dignity. The less they deserve, the more merit is in
- your bounty. Take them in.
- Pol. Come, sirs.
- Ham. Follow him, friends. We'll hear a play to-morrow.
- Exeunt Polonius and Players [except the First].
- Dost thou hear me, old friend? Can you play 'The Murther of
- Gonzago'?
- 1. Play. Ay, my lord.
- Ham. We'll ha't to-morrow night. You could, for a need, study a
- speech of some dozen or sixteen lines which I would set down and
- insert in't, could you not?
- 1. Play. Ay, my lord.
- Ham. Very well. Follow that lord- and look you mock him not.
- [Exit First Player.]
- My good friends, I'll leave you till night. You are welcome to
- Elsinore.
- Ros. Good my lord!
- Ham. Ay, so, God b' wi' ye!
- [Exeunt Rosencrantz and Guildenstern
- Now I am alone.
- O what a rogue and peasant slave am I!
- Is it not monstrous that this player here,
- But in a fiction, in a dream of passion,
- Could force his soul so to his own conceit
- That, from her working, all his visage wann'd,
- Tears in his eyes, distraction in's aspect,
- A broken voice, and his whole function suiting
- With forms to his conceit? And all for nothing!
- For Hecuba!
- What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba,
- That he should weep for her? What would he do,
- Had he the motive and the cue for passion
- That I have? He would drown the stage with tears
- And cleave the general ear with horrid speech;
- Make mad the guilty and appal the free,
- Confound the ignorant, and amaze indeed
- The very faculties of eyes and ears.
- Yet I,
- A dull and muddy-mettled rascal, peak
- Like John-a-dreams, unpregnant of my cause,
- And can say nothing! No, not for a king,
- Upon whose property and most dear life
- A damn'd defeat was made. Am I a coward?
- Who calls me villain? breaks my pate across?
- Plucks off my beard and blows it in my face?
- Tweaks me by th' nose? gives me the lie i' th' throat
- As deep as to the lungs? Who does me this, ha?
- 'Swounds, I should take it! for it cannot be
- But I am pigeon-liver'd and lack gall
- To make oppression bitter, or ere this
- I should have fatted all the region kites
- With this slave's offal. Bloody bawdy villain!
- Remorseless, treacherous, lecherous, kindless villain!
- O, vengeance!
- Why, what an ass am I! This is most brave,
- That I, the son of a dear father murther'd,
- Prompted to my revenge by heaven and hell,
- Must (like a whore) unpack my heart with words
- And fall a-cursing like a very drab,
- A scullion!
- Fie upon't! foh! About, my brain! Hum, I have heard
- That guilty creatures, sitting at a play,
- Have by the very cunning of the scene
- Been struck so to the soul that presently
- They have proclaim'd their malefactions;
- For murther, though it have no tongue, will speak
- With most miraculous organ, I'll have these Players
- Play something like the murther of my father
- Before mine uncle. I'll observe his looks;
- I'll tent him to the quick. If he but blench,
- I know my course. The spirit that I have seen
- May be a devil; and the devil hath power
- T' assume a pleasing shape; yea, and perhaps
- Out of my weakness and my melancholy,
- As he is very potent with such spirits,
- Abuses me to damn me. I'll have grounds
- More relative than this. The play's the thing
- Wherein I'll catch the conscience of the King. Exit.
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT III. Scene I.
-Elsinore. A room in the Castle.
-
-Enter King, Queen, Polonius, Ophelia, Rosencrantz, Guildenstern, and Lords.
-
- King. And can you by no drift of circumstance
- Get from him why he puts on this confusion,
- Grating so harshly all his days of quiet
- With turbulent and dangerous lunacy?
- Ros. He does confess he feels himself distracted,
- But from what cause he will by no means speak.
- Guil. Nor do we find him forward to be sounded,
- But with a crafty madness keeps aloof
- When we would bring him on to some confession
- Of his true state.
- Queen. Did he receive you well?
- Ros. Most like a gentleman.
- Guil. But with much forcing of his disposition.
- Ros. Niggard of question, but of our demands
- Most free in his reply.
- Queen. Did you assay him
- To any pastime?
- Ros. Madam, it so fell out that certain players
- We o'erraught on the way. Of these we told him,
- And there did seem in him a kind of joy
- To hear of it. They are here about the court,
- And, as I think, they have already order
- This night to play before him.
- Pol. 'Tis most true;
- And he beseech'd me to entreat your Majesties
- To hear and see the matter.
- King. With all my heart, and it doth much content me
- To hear him so inclin'd.
- Good gentlemen, give him a further edge
- And drive his purpose on to these delights.
- Ros. We shall, my lord.
- Exeunt Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.
- King. Sweet Gertrude, leave us too;
- For we have closely sent for Hamlet hither,
- That he, as 'twere by accident, may here
- Affront Ophelia.
- Her father and myself (lawful espials)
- Will so bestow ourselves that, seeing unseen,
- We may of their encounter frankly judge
- And gather by him, as he is behav'd,
- If't be th' affliction of his love, or no,
- That thus he suffers for.
- Queen. I shall obey you;
- And for your part, Ophelia, I do wish
- That your good beauties be the happy cause
- Of Hamlet's wildness. So shall I hope your virtues
- Will bring him to his wonted way again,
- To both your honours.
- Oph. Madam, I wish it may.
- [Exit Queen.]
- Pol. Ophelia, walk you here.- Gracious, so please you,
- We will bestow ourselves.- [To Ophelia] Read on this book,
- That show of such an exercise may colour
- Your loneliness.- We are oft to blame in this,
- 'Tis too much prov'd, that with devotion's visage
- And pious action we do sugar o'er
- The Devil himself.
- King. [aside] O, 'tis too true!
- How smart a lash that speech doth give my conscience!
- The harlot's cheek, beautied with plast'ring art,
- Is not more ugly to the thing that helps it
- Than is my deed to my most painted word.
- O heavy burthen!
- Pol. I hear him coming. Let's withdraw, my lord.
- Exeunt King and Polonius].
-
- Enter Hamlet.
-
- Ham. To be, or not to be- that is the question:
- Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
- The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune
- Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
- And by opposing end them. To die- to sleep-
- No more; and by a sleep to say we end
- The heartache, and the thousand natural shocks
- That flesh is heir to. 'Tis a consummation
- Devoutly to be wish'd. To die- to sleep.
- To sleep- perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub!
- For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
- When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
- Must give us pause. There's the respect
- That makes calamity of so long life.
- For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
- Th' oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
- The pangs of despis'd love, the law's delay,
- The insolence of office, and the spurns
- That patient merit of th' unworthy takes,
- When he himself might his quietus make
- With a bare bodkin? Who would these fardels bear,
- To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
- But that the dread of something after death-
- The undiscover'd country, from whose bourn
- No traveller returns- puzzles the will,
- And makes us rather bear those ills we have
- Than fly to others that we know not of?
- Thus conscience does make cowards of us all,
- And thus the native hue of resolution
- Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
- And enterprises of great pith and moment
- With this regard their currents turn awry
- And lose the name of action.- Soft you now!
- The fair Ophelia!- Nymph, in thy orisons
- Be all my sins rememb'red.
- Oph. Good my lord,
- How does your honour for this many a day?
- Ham. I humbly thank you; well, well, well.
- Oph. My lord, I have remembrances of yours
- That I have longed long to re-deliver.
- I pray you, now receive them.
- Ham. No, not I!
- I never gave you aught.
- Oph. My honour'd lord, you know right well you did,
- And with them words of so sweet breath compos'd
- As made the things more rich. Their perfume lost,
- Take these again; for to the noble mind
- Rich gifts wax poor when givers prove unkind.
- There, my lord.
- Ham. Ha, ha! Are you honest?
- Oph. My lord?
- Ham. Are you fair?
- Oph. What means your lordship?
- Ham. That if you be honest and fair, your honesty should admit no
- discourse to your beauty.
- Oph. Could beauty, my lord, have better commerce than with honesty?
- Ham. Ay, truly; for the power of beauty will sooner transform
- honesty from what it is to a bawd than the force of honesty can
- translate beauty into his likeness. This was sometime a paradox,
- but now the time gives it proof. I did love you once.
- Oph. Indeed, my lord, you made me believe so.
- Ham. You should not have believ'd me; for virtue cannot so
- inoculate our old stock but we shall relish of it. I loved you
- not.
- Oph. I was the more deceived.
- Ham. Get thee to a nunnery! Why wouldst thou be a breeder of
- sinners? I am myself indifferent honest, but yet I could accuse
- me of such things that it were better my mother had not borne me.
- I am very proud, revengeful, ambitious; with more offences at my
- beck than I have thoughts to put them in, imagination to give
- them shape, or time to act them in. What should such fellows as I
- do, crawling between earth and heaven? We are arrant knaves all;
- believe none of us. Go thy ways to a nunnery. Where's your
- father?
- Oph. At home, my lord.
- Ham. Let the doors be shut upon him, that he may play the fool
- nowhere but in's own house. Farewell.
- Oph. O, help him, you sweet heavens!
- Ham. If thou dost marry, I'll give thee this plague for thy dowry:
- be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, thou shalt not escape
- calumny. Get thee to a nunnery. Go, farewell. Or if thou wilt
- needs marry, marry a fool; for wise men know well enough what
- monsters you make of them. To a nunnery, go; and quickly too.
- Farewell.
- Oph. O heavenly powers, restore him!
- Ham. I have heard of your paintings too, well enough. God hath
- given you one face, and you make yourselves another. You jig, you
- amble, and you lisp; you nickname God's creatures and make your
- wantonness your ignorance. Go to, I'll no more on't! it hath made
- me mad. I say, we will have no moe marriages. Those that are
- married already- all but one- shall live; the rest shall keep as
- they are. To a nunnery, go. Exit.
- Oph. O, what a noble mind is here o'erthrown!
- The courtier's, scholar's, soldier's, eye, tongue, sword,
- Th' expectancy and rose of the fair state,
- The glass of fashion and the mould of form,
- Th' observ'd of all observers- quite, quite down!
- And I, of ladies most deject and wretched,
- That suck'd the honey of his music vows,
- Now see that noble and most sovereign reason,
- Like sweet bells jangled, out of tune and harsh;
- That unmatch'd form and feature of blown youth
- Blasted with ecstasy. O, woe is me
- T' have seen what I have seen, see what I see!
-
- Enter King and Polonius.
-
- King. Love? his affections do not that way tend;
- Nor what he spake, though it lack'd form a little,
- Was not like madness. There's something in his soul
- O'er which his melancholy sits on brood;
- And I do doubt the hatch and the disclose
- Will be some danger; which for to prevent,
- I have in quick determination
- Thus set it down: he shall with speed to England
- For the demand of our neglected tribute.
- Haply the seas, and countries different,
- With variable objects, shall expel
- This something-settled matter in his heart,
- Whereon his brains still beating puts him thus
- From fashion of himself. What think you on't?
- Pol. It shall do well. But yet do I believe
- The origin and commencement of his grief
- Sprung from neglected love.- How now, Ophelia?
- You need not tell us what Lord Hamlet said.
- We heard it all.- My lord, do as you please;
- But if you hold it fit, after the play
- Let his queen mother all alone entreat him
- To show his grief. Let her be round with him;
- And I'll be plac'd so please you, in the ear
- Of all their conference. If she find him not,
- To England send him; or confine him where
- Your wisdom best shall think.
- King. It shall be so.
- Madness in great ones must not unwatch'd go. Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-Scene II.
-Elsinore. hall in the Castle.
-
-Enter Hamlet and three of the Players.
-
- Ham. Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounc'd it to you,
- trippingly on the tongue. But if you mouth it, as many of our
- players do, I had as live the town crier spoke my lines. Nor do
- not saw the air too much with your hand, thus, but use all
- gently; for in the very torrent, tempest, and (as I may say)
- whirlwind of your passion, you must acquire and beget a
- temperance that may give it smoothness. O, it offends me to the
- soul to hear a robustious periwig-pated fellow tear a passion to
- tatters, to very rags, to split the cars of the groundlings, who
- (for the most part) are capable of nothing but inexplicable dumb
- shows and noise. I would have such a fellow whipp'd for o'erdoing
- Termagant. It out-herods Herod. Pray you avoid it.
- Player. I warrant your honour.
- Ham. Be not too tame neither; but let your own discretion be your
- tutor. Suit the action to the word, the word to the action; with
- this special observance, that you o'erstep not the modesty of
- nature: for anything so overdone is from the purpose of playing,
- whose end, both at the first and now, was and is, to hold, as
- 'twere, the mirror up to nature; to show Virtue her own feature,
- scorn her own image, and the very age and body of the time his
- form and pressure. Now this overdone, or come tardy off, though
- it make the unskilful laugh, cannot but make the judicious
- grieve; the censure of the which one must in your allowance
- o'erweigh a whole theatre of others. O, there be players that I
- have seen play, and heard others praise, and that highly (not to
- speak it profanely), that, neither having the accent of
- Christians, nor the gait of Christian, pagan, nor man, have so
- strutted and bellowed that I have thought some of Nature's
- journeymen had made men, and not made them well, they imitated
- humanity so abominably.
- Player. I hope we have reform'd that indifferently with us, sir.
- Ham. O, reform it altogether! And let those that play your clowns
- speak no more than is set down for them. For there be of them
- that will themselves laugh, to set on some quantity of barren
- spectators to laugh too, though in the mean time some necessary
- question of the play be then to be considered. That's villanous
- and shows a most pitiful ambition in the fool that uses it. Go
- make you ready.
- Exeunt Players.
-
- Enter Polonius, Rosencrantz, and Guildenstern.
-
- How now, my lord? Will the King hear this piece of work?
- Pol. And the Queen too, and that presently.
- Ham. Bid the players make haste, [Exit Polonius.] Will you two
- help to hasten them?
- Both. We will, my lord. Exeunt they two.
- Ham. What, ho, Horatio!
-
- Enter Horatio.
-
- Hor. Here, sweet lord, at your service.
- Ham. Horatio, thou art e'en as just a man
- As e'er my conversation cop'd withal.
- Hor. O, my dear lord!
- Ham. Nay, do not think I flatter;
- For what advancement may I hope from thee,
- That no revenue hast but thy good spirits
- To feed and clothe thee? Why should the poor be flatter'd?
- No, let the candied tongue lick absurd pomp,
- And crook the pregnant hinges of the knee
- Where thrift may follow fawning. Dost thou hear?
- Since my dear soul was mistress of her choice
- And could of men distinguish, her election
- Hath scald thee for herself. For thou hast been
- As one, in suff'ring all, that suffers nothing;
- A man that Fortune's buffets and rewards
- Hast ta'en with equal thanks; and blest are those
- Whose blood and judgment are so well commingled
- That they are not a pipe for Fortune's finger
- To sound what stop she please. Give me that man
- That is not passion's slave, and I will wear him
- In my heart's core, ay, in my heart of heart,
- As I do thee. Something too much of this I
- There is a play to-night before the King.
- One scene of it comes near the circumstance,
- Which I have told thee, of my father's death.
- I prithee, when thou seest that act afoot,
- Even with the very comment of thy soul
- Observe my uncle. If his occulted guilt
- Do not itself unkennel in one speech,
- It is a damned ghost that we have seen,
- And my imaginations are as foul
- As Vulcan's stithy. Give him heedful note;
- For I mine eyes will rivet to his face,
- And after we will both our judgments join
- In censure of his seeming.
- Hor. Well, my lord.
- If he steal aught the whilst this play is playing,
- And scape detecting, I will pay the theft.
-
- Sound a flourish. [Enter Trumpets and Kettledrums. Danish
- march. [Enter King, Queen, Polonius, Ophelia, Rosencrantz,
- Guildenstern, and other Lords attendant, with the Guard
- carrying torches.
-
- Ham. They are coming to the play. I must be idle.
- Get you a place.
- King. How fares our cousin Hamlet?
- Ham. Excellent, i' faith; of the chameleon's dish. I eat the air,
- promise-cramm'd. You cannot feed capons so.
- King. I have nothing with this answer, Hamlet. These words are not
- mine.
- Ham. No, nor mine now. [To Polonius] My lord, you play'd once
- i' th' university, you say?
- Pol. That did I, my lord, and was accounted a good actor.
- Ham. What did you enact?
- Pol. I did enact Julius Caesar; I was kill'd i' th' Capitol; Brutus
- kill'd me.
- Ham. It was a brute part of him to kill so capital a calf there. Be
- the players ready.
- Ros. Ay, my lord. They stay upon your patience.
- Queen. Come hither, my dear Hamlet, sit by me.
- Ham. No, good mother. Here's metal more attractive.
- Pol. [to the King] O, ho! do you mark that?
- Ham. Lady, shall I lie in your lap?
- [Sits down at Ophelia's feet.]
- Oph. No, my lord.
- Ham. I mean, my head upon your lap?
- Oph. Ay, my lord.
- Ham. Do you think I meant country matters?
- Oph. I think nothing, my lord.
- Ham. That's a fair thought to lie between maids' legs.
- Oph. What is, my lord?
- Ham. Nothing.
- Oph. You are merry, my lord.
- Ham. Who, I?
- Oph. Ay, my lord.
- Ham. O God, your only jig-maker! What should a man do but be merry?
- For look you how cheerfully my mother looks, and my father died
- within 's two hours.
- Oph. Nay 'tis twice two months, my lord.
- Ham. So long? Nay then, let the devil wear black, for I'll have a
- suit of sables. O heavens! die two months ago, and not forgotten
- yet? Then there's hope a great man's memory may outlive his life
- half a year. But, by'r Lady, he must build churches then; or else
- shall he suffer not thinking on, with the hobby-horse, whose
- epitaph is 'For O, for O, the hobby-horse is forgot!'
-
- Hautboys play. The dumb show enters.
-
- Enter a King and a Queen very lovingly; the Queen embracing
- him and he her. She kneels, and makes show of protestation
- unto him. He takes her up, and declines his head upon her
- neck. He lays him down upon a bank of flowers. She, seeing
- him asleep, leaves him. Anon comes in a fellow, takes off his
- crown, kisses it, pours poison in the sleeper's ears, and
- leaves him. The Queen returns, finds the King dead, and makes
- passionate action. The Poisoner with some three or four Mutes,
- comes in again, seem to condole with her. The dead body is
- carried away. The Poisoner wooes the Queen with gifts; she
- seems harsh and unwilling awhile, but in the end accepts
- his love.
- Exeunt.
-
- Oph. What means this, my lord?
- Ham. Marry, this is miching malhecho; it means mischief.
- Oph. Belike this show imports the argument of the play.
-
- Enter Prologue.
-
- Ham. We shall know by this fellow. The players cannot keep counsel;
- they'll tell all.
- Oph. Will he tell us what this show meant?
- Ham. Ay, or any show that you'll show him. Be not you asham'd to
- show, he'll not shame to tell you what it means.
- Oph. You are naught, you are naught! I'll mark the play.
-
- Pro. For us, and for our tragedy,
- Here stooping to your clemency,
- We beg your hearing patiently. [Exit.]
-
- Ham. Is this a prologue, or the posy of a ring?
- Oph. 'Tis brief, my lord.
- Ham. As woman's love.
-
- Enter [two Players as] King and Queen.
-
- King. Full thirty times hath Phoebus' cart gone round
- Neptune's salt wash and Tellus' orbed ground,
- And thirty dozed moons with borrowed sheen
- About the world have times twelve thirties been,
- Since love our hearts, and Hymen did our hands,
- Unite comutual in most sacred bands.
- Queen. So many journeys may the sun and moon
- Make us again count o'er ere love be done!
- But woe is me! you are so sick of late,
- So far from cheer and from your former state.
- That I distrust you. Yet, though I distrust,
- Discomfort you, my lord, it nothing must;
- For women's fear and love holds quantity,
- In neither aught, or in extremity.
- Now what my love is, proof hath made you know;
- And as my love is siz'd, my fear is so.
- Where love is great, the littlest doubts are fear;
- Where little fears grow great, great love grows there.
- King. Faith, I must leave thee, love, and shortly too;
- My operant powers their functions leave to do.
- And thou shalt live in this fair world behind,
- Honour'd, belov'd, and haply one as kind
- For husband shalt thou-
- Queen. O, confound the rest!
- Such love must needs be treason in my breast.
- When second husband let me be accurst!
- None wed the second but who killed the first.
-
- Ham. [aside] Wormwood, wormwood!
-
- Queen. The instances that second marriage move
- Are base respects of thrift, but none of love.
- A second time I kill my husband dead
- When second husband kisses me in bed.
- King. I do believe you think what now you speak;
- But what we do determine oft we break.
- Purpose is but the slave to memory,
- Of violent birth, but poor validity;
- Which now, like fruit unripe, sticks on the tree,
- But fill unshaken when they mellow be.
- Most necessary 'tis that we forget
- To pay ourselves what to ourselves is debt.
- What to ourselves in passion we propose,
- The passion ending, doth the purpose lose.
- The violence of either grief or joy
- Their own enactures with themselves destroy.
- Where joy most revels, grief doth most lament;
- Grief joys, joy grieves, on slender accident.
- This world is not for aye, nor 'tis not strange
- That even our loves should with our fortunes change;
- For 'tis a question left us yet to prove,
- Whether love lead fortune, or else fortune love.
- The great man down, you mark his favourite flies,
- The poor advanc'd makes friends of enemies;
- And hitherto doth love on fortune tend,
- For who not needs shall never lack a friend,
- And who in want a hollow friend doth try,
- Directly seasons him his enemy.
- But, orderly to end where I begun,
- Our wills and fates do so contrary run
- That our devices still are overthrown;
- Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own.
- So think thou wilt no second husband wed;
- But die thy thoughts when thy first lord is dead.
- Queen. Nor earth to me give food, nor heaven light,
- Sport and repose lock from me day and night,
- To desperation turn my trust and hope,
- An anchor's cheer in prison be my scope,
- Each opposite that blanks the face of joy
- Meet what I would have well, and it destroy,
- Both here and hence pursue me lasting strife,
- If, once a widow, ever I be wife!
-
- Ham. If she should break it now!
-
- King. 'Tis deeply sworn. Sweet, leave me here awhile.
- My spirits grow dull, and fain I would beguile
- The tedious day with sleep.
- Queen. Sleep rock thy brain,
- [He] sleeps.
- And never come mischance between us twain!
-Exit.
-
- Ham. Madam, how like you this play?
- Queen. The lady doth protest too much, methinks.
- Ham. O, but she'll keep her word.
- King. Have you heard the argument? Is there no offence in't?
- Ham. No, no! They do but jest, poison in jest; no offence i' th'
- world.
- King. What do you call the play?
- Ham. 'The Mousetrap.' Marry, how? Tropically. This play is the
- image of a murther done in Vienna. Gonzago is the duke's name;
- his wife, Baptista. You shall see anon. 'Tis a knavish piece of
- work; but what o' that? Your Majesty, and we that have free
- souls, it touches us not. Let the gall'd jade winch; our withers
- are unwrung.
-
- Enter Lucianus.
-
- This is one Lucianus, nephew to the King.
- Oph. You are as good as a chorus, my lord.
- Ham. I could interpret between you and your love, if I could see
- the puppets dallying.
- Oph. You are keen, my lord, you are keen.
- Ham. It would cost you a groaning to take off my edge.
- Oph. Still better, and worse.
- Ham. So you must take your husbands.- Begin, murtherer. Pox, leave
- thy damnable faces, and begin! Come, the croaking raven doth
- bellow for revenge.
-
- Luc. Thoughts black, hands apt, drugs fit, and time agreeing;
- Confederate season, else no creature seeing;
- Thou mixture rank, of midnight weeds collected,
- With Hecate's ban thrice blasted, thrice infected,
- Thy natural magic and dire property
- On wholesome life usurp immediately.
- Pours the poison in his ears.
-
- Ham. He poisons him i' th' garden for's estate. His name's Gonzago.
- The story is extant, and written in very choice Italian. You
- shall see anon how the murtherer gets the love of Gonzago's wife.
- Oph. The King rises.
- Ham. What, frighted with false fire?
- Queen. How fares my lord?
- Pol. Give o'er the play.
- King. Give me some light! Away!
- All. Lights, lights, lights!
- Exeunt all but Hamlet and Horatio.
- Ham. Why, let the strucken deer go weep,
- The hart ungalled play;
- For some must watch, while some must sleep:
- Thus runs the world away.
- Would not this, sir, and a forest of feathers- if the rest of my
- fortunes turn Turk with me-with two Provincial roses on my raz'd
- shoes, get me a fellowship in a cry of players, sir?
- Hor. Half a share.
- Ham. A whole one I!
- For thou dost know, O Damon dear,
- This realm dismantled was
- Of Jove himself; and now reigns here
- A very, very- pajock.
- Hor. You might have rhym'd.
- Ham. O good Horatio, I'll take the ghost's word for a thousand
- pound! Didst perceive?
- Hor. Very well, my lord.
- Ham. Upon the talk of the poisoning?
- Hor. I did very well note him.
- Ham. Aha! Come, some music! Come, the recorders!
- For if the King like not the comedy,
- Why then, belike he likes it not, perdy.
- Come, some music!
-
- Enter Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.
-
- Guil. Good my lord, vouchsafe me a word with you.
- Ham. Sir, a whole history.
- Guil. The King, sir-
- Ham. Ay, sir, what of him?
- Guil. Is in his retirement, marvellous distemper'd.
- Ham. With drink, sir?
- Guil. No, my lord; rather with choler.
- Ham. Your wisdom should show itself more richer to signify this to
- the doctor; for me to put him to his purgation would perhaps
- plunge him into far more choler.
- Guil. Good my lord, put your discourse into some frame, and start
- not so wildly from my affair.
- Ham. I am tame, sir; pronounce.
- Guil. The Queen, your mother, in most great affliction of spirit
- hath sent me to you.
- Ham. You are welcome.
- Guil. Nay, good my lord, this courtesy is not of the right breed.
- If it shall please you to make me a wholesome answer, I will do
- your mother's commandment; if not, your pardon and my return
- shall be the end of my business.
- Ham. Sir, I cannot.
- Guil. What, my lord?
- Ham. Make you a wholesome answer; my wit's diseas'd. But, sir, such
- answer is I can make, you shall command; or rather, as you say,
- my mother. Therefore no more, but to the matter! My mother, you
- say-
- Ros. Then thus she says: your behaviour hath struck her into
- amazement and admiration.
- Ham. O wonderful son, that can so stonish a mother! But is there no
- sequel at the heels of this mother's admiration? Impart.
- Ros. She desires to speak with you in her closet ere you go to bed.
- Ham. We shall obey, were she ten times our mother. Have you any
- further trade with us?
- Ros. My lord, you once did love me.
- Ham. And do still, by these pickers and stealers!
- Ros. Good my lord, what is your cause of distemper? You do surely
- bar the door upon your own liberty, if you deny your griefs to
- your friend.
- Ham. Sir, I lack advancement.
- Ros. How can that be, when you have the voice of the King himself
- for your succession in Denmark?
- Ham. Ay, sir, but 'while the grass grows'- the proverb is something
- musty.
-
- Enter the Players with recorders.
-
- O, the recorders! Let me see one. To withdraw with you- why do
- you go about to recover the wind of me, as if you would drive me
- into a toil?
- Guil. O my lord, if my duty be too bold, my love is too unmannerly.
- Ham. I do not well understand that. Will you play upon this pipe?
- Guil. My lord, I cannot.
- Ham. I pray you.
- Guil. Believe me, I cannot.
- Ham. I do beseech you.
- Guil. I know, no touch of it, my lord.
- Ham. It is as easy as lying. Govern these ventages with your
- fingers and thumbs, give it breath with your mouth, and it will
- discourse most eloquent music. Look you, these are the stops.
- Guil. But these cannot I command to any utt'rance of harmony. I
- have not the skill.
- Ham. Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing you make of me! You
- would play upon me; you would seem to know my stops; you would
- pluck out the heart of my mystery; you would sound me from my
- lowest note to the top of my compass; and there is much music,
- excellent voice, in this little organ, yet cannot you make it
- speak. 'Sblood, do you think I am easier to be play'd on than a
- pipe? Call me what instrument you will, though you can fret me,
- you cannot play upon me.
-
- Enter Polonius.
-
- God bless you, sir!
- Pol. My lord, the Queen would speak with you, and presently.
- Ham. Do you see yonder cloud that's almost in shape of a camel?
- Pol. By th' mass, and 'tis like a camel indeed.
- Ham. Methinks it is like a weasel.
- Pol. It is back'd like a weasel.
- Ham. Or like a whale.
- Pol. Very like a whale.
- Ham. Then will I come to my mother by-and-by.- They fool me to the
- top of my bent.- I will come by-and-by.
- Pol. I will say so. Exit.
- Ham. 'By-and-by' is easily said.- Leave me, friends.
- [Exeunt all but Hamlet.]
- 'Tis now the very witching time of night,
- When churchyards yawn, and hell itself breathes out
- Contagion to this world. Now could I drink hot blood
- And do such bitter business as the day
- Would quake to look on. Soft! now to my mother!
- O heart, lose not thy nature; let not ever
- The soul of Nero enter this firm bosom.
- Let me be cruel, not unnatural;
- I will speak daggers to her, but use none.
- My tongue and soul in this be hypocrites-
- How in my words somever she be shent,
- To give them seals never, my soul, consent! Exit.
-
-
-
-
-Scene III.
-A room in the Castle.
-
-Enter King, Rosencrantz, and Guildenstern.
-
- King. I like him not, nor stands it safe with us
- To let his madness range. Therefore prepare you;
- I your commission will forthwith dispatch,
- And he to England shall along with you.
- The terms of our estate may not endure
- Hazard so near us as doth hourly grow
- Out of his lunacies.
- Guil. We will ourselves provide.
- Most holy and religious fear it is
- To keep those many many bodies safe
- That live and feed upon your Majesty.
- Ros. The single and peculiar life is bound
- With all the strength and armour of the mind
- To keep itself from noyance; but much more
- That spirit upon whose weal depends and rests
- The lives of many. The cesse of majesty
- Dies not alone, but like a gulf doth draw
- What's near it with it. It is a massy wheel,
- Fix'd on the summit of the highest mount,
- To whose huge spokes ten thousand lesser things
- Are mortis'd and adjoin'd; which when it falls,
- Each small annexment, petty consequence,
- Attends the boist'rous ruin. Never alone
- Did the king sigh, but with a general groan.
- King. Arm you, I pray you, to th', speedy voyage;
- For we will fetters put upon this fear,
- Which now goes too free-footed.
- Both. We will haste us.
- Exeunt Gentlemen.
-
- Enter Polonius.
-
- Pol. My lord, he's going to his mother's closet.
- Behind the arras I'll convey myself
- To hear the process. I'll warrant she'll tax him home;
- And, as you said, and wisely was it said,
- 'Tis meet that some more audience than a mother,
- Since nature makes them partial, should o'erhear
- The speech, of vantage. Fare you well, my liege.
- I'll call upon you ere you go to bed
- And tell you what I know.
- King. Thanks, dear my lord.
- Exit [Polonius].
- O, my offence is rank, it smells to heaven;
- It hath the primal eldest curse upon't,
- A brother's murther! Pray can I not,
- Though inclination be as sharp as will.
- My stronger guilt defeats my strong intent,
- And, like a man to double business bound,
- I stand in pause where I shall first begin,
- And both neglect. What if this cursed hand
- Were thicker than itself with brother's blood,
- Is there not rain enough in the sweet heavens
- To wash it white as snow? Whereto serves mercy
- But to confront the visage of offence?
- And what's in prayer but this twofold force,
- To be forestalled ere we come to fall,
- Or pardon'd being down? Then I'll look up;
- My fault is past. But, O, what form of prayer
- Can serve my turn? 'Forgive me my foul murther'?
- That cannot be; since I am still possess'd
- Of those effects for which I did the murther-
- My crown, mine own ambition, and my queen.
- May one be pardon'd and retain th' offence?
- In the corrupted currents of this world
- Offence's gilded hand may shove by justice,
- And oft 'tis seen the wicked prize itself
- Buys out the law; but 'tis not so above.
- There is no shuffling; there the action lies
- In his true nature, and we ourselves compell'd,
- Even to the teeth and forehead of our faults,
- To give in evidence. What then? What rests?
- Try what repentance can. What can it not?
- Yet what can it when one cannot repent?
- O wretched state! O bosom black as death!
- O limed soul, that, struggling to be free,
- Art more engag'd! Help, angels! Make assay.
- Bow, stubborn knees; and heart with strings of steel,
- Be soft as sinews of the new-born babe!
- All may be well. He kneels.
-
- Enter Hamlet.
-
- Ham. Now might I do it pat, now he is praying;
- And now I'll do't. And so he goes to heaven,
- And so am I reveng'd. That would be scann'd.
- A villain kills my father; and for that,
- I, his sole son, do this same villain send
- To heaven.
- Why, this is hire and salary, not revenge!
- He took my father grossly, full of bread,
- With all his crimes broad blown, as flush as May;
- And how his audit stands, who knows save heaven?
- But in our circumstance and course of thought,
- 'Tis heavy with him; and am I then reveng'd,
- To take him in the purging of his soul,
- When he is fit and seasoned for his passage?
- No.
- Up, sword, and know thou a more horrid hent.
- When he is drunk asleep; or in his rage;
- Or in th' incestuous pleasure of his bed;
- At gaming, swearing, or about some act
- That has no relish of salvation in't-
- Then trip him, that his heels may kick at heaven,
- And that his soul may be as damn'd and black
- As hell, whereto it goes. My mother stays.
- This physic but prolongs thy sickly days. Exit.
- King. [rises] My words fly up, my thoughts remain below.
- Words without thoughts never to heaven go. Exit.
-
-
-
-
-Scene IV.
-The Queen's closet.
-
-Enter Queen and Polonius.
-
- Pol. He will come straight. Look you lay home to him.
- Tell him his pranks have been too broad to bear with,
- And that your Grace hath screen'd and stood between
- Much heat and him. I'll silence me even here.
- Pray you be round with him.
- Ham. (within) Mother, mother, mother!
- Queen. I'll warrant you; fear me not. Withdraw; I hear him coming.
- [Polonius hides behind the arras.]
-
- Enter Hamlet.
-
- Ham. Now, mother, what's the matter?
- Queen. Hamlet, thou hast thy father much offended.
- Ham. Mother, you have my father much offended.
- Queen. Come, come, you answer with an idle tongue.
- Ham. Go, go, you question with a wicked tongue.
- Queen. Why, how now, Hamlet?
- Ham. What's the matter now?
- Queen. Have you forgot me?
- Ham. No, by the rood, not so!
- You are the Queen, your husband's brother's wife,
- And (would it were not so!) you are my mother.
- Queen. Nay, then I'll set those to you that can speak.
- Ham. Come, come, and sit you down. You shall not budge I
- You go not till I set you up a glass
- Where you may see the inmost part of you.
- Queen. What wilt thou do? Thou wilt not murther me?
- Help, help, ho!
- Pol. [behind] What, ho! help, help, help!
- Ham. [draws] How now? a rat? Dead for a ducat, dead!
- [Makes a pass through the arras and] kills Polonius.
- Pol. [behind] O, I am slain!
- Queen. O me, what hast thou done?
- Ham. Nay, I know not. Is it the King?
- Queen. O, what a rash and bloody deed is this!
- Ham. A bloody deed- almost as bad, good mother,
- As kill a king, and marry with his brother.
- Queen. As kill a king?
- Ham. Ay, lady, it was my word.
- [Lifts up the arras and sees Polonius.]
- Thou wretched, rash, intruding fool, farewell!
- I took thee for thy better. Take thy fortune.
- Thou find'st to be too busy is some danger.
- Leave wringing of your hinds. Peace! sit you down
- And let me wring your heart; for so I shall
- If it be made of penetrable stuff;
- If damned custom have not braz'd it so
- That it is proof and bulwark against sense.
- Queen. What have I done that thou dar'st wag thy tongue
- In noise so rude against me?
- Ham. Such an act
- That blurs the grace and blush of modesty;
- Calls virtue hypocrite; takes off the rose
- From the fair forehead of an innocent love,
- And sets a blister there; makes marriage vows
- As false as dicers' oaths. O, such a deed
- As from the body of contraction plucks
- The very soul, and sweet religion makes
- A rhapsody of words! Heaven's face doth glow;
- Yea, this solidity and compound mass,
- With tristful visage, as against the doom,
- Is thought-sick at the act.
- Queen. Ay me, what act,
- That roars so loud and thunders in the index?
- Ham. Look here upon th's picture, and on this,
- The counterfeit presentment of two brothers.
- See what a grace was seated on this brow;
- Hyperion's curls; the front of Jove himself;
- An eye like Mars, to threaten and command;
- A station like the herald Mercury
- New lighted on a heaven-kissing hill:
- A combination and a form indeed
- Where every god did seem to set his seal
- To give the world assurance of a man.
- This was your husband. Look you now what follows.
- Here is your husband, like a mildew'd ear
- Blasting his wholesome brother. Have you eyes?
- Could you on this fair mountain leave to feed,
- And batten on this moor? Ha! have you eyes
- You cannot call it love; for at your age
- The heyday in the blood is tame, it's humble,
- And waits upon the judgment; and what judgment
- Would step from this to this? Sense sure you have,
- Else could you not have motion; but sure that sense
- Is apoplex'd; for madness would not err,
- Nor sense to ecstacy was ne'er so thrall'd
- But it reserv'd some quantity of choice
- To serve in such a difference. What devil was't
- That thus hath cozen'd you at hoodman-blind?
- Eyes without feeling, feeling without sight,
- Ears without hands or eyes, smelling sans all,
- Or but a sickly part of one true sense
- Could not so mope.
- O shame! where is thy blush? Rebellious hell,
- If thou canst mutine in a matron's bones,
- To flaming youth let virtue be as wax
- And melt in her own fire. Proclaim no shame
- When the compulsive ardour gives the charge,
- Since frost itself as actively doth burn,
- And reason panders will.
- Queen. O Hamlet, speak no more!
- Thou turn'st mine eyes into my very soul,
- And there I see such black and grained spots
- As will not leave their tinct.
- Ham. Nay, but to live
- In the rank sweat of an enseamed bed,
- Stew'd in corruption, honeying and making love
- Over the nasty sty!
- Queen. O, speak to me no more!
- These words like daggers enter in mine ears.
- No more, sweet Hamlet!
- Ham. A murtherer and a villain!
- A slave that is not twentieth part the tithe
- Of your precedent lord; a vice of kings;
- A cutpurse of the empire and the rule,
- That from a shelf the precious diadem stole
- And put it in his pocket!
- Queen. No more!
-
- Enter the Ghost in his nightgown.
-
- Ham. A king of shreds and patches!-
- Save me and hover o'er me with your wings,
- You heavenly guards! What would your gracious figure?
- Queen. Alas, he's mad!
- Ham. Do you not come your tardy son to chide,
- That, laps'd in time and passion, lets go by
- Th' important acting of your dread command?
- O, say!
- Ghost. Do not forget. This visitation
- Is but to whet thy almost blunted purpose.
- But look, amazement on thy mother sits.
- O, step between her and her fighting soul
- Conceit in weakest bodies strongest works.
- Speak to her, Hamlet.
- Ham. How is it with you, lady?
- Queen. Alas, how is't with you,
- That you do bend your eye on vacancy,
- And with th' encorporal air do hold discourse?
- Forth at your eyes your spirits wildly peep;
- And, as the sleeping soldiers in th' alarm,
- Your bedded hairs, like life in excrements,
- Start up and stand an end. O gentle son,
- Upon the beat and flame of thy distemper
- Sprinkle cool patience! Whereon do you look?
- Ham. On him, on him! Look you how pale he glares!
- His form and cause conjoin'd, preaching to stones,
- Would make them capable.- Do not look upon me,
- Lest with this piteous action you convert
- My stern effects. Then what I have to do
- Will want true colour- tears perchance for blood.
- Queen. To whom do you speak this?
- Ham. Do you see nothing there?
- Queen. Nothing at all; yet all that is I see.
- Ham. Nor did you nothing hear?
- Queen. No, nothing but ourselves.
- Ham. Why, look you there! Look how it steals away!
- My father, in his habit as he liv'd!
- Look where he goes even now out at the portal!
- Exit Ghost.
- Queen. This is the very coinage of your brain.
- This bodiless creation ecstasy
- Is very cunning in.
- Ham. Ecstasy?
- My pulse as yours doth temperately keep time
- And makes as healthful music. It is not madness
- That I have utt'red. Bring me to the test,
- And I the matter will reword; which madness
- Would gambol from. Mother, for love of grace,
- Lay not that flattering unction to your soul
- That not your trespass but my madness speaks.
- It will but skin and film the ulcerous place,
- Whiles rank corruption, mining all within,
- Infects unseen. Confess yourself to heaven;
- Repent what's past; avoid what is to come;
- And do not spread the compost on the weeds
- To make them ranker. Forgive me this my virtue;
- For in the fatness of these pursy times
- Virtue itself of vice must pardon beg-
- Yea, curb and woo for leave to do him good.
- Queen. O Hamlet, thou hast cleft my heart in twain.
- Ham. O, throw away the worser part of it,
- And live the purer with the other half,
- Good night- but go not to my uncle's bed.
- Assume a virtue, if you have it not.
- That monster, custom, who all sense doth eat
- Of habits evil, is angel yet in this,
- That to the use of actions fair and good
- He likewise gives a frock or livery,
- That aptly is put on. Refrain to-night,
- And that shall lend a kind of easiness
- To the next abstinence; the next more easy;
- For use almost can change the stamp of nature,
- And either [master] the devil, or throw him out
- With wondrous potency. Once more, good night;
- And when you are desirous to be blest,
- I'll blessing beg of you.- For this same lord,
- I do repent; but heaven hath pleas'd it so,
- To punish me with this, and this with me,
- That I must be their scourge and minister.
- I will bestow him, and will answer well
- The death I gave him. So again, good night.
- I must be cruel, only to be kind;
- Thus bad begins, and worse remains behind.
- One word more, good lady.
- Queen. What shall I do?
- Ham. Not this, by no means, that I bid you do:
- Let the bloat King tempt you again to bed;
- Pinch wanton on your cheek; call you his mouse;
- And let him, for a pair of reechy kisses,
- Or paddling in your neck with his damn'd fingers,
- Make you to ravel all this matter out,
- That I essentially am not in madness,
- But mad in craft. 'Twere good you let him know;
- For who that's but a queen, fair, sober, wise,
- Would from a paddock, from a bat, a gib
- Such dear concernings hide? Who would do so?
- No, in despite of sense and secrecy,
- Unpeg the basket on the house's top,
- Let the birds fly, and like the famous ape,
- To try conclusions, in the basket creep
- And break your own neck down.
- Queen. Be thou assur'd, if words be made of breath,
- And breath of life, I have no life to breathe
- What thou hast said to me.
- Ham. I must to England; you know that?
- Queen. Alack,
- I had forgot! 'Tis so concluded on.
- Ham. There's letters seal'd; and my two schoolfellows,
- Whom I will trust as I will adders fang'd,
- They bear the mandate; they must sweep my way
- And marshal me to knavery. Let it work;
- For 'tis the sport to have the enginer
- Hoist with his own petar; and 't shall go hard
- But I will delve one yard below their mines
- And blow them at the moon. O, 'tis most sweet
- When in one line two crafts directly meet.
- This man shall set me packing.
- I'll lug the guts into the neighbour room.-
- Mother, good night.- Indeed, this counsellor
- Is now most still, most secret, and most grave,
- Who was in life a foolish peating knave.
- Come, sir, to draw toward an end with you.
- Good night, mother.
- [Exit the Queen. Then] Exit Hamlet, tugging in
- Polonius.
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT IV. Scene I.
-Elsinore. A room in the Castle.
-
-Enter King and Queen, with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.
-
- King. There's matter in these sighs. These profound heaves
- You must translate; 'tis fit we understand them.
- Where is your son?
- Queen. Bestow this place on us a little while.
- [Exeunt Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.]
- Ah, mine own lord, what have I seen to-night!
- King. What, Gertrude? How does Hamlet?
- Queen. Mad as the sea and wind when both contend
- Which is the mightier. In his lawless fit
- Behind the arras hearing something stir,
- Whips out his rapier, cries 'A rat, a rat!'
- And in this brainish apprehension kills
- The unseen good old man.
- King. O heavy deed!
- It had been so with us, had we been there.
- His liberty is full of threats to all-
- To you yourself, to us, to every one.
- Alas, how shall this bloody deed be answer'd?
- It will be laid to us, whose providence
- Should have kept short, restrain'd, and out of haunt
- This mad young man. But so much was our love
- We would not understand what was most fit,
- But, like the owner of a foul disease,
- To keep it from divulging, let it feed
- Even on the pith of life. Where is he gone?
- Queen. To draw apart the body he hath kill'd;
- O'er whom his very madness, like some ore
- Among a mineral of metals base,
- Shows itself pure. He weeps for what is done.
- King. O Gertrude, come away!
- The sun no sooner shall the mountains touch
- But we will ship him hence; and this vile deed
- We must with all our majesty and skill
- Both countenance and excuse. Ho, Guildenstern!
-
- Enter Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.
-
- Friends both, go join you with some further aid.
- Hamlet in madness hath Polonius slain,
- And from his mother's closet hath he dragg'd him.
- Go seek him out; speak fair, and bring the body
- Into the chapel. I pray you haste in this.
- Exeunt [Rosencrantz and Guildenstern].
- Come, Gertrude, we'll call up our wisest friends
- And let them know both what we mean to do
- And what's untimely done. [So haply slander-]
- Whose whisper o'er the world's diameter,
- As level as the cannon to his blank,
- Transports his poisoned shot- may miss our name
- And hit the woundless air.- O, come away!
- My soul is full of discord and dismay.
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-Scene II.
-Elsinore. A passage in the Castle.
-
-Enter Hamlet.
-
- Ham. Safely stow'd.
- Gentlemen. (within) Hamlet! Lord Hamlet!
- Ham. But soft! What noise? Who calls on Hamlet? O, here they come.
-
- Enter Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.
-
- Ros. What have you done, my lord, with the dead body?
- Ham. Compounded it with dust, whereto 'tis kin.
- Ros. Tell us where 'tis, that we may take it thence
- And bear it to the chapel.
- Ham. Do not believe it.
- Ros. Believe what?
- Ham. That I can keep your counsel, and not mine own. Besides, to be
- demanded of a sponge, what replication should be made by the son
- of a king?
- Ros. Take you me for a sponge, my lord?
- Ham. Ay, sir; that soaks up the King's countenance, his rewards,
- his authorities. But such officers do the King best service in
- the end. He keeps them, like an ape, in the corner of his jaw;
- first mouth'd, to be last Swallowed. When he needs what you have
- glean'd, it is but squeezing you and, sponge, you shall be dry
- again.
- Ros. I understand you not, my lord.
- Ham. I am glad of it. A knavish speech sleeps in a foolish ear.
- Ros. My lord, you must tell us where the body is and go with us to
- the King.
- Ham. The body is with the King, but the King is not with the body.
- The King is a thing-
- Guil. A thing, my lord?
- Ham. Of nothing. Bring me to him. Hide fox, and all after.
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-Scene III.
-Elsinore. A room in the Castle.
-
-Enter King.
-
- King. I have sent to seek him and to find the body.
- How dangerous is it that this man goes loose!
- Yet must not we put the strong law on him.
- He's lov'd of the distracted multitude,
- Who like not in their judgment, but their eyes;
- And where 'tis so, th' offender's scourge is weigh'd,
- But never the offence. To bear all smooth and even,
- This sudden sending him away must seem
- Deliberate pause. Diseases desperate grown
- By desperate appliance are reliev'd,
- Or not at all.
-
- Enter Rosencrantz.
-
- How now O What hath befall'n?
- Ros. Where the dead body is bestow'd, my lord,
- We cannot get from him.
- King. But where is he?
- Ros. Without, my lord; guarded, to know your pleasure.
- King. Bring him before us.
- Ros. Ho, Guildenstern! Bring in my lord.
-
- Enter Hamlet and Guildenstern [with Attendants].
-
- King. Now, Hamlet, where's Polonius?
- Ham. At supper.
- King. At supper? Where?
- Ham. Not where he eats, but where he is eaten. A certain
- convocation of politic worms are e'en at him. Your worm is your
- only emperor for diet. We fat all creatures else to fat us, and
- we fat ourselves for maggots. Your fat king and your lean beggar
- is but variable service- two dishes, but to one table. That's the
- end.
- King. Alas, alas!
- Ham. A man may fish with the worm that hath eat of a king, and eat
- of the fish that hath fed of that worm.
- King. What dost thou mean by this?
- Ham. Nothing but to show you how a king may go a progress through
- the guts of a beggar.
- King. Where is Polonius?
- Ham. In heaven. Send thither to see. If your messenger find him not
- there, seek him i' th' other place yourself. But indeed, if you
- find him not within this month, you shall nose him as you go up
- the stair, into the lobby.
- King. Go seek him there. [To Attendants.]
- Ham. He will stay till you come.
- [Exeunt Attendants.]
- King. Hamlet, this deed, for thine especial safety,-
- Which we do tender as we dearly grieve
- For that which thou hast done,- must send thee hence
- With fiery quickness. Therefore prepare thyself.
- The bark is ready and the wind at help,
- Th' associates tend, and everything is bent
- For England.
- Ham. For England?
- King. Ay, Hamlet.
- Ham. Good.
- King. So is it, if thou knew'st our purposes.
- Ham. I see a cherub that sees them. But come, for England!
- Farewell, dear mother.
- King. Thy loving father, Hamlet.
- Ham. My mother! Father and mother is man and wife; man and wife is
- one flesh; and so, my mother. Come, for England!
-Exit.
- King. Follow him at foot; tempt him with speed aboard.
- Delay it not; I'll have him hence to-night.
- Away! for everything is seal'd and done
- That else leans on th' affair. Pray you make haste.
- Exeunt Rosencrantz and Guildenstern]
- And, England, if my love thou hold'st at aught,-
- As my great power thereof may give thee sense,
- Since yet thy cicatrice looks raw and red
- After the Danish sword, and thy free awe
- Pays homage to us,- thou mayst not coldly set
- Our sovereign process, which imports at full,
- By letters congruing to that effect,
- The present death of Hamlet. Do it, England;
- For like the hectic in my blood he rages,
- And thou must cure me. Till I know 'tis done,
- Howe'er my haps, my joys were ne'er begun. Exit.
-
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-Scene IV.
-Near Elsinore.
-
-Enter Fortinbras with his Army over the stage.
-
- For. Go, Captain, from me greet the Danish king.
- Tell him that by his license Fortinbras
- Craves the conveyance of a promis'd march
- Over his kingdom. You know the rendezvous.
- if that his Majesty would aught with us,
- We shall express our duty in his eye;
- And let him know so.
- Capt. I will do't, my lord.
- For. Go softly on.
- Exeunt [all but the Captain].
-
- Enter Hamlet, Rosencrantz, [Guildenstern,] and others.
-
- Ham. Good sir, whose powers are these?
- Capt. They are of Norway, sir.
- Ham. How purpos'd, sir, I pray you?
- Capt. Against some part of Poland.
- Ham. Who commands them, sir?
- Capt. The nephew to old Norway, Fortinbras.
- Ham. Goes it against the main of Poland, sir,
- Or for some frontier?
- Capt. Truly to speak, and with no addition,
- We go to gain a little patch of ground
- That hath in it no profit but the name.
- To pay five ducats, five, I would not farm it;
- Nor will it yield to Norway or the Pole
- A ranker rate, should it be sold in fee.
- Ham. Why, then the Polack never will defend it.
- Capt. Yes, it is already garrison'd.
- Ham. Two thousand souls and twenty thousand ducats
- Will not debate the question of this straw.
- This is th' imposthume of much wealth and peace,
- That inward breaks, and shows no cause without
- Why the man dies.- I humbly thank you, sir.
- Capt. God b' wi' you, sir. [Exit.]
- Ros. Will't please you go, my lord?
- Ham. I'll be with you straight. Go a little before.
- [Exeunt all but Hamlet.]
- How all occasions do inform against me
- And spur my dull revenge! What is a man,
- If his chief good and market of his time
- Be but to sleep and feed? A beast, no more.
- Sure he that made us with such large discourse,
- Looking before and after, gave us not
- That capability and godlike reason
- To fust in us unus'd. Now, whether it be
- Bestial oblivion, or some craven scruple
- Of thinking too precisely on th' event,-
- A thought which, quarter'd, hath but one part wisdom
- And ever three parts coward,- I do not know
- Why yet I live to say 'This thing's to do,'
- Sith I have cause, and will, and strength, and means
- To do't. Examples gross as earth exhort me.
- Witness this army of such mass and charge,
- Led by a delicate and tender prince,
- Whose spirit, with divine ambition puff'd,
- Makes mouths at the invisible event,
- Exposing what is mortal and unsure
- To all that fortune, death, and danger dare,
- Even for an eggshell. Rightly to be great
- Is not to stir without great argument,
- But greatly to find quarrel in a straw
- When honour's at the stake. How stand I then,
- That have a father klll'd, a mother stain'd,
- Excitements of my reason and my blood,
- And let all sleep, while to my shame I see
- The imminent death of twenty thousand men
- That for a fantasy and trick of fame
- Go to their graves like beds, fight for a plot
- Whereon the numbers cannot try the cause,
- Which is not tomb enough and continent
- To hide the slain? O, from this time forth,
- My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth! Exit.
-
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-Scene V.
-Elsinore. A room in the Castle.
-
-Enter Horatio, Queen, and a Gentleman.
-
- Queen. I will not speak with her.
- Gent. She is importunate, indeed distract.
- Her mood will needs be pitied.
- Queen. What would she have?
- Gent. She speaks much of her father; says she hears
- There's tricks i' th' world, and hems, and beats her heart;
- Spurns enviously at straws; speaks things in doubt,
- That carry but half sense. Her speech is nothing,
- Yet the unshaped use of it doth move
- The hearers to collection; they aim at it,
- And botch the words up fit to their own thoughts;
- Which, as her winks and nods and gestures yield them,
- Indeed would make one think there might be thought,
- Though nothing sure, yet much unhappily.
- Hor. 'Twere good she were spoken with; for she may strew
- Dangerous conjectures in ill-breeding minds.
- Queen. Let her come in.
- [Exit Gentleman.]
- [Aside] To my sick soul (as sin's true nature is)
- Each toy seems Prologue to some great amiss.
- So full of artless jealousy is guilt
- It spills itself in fearing to be spilt.
-
- Enter Ophelia distracted.
-
- Oph. Where is the beauteous Majesty of Denmark?
- Queen. How now, Ophelia?
- Oph. (sings)
- How should I your true-love know
- From another one?
- By his cockle bat and' staff
- And his sandal shoon.
-
- Queen. Alas, sweet lady, what imports this song?
- Oph. Say you? Nay, pray You mark.
-
- (Sings) He is dead and gone, lady,
- He is dead and gone;
- At his head a grass-green turf,
- At his heels a stone.
-
- O, ho!
- Queen. Nay, but Ophelia-
- Oph. Pray you mark.
-
- (Sings) White his shroud as the mountain snow-
-
- Enter King.
-
- Queen. Alas, look here, my lord!
- Oph. (Sings)
- Larded all with sweet flowers;
- Which bewept to the grave did not go
- With true-love showers.
-
- King. How do you, pretty lady?
- Oph. Well, God dild you! They say the owl was a baker's daughter.
- Lord, we know what we are, but know not what we may be. God be at
- your table!
- King. Conceit upon her father.
- Oph. Pray let's have no words of this; but when they ask, you what
- it means, say you this:
-
- (Sings) To-morrow is Saint Valentine's day,
- All in the morning bedtime,
- And I a maid at your window,
- To be your Valentine.
-
- Then up he rose and donn'd his clo'es
- And dupp'd the chamber door,
- Let in the maid, that out a maid
- Never departed more.
-
- King. Pretty Ophelia!
- Oph. Indeed, la, without an oath, I'll make an end on't!
-
- [Sings] By Gis and by Saint Charity,
- Alack, and fie for shame!
- Young men will do't if they come to't
- By Cock, they are to blame.
-
- Quoth she, 'Before you tumbled me,
- You promis'd me to wed.'
-
- He answers:
-
- 'So would I 'a' done, by yonder sun,
- An thou hadst not come to my bed.'
-
- King. How long hath she been thus?
- Oph. I hope all will be well. We must be patient; but I cannot
- choose but weep to think they would lay him i' th' cold ground.
- My brother shall know of it; and so I thank you for your good
- counsel. Come, my coach! Good night, ladies. Good night, sweet
- ladies. Good night, good night. Exit
- King. Follow her close; give her good watch, I pray you.
- [Exit Horatio.]
- O, this is the poison of deep grief; it springs
- All from her father's death. O Gertrude, Gertrude,
- When sorrows come, they come not single spies.
- But in battalions! First, her father slain;
- Next, Your son gone, and he most violent author
- Of his own just remove; the people muddied,
- Thick and and unwholesome in their thoughts and whispers
- For good Polonius' death, and we have done but greenly
- In hugger-mugger to inter him; Poor Ophelia
- Divided from herself and her fair-judgment,
- Without the which we are Pictures or mere beasts;
- Last, and as such containing as all these,
- Her brother is in secret come from France;
- And wants not buzzers to infect his ear
- Feeds on his wonder, keep, himself in clouds,
- With pestilent speeches of his father's death,
- Wherein necessity, of matter beggar'd,
- Will nothing stick Our person to arraign
- In ear and ear. O my dear Gertrude, this,
- Like to a murd'ring piece, in many places
- Give, me superfluous death. A noise within.
- Queen. Alack, what noise is this?
- King. Where are my Switzers? Let them guard the door.
-
- Enter a Messenger.
-
- What is the matter?
- Mess. Save Yourself, my lord:
- The ocean, overpeering of his list,
- Eats not the flats with more impetuous haste
- Than Young Laertes, in a riotous head,
- O'erbears Your offices. The rabble call him lord;
- And, as the world were now but to begin,
- Antiquity forgot, custom not known,
- The ratifiers and props of every word,
- They cry 'Choose we! Laertes shall be king!'
- Caps, hands, and tongues applaud it to the clouds,
- 'Laertes shall be king! Laertes king!'
- A noise within.
- Queen. How cheerfully on the false trail they cry!
- O, this is counter, you false Danish dogs!
- King. The doors are broke.
-
- Enter Laertes with others.
-
- Laer. Where is this king?- Sirs, staid you all without.
- All. No, let's come in!
- Laer. I pray you give me leave.
- All. We will, we will!
- Laer. I thank you. Keep the door. [Exeunt his Followers.]
- O thou vile king,
- Give me my father!
- Queen. Calmly, good Laertes.
- Laer. That drop of blood that's calm proclaims me bastard;
- Cries cuckold to my father; brands the harlot
- Even here between the chaste unsmirched brows
- Of my true mother.
- King. What is the cause, Laertes,
- That thy rebellion looks so giantlike?
- Let him go, Gertrude. Do not fear our person.
- There's such divinity doth hedge a king
- That treason can but peep to what it would,
- Acts little of his will. Tell me, Laertes,
- Why thou art thus incens'd. Let him go, Gertrude.
- Speak, man.
- Laer. Where is my father?
- King. Dead.
- Queen. But not by him!
- King. Let him demand his fill.
- Laer. How came he dead? I'll not be juggled with:
- To hell, allegiance! vows, to the blackest devil
- Conscience and grace, to the profoundest pit!
- I dare damnation. To this point I stand,
- That both the world, I give to negligence,
- Let come what comes; only I'll be reveng'd
- Most throughly for my father.
- King. Who shall stay you?
- Laer. My will, not all the world!
- And for my means, I'll husband them so well
- They shall go far with little.
- King. Good Laertes,
- If you desire to know the certainty
- Of your dear father's death, is't writ in Your revenge
- That swoopstake you will draw both friend and foe,
- Winner and loser?
- Laer. None but his enemies.
- King. Will you know them then?
- Laer. To his good friends thus wide I'll ope my arms
- And, like the kind life-rend'ring pelican,
- Repast them with my blood.
- King. Why, now You speak
- Like a good child and a true gentleman.
- That I am guiltless of your father's death,
- And am most sensibly in grief for it,
- It shall as level to your judgment pierce
- As day does to your eye.
- A noise within: 'Let her come in.'
- Laer. How now? What noise is that?
-
- Enter Ophelia.
-
- O heat, dry up my brains! Tears seven times salt
- Burn out the sense and virtue of mine eye!
- By heaven, thy madness shall be paid by weight
- Till our scale turn the beam. O rose of May!
- Dear maid, kind sister, sweet Ophelia!
- O heavens! is't possible a young maid's wits
- Should be as mortal as an old man's life?
- Nature is fine in love, and where 'tis fine,
- It sends some precious instance of itself
- After the thing it loves.
-
- Oph. (sings)
- They bore him barefac'd on the bier
- (Hey non nony, nony, hey nony)
- And in his grave rain'd many a tear.
-
- Fare you well, my dove!
- Laer. Hadst thou thy wits, and didst persuade revenge,
- It could not move thus.
- Oph. You must sing 'A-down a-down, and you call him a-down-a.' O,
- how the wheel becomes it! It is the false steward, that stole his
- master's daughter.
- Laer. This nothing's more than matter.
- Oph. There's rosemary, that's for remembrance. Pray you, love,
- remember. And there is pansies, that's for thoughts.
- Laer. A document in madness! Thoughts and remembrance fitted.
- Oph. There's fennel for you, and columbines. There's rue for you,
- and here's some for me. We may call it herb of grace o' Sundays.
- O, you must wear your rue with a difference! There's a daisy. I
- would give you some violets, but they wither'd all when my father
- died. They say he made a good end.
-
- [Sings] For bonny sweet Robin is all my joy.
-
- Laer. Thought and affliction, passion, hell itself,
- She turns to favour and to prettiness.
- Oph. (sings)
- And will he not come again?
- And will he not come again?
- No, no, he is dead;
- Go to thy deathbed;
- He never will come again.
-
- His beard was as white as snow,
- All flaxen was his poll.
- He is gone, he is gone,
- And we cast away moan.
- God 'a'mercy on his soul!
-
- And of all Christian souls, I pray God. God b' wi', you.
-Exit.
- Laer. Do you see this, O God?
- King. Laertes, I must commune with your grief,
- Or you deny me right. Go but apart,
- Make choice of whom your wisest friends you will,
- And they shall hear and judge 'twixt you and me.
- If by direct or by collateral hand
- They find us touch'd, we will our kingdom give,
- Our crown, our life, and all that we call ours,
- To you in satisfaction; but if not,
- Be you content to lend your patience to us,
- And we shall jointly labour with your soul
- To give it due content.
- Laer. Let this be so.
- His means of death, his obscure funeral-
- No trophy, sword, nor hatchment o'er his bones,
- No noble rite nor formal ostentation,-
- Cry to be heard, as 'twere from heaven to earth,
- That I must call't in question.
- King. So you shall;
- And where th' offence is let the great axe fall.
- I pray you go with me.
- Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-Scene VI.
-Elsinore. Another room in the Castle.
-
-Enter Horatio with an Attendant.
-
- Hor. What are they that would speak with me?
- Servant. Seafaring men, sir. They say they have letters for you.
- Hor. Let them come in.
- [Exit Attendant.]
- I do not know from what part of the world
- I should be greeted, if not from Lord Hamlet.
-
- Enter Sailors.
-
- Sailor. God bless you, sir.
- Hor. Let him bless thee too.
- Sailor. 'A shall, sir, an't please him. There's a letter for you,
- sir,- it comes from th' ambassador that was bound for England- if
- your name be Horatio, as I am let to know it is.
- Hor. (reads the letter) 'Horatio, when thou shalt have overlook'd
- this, give these fellows some means to the King. They have
- letters for him. Ere we were two days old at sea, a pirate of
- very warlike appointment gave us chase. Finding ourselves too
- slow of sail, we put on a compelled valour, and in the grapple I
- boarded them. On the instant they got clear of our ship; so I
- alone became their prisoner. They have dealt with me like thieves
- of mercy; but they knew what they did: I am to do a good turn for
- them. Let the King have the letters I have sent, and repair thou
- to me with as much speed as thou wouldst fly death. I have words
- to speak in thine ear will make thee dumb; yet are they much too
- light for the bore of the matter. These good fellows will bring
- thee where I am. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern hold their course
- for England. Of them I have much to tell thee. Farewell.
- 'He that thou knowest thine, HAMLET.'
-
- Come, I will give you way for these your letters,
- And do't the speedier that you may direct me
- To him from whom you brought them. Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-Scene VII.
-Elsinore. Another room in the Castle.
-
-Enter King and Laertes.
-
- King. Now must your conscience my acquittance seal,
- And You must put me in your heart for friend,
- Sith you have heard, and with a knowing ear,
- That he which hath your noble father slain
- Pursued my life.
- Laer. It well appears. But tell me
- Why you proceeded not against these feats
- So crimeful and so capital in nature,
- As by your safety, wisdom, all things else,
- You mainly were stirr'd up.
- King. O, for two special reasons,
- Which may to you, perhaps, seein much unsinew'd,
- But yet to me they are strong. The Queen his mother
- Lives almost by his looks; and for myself,-
- My virtue or my plague, be it either which,-
- She's so conjunctive to my life and soul
- That, as the star moves not but in his sphere,
- I could not but by her. The other motive
- Why to a public count I might not go
- Is the great love the general gender bear him,
- Who, dipping all his faults in their affection,
- Would, like the spring that turneth wood to stone,
- Convert his gives to graces; so that my arrows,
- Too slightly timber'd for so loud a wind,
- Would have reverted to my bow again,
- And not where I had aim'd them.
- Laer. And so have I a noble father lost;
- A sister driven into desp'rate terms,
- Whose worth, if praises may go back again,
- Stood challenger on mount of all the age
- For her perfections. But my revenge will come.
- King. Break not your sleeps for that. You must not think
- That we are made of stuff so flat and dull
- That we can let our beard be shook with danger,
- And think it pastime. You shortly shall hear more.
- I lov'd your father, and we love ourself,
- And that, I hope, will teach you to imagine-
-
- Enter a Messenger with letters.
-
- How now? What news?
- Mess. Letters, my lord, from Hamlet:
- This to your Majesty; this to the Queen.
- King. From Hamlet? Who brought them?
- Mess. Sailors, my lord, they say; I saw them not.
- They were given me by Claudio; he receiv'd them
- Of him that brought them.
- King. Laertes, you shall hear them.
- Leave us.
- Exit Messenger.
- [Reads]'High and Mighty,-You shall know I am set naked on your
- kingdom. To-morrow shall I beg leave to see your kingly eyes;
- when I shall (first asking your pardon thereunto) recount the
- occasion of my sudden and more strange return.
- 'HAMLET.'
- What should this mean? Are all the rest come back?
- Or is it some abuse, and no such thing?
- Laer. Know you the hand?
- King. 'Tis Hamlet's character. 'Naked!'
- And in a postscript here, he says 'alone.'
- Can you advise me?
- Laer. I am lost in it, my lord. But let him come!
- It warms the very sickness in my heart
- That I shall live and tell him to his teeth,
- 'Thus didest thou.'
- King. If it be so, Laertes
- (As how should it be so? how otherwise?),
- Will you be rul'd by me?
- Laer. Ay my lord,
- So you will not o'errule me to a peace.
- King. To thine own peace. If he be now return'd
- As checking at his voyage, and that he means
- No more to undertake it, I will work him
- To exploit now ripe in my device,
- Under the which he shall not choose but fall;
- And for his death no wind
- But even his mother shall uncharge the practice
- And call it accident.
- Laer. My lord, I will be rul'd;
- The rather, if you could devise it so
- That I might be the organ.
- King. It falls right.
- You have been talk'd of since your travel much,
- And that in Hamlet's hearing, for a quality
- Wherein they say you shine, Your sun of parts
- Did not together pluck such envy from him
- As did that one; and that, in my regard,
- Of the unworthiest siege.
- Laer. What part is that, my lord?
- King. A very riband in the cap of youth-
- Yet needfull too; for youth no less becomes
- The light and careless livery that it wears
- Thin settled age his sables and his weeds,
- Importing health and graveness. Two months since
- Here was a gentleman of Normandy.
- I have seen myself, and serv'd against, the French,
- And they can well on horseback; but this gallant
- Had witchcraft in't. He grew unto his seat,
- And to such wondrous doing brought his horse
- As had he been incorps'd and demi-natur'd
- With the brave beast. So far he topp'd my thought
- That I, in forgery of shapes and tricks,
- Come short of what he did.
- Laer. A Norman was't?
- King. A Norman.
- Laer. Upon my life, Lamound.
- King. The very same.
- Laer. I know him well. He is the broach indeed
- And gem of all the nation.
- King. He made confession of you;
- And gave you such a masterly report
- For art and exercise in your defence,
- And for your rapier most especially,
- That he cried out 'twould be a sight indeed
- If one could match you. The scrimers of their nation
- He swore had neither motion, guard, nor eye,
- If you oppos'd them. Sir, this report of his
- Did Hamlet so envenom with his envy
- That he could nothing do but wish and beg
- Your sudden coming o'er to play with you.
- Now, out of this-
- Laer. What out of this, my lord?
- King. Laertes, was your father dear to you?
- Or are you like the painting of a sorrow,
- A face without a heart,'
- Laer. Why ask you this?
- King. Not that I think you did not love your father;
- But that I know love is begun by time,
- And that I see, in passages of proof,
- Time qualifies the spark and fire of it.
- There lives within the very flame of love
- A kind of wick or snuff that will abate it;
- And nothing is at a like goodness still;
- For goodness, growing to a plurisy,
- Dies in his own too-much. That we would do,
- We should do when we would; for this 'would' changes,
- And hath abatements and delays as many
- As there are tongues, are hands, are accidents;
- And then this 'should' is like a spendthrift sigh,
- That hurts by easing. But to the quick o' th' ulcer!
- Hamlet comes back. What would you undertake
- To show yourself your father's son in deed
- More than in words?
- Laer. To cut his throat i' th' church!
- King. No place indeed should murther sanctuarize;
- Revenge should have no bounds. But, good Laertes,
- Will you do this? Keep close within your chamber.
- Will return'd shall know you are come home.
- We'll put on those shall praise your excellence
- And set a double varnish on the fame
- The Frenchman gave you; bring you in fine together
- And wager on your heads. He, being remiss,
- Most generous, and free from all contriving,
- Will not peruse the foils; so that with ease,
- Or with a little shuffling, you may choose
- A sword unbated, and, in a pass of practice,
- Requite him for your father.
- Laer. I will do't!
- And for that purpose I'll anoint my sword.
- I bought an unction of a mountebank,
- So mortal that, but dip a knife in it,
- Where it draws blood no cataplasm so rare,
- Collected from all simples that have virtue
- Under the moon, can save the thing from death
- This is but scratch'd withal. I'll touch my point
- With this contagion, that, if I gall him slightly,
- It may be death.
- King. Let's further think of this,
- Weigh what convenience both of time and means
- May fit us to our shape. If this should fall,
- And that our drift look through our bad performance.
- 'Twere better not assay'd. Therefore this project
- Should have a back or second, that might hold
- If this did blast in proof. Soft! let me see.
- We'll make a solemn wager on your cunnings-
- I ha't!
- When in your motion you are hot and dry-
- As make your bouts more violent to that end-
- And that he calls for drink, I'll have prepar'd him
- A chalice for the nonce; whereon but sipping,
- If he by chance escape your venom'd stuck,
- Our purpose may hold there.- But stay, what noise,
-
- Enter Queen.
-
- How now, sweet queen?
- Queen. One woe doth tread upon another's heel,
- So fast they follow. Your sister's drown'd, Laertes.
- Laer. Drown'd! O, where?
- Queen. There is a willow grows aslant a brook,
- That shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream.
- There with fantastic garlands did she come
- Of crowflowers, nettles, daisies, and long purples,
- That liberal shepherds give a grosser name,
- But our cold maids do dead men's fingers call them.
- There on the pendant boughs her coronet weeds
- Clamb'ring to hang, an envious sliver broke,
- When down her weedy trophies and herself
- Fell in the weeping brook. Her clothes spread wide
- And, mermaid-like, awhile they bore her up;
- Which time she chaunted snatches of old tunes,
- As one incapable of her own distress,
- Or like a creature native and indued
- Unto that element; but long it could not be
- Till that her garments, heavy with their drink,
- Pull'd the poor wretch from her melodious lay
- To muddy death.
- Laer. Alas, then she is drown'd?
- Queen. Drown'd, drown'd.
- Laer. Too much of water hast thou, poor Ophelia,
- And therefore I forbid my tears; but yet
- It is our trick; nature her custom holds,
- Let shame say what it will. When these are gone,
- The woman will be out. Adieu, my lord.
- I have a speech of fire, that fain would blaze
- But that this folly douts it. Exit.
- King. Let's follow, Gertrude.
- How much I had to do to calm his rage I
- Now fear I this will give it start again;
- Therefore let's follow.
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT V. Scene I.
-Elsinore. A churchyard.
-
-Enter two Clowns, [with spades and pickaxes].
-
- Clown. Is she to be buried in Christian burial when she wilfully
- seeks her own salvation?
- Other. I tell thee she is; therefore make her grave straight.
- The crowner hath sate on her, and finds it Christian burial.
- Clown. How can that be, unless she drown'd herself in her own
- defence?
- Other. Why, 'tis found so.
- Clown. It must be se offendendo; it cannot be else. For here lies
- the point: if I drown myself wittingly, it argues an act; and an
- act hath three branches-it is to act, to do, and to perform;
- argal, she drown'd herself wittingly.
- Other. Nay, but hear you, Goodman Delver!
- Clown. Give me leave. Here lies the water; good. Here stands the
- man; good. If the man go to this water and drown himself, it is,
- will he nill he, he goes- mark you that. But if the water come to
- him and drown him, he drowns not himself. Argal, he that is not
- guilty of his own death shortens not his own life.
- Other. But is this law?
- Clown. Ay, marry, is't- crowner's quest law.
- Other. Will you ha' the truth an't? If this had not been a
- gentlewoman, she should have been buried out o' Christian burial.
- Clown. Why, there thou say'st! And the more pity that great folk
- should have count'nance in this world to drown or hang themselves
- more than their even-Christen. Come, my spade! There is no
- ancient gentlemen but gard'ners, ditchers, and grave-makers. They
- hold up Adam's profession.
- Other. Was he a gentleman?
- Clown. 'A was the first that ever bore arms.
- Other. Why, he had none.
- Clown. What, art a heathen? How dost thou understand the Scripture?
- The Scripture says Adam digg'd. Could he dig without arms? I'll
- put another question to thee. If thou answerest me not to the
- purpose, confess thyself-
- Other. Go to!
- Clown. What is he that builds stronger than either the mason, the
- shipwright, or the carpenter?
- Other. The gallows-maker; for that frame outlives a thousand
- tenants.
- Clown. I like thy wit well, in good faith. The gallows does well.
- But how does it well? It does well to those that do ill. Now,
- thou dost ill to say the gallows is built stronger than the
- church. Argal, the gallows may do well to thee. To't again, come!
- Other. Who builds stronger than a mason, a shipwright, or a
- carpenter?
- Clown. Ay, tell me that, and unyoke.
- Other. Marry, now I can tell!
- Clown. To't.
- Other. Mass, I cannot tell.
-
- Enter Hamlet and Horatio afar off.
-
- Clown. Cudgel thy brains no more about it, for your dull ass will
- not mend his pace with beating; and when you are ask'd this
- question next, say 'a grave-maker.' The houses he makes lasts
- till doomsday. Go, get thee to Yaughan; fetch me a stoup of
- liquor.
- [Exit Second Clown.]
-
- [Clown digs and] sings.
-
- In youth when I did love, did love,
- Methought it was very sweet;
- To contract- O- the time for- a- my behove,
- O, methought there- a- was nothing- a- meet.
-
- Ham. Has this fellow no feeling of his business, that he sings at
- grave-making?
- Hor. Custom hath made it in him a Property of easiness.
- Ham. 'Tis e'en so. The hand of little employment hath the daintier
- sense.
- Clown. (sings)
- But age with his stealing steps
- Hath clawed me in his clutch,
- And hath shipped me intil the land,
- As if I had never been such.
- [Throws up a skull.]
-
- Ham. That skull had a tongue in it, and could sing once. How the
- knave jowls it to the ground,as if 'twere Cain's jawbone, that
- did the first murther! This might be the pate of a Politician,
- which this ass now o'erreaches; one that would circumvent God,
- might it not?
- Hor. It might, my lord.
- Ham. Or of a courtier, which could say 'Good morrow, sweet lord!
- How dost thou, good lord?' This might be my Lord Such-a-one, that
- prais'd my Lord Such-a-one's horse when he meant to beg it- might
- it not?
- Hor. Ay, my lord.
- Ham. Why, e'en so! and now my Lady Worm's, chapless, and knock'd
- about the mazzard with a sexton's spade. Here's fine revolution,
- and we had the trick to see't. Did these bones cost no more the
- breeding but to play at loggets with 'em? Mine ache to think
- on't.
- Clown. (Sings)
- A pickaxe and a spade, a spade,
- For and a shrouding sheet;
- O, a Pit of clay for to be made
- For such a guest is meet.
- Throws up [another skull].
-
- Ham. There's another. Why may not that be the skull of a lawyer?
- Where be his quiddits now, his quillets, his cases, his tenures,
- and his tricks? Why does he suffer this rude knave now to knock
- him about the sconce with a dirty shovel, and will not tell him
- of his action of battery? Hum! This fellow might be in's time a
- great buyer of land, with his statutes, his recognizances, his
- fines, his double vouchers, his recoveries. Is this the fine of
- his fines, and the recovery of his recoveries, to have his fine
- pate full of fine dirt? Will his vouchers vouch him no more of
- his purchases, and double ones too, than the length and breadth
- of a pair of indentures? The very conveyances of his lands will
- scarcely lie in this box; and must th' inheritor himself have no
- more, ha?
- Hor. Not a jot more, my lord.
- Ham. Is not parchment made of sheepskins?
- Hor. Ay, my lord, And of calveskins too.
- Ham. They are sheep and calves which seek out assurance in that. I
- will speak to this fellow. Whose grave's this, sirrah?
- Clown. Mine, sir.
-
- [Sings] O, a pit of clay for to be made
- For such a guest is meet.
-
- Ham. I think it be thine indeed, for thou liest in't.
- Clown. You lie out on't, sir, and therefore 'tis not yours.
- For my part, I do not lie in't, yet it is mine.
- Ham. Thou dost lie in't, to be in't and say it is thine. 'Tis for
- the dead, not for the quick; therefore thou liest.
- Clown. 'Tis a quick lie, sir; 'twill away again from me to you.
- Ham. What man dost thou dig it for?
- Clown. For no man, sir.
- Ham. What woman then?
- Clown. For none neither.
- Ham. Who is to be buried in't?
- Clown. One that was a woman, sir; but, rest her soul, she's dead.
- Ham. How absolute the knave is! We must speak by the card, or
- equivocation will undo us. By the Lord, Horatio, this three years
- I have taken note of it, the age is grown so picked that the toe
- of the peasant comes so near the heel of the courtier he galls
- his kibe.- How long hast thou been a grave-maker?
- Clown. Of all the days i' th' year, I came to't that day that our
- last king Hamlet overcame Fortinbras.
- Ham. How long is that since?
- Clown. Cannot you tell that? Every fool can tell that. It was the
- very day that young Hamlet was born- he that is mad, and sent
- into England.
- Ham. Ay, marry, why was be sent into England?
- Clown. Why, because 'a was mad. 'A shall recover his wits there;
- or, if 'a do not, 'tis no great matter there.
- Ham. Why?
- Clown. 'Twill not he seen in him there. There the men are as mad as
- he.
- Ham. How came he mad?
- Clown. Very strangely, they say.
- Ham. How strangely?
- Clown. Faith, e'en with losing his wits.
- Ham. Upon what ground?
- Clown. Why, here in Denmark. I have been sexton here, man and boy
- thirty years.
- Ham. How long will a man lie i' th' earth ere he rot?
- Clown. Faith, if 'a be not rotten before 'a die (as we have many
- pocky corses now-a-days that will scarce hold the laying in, I
- will last you some eight year or nine year. A tanner will last
- you nine year.
- Ham. Why he more than another?
- Clown. Why, sir, his hide is so tann'd with his trade that 'a will
- keep out water a great while; and your water is a sore decayer of
- your whoreson dead body. Here's a skull now. This skull hath lien
- you i' th' earth three-and-twenty years.
- Ham. Whose was it?
- Clown. A whoreson, mad fellow's it was. Whose do you think it was?
- Ham. Nay, I know not.
- Clown. A pestilence on him for a mad rogue! 'A pour'd a flagon of
- Rhenish on my head once. This same skull, sir, was Yorick's
- skull, the King's jester.
- Ham. This?
- Clown. E'en that.
- Ham. Let me see. [Takes the skull.] Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him,
- Horatio. A fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy. He
- hath borne me on his back a thousand tunes. And now how abhorred
- in my imagination it is! My gorge rises at it. Here hung those
- lips that I have kiss'd I know not how oft. Where be your gibes
- now? your gambols? your songs? your flashes of merriment that
- were wont to set the table on a roar? Not one now, to mock your
- own grinning? Quite chap- fall'n? Now get you to my lady's
- chamber, and tell her, let her paint an inch thick, to this
- favour she must come. Make her laugh at that. Prithee, Horatio,
- tell me one thing.
- Hor. What's that, my lord?
- Ham. Dost thou think Alexander look'd o' this fashion i' th' earth?
- Hor. E'en so.
- Ham. And smelt so? Pah!
- [Puts down the skull.]
- Hor. E'en so, my lord.
- Ham. To what base uses we may return, Horatio! Why may not
- imagination trace the noble dust of Alexander till he find it
- stopping a bunghole?
- Hor. 'Twere to consider too curiously, to consider so.
- Ham. No, faith, not a jot; but to follow him thither with modesty
- enough, and likelihood to lead it; as thus: Alexander died,
- Alexander was buried, Alexander returneth into dust; the dust is
- earth; of earth we make loam; and why of that loam (whereto he
- was converted) might they not stop a beer barrel?
- Imperious Caesar, dead and turn'd to clay,
- Might stop a hole to keep the wind away.
- O, that that earth which kept the world in awe
- Should patch a wall t' expel the winter's flaw!
- But soft! but soft! aside! Here comes the King-
-
- Enter [priests with] a coffin [in funeral procession], King,
- Queen, Laertes, with Lords attendant.]
-
- The Queen, the courtiers. Who is this they follow?
- And with such maimed rites? This doth betoken
- The corse they follow did with desp'rate hand
- Fordo it own life. 'Twas of some estate.
- Couch we awhile, and mark.
- [Retires with Horatio.]
- Laer. What ceremony else?
- Ham. That is Laertes,
- A very noble youth. Mark.
- Laer. What ceremony else?
- Priest. Her obsequies have been as far enlarg'd
- As we have warranty. Her death was doubtful;
- And, but that great command o'ersways the order,
- She should in ground unsanctified have lodg'd
- Till the last trumpet. For charitable prayers,
- Shards, flints, and pebbles should be thrown on her.
- Yet here she is allow'd her virgin crants,
- Her maiden strewments, and the bringing home
- Of bell and burial.
- Laer. Must there no more be done?
- Priest. No more be done.
- We should profane the service of the dead
- To sing a requiem and such rest to her
- As to peace-parted souls.
- Laer. Lay her i' th' earth;
- And from her fair and unpolluted flesh
- May violets spring! I tell thee, churlish priest,
- A minist'ring angel shall my sister be
- When thou liest howling.
- Ham. What, the fair Ophelia?
- Queen. Sweets to the sweet! Farewell.
- [Scatters flowers.]
- I hop'd thou shouldst have been my Hamlet's wife;
- I thought thy bride-bed to have deck'd, sweet maid,
- And not have strew'd thy grave.
- Laer. O, treble woe
- Fall ten times treble on that cursed head
- Whose wicked deed thy most ingenious sense
- Depriv'd thee of! Hold off the earth awhile,
- Till I have caught her once more in mine arms.
- Leaps in the grave.
- Now pile your dust upon the quick and dead
- Till of this flat a mountain you have made
- T' o'ertop old Pelion or the skyish head
- Of blue Olympus.
- Ham. [comes forward] What is he whose grief
- Bears such an emphasis? whose phrase of sorrow
- Conjures the wand'ring stars, and makes them stand
- Like wonder-wounded hearers? This is I,
- Hamlet the Dane. [Leaps in after Laertes.
- Laer. The devil take thy soul!
- [Grapples with him].
- Ham. Thou pray'st not well.
- I prithee take thy fingers from my throat;
- For, though I am not splenitive and rash,
- Yet have I in me something dangerous,
- Which let thy wisdom fear. Hold off thy hand!
- King. Pluck thein asunder.
- Queen. Hamlet, Hamlet!
- All. Gentlemen!
- Hor. Good my lord, be quiet.
- [The Attendants part them, and they come out of the
- grave.]
- Ham. Why, I will fight with him upon this theme
- Until my eyelids will no longer wag.
- Queen. O my son, what theme?
- Ham. I lov'd Ophelia. Forty thousand brothers
- Could not (with all their quantity of love)
- Make up my sum. What wilt thou do for her?
- King. O, he is mad, Laertes.
- Queen. For love of God, forbear him!
- Ham. 'Swounds, show me what thou't do.
- Woo't weep? woo't fight? woo't fast? woo't tear thyself?
- Woo't drink up esill? eat a crocodile?
- I'll do't. Dost thou come here to whine?
- To outface me with leaping in her grave?
- Be buried quick with her, and so will I.
- And if thou prate of mountains, let them throw
- Millions of acres on us, till our ground,
- Singeing his pate against the burning zone,
- Make Ossa like a wart! Nay, an thou'lt mouth,
- I'll rant as well as thou.
- Queen. This is mere madness;
- And thus a while the fit will work on him.
- Anon, as patient as the female dove
- When that her golden couplets are disclos'd,
- His silence will sit drooping.
- Ham. Hear you, sir!
- What is the reason that you use me thus?
- I lov'd you ever. But it is no matter.
- Let Hercules himself do what he may,
- The cat will mew, and dog will have his day.
-Exit.
- King. I pray thee, good Horatio, wait upon him.
- Exit Horatio.
- [To Laertes] Strengthen your patience in our last night's speech.
- We'll put the matter to the present push.-
- Good Gertrude, set some watch over your son.-
- This grave shall have a living monument.
- An hour of quiet shortly shall we see;
- Till then in patience our proceeding be.
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-Scene II.
-Elsinore. A hall in the Castle.
-
-Enter Hamlet and Horatio.
-
- Ham. So much for this, sir; now shall you see the other.
- You do remember all the circumstance?
- Hor. Remember it, my lord!
- Ham. Sir, in my heart there was a kind of fighting
- That would not let me sleep. Methought I lay
- Worse than the mutinies in the bilboes. Rashly-
- And prais'd be rashness for it; let us know,
- Our indiscretion sometime serves us well
- When our deep plots do pall; and that should learn us
- There's a divinity that shapes our ends,
- Rough-hew them how we will-
- Hor. That is most certain.
- Ham. Up from my cabin,
- My sea-gown scarf'd about me, in the dark
- Grop'd I to find out them; had my desire,
- Finger'd their packet, and in fine withdrew
- To mine own room again; making so bold
- (My fears forgetting manners) to unseal
- Their grand commission; where I found, Horatio
- (O royal knavery!), an exact command,
- Larded with many several sorts of reasons,
- Importing Denmark's health, and England's too,
- With, hoo! such bugs and goblins in my life-
- That, on the supervise, no leisure bated,
- No, not to stay the finding of the axe,
- My head should be struck off.
- Hor. Is't possible?
- Ham. Here's the commission; read it at more leisure.
- But wilt thou bear me how I did proceed?
- Hor. I beseech you.
- Ham. Being thus benetted round with villanies,
- Or I could make a prologue to my brains,
- They had begun the play. I sat me down;
- Devis'd a new commission; wrote it fair.
- I once did hold it, as our statists do,
- A baseness to write fair, and labour'd much
- How to forget that learning; but, sir, now
- It did me yeoman's service. Wilt thou know
- Th' effect of what I wrote?
- Hor. Ay, good my lord.
- Ham. An earnest conjuration from the King,
- As England was his faithful tributary,
- As love between them like the palm might flourish,
- As peace should still her wheaten garland wear
- And stand a comma 'tween their amities,
- And many such-like as's of great charge,
- That, on the view and knowing of these contents,
- Without debatement further, more or less,
- He should the bearers put to sudden death,
- Not shriving time allow'd.
- Hor. How was this seal'd?
- Ham. Why, even in that was heaven ordinant.
- I had my father's signet in my purse,
- which was the model of that Danish seal;
- Folded the writ up in the form of th' other,
- Subscrib'd it, gave't th' impression, plac'd it safely,
- The changeling never known. Now, the next day
- Was our sea-fight; and what to this was sequent
- Thou know'st already.
- Hor. So Guildenstern and Rosencrantz go to't.
- Ham. Why, man, they did make love to this employment!
- They are not near my conscience; their defeat
- Does by their own insinuation grow.
- 'Tis dangerous when the baser nature comes
- Between the pass and fell incensed points
- Of mighty opposites.
- Hor. Why, what a king is this!
- Ham. Does it not, thinks't thee, stand me now upon-
- He that hath kill'd my king, and whor'd my mother;
- Popp'd in between th' election and my hopes;
- Thrown out his angle for my Proper life,
- And with such coz'nage- is't not perfect conscience
- To quit him with this arm? And is't not to be damn'd
- To let this canker of our nature come
- In further evil?
- Hor. It must be shortly known to him from England
- What is the issue of the business there.
- Ham. It will be short; the interim is mine,
- And a man's life is no more than to say 'one.'
- But I am very sorry, good Horatio,
- That to Laertes I forgot myself,
- For by the image of my cause I see
- The portraiture of his. I'll court his favours.
- But sure the bravery of his grief did put me
- Into a tow'ring passion.
- Hor. Peace! Who comes here?
-
- Enter young Osric, a courtier.
-
- Osr. Your lordship is right welcome back to Denmark.
- Ham. I humbly thank you, sir. [Aside to Horatio] Dost know this
- waterfly?
- Hor. [aside to Hamlet] No, my good lord.
- Ham. [aside to Horatio] Thy state is the more gracious; for 'tis a
- vice to know him. He hath much land, and fertile. Let a beast be
- lord of beasts, and his crib shall stand at the king's mess. 'Tis
- a chough; but, as I say, spacious in the possession of dirt.
- Osr. Sweet lord, if your lordship were at leisure, I should impart
- a thing to you from his Majesty.
- Ham. I will receive it, sir, with all diligence of spirit. Put your
- bonnet to his right use. 'Tis for the head.
- Osr. I thank your lordship, it is very hot.
- Ham. No, believe me, 'tis very cold; the wind is northerly.
- Osr. It is indifferent cold, my lord, indeed.
- Ham. But yet methinks it is very sultry and hot for my complexion.
- Osr. Exceedingly, my lord; it is very sultry, as 'twere- I cannot
- tell how. But, my lord, his Majesty bade me signify to you that
- he has laid a great wager on your head. Sir, this is the matter-
- Ham. I beseech you remember.
- [Hamlet moves him to put on his hat.]
- Osr. Nay, good my lord; for mine ease, in good faith. Sir, here is
- newly come to court Laertes; believe me, an absolute gentleman,
- full of most excellent differences, of very soft society and
- great showing. Indeed, to speak feelingly of him, he is the card
- or calendar of gentry; for you shall find in him the continent of
- what part a gentleman would see.
- Ham. Sir, his definement suffers no perdition in you; though, I
- know, to divide him inventorially would dozy th' arithmetic of
- memory, and yet but yaw neither in respect of his quick sail.
- But, in the verity of extolment, I take him to be a soul of great
- article, and his infusion of such dearth and rareness as, to make
- true diction of him, his semblable is his mirror, and who else
- would trace him, his umbrage, nothing more.
- Osr. Your lordship speaks most infallibly of him.
- Ham. The concernancy, sir? Why do we wrap the gentleman in our more
- rawer breath
- Osr. Sir?
- Hor [aside to Hamlet] Is't not possible to understand in another
- tongue? You will do't, sir, really.
- Ham. What imports the nomination of this gentleman
- Osr. Of Laertes?
- Hor. [aside] His purse is empty already. All's golden words are
- spent.
- Ham. Of him, sir.
- Osr. I know you are not ignorant-
- Ham. I would you did, sir; yet, in faith, if you did, it would not
- much approve me. Well, sir?
- Osr. You are not ignorant of what excellence Laertes is-
- Ham. I dare not confess that, lest I should compare with him in
- excellence; but to know a man well were to know himself.
- Osr. I mean, sir, for his weapon; but in the imputation laid on him
- by them, in his meed he's unfellowed.
- Ham. What's his weapon?
- Osr. Rapier and dagger.
- Ham. That's two of his weapons- but well.
- Osr. The King, sir, hath wager'd with him six Barbary horses;
- against the which he has impon'd, as I take it, six French
- rapiers and poniards, with their assigns, as girdle, hangers, and
- so. Three of the carriages, in faith, are very dear to fancy,
- very responsive to the hilts, most delicate carriages, and of
- very liberal conceit.
- Ham. What call you the carriages?
- Hor. [aside to Hamlet] I knew you must be edified by the margent
- ere you had done.
- Osr. The carriages, sir, are the hangers.
- Ham. The phrase would be more germane to the matter if we could
- carry cannon by our sides. I would it might be hangers till then.
- But on! Six Barbary horses against six French swords, their
- assigns, and three liberal-conceited carriages: that's the French
- bet against the Danish. Why is this all impon'd, as you call it?
- Osr. The King, sir, hath laid that, in a dozen passes between
- yourself and him, he shall not exceed you three hits; he hath
- laid on twelve for nine, and it would come to immediate trial
- if your lordship would vouchsafe the answer.
- Ham. How if I answer no?
- Osr. I mean, my lord, the opposition of your person in trial.
- Ham. Sir, I will walk here in the hall. If it please his Majesty,
- it is the breathing time of day with me. Let the foils be
- brought, the gentleman willing, and the King hold his purpose,
- I will win for him if I can; if not, I will gain nothing but my
- shame and the odd hits.
- Osr. Shall I redeliver you e'en so?
- Ham. To this effect, sir, after what flourish your nature will.
- Osr. I commend my duty to your lordship.
- Ham. Yours, yours. [Exit Osric.] He does well to commend it
- himself; there are no tongues else for's turn.
- Hor. This lapwing runs away with the shell on his head.
- Ham. He did comply with his dug before he suck'd it. Thus has he,
- and many more of the same bevy that I know the drossy age dotes
- on, only got the tune of the time and outward habit of encounter-
- a kind of yesty collection, which carries them through and
- through the most fann'd and winnowed opinions; and do but blow
- them to their trial-the bubbles are out,
-
- Enter a Lord.
-
- Lord. My lord, his Majesty commended him to you by young Osric, who
- brings back to him, that you attend him in the hall. He sends to
- know if your pleasure hold to play with Laertes, or that you will
- take longer time.
- Ham. I am constant to my purposes; they follow the King's pleasure.
- If his fitness speaks, mine is ready; now or whensoever, provided
- I be so able as now.
- Lord. The King and Queen and all are coming down.
- Ham. In happy time.
- Lord. The Queen desires you to use some gentle entertainment to
- Laertes before you fall to play.
- Ham. She well instructs me.
- [Exit Lord.]
- Hor. You will lose this wager, my lord.
- Ham. I do not think so. Since he went into France I have been in
- continual practice. I shall win at the odds. But thou wouldst not
- think how ill all's here about my heart. But it is no matter.
- Hor. Nay, good my lord -
- Ham. It is but foolery; but it is such a kind of gaingiving as
- would perhaps trouble a woman.
- Hor. If your mind dislike anything, obey it. I will forestall their
- repair hither and say you are not fit.
- Ham. Not a whit, we defy augury; there's a special providence in
- the fall of a sparrow. If it be now, 'tis not to come', if it be
- not to come, it will be now; if it be not now, yet it will come:
- the readiness is all. Since no man knows aught of what he leaves,
- what is't to leave betimes? Let be.
-
- Enter King, Queen, Laertes, Osric, and Lords, with other
- Attendants with foils and gauntlets.
- A table and flagons of wine on it.
-
- King. Come, Hamlet, come, and take this hand from me.
- [The King puts Laertes' hand into Hamlet's.]
- Ham. Give me your pardon, sir. I have done you wrong;
- But pardon't, as you are a gentleman.
- This presence knows,
- And you must needs have heard, how I am punish'd
- With sore distraction. What I have done
- That might your nature, honour, and exception
- Roughly awake, I here proclaim was madness.
- Was't Hamlet wrong'd Laertes? Never Hamlet.
- If Hamlet from himself be taken away,
- And when he's not himself does wrong Laertes,
- Then Hamlet does it not, Hamlet denies it.
- Who does it, then? His madness. If't be so,
- Hamlet is of the faction that is wrong'd;
- His madness is poor Hamlet's enemy.
- Sir, in this audience,
- Let my disclaiming from a purpos'd evil
- Free me so far in your most generous thoughts
- That I have shot my arrow o'er the house
- And hurt my brother.
- Laer. I am satisfied in nature,
- Whose motive in this case should stir me most
- To my revenge. But in my terms of honour
- I stand aloof, and will no reconcilement
- Till by some elder masters of known honour
- I have a voice and precedent of peace
- To keep my name ungor'd. But till that time
- I do receive your offer'd love like love,
- And will not wrong it.
- Ham. I embrace it freely,
- And will this brother's wager frankly play.
- Give us the foils. Come on.
- Laer. Come, one for me.
- Ham. I'll be your foil, Laertes. In mine ignorance
- Your skill shall, like a star i' th' darkest night,
- Stick fiery off indeed.
- Laer. You mock me, sir.
- Ham. No, by this bad.
- King. Give them the foils, young Osric. Cousin Hamlet,
- You know the wager?
- Ham. Very well, my lord.
- Your Grace has laid the odds o' th' weaker side.
- King. I do not fear it, I have seen you both;
- But since he is better'd, we have therefore odds.
- Laer. This is too heavy; let me see another.
- Ham. This likes me well. These foils have all a length?
- Prepare to play.
- Osr. Ay, my good lord.
- King. Set me the stoups of wine upon that table.
- If Hamlet give the first or second hit,
- Or quit in answer of the third exchange,
- Let all the battlements their ordnance fire;
- The King shall drink to Hamlet's better breath,
- And in the cup an union shall he throw
- Richer than that which four successive kings
- In Denmark's crown have worn. Give me the cups;
- And let the kettle to the trumpet speak,
- The trumpet to the cannoneer without,
- The cannons to the heavens, the heaven to earth,
- 'Now the King drinks to Hamlet.' Come, begin.
- And you the judges, bear a wary eye.
- Ham. Come on, sir.
- Laer. Come, my lord. They play.
- Ham. One.
- Laer. No.
- Ham. Judgment!
- Osr. A hit, a very palpable hit.
- Laer. Well, again!
- King. Stay, give me drink. Hamlet, this pearl is thine;
- Here's to thy health.
- [Drum; trumpets sound; a piece goes off [within].
- Give him the cup.
- Ham. I'll play this bout first; set it by awhile.
- Come. (They play.) Another hit. What say you?
- Laer. A touch, a touch; I do confess't.
- King. Our son shall win.
- Queen. He's fat, and scant of breath.
- Here, Hamlet, take my napkin, rub thy brows.
- The Queen carouses to thy fortune, Hamlet.
- Ham. Good madam!
- King. Gertrude, do not drink.
- Queen. I will, my lord; I pray you pardon me. Drinks.
- King. [aside] It is the poison'd cup; it is too late.
- Ham. I dare not drink yet, madam; by-and-by.
- Queen. Come, let me wipe thy face.
- Laer. My lord, I'll hit him now.
- King. I do not think't.
- Laer. [aside] And yet it is almost against my conscience.
- Ham. Come for the third, Laertes! You but dally.
- pray You Pass with your best violence;
- I am afeard You make a wanton of me.
- Laer. Say you so? Come on. Play.
- Osr. Nothing neither way.
- Laer. Have at you now!
- [Laertes wounds Hamlet; then] in scuffling, they
- change rapiers, [and Hamlet wounds Laertes].
- King. Part them! They are incens'd.
- Ham. Nay come! again! The Queen falls.
- Osr. Look to the Queen there, ho!
- Hor. They bleed on both sides. How is it, my lord?
- Osr. How is't, Laertes?
- Laer. Why, as a woodcock to mine own springe, Osric.
- I am justly kill'd with mine own treachery.
- Ham. How does the Queen?
- King. She sounds to see them bleed.
- Queen. No, no! the drink, the drink! O my dear Hamlet!
- The drink, the drink! I am poison'd. [Dies.]
- Ham. O villany! Ho! let the door be lock'd.
- Treachery! Seek it out.
- [Laertes falls.]
- Laer. It is here, Hamlet. Hamlet, thou art slain;
- No medicine in the world can do thee good.
- In thee there is not half an hour of life.
- The treacherous instrument is in thy hand,
- Unbated and envenom'd. The foul practice
- Hath turn'd itself on me. Lo, here I lie,
- Never to rise again. Thy mother's poison'd.
- I can no more. The King, the King's to blame.
- Ham. The point envenom'd too?
- Then, venom, to thy work. Hurts the King.
- All. Treason! treason!
- King. O, yet defend me, friends! I am but hurt.
- Ham. Here, thou incestuous, murd'rous, damned Dane,
- Drink off this potion! Is thy union here?
- Follow my mother. King dies.
- Laer. He is justly serv'd.
- It is a poison temper'd by himself.
- Exchange forgiveness with me, noble Hamlet.
- Mine and my father's death come not upon thee,
- Nor thine on me! Dies.
- Ham. Heaven make thee free of it! I follow thee.
- I am dead, Horatio. Wretched queen, adieu!
- You that look pale and tremble at this chance,
- That are but mutes or audience to this act,
- Had I but time (as this fell sergeant, Death,
- Is strict in his arrest) O, I could tell you-
- But let it be. Horatio, I am dead;
- Thou liv'st; report me and my cause aright
- To the unsatisfied.
- Hor. Never believe it.
- I am more an antique Roman than a Dane.
- Here's yet some liquor left.
- Ham. As th'art a man,
- Give me the cup. Let go! By heaven, I'll ha't.
- O good Horatio, what a wounded name
- (Things standing thus unknown) shall live behind me!
- If thou didst ever hold me in thy heart,
- Absent thee from felicity awhile,
- And in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain,
- To tell my story. [March afar off, and shot within.]
- What warlike noise is this?
- Osr. Young Fortinbras, with conquest come from Poland,
- To the ambassadors of England gives
- This warlike volley.
- Ham. O, I die, Horatio!
- The potent poison quite o'ercrows my spirit.
- I cannot live to hear the news from England,
- But I do prophesy th' election lights
- On Fortinbras. He has my dying voice.
- So tell him, with th' occurrents, more and less,
- Which have solicited- the rest is silence. Dies.
- Hor. Now cracks a noble heart. Good night, sweet prince,
- And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!
- [March within.]
- Why does the drum come hither?
-
- Enter Fortinbras and English Ambassadors, with Drum,
- Colours, and Attendants.
-
- Fort. Where is this sight?
- Hor. What is it you will see?
- If aught of woe or wonder, cease your search.
- Fort. This quarry cries on havoc. O proud Death,
- What feast is toward in thine eternal cell
- That thou so many princes at a shot
- So bloodily hast struck.
- Ambassador. The sight is dismal;
- And our affairs from England come too late.
- The ears are senseless that should give us bearing
- To tell him his commandment is fulfill'd
- That Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are dead.
- Where should We have our thanks?
- Hor. Not from his mouth,
- Had it th' ability of life to thank you.
- He never gave commandment for their death.
- But since, so jump upon this bloody question,
- You from the Polack wars, and you from England,
- Are here arriv'd, give order that these bodies
- High on a stage be placed to the view;
- And let me speak to the yet unknowing world
- How these things came about. So shall You hear
- Of carnal, bloody and unnatural acts;
- Of accidental judgments, casual slaughters;
- Of deaths put on by cunning and forc'd cause;
- And, in this upshot, purposes mistook
- Fall'n on th' inventors' heads. All this can I
- Truly deliver.
- Fort. Let us haste to hear it,
- And call the noblest to the audience.
- For me, with sorrow I embrace my fortune.
- I have some rights of memory in this kingdom
- Which now, to claim my vantage doth invite me.
- Hor. Of that I shall have also cause to speak,
- And from his mouth whose voice will draw on more.
- But let this same be presently perform'd,
- Even while men's minds are wild, lest more mischance
- On plots and errors happen.
- Fort. Let four captains
- Bear Hamlet like a soldier to the stage;
- For he was likely, had he been put on,
- To have prov'd most royally; and for his passage
- The soldiers' music and the rites of war
- Speak loudly for him.
- Take up the bodies. Such a sight as this
- Becomes the field but here shows much amiss.
- Go, bid the soldiers shoot.
- Exeunt marching; after the which a peal of ordnance
- are shot off.
-
-
-THE END
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
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-
-
-
-
-
-1598
-
-THE FIRST PART OF KING HENRY THE FOURTH
-
-
-by William Shakespeare
-
-
-
-Dramatis Personae
-
- King Henry the Fourth.
- Henry, Prince of Wales, son to the King.
- Prince John of Lancaster, son to the King.
- Earl of Westmoreland.
- Sir Walter Blunt.
- Thomas Percy, Earl of Worcester.
- Henry Percy, Earl of Northumberland.
- Henry Percy, surnamed Hotspur, his son.
- Edmund Mortimer, Earl of March.
- Richard Scroop, Archbishop of York.
- Archibald, Earl of Douglas.
- Owen Glendower.
- Sir Richard Vernon.
- Sir John Falstaff.
- Sir Michael, a friend to the Archbishop of York.
- Poins.
- Gadshill
- Peto.
- Bardolph.
-
- Lady Percy, wife to Hotspur, and sister to Mortimer.
- Lady Mortimer, daughter to Glendower, and wife to Mortimer.
- Mistress Quickly, hostess of the Boar's Head in Eastcheap.
-
- Lords, Officers, Sheriff, Vintner, Chamberlain, Drawers, two
- Carriers, Travellers, and Attendants.
-
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-SCENE.--England and Wales.
-
-
-ACT I. Scene I.
-London. The Palace.
-
-Enter the King, Lord John of Lancaster, Earl of Westmoreland,
-[Sir Walter Blunt,] with others.
-
- King. So shaken as we are, so wan with care,
- Find we a time for frighted peace to pant
- And breathe short-winded accents of new broils
- To be commenc'd in stronds afar remote.
- No more the thirsty entrance of this soil
- Shall daub her lips with her own children's blood.
- No more shall trenching war channel her fields,
- Nor Bruise her flow'rets with the armed hoofs
- Of hostile paces. Those opposed eyes
- Which, like the meteors of a troubled heaven,
- All of one nature, of one substance bred,
- Did lately meet in the intestine shock
- And furious close of civil butchery,
- Shall now in mutual well-beseeming ranks
- March all one way and be no more oppos'd
- Against acquaintance, kindred, and allies.
- The edge of war, like an ill-sheathed knife,
- No more shall cut his master. Therefore, friends,
- As far as to the sepulchre of Christ-
- Whose soldier now, under whose blessed cross
- We are impressed and engag'd to fight-
- Forthwith a power of English shall we levy,
- Whose arms were moulded in their mother's womb
- To chase these pagans in those holy fields
- Over whose acres walk'd those blessed feet
- Which fourteen hundred years ago were nail'd
- For our advantage on the bitter cross.
- But this our purpose now is twelvemonth old,
- And bootless 'tis to tell you we will go.
- Therefore we meet not now. Then let me hear
- Of you, my gentle cousin Westmoreland,
- What yesternight our Council did decree
- In forwarding this dear expedience.
- West. My liege, this haste was hot in question
- And many limits of the charge set down
- But yesternight; when all athwart there came
- A post from Wales, loaden with heavy news;
- Whose worst was that the noble Mortimer,
- Leading the men of Herefordshire to fight
- Against the irregular and wild Glendower,
- Was by the rude hands of that Welshman taken,
- A thousand of his people butchered;
- Upon whose dead corpse there was such misuse,
- Such beastly shameless transformation,
- By those Welshwomen done as may not be
- Without much shame retold or spoken of.
- King. It seems then that the tidings of this broil
- Brake off our business for the Holy Land.
- West. This, match'd with other, did, my gracious lord;
- For more uneven and unwelcome news
- Came from the North, and thus it did import:
- On Holy-rood Day the gallant Hotspur there,
- Young Harry Percy, and brave Archibald,
- That ever-valiant and approved Scot,
- At Holmedon met,
- Where they did spend a sad and bloody hour;
- As by discharge of their artillery
- And shape of likelihood the news was told;
- For he that brought them, in the very heat
- And pride of their contention did take horse,
- Uncertain of the issue any way.
- King. Here is a dear, a true-industrious friend,
- Sir Walter Blunt, new lighted from his horse,
- Stain'd with the variation of each soil
- Betwixt that Holmedon and this seat of ours,
- And he hath brought us smooth and welcome news.
- The Earl of Douglas is discomfited;
- Ten thousand bold Scots, two-and-twenty knights,
- Balk'd in their own blood did Sir Walter see
- On Holmedon's plains. Of prisoners, Hotspur took
- Mordake Earl of Fife and eldest son
- To beaten Douglas, and the Earl of Athol,
- Of Murray, Angus, and Menteith.
- And is not this an honourable spoil?
- A gallant prize? Ha, cousin, is it not?
- West. In faith,
- It is a conquest for a prince to boast of.
- King. Yea, there thou mak'st me sad, and mak'st me sin
- In envy that my Lord Northumberland
- Should be the father to so blest a son-
- A son who is the theme of honour's tongue,
- Amongst a grove the very straightest plant;
- Who is sweet Fortune's minion and her pride;
- Whilst I, by looking on the praise of him,
- See riot and dishonour stain the brow
- Of my young Harry. O that it could be prov'd
- That some night-tripping fairy had exchang'd
- In cradle clothes our children where they lay,
- And call'd mine Percy, his Plantagenet!
- Then would I have his Harry, and he mine.
- But let him from my thoughts. What think you, coz,
- Of this young Percy's pride? The prisoners
- Which he in this adventure hath surpris'd
- To his own use he keeps, and sends me word
- I shall have none but Mordake Earl of Fife.
- West. This is his uncle's teaching, this Worcester,
- Malevolent to you In all aspects,
- Which makes him prune himself and bristle up
- The crest of youth against your dignity.
- King. But I have sent for him to answer this;
- And for this cause awhile we must neglect
- Our holy purpose to Jerusalem.
- Cousin, on Wednesday next our council we
- Will hold at Windsor. So inform the lords;
- But come yourself with speed to us again;
- For more is to be said and to be done
- Than out of anger can be uttered.
- West. I will my liege. Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-Scene II.
-London. An apartment of the Prince's.
-
-Enter Prince of Wales and Sir John Falstaff.
-
- Fal. Now, Hal, what time of day is it, lad?
- Prince. Thou art so fat-witted with drinking of old sack, and
- unbuttoning thee after supper, and sleeping upon benches after
- noon, that thou hast forgotten to demand that truly which thou
- wouldest truly know. What a devil hast thou to do with the time
- of the day, Unless hours were cups of sack, and minutes capons,
- and clocks the tongues of bawds, and dials the signs of leaping
- houses, and the blessed sun himself a fair hot wench in
- flame-coloured taffeta, I see no reason why thou shouldst be so
- superfluous to demand the time of the day.
- Fal. Indeed you come near me now, Hal; for we that take purses go
- by the moon And the seven stars, and not by Phoebus, he, that
- wand'ring knight so fair. And I prithee, sweet wag, when thou art
- king, as, God save thy Grace-Majesty I should say, for grace thou
- wilt have none-
- Prince. What, none?
- Fal. No, by my troth; not so much as will serve to be prologue to
- an egg and butter.
- Prince. Well, how then? Come, roundly, roundly.
- Fal. Marry, then, sweet wag, when thou art king, let not us that
- are squires of the night's body be called thieves of the day's
- beauty. Let us be Diana's Foresters, Gentlemen of the Shade,
- Minions of the Moon; and let men say we be men of good
- government, being governed as the sea is, by our noble and chaste
- mistress the moon, under whose countenance we steal.
- Prince. Thou sayest well, and it holds well too; for the fortune of
- us that are the moon's men doth ebb and flow like the sea, being
- governed, as the sea is, by the moon. As, for proof now: a purse
- of gold most resolutely snatch'd on Monday night and most
- dissolutely spent on Tuesday morning; got with swearing 'Lay by,'
- and spent with crying 'Bring in'; now ill as low an ebb as the
- foot of the ladder, and by-and-by in as high a flow as the ridge
- of the gallows.
- Fal. By the Lord, thou say'st true, lad- and is not my hostess of
- the tavern a most sweet wench?
- Prince. As the honey of Hybla, my old lad of the castle- and is not
- a buff jerkin a most sweet robe of durance?
- Fal. How now, how now, mad wag? What, in thy quips and thy
- quiddities? What a plague have I to do with a buff jerkin?
- Prince. Why, what a pox have I to do with my hostess of the tavern?
- Fal. Well, thou hast call'd her to a reckoning many a time and oft.
- Prince. Did I ever call for thee to pay thy part?
- Fal. No; I'll give thee thy due, thou hast paid all there.
- Prince. Yea, and elsewhere, so far as my coin would stretch; and
- where it would not, I have used my credit.
- Fal. Yea, and so us'd it that, were it not here apparent that thou
- art heir apparent- But I prithee, sweet wag, shall there be
- gallows standing in England when thou art king? and resolution
- thus fubb'd as it is with the rusty curb of old father antic the
- law? Do not thou, when thou art king, hang a thief.
- Prince. No; thou shalt.
- Fal. Shall I? O rare! By the Lord, I'll be a brave judge.
- Prince. Thou judgest false already. I mean, thou shalt have the
- hanging of the thieves and so become a rare hangman.
- Fal. Well, Hal, well; and in some sort it jumps with my humour as
- well as waiting in the court, I can tell you.
- Prince. For obtaining of suits?
- Fal. Yea, for obtaining of suits, whereof the hangman hath no lean
- wardrobe. 'Sblood, I am as melancholy as a gib-cat or a lugg'd
- bear.
- Prince. Or an old lion, or a lover's lute.
- Fal. Yea, or the drone of a Lincolnshire bagpipe.
- Prince. What sayest thou to a hare, or the melancholy of Moor
- Ditch?
- Fal. Thou hast the most unsavoury similes, and art indeed the most
- comparative, rascalliest, sweet young prince. But, Hal, I prithee
- trouble me no more with vanity. I would to God thou and I knew
- where a commodity of good names were to be bought. An old lord of
- the Council rated me the other day in the street about you, sir,
- but I mark'd him not; and yet he talked very wisely, but I
- regarded him not; and yet he talk'd wisely, and in the street
- too.
- Prince. Thou didst well; for wisdom cries out in the streets, and
- no man regards it.
- Fal. O, thou hast damnable iteration, and art indeed able to
- corrupt a saint. Thou hast done much harm upon me, Hal- God
- forgive thee for it! Before I knew thee, Hal, I knew nothing; and
- now am I, if a man should speak truly, little better than one of
- the wicked. I must give over this life, and I will give it over!
- By the Lord, an I do not, I am a villain! I'll be damn'd for
- never a king's son in Christendom.
- Prince. Where shall we take a purse tomorrow, Jack?
- Fal. Zounds, where thou wilt, lad! I'll make one. An I do not, call
- me villain and baffle me.
- Prince. I see a good amendment of life in thee- from praying to
- purse-taking.
- Fal. Why, Hal, 'tis my vocation, Hal. 'Tis no sin for a man to
- labour in his vocation.
-
- Enter Poins.
-
- Poins! Now shall we know if Gadshill have set a match. O, if men
- were to be saved by merit, what hole in hell were hot enough for
- him? This is the most omnipotent villain that ever cried 'Stand!'
- to a true man.
- Prince. Good morrow, Ned.
- Poins. Good morrow, sweet Hal. What says Monsieur Remorse? What
- says Sir John Sack and Sugar? Jack, how agrees the devil and thee
- about thy soul, that thou soldest him on Good Friday last for a
- cup of Madeira and a cold capon's leg?
- Prince. Sir John stands to his word, the devil shall have his
- bargain; for he was never yet a breaker of proverbs. He will give
- the devil his due.
- Poins. Then art thou damn'd for keeping thy word with the devil.
- Prince. Else he had been damn'd for cozening the devil.
- Poins. But, my lads, my lads, to-morrow morning, by four o'clock
- early, at Gadshill! There are pilgrims gong to Canterbury with
- rich offerings, and traders riding to London with fat purses. I
- have vizards for you all; you have horses for yourselves.
- Gadshill lies to-night in Rochester. I have bespoke supper
- to-morrow night in Eastcheap. We may do it as secure as sleep. If
- you will go, I will stuff your purses full of crowns; if you will
- not, tarry at home and be hang'd!
- Fal. Hear ye, Yedward: if I tarry at home and go not, I'll hang you
- for going.
- Poins. You will, chops?
- Fal. Hal, wilt thou make one?
- Prince. Who, I rob? I a thief? Not I, by my faith.
- Fal. There's neither honesty, manhood, nor good fellowship in thee,
- nor thou cam'st not of the blood royal if thou darest not stand
- for ten shillings.
- Prince. Well then, once in my days I'll be a madcap.
- Fal. Why, that's well said.
- Prince. Well, come what will, I'll tarry at home.
- Fal. By the Lord, I'll be a traitor then, when thou art king.
- Prince. I care not.
- Poins. Sir John, I prithee, leave the Prince and me alone. I will
- lay him down such reasons for this adventure that he shall go.
- Fal. Well, God give thee the spirit of persuasion and him the ears
- of profiting, that what thou speakest may move and what he hears
- may be believed, that the true prince may (for recreation sake)
- prove a false thief; for the poor abuses of the time want
- countenance. Farewell; you shall find me in Eastcheap.
- Prince. Farewell, thou latter spring! farewell, All-hallown summer!
- Exit Falstaff.
- Poins. Now, my good sweet honey lord, ride with us to-morrow. I
- have a jest to execute that I cannot manage alone. Falstaff,
- Bardolph, Peto, and Gadshill shall rob those men that we have
- already waylaid; yourself and I will not be there; and when they
- have the booty, if you and I do not rob them, cut this head off
- from my shoulders.
- Prince. How shall we part with them in setting forth?
- Poins. Why, we will set forth before or after them and appoint them
- a place of meeting, wherein it is at our pleasure to fail; and
- then will they adventure upon the exploit themselves; which they
- shall have no sooner achieved, but we'll set upon them.
- Prince. Yea, but 'tis like that they will know us by our horses, by
- our habits, and by every other appointment, to be ourselves.
- Poins. Tut! our horses they shall not see- I'll tie them in the
- wood; our wizards we will change after we leave them; and,
- sirrah, I have cases of buckram for the nonce, to immask our
- noted outward garments.
- Prince. Yea, but I doubt they will be too hard for us.
- Poins. Well, for two of them, I know them to be as true-bred
- cowards as ever turn'd back; and for the third, if he fight
- longer than he sees reason, I'll forswear arms. The virtue of
- this jest will lie the incomprehensible lies that this same fat
- rogue will tell us when we meet at supper: how thirty, at least,
- he fought with; what wards, what blows, what extremities he
- endured; and in the reproof of this lies the jest.
- Prince. Well, I'll go with thee. Provide us all things necessary
- and meet me to-night in Eastcheap. There I'll sup. Farewell.
- Poins. Farewell, my lord. Exit.
- Prince. I know you all, and will awhile uphold
- The unyok'd humour of your idleness.
- Yet herein will I imitate the sun,
- Who doth permit the base contagious clouds
- To smother up his beauty from the world,
- That, when he please again to lie himself,
- Being wanted, he may be more wond'red at
- By breaking through the foul and ugly mists
- Of vapours that did seem to strangle him.
- If all the year were playing holidays,
- To sport would be as tedious as to work;
- But when they seldom come, they wish'd-for come,
- And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents.
- So, when this loose behaviour I throw off
- And pay the debt I never promised,
- By how much better than my word I am,
- By so much shall I falsify men's hopes;
- And, like bright metal on a sullen ground,
- My reformation, glitt'ring o'er my fault,
- Shall show more goodly and attract more eyes
- Than that which hath no foil to set it off.
- I'll so offend to make offence a skill,
- Redeeming time when men think least I will. Exit.
-
-
-
-
-Scene III.
-London. The Palace.
-
-Enter the King, Northumberland, Worcester, Hotspur, Sir Walter Blunt,
-with others.
-
- King. My blood hath been too cold and temperate,
- Unapt to stir at these indignities,
- And you have found me, for accordingly
- You tread upon my patience; but be sure
- I will from henceforth rather be myself,
- Mighty and to be fear'd, than my condition,
- Which hath been smooth as oil, soft as young down,
- And therefore lost that title of respect
- Which the proud soul ne'er pays but to the proud.
- Wor. Our house, my sovereign liege, little deserves
- The scourge of greatness to be us'd on it-
- And that same greatness too which our own hands
- Have holp to make so portly.
- North. My lord-
- King. Worcester, get thee gone; for I do see
- Danger and disobedience in thine eye.
- O, sir, your presence is too bold and peremptory,
- And majesty might never yet endure
- The moody frontier of a servant brow.
- Tou have good leave to leave us. When we need
- 'Your use and counsel, we shall send for you.
- Exit Worcester.
- You were about to speak.
- North. Yea, my good lord.
- Those prisoners in your Highness' name demanded
- Which Harry Percy here at Holmedon took,
- Were, as he says, not with such strength denied
- As is delivered to your Majesty.
- Either envy, therefore, or misprision
- Is guilty of this fault, and not my son.
- Hot. My liege, I did deny no prisoners.
- But I remember, when the fight was done,
- When I was dry with rage and extreme toll,
- Breathless and faint, leaning upon my sword,
- Came there a certain lord, neat and trimly dress'd,
- Fresh as a bridegroom; and his chin new reap'd
- Show'd like a stubble land at harvest home.
- He was perfumed like a milliner,
- And 'twixt his finger and his thumb he held
- A pouncet box, which ever and anon
- He gave his nose, and took't away again;
- Who therewith angry, when it next came there,
- Took it in snuff; and still he smil'd and talk'd;
- And as the soldiers bore dead bodies by,
- He call'd them untaught knaves, unmannerly,
- To bring a slovenly unhandsome corse
- Betwixt the wind and his nobility.
- With many holiday and lady terms
- He questioned me, amongst the rest demanded
- My prisoners in your Majesty's behalf.
- I then, all smarting with my wounds being cold,
- To be so pest'red with a popingay,
- Out of my grief and my impatience
- Answer'd neglectingly, I know not what-
- He should, or he should not; for he made me mad
- To see him shine so brisk, and smell so sweet,
- And talk so like a waiting gentlewoman
- Of guns and drums and wounds- God save the mark!-
- And telling me the sovereignest thing on earth
- Was parmacity for an inward bruise;
- And that it was great pity, so it was,
- This villanous saltpetre should be digg'd
- Out of the bowels of the harmless earth,
- Which many a good tall fellow had destroy'd
- So cowardly; and but for these vile 'guns,
- He would himself have been a soldier.
- This bald unjointed chat of his, my lord,
- I answered indirectly, as I said,
- And I beseech you, let not his report
- Come current for an accusation
- Betwixt my love and your high majesty.
- Blunt. The circumstance considered, good my lord,
- Whate'er Lord Harry Percy then had said
- To such a person, and in such a place,
- At such a time, with all the rest retold,
- May reasonably die, and never rise
- To do him wrong, or any way impeach
- What then he said, so he unsay it now.
- King. Why, yet he doth deny his prisoners,
- But with proviso and exception,
- That we at our own charge shall ransom straight
- His brother-in-law, the foolish Mortimer;
- Who, on my soul, hath wilfully betray'd
- The lives of those that he did lead to fight
- Against that great magician, damn'd Glendower,
- Whose daughter, as we hear, the Earl of March
- Hath lately married. Shall our coffers, then,
- Be emptied to redeem a traitor home?
- Shall we buy treason? and indent with fears
- When they have lost and forfeited themselves?
- No, on the barren mountains let him starve!
- For I shall never hold that man my friend
- Whose tongue shall ask me for one penny cost
- To ransom home revolted Mortimer.
- Hot. Revolted Mortimer?
- He never did fall off, my sovereign liege,
- But by the chance of war. To prove that true
- Needs no more but one tongue for all those wounds,
- Those mouthed wounds, which valiantly he took
- When on the gentle Severn's sedgy bank,
- In single opposition hand to hand,
- He did confound the best part of an hour
- In changing hardiment with great Glendower.
- Three times they breath'd, and three times did they drink,
- Upon agreement, of swift Severn's flood;
- Who then, affrighted with their bloody looks,
- Ran fearfully among the trembling reeds
- And hid his crisp head in the hollow bank,
- Bloodstained with these valiant cohabitants.
- Never did base and rotten policy
- Colour her working with such deadly wounds;
- Nor never could the noble Mortimer
- Receive so many, and all willingly.
- Then let not him be slandered with revolt.
- King. Thou dost belie him, Percy, thou dost belie him!
- He never did encounter with Glendower.
- I tell thee
- He durst as well have met the devil alone
- As Owen Glendower for an enemy.
- Art thou not asham'd? But, sirrah, henceforth
- Let me not hear you speak of Mortimer.
- Send me your prisoners with the speediest means,
- Or you shall hear in such a kind from me
- As will displease you. My Lord Northumberland,
- We license your departure with your son.-
- Send us your prisoners, or you will hear of it.
- Exeunt King, [Blunt, and Train]
- Hot. An if the devil come and roar for them,
- I will not send them. I will after straight
- And tell him so; for I will else my heart,
- Albeit I make a hazard of my head.
- North. What, drunk with choler? Stay, and pause awhile.
- Here comes your uncle.
-
- Enter Worcester.
-
- Hot. Speak of Mortimer?
- Zounds, I will speak of him, and let my soul
- Want mercy if I do not join with him!
- Yea, on his part I'll empty all these veins,
- And shed my dear blood drop by drop in the dust,
- But I will lift the downtrod Mortimer
- As high in the air as this unthankful king,
- As this ingrate and cank'red Bolingbroke.
- North. Brother, the King hath made your nephew mad.
- Wor. Who struck this heat up after I was gone?
- Hot. He will (forsooth) have all my prisoners;
- And when I urg'd the ransom once again
- Of my wive's brother, then his cheek look'd pale,
- And on my face he turn'd an eye of death,
- Trembling even at the name of Mortimer.
- Wor. I cannot blame him. Was not he proclaim'd
- By Richard that dead is, the next of blood?
- North. He was; I heard the proclamation.
- And then it was when the unhappy King
- (Whose wrongs in us God pardon!) did set forth
- Upon his Irish expedition;
- From whence he intercepted did return
- To be depos'd, and shortly murdered.
- Wor. And for whose death we in the world's wide mouth
- Live scandaliz'd and foully spoken of.
- Hot. But soft, I pray you. Did King Richard then
- Proclaim my brother Edmund Mortimer
- Heir to the crown?
- North. He did; myself did hear it.
- Hot. Nay, then I cannot blame his cousin king,
- That wish'd him on the barren mountains starve.
- But shall it be that you, that set the crown
- Upon the head of this forgetful man,
- And for his sake wear the detested blot
- Of murtherous subornation- shall it be
- That you a world of curses undergo,
- Being the agents or base second means,
- The cords, the ladder, or the hangman rather?
- O, pardon me that I descend so low
- To show the line and the predicament
- Wherein you range under this subtile king!
- Shall it for shame be spoken in these days,
- Or fill up chronicles in time to come,
- That men of your nobility and power
- Did gage them both in an unjust behalf
- (As both of you, God pardon it! have done)
- To put down Richard, that sweet lovely rose,
- And plant this thorn, this canker, Bolingbroke?
- And shall it in more shame be further spoken
- That you are fool'd, discarded, and shook off
- By him for whom these shames ye underwent?
- No! yet time serves wherein you may redeem
- Your banish'd honours and restore yourselves
- Into the good thoughts of the world again;
- Revenge the jeering and disdain'd contempt
- Of this proud king, who studies day and night
- To answer all the debt he owes to you
- Even with the bloody payment of your deaths.
- Therefore I say-
- Wor. Peace, cousin, say no more;
- And now, I will unclasp a secret book,
- And to your quick-conceiving discontents
- I'll read you matter deep and dangerous,
- As full of peril and adventurous spirit
- As to o'erwalk a current roaring loud
- On the unsteadfast footing of a spear.
- Hot. If he fall in, good night, or sink or swim!
- Send danger from the east unto the west,
- So honour cross it from the north to south,
- And let them grapple. O, the blood more stirs
- To rouse a lion than to start a hare!
- North. Imagination of some great exploit
- Drives him beyond the bounds of patience.
- Hot. By heaven, methinks it were an easy leap
- To pluck bright honour from the pale-fac'd moon,
- Or dive into the bottom of the deep,
- Where fadom line could never touch the ground,
- And pluck up drowned honour by the locks,
- So he that doth redeem her thence might wear
- Without corrival all her dignities;
- But out upon this half-fac'd fellowship!
- Wor. He apprehends a world of figures here,
- But not the form of what he should attend.
- Good cousin, give me audience for a while.
- Hot. I cry you mercy.
- Wor. Those same noble Scots
- That are your prisoners-
- Hot. I'll keep them all.
- By God, he shall not have a Scot of them!
- No, if a Scot would save his soul, he shall not.
- I'll keep them, by this hand!
- Wor. You start away.
- And lend no ear unto my purposes.
- Those prisoners you shall keep.
- Hot. Nay, I will! That is flat!
- He said he would not ransom Mortimer,
- Forbade my tongue to speak of Mortimer,
- But I will find him when he lies asleep,
- And in his ear I'll holloa 'Mortimer.'
- Nay;
- I'll have a starling shall be taught to speak
- Nothing but 'Mortimer,' and give it him
- To keep his anger still in motion.
- Wor. Hear you, cousin, a word.
- Hot. All studies here I solemnly defy
- Save how to gall and pinch this Bolingbroke;
- And that same sword-and-buckler Prince of Wales-
- But that I think his father loves him not
- And would be glad he met with some mischance,
- I would have him poisoned with a pot of ale.
- Wor. Farewell, kinsman. I will talk to you
- When you are better temper'd to attend.
- North. Why, what a wasp-stung and impatient fool
- Art thou to break into this woman's mood,
- Tying thine ear to no tongue but thine own!
- Hot. Why, look you, I am whipp'd and scourg'd with rods,
- Nettled, and stung with pismires when I hear
- Of this vile politician, Bolingbroke.
- In Richard's time- what do you call the place-
- A plague upon it! it is in GIoucestershire-
- 'Twas where the madcap Duke his uncle kept-
- His uncle York- where I first bow'd my knee
- Unto this king of smiles, this Bolingbroke-
- 'S blood!
- When you and he came back from Ravenspurgh-
- North. At Berkeley Castle.
- Hot. You say true.
- Why, what a candy deal of courtesy
- This fawning greyhound then did proffer me!
- Look, 'when his infant fortune came to age,'
- And 'gentle Harry Percy,' and 'kind cousin'-
- O, the devil take such cozeners!- God forgive me!
- Good uncle, tell your tale, for I have done.
- Wor. Nay, if you have not, to it again.
- We will stay your leisure.
- Hot. I have done, i' faith.
- Wor. Then once more to your Scottish prisoners.
- Deliver them up without their ransom straight,
- And make the Douglas' son your only mean
- For powers In Scotland; which, for divers reasons
- Which I shall send you written, be assur'd
- Will easily be granted. [To Northumberland] You, my lord,
- Your son in Scotland being thus employ'd,
- Shall secretly into the bosom creep
- Of that same noble prelate well-belov'd,
- The Archbishop.
- Hot. Of York, is it not?
- Wor. True; who bears hard
- His brother's death at Bristow, the Lord Scroop.
- I speak not this in estimation,
- As what I think might be, but what I know
- Is ruminated, plotted, and set down,
- And only stays but to behold the face
- Of that occasion that shall bring it on.
- Hot. I smell it. Upon my life, it will do well.
- North. Before the game is afoot thou still let'st slip.
- Hot. Why, it cannot choose but be a noble plot.
- And then the power of Scotland and of York
- To join with Mortimer, ha?
- Wor. And so they shall.
- Hot. In faith, it is exceedingly well aim'd.
- Wor. And 'tis no little reason bids us speed,
- To save our heads by raising of a head;
- For, bear ourselves as even as we can,
- The King will always think him in our debt,
- And think we think ourselves unsatisfied,
- Till he hath found a time to pay us home.
- And see already how he doth begin
- To make us strangers to his looks of love.
- Hot. He does, he does! We'll be reveng'd on him.
- Wor. Cousin, farewell. No further go in this
- Than I by letters shall direct your course.
- When time is ripe, which will be suddenly,
- I'll steal to Glendower and Lord Mortimer,
- Where you and Douglas, and our pow'rs at once,
- As I will fashion it, shall happily meet,
- To bear our fortunes in our own strong arms,
- Which now we hold at much uncertainty.
- North. Farewell, good brother. We shall thrive, I trust.
- Hot. Uncle, adieu. O, let the hours be short
- Till fields and blows and groans applaud our sport! Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT II. Scene I.
-Rochester. An inn yard.
-
-Enter a Carrier with a lantern in his hand.
-
- 1. Car. Heigh-ho! an it be not four by the day, I'll be hang'd.
- Charles' wain is over the new chimney, and yet our horse not
- pack'd.- What, ostler!
- Ost. [within] Anon, anon.
- 1. Car. I prithee, Tom, beat Cut's saddle, put a few flocks in the
- point. Poor jade is wrung in the withers out of all cess.
-
- Enter another Carrier.
-
- 2. Car. Peas and beans are as dank here as a dog, and that is the
- next way to give poor jades the bots. This house is turned upside
- down since Robin Ostler died.
- 1. Car. Poor fellow never joyed since the price of oats rose. It
- was the death of him.
- 2. Car. I think this be the most villanous house in all London road
- for fleas. I am stung like a tench.
- 1. Car. Like a tench I By the mass, there is ne'er a king christen
- could be better bit than I have been since the first cock.
- 2. Car. Why, they will allow us ne'er a jordan, and then we leak in
- your chimney, and your chamber-lye breeds fleas like a loach.
- 1. Car. What, ostler! come away and be hang'd! come away!
- 2. Car. I have a gammon of bacon and two razes of ginger, to be
- delivered as far as Charing Cross.
- 1. Car. God's body! the turkeys in my pannier are quite starved.
- What, ostler! A plague on thee! hast thou never an eye in thy
- head? Canst not hear? An 'twere not as good deed as drink to
- break the pate on thee, I am a very villain. Come, and be hang'd!
- Hast no faith in thee?
-
- Enter Gadshill.
-
- Gads. Good morrow, carriers. What's o'clock?
- 1. Car. I think it be two o'clock.
- Gads. I prithee lend me this lantern to see my gelding in the
- stable.
- 1. Car. Nay, by God, soft! I know a trick worth two of that,
- i' faith.
- Gads. I pray thee lend me thine.
- 2. Car. Ay, when? canst tell? Lend me thy lantern, quoth he? Marry,
- I'll see thee hang'd first!
- Gads. Sirrah carrier, what time do you mean to come to London?
- 2. Car. Time enough to go to bed with a candle, I warrant thee.
- Come, neighbour Mugs, we'll call up the gentlemen. They will
- along with company, for they have great charge.
- Exeunt [Carriers].
- Gads. What, ho! chamberlain!
-
- Enter Chamberlain.
-
- Cham. At hand, quoth pickpurse.
- Gads. That's even as fair as- 'at hand, quoth the chamberlain'; for
- thou variest no more from picking of purses than giving direction
- doth from labouring: thou layest the plot how.
- Cham. Good morrow, Master Gadshill. It holds current that I told
- you yesternight. There's a franklin in the Wild of Kent hath
- brought three hundred marks with him in gold. I heard him tell it
- to one of his company last night at supper- a kind of auditor;
- one that hath abundance of charge too, God knows what. They are
- up already and call for eggs and butter. They will away
- presently.
- Gads. Sirrah, if they meet not with Saint Nicholas' clerks, I'll
- give thee this neck.
- Cham. No, I'll none of it. I pray thee keep that for the hangman;
- for I know thou worshippest Saint Nicholas as truly as a man of
- falsehood may.
- Gads. What talkest thou to me of the hangman? If I hang, I'll make
- a fat pair of gallows; for if I hang, old Sir John hangs with me,
- and thou knowest he is no starveling. Tut! there are other
- Troyans that thou dream'st not of, the which for sport sake are
- content to do the profession some grace; that would (if matters
- should be look'd into) for their own credit sake make all whole.
- I am joined with no foot land-rakers, no long-staff sixpenny
- strikers, none of these mad mustachio purple-hued maltworms; but
- with nobility, and tranquillity, burgomasters and great oneyers,
- such as can hold in, such as will strike sooner than speak, and
- speak sooner than drink, and drink sooner than pray; and yet,
- zounds, I lie; for they pray continually to their saint, the
- commonwealth, or rather, not pray to her, but prey on her, for
- they ride up and down on her and make her their boots.
- Cham. What, the commonwealth their boots? Will she hold out water
- in foul way?
- Gads. She will, she will! Justice hath liquor'd her. We steal as in
- a castle, cocksure. We have the receipt of fernseed, we walk
- invisible.
- Cham. Nay, by my faith, I think you are more beholding to the night
- than to fernseed for your walking invisible.
- Gads. Give me thy hand. Thou shalt have a share in our purchase, as
- I and a true man.
- Cham. Nay, rather let me have it, as you are a false thief.
- Gads. Go to; 'homo' is a common name to all men. Bid the ostler
- bring my gelding out of the stable. Farewell, you muddy knave.
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-Scene II.
-The highway near Gadshill.
-
-Enter Prince and Poins.
-
- Poins. Come, shelter, shelter! I have remov'd Falstaff's horse, and
- he frets like a gumm'd velvet.
- Prince. Stand close. [They step aside.]
-
- Enter Falstaff.
-
- Fal. Poins! Poins, and be hang'd! Poins!
- Prince. I comes forward I Peace, ye fat-kidney'd rascal! What a
- brawling dost thou keep!
- Fal. Where's Poins, Hal?
- Prince. He is walk'd up to the top of the hill. I'll go seek him.
- [Steps aside.]
- Fal. I am accurs'd to rob in that thief's company. The rascal hath
- removed my horse and tied him I know not where. If I travel but
- four foot by the squire further afoot, I shall break my wind.
- Well, I doubt not but to die a fair death for all this, if I
- scape hanging for killing that rogue. I have forsworn his company
- hourly any time this two-and-twenty years, and yet I am bewitch'd
- with the rogue's company. If the rascal have not given me
- medicines to make me love him, I'll be hang'd. It could not be
- else. I have drunk medicines. Poins! Hal! A plague upon you both!
- Bardolph! Peto! I'll starve ere I'll rob a foot further. An
- 'twere not as good a deed as drink to turn true man and to leave
- these rogues, I am the veriest varlet that ever chewed with a
- tooth. Eight yards of uneven ground is threescore and ten miles
- afoot with me, and the stony-hearted villains know it well
- enough. A plague upon it when thieves cannot be true one to
- another! (They whistle.) Whew! A plague upon you all! Give me my
- horse, you rogues! give me my horse and be hang'd!
- Prince. [comes forward] Peace, ye fat-guts! Lie down, lay thine ear
- close to the ground, and list if thou canst hear the tread of
- travellers.
- Fal. Have you any levers to lift me up again, being down? 'Sblood,
- I'll not bear mine own flesh so far afoot again for all the coin
- in thy father's exchequer. What a plague mean ye to colt me thus?
- Prince. Thou liest; thou art not colted, thou art uncolted.
- Fal. I prithee, good Prince Hal, help me to my horse, good king's
- son.
- Prince. Out, ye rogue! Shall I be your ostler?
- Fal. Go hang thyself in thine own heir-apparent garters! If I be
- ta'en, I'll peach for this. An I have not ballads made on you
- all, and sung to filthy tunes, let a cup of sack be my poison.
- When a jest is so forward- and afoot too- I hate it.
-
- Enter Gadshill, [Bardolph and Peto with him].
-
- Gads. Stand!
- Fal. So I do, against my will.
- Poins. [comes fortward] O, 'tis our setter. I know his voice.
- Bardolph, what news?
- Bar. Case ye, case ye! On with your vizards! There's money of the
- King's coming down the hill; 'tis going to the King's exchequer.
- Fal. You lie, ye rogue! 'Tis going to the King's tavern.
- Gads. There's enough to make us all.
- Fal. To be hang'd.
- Prince. Sirs, you four shall front them in the narrow lane; Ned
- Poins and I will walk lower. If they scape from your encounter,
- then they light on us.
- Peto. How many be there of them?
- Gads. Some eight or ten.
- Fal. Zounds, will they not rob us?
- Prince. What, a coward, Sir John Paunch?
- Fal. Indeed, I am not John of Gaunt, your grandfather; but yet no
- coward, Hal.
- Prince. Well, we leave that to the proof.
- Poins. Sirrah Jack, thy horse stands behind the hedge. When thou
- need'st him, there thou shalt find him. Farewell and stand fast.
- Fal. Now cannot I strike him, if I should be hang'd.
- Prince. [aside to Poins] Ned, where are our disguises?
- Poins. [aside to Prince] Here, hard by. Stand close.
- [Exeunt Prince and Poins.]
- Fal. Now, my masters, happy man be his dole, say I. Every man to
- his business.
-
- Enter the Travellers.
-
- Traveller. Come, neighbour.
- The boy shall lead our horses down the hill;
- We'll walk afoot awhile and ease our legs.
- Thieves. Stand!
- Traveller. Jesus bless us!
- Fal. Strike! down with them! cut the villains' throats! Ah,
- whoreson caterpillars! bacon-fed knaves! they hate us youth. Down
- with them! fleece them!
- Traveller. O, we are undone, both we and ours for ever!
- Fal. Hang ye, gorbellied knaves, are ye undone? No, ye fat chuffs;
- I would your store were here! On, bacons on! What, ye knaves!
- young men must live. You are grandjurors, are ye? We'll jure ye,
- faith!
- Here they rob and bind them. Exeunt.
-
- Enter the Prince and Poins [in buckram suits].
-
- Prince. The thieves have bound the true men. Now could thou and I
- rob the thieves and go merrily to London, it would be argument
- for a week, laughter for a month, and a good jest for ever.
- Poins. Stand close! I hear them coming.
- [They stand aside.]
-
- Enter the Thieves again.
-
- Fal. Come, my masters, let us share, and then to horse before day.
- An the Prince and Poins be not two arrant cowards, there's no
- equity stirring. There's no more valour in that Poins than in a
- wild duck.
-
- [As they are sharing, the Prince and Poins set upon
- them. THey all run away, and Falstaff, after a blow or
- two, runs awasy too, leaving the booty behind them.]
-
- Prince. Your money!
- Poins. Villains!
-
- Prince. Got with much ease. Now merrily to horse.
- The thieves are scattered, and possess'd with fear
- So strongly that they dare not meet each other.
- Each takes his fellow for an officer.
- Away, good Ned. Falstaff sweats to death
- And lards the lean earth as he walks along.
- Were't not for laughing, I should pity him.
- Poins. How the rogue roar'd! Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-Scene III.
-Warkworth Castle.
-
-Enter Hotspur solus, reading a letter.
-
- Hot. 'But, for mine own part, my lord, I could be well contented to
- be there, in respect of the love I bear your house.' He could be
- contented- why is he not then? In respect of the love he bears
- our house! He shows in this he loves his own barn better than he
- loves our house. Let me see some more. 'The purpose you undertake
- is dangerous'- Why, that's certain! 'Tis dangerous to take a
- cold, to sleep, to drink; but I tell you, my lord fool, out of
- this nettle, danger, we pluck this flower, safety. 'The purpose
- you undertake is dangerous, the friends you have named uncertain,
- the time itself unsorted, and your whole plot too light for the
- counterpoise of so great an opposition.' Say you so, say you so?
- I say unto you again, you are a shallow, cowardly hind, and you
- lie. What a lack-brain is this! By the Lord, our plot is a good
- plot as ever was laid; our friends true and constant: a good
- plot, good friends, and full of expectation; an excellent plot,
- very good friends. What a frosty-spirited rogue is this! Why, my
- Lord of York commends the plot and the general course of the
- action. Zounds, an I were now by this rascal, I could brain him
- with his lady's fan. Is there not my father, my uncle, and
- myself; Lord Edmund Mortimer, my Lord of York, and Owen
- Glendower? Is there not, besides, the Douglas? Have I not all
- their letters to meet me in arms by the ninth of the next month,
- and are they not some of them set forward already? What a pagan
- rascal is this! an infidel! Ha! you shall see now, in very
- sincerity of fear and cold heart will he to the King and lay open
- all our proceedings. O, I could divide myself and go to buffets
- for moving such a dish of skim milk with so honourable an action!
- Hang him, let him tell the King! we are prepared. I will set
- forward to-night.
-
- Enter his Lady.
-
- How now, Kate? I must leave you within these two hours.
- Lady. O my good lord, why are you thus alone?
- For what offence have I this fortnight been
- A banish'd woman from my Harry's bed,
- Tell me, sweet lord, what is't that takes from thee
- Thy stomach, pleasure, and thy golden sleep?
- Why dost thou bend thine eyes upon the earth,
- And start so often when thou sit'st alone?
- Why hast thou lost the fresh blood in thy cheeks
- And given my treasures and my rights of thee
- To thick-ey'd musing and curs'd melancholy?
- In thy faint slumbers I by thee have watch'd,
- And heard thee murmur tales of iron wars,
- Speak terms of manage to thy bounding steed,
- Cry 'Courage! to the field!' And thou hast talk'd
- Of sallies and retires, of trenches, tent,
- Of palisadoes, frontiers, parapets,
- Of basilisks, of cannon, culverin,
- Of prisoners' ransom, and of soldiers slain,
- And all the currents of a heady fight.
- Thy spirit within thee hath been so at war,
- And thus hath so bestirr'd thee in thy sleep,
- That beads of sweat have stood upon thy brow
- Like bubbles ill a late-disturbed stream,
- And in thy face strange motions have appear'd,
- Such as we see when men restrain their breath
- On some great sudden hest. O, what portents are these?
- Some heavy business hath my lord in hand,
- And I must know it, else he loves me not.
- Hot. What, ho!
-
- [Enter a Servant.]
-
- Is Gilliams with the packet gone?
- Serv. He is, my lord, an hour ago.
- Hot. Hath Butler brought those horses from the sheriff?
- Serv. One horse, my lord, he brought even now.
- Hot. What horse? A roan, a crop-ear, is it not?
- Serv. It is, my lord.
- Hot. That roan shall be my throne.
- Well, I will back him straight. O esperance!
- Bid Butler lead him forth into the park.
- [Exit Servant.]
- Lady. But hear you, my lord.
- Hot. What say'st thou, my lady?
- Lady. What is it carries you away?
- Hot. Why, my horse, my love- my horse!
- Lady. Out, you mad-headed ape!
- A weasel hath not such a deal of spleen
- As you are toss'd with. In faith,
- I'll know your business, Harry; that I will!
- I fear my brother Mortimer doth stir
- About his title and hath sent for you
- To line his enterprise; but if you go-
- Hot. So far afoot, I shall be weary, love.
- Lady. Come, come, you paraquito, answer me
- Directly unto this question that I ask.
- I'll break thy little finger, Harry,
- An if thou wilt not tell my all things true.
- Hot. Away.
- Away, you trifler! Love? I love thee not;
- I care not for thee, Kate. This is no world
- To play with mammets and to tilt with lips.
- We must have bloody noses and crack'd crowns,
- And pass them current too. Gods me, my horse!
- What say'st thou, Kate? What wouldst thou have with me?
- Lady. Do you not love me? do you not indeed?
- Well, do not then; for since you love me not,
- I will not love myself. Do you not love me?
- Nay, tell me if you speak in jest or no.
- Hot. Come, wilt thou see me ride?
- And when I am a-horseback, I will swear
- I love thee infinitely. But hark you. Kate:
- I must not have you henceforth question me
- Whither I go, nor reason whereabout.
- Whither I must, I must; and to conclude,
- This evening must I leave you, gentle Kate.
- I know you wise; but yet no farther wise
- Than Harry Percy's wife; constant you are,
- But yet a woman; and for secrecy,
- No lady closer, for I well believe
- Thou wilt not utter what thou dost not know,
- And so far will I trust thee, gentle Kate.
- Lady. How? so far?
- Hot. Not an inch further. But hark you, Kate:
- Whither I go, thither shall you go too;
- To-day will I set forth, to-morrow you.
- Will this content you, Kate,?
- Lady. It must of force. Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-Scene IV.
-Eastcheap. The Boar's Head Tavern.
-
-Enter Prince and Poins.
-
- Prince. Ned, prithee come out of that fat-room and lend me thy hand
- to laugh a little.
- Poins. Where hast been, Hal?
- Prince,. With three or four loggerheads amongst three or
- fourscore hogsheads. I have sounded the very bass-string of
- humility. Sirrah, I am sworn brother to a leash of drawers and
- can call them all by their christen names, as Tom, Dick, and
- Francis. They take it already upon their salvation that, though
- I be but Prince of Wales, yet I am the king of courtesy; and tell
- me flatly I am no proud Jack like Falstaff, but a Corinthian, a
- lad of mettle, a good boy (by the Lord, so they call me!), and
- when I am King of England I shall command all the good lads
- Eastcheap. They call drinking deep, dying scarlet; and when
- you breathe in your watering, they cry 'hem!' and bid you play it
- off. To conclude, I am so good a proficient in one quarter of an
- hour that I can drink with any tinker in his own language during
- my life. I tell thee, Ned, thou hast lost much honour that thou
- wert not with me in this action. But, sweet Ned- to sweeten which
- name of Ned, I give thee this pennyworth of sugar, clapp'd even
- now into my hand by an under-skinker, one that never spake other
- English in his life than 'Eight shillings and sixpence,' and 'You
- are welcome,' with this shrill addition, 'Anon, anon, sir! Score
- a pint of bastard in the Half-moon,' or so- but, Ned, to drive
- away the time till Falstaff come, I prithee do thou stand in some
- by-room while I question my puny drawer to what end be gave me
- the sugar; and do thou never leave calling 'Francis!' that his
- tale to me may be nothing but 'Anon!' Step aside, and I'll show
- thee a precedent.
- Poins. Francis!
- Prince. Thou art perfect.
- Poins. Francis! [Exit Poins.]
-
- Enter [Francis, a] Drawer.
-
- Fran. Anon, anon, sir.- Look down into the Pomgarnet, Ralph.
- Prince. Come hither, Francis.
- Fran. My lord?
- Prince. How long hast thou to serve, Francis?
- Fran. Forsooth, five years, and as much as to-
- Poins. [within] Francis!
- Fran. Anon, anon, sir.
- Prince. Five year! by'r Lady, a long lease for the clinking of
- Pewter. But, Francis, darest thou be so valiant as to play the
- coward with thy indenture and show it a fair pair of heels and
- run from it?
- Fran. O Lord, sir, I'll be sworn upon all the books in England I
- could find in my heart-
- Poins. [within] Francis!
- Fran. Anon, sir.
- Prince. How old art thou, Francis?
- Fran. Let me see. About Michaelmas next I shall be-
- Poins. [within] Francis!
- Fran. Anon, sir. Pray stay a little, my lord.
- Prince. Nay, but hark you, Francis. For the sugar thou gavest me-
- 'twas a pennyworth, wast not?
- Fran. O Lord! I would it had been two!
- Prince. I will give thee for it a thousand pound. Ask me when thou
- wilt, and, thou shalt have it.
- Poins. [within] Francis!
- Fran. Anon, anon.
- Prince. Anon, Francis? No, Francis; but to-morrow, Francis; or,
- Francis, a Thursday; or indeed, Francis, when thou wilt. But
- Francis-
- Fran. My lord?
- Prince. Wilt thou rob this leathern-jerkin, crystal-button,
- not-pated, agate-ring, puke-stocking, caddis-garter,
- smooth-tongue, Spanish-pouch-
- Fran. O Lord, sir, who do you mean?
- Prince. Why then, your brown bastard is your only drink; for look
- you, Francis, your white canvas doublet will sully. In Barbary,
- sir, it cannot come to so much.
- Fran. What, sir?
- Poins. [within] Francis!
- Prince. Away, you rogue! Dost thou not hear them call?
- Here they both call him. The Drawer stands amazed,
- not knowing which way to go.
-
- Enter Vintner.
-
- Vint. What, stand'st thou still, and hear'st such a calling? Look
- to the guests within. [Exit Francis.] My lord, old Sir John, with
- half-a-dozen more, are at the door. Shall I let them in?
- Prince. Let them alone awhile, and then open the door.
- [Exit Vintner.]
- Poins!
- Poins. [within] Anon, anon, sir.
-
- Enter Poins.
-
- Prince. Sirrah, Falstaff and the rest of the thieves are at the
- door. Shall we be merry?
- Poins. As merry as crickets, my lad. But hark ye; what cunning
- match have you made with this jest of the drawer? Come, what's
- the issue?
- Prince. I am now of all humours that have showed themselves humours
- since the old days of goodman Adam to the pupil age of this
- present this twelve o'clock at midnight.
-
- [Enter Francis.]
-
- What's o'clock, Francis?
- Fran. Anon, anon, sir. [Exit.]
- Prince. That ever this fellow should have fewer words than a
- parrot, and yet the son of a woman! His industry is upstairs and
- downstairs, his eloquence the parcel of a reckoning. I am not yet
- of Percy's mind, the Hotspur of the North; he that kills me some
- six or seven dozen of Scots at a breakfast, washes his hands, and
- says to his wife, 'Fie upon this quiet life! I want work.' 'O my
- sweet Harry,' says she, 'how many hast thou kill'd to-day?'
- 'Give my roan horse a drench,' says he, and answers 'Some
- fourteen,' an hour after, 'a trifle, a trifle.' I prithee call in
- Falstaff. I'll play Percy, and that damn'd brawn shall play Dame
- Mortimer his wife. 'Rivo!' says the drunkard. Call in ribs, call
- in tallow.
-
- Enter Falstaff, [Gadshill, Bardolph, and Peto;
- Francis follows with wine].
-
- Poins. Welcome, Jack. Where hast thou been?
- Fal. A plague of all cowards, I say, and a vengeance too! Marry and
- amen! Give me a cup of sack, boy. Ere I lead this life long, I'll
- sew nether-stocks, and mend them and foot them too. A plague of
- all cowards! Give me a cup of sack, rogue. Is there no virtue
- extant?
- He drinketh.
- Prince. Didst thou never see Titan kiss a dish of butter?
- Pitiful-hearted butter, that melted at the sweet tale of the sun!
- If thou didst, then behold that compound.
- Fal. You rogue, here's lime in this sack too! There is nothing but
- roguery to be found in villanous man. Yet a coward is worse than
- a cup of sack with lime in it- a villanous coward! Go thy ways,
- old Jack, die when thou wilt; if manhood, good manhood, be not
- forgot upon the face of the earth, then am I a shotten herring.
- There lives not three good men unhang'd in England; and one of
- them is fat, and grows old. God help the while! A bad world, I
- say. I would I were a weaver; I could sing psalms or anything. A
- plague of all cowards I say still!
- Prince. How now, woolsack? What mutter you?
- Fal. A king's son! If I do not beat thee out of thy kingdom with a
- dagger of lath and drive all thy subjects afore thee like a flock
- of wild geese, I'll never wear hair on my face more. You Prince
- of Wales?
- Prince. Why, you whoreson round man, what's the matter?
- Fal. Are not you a coward? Answer me to that- and Poins there?
- Poins. Zounds, ye fat paunch, an ye call me coward, by the
- Lord, I'll stab thee.
- Fal. I call thee coward? I'll see thee damn'd ere I call thee
- coward, but I would give a thousand pound I could run as fast as
- thou canst. You are straight enough in the shoulders; you care
- not who sees Your back. Call you that backing of your friends? A
- plague upon such backing! Give me them that will face me. Give me
- a cup of sack. I am a rogue if I drunk to-day.
- Prince. O villain! thy lips are scarce wip'd since thou drunk'st
- last.
- Fal. All is one for that. (He drinketh.) A plague of all cowards
- still say I.
- Prince. What's the matter?
- Fal. What's the matter? There be four of us here have ta'en a
- thousand pound this day morning.
- Prince. Where is it, Jack? Where is it?
- Fal. Where is it, Taken from us it is. A hundred upon poor four of
- us!
- Prince. What, a hundred, man?
- Fal. I am a rogue if I were not at half-sword with a dozen of them
- two hours together. I have scap'd by miracle. I am eight times
- thrust through the doublet, four through the hose; my buckler cut
- through and through; my sword hack'd like a handsaw- ecce signum!
- I never dealt better since I was a man. All would not do. A
- plague of all cowards! Let them speak, If they speak more or less
- than truth, they are villains and the sons of darkness.
- Prince. Speak, sirs. How was it?
- Gads. We four set upon some dozen-
- Fal. Sixteen at least, my lord.
- Gads. And bound them.
- Peto. No, no, they were not bound.
- Fal. You rogue, they were bound, every man of them, or I am a Jew
- else- an Ebrew Jew.
- Gads. As we were sharing, some six or seven fresh men sea upon us-
- Fal. And unbound the rest, and then come in the other.
- Prince. What, fought you with them all?
- Fal. All? I know not what you call all, but if I fought not with
- fifty of them, I am a bunch of radish! If there were not two or
- three and fifty upon poor old Jack, then am I no two-legg'd
- creature.
- Prince. Pray God you have not murd'red some of them.
- Fal. Nay, that's past praying for. I have pepper'd two of them. Two
- I am sure I have paid, two rogues in buckram suits. I tell thee
- what, Hal- if I tell thee a lie, spit in my face, call me horse.
- Thou knowest my old ward. Here I lay, and thus I bore my point.
- Four rogues in buckram let drive at me.
- Prince. What, four? Thou saidst but two even now.
- Fal. Four, Hal. I told thee four.
- Poins. Ay, ay, he said four.
- Fal. These four came all afront and mainly thrust at me. I made me
- no more ado but took all their seven points in my target, thus.
- Prince. Seven? Why, there were but four even now.
- Fal. In buckram?
- Poins. Ay, four, in buckram suits.
- Fal. Seven, by these hilts, or I am a villain else.
- Prince. [aside to Poins] Prithee let him alone. We shall have more
- anon.
- Fal. Dost thou hear me, Hal?
- Prince. Ay, and mark thee too, Jack.
- Fal. Do so, for it is worth the list'ning to. These nine in buckram
- that I told thee of-
- Prince. So, two more already.
- Fal. Their points being broken-
- Poins. Down fell their hose.
- Fal. Began to give me ground; but I followed me close, came in,
- foot and hand, and with a thought seven of the eleven I paid.
- Prince. O monstrous! Eleven buckram men grown out of two!
- Fal. But, as the devil would have it, three misbegotten knaves in
- Kendal green came at my back and let drive at me; for it was so
- dark, Hal, that thou couldst not see thy hand.
- Prince. These lies are like their father that begets them- gross as
- a mountain, open, palpable. Why, thou clay-brain'd guts, thou
- knotty-pated fool, thou whoreson obscene greasy tallow-catch-
- Fal. What, art thou mad? art thou mad? Is not the truth the truth?
- Prince. Why, how couldst thou know these men in Kendal green when
- it was so dark thou couldst not see thy hand? Come, tell us your
- reason. What sayest thou to this?
- Poins. Come, your reason, Jack, your reason.
- Fal. What, upon compulsion? Zounds, an I were at the strappado or
- all the racks in the world, I would not tell you on compulsion.
- Give you a reason on compulsion? If reasons were as plentiful as
- blackberries, I would give no man a reason upon compulsion, I.
- Prince. I'll be no longer guilty, of this sin; this sanguine
- coward, this bed-presser, this horseback-breaker, this huge hill
- of flesh-
- Fal. 'Sblood, you starveling, you elf-skin, you dried
- neat's-tongue, you bull's sizzle, you stockfish- O for breath to
- utter what is like thee!- you tailor's yard, you sheath, you
- bowcase, you vile standing tuck!
- Prince. Well, breathe awhile, and then to it again; and when thou
- hast tired thyself in base comparisons, hear me speak but this.
- Poins. Mark, Jack.
- Prince. We two saw you four set on four, and bound them and were
- masters of their wealth. Mark now how a plain tale shall put you
- down. Then did we two set on you four and, with a word, outfac'd
- you from your prize, and have it; yea, and can show it you here
- in the house. And, Falstaff, you carried your guts away as
- nimbly, with as quick dexterity, and roar'd for mercy, and still
- run and roar'd, as ever I heard bullcalf. What a slave art thou
- to hack thy sword as thou hast done, and then say it was in
- fight! What trick, what device, what starting hole canst thou now
- find out to hide thee from this open and apparent shame?
- Poins. Come, let's hear, Jack. What trick hast thou now?
- Fal. By the Lord, I knew ye as well as he that made ye. Why, hear
- you, my masters. Was it for me to kill the heir apparent? Should
- I turn upon the true prince? Why, thou knowest I am as valiant as
- Hercules; but beware instinct. The lion will not touch the true
- prince. Instinct is a great matter. I was now a coward on
- instinct. I shall think the better of myself, and thee, during my
- life- I for a valiant lion, and thou for a true prince. But, by
- the Lord, lads, I am glad you have the money. Hostess, clap to
- the doors. Watch to-night, pray to-morrow. Gallants, lads, boys,
- hearts of gold, all the titles of good fellowship come to you!
- What, shall we be merry? Shall we have a play extempore?
- Prince. Content- and the argument shall be thy running away.
- Fal. Ah, no more of that, Hal, an thou lovest me!
-
- Enter Hostess.
-
- Host. O Jesu, my lord the Prince!
- Prince. How now, my lady the hostess? What say'st thou to me?
- Host. Marry, my lord, there is a nobleman of the court at door
- would speak with you. He says he comes from your father.
- Prince. Give him as much as will make him a royal man, and send him
- back again to my mother.
- Fal. What manner of man is he?
- Host. An old man.
- Fal. What doth gravity out of his bed at midnight? Shall I give him
- his answer?
- Prince. Prithee do, Jack.
- Fal. Faith, and I'll send him packing.
-Exit.
- Prince. Now, sirs. By'r Lady, you fought fair; so did you, Peto; so
- did you, Bardolph. You are lions too, you ran away upon instinct,
- you will not touch the true prince; no- fie!
- Bard. Faith, I ran when I saw others run.
- Prince. Tell me now in earnest, how came Falstaff's sword so
- hack'd?
- Peto. Why, he hack'd it with his dagger, and said he would swear
- truth out of England but he would make you believe it was done in
- fight, and persuaded us to do the like.
- Bard. Yea, and to tickle our noses with speargrass to make them
- bleed, and then to beslubber our garments with it and swear it
- was the blood of true men. I did that I did not this seven year
- before- I blush'd to hear his monstrous devices.
- Prince. O villain! thou stolest a cup of sack eighteen years ago
- and wert taken with the manner, and ever since thou hast blush'd
- extempore. Thou hadst fire and sword on thy side, and yet thou
- ran'st away. What instinct hadst thou for it?
- Bard. My lord, do you see these meteors? Do you behold these
- exhalations?
- Prince. I do.
- Bard. What think you they portend?
- Prince. Hot livers and cold purses.
- Bard. Choler, my lord, if rightly taken.
- Prince. No, if rightly taken, halter.
-
- Enter Falstaff.
-
- Here comes lean Jack; here comes bare-bone. How now, my sweet
- creature of bombast? How long is't ago, Jack, since thou sawest
- thine own knee?
- Fal. My own knee? When I was about thy years, Hal, I was not an
- eagle's talent in the waist; I could have crept into any
- alderman's thumb-ring. A plague of sighing and grief! It blows a
- man up like a bladder. There's villanous news abroad. Here was
- Sir John Bracy from your father. You must to the court in the
- morning. That same mad fellow of the North, Percy, and he of
- Wales that gave Amamon the bastinado, and made Lucifer cuckold,
- and swore the devil his true liegeman upon the cross of a Welsh
- hook- what a plague call you him?
- Poins. O, Glendower.
- Fal. Owen, Owen- the same; and his son-in-law Mortimer, and old
- Northumberland, and that sprightly Scot of Scots, Douglas, that
- runs a-horseback up a hill perpendicular-
- Prince. He that rides at high speed and with his pistol kills a
- sparrow flying.
- Fal. You have hit it.
- Prince. So did he never the sparrow.
- Fal. Well, that rascal hath good metal in him; he will not run.
- Prince. Why, what a rascal art thou then, to praise him so for
- running!
- Fal. A-horseback, ye cuckoo! but afoot he will not budge a foot.
- Prince. Yes, Jack, upon instinct.
- Fal. I grant ye, upon instinct. Well, he is there too, and one
- Mordake, and a thousand bluecaps more. Worcester is stol'n away
- to-night; thy father's beard is turn'd white with the news; you
- may buy land now as cheap as stinking mack'rel.
- Prince. Why then, it is like, if there come a hot June, and this
- civil buffeting hold, we shall buy maidenheads as they buy
- hobnails, by the hundreds.
- Fal. By the mass, lad, thou sayest true; it is like we shall have
- good trading that way. But tell me, Hal, art not thou horrible
- afeard? Thou being heir apparent, could the world pick thee out
- three such enemies again as that fiend Douglas, that spirit
- Percy, and that devil Glendower? Art thou not horribly afraid?
- Doth not thy blood thrill at it?
- Prince. Not a whit, i' faith. I lack some of thy instinct.
- Fal. Well, thou wilt be horribly chid to-morrow when thou comest to
- thy father. If thou love me, practise an answer.
- Prince. Do thou stand for my father and examine me upon the
- particulars of my life.
- Fal. Shall I? Content. This chair shall be my state, this dagger my
- sceptre, and this cushion my, crown.
- Prince. Thy state is taken for a join'd-stool, thy golden sceptre
- for a leaden dagger, and thy precious rich crown for a pitiful
- bald crown.
- Fal. Well, an the fire of grace be not quite out of thee, now shalt
- thou be moved. Give me a cup of sack to make my eyes look red,
- that it may be thought I have wept; for I must speak in passion,
- and I will do it in King Cambyses' vein.
- Prince. Well, here is my leg.
- Fal. And here is my speech. Stand aside, nobility.
- Host. O Jesu, this is excellent sport, i' faith!
- Fal. Weep not, sweet queen, for trickling tears are vain.
- Host. O, the Father, how he holds his countenance!
- Fal. For God's sake, lords, convey my tristful queen!
- For tears do stop the floodgates of her eyes.
- Host. O Jesu, he doth it as like one of these harlotry players as
- ever I see!
- Fal. Peace, good pintpot. Peace, good tickle-brain.- Harry, I do
- not only marvel where thou spendest thy time, but also how thou
- art accompanied. For though the camomile, the more it is trodden
- on, the faster it grows, yet youth, the more it is wasted, the
- sooner it wears. That thou art my son I have partly thy mother's
- word, partly my own opinion, but chiefly a villanous trick of
- thine eye and a foolish hanging of thy nether lip that doth
- warrant me. If then thou be son to me, here lies the point: why,
- being son to me, art thou so pointed at? Shall the blessed sun of
- heaven prove a micher and eat blackberries? A question not to be
- ask'd. Shall the son of England prove a thief and take purses? A
- question to be ask'd. There is a thing, Harry, which thou hast
- often heard of, and it is known to many in our land by the name
- of pitch. This pitch, as ancient writers do report, doth defile;
- so doth the company thou keepest. For, Harry, now I do not speak
- to thee in drink, but in tears; not in pleasure, but in passion;
- not in words only, but in woes also: and yet there is a virtuous
- man whom I have often noted in thy company, but I know not his
- name.
- Prince. What manner of man, an it like your Majesty?
- Fal. A goodly portly man, i' faith, and a corpulent; of a cheerful
- look, a pleasing eye, and a most noble carriage; and, as I think,
- his age some fifty, or, by'r Lady, inclining to threescore; and
- now I remember me, his name is Falstaff. If that man should be
- lewdly, given, he deceiveth me; for, Harry, I see virtue in his
- looks. If then the tree may be known by the fruit, as the fruit
- by the tree, then, peremptorily I speak it, there is virtue in
- that Falstaff. Him keep with, the rest banish. And tell me now,
- thou naughty varlet, tell me where hast thou been this month?
- Prince. Dost thou speak like a king? Do thou stand for me, and I'll
- play my father.
- Fal. Depose me? If thou dost it half so gravely, so majestically,
- both in word and matter, hang me up by the heels for a
- rabbit-sucker or a poulter's hare.
- Prince. Well, here I am set.
- Fal. And here I stand. Judge, my masters.
- Prince. Now, Harry, whence come you?
- Fal. My noble lord, from Eastcheap.
- Prince. The complaints I hear of thee are grievous.
- Fal. 'Sblood, my lord, they are false! Nay, I'll tickle ye for a
- young prince, i' faith.
- Prince. Swearest thou, ungracious boy? Henceforth ne'er look on me.
- Thou art violently carried away from grace. There is a devil
- haunts thee in the likeness of an old fat man; a tun of man is
- thy companion. Why dost thou converse with that trunk of humours,
- that bolting hutch of beastliness, that swoll'n parcel of
- dropsies, that huge bombard of sack, that stuff'd cloakbag of
- guts, that roasted Manningtree ox with the pudding in his belly,
- that reverend vice, that grey iniquity, that father ruffian, that
- vanity in years? Wherein is he good, but to taste sack and drink
- it? wherein neat and cleanly, but to carve a capon and eat it?
- wherein cunning, but in craft? wherein crafty, but in villany?
- wherein villanous, but in all things? wherein worthy, but in
- nothing?
- Fal. I would your Grace would take me with you. Whom means your
- Grace?
- Prince. That villanous abominable misleader of youth, Falstaff,
- that old white-bearded Satan.
- Fal. My lord, the man I know.
- Prince. I know thou dost.
- Fal. But to say I know more harm in him than in myself were to say
- more than I know. That he is old (the more the pity) his white
- hairs do witness it; but that he is (saving your reverence) a
- whoremaster, that I utterly deny. If sack and sugar be a fault,
- God help the wicked! If to be old and merry be a sin, then many
- an old host that I know is damn'd. If to be fat be to be hated,
- then Pharaoh's lean kine are to be loved. No, my good lord.
- Banish Peto, banish Bardolph, banish Poins; but for sweet Jack
- Falstaff, kind Jack Falstaff, true Jack Falstaff, valiant Jack
- Falstaff, and therefore more valiant being, as he is, old Jack
- Falstaff, banish not him thy Harry's company, banish not him thy
- Harry's company. Banish plump Jack, and banish all the world!
- Prince. I do, I will. [A knocking heard.]
- [Exeunt Hostess, Francis, and Bardolph.]
-
- Enter Bardolph, running.
-
- Bard. O, my lord, my lord! the sheriff with a most monstrous watch
- is at the door.
- Fal. Out, ye rogue! Play out the play. I have much to say in the
- behalf of that Falstaff.
-
- Enter the Hostess.
-
- Host. O Jesu, my lord, my lord!
- Prince. Heigh, heigh, the devil rides upon a fiddlestick!
- What's the matter?
- Host. The sheriff and all the watch are at the door. They are come
- to search the house. Shall I let them in?
- Fal. Dost thou hear, Hal? Never call a true piece of gold a
- counterfeit. Thou art essentially mad without seeming so.
- Prince. And thou a natural coward without instinct.
- Fal. I deny your major. If you will deny the sheriff, so; if not,
- let him enter. If I become not a cart as well as another man, a
- plague on my bringing up! I hope I shall as soon be strangled
- with a halter as another.
- Prince. Go hide thee behind the arras. The rest walk, up above.
- Now, my masters, for a true face and good conscience.
- Fal. Both which I have had; but their date is out, and therefore
- I'll hide me. Exit.
- Prince. Call in the sheriff.
- [Exeunt Manent the Prince and Peto.]
-
- Enter Sheriff and the Carrier.
-
- Now, Master Sheriff, what is your will with me?
- Sher. First, pardon me, my lord. A hue and cry
- Hath followed certain men unto this house.
- Prince. What men?
- Sher. One of them is well known, my gracious lord-
- A gross fat man.
- Carrier. As fat as butter.
- Prince. The man, I do assure you, is not here,
- For I myself at this time have employ'd him.
- And, sheriff, I will engage my word to thee
- That I will by to-morrow dinner time
- Send him to answer thee, or any man,
- For anything he shall be charg'd withal;
- And so let me entreat you leave the house.
- Sher. I will, my lord. There are two gentlemen
- Have in this robbery lost three hundred marks.
- Prince. It may be so. If he have robb'd these men,
- He shall be answerable; and so farewell.
- Sher. Good night, my noble lord.
- Prince. I think it is good morrow, is it not?
- Sher. Indeed, my lord, I think it be two o'clock.
- Exit [with Carrier].
- Prince. This oily rascal is known as well as Paul's. Go call him
- forth.
- Peto. Falstaff! Fast asleep behind the arras, and snorting like a
- horse.
- Prince. Hark how hard he fetches breath. Search his pockets.
- He searcheth his pockets and findeth certain papers.
- What hast thou found?
- Peto. Nothing but papers, my lord.
- Prince. Let's see whit they be. Read them.
-
- Peto. [reads] 'Item. A capon. . . . . . . . . . . . . ii s. ii d.
- Item, Sauce. . . . . . . . . . . . . . iiii d.
- Item, Sack two gallons . . . . . . . . v s. viii d.
- Item, Anchovies and sack after supper. ii s. vi d.
- Item, Bread. . . . . . . . . . . . . . ob.'
-
- Prince. O monstrous! but one halfpennyworth of bread to this
- intolerable deal of sack! What there is else, keep close; we'll
- read it at more advantage. There let him sleep till day. I'll to
- the court in the morning . We must all to the wars. and thy place
- shall be honourable. I'll procure this fat rogue a charge of
- foot; and I know, his death will be a march of twelve score. The
- money shall be paid back again with advantage. Be with me betimes
- in the morning, and so good morrow, Peto.
- Peto. Good morrow, good my lord.
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT III. Scene I.
-Bangor. The Archdeacon's house.
-
-Enter Hotspur, Worcester, Lord Mortimer, Owen Glendower.
-
- Mort. These promises are fair, the parties sure,
- And our induction full of prosperous hope.
- Hot. Lord Mortimer, and cousin Glendower,
- Will you sit down?
- And uncle Worcester. A plague upon it!
- I have forgot the map.
- Glend. No, here it is.
- Sit, cousin Percy; sit, good cousin Hotspur,
- For by that name as oft as Lancaster
- Doth speak of you, his cheek looks pale, and with
- A rising sigh he wisheth you in heaven.
- Hot. And you in hell, as oft as he hears
- Owen Glendower spoke of.
- Glend. I cannot blame him. At my nativity
- The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes
- Of burning cressets, and at my birth
- The frame and huge foundation of the earth
- Shak'd like a coward.
- Hot. Why, so it would have done at the same season, if your
- mother's cat had but kitten'd, though yourself had never been
- born.
- Glend. I say the earth did shake when I was born.
- Hot. And I say the earth was not of my mind,
- If you suppose as fearing you it shook.
- Glend. The heavens were all on fire, the earth did tremble.
- Hot. O, then the earth shook to see the heavens on fire,
- And not in fear of your nativity.
- Diseased nature oftentimes breaks forth
- In strange eruptions; oft the teeming earth
- Is with a kind of colic pinch'd and vex'd
- By the imprisoning of unruly wind
- Within her womb, which, for enlargement striving,
- Shakes the old beldame earth and topples down
- Steeples and mossgrown towers. At your birth
- Our grandam earth, having this distemp'rature,
- In passion shook.
- Glend. Cousin, of many men
- I do not bear these crossings. Give me leave
- To tell you once again that at my birth
- The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes,
- The goats ran from the mountains, and the herds
- Were strangely clamorous to the frighted fields.
- These signs have mark'd me extraordinary,
- And all the courses of my life do show
- I am not in the roll of common men.
- Where is he living, clipp'd in with the sea
- That chides the banks of England, Scotland, Wales,
- Which calls me pupil or hath read to me?
- And bring him out that is but woman's son
- Can trace me in the tedious ways of art
- And hold me pace in deep experiments.
- Hot. I think there's no man speaks better Welsh. I'll to dinner.
- Mort. Peace, cousin Percy; you will make him mad.
- Glend. I can call spirits from the vasty deep.
- Hot. Why, so can I, or so can any man;
- But will they come when you do call for them?
- Glend. Why, I can teach you, cousin, to command the devil.
- Hot. And I can teach thee, coz, to shame the devil-
- By telling truth. Tell truth and shame the devil.
- If thou have power to raise him, bring him hither,
- And I'll be sworn I have power to shame him hence.
- O, while you live, tell truth and shame the devil!
- Mort. Come, come, no more of this unprofitable chat.
- Glend. Three times hath Henry Bolingbroke made head
- Against my power; thrice from the banks of Wye
- And sandy-bottom'd Severn have I sent him
- Bootless home and weather-beaten back.
- Hot. Home without boots, and in foul weather too?
- How scapes he agues, in the devil's name
- Glend. Come, here's the map. Shall we divide our right
- According to our threefold order ta'en?
- Mort. The Archdeacon hath divided it
- Into three limits very equally.
- England, from Trent and Severn hitherto,
- By south and east is to my part assign'd;
- All westward, Wales beyond the Severn shore,
- And all the fertile land within that bound,
- To Owen Glendower; and, dear coz, to you
- The remnant northward lying off from Trent.
- And our indentures tripartite are drawn;
- Which being sealed interchangeably
- (A business that this night may execute),
- To-morrow, cousin Percy, you and I
- And my good Lord of Worcester will set forth
- To meet your father and the Scottish bower,
- As is appointed us, at Shrewsbury.
- My father Glendower is not ready yet,
- Nor shall we need his help these fourteen days.
- [To Glend.] Within that space you may have drawn together
- Your tenants, friends, and neighbouring gentlemen.
- Glend. A shorter time shall send me to you, lords;
- And in my conduct shall your ladies come,
- From whom you now must steal and take no leave,
- For there will be a world of water shed
- Upon the parting of your wives and you.
- Hot. Methinks my moiety, north from Burton here,
- In quantity equals not one of yours.
- See how this river comes me cranking in
- And cuts me from the best of all my land
- A huge half-moon, a monstrous cantle out.
- I'll have the current ill this place damm'd up,
- And here the smug and sliver Trent shall run
- In a new channel fair and evenly.
- It shall not wind with such a deep indent
- To rob me of so rich a bottom here.
- Glend. Not wind? It shall, it must! You see it doth.
- Mort. Yea, but
- Mark how he bears his course, and runs me up
- With like advantage on the other side,
- Gelding the opposed continent as much
- As on the other side it takes from you.
- Wor. Yea, but a little charge will trench him here
- And on this north side win this cape of land;
- And then he runs straight and even.
- Hot. I'll have it so. A little charge will do it.
- Glend. I will not have it alt'red.
- Hot. Will not you?
- Glend. No, nor you shall not.
- Hot. Who shall say me nay?
- Glend. No, that will I.
- Hot. Let me not understand you then; speak it in Welsh.
- Glend. I can speak English, lord, as well as you;
- For I was train'd up in the English court,
- Where, being but young, I framed to the harp
- Many an English ditty lovely well,
- And gave the tongue a helpful ornament-
- A virtue that was never seen in you.
- Hot. Marry,
- And I am glad of it with all my heart!
- I had rather be a kitten and cry mew
- Than one of these same metre ballet-mongers.
- I had rather hear a brazen canstick turn'd
- Or a dry wheel grate on the axletree,
- And that would set my teeth nothing on edge,
- Nothing so much as mincing poetry.
- 'Tis like the forc'd gait of a shuffling nag,
- Glend. Come, you shall have Trent turn'd.
- Hot. I do not care. I'll give thrice so much land
- To any well-deserving friend;
- But in the way of bargain, mark ye me,
- I'll cavil on the ninth part of a hair
- Are the indentures drawn? Shall we be gone?
- Glend. The moon shines fair; you may away by night.
- I'll haste the writer, and withal
- Break with your wives of your departure hence.
- I am afraid my daughter will run mad,
- So much she doteth on her Mortimer. Exit.
- Mort. Fie, cousin Percy! how you cross my father!
- Hot. I cannot choose. Sometimes he angers me
- With telling me of the moldwarp and the ant,
- Of the dreamer Merlin and his prophecies,
- And of a dragon and a finless fish,
- A clip-wing'd griffin and a moulten raven,
- A couching lion and a ramping cat,
- And such a deal of skimble-skamble stuff
- As puts me from my faith. I tell you what-
- He held me last night at least nine hours
- In reckoning up the several devils' names
- That were his lackeys. I cried 'hum,' and 'Well, go to!'
- But mark'd him not a word. O, he is as tedious
- As a tired horse, a railing wife;
- Worse than a smoky house. I had rather live
- With cheese and garlic in a windmill far
- Than feed on cates and have him talk to me
- In any summer house in Christendom).
- Mort. In faith, he is a worthy gentleman,
- Exceedingly well read, and profited
- In strange concealments, valiant as a lion,
- And wondrous affable, and as bountiful
- As mines of India. Shall I tell you, cousin?
- He holds your temper in a high respect
- And curbs himself even of his natural scope
- When you come 'cross his humour. Faith, he does.
- I warrant you that man is not alive
- Might so have tempted him as you have done
- Without the taste of danger and reproof.
- But do not use it oft, let me entreat you.
- Wor. In faith, my lord, you are too wilful-blame,
- And since your coming hither have done enough
- To put him quite besides his patience.
- You must needs learn, lord, to amend this fault.
- Though sometimes it show greatness, courage, blood-
- And that's the dearest grace it renders you-
- Yet oftentimes it doth present harsh rage,
- Defect of manners, want of government,
- Pride, haughtiness, opinion, and disdain;
- The least of which haunting a nobleman
- Loseth men's hearts, and leaves behind a stain
- Upon the beauty of all parts besides,
- Beguiling them of commendation.
- Hot. Well, I am school'd. Good manners be your speed!
- Here come our wives, and let us take our leave.
-
- Enter Glendower with the Ladies.
-
- Mort. This is the deadly spite that angers me-
- My wife can speak no English, I no Welsh.
- Glend. My daughter weeps; she will not part with you;
- She'll be a soldier too, she'll to the wars.
- Mort. Good father, tell her that she and my aunt Percy
- Shall follow in your conduct speedily.
- Glendower speaks to her in Welsh, and she answers
- him in the same.
- Glend. She is desperate here. A peevish self-will'd harlotry,
- One that no persuasion can do good upon.
- The Lady speaks in Welsh.
- Mort. I understand thy looks. That pretty Welsh
- Which thou pourest down from these swelling heavens
- I am too perfect in; and, but for shame,
- In such a Barley should I answer thee.
- The Lady again in Welsh.
- I understand thy kisses, and thou mine,
- And that's a feeling disputation.
- But I will never be a truant, love,
- Till I have learnt thy language: for thy tongue
- Makes Welsh as sweet as ditties highly penn'd,
- Sung by a fair queen in a summer's bow'r,
- With ravishing division, to her lute.
- Glend. Nay, if you melt, then will she run mad.
- The Lady speaks again in Welsh.
- Mort. O, I am ignorance itself in this!
- Glend. She bids you on the wanton rushes lay you down
- And rest your gentle head upon her lap,
- And she will sing the song that pleaseth you
- And on your eyelids crown the god of sleep,
- Charming your blood with pleasing heaviness,
- Making such difference 'twixt wake and sleep
- As is the difference betwixt day and night
- The hour before the heavenly-harness'd team
- Begins his golden progress in the East.
- Mort. With all my heart I'll sit and hear her sing.
- By that time will our book, I think, be drawn.
- Glend. Do so,
- And those musicians that shall play to you
- Hang in the air a thousand leagues from hence,
- And straight they shall be here. Sit, and attend.
- Hot. Come, Kate, thou art perfect in lying down. Come, quick,
- quick, that I may lay my head in thy lap.
- Lady P. Go, ye giddy goose.
- The music plays.
- Hot. Now I perceive the devil understands Welsh;
- And 'tis no marvel, be is so humorous.
- By'r Lady, he is a good musician.
- Lady P. Then should you be nothing but musical; for you are
- altogether govern'd by humours. Lie still, ye thief, and hear the
- lady sing in Welsh.
- Hot. I had rather hear Lady, my brach, howl in Irish.
- Lady P. Wouldst thou have thy head broken?
- Hot. No.
- Lady P. Then be still.
- Hot. Neither! 'Tis a woman's fault.
- Lady P. Now God help thee!
- Hot. To the Welsh lady's bed.
- Lady P. What's that?
- Hot. Peace! she sings.
- Here the Lady sings a Welsh song.
- Come, Kate, I'll have your song too.
- Lady P. Not mine, in good sooth.
- Hot. Not yours, in good sooth? Heart! you swear like a
- comfit-maker's wife. 'Not you, in good sooth!' and 'as true as I
- live!' and 'as God shall mend me!' and 'as sure as day!'
- And givest such sarcenet surety for thy oaths
- As if thou ne'er walk'st further than Finsbury.
- Swear me, Kate, like a lady as thou art,
- A good mouth-filling oath; and leave 'in sooth'
- And such protest of pepper gingerbread
- To velvet guards and Sunday citizens. Come, sing.
- Lady P. I will not sing.
- Hot. 'Tis the next way to turn tailor or be redbreast-teacher. An
- the indentures be drawn, I'll away within these two hours; and so
- come in when ye will. Exit.
- Glend. Come, come, Lord Mortimer. You are as slow
- As hot Lord Percy is on fire to go.
- By this our book is drawn; we'll but seal,
- And then to horse immediately.
- Mort. With all my heart.
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-Scene II.
-London. The Palace.
-
-Enter the King, Prince of Wales, and others.
-
- King. Lords, give us leave. The Prince of Wales and I
- Must have some private conference; but be near at hand,
- For we shall presently have need of you.
- Exeunt Lords.
- I know not whether God will have it so,
- For some displeasing service I have done,
- That, in his secret doom, out of my blood
- He'll breed revengement and a scourge for me;
- But thou dost in thy passages of life
- Make me believe that thou art only mark'd
- For the hot vengeance and the rod of heaven
- To punish my mistreadings. Tell me else,
- Could such inordinate and low desires,
- Such poor, such bare, such lewd, such mean attempts,
- Such barren pleasures, rude society,
- As thou art match'd withal and grafted to,
- Accompany the greatness of thy blood
- And hold their level with thy princely heart?
- Prince. So please your Majesty, I would I could
- Quit all offences with as clear excuse
- As well as I am doubtless I can purge
- Myself of many I am charged withal.
- Yet such extenuation let me beg
- As, in reproof of many tales devis'd,
- Which oft the ear of greatness needs must bear
- By, smiling pickthanks and base newsmongers,
- I may, for some things true wherein my youth
- Hath faulty wand'red and irregular,
- And pardon on lily true submission.
- King. God pardon thee! Yet let me wonder, Harry,
- At thy affections, which do hold a wing,
- Quite from the flight of all thy ancestors.
- Thy place in Council thou hast rudely lost,
- Which by thy younger brother is supplied,
- And art almost an alien to the hearts
- Of all the court and princes of my blood.
- The hope and expectation of thy time
- Is ruin'd, and the soul of every man
- Prophetically do forethink thy fall.
- Had I so lavish of my presence been,
- So common-hackney'd in the eyes of men,
- So stale and cheap to vulgar company,
- Opinion, that did help me to the crown,
- Had still kept loyal to possession
- And left me in reputeless banishment,
- A fellow of no mark nor likelihood.
- By being seldom seen, I could not stir
- But, like a comet, I Was wond'red at;
- That men would tell their children, 'This is he!'
- Others would say, 'Where? Which is Bolingbroke?'
- And then I stole all courtesy from heaven,
- And dress'd myself in such humility
- That I did pluck allegiance from men's hearts,
- Loud shouts and salutations from their mouths
- Even in the presence of the crowned King.
- Thus did I keep my person fresh and new,
- My presence, like a robe pontifical,
- Ne'er seen but wond'red at; and so my state,
- Seldom but sumptuous, show'd like a feast
- And won by rareness such solemnity.
- The skipping King, he ambled up and down
- With shallow jesters and rash bavin wits,
- Soon kindled and soon burnt; carded his state;
- Mingled his royalty with cap'ring fools;
- Had his great name profaned with their scorns
- And gave his countenance, against his name,
- To laugh at gibing boys and stand the push
- Of every beardless vain comparative;
- Grew a companion to the common streets,
- Enfeoff'd himself to popularity;
- That, being dally swallowed by men's eyes,
- They surfeited with honey and began
- To loathe the taste of sweetness, whereof a little
- More than a little is by much too much.
- So, when he had occasion to be seen,
- He was but as the cuckoo is in June,
- Heard, not regarded- seen, but with such eyes
- As, sick and blunted with community,
- Afford no extraordinary gaze,
- Such as is bent on unlike majesty
- When it shines seldom in admiring eyes;
- But rather drows'd and hung their eyelids down,
- Slept in his face, and rend'red such aspect
- As cloudy men use to their adversaries,
- Being with his presence glutted, gorg'd, and full.
- And in that very line, Harry, standest thou;
- For thou hast lost thy princely privilege
- With vile participation. Not an eye
- But is aweary of thy common sight,
- Save mine, which hath desir'd to see thee more;
- Which now doth that I would not have it do-
- Make blind itself with foolish tenderness.
- Prince. I shall hereafter, my thrice-gracious lord,
- Be more myself.
- King. For all the world,
- As thou art to this hour, was Richard then
- When I from France set foot at Ravenspurgh;
- And even as I was then is Percy now.
- Now, by my sceptre, and my soul to boot,
- He hath more worthy interest to the state
- Than thou, the shadow of succession;
- For of no right, nor colour like to right,
- He doth fill fields with harness in the realm,
- Turns head against the lion's armed jaws,
- And, Being no more in debt to years than thou,
- Leads ancient lords and reverend Bishops on
- To bloody battles and to bruising arms.
- What never-dying honour hath he got
- Against renowmed Douglas! whose high deeds,
- Whose hot incursions and great name in arms
- Holds from all soldiers chief majority
- And military title capital
- Through all the kingdoms that acknowledge Christ.
- Thrice hath this Hotspur, Mars in swathling clothes,
- This infant warrior, in his enterprises
- Discomfited great Douglas; ta'en him once,
- Enlarged him, and made a friend of him,
- To fill the mouth of deep defiance up
- And shake the peace and safety of our throne.
- And what say you to this? Percy, Northumberland,
- The Archbishop's Grace of York, Douglas, Mortimer
- Capitulate against us and are up.
- But wherefore do I tell these news to thee
- Why, Harry, do I tell thee of my foes,
- Which art my nearest and dearest enemy'
- Thou that art like enough, through vassal fear,
- Base inclination, and the start of spleen,
- To fight against me under Percy's pay,
- To dog his heels and curtsy at his frowns,
- To show how much thou art degenerate.
- Prince. Do not think so. You shall not find it so.
- And God forgive them that so much have sway'd
- Your Majesty's good thoughts away from me!
- I will redeem all this on Percy's head
- And, in the closing of some glorious day,
- Be bold to tell you that I am your son,
- When I will wear a garment all of blood,
- And stain my favours in a bloody mask,
- Which, wash'd away, shall scour my shame with it.
- And that shall be the day, whene'er it lights,
- That this same child of honour and renown,
- This gallant Hotspur, this all-praised knight,
- And your unthought of Harry chance to meet.
- For every honour sitting on his helm,
- Would they were multitudes, and on my head
- My shames redoubled! For the time will come
- That I shall make this Northern youth exchange
- His glorious deeds for my indignities.
- Percy is but my factor, good my lord,
- To engross up glorious deeds on my behalf;
- And I will call hall to so strict account
- That he shall render every glory up,
- Yea, even the slightest worship of his time,
- Or I will tear the reckoning from his heart.
- This in the name of God I promise here;
- The which if he be pleas'd I shall perform,
- I do beseech your Majesty may salve
- The long-grown wounds of my intemperance.
- If not, the end of life cancels all bands,
- And I will die a hundred thousand deaths
- Ere break the smallest parcel of this vow.
- King. A hundred thousand rebels die in this!
- Thou shalt have charge and sovereign trust herein.
-
- Enter Blunt.
-
- How now, good Blunt? Thy looks are full of speed.
- Blunt. So hath the business that I come to speak of.
- Lord Mortimer of Scotland hath sent word
- That Douglas and the English rebels met
- The eleventh of this month at Shrewsbury.
- A mighty and a fearful head they are,
- If promises be kept oil every hand,
- As ever off'red foul play in a state.
- King. The Earl of Westmoreland set forth to-day;
- With him my son, Lord John of Lancaster;
- For this advertisement is five days old.
- On Wednesday next, Harry, you shall set forward;
- On Thursday we ourselves will march. Our meeting
- Is Bridgenorth; and, Harry, you shall march
- Through Gloucestershire; by which account,
- Our business valued, some twelve days hence
- Our general forces at Bridgenorth shall meet.
- Our hands are full of business. Let's away.
- Advantage feeds him fat while men delay. Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-Scene III.
-Eastcheap. The Boar's Head Tavern.
-
-Enter Falstaff and Bardolph.
-
- Fal. Bardolph, am I not fall'n away vilely since this last action?
- Do I not bate? Do I not dwindle? Why, my skin hangs about me like
- an old lady's loose gown! I am withered like an old apple John.
- Well, I'll repent, and that suddenly, while I am in some liking.
- I shall be out of heart shortly, and then I shall have no
- strength to repent. An I have not forgotten what the inside of a
- church is made of, I am a peppercorn, a brewer's horse. The
- inside of a church! Company, villanous company, hath been the
- spoil of me.
- Bard. Sir John, you are so fretful you cannot live long.
- Fal. Why, there is it! Come, sing me a bawdy song; make me merry. I
- was as virtuously given as a gentleman need to be, virtuous
- enough: swore little, dic'd not above seven times a week, went to
- a bawdy house not above once in a quarter- of an hour, paid money
- that I borrowed- three or four times, lived well, and in good
- compass; and now I live out of all order, out of all compass.
- Bard. Why, you are so fat, Sir John, that you must needs be out of
- all compass- out of all reasonable compass, Sir John.
- Fal. Do thou amend thy face, and I'll amend my life. Thou art our
- admiral, thou bearest the lantern in the poop- but 'tis in the
- nose of thee. Thou art the Knight of the Burning Lamp.
- Bard. Why, Sir John, my face does you no harm.
- Fal. No, I'll be sworn. I make as good use of it as many a man doth
- of a death's-head or a memento mori. I never see thy face but I
- think upon hellfire and Dives that lived in purple; for there he
- is in his robes, burning, burning. if thou wert any way given to
- virtue, I would swear by thy face; my oath should be 'By this
- fire, that's God's angel.' But thou art altogether given over,
- and wert indeed, but for the light in thy face, the son of utter
- darkness. When thou ran'st up Gadshill in the night to catch my
- horse, if I did not think thou hadst been an ignis fatuus or a
- ball of wildfire, there's no purchase in money. O, thou art a
- perpetual triumph, an everlasting bonfire-light! Thou hast saved
- me a thousand marks in links and torches, walking with thee in
- the night betwixt tavern and tavern; but the sack that thou hast
- drunk me would have bought me lights as good cheap at the dearest
- chandler's in Europe. I have maintained that salamander of yours
- with fire any time this two-and-thirty years. God reward me for
- it!
- Bard. 'Sblood, I would my face were in your belly!
- Fal. God-a-mercy! so should I be sure to be heart-burn'd.
-
- Enter Hostess.
-
- How now, Dame Partlet the hen? Have you enquir'd yet who pick'd
- my pocket?
- Host. Why, Sir John, what do you think, Sir John? Do you think I
- keep thieves in my house? I have search'd, I have enquired, so
- has my husband, man by man, boy by boy, servant by servant. The
- tithe of a hair was never lost in my house before.
- Fal. Ye lie, hostess. Bardolph was shav'd and lost many a hair, and
- I'll be sworn my pocket was pick'd. Go to, you are a woman, go!
- Host. Who, I? No; I defy thee! God's light, I was never call'd so
- in mine own house before!
- Fal. Go to, I know you well enough.
- Host. No, Sir John; you do not know me, Sir John. I know you, Sir
- John. You owe me money, Sir John, and now you pick a quarrel to
- beguile me of it. I bought you a dozen of shirts to your back.
- Fal. Dowlas, filthy dowlas! I have given them away to bakers'
- wives; they have made bolters of them.
- Host. Now, as I am a true woman, holland of eight shillings an ell.
- You owe money here besides, Sir John, for your diet and
- by-drinkings, and money lent you, four-and-twenty pound.
- Fal. He had his part of it; let him pay.
- Host. He? Alas, he is poor; he hath nothing.
- Fal. How? Poor? Look upon his face. What call you rich? Let them
- coin his nose, let them coin his cheeks. I'll not pay a denier.
- What, will you make a younker of me? Shall I not take mine ease
- in mine inn but I shall have my pocket pick'd? I have lost a
- seal-ring of my grandfather's worth forty mark.
- Host. O Jesu, I have heard the Prince tell him, I know not how oft,
- that that ring was copper!
- Fal. How? the Prince is a Jack, a sneak-cup. 'Sblood, an he were
- here, I would cudgel him like a dog if he would say so.
-
- Enter the Prince [and Poins], marching; and Falstaff meets
- them, playing upon his truncheon like a fife.
-
- How now, lad? Is the wind in that door, i' faith? Must we all
- march?
- Bard. Yea, two and two, Newgate fashion.
- Host. My lord, I pray you hear me.
- Prince. What say'st thou, Mistress Quickly? How doth thy husband?
- I love him well; he is an honest man.
- Host. Good my lord, hear me.
- Fal. Prithee let her alone and list to me.
- Prince. What say'st thou, Jack?
- Fal. The other night I fell asleep here behind the arras and had my
- pocket pick'd. This house is turn'd bawdy house; they pick
- pockets.
- Prince. What didst thou lose, Jack?
- Fal. Wilt thou believe me, Hal? Three or four bonds of forty pound
- apiece and a seal-ring of my grandfather's.
- Prince. A trifle, some eightpenny matter.
- Host. So I told him, my lord, and I said I heard your Grace say so;
- and, my lord, he speaks most vilely of you, like a foul-mouth'd
- man as he is, and said he would cudgel you.
- Prince. What! he did not?
- Host. There's neither faith, truth, nor womanhood in me else.
- Fal. There's no more faith in thee than in a stewed prune, nor no
- more truth in thee than in a drawn fox; and for woman-hood, Maid
- Marian may be the deputy's wife of the ward to thee. Go, you
- thing, go!
- Host. Say, what thing? what thing?
- Fal. What thing? Why, a thing to thank God on.
- Host. I am no thing to thank God on, I would thou shouldst know it!
- I am an honest man's wife, and, setting thy knight-hood aside,
- thou art a knave to call me so.
- Fal. Setting thy womanhood aside, thou art a beast to say
- otherwise.
- Host. Say, what beast, thou knave, thou?
- Fal. What beast? Why, an otter.
- Prince. An otter, Sir John? Why an otter?
- Fal. Why, she's neither fish nor flesh; a man knows not where to
- have her.
- Host. Thou art an unjust man in saying so. Thou or any man knows
- where to have me, thou knave, thou!
- Prince. Thou say'st true, hostess, and he slanders thee most
- grossly.
- Host. So he doth you, my lord, and said this other day you ought
- him a thousand pound.
- Prince. Sirrah, do I owe you a thousand pound?
- Fal. A thousand pound, Hal? A million! Thy love is worth a million;
- thou owest me thy love.
- Host. Nay, my lord, he call'd you Jack and said he would cudgel
- you.
- Fal. Did I, Bardolph?
- Bard. Indeed, Sir John, you said so.
- Fal. Yea. if he said my ring was copper.
- Prince. I say, 'tis copper. Darest thou be as good as thy word now?
- Fal. Why, Hal, thou knowest, as thou art but man, I dare; but as
- thou art Prince, I fear thee as I fear the roaring of the lion's
- whelp.
- Prince. And why not as the lion?
- Fal. The King himself is to be feared as the lion. Dost thou think
- I'll fear thee as I fear thy father? Nay, an I do, I pray God my
- girdle break.
- Prince. O, if it should, how would thy guts fall about thy knees!
- But, sirrah, there's no room for faith, truth, nor honesty in
- this bosom of thine. It is all fill'd up with guts and midriff.
- Charge an honest woman with picking thy pocket? Why, thou
- whoreson, impudent, emboss'd rascal, if there were anything in
- thy pocket but tavern reckonings, memorandums of bawdy houses,
- and one poor pennyworth of sugar candy to make thee long-winded-
- if thy pocket were enrich'd with any other injuries but these, I
- am a villain. And yet you will stand to it; you will not pocket
- up wrong. Art thou not ashamed?
- Fal. Dost thou hear, Hal? Thou knowest in the state of innocency
- Adam fell; and what should poor Jack Falstaff do in the days of
- villany? Thou seest I have more flesh than another man, and
- therefore more frailty. You confess then, you pick'd my pocket?
- Prince. It appears so by the story.
- Fal. Hostess, I forgive thee. Go make ready breakfast. Love thy
- husband, look to thy servants, cherish thy guests. Thou shalt
- find me tractable to any honest reason. Thou seest I am pacified.
- -Still?- Nay, prithee be gone. [Exit Hostess.] Now, Hal, to the
- news at court. For the robbery, lad- how is that answered?
- Prince. O my sweet beef, I must still be good angel to thee.
- The money is paid back again.
- Fal. O, I do not like that paying back! 'Tis a double labour.
- Prince. I am good friends with my father, and may do anything.
- Fal. Rob me the exchequer the first thing thou doest, and do it
- with unwash'd hands too.
- Bard. Do, my lord.
- Prince. I have procured thee, Jack, a charge of foot.
- Fal. I would it had been of horse. Where shall I find one that can
- steal well? O for a fine thief of the age of two-and-twenty or
- thereabouts! I am heinously unprovided. Well, God be thanked for
- these rebels. They offend none but the virtuous. I laud them, I
- praise them.
- Prince. Bardolph!
- Bard. My lord?
- Prince. Go bear this letter to Lord John of Lancaster,
- To my brother John; this to my Lord of Westmoreland.
- [Exit Bardolph.]
- Go, Poins, to horse, to horse; for thou and I
- Have thirty miles to ride yet ere dinner time.
- [Exit Poins.]
- Jack, meet me to-morrow in the Temple Hall
- At two o'clock in the afternoon.
- There shalt thou know thy charge. and there receive
- Money and order for their furniture.
- The land is burning; Percy stands on high;
- And either they or we must lower lie. [Exit.]
- Fal. Rare words! brave world! Hostess, my breakfast, come.
- O, I could wish this tavern were my drum!
-Exit.
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT IV. Scene I.
-The rebel camp near Shrewsbury.
-
-Enter Harry Hotspur, Worcester, and Douglas.
-
- Hot. Well said, my noble Scot. If speaking truth
- In this fine age were not thought flattery,
- Such attribution should the Douglas have
- As not a soldier of this season's stamp
- Should go so general current through the world.
- By God, I cannot flatter, I defy
- The tongues of soothers! but a braver place
- In my heart's love hath no man than yourself.
- Nay, task me to my word; approve me, lord.
- Doug. Thou art the king of honour.
- No man so potent breathes upon the ground
- But I will beard him.
-
- Enter one with letters.
-
- Hot. Do so, and 'tis well.-
- What letters hast thou there?- I can but thank you.
- Messenger. These letters come from your father.
- Hot. Letters from him? Why comes he not himself?
- Mess. He cannot come, my lord; he is grievous sick.
- Hot. Zounds! how has he the leisure to be sick
- In such a justling time? Who leads his power?
- Under whose government come they along?
- Mess. His letters bears his mind, not I, my lord.
- Wor. I prithee tell me, doth he keep his bed?
- Mess. He did, my lord, four days ere I set forth,
- And at the time of my departure thence
- He was much fear'd by his physicians.
- Wor. I would the state of time had first been whole
- Ere he by sickness had been visited.
- His health was never better worth than now.
- Hot. Sick now? droop now? This sickness doth infect
- The very lifeblood of our enterprise.
- 'Tis catching hither, even to our camp.
- He writes me here that inward sickness-
- And that his friends by deputation could not
- So soon be drawn; no did he think it meet
- To lay so dangerous and dear a trust
- On any soul remov'd but on his own.
- Yet doth he give us bold advertisement,
- That with our small conjunction we should on,
- To see how fortune is dispos'd to us;
- For, as he writes, there is no quailing now,
- Because the King is certainly possess'd
- Of all our purposes. What say you to it?
- Wor. Your father's sickness is a maim to us.
- Hot. A perilous gash, a very limb lopp'd off.
- And yet, in faith, it is not! His present want
- Seems more than we shall find it. Were it good
- To set the exact wealth of all our states
- All at one cast? to set so rich a man
- On the nice hazard of one doubtful hour?
- It were not good; for therein should we read
- The very bottom and the soul of hope,
- The very list, the very utmost bound
- Of all our fortunes.
- Doug. Faith, and so we should;
- Where now remains a sweet reversion.
- We may boldly spend upon the hope of what
- Is to come in.
- A comfort of retirement lives in this.
- Hot. A rendezvous, a home to fly unto,
- If that the devil and mischance look big
- Upon the maidenhead of our affairs.
- Wor. But yet I would your father had been here.
- The quality and hair of our attempt
- Brooks no division. It will be thought
- By some that know not why he is away,
- That wisdom, loyalty, and mere dislike
- Of our proceedings kept the Earl from hence.
- And think how such an apprehension
- May turn the tide of fearful faction
- And breed a kind of question in our cause.
- For well you know we of the off'ring side
- Must keep aloof from strict arbitrement,
- And stop all sight-holes, every loop from whence
- The eye of reason may pry in upon us.
- This absence of your father's draws a curtain
- That shows the ignorant a kind of fear
- Before not dreamt of.
- Hot. You strain too far.
- I rather of his absence make this use:
- It lends a lustre and more great opinion,
- A larger dare to our great enterprise,
- Than if the Earl were here; for men must think,
- If we, without his help, can make a head
- To push against a kingdom, with his help
- We shall o'erturn it topsy-turvy down.
- Yet all goes well; yet all our joints are whole.
- Doug. As heart can think. There is not such a word
- Spoke of in Scotland as this term of fear.
-
- Enter Sir Richard Vernon.
-
- Hot. My cousin Vernon! welcome, by my soul.
- Ver. Pray God my news be worth a welcome, lord.
- The Earl of Westmoreland, seven thousand strong,
- Is marching hitherwards; with him Prince John.
- Hot. No harm. What more?
- Ver. And further, I have learn'd
- The King himself in person is set forth,
- Or hitherwards intended speedily,
- With strong and mighty preparation.
- Hot. He shall be welcome too. Where is his son,
- The nimble-footed madcap Prince of Wales,
- And his comrades, that daff'd the world aside
- And bid it pass?
- Ver. All furnish'd, all in arms;
- All plum'd like estridges that with the wind
- Bated like eagles having lately bath'd;
- Glittering in golden coats like images;
- As full of spirit as the month of May
- And gorgeous as the sun at midsummer;
- Wanton as youthful goats, wild as young bulls.
- I saw young Harry with his beaver on
- His cushes on his thighs, gallantly arm'd,
- Rise from the ground like feathered Mercury,
- And vaulted with such ease into his seat
- As if an angel dropp'd down from the clouds
- To turn and wind a fiery Pegasus
- And witch the world with noble horsemanship.
- Hot. No more, no more! Worse than the sun in March,
- This praise doth nourish agues. Let them come.
- They come like sacrifices in their trim,
- And to the fire-ey'd maid of smoky war
- All hot and bleeding Will we offer them.
- The mailed Mars Shall on his altar sit
- Up to the ears in blood. I am on fire
- To hear this rich reprisal is so nigh,
- And yet not ours. Come, let me taste my horse,
- Who is to bear me like a thunderbolt
- Against the bosom of the Prince of Wales.
- Harry to Harry shall, hot horse to horse,
- Meet, and ne'er part till one drop down a corse.
- that Glendower were come!
- Ver. There is more news.
- I learn'd in Worcester, as I rode along,
- He cannot draw his power this fourteen days.
- Doug. That's the worst tidings that I hear of yet.
- Wor. Ay, by my faith, that bears a frosty sound.
- Hot. What may the King's whole battle reach unto?
- Ver. To thirty thousand.
- Hot. Forty let it be.
- My father and Glendower being both away,
- The powers of us may serve so great a day.
- Come, let us take a muster speedily.
- Doomsday is near. Die all, die merrily.
- Doug. Talk not of dying. I am out of fear
- Of death or death's hand for this one half-year.
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-Scene II.
-A public road near Coventry.
-
-Enter Falstaff and Bardolph.
-
- Fal. Bardolph, get thee before to Coventry; fill me a bottle of
- sack. Our soldiers shall march through. We'll to Sutton Co'fil'
- to-night.
- Bard. Will you give me money, Captain?
- Fal. Lay out, lay out.
- Bald. This bottle makes an angel.
- Fal. An if it do, take it for thy labour; an if it make twenty,
- take them all; I'll answer the coinage. Bid my lieutenant Peto
- meet me at town's end.
- Bard. I Will, Captain. Farewell. Exit.
- Fal. If I be not ashamed of my soldiers, I am a sous'd gurnet. I
- have misused the King's press damnably. I have got in exchange of
- a hundred and fifty soldiers, three hundred and odd pounds. I
- press me none but good householders, yeomen's sons; inquire me
- out contracted bachelors, such as had been ask'd twice on the
- banes- such a commodity of warm slaves as had as lieve hear the
- devil as a drum; such as fear the report of a caliver worse than
- a struck fowl or a hurt wild duck. I press'd me none but such
- toasts-and-butter, with hearts in their bellies no bigger than
- pins' heads, and they have bought out their services; and now my
- whole charge consists of ancients, corporals, lieutenants,
- gentlemen of companies- slaves as ragged as Lazarus in the
- painted cloth, where the glutton's dogs licked his sores; and
- such as indeed were never soldiers, but discarded unjust
- serving-men, younger sons to Younger brothers, revolted tapsters,
- and ostlers trade-fall'n; the cankers of a calm world and a long
- peace; ten times more dishonourable ragged than an old fac'd
- ancient; and such have I to fill up the rooms of them that have
- bought out their services that you would think that I had a
- hundred and fifty tattered Prodigals lately come from
- swine-keeping, from eating draff and husks. A mad fellow met me
- on the way, and told me I had unloaded all the gibbets and
- press'd the dead bodies. No eye hath seen such scarecrows. I'll
- not march through Coventry with them, that's flat. Nay, and the
- villains march wide betwixt the legs, as if they had gyves on;
- for indeed I had the most of them out of prison. There's but a
- shirt and a half in all my company; and the half-shirt is two
- napkins tack'd together and thrown over the shoulders like a
- herald's coat without sleeves; and the shirt, to say the truth,
- stol'n from my host at Saint Alban's, or the red-nose innkeeper
- of Daventry. But that's all one; they'll find linen enough on
- every hedge.
-
- Enter the Prince and the Lord of Westmoreland.
-
- Prince. How now, blown Jack? How now, quilt?
- Fal. What, Hal? How now, mad wag? What a devil dost thou in
- Warwickshire? My good Lord of Westmoreland, I cry you mercy. I
- thought your honour had already been at Shrewsbury.
- West. Faith, Sir John, 'tis more than time that I were there, and
- you too; but my powers are there already. The King, I can tell
- you, looks for us all. We must away all, to-night.
- Fal. Tut, never fear me. I am as vigilant as a cat to steal cream.
- Prince. I think, to steal cream indeed, for thy theft hath already
- made thee butter. But tell me, Jack, whose fellows are these that
- come after?
- Fal. Mine, Hal, mine.
- Prince. I did never see such pitiful rascals.
- Fal. Tut, tut! good enough to toss; food for powder, food for
- powder. They'll fill a pit as well as better. Tush, man, mortal
- men, mortal men.
- West. Ay, but, Sir John, methinks they are exceeding poor and bare-
- too beggarly.
- Fal. Faith, for their poverty, I know, not where they had that; and
- for their bareness, I am surd they never learn'd that of me.
- Prince. No, I'll be sworn, unless you call three fingers on the
- ribs bare. But, sirrah, make haste. Percy 's already in the
- field.
-Exit.
- Fal. What, is the King encamp'd?
- West. He is, Sir John. I fear we shall stay too long.
- [Exit.]
- Fal. Well,
- To the latter end of a fray and the beginning of a feast
- Fits a dull fighter and a keen guest. Exit.
-
-
-
-
-Scene III.
-The rebel camp near Shrewsbury.
-
-Enter Hotspur, Worcester, Douglas, Vernon.
-
- Hot. We'll fight with him to-night.
- Wor. It may not be.
- Doug. You give him then advantage.
- Ver. Not a whit.
- Hot. Why say you so? Looks he no for supply?
- Ver. So do we.
- Hot. His is certain, ours 's doubtful.
- Wor. Good cousin, be advis'd; stir not to-night.
- Ver. Do not, my lord.
- Doug. You do not counsel well.
- You speak it out of fear and cold heart.
- Ver. Do me no slander, Douglas. By my life-
- And I dare well maintain it with my life-
- If well-respected honour bid me on
- I hold as little counsel with weak fear
- As you, my lord, or any Scot that this day lives.
- Let it be seen to-morrow in the battle
- Which of us fears.
- Doug. Yea, or to-night.
- Ver. Content.
- Hot. To-night, say I.
- Come, come, it may not be. I wonder much,
- Being men of such great leading as you are,
- That you foresee not what impediments
- Drag back our expedition. Certain horse
- Of my cousin Vernon's are not yet come up.
- Your uncle Worcester's horse came but to-day;
- And now their pride and mettle is asleep,
- Their courage with hard labour tame and dull,
- That not a horse is half the half of himself.
- Hot. So are the horses of the enemy,
- In general journey-bated and brought low.
- The better part of ours are full of rest.
- Wor. The number of the King exceedeth ours.
- For God's sake, cousin, stay till all come in.
-
- The trumpet sounds a parley.
-
- Enter Sir Walter Blunt.
-
- Blunt. I come with gracious offers from the King,
- If you vouchsafe me hearing and respect.
- Hot. Welcome, Sir Walter Blunt, and would to God
- You were of our determination!
- Some of us love you well; and even those some
- Envy your great deservings and good name,
- Because you are not of our quality,
- But stand against us like an enemy.
- Blunt. And God defend but still I should stand so,
- So long as out of limit and true rule
- You stand against anointed majesty!
- But to my charge. The King hath sent to know
- The nature of your griefs; and whereupon
- You conjure from the breast of civil peace
- Such bold hostility, teaching his duteous land
- Audacious cruelty. If that the King
- Have any way your good deserts forgot,
- Which he confesseth to be manifold,
- He bids you name your griefs, and with all speed
- You shall have your desires with interest,
- And pardon absolute for yourself and these
- Herein misled by your suggestion.
- Hot. The King is kind; and well we know the King
- Knows at what time to promise, when to pay.
- My father and my uncle and myself
- Did give him that same royalty he wears;
- And when he was not six-and-twenty strong,
- Sick in the world's regard, wretched and low,
- A poor unminded outlaw sneaking home,
- My father gave him welcome to the shore;
- And when he heard him swear and vow to God
- He came but to be Duke of Lancaster,
- To sue his livery and beg his peace,
- With tears of innocency and terms of zeal,
- My father, in kind heart and pity mov'd,
- Swore him assistance, and performed it too.
- Now, when the lords and barons of the realm
- Perceiv'd Northumberland did lean to him,
- The more and less came in with cap and knee;
- Met him on boroughs, cities, villages,
- Attended him on bridges, stood in lanes,
- Laid gifts before him, proffer'd him their oaths,
- Give him their heirs as pages, followed him
- Even at the heels in golden multitudes.
- He presently, as greatness knows itself,
- Steps me a little higher than his vow
- Made to my father, while his blood was poor,
- Upon the naked shore at Ravenspurgh;
- And now, forsooth, takes on him to reform
- Some certain edicts and some strait decrees
- That lie too heavy on the commonwealth;
- Cries out upon abuses, seems to weep
- Over his country's wrongs; and by this face,
- This seeming brow of justice, did he win
- The hearts of all that he did angle for;
- Proceeded further- cut me off the heads
- Of all the favourites that the absent King
- In deputation left behind him here
- When he was personal in the Irish war.
- But. Tut! I came not to hear this.
- Hot. Then to the point.
- In short time after lie depos'd the King;
- Soon after that depriv'd him of his life;
- And in the neck of that task'd the whole state;
- To make that worse, suff'red his kinsman March
- (Who is, if every owner were well placid,
- Indeed his king) to be engag'd in Wales,
- There without ransom to lie forfeited;
- Disgrac'd me in my happy victories,
- Sought to entrap me by intelligence;
- Rated mine uncle from the Council board;
- In rage dismiss'd my father from the court;
- Broke an oath on oath, committed wrong on wrong;
- And in conclusion drove us to seek out
- This head of safety, and withal to pry
- Into his title, the which we find
- Too indirect for long continuance.
- Blunt. Shall I return this answer to the King?
- Hot. Not so, Sir Walter. We'll withdraw awhile.
- Go to the King; and let there be impawn'd
- Some surety for a safe return again,
- And In the morning early shall mine uncle
- Bring him our purposes; and so farewell.
- Blunt. I would you would accept of grace and love.
- Hot. And may be so we shall.
- Blunt. Pray God you do.
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-Scene IV.
-York. The Archbishop's Palace.
-
-Enter the Archbishop of York and Sir Michael.
-
- Arch. Hie, good Sir Michael; bear this sealed brief
- With winged haste to the Lord Marshal;
- This to my cousin Scroop; and all the rest
- To whom they are directed. If you knew
- How much they do import, you would make haste.
- Sir M. My good lord,
- I guess their tenour.
- Arch. Like enough you do.
- To-morrow, good Sir Michael, is a day
- Wherein the fortune of ten thousand men
- Must bide the touch; for, sir, at Shrewsbury,
- As I am truly given to understand,
- The King with mighty and quick-raised power
- Meets with Lord Harry; and I fear, Sir Michael,
- What with the sickness of Northumberland,
- Whose power was in the first proportion,
- And what with Owen Glendower's absence thence,
- Who with them was a rated sinew too
- And comes not in, overrul'd by prophecies-
- I fear the power of Percy is too weak
- To wage an instant trial with the King.
- Sir M. Why, my good lord, you need not fear;
- There is Douglas and Lord Mortimer.
- Arch. No, Mortimer is not there.
- Sir M. But there is Mordake, Vernon, Lord Harry Percy,
- And there is my Lord of Worcester, and a head
- Of gallant warriors, noble gentlemen.
- Arch. And so there is; but yet the King hath drawn
- The special head of all the land together-
- The Prince of Wales, Lord John of Lancaster,
- The noble Westmoreland and warlike Blunt,
- And many moe corrivals and dear men
- Of estimation and command in arms.
- Sir M. Doubt not, my lord, they shall be well oppos'd.
- Arch. I hope no less, yet needful 'tis to fear;
- And, to prevent the worst, Sir Michael, speed.
- For if Lord Percy thrive not, ere the King
- Dismiss his power, he means to visit us,
- For he hath heard of our confederacy,
- And 'tis but wisdom to make strong against him.
- Therefore make haste. I must go write again
- To other friends; and so farewell, Sir Michael.
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT V. Scene I.
-The King's camp near Shrewsbury.
-
-Enter the King, Prince of Wales, Lord John of Lancaster, Sir Walter Blunt,
-Falstaff.
-
- King. How bloodily the sun begins to peer
- Above yon busky hill! The day looks pale
- At his distemp'rature.
- Prince. The southern wind
- Doth play the trumpet to his purposes
- And by his hollow whistling in the leaves
- Foretells a tempest and a blust'ring day.
- King. Theft with the losers let it sympathize,
- For nothing can seem foul to those that win.
-
- The trumpet sounds. Enter Worcester [and Vernon].
-
- How, now, my Lord of Worcester? 'Tis not well
- That you and I should meet upon such terms
- As now we meet. You have deceiv'd our trust
- And made us doff our easy robes of peace
- To crush our old limbs in ungentle steel.
- This is not well, my lord; this is not well.
- What say you to it? Will you again unknit
- This churlish knot of all-abhorred war,
- And move in that obedient orb again
- Where you did give a fair and natural light,
- And be no more an exhal'd meteor,
- A prodigy of fear, and a portent
- Of broached mischief to the unborn times?
- Wor. Hear me, my liege.
- For mine own part, I could be well content
- To entertain the lag-end of my life
- With quiet hours; for I do protest
- I have not sought the day of this dislike.
- King. You have not sought it! How comes it then,
- Fal. Rebellion lay in his way, and he found it.
- Prince. Peace, chewet, peace!
- Wor. It pleas'd your Majesty to turn your looks
- Of favour from myself and all our house;
- And yet I must remember you, my lord,
- We were the first and dearest of your friends.
- For you my staff of office did I break
- In Richard's time, and posted day and night
- To meet you on the way and kiss your hand
- When yet you were in place and in account
- Nothing so strong and fortunate as I.
- It was myself, my brother, and his son
- That brought you home and boldly did outdare
- The dangers of the time. You swore to us,
- And you did swear that oath at Doncaster,
- That you did nothing purpose 'gainst the state,
- Nor claim no further than your new-fall'n right,
- The seat of Gaunt, dukedom of Lancaster.
- To this we swore our aid. But in short space
- It it rain'd down fortune show'ring on your head,
- And such a flood of greatness fell on you-
- What with our help, what with the absent King,
- What with the injuries of a wanton time,
- The seeming sufferances that you had borne,
- And the contrarious winds that held the King
- So long in his unlucky Irish wars
- That all in England did repute him dead-
- And from this swarm of fair advantages
- You took occasion to be quickly woo'd
- To gripe the general sway into your hand;
- Forgot your oath to us at Doncaster;
- And, being fed by us, you us'd us so
- As that ungentle gull, the cuckoo's bird,
- Useth the sparrow- did oppress our nest;
- Grew, by our feeding to so great a bulk
- That even our love thirst not come near your sight
- For fear of swallowing; but with nimble wing
- We were enforc'd for safety sake to fly
- Out of your sight and raise this present head;
- Whereby we stand opposed by such means
- As you yourself have forg'd against yourself
- By unkind usage, dangerous countenance,
- And violation of all faith and troth
- Sworn to tis in your younger enterprise.
- King. These things, indeed, you have articulate,
- Proclaim'd at market crosses, read in churches,
- To face the garment of rebellion
- With some fine colour that may please the eye
- Of fickle changelings and poor discontents,
- Which gape and rub the elbow at the news
- Of hurlyburly innovation.
- And never yet did insurrection want
- Such water colours to impaint his cause,
- Nor moody beggars, starving for a time
- Of pell-mell havoc and confusion.
- Prince. In both our armies there is many a soul
- Shall pay full dearly for this encounter,
- If once they join in trial. Tell your nephew
- The Prince of Wales doth join with all the world
- In praise of Henry Percy. By my hopes,
- This present enterprise set off his head,
- I do not think a braver gentleman,
- More active-valiant or more valiant-young,
- More daring or more bold, is now alive
- To grace this latter age with noble deeds.
- For my part, I may speak it to my shame,
- I have a truant been to chivalry;
- And so I hear he doth account me too.
- Yet this before my father's Majesty-
- I am content that he shall take the odds
- Of his great name and estimation,
- And will to save the blood on either side,
- Try fortune with him in a single fight.
- King. And, Prince of Wales, so dare we venture thee,
- Albeit considerations infinite
- Do make against it. No, good Worcester, no!
- We love our people well; even those we love
- That are misled upon your cousin's part;
- And, will they take the offer of our grace,
- Both he, and they, and you, yea, every man
- Shall be my friend again, and I'll be his.
- So tell your cousin, and bring me word
- What he will do. But if he will not yield,
- Rebuke and dread correction wait on us,
- And they shall do their office. So be gone.
- We will not now be troubled with reply.
- We offer fair; take it advisedly.
- Exit Worcester [with Vernon]
- Prince. It will not be accepted, on my life.
- The Douglas and the Hotspur both together
- Are confident against the world in arms.
- King. Hence, therefore, every leader to his charge;
- For, on their answer, will we set on them,
- And God befriend us as our cause is just!
- Exeunt. Manent Prince, Falstaff.
- Fal. Hal, if thou see me down in the battle and bestride me, so!
- 'Tis a point of friendship.
- Prince. Nothing but a Colossus can do thee that friendship.
- Say thy prayers, and farewell.
- Fal. I would 'twere bedtime, Hal, and all well.
- Prince. Why, thou owest God a death.
-Exit.
- Fal. 'Tis not due yet. I would be loath to pay him before his day.
- What need I be so forward with him that calls not on me? Well,
- 'tis no matter; honour pricks me on. Yea, but how if honour prick
- me off when I come on? How then? Can honor set to a leg? No. Or
- an arm? No. Or take away the grief of a wound? No. Honour hath no
- skill in surgery then? No. What is honour? A word. What is that
- word honour? Air. A trim reckoning! Who hath it? He that died a
- Wednesday. Doth he feel it? No. Doth be bear it? No. 'Tis
- insensible then? Yea, to the dead. But will it not live with the
- living? No. Why? Detraction will not suffer it. Therefore I'll
- none of it. Honour is a mere scutcheon- and so ends my catechism.
-Exit.
-
-
-
-
-Scene II.
-The rebel camp.
-
-Enter Worcester and Sir Richard Vernon.
-
- Wor. O no, my nephew must not know, Sir Richard,
- The liberal and kind offer of the King.
- Ver. 'Twere best he did.
- Wor. Then are we all undone.
- It is not possible, it cannot be
- The King should keep his word in loving us.
- He will suspect us still and find a time
- To punish this offence in other faults.
- Suspicion all our lives shall be stuck full of eyes;
- For treason is but trusted like the fox
- Who, ne'er so tame, so cherish'd and lock'd up,
- Will have a wild trick of his ancestors.
- Look how we can, or sad or merrily,
- Interpretation will misquote our looks,
- And we shall feed like oxen at a stall,
- The better cherish'd, still the nearer death.
- My nephew's trespass may be well forgot;
- It hath the excuse of youth and heat of blood,
- And an adopted name of privilege-
- A hare-brained Hotspur govern'd by a spleen.
- All his offences live upon my head
- And on his father's. We did train him on;
- And, his corruption being taken from us,
- We, as the spring of all, shall pay for all.
- Therefore, good cousin, let not Harry know,
- In any case, the offer of the King.
-
- Enter Hotspur [and Douglas].
-
- Ver. Deliver what you will, I'll say 'tis so.
- Here comes your cousin.
- Hot. My uncle is return'd.
- Deliver up my Lord of Westmoreland.
- Uncle, what news?
- Wor. The King will bid you battle presently.
- Doug. Defy him by the Lord Of Westmoreland.
- Hot. Lord Douglas, go you and tell him so.
- Doug. Marry, and shall, and very willingly.
-Exit.
- Wor. There is no seeming mercy in the King.
- Hot. Did you beg any, God forbid!
- Wor. I told him gently of our grievances,
- Of his oath-breaking; which he mended thus,
- By now forswearing that he is forsworn.
- He calls us rebels, traitors, aid will scourge
- With haughty arms this hateful name in us.
-
- Enter Douglas.
-
- Doug. Arm, gentlemen! to arms! for I have thrown
- A brave defiance in King Henry's teeth,
- And Westmoreland, that was engag'd, did bear it;
- Which cannot choose but bring him quickly on.
- Wor. The Prince of Wales stepp'd forth before the King
- And, nephew, challeng'd you to single fight.
- Hot. O, would the quarrel lay upon our heads,
- And that no man might draw short breath to-day
- But I and Harry Monmouth! Tell me, tell me,
- How show'd his tasking? Seem'd it in contempt?
- No, by my soul. I never in my life
- Did hear a challenge urg'd more modestly,
- Unless a brother should a brother dare
- To gentle exercise and proof of arms.
- He gave you all the duties of a man;
- Trimm'd up your praises with a princely tongue;
- Spoke your deservings like a chronicle;
- Making you ever better than his praise
- By still dispraising praise valued with you;
- And, which became him like a prince indeed,
- He made a blushing cital of himself,
- And chid his truant youth with such a grace
- As if lie mast'red there a double spirit
- Of teaching and of learning instantly.
- There did he pause; but let me tell the world,
- If he outlive the envy of this day,
- England did never owe so sweet a hope,
- So much misconstrued in his wantonness.
- Hot. Cousin, I think thou art enamoured
- Upon his follies. Never did I hear
- Of any prince so wild a libertine.
- But be he as he will, yet once ere night
- I will embrace him with a soldier's arm,
- That he shall shrink under my courtesy.
- Arm, arm with speed! and, fellows, soldiers, friends,
- Better consider what you have to do
- Than I, that have not well the gift of tongue,
- Can lift your blood up with persuasion.
-
- Enter a Messenger.
-
- Mess. My lord, here are letters for you.
- Hot. I cannot read them now.-
- O gentlemen, the time of life is short!
- To spend that shortness basely were too long
- If life did ride upon a dial's point,
- Still ending at the arrival of an hour.
- An if we live, we live to tread on kings;
- If die, brave death, when princes die with us!
- Now for our consciences, the arms are fair,
- When the intent of bearing them is just.
-
- Enter another Messenger.
-
- Mess. My lord, prepare. The King comes on apace.
- Hot. I thank him that he cuts me from my tale,
- For I profess not talking. Only this-
- Let each man do his best; and here draw I
- A sword whose temper I intend to stain
- With the best blood that I can meet withal
- In the adventure of this perilous day.
- Now, Esperance! Percy! and set on.
- Sound all the lofty instruments of war,
- And by that music let us all embrace;
- For, heaven to earth, some of us never shall
- A second time do such a courtesy.
- Here they embrace. The trumpets sound.
- [Exeunt.]
-
-
-
-
-Scene III.
-Plain between the camps.
-
-The King enters with his Power. Alarum to the battle. Then enter Douglas
-and Sir Walter Blunt.
-
- Blunt. What is thy name, that in the battle thus
- Thou crossest me? What honour dost thou seek
- Upon my head?
- Doug. Know then my name is Douglas,
- And I do haunt thee in the battle thus
- Because some tell me that thou art a king.
- Blunt. They tell thee true.
- Doug. The Lord of Stafford dear to-day hath bought
- Thy likeness; for instead of thee, King Harry,
- This sword hath ended him. So shall it thee,
- Unless thou yield thee as my prisoner.
- Blunt. I was not born a yielder, thou proud Scot;
- And thou shalt find a king that will revenge
- Lord Stafford's death.
-
- They fight. Douglas kills Blunt. Then enter Hotspur.
-
- Hot. O Douglas, hadst thou fought at Holmedon thus,
- I never had triumph'd upon a Scot.
- Doug. All's done, all's won. Here breathless lies the King.
- Hot. Where?
- Doug. Here.
- Hot. This, Douglas? No. I know this face full well.
- A gallant knight he was, his name was Blunt;
- Semblably furnish'd like the King himself.
- Doug. A fool go with thy soul, whither it goes!
- A borrowed title hast thou bought too dear:
- Why didst thou tell me that thou wert a king?
- Hot. The King hath many marching in his coats.
- Doug. Now, by my sword, I will kill all his coats;
- I'll murder all his wardrop, piece by piece,
- Until I meet the King.
- Hot. Up and away!
- Our soldiers stand full fairly for the day.
- Exeunt.
-
- Alarum. Enter Falstaff solus.
-
- Fal. Though I could scape shot-free at London, I fear the shot
- here. Here's no scoring but upon the pate. Soft! who are you?
- Sir Walter Blunt. There's honour for you! Here's no vanity! I am
- as hot as molten lead, and as heavy too. God keep lead out of me!
- I need no more weight than mine own bowels. I have led my
- rag-of-muffins where they are pepper'd. There's not three of my
- hundred and fifty left alive; and they are for the town's end, to
- beg during life. But who comes here?
-
- Enter the Prince.
-
- Prince. What, stand'st thou idle here? Lend me thy sword.
- Many a nobleman lies stark and stiff
- Under the hoofs of vaunting enemies,
- Whose deaths are yet unreveng'd. I prithee
- Rend me thy sword.
- Fal. O Hal, I prithee give me leave to breathe awhile. Turk Gregory
- never did such deeds in arms as I have done this day. I have paid
- Percy; I have made him sure.
- Prince. He is indeed, and living to kill thee.
- I prithee lend me thy sword.
- Fal. Nay, before God, Hal, if Percy be alive, thou get'st not my
- sword; but take my pistol, if thou wilt.
- Prince. Give it me. What, is it in the case?
- Fal. Ay, Hal. 'Tis hot, 'tis hot. There's that will sack a city.
-
- The Prince draws it out and finds it to he a bottle of sack.
-
- What, is it a time to jest and dally now?
- He throws the bottle at him. Exit.
- Fal. Well, if Percy be alive, I'll pierce him. If he do come in my
- way, so; if he do not, if I come in his willingly, let him make a
- carbonado of me. I like not such grinning honour as Sir Walter
- hath. Give me life; which if I can save, so; if not, honour comes
- unlook'd for, and there's an end. Exit.
-
-
-
-
-Scene IV.
-Another part of the field.
-
-Alarum. Excursions. Enter the King, the Prince, Lord John of Lancaster,
-Earl of Westmoreland
-
- King. I prithee,
- Harry, withdraw thyself; thou bleedest too much.
- Lord John of Lancaster, go you unto him.
- John. Not I, my lord, unless I did bleed too.
- Prince. I do beseech your Majesty make up,
- Lest Your retirement do amaze your friends.
- King. I will do so.
- My Lord of Westmoreland, lead him to his tent.
- West. Come, my lord, I'll lead you to your tent.
- Prince. Lead me, my lord, I do not need your help;
- And God forbid a shallow scratch should drive
- The Prince of Wales from such a field as this,
- Where stain'd nobility lies trodden on,
- And rebels' arms triumph in massacres!
- John. We breathe too long. Come, cousin Westmoreland,
- Our duty this way lies. For God's sake, come.
- [Exeunt Prince John and Westmoreland.]
- Prince. By God, thou hast deceiv'd me, Lancaster!
- I did not think thee lord of such a spirit.
- Before, I lov'd thee as a brother, John;
- But now, I do respect thee as my soul.
- King. I saw him hold Lord Percy at the point
- With lustier maintenance than I did look for
- Of such an ungrown warrior.
- Prince. O, this boy
- Lends mettle to us all! Exit.
-
- Enter Douglas.
-
- Doug. Another king? They grow like Hydra's heads.
- I am the Douglas, fatal to all those
- That wear those colours on them. What art thou
- That counterfeit'st the person of a king?
- King. The King himself, who, Douglas, grieves at heart
- So many of his shadows thou hast met,
- And not the very King. I have two boys
- Seek Percy and thyself about the field;
- But, seeing thou fall'st on me so luckily,
- I will assay thee. So defend thyself.
- Doug. I fear thou art another counterfeit;
- And yet, in faith, thou bearest thee like a king.
- But mine I am sure thou art, whoe'er thou be,
- And thus I win thee.
-
- They fight. The King being in danger, enter Prince of Wales.
-
- Prince. Hold up thy head, vile Scot, or thou art like
- Never to hold it up again! The spirits
- Of valiant Shirley, Stafford, Blunt are in my arms.
- It is the Prince of Wales that threatens thee,
- Who never promiseth but he means to pay.
- They fight. Douglas flieth.
- Cheerly, my lord. How fares your Grace?
- Sir Nicholas Gawsey hath for succour sent,
- And so hath Clifton. I'll to Clifton straight.
- King. Stay and breathe awhile.
- Thou hast redeem'd thy lost opinion,
- And show'd thou mak'st some tender of my life,
- In this fair rescue thou hast brought to me.
- Prince. O God! they did me too much injury
- That ever said I heark'ned for your death.
- If it were so, I might have let alone
- The insulting hand of Douglas over you,
- Which would have been as speedy in your end
- As all the poisonous potions in the world,
- And sav'd the treacherous labour of your son.
- King. Make up to Clifton; I'll to Sir Nicholas Gawsey.
-Exit.
-
- Enter Hotspur.
-
- Hot. If I mistake not, thou art Harry Monmouth.
- Prince. Thou speak'st as if I would deny my name.
- Hot. My name is Harry Percy.
- Prince. Why, then I see
- A very valiant rebel of the name.
- I am the Prince of Wales; and think not, Percy,
- To share with me in glory any more.
- Two stars keep not their motion in one sphere,
- Nor can one England brook a double reign
- Of Harry Percy and the Prince of Wales.
- Hot. Nor shall it, Harry; for the hour is come
- To end the one of us and would to God
- Thy name in arms were now as great as mine!
- Prince. I'll make it greater ere I part from thee,
- And all the budding honours on thy crest
- I'll crop to make a garland for my head.
- Hot. I can no longer brook thy vanities.
- They fight.
-
- Enter Falstaff.
-
- Fal. Well said, Hal! to it, Hal! Nay, you shall find no boy's play
- here, I can tell you.
-
- Enter Douglas. He fighteth with Falstaff, who falls down as if
- he were dead. [Exit Douglas.] The Prince killeth Percy.
-
- Hot. O Harry, thou hast robb'd me of my youth!
- I better brook the loss of brittle life
- Than those proud titles thou hast won of me.
- They wound my thoughts worse than thy sword my flesh.
- But thoughts the slave, of life, and life time's fool,
- And time, that takes survey of all the world,
- Must have a stop. O, I could prophesy,
- But that the earthy and cold hand of death
- Lies on my tongue. No, Percy, thou art dust,
- And food for- [Dies.]
- Prince. For worms, brave Percy. Fare thee well, great heart!
- Ill-weav'd ambition, how much art thou shrunk!
- When that this body did contain a spirit,
- A kingdom for it was too small a bound;
- But now two paces of the vilest earth
- Is room enough. This earth that bears thee dead
- Bears not alive so stout a gentleman.
- If thou wert sensible of courtesy,
- I should not make so dear a show of zeal.
- But let my favours hide thy mangled face;
- And, even in thy behalf, I'll thank myself
- For doing these fair rites of tenderness.
- Adieu, and take thy praise with thee to heaven!
- Thy ignominy sleep with thee in the grave,
- But not rememb'red in thy epitaph!
- He spieth Falstaff on the ground.
- What, old acquaintance? Could not all this flesh
- Keep in a little life? Poor Jack, farewell!
- I could have better spar'd a better man.
- O, I should have a heavy miss of thee
- If I were much in love with vanity!
- Death hath not struck so fat a deer to-day,
- Though many dearer, in this bloody fray.
- Embowell'd will I see thee by-and-by;
- Till then in blood by noble Percy lie. Exit.
-
- Falstaff riseth up.
-
- Fal. Embowell'd? If thou embowel me to-day, I'll give you leave to
- powder me and eat me too to-morrow. 'Sblood, 'twas time to
- counterfeit, or that hot termagant Scot had paid me scot and lot
- too. Counterfeit? I lie; I am no counterfeit. To die is to be a
- counterfeit; for he is but the counterfeit of a man who hath not
- the life of a man; but to counterfeit dying when a man thereby
- liveth, is to be no counterfeit, but the true and perfect image
- of life indeed. The better part of valour is discretion; in the
- which better part I have saved my life. Zounds, I am afraid of
- this gunpowder Percy, though he be dead. How if he should
- counterfeit too, and rise? By my faith, I am afraid he would
- prove the better counterfeit. Therefore I'll make him sure; yea,
- and I'll swear I kill'd him. Why may not he rise as well as I?
- Nothing confutes me but eyes, and nobody sees me. Therefore,
- sirrah [stabs him], with a new wound in your thigh, come you
- along with me.
-
- He takes up Hotspur on his hack. [Enter Prince, and John of
- Lancaster.
-
- Prince. Come, brother John; full bravely hast thou flesh'd
- Thy maiden sword.
- John. But, soft! whom have we here?
- Did you not tell me this fat man was dead?
- Prince. I did; I saw him dead,
- Breathless and bleeding on the ground. Art thou alive,
- Or is it fantasy that plays upon our eyesight?
- I prithee speak. We will not trust our eyes
- Without our ears. Thou art not what thou seem'st.
- Fal. No, that's certain! I am not a double man; but if I be not
- Jack Falstaff, then am I a Jack. There 's Percy. If your father
- will do me any honour, so; if not, let him kill the next Percy
- himself. I look to be either earl or duke, I can assure you.
- Prince. Why, Percy I kill'd myself, and saw thee dead!
- Fal. Didst thou? Lord, Lord, how this world is given to lying! I
- grant you I was down, and out of breath, and so was he; but we
- rose both at an instant and fought a long hour by Shrewsbury
- clock. If I may be believ'd, so; if not, let them that should
- reward valour bear the sin upon their own heads. I'll take it
- upon my death, I gave him this wound in the thigh. If the man
- were alive and would deny it, zounds! I would make him eat a
- piece of my sword.
- John. This is the strangest tale that ever I beard.
- Prince. This is the strangest fellow, brother John.
- Come, bring your luggage nobly on your back.
- For my part, if a lie may do thee grace,
- I'll gild it with the happiest terms I have.
- A retreat is sounded.
- The trumpet sounds retreat; the day is ours.
- Come, brother, let's to the highest of the field,
- To see what friends are living, who are dead.
- Exeunt [Prince Henry and Prince John].
- Fal. I'll follow, as they say, for reward. He that rewards me, God
- reward him! If I do grow great, I'll grow less; for I'll purge,
- and leave sack, and live cleanly, as a nobleman should do.
- Exit [bearing off the body].
-
-
-
-
-Scene V.
-Another part of the field.
-
-The trumpets sound. [Enter the King, Prince of Wales, Lord John of Lancaster,
-Earl of Westmoreland, with Worcester and Vernon prisoners.
-
- King. Thus ever did rebellion find rebuke.
- Ill-spirited Worcester! did not we send grace,
- Pardon, and terms of love to all of you?
- And wouldst thou turn our offers contrary?
- Misuse the tenour of thy kinsman's trust?
- Three knights upon our party slain to-day,
- A noble earl, and many a creature else
- Had been alive this hour,
- If like a Christian thou hadst truly borne
- Betwixt our armies true intelligence.
- Wor. What I have done my safety urg'd me to;
- And I embrace this fortune patiently,
- Since not to be avoided it fails on me.
- King. Bear Worcester to the death, and Vernon too;
- Other offenders we will pause upon.
- Exeunt Worcester and Vernon, [guarded].
- How goes the field?
- Prince. The noble Scot, Lord Douglas, when he saw
- The fortune of the day quite turn'd from him,
- The Noble Percy slain and all his men
- Upon the foot of fear, fled with the rest;
- And falling from a hill,he was so bruis'd
- That the pursuers took him. At my tent
- The Douglas is, and I beseech Your Grace
- I may dispose of him.
- King. With all my heart.
- Prince. Then brother John of Lancaster, to you
- This honourable bounty shall belong.
- Go to the Douglas and deliver him
- Up to his pleasure, ransomless and free.
- His valour shown upon our crests today
- Hath taught us how to cherish such high deeds,
- Even in the bosom of our adversaries.
- John. I thank your Grace for this high courtesy,
- Which I shall give away immediately.
- King. Then this remains, that we divide our power.
- You, son John, and my cousin Westmoreland,
- Towards York shall bend you with your dearest speed
- To meet Northumberland and the prelate Scroop,
- Who, as we hear, are busily in arms.
- Myself and you, son Harry, will towards Wales
- To fight with Glendower and the Earl of March.
- Rebellion in this laud shall lose his sway,
- Meeting the check of such another day;
- And since this business so fair is done,
- Let us not leave till all our own be won.
- Exeunt.
-
-
-THE END
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-
-
-1598
-
-
-SECOND PART OF KING HENRY IV
-
-by William Shakespeare
-
-
-
-Dramatis Personae
-
- RUMOUR, the Presenter
- KING HENRY THE FOURTH
-
- HENRY, PRINCE OF WALES, afterwards HENRY
- PRINCE JOHN OF LANCASTER
- PRINCE HUMPHREY OF GLOUCESTER
- THOMAS, DUKE OF CLARENCE
- Sons of Henry IV
-
- EARL OF NORTHUMBERLAND
- SCROOP, ARCHBISHOP OF YORK
- LORD MOWBRAY
- LORD HASTINGS
- LORD BARDOLPH
- SIR JOHN COLVILLE
- TRAVERS and MORTON, retainers of Northumberland
- Opposites against King Henry IV
-
- EARL OF WARWICK
- EARL OF WESTMORELAND
- EARL OF SURREY
- EARL OF KENT
- GOWER
- HARCOURT
- BLUNT
- Of the King's party
-
- LORD CHIEF JUSTICE
- SERVANT, to Lord Chief Justice
-
- SIR JOHN FALSTAFF
- EDWARD POINS
- BARDOLPH
- PISTOL
- PETO
- Irregular humourists
-
- PAGE, to Falstaff
-
- ROBERT SHALLOW and SILENCE, country Justices
- DAVY, servant to Shallow
-
- FANG and SNARE, Sheriff's officers
-
- RALPH MOULDY
- SIMON SHADOW
- THOMAS WART
- FRANCIS FEEBLE
- PETER BULLCALF
- Country soldiers
-
- FRANCIS, a drawer
-
- LADY NORTHUMBERLAND
- LADY PERCY, Percy's widow
- HOSTESS QUICKLY, of the Boar's Head, Eastcheap
- DOLL TEARSHEET
-
- LORDS, Attendants, Porter, Drawers, Beadles, Grooms, Servants,
- Speaker of the Epilogue
-
- SCENE: England
-
-INDUCTION
- INDUCTION.
- Warkworth. Before NORTHUMBERLAND'S Castle
-
- Enter RUMOUR, painted full of tongues
-
- RUMOUR. Open your ears; for which of you will stop
- The vent of hearing when loud Rumour speaks?
- I, from the orient to the drooping west,
- Making the wind my post-horse, still unfold
- The acts commenced on this ball of earth.
- Upon my tongues continual slanders ride,
- The which in every language I pronounce,
- Stuffing the ears of men with false reports.
- I speak of peace while covert emnity,
- Under the smile of safety, wounds the world;
- And who but Rumour, who but only I,
- Make fearful musters and prepar'd defence,
- Whiles the big year, swoln with some other grief,
- Is thought with child by the stern tyrant war,
- And no such matter? Rumour is a pipe
- Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures,
- And of so easy and so plain a stop
- That the blunt monster with uncounted heads,
- The still-discordant wav'ring multitude,
- Can play upon it. But what need I thus
- My well-known body to anatomize
- Among my household? Why is Rumour here?
- I run before King Harry's victory,
- Who, in a bloody field by Shrewsbury,
- Hath beaten down young Hotspur and his troops,
- Quenching the flame of bold rebellion
- Even with the rebels' blood. But what mean I
- To speak so true at first? My office is
- To noise abroad that Harry Monmouth fell
- Under the wrath of noble Hotspur's sword,
- And that the King before the Douglas' rage
- Stoop'd his anointed head as low as death.
- This have I rumour'd through the peasant towns
- Between that royal field of Shrewsbury
- And this worm-eaten hold of ragged stone,
- Where Hotspur's father, old Northumberland,
- Lies crafty-sick. The posts come tiring on,
- And not a man of them brings other news
- Than they have learnt of me. From Rumour's tongues
- They bring smooth comforts false, worse than true wrongs.
- Exit
-
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-ACT I. SCENE I.
-Warkworth. Before NORTHUMBERLAND'S Castle
-
-Enter LORD BARDOLPH
-
- LORD BARDOLPH. Who keeps the gate here, ho?
-
- The PORTER opens the gate
-
- Where is the Earl?
- PORTER. What shall I say you are?
- LORD BARDOLPH. Tell thou the Earl
- That the Lord Bardolph doth attend him here.
- PORTER. His lordship is walk'd forth into the orchard.
- Please it your honour knock but at the gate,
- And he himself will answer.
-
- Enter NORTHUMBERLAND
-
- LORD BARDOLPH. Here comes the Earl. Exit PORTER
- NORTHUMBERLAND. What news, Lord Bardolph? Every minute now
- Should be the father of some stratagem.
- The times are wild; contention, like a horse
- Full of high feeding, madly hath broke loose
- And bears down all before him.
- LORD BARDOLPH. Noble Earl,
- I bring you certain news from Shrewsbury.
- NORTHUMBERLAND. Good, an God will!
- LORD BARDOLPH. As good as heart can wish.
- The King is almost wounded to the death;
- And, in the fortune of my lord your son,
- Prince Harry slain outright; and both the Blunts
- Kill'd by the hand of Douglas; young Prince John,
- And Westmoreland, and Stafford, fled the field;
- And Harry Monmouth's brawn, the hulk Sir John,
- Is prisoner to your son. O, such a day,
- So fought, so followed, and so fairly won,
- Came not till now to dignify the times,
- Since Cxsar's fortunes!
- NORTHUMBERLAND. How is this deriv'd?
- Saw you the field? Came you from Shrewsbury?
- LORD BARDOLPH. I spake with one, my lord, that came from thence;
- A gentleman well bred and of good name,
- That freely rend'red me these news for true.
-
- Enter TRAVERS
-
- NORTHUMBERLAND. Here comes my servant Travers, whom I sent
- On Tuesday last to listen after news.
- LORD BARDOLPH. My lord, I over-rode him on the way;
- And he is furnish'd with no certainties
- More than he haply may retail from me.
- NORTHUMBERLAND. Now, Travers, what good tidings comes with you?
- TRAVERS. My lord, Sir John Umfrevile turn'd me back
- With joyful tidings; and, being better hors'd,
- Out-rode me. After him came spurring hard
- A gentleman, almost forspent with speed,
- That stopp'd by me to breathe his bloodied horse.
- He ask'd the way to Chester; and of him
- I did demand what news from Shrewsbury.
- He told me that rebellion had bad luck,
- And that young Harry Percy's spur was cold.
- With that he gave his able horse the head
- And, bending forward, struck his armed heels
- Against the panting sides of his poor jade
- Up to the rowel-head; and starting so,
- He seem'd in running to devour the way,
- Staying no longer question.
- NORTHUMBERLAND. Ha! Again:
- Said he young Harry Percy's spur was cold?
- Of Hotspur, Coldspur? that rebellion
- Had met ill luck?
- LORD BARDOLPH. My lord, I'll tell you what:
- If my young lord your son have not the day,
- Upon mine honour, for a silken point
- I'll give my barony. Never talk of it.
- NORTHUMBERLAND. Why should that gentleman that rode by Travers
- Give then such instances of loss?
- LORD BARDOLPH. Who- he?
- He was some hilding fellow that had stol'n
- The horse he rode on and, upon my life,
- Spoke at a venture. Look, here comes more news.
-
- Enter Morton
-
- NORTHUMBERLAND. Yea, this man's brow, like to a title-leaf,
- Foretells the nature of a tragic volume.
- So looks the strand whereon the imperious flood
- Hath left a witness'd usurpation.
- Say, Morton, didst thou come from Shrewsbury?
- MORTON. I ran from Shrewsbury, my noble lord;
- Where hateful death put on his ugliest mask
- To fright our party.
- NORTHUMBERLAND. How doth my son and brother?
- Thou tremblest; and the whiteness in thy cheek
- Is apter than thy tongue to tell thy errand.
- Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless,
- So dull, so dread in look, so woe-begone,
- Drew Priam's curtain in the dead of night
- And would have told him half his Troy was burnt;
- But Priam found the fire ere he his tongue,
- And I my Percy's death ere thou report'st it.
- This thou wouldst say: 'Your son did thus and thus;
- Your brother thus; so fought the noble Douglas'-
- Stopping my greedy ear with their bold deeds;
- But in the end, to stop my ear indeed,
- Thou hast a sigh to blow away this praise,
- Ending with 'Brother, son, and all, are dead.'
- MORTON. Douglas is living, and your brother, yet;
- But for my lord your son-
- NORTHUMBERLAND. Why, he is dead.
- See what a ready tongue suspicion hath!
- He that but fears the thing he would not know
- Hath by instinct knowledge from others' eyes
- That what he fear'd is chanced. Yet speak, Morton;
- Tell thou an earl his divination lies,
- And I will take it as a sweet disgrace
- And make thee rich for doing me such wrong.
- MORTON. You are too great to be by me gainsaid;
- Your spirit is too true, your fears too certain.
- NORTHUMBERLAND. Yet, for all this, say not that Percy's dead.
- I see a strange confession in thine eye;
- Thou shak'st thy head, and hold'st it fear or sin
- To speak a truth. If he be slain, say so:
- The tongue offends not that reports his death;
- And he doth sin that doth belie the dead,
- Not he which says the dead is not alive.
- Yet the first bringer of unwelcome news
- Hath but a losing office, and his tongue
- Sounds ever after as a sullen bell,
- Rememb'red tolling a departing friend.
- LORD BARDOLPH. I cannot think, my lord, your son is dead.
- MORTON. I am sorry I should force you to believe
- That which I would to God I had not seen;
- But these mine eyes saw him in bloody state,
- Rend'ring faint quittance, wearied and out-breath'd,
- To Harry Monmouth, whose swift wrath beat down
- The never-daunted Percy to the earth,
- From whence with life he never more sprung up.
- In few, his death- whose spirit lent a fire
- Even to the dullest peasant in his camp-
- Being bruited once, took fire and heat away
- From the best-temper'd courage in his troops;
- For from his metal was his party steeled;
- Which once in him abated, an the rest
- Turn'd on themselves, like dull and heavy lead.
- And as the thing that's heavy in itself
- Upon enforcement flies with greatest speed,
- So did our men, heavy in Hotspur's loss,
- Lend to this weight such lightness with their fear
- That arrows fled not swifter toward their aim
- Than did our soldiers, aiming at their safety,
- Fly from the field. Then was that noble Worcester
- Too soon ta'en prisoner; and that furious Scot,
- The bloody Douglas, whose well-labouring sword
- Had three times slain th' appearance of the King,
- Gan vail his stomach and did grace the shame
- Of those that turn'd their backs, and in his flight,
- Stumbling in fear, was took. The sum of all
- Is that the King hath won, and hath sent out
- A speedy power to encounter you, my lord,
- Under the conduct of young Lancaster
- And Westmoreland. This is the news at full.
- NORTHUMBERLAND. For this I shall have time enough to mourn.
- In poison there is physic; and these news,
- Having been well, that would have made me sick,
- Being sick, have in some measure made me well;
- And as the wretch whose fever-weak'ned joints,
- Like strengthless hinges, buckle under life,
- Impatient of his fit, breaks like a fire
- Out of his keeper's arms, even so my limbs,
- Weak'ned with grief, being now enrag'd with grief,
- Are thrice themselves. Hence, therefore, thou nice crutch!
- A scaly gauntlet now with joints of steel
- Must glove this hand; and hence, thou sickly coif!
- Thou art a guard too wanton for the head
- Which princes, flesh'd with conquest, aim to hit.
- Now bind my brows with iron; and approach
- The ragged'st hour that time and spite dare bring
- To frown upon th' enrag'd Northumberland!
- Let heaven kiss earth! Now let not Nature's hand
- Keep the wild flood confin'd! Let order die!
- And let this world no longer be a stage
- To feed contention in a ling'ring act;
- But let one spirit of the first-born Cain
- Reign in all bosoms, that, each heart being set
- On bloody courses, the rude scene may end
- And darkness be the burier of the dead!
- LORD BARDOLPH. This strained passion doth you wrong, my lord.
- MORTON. Sweet Earl, divorce not wisdom from your honour.
- The lives of all your loving complices
- Lean on your health; the which, if you give o'er
- To stormy passion, must perforce decay.
- You cast th' event of war, my noble lord,
- And summ'd the account of chance before you said
- 'Let us make head.' It was your pre-surmise
- That in the dole of blows your son might drop.
- You knew he walk'd o'er perils on an edge,
- More likely to fall in than to get o'er;
- You were advis'd his flesh was capable
- Of wounds and scars, and that his forward spirit
- Would lift him where most trade of danger rang'd;
- Yet did you say 'Go forth'; and none of this,
- Though strongly apprehended, could restrain
- The stiff-borne action. What hath then befall'n,
- Or what hath this bold enterprise brought forth
- More than that being which was like to be?
- LORD BARDOLPH. We all that are engaged to this loss
- Knew that we ventured on such dangerous seas
- That if we wrought out life 'twas ten to one;
- And yet we ventur'd, for the gain propos'd
- Chok'd the respect of likely peril fear'd;
- And since we are o'erset, venture again.
- Come, we will put forth, body and goods.
- MORTON. 'Tis more than time. And, my most noble lord,
- I hear for certain, and dare speak the truth:
- The gentle Archbishop of York is up
- With well-appointed pow'rs. He is a man
- Who with a double surety binds his followers.
- My lord your son had only but the corpse,
- But shadows and the shows of men, to fight;
- For that same word 'rebellion' did divide
- The action of their bodies from their souls;
- And they did fight with queasiness, constrain'd,
- As men drink potions; that their weapons only
- Seem'd on our side, but for their spirits and souls
- This word 'rebellion'- it had froze them up,
- As fish are in a pond. But now the Bishop
- Turns insurrection to religion.
- Suppos'd sincere and holy in his thoughts,
- He's follow'd both with body and with mind;
- And doth enlarge his rising with the blood
- Of fair King Richard, scrap'd from Pomfret stones;
- Derives from heaven his quarrel and his cause;
- Tells them he doth bestride a bleeding land,
- Gasping for life under great Bolingbroke;
- And more and less do flock to follow him.
- NORTHUMBERLAND. I knew of this before; but, to speak truth,
- This present grief had wip'd it from my mind.
- Go in with me; and counsel every man
- The aptest way for safety and revenge.
- Get posts and letters, and make friends with speed-
- Never so few, and never yet more need. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-London. A street
-
-Enter SIR JOHN FALSTAFF, with his PAGE bearing his sword and buckler
-
- FALSTAFF. Sirrah, you giant, what says the doctor to my water?
- PAGE. He said, sir, the water itself was a good healthy water; but
- for the party that owed it, he might have moe diseases than he
- knew for.
- FALSTAFF. Men of all sorts take a pride to gird at me. The brain of
- this foolish-compounded clay, man, is not able to invent anything
- that intends to laughter, more than I invent or is invented on
- me. I am not only witty in myself, but the cause that wit is in
- other men. I do here walk before thee like a sow that hath
- overwhelm'd all her litter but one. If the Prince put thee into
- my service for any other reason than to set me off, why then I
- have no judgment. Thou whoreson mandrake, thou art fitter to be
- worn in my cap than to wait at my heels. I was never mann'd with
- an agate till now; but I will inset you neither in gold nor
- silver, but in vile apparel, and send you back again to your
- master, for a jewel- the juvenal, the Prince your master, whose
- chin is not yet fledge. I will sooner have a beard grow in the
- palm of my hand than he shall get one off his cheek; and yet he
- will not stick to say his face is a face-royal. God may finish it
- when he will, 'tis not a hair amiss yet. He may keep it still at
- a face-royal, for a barber shall never earn sixpence out of it;
- and yet he'll be crowing as if he had writ man ever since his
- father was a bachelor. He may keep his own grace, but he's almost
- out of mine, I can assure him. What said Master Dommelton about
- the satin for my short cloak and my slops?
- PAGE. He said, sir, you should procure him better assurance than
- Bardolph. He would not take his band and yours; he liked not the
- security.
- FALSTAFF. Let him be damn'd, like the Glutton; pray God his tongue
- be hotter! A whoreson Achitophel! A rascal-yea-forsooth knave, to
- bear a gentleman in hand, and then stand upon security! The
- whoreson smooth-pates do now wear nothing but high shoes, and
- bunches of keys at their girdles; and if a man is through with
- them in honest taking-up, then they must stand upon security. I
- had as lief they would put ratsbane in my mouth as offer to stop
- it with security. I look'd 'a should have sent me two and twenty
- yards of satin, as I am a true knight, and he sends me security.
- Well, he may sleep in security; for he hath the horn of
- abundance, and the lightness of his wife shines through it; and
- yet cannot he see, though he have his own lanthorn to light him.
- Where's Bardolph?
- PAGE. He's gone into Smithfield to buy your worship horse.
- FALSTAFF. I bought him in Paul's, and he'll buy me a horse in
- Smithfield. An I could get me but a wife in the stews, I were
- mann'd, hors'd, and wiv'd.
-
- Enter the LORD CHIEF JUSTICE and SERVANT
-
- PAGE. Sir, here comes the nobleman that committed the
- Prince for striking him about Bardolph.
- FALSTAFF. Wait close; I will not see him.
- CHIEF JUSTICE. What's he that goes there?
- SERVANT. Falstaff, an't please your lordship.
- CHIEF JUSTICE. He that was in question for the robb'ry?
- SERVANT. He, my lord; but he hath since done good service at
- Shrewsbury, and, as I hear, is now going with some charge to the
- Lord John of Lancaster.
- CHIEF JUSTICE. What, to York? Call him back again.
- SERVANT. Sir John Falstaff!
- FALSTAFF. Boy, tell him I am deaf.
- PAGE. You must speak louder; my master is deaf.
- CHIEF JUSTICE. I am sure he is, to the hearing of anything good.
- Go, pluck him by the elbow; I must speak with him.
- SERVANT. Sir John!
- FALSTAFF. What! a young knave, and begging! Is there not wars? Is
- there not employment? Doth not the King lack subjects? Do not the
- rebels need soldiers? Though it be a shame to be on any side but
- one, it is worse shame to beg than to be on the worst side, were
- it worse than the name of rebellion can tell how to make it.
- SERVANT. You mistake me, sir.
- FALSTAFF. Why, sir, did I say you were an honest man? Setting my
- knighthood and my soldiership aside, I had lied in my throat if I
- had said so.
- SERVANT. I pray you, sir, then set your knighthood and your
- soldiership aside; and give me leave to tell you you in your
- throat, if you say I am any other than an honest man.
- FALSTAFF. I give thee leave to tell me so! I lay aside that which
- grows to me! If thou get'st any leave of me, hang me; if thou
- tak'st leave, thou wert better be hang'd. You hunt counter.
- Hence! Avaunt!
- SERVANT. Sir, my lord would speak with you.
- CHIEF JUSTICE. Sir John Falstaff, a word with you.
- FALSTAFF. My good lord! God give your lordship good time of day. I
- am glad to see your lordship abroad. I heard say your lordship
- was sick; I hope your lordship goes abroad by advice. Your
- lordship, though not clean past your youth, hath yet some smack
- of age in you, some relish of the saltness of time; and I most
- humbly beseech your lordship to have a reverend care of your
- health.
- CHIEF JUSTICE. Sir John, I sent for you before your expedition to
- Shrewsbury.
- FALSTAFF. An't please your lordship, I hear his Majesty is return'd
- with some discomfort from Wales.
- CHIEF JUSTICE. I talk not of his Majesty. You would not come when I
- sent for you.
- FALSTAFF. And I hear, moreover, his Highness is fall'n into this
- same whoreson apoplexy.
- CHIEF JUSTICE. Well God mend him! I pray you let me speak with you.
- FALSTAFF. This apoplexy, as I take it, is a kind of lethargy, an't
- please your lordship, a kind of sleeping in the blood, a whoreson
- tingling.
- CHIEF JUSTICE. What tell you me of it? Be it as it is.
- FALSTAFF. It hath it original from much grief, from study, and
- perturbation of the brain. I have read the cause of his effects
- in Galen; it is a kind of deafness.
- CHIEF JUSTICE. I think you are fall'n into the disease, for you
- hear not what I say to you.
- FALSTAFF. Very well, my lord, very well. Rather an't please you, it
- is the disease of not listening, the malady of not marking, that
- I am troubled withal.
- CHIEF JUSTICE. To punish you by the heels would amend the attention
- of your ears; and I care not if I do become your physician.
- FALSTAFF. I am as poor as Job, my lord, but not so patient. Your
- lordship may minister the potion of imprisonment to me in respect
- of poverty; but how I should be your patient to follow your
- prescriptions, the wise may make some dram of a scruple, or
- indeed a scruple itself.
- CHIEF JUSTICE. I sent for you, when there were matters against you
- for your life, to come speak with me.
- FALSTAFF. As I was then advis'd by my learned counsel in the laws
- of this land-service, I did not come.
- CHIEF JUSTICE. Well, the truth is, Sir John, you live in great
- infamy.
- FALSTAFF. He that buckles himself in my belt cannot live in less.
- CHIEF JUSTICE. Your means are very slender, and your waste is
- great.
- FALSTAFF. I would it were otherwise; I would my means were greater
- and my waist slenderer.
- CHIEF JUSTICE. You have misled the youthful Prince.
- FALSTAFF. The young Prince hath misled me. I am the fellow with the
- great belly, and he my dog.
- CHIEF JUSTICE. Well, I am loath to gall a new-heal'd wound. Your
- day's service at Shrewsbury hath a little gilded over your
- night's exploit on Gadshill. You may thank th' unquiet time for
- your quiet o'erposting that action.
- FALSTAFF. My lord-
- CHIEF JUSTICE. But since all is well, keep it so: wake not a
- sleeping wolf.
- FALSTAFF. To wake a wolf is as bad as smell a fox.
- CHIEF JUSTICE. What! you are as a candle, the better part burnt
- out.
- FALSTAFF. A wassail candle, my lord- all tallow; if I did say of
- wax, my growth would approve the truth.
- CHIEF JUSTICE. There is not a white hair in your face but should
- have his effect of gravity.
- FALSTAFF. His effect of gravy, gravy,
- CHIEF JUSTICE. You follow the young Prince up and down, like his
- ill angel.
- FALSTAFF. Not so, my lord. Your ill angel is light; but hope he
- that looks upon me will take me without weighing. And yet in some
- respects, I grant, I cannot go- I cannot tell. Virtue is of so
- little regard in these costermongers' times that true valour is
- turn'd berod; pregnancy is made a tapster, and his quick wit
- wasted in giving reckonings; all the other gifts appertinent to
- man, as the malice of this age shapes them, are not worth a
- gooseberry. You that are old consider not the capacities of us
- that are young; you do measure the heat of our livers with the
- bitterness of your galls; and we that are in the vaward of our
- youth, must confess, are wags too.
- CHIEF JUSTICE. Do you set down your name in the scroll of youth,
- that are written down old with all the characters of age? Have
- you not a moist eye, a dry hand, a yellow cheek, a white beard, a
- decreasing leg, an increasing belly? Is not your voice broken,
- your wind short, your chin double, your wit single, and every
- part about you blasted with antiquity? And will you yet call
- yourself young? Fie, fie, fie, Sir John!
- FALSTAFF. My lord, I was born about three of the clock in the
- afternoon, with a white head and something a round belly. For my
- voice- I have lost it with hallooing and singing of anthems. To
- approve my youth further, I will not. The truth is, I am only old
- in judgment and understanding; and he that will caper with me for
- a thousand marks, let him lend me the money, and have at him. For
- the box of the ear that the Prince gave you- he gave it like a
- rude prince, and you took it like a sensible lord. I have check'd
- him for it; and the young lion repents- marry, not in ashes and
- sackcloth, but in new silk and old sack.
- CHIEF JUSTICE. Well, God send the Prince a better companion!
- FALSTAFF. God send the companion a better prince! I cannot rid my
- hands of him.
- CHIEF JUSTICE. Well, the King hath sever'd you. I hear you are
- going with Lord John of Lancaster against the Archbishop and the
- Earl of Northumberland.
- FALSTAFF. Yea; I thank your pretty sweet wit for it. But look you
- pray, all you that kiss my Lady Peace at home, that our armies
- join not in a hot day; for, by the Lord, I take but two shirts
- out with me, and I mean not to sweat extraordinarily. If it be a
- hot day, and I brandish anything but a bottle, I would I might
- never spit white again. There is not a dangerous action can peep
- out his head but I am thrust upon it. Well, I cannot last ever;
- but it was alway yet the trick of our English nation, if they
- have a good thing, to make it too common. If ye will needs say I
- am an old man, you should give me rest. I would to God my name
- were not so terrible to the enemy as it is. I were better to be
- eaten to death with a rust than to be scoured to nothing with
- perpetual motion.
- CHIEF JUSTICE. Well, be honest, be honest; and God bless your
- expedition!
- FALSTAFF. Will your lordship lend me a thousand pound to furnish me
- forth?
- CHIEF JUSTICE. Not a penny, not a penny; you are too impatient to
- bear crosses. Fare you well. Commend me to my cousin
- Westmoreland.
- Exeunt CHIEF JUSTICE and SERVANT
- FALSTAFF. If I do, fillip me with a three-man beetle. A man can no
- more separate age and covetousness than 'a can part young limbs
- and lechery; but the gout galls the one, and the pox pinches the
- other; and so both the degrees prevent my curses. Boy!
- PAGE. Sir?
- FALSTAFF. What money is in my purse?
- PAGE. Seven groats and two pence.
- FALSTAFF. I can get no remedy against this consumption of the
- purse; borrowing only lingers and lingers it out, but the disease
- is incurable. Go bear this letter to my Lord of Lancaster; this
- to the Prince; this to the Earl of Westmoreland; and this to old
- Mistress Ursula, whom I have weekly sworn to marry since I
- perceiv'd the first white hair of my chin. About it; you know
- where to find me. [Exit PAGE] A pox of this gout! or, a gout of
- this pox! for the one or the other plays the rogue with my great
- toe. 'Tis no matter if I do halt; I have the wars for my colour,
- and my pension shall seem the more reasonable. A good wit will
- make use of anything. I will turn diseases to commodity.
- Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-York. The ARCHBISHOP'S palace
-
-Enter the ARCHBISHOP, THOMAS MOWBRAY the EARL MARSHAL, LORD HASTINGS,
-and LORD BARDOLPH
-
- ARCHBISHOP. Thus have you heard our cause and known our means;
- And, my most noble friends, I pray you all
- Speak plainly your opinions of our hopes-
- And first, Lord Marshal, what say you to it?
- MOWBRAY. I well allow the occasion of our amis;
- But gladly would be better satisfied
- How, in our means, we should advance ourselves
- To look with forehead bold and big enough
- Upon the power and puissance of the King.
- HASTINGS. Our present musters grow upon the file
- To five and twenty thousand men of choice;
- And our supplies live largely in the hope
- Of great Northumberland, whose bosom burns
- With an incensed fire of injuries.
- LORD BARDOLPH. The question then, Lord Hastings, standeth thus:
- Whether our present five and twenty thousand
- May hold up head without Northumberland?
- HASTINGS. With him, we may.
- LORD BARDOLPH. Yea, marry, there's the point;
- But if without him we be thought too feeble,
- My judgment is we should not step too far
- Till we had his assistance by the hand;
- For, in a theme so bloody-fac'd as this,
- Conjecture, expectation, and surmise
- Of aids incertain, should not be admitted.
- ARCHBISHOP. 'Tis very true, Lord Bardolph; for indeed
- It was young Hotspur's case at Shrewsbury.
- LORD BARDOLPH. It was, my lord; who lin'd himself with hope,
- Eating the air and promise of supply,
- Flatt'ring himself in project of a power
- Much smaller than the smallest of his thoughts;
- And so, with great imagination
- Proper to madmen, led his powers to death,
- And, winking, leapt into destruction.
- HASTINGS. But, by your leave, it never yet did hurt
- To lay down likelihoods and forms of hope.
- LORD BARDOLPH. Yes, if this present quality of war-
- Indeed the instant action, a cause on foot-
- Lives so in hope, as in an early spring
- We see th' appearing buds; which to prove fruit
- Hope gives not so much warrant, as despair
- That frosts will bite them. When we mean to build,
- We first survey the plot, then draw the model;
- And when we see the figure of the house,
- Then we must rate the cost of the erection;
- Which if we find outweighs ability,
- What do we then but draw anew the model
- In fewer offices, or at least desist
- To build at all? Much more, in this great work-
- Which is almost to pluck a kingdom down
- And set another up- should we survey
- The plot of situation and the model,
- Consent upon a sure foundation,
- Question surveyors, know our own estate
- How able such a work to undergo-
- To weigh against his opposite; or else
- We fortify in paper and in figures,
- Using the names of men instead of men;
- Like one that draws the model of a house
- Beyond his power to build it; who, half through,
- Gives o'er and leaves his part-created cost
- A naked subject to the weeping clouds
- And waste for churlish winter's tyranny.
- HASTINGS. Grant that our hopes- yet likely of fair birth-
- Should be still-born, and that we now possess'd
- The utmost man of expectation,
- I think we are so a body strong enough,
- Even as we are, to equal with the King.
- LORD BARDOLPH. What, is the King but five and twenty thousand?
- HASTINGS. To us no more; nay, not so much, Lord Bardolph;
- For his divisions, as the times do brawl,
- Are in three heads: one power against the French,
- And one against Glendower; perforce a third
- Must take up us. So is the unfirm King
- In three divided; and his coffers sound
- With hollow poverty and emptiness.
- ARCHBISHOP. That he should draw his several strengths together
- And come against us in full puissance
- Need not be dreaded.
- HASTINGS. If he should do so,
- He leaves his back unarm'd, the French and Welsh
- Baying at his heels. Never fear that.
- LORD BARDOLPH. Who is it like should lead his forces hither?
- HASTINGS. The Duke of Lancaster and Westmoreland;
- Against the Welsh, himself and Harry Monmouth;
- But who is substituted against the French
- I have no certain notice.
- ARCHBISHOP. Let us on,
- And publish the occasion of our arms.
- The commonwealth is sick of their own choice;
- Their over-greedy love hath surfeited.
- An habitation giddy and unsure
- Hath he that buildeth on the vulgar heart.
- O thou fond many, with what loud applause
- Didst thou beat heaven with blessing Bolingbroke
- Before he was what thou wouldst have him be!
- And being now trimm'd in thine own desires,
- Thou, beastly feeder, art so full of him
- That thou provok'st thyself to cast him up.
- So, so, thou common dog, didst thou disgorge
- Thy glutton bosom of the royal Richard;
- And now thou wouldst eat thy dead vomit up,
- And howl'st to find it. What trust is in these times?
- They that, when Richard liv'd, would have him die
- Are now become enamour'd on his grave.
- Thou that threw'st dust upon his goodly head,
- When through proud London he came sighing on
- After th' admired heels of Bolingbroke,
- Criest now 'O earth, yield us that king again,
- And take thou this!' O thoughts of men accurs'd!
- Past and to come seems best; things present, worst.
- MOWBRAY. Shall we go draw our numbers, and set on?
- HASTINGS. We are time's subjects, and time bids be gone.
- Exeunt
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT II. SCENE I.
-London. A street
-
-Enter HOSTESS with two officers, FANG and SNARE
-
- HOSTESS. Master Fang, have you ent'red the action?
- FANG. It is ent'red.
- HOSTESS. Where's your yeoman? Is't a lusty yeoman? Will 'a stand
- to't?
- FANG. Sirrah, where's Snare?
- HOSTESS. O Lord, ay! good Master Snare.
- SNARE. Here, here.
- FANG. Snare, we must arrest Sir John Falstaff.
- HOSTESS. Yea, good Master Snare; I have ent'red him and all.
- SNARE. It may chance cost some of our lives, for he will stab.
- HOSTESS. Alas the day! take heed of him; he stabb'd me in mine own
- house, and that most beastly. In good faith, 'a cares not what
- mischief he does, if his weapon be out; he will foin like any
- devil; he will spare neither man, woman, nor child.
- FANG. If I can close with him, I care not for his thrust.
- HOSTESS. No, nor I neither; I'll be at your elbow.
- FANG. An I but fist him once; an 'a come but within my vice!
- HOSTESS. I am undone by his going; I warrant you, he's an
- infinitive thing upon my score. Good Master Fang, hold him sure.
- Good Master Snare, let him not scape. 'A comes continuantly to
- Pie-corner- saving your manhoods- to buy a saddle; and he is
- indited to dinner to the Lubber's Head in Lumbert Street, to
- Master Smooth's the silkman. I pray you, since my exion is
- ent'red, and my case so openly known to the world, let him be
- brought in to his answer. A hundred mark is a long one for a poor
- lone woman to bear; and I have borne, and borne, and borne; and
- have been fubb'd off, and fubb'd off, and fubb'd off, from this
- day to that day, that it is a shame to be thought on. There is no
- honesty in such dealing; unless a woman should be made an ass and
- a beast, to bear every knave's wrong.
-
- Enter SIR JOHN FALSTAFF, PAGE, and BARDOLPH
-
- Yonder he comes; and that arrant malmsey-nose knave, Bardolph,
- with him. Do your offices, do your offices, Master Fang and
- Master Snare; do me, do me, do me your offices.
- FALSTAFF. How now! whose mare's dead? What's the matter?
- FANG. Sir John, I arrest you at the suit of Mistress Quickly.
- FALSTAFF. Away, varlets! Draw, Bardolph. Cut me off the villian's
- head. Throw the quean in the channel.
- HOSTESS. Throw me in the channel! I'll throw thee in the channel.
- Wilt thou? wilt thou? thou bastardly rogue! Murder, murder! Ah,
- thou honeysuckle villain! wilt thou kill God's officers and the
- King's? Ah, thou honey-seed rogue! thou art a honey-seed; a
- man-queller and a woman-queller.
- FALSTAFF. Keep them off, Bardolph.
- FANG. A rescue! a rescue!
- HOSTESS. Good people, bring a rescue or two. Thou wot, wot thou!
- thou wot, wot ta? Do, do, thou rogue! do, thou hemp-seed!
- PAGE. Away, you scullion! you rampallian! you fustilarian!
- I'll tickle your catastrophe.
-
- Enter the LORD CHIEF JUSTICE and his men
-
- CHIEF JUSTICE. What is the matter? Keep the peace here, ho!
- HOSTESS. Good my lord, be good to me. I beseech you, stand to me.
- CHIEF JUSTICE. How now, Sir John! what, are you brawling here?
- Doth this become your place, your time, and business?
- You should have been well on your way to York.
- Stand from him, fellow; wherefore hang'st thou upon him?
- HOSTESS. O My most worshipful lord, an't please your Grace, I am a
- poor widow of Eastcheap, and he is arrested at my suit.
- CHIEF JUSTICE. For what sum?
- HOSTESS. It is more than for some, my lord; it is for all- all I
- have. He hath eaten me out of house and home; he hath put all my
- substance into that fat belly of his. But I will have some of it
- out again, or I will ride thee a nights like a mare.
- FALSTAFF. I think I am as like to ride the mare, if I have any
- vantage of ground to get up.
- CHIEF JUSTICE. How comes this, Sir John? Fie! What man of good
- temper would endure this tempest of exclamation? Are you not
- ashamed to enforce a poor widow to so rough a course to come by
- her own?
- FALSTAFF. What is the gross sum that I owe thee?
- HOSTESS. Marry, if thou wert an honest man, thyself and the money
- too. Thou didst swear to me upon a parcel-gilt goblet, sitting in
- my Dolphin chamber, at the round table, by a sea-coal fire, upon
- Wednesday in Wheeson week, when the Prince broke thy head for
- liking his father to singing-man of Windsor- thou didst swear to
- me then, as I was washing thy wound, to marry me and make me my
- lady thy wife. Canst thou deny it? Did not goodwife Keech, the
- butcher's wife, come in then and call me gossip Quickly? Coming
- in to borrow a mess of vinegar, telling us she had a good dish of
- prawns, whereby thou didst desire to eat some, whereby I told
- thee they were ill for green wound? And didst thou not, when she
- was gone down stairs, desire me to be no more so familiarity with
- such poor people, saying that ere long they should call me madam?
- And didst thou not kiss me, and bid me fetch the thirty
- shillings? I put thee now to thy book-oath. Deny it, if thou
- canst.
- FALSTAFF. My lord, this is a poor mad soul, and she says up and
- down the town that her eldest son is like you. She hath been in
- good case, and, the truth is, poverty hath distracted her. But
- for these foolish officers, I beseech you I may have redress
- against them.
- CHIEF JUSTICE. Sir John, Sir John, I am well acquainted with your
- manner of wrenching the true cause the false way. It is not a
- confident brow, nor the throng of words that come with such more
- than impudent sauciness from you, can thrust me from a level
- consideration. You have, as it appears to me, practis'd upon the
- easy yielding spirit of this woman, and made her serve your uses
- both in purse and in person.
- HOSTESS. Yea, in truth, my lord.
- CHIEF JUSTICE. Pray thee, peace. Pay her the debt you owe her, and
- unpay the villainy you have done with her; the one you may do
- with sterling money, and the other with current repentance.
- FALSTAFF. My lord, I will not undergo this sneap without reply. You
- call honourable boldness impudent sauciness; if a man will make
- curtsy and say nothing, he is virtuous. No, my lord, my humble
- duty rememb'red, I will not be your suitor. I say to you I do
- desire deliverance from these officers, being upon hasty
- employment in the King's affairs.
- CHIEF JUSTICE. You speak as having power to do wrong; but answer in
- th' effect of your reputation, and satisfy the poor woman.
- FALSTAFF. Come hither, hostess.
-
- Enter GOWER
-
- CHIEF JUSTICE. Now, Master Gower, what news?
- GOWER. The King, my lord, and Harry Prince of Wales
- Are near at hand. The rest the paper tells. [Gives a letter]
- FALSTAFF. As I am a gentleman!
- HOSTESS. Faith, you said so before.
- FALSTAFF. As I am a gentleman! Come, no more words of it.
- HOSTESS. By this heavenly ground I tread on, I must be fain to pawn
- both my plate and the tapestry of my dining-chambers.
- FALSTAFF. Glasses, glasses, is the only drinking; and for thy
- walls, a pretty slight drollery, or the story of the Prodigal, or
- the German hunting, in water-work, is worth a thousand of these
- bed-hangers and these fly-bitten tapestries. Let it be ten pound,
- if thou canst. Come, and 'twere not for thy humours, there's not
- a better wench in England. Go, wash thy face, and draw the
- action. Come, thou must not be in this humour with me; dost not
- know me? Come, come, I know thou wast set on to this.
- HOSTESS. Pray thee, Sir John, let it be but twenty nobles;
- i' faith, I am loath to pawn my plate, so God save me, la!
- FALSTAFF. Let it alone; I'll make other shift. You'll be a fool
- still.
- HOSTESS. Well, you shall have it, though I pawn my gown.
- I hope you'll come to supper. you'll pay me all together?
- FALSTAFF. Will I live? [To BARDOLPH] Go, with her, with her; hook
- on, hook on.
- HOSTESS. Will you have Doll Tearsheet meet you at supper?
- FALSTAFF. No more words; let's have her.
- Exeunt HOSTESS, BARDOLPH, and OFFICERS
- CHIEF JUSTICE. I have heard better news.
- FALSTAFF. What's the news, my lord?
- CHIEF JUSTICE. Where lay the King to-night?
- GOWER. At Basingstoke, my lord.
- FALSTAFF. I hope, my lord, all's well. What is the news, my lord?
- CHIEF JUSTICE. Come all his forces back?
- GOWER. No; fifteen hundred foot, five hundred horse,
- Are march'd up to my Lord of Lancaster,
- Against Northumberland and the Archbishop.
- FALSTAFF. Comes the King back from Wales, my noble lord?
- CHIEF JUSTICE. You shall have letters of me presently.
- Come, go along with me, good Master Gower.
- FALSTAFF. My lord!
- CHIEF JUSTICE. What's the matter?
- FALSTAFF. Master Gower, shall I entreat you with me to dinner?
- GOWER. I must wait upon my good lord here, I thank you, good Sir
- John.
- CHIEF JUSTICE. Sir John, you loiter here too long, being you are to
- take soldiers up in counties as you go.
- FALSTAFF. Will you sup with me, Master Gower?
- CHIEF JUSTICE. What foolish master taught you these manners, Sir
- John?
- FALSTAFF. Master Gower, if they become me not, he was a fool that
- taught them me. This is the right fencing grace, my lord; tap for
- tap, and so part fair.
- CHIEF JUSTICE. Now, the Lord lighten thee! Thou art a great fool.
- Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-London. Another street
-
-Enter PRINCE HENRY and POINS
-
- PRINCE. Before God, I am exceeding weary.
- POINS. Is't come to that? I had thought weariness durst not have
- attach'd one of so high blood.
- PRINCE. Faith, it does me; though it discolours the complexion of
- my greatness to acknowledge it. Doth it not show vilely in me to
- desire small beer?
- POINS. Why, a prince should not be so loosely studied as to
- remember so weak a composition.
- PRINCE. Belike then my appetite was not-princely got; for, by my
- troth, I do now remember the poor creature, small beer. But
- indeed these humble considerations make me out of love with my
- greatness. What a disgrace is it to me to remember thy name, or
- to know thy face to-morrow, or to take note how many pair of silk
- stockings thou hast- viz., these, and those that were thy
- peach-colour'd ones- or to bear the inventory of thy shirts- as,
- one for superfluity, and another for use! But that the
- tennis-court-keeper knows better than I; for it is a low ebb of
- linen with thee when thou keepest not racket there; as thou hast
- not done a great while, because the rest of thy low countries
- have made a shift to eat up thy holland. And God knows whether
- those that bawl out of the ruins of thy linen shall inherit his
- kingdom; but the midwives say the children are not in the fault;
- whereupon the world increases, and kindreds are mightily
- strengthened.
- POINS. How ill it follows, after you have laboured so hard, you
- should talk so idly! Tell me, how many good young princes would
- do so, their fathers being so sick as yours at this time is?
- PRINCE. Shall I tell thee one thing, Poins?
- POINS. Yes, faith; and let it be an excellent good thing.
- PRINCE. It shall serve among wits of no higher breeding than thine.
- POINS. Go to; I stand the push of your one thing that you will
- tell.
- PRINCE. Marry, I tell thee it is not meet that I should be sad, now
- my father is sick; albeit I could tell to thee- as to one it
- pleases me, for fault of a better, to call my friend- I could be
- sad and sad indeed too.
- POINS. Very hardly upon such a subject.
- PRINCE. By this hand, thou thinkest me as far in the devil's book
- as thou and Falstaff for obduracy and persistency: let the end
- try the man. But I tell thee my heart bleeds inwardly that my
- father is so sick; and keeping such vile company as thou art hath
- in reason taken from me all ostentation of sorrow.
- POINS. The reason?
- PRINCE. What wouldst thou think of me if I should weep?
- POINS. I would think thee a most princely hypocrite.
- PRINCE. It would be every man's thought; and thou art a blessed
- fellow to think as every man thinks. Never a man's thought in the
- world keeps the road-way better than thine. Every man would think
- me an hypocrite indeed. And what accites your most worshipful
- thought to think so?
- POINS. Why, because you have been so lewd and so much engraffed to
- Falstaff.
- PRINCE. And to thee.
- POINS. By this light, I am well spoke on; I can hear it with mine
- own ears. The worst that they can say of me is that I am a second
- brother and that I am a proper fellow of my hands; and those two
- things, I confess, I cannot help. By the mass, here comes
- Bardolph.
-
- Enter BARDOLPH and PAGE
-
- PRINCE. And the boy that I gave Falstaff. 'A had him from me
- Christian; and look if the fat villain have not transform'd him
- ape.
- BARDOLPH. God save your Grace!
- PRINCE. And yours, most noble Bardolph!
- POINS. Come, you virtuous ass, you bashful fool, must you be
- blushing? Wherefore blush you now? What a maidenly man-at-arms
- are you become! Is't such a matter to get a pottle-pot's
- maidenhead?
- PAGE. 'A calls me e'en now, my lord, through a red lattice, and I
- could discern no part of his face from the window. At last I
- spied his eyes; and methought he had made two holes in the
- alewife's new petticoat, and so peep'd through.
- PRINCE. Has not the boy profited?
- BARDOLPH. Away, you whoreson upright rabbit, away!
- PAGE. Away, you rascally Althaea's dream, away!
- PRINCE. Instruct us, boy; what dream, boy?
- PAGE. Marry, my lord, Althaea dreamt she was delivered of a
- firebrand; and therefore I call him her dream.
- PRINCE. A crown's worth of good interpretation. There 'tis, boy.
- [Giving a crown]
- POINS. O that this blossom could be kept from cankers!
- Well, there is sixpence to preserve thee.
- BARDOLPH. An you do not make him be hang'd among you, the gallows
- shall have wrong.
- PRINCE. And how doth thy master, Bardolph?
- BARDOLPH. Well, my lord. He heard of your Grace's coming to town.
- There's a letter for you.
- POINS. Deliver'd with good respect. And how doth the martlemas,
- your master?
- BARDOLPH. In bodily health, sir.
- POINS. Marry, the immortal part needs a physician; but that moves
- not him. Though that be sick, it dies not.
- PRINCE. I do allow this well to be as familiar with me as my dog;
- and he holds his place, for look you how he writes.
- POINS. [Reads] 'John Falstaff, knight'- Every man must know that
- as oft as he has occasion to name himself, even like those that
- are kin to the King; for they never prick their finger but they
- say 'There's some of the King's blood spilt.' 'How comes that?'
- says he that takes upon him not to conceive. The answer is as
- ready as a borrower's cap: 'I am the King's poor cousin, sir.'
- PRINCE. Nay, they will be kin to us, or they will fetch it from
- Japhet. But the letter: [Reads] 'Sir John Falstaff, knight, to
- the son of the King nearest his father, Harry Prince of Wales,
- greeting.'
- POINS. Why, this is a certificate.
- PRINCE. Peace! [Reads] 'I will imitate the honourable Romans in
- brevity.'-
- POINS. He sure means brevity in breath, short-winded.
- PRINCE. [Reads] 'I commend me to thee, I commend thee, and I
- leave thee. Be not too familiar with Poins; for he misuses thy
- favours so much that he swears thou art to marry his sister Nell.
- Repent at idle times as thou mayst, and so farewell.
- Thine, by yea and no- which is as much as to say as
- thou usest him- JACK FALSTAFF with my familiars,
- JOHN with my brothers and sisters, and SIR JOHN with
- all Europe.'
- POINS. My lord, I'll steep this letter in sack and make him eat it.
- PRINCE. That's to make him eat twenty of his words. But do you use
- me thus, Ned? Must I marry your sister?
- POINS. God send the wench no worse fortune! But I never said so.
- PRINCE. Well, thus we play the fools with the time, and the spirits
- of the wise sit in the clouds and mock us. Is your master here in
- London?
- BARDOLPH. Yea, my lord.
- PRINCE. Where sups he? Doth the old boar feed in the old frank?
- BARDOLPH. At the old place, my lord, in Eastcheap.
- PRINCE. What company?
- PAGE. Ephesians, my lord, of the old church.
- PRINCE. Sup any women with him?
- PAGE. None, my lord, but old Mistress Quickly and Mistress Doll
- Tearsheet.
- PRINCE. What pagan may that be?
- PAGE. A proper gentlewoman, sir, and a kinswoman of my master's.
- PRINCE. Even such kin as the parish heifers are to the town bull.
- Shall we steal upon them, Ned, at supper?
- POINS. I am your shadow, my lord; I'll follow you.
- PRINCE. Sirrah, you boy, and Bardolph, no word to your master that
- I am yet come to town. There's for your silence.
- BARDOLPH. I have no tongue, sir.
- PAGE. And for mine, sir, I will govern it.
- PRINCE. Fare you well; go. Exeunt BARDOLPH and PAGE
- This Doll Tearsheet should be some road.
- POINS. I warrant you, as common as the way between Saint Albans and
- London.
- PRINCE. How might we see Falstaff bestow himself to-night in his
- true colours, and not ourselves be seen?
- POINS. Put on two leathern jerkins and aprons, and wait upon him at
- his table as drawers.
- PRINCE. From a god to a bull? A heavy descension! It was Jove's
- case. From a prince to a prentice? A low transformation! That
- shall be mine; for in everything the purpose must weigh with the
- folly. Follow me, Ned.
- Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-Warkworth. Before the castle
-
-Enter NORTHUMBERLAND, LADY NORTHUMBERLAND, and LADY PERCY
-
- NORTHUMBERLAND. I pray thee, loving wife, and gentle daughter,
- Give even way unto my rough affairs;
- Put not you on the visage of the times
- And be, like them, to Percy troublesome.
- LADY NORTHUMBERLAND. I have given over, I will speak no more.
- Do what you will; your wisdom be your guide.
- NORTHUMBERLAND. Alas, sweet wife, my honour is at pawn;
- And but my going nothing can redeem it.
- LADY PERCY. O, yet, for God's sake, go not to these wars!
- The time was, father, that you broke your word,
- When you were more endear'd to it than now;
- When your own Percy, when my heart's dear Harry,
- Threw many a northward look to see his father
- Bring up his powers; but he did long in vain.
- Who then persuaded you to stay at home?
- There were two honours lost, yours and your son's.
- For yours, the God of heaven brighten it!
- For his, it stuck upon him as the sun
- In the grey vault of heaven; and by his light
- Did all the chivalry of England move
- To do brave acts. He was indeed the glass
- Wherein the noble youth did dress themselves.
- He had no legs that practis'd not his gait;
- And speaking thick, which nature made his blemish,
- Became the accents of the valiant;
- For those who could speak low and tardily
- Would turn their own perfection to abuse
- To seem like him: so that in speech, in gait,
- In diet, in affections of delight,
- In military rules, humours of blood,
- He was the mark and glass, copy and book,
- That fashion'd others. And him- O wondrous him!
- O miracle of men!- him did you leave-
- Second to none, unseconded by you-
- To look upon the hideous god of war
- In disadvantage, to abide a field
- Where nothing but the sound of Hotspur's name
- Did seem defensible. So you left him.
- Never, O never, do his ghost the wrong
- To hold your honour more precise and nice
- With others than with him! Let them alone.
- The Marshal and the Archbishop are strong.
- Had my sweet Harry had but half their numbers,
- To-day might I, hanging on Hotspur's neck,
- Have talk'd of Monmouth's grave.
- NORTHUMBERLAND. Beshrew your heart,
- Fair daughter, you do draw my spirits from me
- With new lamenting ancient oversights.
- But I must go and meet with danger there,
- Or it will seek me in another place,
- And find me worse provided.
- LADY NORTHUMBERLAND. O, fly to Scotland
- Till that the nobles and the armed commons
- Have of their puissance made a little taste.
- LADY PERCY. If they get ground and vantage of the King,
- Then join you with them, like a rib of steel,
- To make strength stronger; but, for all our loves,
- First let them try themselves. So did your son;
- He was so suff'red; so came I a widow;
- And never shall have length of life enough
- To rain upon remembrance with mine eyes,
- That it may grow and sprout as high as heaven,
- For recordation to my noble husband.
- NORTHUMBERLAND. Come, come, go in with me. 'Tis with my mind
- As with the tide swell'd up unto his height,
- That makes a still-stand, running neither way.
- Fain would I go to meet the Archbishop,
- But many thousand reasons hold me back.
- I will resolve for Scotland. There am I,
- Till time and vantage crave my company. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE IV.
-London. The Boar's Head Tavern in Eastcheap
-
-Enter FRANCIS and another DRAWER
-
- FRANCIS. What the devil hast thou brought there-apple-johns? Thou
- knowest Sir John cannot endure an apple-john.
- SECOND DRAWER. Mass, thou say'st true. The Prince once set a dish
- of apple-johns before him, and told him there were five more Sir
- Johns; and, putting off his hat, said 'I will now take my leave
- of these six dry, round, old, withered knights.' It ang'red him
- to the heart; but he hath forgot that.
- FRANCIS. Why, then, cover and set them down; and see if thou canst
- find out Sneak's noise; Mistress Tearsheet would fain hear some
- music.
-
- Enter third DRAWER
-
- THIRD DRAWER. Dispatch! The room where they supp'd is too hot;
- they'll come in straight.
- FRANCIS. Sirrah, here will be the Prince and Master Poins anon; and
- they will put on two of our jerkins and aprons; and Sir John must
- not know of it. Bardolph hath brought word.
- THIRD DRAWER. By the mass, here will be old uds; it will be an
- excellent stratagem.
- SECOND DRAWER. I'll see if I can find out Sneak.
- Exeunt second and third DRAWERS
-
- Enter HOSTESS and DOLL TEARSHEET
-
- HOSTESS. I' faith, sweetheart, methinks now you are in an excellent
- good temperality. Your pulsidge beats as extraordinarily as heart
- would desire; and your colour, I warrant you, is as red as any
- rose, in good truth, la! But, i' faith, you have drunk too much
- canaries; and that's a marvellous searching wine, and it perfumes
- the blood ere one can say 'What's this?' How do you now?
- DOLL. Better than I was- hem.
- HOSTESS. Why, that's well said; a good heart's worth gold.
- Lo, here comes Sir John.
-
- Enter FALSTAFF
-
- FALSTAFF. [Singing] 'When Arthur first in court'- Empty the
- jordan. [Exit FRANCIS]- [Singing] 'And was a worthy king'- How
- now, Mistress Doll!
- HOSTESS. Sick of a calm; yea, good faith.
- FALSTAFF. So is all her sect; and they be once in a calm, they are
- sick.
- DOLL. A pox damn you, you muddy rascal! Is that all the comfort you
- give me?
- FALSTAFF. You make fat rascals, Mistress Doll.
- DOLL. I make them! Gluttony and diseases make them: I make them
- not.
- FALSTAFF. If the cook help to make the gluttony, you help to make
- the diseases, Doll. We catch of you, Doll, we catch of you; grant
- that, my poor virtue, grant that.
- DOLL. Yea, joy, our chains and our jewels.
- FALSTAFF. 'Your brooches, pearls, and ouches.' For to serve bravely
- is to come halting off; you know, to come off the breach with his
- pike bent bravely, and to surgery bravely; to venture upon the
- charg'd chambers bravely-
- DOLL. Hang yourself, you muddy conger, hang yourself!
- HOSTESS. By my troth, this is the old fashion; you two never meet
- but you fall to some discord. You are both, i' good truth, as
- rheumatic as two dry toasts; you cannot one bear with another's
- confirmities. What the good-year! one must bear, and that must be
- you. You are the weaker vessel, as as they say, the emptier
- vessel.
- DOLL. Can a weak empty vessel bear such a huge full hogs-head?
- There's a whole merchant's venture of Bourdeaux stuff in him; you
- have not seen a hulk better stuff'd in the hold. Come, I'll be
- friends with thee, Jack. Thou art going to the wars; and whether
- I shall ever see thee again or no, there is nobody cares.
-
- Re-enter FRANCIS
-
- FRANCIS. Sir, Ancient Pistol's below and would speak with you.
- DOLL. Hang him, swaggering rascal! Let him not come hither; it is
- the foul-mouth'dst rogue in England.
- HOSTESS. If he swagger, let him not come here. No, by my faith! I
- must live among my neighbours; I'll no swaggerers. I am in good
- name and fame with the very best. Shut the door. There comes no
- swaggerers here; I have not liv'd all this while to have
- swaggering now. Shut the door, I pray you.
- FALSTAFF. Dost thou hear, hostess?
- HOSTESS. Pray ye, pacify yourself, Sir John; there comes no
- swaggerers here.
- FALSTAFF. Dost thou hear? It is mine ancient.
- HOSTESS. Tilly-fally, Sir John, ne'er tell me; and your ancient
- swagg'rer comes not in my doors. I was before Master Tisick, the
- debuty, t' other day; and, as he said to me- 'twas no longer ago
- than Wednesday last, i' good faith!- 'Neighbour Quickly,' says
- he- Master Dumbe, our minister, was by then- 'Neighbour Quickly,'
- says he 'receive those that are civil, for' said he 'you are in
- an ill name.' Now 'a said so, I can tell whereupon. 'For' says he
- 'you are an honest woman and well thought on, therefore take heed
- what guests you receive. Receive' says he 'no swaggering
- companions.' There comes none here. You would bless you to hear
- what he said. No, I'll no swagg'rers.
- FALSTAFF. He's no swagg'rer, hostess; a tame cheater, i' faith; you
- may stroke him as gently as a puppy greyhound. He'll not swagger
- with a Barbary hen, if her feathers turn back in any show of
- resistance. Call him up, drawer.
- Exit FRANCIS
- HOSTESS. Cheater, call you him? I will bar no honest man my house,
- nor no cheater; but I do not love swaggering, by my troth. I am
- the worse when one says 'swagger.' Feel, masters, how I shake;
- look you, I warrant you.
- DOLL. So you do, hostess.
- HOSTESS. Do I? Yea, in very truth, do I, an 'twere an aspen leaf. I
- cannot abide swagg'rers.
-
- Enter PISTOL, BARDOLPH, and PAGE
-
- PISTOL. God save you, Sir John!
- FALSTAFF. Welcome, Ancient Pistol. Here, Pistol, I charge you with
- a cup of sack; do you discharge upon mine hostess.
- PISTOL. I will discharge upon her, Sir John, with two bullets.
- FALSTAFF. She is pistol-proof, sir; you shall not hardly offend
- her.
- HOSTESS. Come, I'll drink no proofs nor no bullets. I'll drink no
- more than will do me good, for no man's pleasure, I.
- PISTOL. Then to you, Mistress Dorothy; I will charge you.
- DOLL. Charge me! I scorn you, scurvy companion. What! you poor,
- base, rascally, cheating, lack-linen mate! Away, you mouldy
- rogue, away! I am meat for your master.
- PISTOL. I know you, Mistress Dorothy.
- DOLL. Away, you cut-purse rascal! you filthy bung, away! By this
- wine, I'll thrust my knife in your mouldy chaps, an you play the
- saucy cuttle with me. Away, you bottle-ale rascal! you
- basket-hilt stale juggler, you! Since when, I pray you, sir?
- God's light, with two points on your shoulder? Much!
- PISTOL. God let me not live but I will murder your ruff for this.
- FALSTAFF. No more, Pistol; I would not have you go off here.
- Discharge yourself of our company, Pistol.
- HOSTESS. No, good Captain Pistol; not here, sweet captain.
- DOLL. Captain! Thou abominable damn'd cheater, art thou not ashamed
- to be called captain? An captains were of my mind, they would
- truncheon you out, for taking their names upon you before you
- have earn'd them. You a captain! you slave, for what? For tearing
- a poor whore's ruff in a bawdy-house? He a captain! hang him,
- rogue! He lives upon mouldy stew'd prunes and dried cakes. A
- captain! God's light, these villains will make the word as odious
- as the word 'occupy'; which was an excellent good word before it
- was ill sorted. Therefore captains had need look to't.
- BARDOLPH. Pray thee go down, good ancient.
- FALSTAFF. Hark thee hither, Mistress Doll.
- PISTOL. Not I! I tell thee what, Corporal Bardolph, I could tear
- her; I'll be reveng'd of her.
- PAGE. Pray thee go down.
- PISTOL. I'll see her damn'd first; to Pluto's damn'd lake, by this
- hand, to th' infernal deep, with Erebus and tortures vile also.
- Hold hook and line, say I. Down, down, dogs! down, faitors! Have
- we not Hiren here?
- HOSTESS. Good Captain Peesel, be quiet; 'tis very late, i' faith; I
- beseek you now, aggravate your choler.
- PISTOL. These be good humours, indeed! Shall packhorses,
- And hollow pamper'd jades of Asia,
- Which cannot go but thirty mile a day,
- Compare with Caesars, and with Cannibals,
- And Troiant Greeks? Nay, rather damn them with
- King Cerberus; and let the welkin roar.
- Shall we fall foul for toys?
- HOSTESS. By my troth, Captain, these are very bitter words.
- BARDOLPH. Be gone, good ancient; this will grow to a brawl anon.
- PISTOL. Die men like dogs! Give crowns like pins! Have we not Hiren
- here?
- HOSTESS. O' my word, Captain, there's none such here. What the
- good-year! do you think I would deny her? For God's sake, be
- quiet.
- PISTOL. Then feed and be fat, my fair Calipolis.
- Come, give's some sack.
- 'Si fortune me tormente sperato me contento.'
- Fear we broadsides? No, let the fiend give fire.
- Give me some sack; and, sweetheart, lie thou there.
- [Laying down his sword]
- Come we to full points here, and are etceteras nothings?
- FALSTAFF. Pistol, I would be quiet.
- PISTOL. Sweet knight, I kiss thy neaf. What! we have seen the seven
- stars.
- DOLL. For God's sake thrust him down stairs; I cannot endure such a
- fustian rascal.
- PISTOL. Thrust him down stairs! Know we not Galloway nags?
- FALSTAFF. Quoit him down, Bardolph, like a shove-groat shilling.
- Nay, an 'a do nothing but speak nothing, 'a shall be nothing
- here.
- BARDOLPH. Come, get you down stairs.
- PISTOL. What! shall we have incision? Shall we imbrue?
- [Snatching up his sword]
- Then death rock me asleep, abridge my doleful days!
- Why, then, let grievous, ghastly, gaping wounds
- Untwine the Sisters Three! Come, Atropos, I say!
- HOSTESS. Here's goodly stuff toward!
- FALSTAFF. Give me my rapier, boy.
- DOLL. I pray thee, Jack, I pray thee, do not draw.
- FALSTAFF. Get you down stairs.
- [Drawing and driving PISTOL out]
- HOSTESS. Here's a goodly tumult! I'll forswear keeping house afore
- I'll be in these tirrits and frights. So; murder, I warrant now.
- Alas, alas! put up your naked weapons, put up your naked weapons.
- Exeunt PISTOL and BARDOLPH
- DOLL. I pray thee, Jack, be quiet; the rascal's gone. Ah, you
- whoreson little valiant villain, you!
- HOSTESS. Are you not hurt i' th' groin? Methought 'a made a shrewd
- thrust at your belly.
-
- Re-enter BARDOLPH
-
- FALSTAFF. Have you turn'd him out a doors?
- BARDOLPH. Yea, sir. The rascal's drunk. You have hurt him, sir, i'
- th' shoulder.
- FALSTAFF. A rascal! to brave me!
- DOLL. Ah, you sweet little rogue, you! Alas, poor ape, how thou
- sweat'st! Come, let me wipe thy face. Come on, you whoreson
- chops. Ah, rogue! i' faith, I love thee. Thou art as valorous as
- Hector of Troy, worth five of Agamemnon, and ten times better
- than the Nine Worthies. Ah, villain!
- FALSTAFF. A rascally slave! I will toss the rogue in a blanket.
- DOLL. Do, an thou dar'st for thy heart. An thou dost, I'll canvass
- thee between a pair of sheets.
-
- Enter musicians
-
- PAGE. The music is come, sir.
- FALSTAFF. Let them play. Play, sirs. Sit on my knee, Don. A rascal
- bragging slave! The rogue fled from me like quick-silver.
- DOLL. I' faith, and thou follow'dst him like a church. Thou
- whoreson little tidy Bartholomew boar-pig, when wilt thou leave
- fighting a days and foining a nights, and begin to patch up thine
- old body for heaven?
-
- Enter, behind, PRINCE HENRY and POINS disguised as drawers
-
- FALSTAFF. Peace, good Doll! Do not speak like a death's-head; do
- not bid me remember mine end.
- DOLL. Sirrah, what humour's the Prince of?
- FALSTAFF. A good shallow young fellow. 'A would have made a good
- pantler; 'a would ha' chipp'd bread well.
- DOLL. They say Poins has a good wit.
- FALSTAFF. He a good wit! hang him, baboon! His wit's as thick as
- Tewksbury mustard; there's no more conceit in him than is in a
- mallet.
- DOLL. Why does the Prince love him so, then?
- FALSTAFF. Because their legs are both of a bigness, and 'a plays at
- quoits well, and eats conger and fennel, and drinks off candles'
- ends for flap-dragons, and rides the wild mare with the boys, and
- jumps upon join'd-stools, and swears with a good grace, and wears
- his boots very smooth, like unto the sign of the Leg, and breeds
- no bate with telling of discreet stories; and such other gambol
- faculties 'a has, that show a weak mind and an able body, for the
- which the Prince admits him. For the Prince himself is such
- another; the weight of a hair will turn the scales between their
- avoirdupois.
- PRINCE. Would not this nave of a wheel have his ears cut off?
- POINS. Let's beat him before his whore.
- PRINCE. Look whe'er the wither'd elder hath not his poll claw'd
- like a parrot.
- POINS. Is it not strange that desire should so many years outlive
- performance?
- FALSTAFF. Kiss me, Doll.
- PRINCE. Saturn and Venus this year in conjunction! What says th'
- almanac to that?
- POINS. And look whether the fiery Trigon, his man, be not lisping
- to his master's old tables, his note-book, his counsel-keeper.
- FALSTAFF. Thou dost give me flattering busses.
- DOLL. By my troth, I kiss thee with a most constant heart.
- FALSTAFF. I am old, I am old.
- DOLL. I love thee better than I love e'er a scurvy young boy of
- them all.
- FALSTAFF. What stuff wilt have a kirtle of? I shall receive money a
- Thursday. Shalt have a cap to-morrow. A merry song, come. 'A
- grows late; we'll to bed. Thou't forget me when I am gone.
- DOLL. By my troth, thou't set me a-weeping, an thou say'st so.
- Prove that ever I dress myself handsome till thy return. Well,
- hearken a' th' end.
- FALSTAFF. Some sack, Francis.
- PRINCE & POINS. Anon, anon, sir. [Advancing]
- FALSTAFF. Ha! a bastard son of the King's? And art thou not Poins
- his brother?
- PRINCE. Why, thou globe of sinful continents, what a life dost thou
- lead!
- FALSTAFF. A better than thou. I am a gentleman: thou art a drawer.
- PRINCE. Very true, sir, and I come to draw you out by the ears.
- HOSTESS. O, the Lord preserve thy Grace! By my troth, welcome to
- London. Now the Lord bless that sweet face of thine. O Jesu, are
- you come from Wales?
- FALSTAFF. Thou whoreson mad compound of majesty, by this light
- flesh and corrupt blood, thou art welcome.
- [Leaning his band upon DOLL]
- DOLL. How, you fat fool! I scorn you.
- POINS. My lord, he will drive you out of your revenge and turn all
- to a merriment, if you take not the heat.
- PRINCE. YOU whoreson candle-mine, you, how vilely did you speak of
- me even now before this honest, virtuous, civil gentlewoman!
- HOSTESS. God's blessing of your good heart! and so she is, by my
- troth.
- FALSTAFF. Didst thou hear me?
- PRINCE. Yea; and you knew me, as you did when you ran away by
- Gadshill. You knew I was at your back, and spoke it on purpose to
- try my patience.
- FALSTAFF. No, no, no; not so; I did not think thou wast within
- hearing.
- PRINCE. I shall drive you then to confess the wilful abuse, and
- then I know how to handle you.
- FALSTAFF. No abuse, Hal, o' mine honour; no abuse.
- PRINCE. Not- to dispraise me, and call me pander, and
- bread-chipper, and I know not what!
- FALSTAFF. No abuse, Hal.
- POINS. No abuse!
- FALSTAFF. No abuse, Ned, i' th' world; honest Ned, none. I
- disprais'd him before the wicked- that the wicked might not fall
- in love with thee; in which doing, I have done the part of a
- careful friend and a true subject; and thy father is to give me
- thanks for it. No abuse, Hal; none, Ned, none; no, faith, boys,
- none.
- PRINCE. See now, whether pure fear and entire cowardice doth not
- make thee wrong this virtuous gentlewoman to close with us? Is
- she of the wicked? Is thine hostess here of the wicked? Or is thy
- boy of the wicked? Or honest Bardolph, whose zeal burns in his
- nose, of the wicked?
- POINS. Answer, thou dead elm, answer.
- FALSTAFF. The fiend hath prick'd down Bardolph irrecoverable; and
- his face is Lucifer's privy-kitchen, where he doth nothing but
- roast malt-worms. For the boy- there is a good angel about him;
- but the devil outbids him too.
- PRINCE. For the women?
- FALSTAFF. For one of them- she's in hell already, and burns poor
- souls. For th' other- I owe her money; and whether she be damn'd
- for that, I know not.
- HOSTESS. No, I warrant you.
- FALSTAFF. No, I think thou art not; I think thou art quit for that.
- Marry, there is another indictment upon thee for suffering flesh
- to be eaten in thy house, contrary to the law; for the which I
- think thou wilt howl.
- HOSTESS. All vict'lers do so. What's a joint of mutton or two in a
- whole Lent?
- PRINCE. You, gentlewoman-
- DOLL. What says your Grace?
- FALSTAFF. His Grace says that which his flesh rebels against.
- [Knocking within]
- HOSTESS. Who knocks so loud at door? Look to th' door there,
- Francis.
-
- Enter PETO
-
- PRINCE. Peto, how now! What news?
- PETO. The King your father is at Westminster;
- And there are twenty weak and wearied posts
- Come from the north; and as I came along
- I met and overtook a dozen captains,
- Bare-headed, sweating, knocking at the taverns,
- And asking every one for Sir John Falstaff.
- PRINCE. By heaven, Poins, I feel me much to blame
- So idly to profane the precious time,
- When tempest of commotion, like the south,
- Borne with black vapour, doth begin to melt
- And drop upon our bare unarmed heads.
- Give me my sword and cloak. Falstaff, good night.
-
- Exeunt PRINCE, POINS, PETO, and BARDOLPH
-
- FALSTAFF. Now comes in the sweetest morsel of the night, and we
- must hence, and leave it unpick'd. [Knocking within] More
- knocking at the door!
-
- Re-enter BARDOLPH
-
- How now! What's the matter?
- BARDOLPH. You must away to court, sir, presently;
- A dozen captains stay at door for you.
- FALSTAFF. [To the PAGE]. Pay the musicians, sirrah.- Farewell,
- hostess; farewell, Doll. You see, my good wenches, how men of
- merit are sought after; the undeserver may sleep, when the man of
- action is call'd on. Farewell, good wenches. If I be not sent
- away post, I will see you again ere I go.
- DOLL. I cannot speak. If my heart be not ready to burst!
- Well, sweet Jack, have a care of thyself.
- FALSTAFF. Farewell, farewell.
- Exeunt FALSTAFF and BARDOLPH
- HOSTESS. Well, fare thee well. I have known thee these twenty-nine
- years, come peascod-time; but an honester and truer-hearted man
- -well fare thee well.
- BARDOLPH. [ Within] Mistress Tearsheet!
- HOSTESS. What's the matter?
- BARDOLPH. [ Within] Bid Mistress Tearsheet come to my master.
- HOSTESS. O, run Doll, run, run, good Come. [To BARDOLPH] She
- comes blubber'd.- Yea, will you come, Doll? Exeunt
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT III. SCENE I.
-Westminster. The palace
-
-Enter the KING in his nightgown, with a page
-
- KING. Go call the Earls of Surrey and of Warwick;
- But, ere they come, bid them o'er-read these letters
- And well consider of them. Make good speed. Exit page
- How many thousands of my poorest subjects
- Are at this hour asleep! O sleep, O gentle sleep,
- Nature's soft nurse, how have I frightened thee,
- That thou no more will weigh my eyelids down,
- And steep my senses in forgetfulness?
- Why rather, sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs,
- Upon uneasy pallets stretching thee,
- And hush'd with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber,
- Than in the perfum'd chambers of the great,
- Under the canopies of costly state,
- And lull'd with sound of sweetest melody?
- O thou dull god, why liest thou with the vile
- In loathsome beds, and leav'st the kingly couch
- A watch-case or a common 'larum-bell?
- Wilt thou upon the high and giddy mast
- Seal up the ship-boy's eyes, and rock his brains
- In cradle of the rude imperious surge,
- And in the visitation of the winds,
- Who take the ruffian billows by the top,
- Curling their monstrous heads, and hanging them
- With deafing clamour in the slippery clouds,
- That with the hurly death itself awakes?
- Canst thou, O partial sleep, give thy repose
- To the wet sea-boy in an hour so rude;
- And in the calmest and most stillest night,
- With all appliances and means to boot,
- Deny it to a king? Then, happy low, lie down!
- Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.
-
- Enter WARWICK and Surrey
-
- WARWICK. Many good morrows to your Majesty!
- KING. Is it good morrow, lords?
- WARWICK. 'Tis one o'clock, and past.
- KING. Why then, good morrow to you all, my lords.
- Have you read o'er the letters that I sent you?
- WARWICK. We have, my liege.
- KING. Then you perceive the body of our kingdom
- How foul it is; what rank diseases grow,
- And with what danger, near the heart of it.
- WARWICK. It is but as a body yet distempered;
- Which to his former strength may be restored
- With good advice and little medicine.
- My Lord Northumberland will soon be cool'd.
- KING. O God! that one might read the book of fate,
- And see the revolution of the times
- Make mountains level, and the continent,
- Weary of solid firmness, melt itself
- Into the sea; and other times to see
- The beachy girdle of the ocean
- Too wide for Neptune's hips; how chances mock,
- And changes fill the cup of alteration
- With divers liquors! O, if this were seen,
- The happiest youth, viewing his progress through,
- What perils past, what crosses to ensue,
- Would shut the book and sit him down and die.
- 'Tis not ten years gone
- Since Richard and Northumberland, great friends,
- Did feast together, and in two years after
- Were they at wars. It is but eight years since
- This Percy was the man nearest my soul;
- Who like a brother toil'd in my affairs
- And laid his love and life under my foot;
- Yea, for my sake, even to the eyes of Richard
- Gave him defiance. But which of you was by-
- [To WARWICK] You, cousin Nevil, as I may remember-
- When Richard, with his eye brim full of tears,
- Then check'd and rated by Northumberland,
- Did speak these words, now prov'd a prophecy?
- 'Northumberland, thou ladder by the which
- My cousin Bolingbroke ascends my throne'-
- Though then, God knows, I had no such intent
- But that necessity so bow'd the state
- That I and greatness were compell'd to kiss-
- 'The time shall come'- thus did he follow it-
- 'The time will come that foul sin, gathering head,
- Shall break into corruption' so went on,
- Foretelling this same time's condition
- And the division of our amity.
- WARWICK. There is a history in all men's lives,
- Figuring the natures of the times deceas'd;
- The which observ'd, a man may prophesy,
- With a near aim, of the main chance of things
- As yet not come to life, who in their seeds
- And weak beginning lie intreasured.
- Such things become the hatch and brood of time;
- And, by the necessary form of this,
- King Richard might create a perfect guess
- That great Northumberland, then false to him,
- Would of that seed grow to a greater falseness;
- Which should not find a ground to root upon
- Unless on you.
- KING. Are these things then necessities?
- Then let us meet them like necessities;
- And that same word even now cries out on us.
- They say the Bishop and Northumberland
- Are fifty thousand strong.
- WARWICK. It cannot be, my lord.
- Rumour doth double, like the voice and echo,
- The numbers of the feared. Please it your Grace
- To go to bed. Upon my soul, my lord,
- The powers that you already have sent forth
- Shall bring this prize in very easily.
- To comfort you the more, I have receiv'd
- A certain instance that Glendower is dead.
- Your Majesty hath been this fortnight ill;
- And these unseasoned hours perforce must ad
- Unto your sickness.
- KING. I will take your counsel.
- And, were these inward wars once out of hand,
- We would, dear lords, unto the Holy Land. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-Gloucestershire. Before Justice, SHALLOW'S house
-
-Enter SHALLOW and SILENCE, meeting; MOULDY, SHADOW, WART, FEEBLE, BULLCALF,
-and servants behind
-
- SHALLOW. Come on, come on, come on; give me your hand, sir; give me
- your hand, sir. An early stirrer, by the rood! And how doth my
- good cousin Silence?
- SILENCE. Good morrow, good cousin Shallow.
- SHALLOW. And how doth my cousin, your bed-fellow? and your fairest
- daughter and mine, my god-daughter Ellen?
- SILENCE. Alas, a black ousel, cousin Shallow!
- SHALLOW. By yea and no, sir. I dare say my cousin William is become
- a good scholar; he is at Oxford still, is he not?
- SILENCE. Indeed, sir, to my cost.
- SHALLOW. 'A must, then, to the Inns o' Court shortly. I was once of
- Clement's Inn; where I think they will talk of mad Shallow yet.
- SILENCE. You were call'd 'lusty Shallow' then, cousin.
- SHALLOW. By the mass, I was call'd anything; and I would have done
- anything indeed too, and roundly too. There was I, and little
- John Doit of Staffordshire, and black George Barnes, and Francis
- Pickbone, and Will Squele a Cotsole man- you had not four such
- swinge-bucklers in all the Inns of Court again. And I may say to
- you we knew where the bona-robas were, and had the best of them
- all at commandment. Then was Jack Falstaff, now Sir John, boy,
- and page to Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk.
- SILENCE. This Sir John, cousin, that comes hither anon about
- soldiers?
- SHALLOW. The same Sir John, the very same. I see him break
- Scoggin's head at the court gate, when 'a was a crack not thus
- high; and the very same day did I fight with one Sampson
- Stockfish, a fruiterer, behind Gray's Inn. Jesu, Jesu, the mad
- days that I have spent! and to see how many of my old
- acquaintance are dead!
- SILENCE. We shall all follow, cousin.
- SHALLOW. Certain, 'tis certain; very sure, very sure. Death, as the
- Psalmist saith, is certain to all; all shall die. How a good yoke
- of bullocks at Stamford fair?
- SILENCE. By my troth, I was not there.
- SHALLOW. Death is certain. Is old Double of your town living yet?
- SILENCE. Dead, sir.
- SHALLOW. Jesu, Jesu, dead! drew a good bow; and dead! 'A shot a
- fine shoot. John a Gaunt loved him well, and betted much money on
- his head. Dead! 'A would have clapp'd i' th' clout at twelve
- score, and carried you a forehand shaft a fourteen and fourteen
- and a half, that it would have done a man's heart good to see.
- How a score of ewes now?
- SILENCE. Thereafter as they be- a score of good ewes may be worth
- ten pounds.
- SHALLOW. And is old Double dead?
-
- Enter BARDOLPH, and one with him
-
- SILENCE. Here come two of Sir John Falstaffs men, as I think.
- SHALLOW. Good morrow, honest gentlemen.
- BARDOLPH. I beseech you, which is Justice Shallow?
- SHALLOW. I am Robert Shallow, sir, a poor esquire of this county,
- and one of the King's justices of the peace. What is your good
- pleasure with me?
- BARDOLPH. My captain, sir, commends him to you; my captain, Sir
- John Falstaff- a tall gentleman, by heaven, and a most gallant
- leader.
- SHALLOW. He greets me well, sir; I knew him a good back-sword man.
- How doth the good knight? May I ask how my lady his wife doth?
- BARDOLPH. Sir, pardon; a soldier is better accommodated than with a
- wife.
- SHALLOW. It is well said, in faith, sir; and it is well said indeed
- too. 'Better accommodated!' It is good; yea, indeed, is it. Good
- phrases are surely, and ever were, very commendable.
- 'Accommodated!' It comes of accommodo. Very good; a good phrase.
- BARDOLPH. Pardon, sir; I have heard the word. 'Phrase' call you it?
- By this day, I know not the phrase; but I will maintain the word
- with my sword to be a soldier-like word, and a word of exceeding
- good command, by heaven. Accommodated: that is, when a man is, as
- they say, accommodated; or, when a man is being-whereby 'a may be
- thought to be accommodated; which is an excellent thing.
-
- Enter FALSTAFF
-
- SHALLOW. It is very just. Look, here comes good Sir John. Give me
- your good hand, give me your worship's good hand. By my troth,
- you like well and bear your years very well. Welcome, good Sir
- John.
- FALSTAFF. I am glad to see you well, good Master Robert Shallow.
- Master Surecard, as I think?
- SHALLOW. No, Sir John; it is my cousin Silence, in commission with
- me.
- FALSTAFF. Good Master Silence, it well befits you should be of the
- peace.
- SILENCE. Your good worship is welcome.
- FALSTAFF. Fie! this is hot weather. Gentlemen, have you provided me
- here half a dozen sufficient men?
- SHALLOW. Marry, have we, sir. Will you sit?
- FALSTAFF. Let me see them, I beseech you.
- SHALLOW. Where's the roll? Where's the roll? Where's the roll? Let
- me see, let me see, let me see. So, so, so, so,- so, so- yea,
- marry, sir. Rafe Mouldy! Let them appear as I call; let them do
- so, let them do so. Let me see; where is Mouldy?
- MOULDY. Here, an't please you.
- SHALLOW. What think you, Sir John? A good-limb'd fellow; young,
- strong, and of good friends.
- FALSTAFF. Is thy name Mouldy?
- MOULDY. Yea, an't please you.
- FALSTAFF. 'Tis the more time thou wert us'd.
- SHALLOW. Ha, ha, ha! most excellent, i' faith! Things that are
- mouldy lack use. Very singular good! In faith, well said, Sir
- John; very well said.
- FALSTAFF. Prick him.
- MOULDY. I was prick'd well enough before, an you could have let me
- alone. My old dame will be undone now for one to do her husbandry
- and her drudgery. You need not to have prick'd me; there are
- other men fitter to go out than I.
- FALSTAFF. Go to; peace, Mouldy; you shall go. Mouldy, it is time
- you were spent.
- MOULDY. Spent!
- SHALLOW. Peace, fellow, peace; stand aside; know you where you are?
- For th' other, Sir John- let me see. Simon Shadow!
- FALSTAFF. Yea, marry, let me have him to sit under. He's like to be
- a cold soldier.
- SHALLOW. Where's Shadow?
- SHADOW. Here, sir.
- FALSTAFF. Shadow, whose son art thou?
- SHADOW. My mother's son, sir.
- FALSTAFF. Thy mother's son! Like enough; and thy father's shadow.
- So the son of the female is the shadow of the male. It is often
- so indeed; but much of the father's substance!
- SHALLOW. Do you like him, Sir John?
- FALSTAFF. Shadow will serve for summer. Prick him; for we have a
- number of shadows fill up the muster-book.
- SHALLOW. Thomas Wart!
- FALSTAFF. Where's he?
- WART. Here, sir.
- FALSTAFF. Is thy name Wart?
- WART. Yea, sir.
- FALSTAFF. Thou art a very ragged wart.
- SHALLOW. Shall I prick him, Sir John?
- FALSTAFF. It were superfluous; for his apparel is built upon his
- back, and the whole frame stands upon pins. Prick him no more.
- SHALLOW. Ha, ha, ha! You can do it, sir; you can do it. I commend
- you well. Francis Feeble!
- FEEBLE. Here, sir.
- FALSTAFF. What trade art thou, Feeble?
- FEEBLE. A woman's tailor, sir.
- SHALLOW. Shall I prick him, sir?
- FALSTAFF. You may; but if he had been a man's tailor, he'd ha'
- prick'd you. Wilt thou make as many holes in an enemy's battle as
- thou hast done in a woman's petticoat?
- FEEBLE. I will do my good will, sir; you can have no more.
- FALSTAFF. Well said, good woman's tailor! well said, courageous
- Feeble! Thou wilt be as valiant as the wrathful dove or most
- magnanimous mouse. Prick the woman's tailor- well, Master
- Shallow, deep, Master Shallow.
- FEEBLE. I would Wart might have gone, sir.
- FALSTAFF. I would thou wert a man's tailor, that thou mightst mend
- him and make him fit to go. I cannot put him to a private
- soldier, that is the leader of so many thousands. Let that
- suffice, most forcible Feeble.
- FEEBLE. It shall suffice, sir.
- FALSTAFF. I am bound to thee, reverend Feeble. Who is next?
- SHALLOW. Peter Bullcalf o' th' green!
- FALSTAFF. Yea, marry, let's see Bullcalf.
- BULLCALF. Here, sir.
- FALSTAFF. Fore God, a likely fellow! Come, prick me Bullcalf till
- he roar again.
- BULLCALF. O Lord! good my lord captain-
- FALSTAFF. What, dost thou roar before thou art prick'd?
- BULLCALF. O Lord, sir! I am a diseased man.
- FALSTAFF. What disease hast thou?
- BULLCALF. A whoreson cold, sir, a cough, sir, which I caught with
- ringing in the King's affairs upon his coronation day, sir.
- FALSTAFF. Come, thou shalt go to the wars in a gown. We will have
- away thy cold; and I will take such order that thy friends shall
- ring for thee. Is here all?
- SHALLOW. Here is two more call'd than your number. You must have
- but four here, sir; and so, I pray you, go in with me to dinner.
- FALSTAFF. Come, I will go drink with you, but I cannot tarry
- dinner. I am glad to see you, by my troth, Master Shallow.
- SHALLOW. O, Sir John, do you remember since we lay all night in the
- windmill in Saint George's Field?
- FALSTAFF. No more of that, Master Shallow, no more of that.
- SHALLOW. Ha, 'twas a merry night. And is Jane Nightwork alive?
- FALSTAFF. She lives, Master Shallow.
- SHALLOW. She never could away with me.
- FALSTAFF. Never, never; she would always say she could not abide
- Master Shallow.
- SHALLOW. By the mass, I could anger her to th' heart. She was then
- a bona-roba. Doth she hold her own well?
- FALSTAFF. Old, old, Master Shallow.
- SHALLOW. Nay, she must be old; she cannot choose but be old;
- certain she's old; and had Robin Nightwork, by old Nightwork,
- before I came to Clement's Inn.
- SILENCE. That's fifty-five year ago.
- SHALLOW. Ha, cousin Silence, that thou hadst seen that that this
- knight and I have seen! Ha, Sir John, said I well?
- FALSTAFF. We have heard the chimes at midnight, Master Shallow.
- SHALLOW. That we have, that we have, that we have; in faith, Sir
- John, we have. Our watchword was 'Hem, boys!' Come, let's to
- dinner; come, let's to dinner. Jesus, the days that we have seen!
- Come, come.
- Exeunt FALSTAFF and the JUSTICES
- BULLCALF. Good Master Corporate Bardolph, stand my friend; and
- here's four Harry ten shillings in French crowns for you. In very
- truth, sir, I had as lief be hang'd, sir, as go. And yet, for
- mine own part, sir, I do not care; but rather because I am
- unwilling and, for mine own part, have a desire to stay with my
- friends; else, sir, I did not care for mine own part so much.
- BARDOLPH. Go to; stand aside.
- MOULDY. And, good Master Corporal Captain, for my old dame's sake,
- stand my friend. She has nobody to do anything about her when I
- am gone; and she is old, and cannot help herself. You shall have
- forty, sir.
- BARDOLPH. Go to; stand aside.
- FEEBLE. By my troth, I care not; a man can die but once; we owe God
- a death. I'll ne'er bear a base mind. An't be my destiny, so;
- an't be not, so. No man's too good to serve 's Prince; and, let
- it go which way it will, he that dies this year is quit for the
- next.
- BARDOLPH. Well said; th'art a good fellow.
- FEEBLE. Faith, I'll bear no base mind.
-
- Re-enter FALSTAFF and the JUSTICES
-
- FALSTAFF. Come, sir, which men shall I have?
- SHALLOW. Four of which you please.
- BARDOLPH. Sir, a word with you. I have three pound to free Mouldy
- and Bullcalf.
- FALSTAFF. Go to; well.
- SHALLOW. Come, Sir John, which four will you have?
- FALSTAFF. Do you choose for me.
- SHALLOW. Marry, then- Mouldy, Bullcalf, Feeble, and Shadow.
- FALSTAFF. Mouldy and Bullcalf: for you, Mouldy, stay at home till
- you are past service; and for your part, Bullcalf, grow you come
- unto it. I will none of you.
- SHALLOW. Sir John, Sir John, do not yourself wrong. They are your
- likeliest men, and I would have you serv'd with the best.
- FALSTAFF. Will you tell me, Master Shallow, how to choose a man?
- Care I for the limb, the thews, the stature, bulk, and big
- assemblance of a man! Give me the spirit, Master Shallow. Here's
- Wart; you see what a ragged appearance it is. 'A shall charge you
- and discharge you with the motion of a pewterer's hammer, come
- off and on swifter than he that gibbets on the brewer's bucket.
- And this same half-fac'd fellow, Shadow- give me this man. He
- presents no mark to the enemy; the foeman may with as great aim
- level at the edge of a penknife. And, for a retreat- how swiftly
- will this Feeble, the woman's tailor, run off! O, give me the
- spare men, and spare me the great ones. Put me a caliver into
- Wart's hand, Bardolph.
- BARDOLPH. Hold, Wart. Traverse- thus, thus, thus.
- FALSTAFF. Come, manage me your caliver. So- very well. Go to; very
- good; exceeding good. O, give me always a little, lean, old,
- chopt, bald shot. Well said, i' faith, Wart; th'art a good scab.
- Hold, there's a tester for thee.
- SHALLOW. He is not his craft's master, he doth not do it right. I
- remember at Mile-end Green, when I lay at Clement's Inn- I was
- then Sir Dagonet in Arthur's show- there was a little quiver
- fellow, and 'a would manage you his piece thus; and 'a would
- about and about, and come you in and come you in. 'Rah, tah,
- tah!' would 'a say; 'Bounce!' would 'a say; and away again would
- 'a go, and again would 'a come. I shall ne'er see such a fellow.
- FALSTAFF. These fellows will do well. Master Shallow, God keep you!
- Master Silence, I will not use many words with you: Fare you
- well! Gentlemen both, I thank you. I must a dozen mile to-night.
- Bardolph, give the soldiers coats.
- SHALLOW. Sir John, the Lord bless you; God prosper your affairs;
- God send us peace! At your return, visit our house; let our old
- acquaintance be renewed. Peradventure I will with ye to the
- court.
- FALSTAFF. Fore God, would you would.
- SHALLOW. Go to; I have spoke at a word. God keep you.
- FALSTAFF. Fare you well, gentle gentlemen. [Exeunt JUSTICES] On,
- Bardolph; lead the men away. [Exeunt all but FALSTAFF] As I
- return, I will fetch off these justices. I do see the bottom of
- justice Shallow. Lord, Lord, how subject we old men are to this
- vice of lying! This same starv'd justice hath done nothing but
- prate to me of the wildness of his youth and the feats he hath
- done about Turnbull Street; and every third word a lie, duer paid
- to the hearer than the Turk's tribute. I do remember him at
- Clement's Inn, like a man made after supper of a cheese-paring.
- When 'a was naked, he was for all the world like a fork'd radish,
- with a head fantastically carved upon it with a knife. 'A was so
- forlorn that his dimensions to any thick sight were invisible. 'A
- was the very genius of famine; yet lecherous as a monkey, and the
- whores call'd him mandrake. 'A came ever in the rearward of the
- fashion, and sung those tunes to the overscutch'd huswifes that
- he heard the carmen whistle, and sware they were his fancies or
- his good-nights. And now is this Vice's dagger become a squire,
- and talks as familiarly of John a Gaunt as if he had been sworn
- brother to him; and I'll be sworn 'a ne'er saw him but once in
- the Tiltyard; and then he burst his head for crowding among the
- marshal's men. I saw it, and told John a Gaunt he beat his own
- name; for you might have thrust him and all his apparel into an
- eel-skin; the case of a treble hautboy was a mansion for him, a
- court- and now has he land and beeves. Well, I'll be acquainted
- with him if I return; and 't shall go hard but I'll make him a
- philosopher's two stones to me. If the young dace be a bait for
- the old pike, I see no reason in the law of nature but I may snap
- at him. Let time shape, and there an end. Exit
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-ACT IV. SCENE I.
-Yorkshire. Within the Forest of Gaultree
-
-Enter the ARCHBISHOP OF YORK, MOWBRAY, HASTINGS, and others
-
- ARCHBISHOP. What is this forest call'd
- HASTINGS. 'Tis Gaultree Forest, an't shall please your Grace.
- ARCHBISHOP. Here stand, my lords, and send discoverers forth
- To know the numbers of our enemies.
- HASTINGS. We have sent forth already.
- ARCHBISHOP. 'Tis well done.
- My friends and brethren in these great affairs,
- I must acquaint you that I have receiv'd
- New-dated letters from Northumberland;
- Their cold intent, tenour, and substance, thus:
- Here doth he wish his person, with such powers
- As might hold sortance with his quality,
- The which he could not levy; whereupon
- He is retir'd, to ripe his growing fortunes,
- To Scotland; and concludes in hearty prayers
- That your attempts may overlive the hazard
- And fearful meeting of their opposite.
- MOWBRAY. Thus do the hopes we have in him touch ground
- And dash themselves to pieces.
-
- Enter A MESSENGER
-
- HASTINGS. Now, what news?
- MESSENGER. West of this forest, scarcely off a mile,
- In goodly form comes on the enemy;
- And, by the ground they hide, I judge their number
- Upon or near the rate of thirty thousand.
- MOWBRAY. The just proportion that we gave them out.
- Let us sway on and face them in the field.
-
- Enter WESTMORELAND
-
- ARCHBISHOP. What well-appointed leader fronts us here?
- MOWBRAY. I think it is my Lord of Westmoreland.
- WESTMORELAND. Health and fair greeting from our general,
- The Prince, Lord John and Duke of Lancaster.
- ARCHBISHOP. Say on, my Lord of Westmoreland, in peace,
- What doth concern your coming.
- WESTMORELAND. Then, my lord,
- Unto your Grace do I in chief address
- The substance of my speech. If that rebellion
- Came like itself, in base and abject routs,
- Led on by bloody youth, guarded with rags,
- And countenanc'd by boys and beggary-
- I say, if damn'd commotion so appear'd
- In his true, native, and most proper shape,
- You, reverend father, and these noble lords,
- Had not been here to dress the ugly form
- Of base and bloody insurrection
- With your fair honours. You, Lord Archbishop,
- Whose see is by a civil peace maintain'd,
- Whose beard the silver hand of peace hath touch'd,
- Whose learning and good letters peace hath tutor'd,
- Whose white investments figure innocence,
- The dove, and very blessed spirit of peace-
- Wherefore you do so ill translate yourself
- Out of the speech of peace, that bears such grace,
- Into the harsh and boist'rous tongue of war;
- Turning your books to graves, your ink to blood,
- Your pens to lances, and your tongue divine
- To a loud trumpet and a point of war?
- ARCHBISHOP. Wherefore do I this? So the question stands.
- Briefly to this end: we are all diseas'd
- And with our surfeiting and wanton hours
- Have brought ourselves into a burning fever,
- And we must bleed for it; of which disease
- Our late King, Richard, being infected, died.
- But, my most noble Lord of Westmoreland,
- I take not on me here as a physician;
- Nor do I as an enemy to peace
- Troop in the throngs of military men;
- But rather show awhile like fearful war
- To diet rank minds sick of happiness,
- And purge th' obstructions which begin to stop
- Our very veins of life. Hear me more plainly.
- I have in equal balance justly weigh'd
- What wrongs our arms may do, what wrongs we suffer,
- And find our griefs heavier than our offences.
- We see which way the stream of time doth run
- And are enforc'd from our most quiet there
- By the rough torrent of occasion;
- And have the summary of all our griefs,
- When time shall serve, to show in articles;
- Which long ere this we offer'd to the King,
- And might by no suit gain our audience:
- When we are wrong'd, and would unfold our griefs,
- We are denied access unto his person,
- Even by those men that most have done us wrong.
- The dangers of the days but newly gone,
- Whose memory is written on the earth
- With yet appearing blood, and the examples
- Of every minute's instance, present now,
- Hath put us in these ill-beseeming arms;
- Not to break peace, or any branch of it,
- But to establish here a peace indeed,
- Concurring both in name and quality.
- WESTMORELAND. When ever yet was your appeal denied;
- Wherein have you been galled by the King;
- What peer hath been suborn'd to grate on you
- That you should seal this lawless bloody book
- Of forg'd rebellion with a seal divine,
- And consecrate commotion's bitter edge?
- ARCHBISHOP. My brother general, the commonwealth,
- To brother horn an household cruelty,
- I make my quarrel in particular.
- WESTMORELAND. There is no need of any such redress;
- Or if there were, it not belongs to you.
- MOWBRAY. Why not to him in part, and to us all
- That feel the bruises of the days before,
- And suffer the condition of these times
- To lay a heavy and unequal hand
- Upon our honours?
- WESTMORELAND. O my good Lord Mowbray,
- Construe the times to their necessities,
- And you shall say, indeed, it is the time,
- And not the King, that doth you injuries.
- Yet, for your part, it not appears to me,
- Either from the King or in the present time,
- That you should have an inch of any ground
- To build a grief on. Were you not restor'd
- To all the Duke of Norfolk's signiories,
- Your noble and right well-rememb'red father's?
- MOWBRAY. What thing, in honour, had my father lost
- That need to be reviv'd and breath'd in me?
- The King that lov'd him, as the state stood then,
- Was force perforce compell'd to banish him,
- And then that Henry Bolingbroke and he,
- Being mounted and both roused in their seats,
- Their neighing coursers daring of the spur,
- Their armed staves in charge, their beavers down,
- Their eyes of fire sparkling through sights of steel,
- And the loud trumpet blowing them together-
- Then, then, when there was nothing could have stay'd
- My father from the breast of Bolingbroke,
- O, when the King did throw his warder down-
- His own life hung upon the staff he threw-
- Then threw he down himself, and all their lives
- That by indictment and by dint of sword
- Have since miscarried under Bolingbroke.
- WESTMORELAND. You speak, Lord Mowbray, now you know not what.
- The Earl of Hereford was reputed then
- In England the most valiant gentleman.
- Who knows on whom fortune would then have smil'd?
- But if your father had been victor there,
- He ne'er had borne it out of Coventry;
- For all the country, in a general voice,
- Cried hate upon him; and all their prayers and love
- Were set on Hereford, whom they doted on,
- And bless'd and grac'd indeed more than the King.
- But this is mere digression from my purpose.
- Here come I from our princely general
- To know your griefs; to tell you from his Grace
- That he will give you audience; and wherein
- It shall appear that your demands are just,
- You shall enjoy them, everything set off
- That might so much as think you enemies.
- MOWBRAY. But he hath forc'd us to compel this offer;
- And it proceeds from policy, not love.
- WESTMORELAND. Mowbray. you overween to take it so.
- This offer comes from mercy, not from fear;
- For, lo! within a ken our army lies-
- Upon mine honour, all too confident
- To give admittance to a thought of fear.
- Our battle is more full of names than yours,
- Our men more perfect in the use of arms,
- Our armour all as strong, our cause the best;
- Then reason will our hearts should be as good.
- Say you not, then, our offer is compell'd.
- MOWBRAY. Well, by my will we shall admit no parley.
- WESTMORELAND. That argues but the shame of your offence:
- A rotten case abides no handling.
- HASTINGS. Hath the Prince John a full commission,
- In very ample virtue of his father,
- To hear and absolutely to determine
- Of what conditions we shall stand upon?
- WESTMORELAND. That is intended in the general's name.
- I muse you make so slight a question.
- ARCHBISHOP. Then take, my Lord of Westmoreland, this schedule,
- For this contains our general grievances.
- Each several article herein redress'd,
- All members of our cause, both here and hence,
- That are insinewed to this action,
- Acquitted by a true substantial form,
- And present execution of our wills
- To us and to our purposes confin'd-
- We come within our awful banks again,
- And knit our powers to the arm of peace.
- WESTMORELAND. This will I show the general. Please you, lords,
- In sight of both our battles we may meet;
- And either end in peace- which God so frame!-
- Or to the place of diff'rence call the swords
- Which must decide it.
- ARCHBISHOP. My lord, we will do so. Exit WESTMORELAND
- MOWBRAY. There is a thing within my bosom tells me
- That no conditions of our peace can stand.
- HASTINGS. Fear you not that: if we can make our peace
- Upon such large terms and so absolute
- As our conditions shall consist upon,
- Our peace shall stand as firm as rocky mountains.
- MOWBRAY. Yea, but our valuation shall be such
- That every slight and false-derived cause,
- Yea, every idle, nice, and wanton reason,
- Shall to the King taste of this action;
- That, were our royal faiths martyrs in love,
- We shall be winnow'd with so rough a wind
- That even our corn shall seem as light as chaff,
- And good from bad find no partition.
- ARCHBISHOP. No, no, my lord. Note this: the King is weary
- Of dainty and such picking grievances;
- For he hath found to end one doubt by death
- Revives two greater in the heirs of life;
- And therefore will he wipe his tables clean,
- And keep no tell-tale to his memory
- That may repeat and history his los
- To new remembrance. For full well he knows
- He cannot so precisely weed this land
- As his misdoubts present occasion:
- His foes are so enrooted with his friends
- That, plucking to unfix an enemy,
- He doth unfasten so and shake a friend.
- So that this land, like an offensive wife
- That hath enrag'd him on to offer strokes,
- As he is striking, holds his infant up,
- And hangs resolv'd correction in the arm
- That was uprear'd to execution.
- HASTINGS. Besides, the King hath wasted all his rods
- On late offenders, that he now doth lack
- The very instruments of chastisement;
- So that his power, like to a fangless lion,
- May offer, but not hold.
- ARCHBISHOP. 'Tis very true;
- And therefore be assur'd, my good Lord Marshal,
- If we do now make our atonement well,
- Our peace will, like a broken limb united,
- Grow stronger for the breaking.
- MOWBRAY. Be it so.
- Here is return'd my Lord of Westmoreland.
-
- Re-enter WESTMORELAND
-
- WESTMORELAND. The Prince is here at hand. Pleaseth your lordship
- To meet his Grace just distance 'tween our armies?
- MOWBRAY. Your Grace of York, in God's name then, set forward.
- ARCHBISHOP. Before, and greet his Grace. My lord, we come.
- Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-Another part of the forest
-
-Enter, from one side, MOWBRAY, attended; afterwards, the ARCHBISHOP,
-HASTINGS, and others; from the other side, PRINCE JOHN of LANCASTER,
-WESTMORELAND, OFFICERS, and others
-
- PRINCE JOHN. You are well encount'red here, my cousin Mowbray.
- Good day to you, gentle Lord Archbishop;
- And so to you, Lord Hastings, and to all.
- My Lord of York, it better show'd with you
- When that your flock, assembled by the bell,
- Encircled you to hear with reverence
- Your exposition on the holy text
- Than now to see you here an iron man,
- Cheering a rout of rebels with your drum,
- Turning the word to sword, and life to death.
- That man that sits within a monarch's heart
- And ripens in the sunshine of his favour,
- Would he abuse the countenance of the king,
- Alack, what mischiefs might he set abroach
- In shadow of such greatness! With you, Lord Bishop,
- It is even so. Who hath not heard it spoken
- How deep you were within the books of God?
- To us the speaker in His parliament,
- To us th' imagin'd voice of God himself,
- The very opener and intelligencer
- Between the grace, the sanctities of heaven,
- And our dull workings. O, who shall believe
- But you misuse the reverence of your place,
- Employ the countenance and grace of heav'n
- As a false favourite doth his prince's name,
- In deeds dishonourable? You have ta'en up,
- Under the counterfeited zeal of God,
- The subjects of His substitute, my father,
- And both against the peace of heaven and him
- Have here up-swarm'd them.
- ARCHBISHOP. Good my Lord of Lancaster,
- I am not here against your father's peace;
- But, as I told my Lord of Westmoreland,
- The time misord'red doth, in common sense,
- Crowd us and crush us to this monstrous form
- To hold our safety up. I sent your Grace
- The parcels and particulars of our grief,
- The which hath been with scorn shov'd from the court,
- Whereon this hydra son of war is born;
- Whose dangerous eyes may well be charm'd asleep
- With grant of our most just and right desires;
- And true obedience, of this madness cur'd,
- Stoop tamely to the foot of majesty.
- MOWBRAY. If not, we ready are to try our fortunes
- To the last man.
- HASTINGS. And though we here fall down,
- We have supplies to second our attempt.
- If they miscarry, theirs shall second them;
- And so success of mischief shall be born,
- And heir from heir shall hold this quarrel up
- Whiles England shall have generation.
- PRINCE JOHN. YOU are too shallow, Hastings, much to shallow,
- To sound the bottom of the after-times.
- WESTMORELAND. Pleaseth your Grace to answer them directly
- How far forth you do like their articles.
- PRINCE JOHN. I like them all and do allow them well;
- And swear here, by the honour of my blood,
- My father's purposes have been mistook;
- And some about him have too lavishly
- Wrested his meaning and authority.
- My lord, these griefs shall be with speed redress'd;
- Upon my soul, they shall. If this may please you,
- Discharge your powers unto their several counties,
- As we will ours; and here, between the armies,
- Let's drink together friendly and embrace,
- That all their eyes may bear those tokens home
- Of our restored love and amity.
- ARCHBISHOP. I take your princely word for these redresses.
- PRINCE JOHN. I give it you, and will maintain my word;
- And thereupon I drink unto your Grace.
- HASTINGS. Go, Captain, and deliver to the army
- This news of peace. Let them have pay, and part.
- I know it will please them. Hie thee, Captain.
- Exit Officer
- ARCHBISHOP. To you, my noble Lord of Westmoreland.
- WESTMORELAND. I pledge your Grace; and if you knew what pains
- I have bestow'd to breed this present peace,
- You would drink freely; but my love to ye
- Shall show itself more openly hereafter.
- ARCHBISHOP. I do not doubt you.
- WESTMORELAND. I am glad of it.
- Health to my lord and gentle cousin, Mowbray.
- MOWBRAY. You wish me health in very happy season,
- For I am on the sudden something ill.
- ARCHBISHOP. Against ill chances men are ever merry;
- But heaviness foreruns the good event.
- WESTMORELAND. Therefore be merry, coz; since sudden sorrow
- Serves to say thus, 'Some good thing comes to-morrow.'
- ARCHBISHOP. Believe me, I am passing light in spirit.
- MOWBRAY. So much the worse, if your own rule be true.
- [Shouts within]
- PRINCE JOHN. The word of peace is rend'red. Hark, how they shout!
- MOWBRAY. This had been cheerful after victory.
- ARCHBISHOP. A peace is of the nature of a conquest;
- For then both parties nobly are subdu'd,
- And neither party loser.
- PRINCE JOHN. Go, my lord,
- And let our army be discharged too.
- Exit WESTMORELAND
- And, good my lord, so please you let our trains
- March by us, that we may peruse the men
- We should have cop'd withal.
- ARCHBISHOP. Go, good Lord Hastings,
- And, ere they be dismiss'd, let them march by.
- Exit HASTINGS
- PRINCE JOHN. I trust, lords, we shall lie to-night together.
-
- Re-enter WESTMORELAND
-
- Now, cousin, wherefore stands our army still?
- WESTMORELAND. The leaders, having charge from you to stand,
- Will not go off until they hear you speak.
- PRINCE JOHN. They know their duties.
-
- Re-enter HASTINGS
-
- HASTINGS. My lord, our army is dispers'd already.
- Like youthful steers unyok'd, they take their courses
- East, west, north, south; or like a school broke up,
- Each hurries toward his home and sporting-place.
- WESTMORELAND. Good tidings, my Lord Hastings; for the which
- I do arrest thee, traitor, of high treason;
- And you, Lord Archbishop, and you, Lord Mowbray,
- Of capital treason I attach you both.
- MOWBRAY. Is this proceeding just and honourable?
- WESTMORELAND. Is your assembly so?
- ARCHBISHOP. Will you thus break your faith?
- PRINCE JOHN. I pawn'd thee none:
- I promis'd you redress of these same grievances
- Whereof you did complain; which, by mine honour,
- I will perform with a most Christian care.
- But for you, rebels- look to taste the due
- Meet for rebellion and such acts as yours.
- Most shallowly did you these arms commence,
- Fondly brought here, and foolishly sent hence.
- Strike up our drums, pursue the scatt'red stray.
- God, and not we, hath safely fought to-day.
- Some guard these traitors to the block of death,
- Treason's true bed and yielder-up of breath. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-Another part of the forest
-
-Alarum; excursions. Enter FALSTAFF and COLVILLE, meeting
-
- FALSTAFF. What's your name, sir? Of what condition are you, and of
- what place, I pray?
- COLVILLE. I am a knight sir; and my name is Colville of the Dale.
- FALSTAFF. Well then, Colville is your name, a knight is your
- degree, and your place the Dale. Colville shall still be your
- name, a traitor your degree, and the dungeon your place- a place
- deep enough; so shall you be still Colville of the Dale.
- COLVILLE. Are not you Sir John Falstaff?
- FALSTAFF. As good a man as he, sir, whoe'er I am. Do you yield,
- sir, or shall I sweat for you? If I do sweat, they are the drops
- of thy lovers, and they weep for thy death; therefore rouse up
- fear and trembling, and do observance to my mercy.
- COLVILLE. I think you are Sir John Falstaff, and in that thought
- yield me.
- FALSTAFF. I have a whole school of tongues in this belly of mine;
- and not a tongue of them all speaks any other word but my name.
- An I had but a belly of any indifferency, I were simply the most
- active fellow in Europe. My womb, my womb, my womb undoes me.
- Here comes our general.
-
- Enter PRINCE JOHN OF LANCASTER, WESTMORELAND,
- BLUNT, and others
-
- PRINCE JOHN. The heat is past; follow no further now.
- Call in the powers, good cousin Westmoreland.
- Exit WESTMORELAND
- Now, Falstaff, where have you been all this while?
- When everything is ended, then you come.
- These tardy tricks of yours will, on my life,
- One time or other break some gallows' back.
- FALSTAFF. I would be sorry, my lord, but it should be thus: I never
- knew yet but rebuke and check was the reward of valour. Do you
- think me a swallow, an arrow, or a bullet? Have I, in my poor and
- old motion, the expedition of thought? I have speeded hither with
- the very extremest inch of possibility; I have found'red nine
- score and odd posts; and here, travel tainted as I am, have, in
- my pure and immaculate valour, taken Sir John Colville of the
- Dale,a most furious knight and valorous enemy. But what of that?
- He saw me, and yielded; that I may justly say with the hook-nos'd
- fellow of Rome-I came, saw, and overcame.
- PRINCE JOHN. It was more of his courtesy than your deserving.
- FALSTAFF. I know not. Here he is, and here I yield him; and I
- beseech your Grace, let it be book'd with the rest of this day's
- deeds; or, by the Lord, I will have it in a particular ballad
- else, with mine own picture on the top on't, Colville kissing my
- foot; to the which course if I be enforc'd, if you do not all
- show like gilt twopences to me, and I, in the clear sky of fame,
- o'ershine you as much as the full moon doth the cinders of the
- element, which show like pins' heads to her, believe not the word
- of the noble. Therefore let me have right, and let desert mount.
- PRINCE JOHN. Thine's too heavy to mount.
- FALSTAFF. Let it shine, then.
- PRINCE JOHN. Thine's too thick to shine.
- FALSTAFF. Let it do something, my good lord, that may do me good,
- and call it what you will.
- PRINCE JOHN. Is thy name Colville?
- COLVILLE. It is, my lord.
- PRINCE JOHN. A famous rebel art thou, Colville.
- FALSTAFF. And a famous true subject took him.
- COLVILLE. I am, my lord, but as my betters are
- That led me hither. Had they been rul'd by me,
- You should have won them dearer than you have.
- FALSTAFF. I know not how they sold themselves; but thou, like a
- kind fellow, gavest thyself away gratis; and I thank thee for
- thee.
-
- Re-enter WESTMORELAND
-
- PRINCE JOHN. Now, have you left pursuit?
- WESTMORELAND. Retreat is made, and execution stay'd.
- PRINCE JOHN. Send Colville, with his confederates,
- To York, to present execution.
- Blunt, lead him hence; and see you guard him sure.
- Exeunt BLUNT and others
- And now dispatch we toward the court, my lords.
- I hear the King my father is sore sick.
- Our news shall go before us to his Majesty,
- Which, cousin, you shall bear to comfort him
- And we with sober speed will follow you.
- FALSTAFF. My lord, I beseech you, give me leave to go through
- Gloucestershire; and, when you come to court, stand my good lord,
- pray, in your good report.
- PRINCE JOHN. Fare you well, Falstaff. I, in my condition,
- Shall better speak of you than you deserve.
- Exeunt all but FALSTAFF
- FALSTAFF. I would you had but the wit; 'twere better than your
- dukedom. Good faith, this same young sober-blooded boy doth not
- love me; nor a man cannot make him laugh- but that's no marvel;
- he drinks no wine. There's never none of these demure boys come
- to any proof; for thin drink doth so over-cool their blood, and
- making many fish-meals, that they fall into a kind of male
- green-sickness; and then, when they marry, they get wenches. They
- are generally fools and cowards-which some of us should be too,
- but for inflammation. A good sherris-sack hath a two-fold
- operation in it. It ascends me into the brain; dries me there all
- the foolish and dull and crudy vapours which environ it; makes it
- apprehensive, quick, forgetive, full of nimble, fiery, and
- delectable shapes; which delivered o'er to the voice, the tongue,
- which is the birth, becomes excellent wit. The second property of
- your excellent sherris is the warming of the blood; which before,
- cold and settled, left the liver white and pale, which is the
- badge of pusillanimity and cowardice; but the sherris warms it,
- and makes it course from the inwards to the parts extremes. It
- illumineth the face, which, as a beacon, gives warning to all the
- rest of this little kingdom, man, to arm; and then the vital
- commoners and inland petty spirits muster me all to their
- captain, the heart, who, great and puff'd up with this retinue,
- doth any deed of courage- and this valour comes of sherris. So
- that skill in the weapon is nothing without sack, for that sets
- it a-work; and learning, a mere hoard of gold kept by a devil
- till sack commences it and sets it in act and use. Hereof comes
- it that Prince Harry is valiant; for the cold blood he did
- naturally inherit of his father, he hath, like lean, sterile, and
- bare land, manured, husbanded, and till'd, with excellent
- endeavour of drinking good and good store of fertile sherris,
- that he is become very hot and valiant. If I had a thousand sons,
- the first humane principle I would teach them should be to
- forswear thin potations and to addict themselves to sack.
-
- Enter BARDOLPH
-
- How now, Bardolph!
- BARDOLPH. The army is discharged all and gone.
- FALSTAFF. Let them go. I'll through Gloucestershire, and there will
- I visit Master Robert Shallow, Esquire. I have him already
- temp'ring between my finger and my thumb, and shortly will I seal
- with him. Come away. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE IV.
-Westminster. The Jerusalem Chamber
-
-Enter the KING, PRINCE THOMAS OF CLARENCE, PRINCE HUMPHREY OF GLOUCESTER,
-WARWICK, and others
-
- KING. Now, lords, if God doth give successful end
- To this debate that bleedeth at our doors,
- We will our youth lead on to higher fields,
- And draw no swords but what are sanctified.
- Our navy is address'd, our power connected,
- Our substitutes in absence well invested,
- And everything lies level to our wish.
- Only we want a little personal strength;
- And pause us till these rebels, now afoot,
- Come underneath the yoke of government.
- WARWICK. Both which we doubt not but your Majesty
- Shall soon enjoy.
- KING. Humphrey, my son of Gloucester,
- Where is the Prince your brother?
- PRINCE HUMPHREY. I think he's gone to hunt, my lord, at Windsor.
- KING. And how accompanied?
- PRINCE HUMPHREY. I do not know, my lord.
- KING. Is not his brother, Thomas of Clarence, with him?
- PRINCE HUMPHREY. No, my good lord, he is in presence here.
- CLARENCE. What would my lord and father?
- KING. Nothing but well to thee, Thomas of Clarence.
- How chance thou art not with the Prince thy brother?
- He loves thee, and thou dost neglect him, Thomas.
- Thou hast a better place in his affection
- Than all thy brothers; cherish it, my boy,
- And noble offices thou mayst effect
- Of mediation, after I am dead,
- Between his greatness and thy other brethren.
- Therefore omit him not; blunt not his love,
- Nor lose the good advantage of his grace
- By seeming cold or careless of his will;
- For he is gracious if he be observ'd.
- He hath a tear for pity and a hand
- Open as day for melting charity;
- Yet notwithstanding, being incens'd, he is flint;
- As humorous as winter, and as sudden
- As flaws congealed in the spring of day.
- His temper, therefore, must be well observ'd.
- Chide him for faults, and do it reverently,
- When you perceive his blood inclin'd to mirth;
- But, being moody, give him line and scope
- Till that his passions, like a whale on ground,
- Confound themselves with working. Learn this, Thomas,
- And thou shalt prove a shelter to thy friends,
- A hoop of gold to bind thy brothers in,
- That the united vessel of their blood,
- Mingled with venom of suggestion-
- As, force perforce, the age will pour it in-
- Shall never leak, though it do work as strong
- As aconitum or rash gunpowder.
- CLARENCE. I shall observe him with all care and love.
- KING. Why art thou not at Windsor with him, Thomas?
- CLARENCE. He is not there to-day; he dines in London.
- KING. And how accompanied? Canst thou tell that?
- CLARENCE. With Poins, and other his continual followers.
- KING. Most subject is the fattest soil to weeds;
- And he, the noble image of my youth,
- Is overspread with them; therefore my grief
- Stretches itself beyond the hour of death.
- The blood weeps from my heart when I do shape,
- In forms imaginary, th'unguided days
- And rotten times that you shall look upon
- When I am sleeping with my ancestors.
- For when his headstrong riot hath no curb,
- When rage and hot blood are his counsellors
- When means and lavish manners meet together,
- O, with what wings shall his affections fly
- Towards fronting peril and oppos'd decay!
- WARWICK. My gracious lord, you look beyond him quite.
- The Prince but studies his companions
- Like a strange tongue, wherein, to gain the language,
- 'Tis needful that the most immodest word
- Be look'd upon and learnt; which once attain'd,
- Your Highness knows, comes to no further use
- But to be known and hated. So, like gross terms,
- The Prince will, in the perfectness of time,
- Cast off his followers; and their memory
- Shall as a pattern or a measure live
- By which his Grace must mete the lives of other,
- Turning past evils to advantages.
- KING. 'Tis seldom when the bee doth leave her comb
- In the dead carrion.
-
- Enter WESTMORELAND
-
- Who's here? Westmoreland?
- WESTMORELAND. Health to my sovereign, and new happiness
- Added to that that am to deliver!
- Prince John, your son, doth kiss your Grace's hand.
- Mowbray, the Bishop Scroop, Hastings, and all,
- Are brought to the correction of your law.
- There is not now a rebel's sword unsheath'd,
- But Peace puts forth her olive everywhere.
- The manner how this action hath been borne
- Here at more leisure may your Highness read,
- With every course in his particular.
- KING. O Westmoreland, thou art a summer bird,
- Which ever in the haunch of winter sings
- The lifting up of day.
-
- Enter HARCOURT
-
- Look here's more news.
- HARCOURT. From enemies heaven keep your Majesty;
- And, when they stand against you, may they fall
- As those that I am come to tell you of!
- The Earl Northumberland and the Lord Bardolph,
- With a great power of English and of Scots,
- Are by the shrieve of Yorkshire overthrown.
- The manner and true order of the fight
- This packet, please it you, contains at large.
- KING. And wherefore should these good news make me sick?
- Will Fortune never come with both hands full,
- But write her fair words still in foulest letters?
- She either gives a stomach and no food-
- Such are the poor, in health- or else a feast,
- And takes away the stomach- such are the rich
- That have abundance and enjoy it not.
- I should rejoice now at this happy news;
- And now my sight fails, and my brain is giddy.
- O me! come near me now I am much ill.
- PRINCE HUMPHREY. Comfort, your Majesty!
- CLARENCE. O my royal father!
- WESTMORELAND. My sovereign lord, cheer up yourself, look up.
- WARWICK. Be patient, Princes; you do know these fits
- Are with his Highness very ordinary.
- Stand from him, give him air; he'll straight be well.
- CLARENCE. No, no; he cannot long hold out these pangs.
- Th' incessant care and labour of his mind
- Hath wrought the mure that should confine it in
- So thin that life looks through, and will break out.
- PRINCE HUMPHREY. The people fear me; for they do observe
- Unfather'd heirs and loathly births of nature.
- The seasons change their manners, as the year
- Had found some months asleep, and leapt them over.
- CLARENCE. The river hath thrice flow'd, no ebb between;
- And the old folk, Time's doting chronicles,
- Say it did so a little time before
- That our great grandsire, Edward, sick'd and died.
- WARWICK. Speak lower, Princes, for the King recovers.
- PRINCE HUMPHREY. This apoplexy will certain be his end.
- KING. I pray you take me up, and bear me hence
- Into some other chamber. Softly, pray. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE V.
-Westminster. Another chamber
-
-The KING lying on a bed; CLARENCE, GLOUCESTER, WARWICK,
-and others in attendance
-
- KING. Let there be no noise made, my gentle friends;
- Unless some dull and favourable hand
- Will whisper music to my weary spirit.
- WARWICK. Call for the music in the other room.
- KING. Set me the crown upon my pillow here.
- CLARENCE. His eye is hollow, and he changes much.
- WARWICK. Less noise! less noise!
-
- Enter PRINCE HENRY
-
- PRINCE. Who saw the Duke of Clarence?
- CLARENCE. I am here, brother, full of heaviness.
- PRINCE. How now! Rain within doors, and none abroad!
- How doth the King?
- PRINCE HUMPHREY. Exceeding ill.
- PRINCE. Heard he the good news yet? Tell it him.
- PRINCE HUMPHREY. He alt'red much upon the hearing it.
- PRINCE. If he be sick with joy, he'll recover without physic.
- WARWICK. Not so much noise, my lords. Sweet Prince, speak low;
- The King your father is dispos'd to sleep.
- CLARENCE. Let us withdraw into the other room.
- WARWICK. Will't please your Grace to go along with us?
- PRINCE. No; I will sit and watch here by the King.
- Exeunt all but the PRINCE
- Why doth the crown lie there upon his pillow,
- Being so troublesome a bedfellow?
- O polish'd perturbation! golden care!
- That keep'st the ports of slumber open wide
- To many a watchful night! Sleep with it now!
- Yet not so sound and half so deeply sweet
- As he whose brow with homely biggen bound
- Snores out the watch of night. O majesty!
- When thou dost pinch thy bearer, thou dost sit
- Like a rich armour worn in heat of day
- That scald'st with safety. By his gates of breath
- There lies a downy feather which stirs not.
- Did he suspire, that light and weightless down
- Perforce must move. My gracious lord! my father!
- This sleep is sound indeed; this is a sleep
- That from this golden rigol hath divorc'd
- So many English kings. Thy due from me
- Is tears and heavy sorrows of the blood
- Which nature, love, and filial tenderness,
- Shall, O dear father, pay thee plenteously.
- My due from thee is this imperial crown,
- Which, as immediate from thy place and blood,
- Derives itself to me. [Putting on the crown] Lo where it sits-
- Which God shall guard; and put the world's whole strength
- Into one giant arm, it shall not force
- This lineal honour from me. This from thee
- Will I to mine leave as 'tis left to me. Exit
- KING. Warwick! Gloucester! Clarence!
-
- Re-enter WARWICK, GLOUCESTER, CLARENCE
-
- CLARENCE. Doth the King call?
- WARWICK. What would your Majesty? How fares your Grace?
- KING. Why did you leave me here alone, my lords?
- CLARENCE. We left the Prince my brother here, my liege,
- Who undertook to sit and watch by you.
- KING. The Prince of Wales! Where is he? Let me see him.
- He is not here.
- WARWICK. This door is open; he is gone this way.
- PRINCE HUMPHREY. He came not through the chamber where we stay'd.
- KING. Where is the crown? Who took it from my pillow?
- WARWICK. When we withdrew, my liege, we left it here.
- KING. The Prince hath ta'en it hence. Go, seek him out.
- Is he so hasty that he doth suppose
- My sleep my death?
- Find him, my lord of Warwick; chide him hither.
- Exit WARWICK
- This part of his conjoins with my disease
- And helps to end me. See, sons, what things you are!
- How quickly nature falls into revolt
- When gold becomes her object!
- For this the foolish over-careful fathers
- Have broke their sleep with thoughts,
- Their brains with care, their bones with industry;
- For this they have engrossed and pil'd up
- The cank'red heaps of strange-achieved gold;
- For this they have been thoughtful to invest
- Their sons with arts and martial exercises;
- When, like the bee, tolling from every flower
- The virtuous sweets,
- Our thighs with wax, our mouths with honey pack'd,
- We bring it to the hive, and, like the bees,
- Are murd'red for our pains. This bitter taste
- Yields his engrossments to the ending father.
-
- Re-enter WARWICK
-
- Now where is he that will not stay so long
- Till his friend sickness hath determin'd me?
- WARWICK. My lord, I found the Prince in the next room,
- Washing with kindly tears his gentle cheeks,
- With such a deep demeanour in great sorrow,
- That tyranny, which never quaff'd but blood,
- Would, by beholding him, have wash'd his knife
- With gentle eye-drops. He is coming hither.
- KING. But wherefore did he take away the crown?
-
- Re-enter PRINCE HENRY
-
- Lo where he comes. Come hither to me, Harry.
- Depart the chamber, leave us here alone.
- Exeunt all but the KING and the PRINCE
- PRINCE. I never thought to hear you speak again.
- KING. Thy wish was father, Harry, to that thought.
- I stay too long by thee, I weary thee.
- Dost thou so hunger for mine empty chair
- That thou wilt needs invest thee with my honours
- Before thy hour be ripe? O foolish youth!
- Thou seek'st the greatness that will overwhelm thee.
- Stay but a little, for my cloud of dignity
- Is held from falling with so weak a wind
- That it will quickly drop; my day is dim.
- Thou hast stol'n that which, after some few hours,
- Were thine without offense; and at my death
- Thou hast seal'd up my expectation.
- Thy life did manifest thou lov'dst me not,
- And thou wilt have me die assur'd of it.
- Thou hid'st a thousand daggers in thy thoughts,
- Which thou hast whetted on thy stony heart,
- To stab at half an hour of my life.
- What, canst thou not forbear me half an hour?
- Then get thee gone, and dig my grave thyself;
- And bid the merry bells ring to thine ear
- That thou art crowned, not that I am dead.
- Let all the tears that should bedew my hearse
- Be drops of balm to sanctify thy head;
- Only compound me with forgotten dust;
- Give that which gave thee life unto the worms.
- Pluck down my officers, break my decrees;
- For now a time is come to mock at form-
- Harry the Fifth is crown'd. Up, vanity:
- Down, royal state. All you sage counsellors, hence.
- And to the English court assemble now,
- From every region, apes of idleness.
- Now, neighbour confines, purge you of your scum.
- Have you a ruffian that will swear, drink, dance,
- Revel the night, rob, murder, and commit
- The oldest sins the newest kind of ways?
- Be happy, he will trouble you no more.
- England shall double gild his treble guilt;
- England shall give him office, honour, might;
- For the fifth Harry from curb'd license plucks
- The muzzle of restraint, and the wild dog
- Shall flesh his tooth on every innocent.
- O my poor kingdom, sick with civil blows!
- When that my care could not withhold thy riots,
- What wilt thou do when riot is thy care?
- O, thou wilt be a wilderness again.
- Peopled with wolves, thy old inhabitants!
- PRINCE. O, pardon me, my liege! But for my tears,
- The moist impediments unto my speech,
- I had forestall'd this dear and deep rebuke
- Ere you with grief had spoke and I had heard
- The course of it so far. There is your crown,
- And he that wears the crown immortally
- Long guard it yours! [Kneeling] If I affect it more
- Than as your honour and as your renown,
- Let me no more from this obedience rise,
- Which my most inward true and duteous spirit
- Teacheth this prostrate and exterior bending!
- God witness with me, when I here came in
- And found no course of breath within your Majesty,
- How cold it struck my heart! If I do feign,
- O, let me in my present wildness die,
- And never live to show th' incredulous world
- The noble change that I have purposed!
- Coming to look on you, thinking you dead-
- And dead almost, my liege, to think you were-
- I spake unto this crown as having sense,
- And thus upbraided it: 'The care on thee depending
- Hath fed upon the body of my father;
- Therefore thou best of gold art worst of gold.
- Other, less fine in carat, is more precious,
- Preserving life in med'cine potable;
- But thou, most fine, most honour'd, most renown'd,
- Hast eat thy bearer up.' Thus, my most royal liege,
- Accusing it, I put it on my head,
- To try with it- as with an enemy
- That had before my face murd'red my father-
- The quarrel of a true inheritor.
- But if it did infect my blood with joy,
- Or swell my thoughts to any strain of pride;
- If any rebel or vain spirit of mine
- Did with the least affection of a welcome
- Give entertainment to the might of it,
- Let God for ever keep it from my head,
- And make me as the poorest vassal is,
- That doth with awe and terror kneel to it!
- KING. O my son,
- God put it in thy mind to take it hence,
- That thou mightst win the more thy father's love,
- Pleading so wisely in excuse of it!
- Come hither, Harry; sit thou by my bed,
- And hear, I think, the very latest counsel
- That ever I shall breathe. God knows, my son,
- By what by-paths and indirect crook'd ways
- I met this crown; and I myself know well
- How troublesome it sat upon my head:
- To thee it shall descend with better quiet,
- Better opinion, better confirmation;
- For all the soil of the achievement goes
- With me into the earth. It seem'd in me
- But as an honour snatch'd with boist'rous hand;
- And I had many living to upbraid
- My gain of it by their assistances;
- Which daily grew to quarrel and to bloodshed,
- Wounding supposed peace. All these bold fears
- Thou seest with peril I have answered;
- For all my reign hath been but as a scene
- Acting that argument. And now my death
- Changes the mood; for what in me was purchas'd
- Falls upon thee in a more fairer sort;
- So thou the garland wear'st successively.
- Yet, though thou stand'st more sure than I could do,
- Thou art not firm enough, since griefs are green;
- And all my friends, which thou must make thy friends,
- Have but their stings and teeth newly ta'en out;
- By whose fell working I was first advanc'd,
- And by whose power I well might lodge a fear
- To be again displac'd; which to avoid,
- I cut them off; and had a purpose now
- To lead out many to the Holy Land,
- Lest rest and lying still might make them look
- Too near unto my state. Therefore, my Harry,
- Be it thy course to busy giddy minds
- With foreign quarrels, that action, hence borne out,
- May waste the memory of the former days.
- More would I, but my lungs are wasted so
- That strength of speech is utterly denied me.
- How I came by the crown, O God, forgive;
- And grant it may with thee in true peace live!
- PRINCE. My gracious liege,
- You won it, wore it, kept it, gave it me;
- Then plain and right must my possession be;
- Which I with more than with a common pain
- 'Gainst all the world will rightfully maintain.
-
- Enter PRINCE JOHN OF LANCASTER, WARWICK, LORDS, and others
-
- KING. Look, look, here comes my John of Lancaster.
- PRINCE JOHN. Health, peace, and happiness, to my royal father!
- KING. Thou bring'st me happiness and peace, son John;
- But health, alack, with youthful wings is flown
- From this bare wither'd trunk. Upon thy sight
- My worldly business makes a period.
- Where is my Lord of Warwick?
- PRINCE. My Lord of Warwick!
- KING. Doth any name particular belong
- Unto the lodging where I first did swoon?
- WARWICK. 'Tis call'd Jerusalem, my noble lord.
- KING. Laud be to God! Even there my life must end.
- It hath been prophesied to me many years,
- I should not die but in Jerusalem;
- Which vainly I suppos'd the Holy Land.
- But bear me to that chamber; there I'll lie;
- In that Jerusalem shall Harry die. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT V. SCENE I.
-Gloucestershire. SHALLOW'S house
-
-Enter SHALLOW, FALSTAFF, BARDOLPH, and PAGE
-
- SHALLOW. By cock and pie, sir, you shall not away to-night.
- What, Davy, I say!
- FALSTAFF. You must excuse me, Master Robert Shallow.
- SHALLOW. I will not excuse you; you shall not be excus'd; excuses
- shall not be admitted; there is no excuse shall serve; you shall
- not be excus'd. Why, Davy!
-
- Enter DAVY
-
- DAVY. Here, sir.
- SHALLOW. Davy, Davy, Davy, Davy; let me see, Davy; let me see,
- Davy; let me see- yea, marry, William cook, bid him come hither.
- Sir John, you shall not be excus'd.
- DAVY. Marry, sir, thus: those precepts cannot be served; and,
- again, sir- shall we sow the headland with wheat?
- SHALLOW. With red wheat, Davy. But for William cook- are there no
- young pigeons?
- DAVY. Yes, sir. Here is now the smith's note for shoeing and
- plough-irons.
- SHALLOW. Let it be cast, and paid. Sir John, you shall not be
- excused.
- DAVY. Now, sir, a new link to the bucket must needs be had; and,
- sir, do you mean to stop any of William's wages about the sack he
- lost the other day at Hinckley fair?
- SHALLOW. 'A shall answer it. Some pigeons, Davy, a couple of
- short-legg'd hens, a joint of mutton, and any pretty little tiny
- kickshaws, tell William cook.
- DAVY. Doth the man of war stay all night, sir?
- SHALLOW. Yea, Davy; I will use him well. A friend i' th' court is
- better than a penny in purse. Use his men well, Davy; for they
- are arrant knaves and will backbite.
- DAVY. No worse than they are backbitten, sir; for they have
- marvellous foul linen.
- SHALLOW. Well conceited, Davy- about thy business, Davy.
- DAVY. I beseech you, sir, to countenance William Visor of Woncot
- against Clement Perkes o' th' hill.
- SHALLOW. There, is many complaints, Davy, against that Visor. That
- Visor is an arrant knave, on my knowledge.
- DAVY. I grant your worship that he is a knave, sir; but yet God
- forbid, sir, but a knave should have some countenance at his
- friend's request. An honest man, sir, is able to speak for
- himself, when a knave is not. I have serv'd your worship truly,
- sir, this eight years; an I cannot once or twice in a quarter
- bear out a knave against an honest man, I have but a very little
- credit with your worship. The knave is mine honest friend, sir;
- therefore, I beseech you, let him be countenanc'd.
- SHALLOW. Go to; I say he shall have no wrong. Look about,
- DAVY. [Exit DAVY] Where are you, Sir John? Come, come, come, off
- with your boots. Give me your hand, Master Bardolph.
- BARDOLPH. I am glad to see your worship.
- SHALLOW. I thank thee with all my heart, kind Master Bardolph.
- [To the PAGE] And welcome, my tall fellow. Come, Sir John.
- FALSTAFF. I'll follow you, good Master Robert Shallow.
- [Exit SHALLOW] Bardolph, look to our horses. [Exeunt BARDOLPH
- and PAGE] If I were sawed into quantities, I should make four
- dozen of such bearded hermits' staves as Master Shallow. It is a
- wonderful thing to see the semblable coherence of his men's
- spirits and his. They, by observing of him, do bear themselves
- like foolish justices: he, by conversing with them, is turned
- into a justice-like serving-man. Their spirits are so married in
- conjunction with the participation of society that they flock
- together in consent, like so many wild geese. If I had a suit to
- Master Shallow, I would humour his men with the imputation of
- being near their master; if to his men, I would curry with Master
- Shallow that no man could better command his servants. It is
- certain that either wise bearing or ignorant carriage is caught,
- as men take diseases, one of another; therefore let men take heed
- of their company. I will devise matter enough out of this Shallow
- to keep Prince Harry in continual laughter the wearing out of six
- fashions, which is four terms, or two actions; and 'a shall laugh
- without intervallums. O, it is much that a lie with a slight
- oath, and a jest with a sad brow will do with a fellow that never
- had the ache in his shoulders! O, you shall see him laugh till
- his face be like a wet cloak ill laid up!
- SHALLOW. [Within] Sir John!
- FALSTAFF. I come, Master Shallow; I come, Master Shallow.
- Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-Westminster. The palace
-
-Enter, severally, WARWICK, and the LORD CHIEF JUSTICE
-
- WARWICK. How now, my Lord Chief Justice; whither away?
- CHIEF JUSTICE. How doth the King?
- WARWICK. Exceeding well; his cares are now all ended.
- CHIEF JUSTICE. I hope, not dead.
- WARWICK. He's walk'd the way of nature;
- And to our purposes he lives no more.
- CHIEF JUSTICE. I would his Majesty had call'd me with him.
- The service that I truly did his life
- Hath left me open to all injuries.
- WARWICK. Indeed, I think the young king loves you not.
- CHIEF JUSTICE. I know he doth not, and do arm myself
- To welcome the condition of the time,
- Which cannot look more hideously upon me
- Than I have drawn it in my fantasy.
-
- Enter LANCASTER, CLARENCE, GLOUCESTER,
- WESTMORELAND, and others
-
- WARWICK. Here comes the heavy issue of dead Harry.
- O that the living Harry had the temper
- Of he, the worst of these three gentlemen!
- How many nobles then should hold their places
- That must strike sail to spirits of vile sort!
- CHIEF JUSTICE. O God, I fear all will be overturn'd.
- PRINCE JOHN. Good morrow, cousin Warwick, good morrow.
- GLOUCESTER & CLARENCE. Good morrow, cousin.
- PRINCE JOHN. We meet like men that had forgot to speak.
- WARWICK. We do remember; but our argument
- Is all too heavy to admit much talk.
- PRINCE JOHN. Well, peace be with him that hath made us heavy!
- CHIEF JUSTICE. Peace be with us, lest we be heavier!
- PRINCE HUMPHREY. O, good my lord, you have lost a friend indeed;
- And I dare swear you borrow not that face
- Of seeming sorrow- it is sure your own.
- PRINCE JOHN. Though no man be assur'd what grace to find,
- You stand in coldest expectation.
- I am the sorrier; would 'twere otherwise.
- CLARENCE. Well, you must now speak Sir John Falstaff fair;
- Which swims against your stream of quality.
- CHIEF JUSTICE. Sweet Princes, what I did, I did in honour,
- Led by th' impartial conduct of my soul;
- And never shall you see that I will beg
- A ragged and forestall'd remission.
- If truth and upright innocency fail me,
- I'll to the King my master that is dead,
- And tell him who hath sent me after him.
- WARWICK. Here comes the Prince.
-
- Enter KING HENRY THE FIFTH, attended
-
- CHIEF JUSTICE. Good morrow, and God save your Majesty!
- KING. This new and gorgeous garment, majesty,
- Sits not so easy on me as you think.
- Brothers, you mix your sadness with some fear.
- This is the English, not the Turkish court;
- Not Amurath an Amurath succeeds,
- But Harry Harry. Yet be sad, good brothers,
- For, by my faith, it very well becomes you.
- Sorrow so royally in you appears
- That I will deeply put the fashion on,
- And wear it in my heart. Why, then, be sad;
- But entertain no more of it, good brothers,
- Than a joint burden laid upon us all.
- For me, by heaven, I bid you be assur'd,
- I'll be your father and your brother too;
- Let me but bear your love, I'll bear your cares.
- Yet weep that Harry's dead, and so will I;
- But Harry lives that shall convert those tears
- By number into hours of happiness.
- BROTHERS. We hope no otherwise from your Majesty.
- KING. You all look strangely on me; and you most.
- You are, I think, assur'd I love you not.
- CHIEF JUSTICE. I am assur'd, if I be measur'd rightly,
- Your Majesty hath no just cause to hate me.
- KING. No?
- How might a prince of my great hopes forget
- So great indignities you laid upon me?
- What, rate, rebuke, and roughly send to prison,
- Th' immediate heir of England! Was this easy?
- May this be wash'd in Lethe and forgotten?
- CHIEF JUSTICE. I then did use the person of your father;
- The image of his power lay then in me;
- And in th' administration of his law,
- Whiles I was busy for the commonwealth,
- Your Highness pleased to forget my place,
- The majesty and power of law and justice,
- The image of the King whom I presented,
- And struck me in my very seat of judgment;
- Whereon, as an offender to your father,
- I gave bold way to my authority
- And did commit you. If the deed were ill,
- Be you contented, wearing now the garland,
- To have a son set your decrees at nought,
- To pluck down justice from your awful bench,
- To trip the course of law, and blunt the sword
- That guards the peace and safety of your person;
- Nay, more, to spurn at your most royal image,
- And mock your workings in a second body.
- Question your royal thoughts, make the case yours;
- Be now the father, and propose a son;
- Hear your own dignity so much profan'd,
- See your most dreadful laws so loosely slighted,
- Behold yourself so by a son disdain'd;
- And then imagine me taking your part
- And, in your power, soft silencing your son.
- After this cold considerance, sentence me;
- And, as you are a king, speak in your state
- What I have done that misbecame my place,
- My person, or my liege's sovereignty.
- KING. You are right, Justice, and you weigh this well;
- Therefore still bear the balance and the sword;
- And I do wish your honours may increase
- Till you do live to see a son of mine
- Offend you, and obey you, as I did.
- So shall I live to speak my father's words:
- 'Happy am I that have a man so bold
- That dares do justice on my proper son;
- And not less happy, having such a son
- That would deliver up his greatness so
- Into the hands of justice.' You did commit me;
- For which I do commit into your hand
- Th' unstained sword that you have us'd to bear;
- With this remembrance- that you use the same
- With the like bold, just, and impartial spirit
- As you have done 'gainst me. There is my hand.
- You shall be as a father to my youth;
- My voice shall sound as you do prompt mine ear;
- And I will stoop and humble my intents
- To your well-practis'd wise directions.
- And, Princes all, believe me, I beseech you,
- My father is gone wild into his grave,
- For in his tomb lie my affections;
- And with his spirits sadly I survive,
- To mock the expectation of the world,
- To frustrate prophecies, and to raze out
- Rotten opinion, who hath writ me down
- After my seeming. The tide of blood in me
- Hath proudly flow'd in vanity till now.
- Now doth it turn and ebb back to the sea,
- Where it shall mingle with the state of floods,
- And flow henceforth in formal majesty.
- Now call we our high court of parliament;
- And let us choose such limbs of noble counsel,
- That the great body of our state may go
- In equal rank with the best govern'd nation;
- That war, or peace, or both at once, may be
- As things acquainted and familiar to us;
- In which you, father, shall have foremost hand.
- Our coronation done, we will accite,
- As I before rememb'red, all our state;
- And- God consigning to my good intents-
- No prince nor peer shall have just cause to say,
- God shorten Harry's happy life one day. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-Gloucestershire. SHALLOW'S orchard
-
-Enter FALSTAFF, SHALLOW, SILENCE, BARDOLPH, the PAGE, and DAVY
-
- SHALLOW. Nay, you shall see my orchard, where, in an arbour, we
- will eat a last year's pippin of mine own graffing, with a dish
- of caraways, and so forth. Come, cousin Silence. And then to bed.
- FALSTAFF. Fore God, you have here a goodly dwelling and rich.
- SHALLOW. Barren, barren, barren; beggars all, beggars all, Sir John
- -marry, good air. Spread, Davy, spread, Davy; well said, Davy.
- FALSTAFF. This Davy serves you for good uses; he is your
- serving-man and your husband.
- SHALLOW. A good varlet, a good varlet, a very good varlet, Sir
- John. By the mass, I have drunk too much sack at supper. A good
- varlet. Now sit down, now sit down; come, cousin.
- SILENCE. Ah, sirrah! quoth-a- we shall [Singing]
-
- Do nothing but eat and make good cheer,
- And praise God for the merry year;
- When flesh is cheap and females dear,
- And lusty lads roam here and there,
- So merrily,
- And ever among so merrily.
-
- FALSTAFF. There's a merry heart! Good Master Silence, I'll give you
- a health for that anon.
- SHALLOW. Give Master Bardolph some wine, Davy.
- DAVY. Sweet sir, sit; I'll be with you anon; most sweet sir, sit.
- Master Page, good Master Page, sit. Proface! What you want in
- meat, we'll have in drink. But you must bear; the heart's all.
- Exit
- SHALLOW. Be merry, Master Bardolph; and, my little soldier there,
- be merry.
- SILENCE. [Singing]
-
- Be merry, be merry, my wife has all;
- For women are shrews, both short and tall;
- 'Tis merry in hall when beards wag an;
- And welcome merry Shrove-tide.
- Be merry, be merry.
-
- FALSTAFF. I did not think Master Silence had been a man of this
- mettle.
- SILENCE. Who, I? I have been merry twice and once ere now.
-
- Re-enter DAVY
-
- DAVY. [To BARDOLPH] There's a dish of leather-coats for you.
- SHALLOW. Davy!
- DAVY. Your worship! I'll be with you straight. [To BARDOLPH]
- A cup of wine, sir?
- SILENCE. [Singing]
-
- A cup of wine that's brisk and fine,
- And drink unto the leman mine;
- And a merry heart lives long-a.
-
- FALSTAFF. Well said, Master Silence.
- SILENCE. An we shall be merry, now comes in the sweet o' th' night.
- FALSTAFF. Health and long life to you, Master Silence!
- SILENCE. [Singing]
-
- Fill the cup, and let it come,
- I'll pledge you a mile to th' bottom.
-
- SHALLOW. Honest Bardolph, welcome; if thou want'st anything and
- wilt not call, beshrew thy heart. Welcome, my little tiny thief
- and welcome indeed too. I'll drink to Master Bardolph, and to all
- the cabileros about London.
- DAVY. I hope to see London once ere I die.
- BARDOLPH. An I might see you there, Davy!
- SHALLOW. By the mass, you'R crack a quart together- ha! will you
- not, Master Bardolph?
- BARDOLPH. Yea, sir, in a pottle-pot.
- SHALLOW. By God's liggens, I thank thee. The knave will stick by
- thee, I can assure thee that. 'A will not out, 'a; 'tis true
- bred.
- BARDOLPH. And I'll stick by him, sir.
- SHALLOW. Why, there spoke a king. Lack nothing; be merry.
- [One knocks at door] Look who's at door there, ho! Who knocks?
- Exit DAVY
- FALSTAFF. [To SILENCE, who has drunk a bumper] Why, now you have
- done me right.
- SILENCE. [Singing]
-
- Do me right,
- And dub me knight.
- Samingo.
-
- Is't not so?
- FALSTAFF. 'Tis so.
- SILENCE. Is't so? Why then, say an old man can do somewhat.
-
- Re-enter DAVY
-
- DAVY. An't please your worship, there's one Pistol come from the
- court with news.
- FALSTAFF. From the court? Let him come in.
-
- Enter PISTOL
-
- How now, Pistol?
- PISTOL. Sir John, God save you!
- FALSTAFF. What wind blew you hither, Pistol?
- PISTOL. Not the ill wind which blows no man to good. Sweet knight,
- thou art now one of the greatest men in this realm.
- SILENCE. By'r lady, I think 'a be, but goodman Puff of Barson.
- PISTOL. Puff!
- Puff in thy teeth, most recreant coward base!
- Sir John, I am thy Pistol and thy friend,
- And helter-skelter have I rode to thee;
- And tidings do I bring, and lucky joys,
- And golden times, and happy news of price.
- FALSTAFF. I pray thee now, deliver them like a man of this world.
- PISTOL. A foutra for the world and worldlings base!
- I speak of Africa and golden joys.
- FALSTAFF. O base Assyrian knight, what is thy news?
- Let King Cophetua know the truth thereof.
- SILENCE. [Singing] And Robin Hood, Scarlet, and John.
- PISTOL. Shall dunghill curs confront the Helicons?
- And shall good news be baffled?
- Then, Pistol, lay thy head in Furies' lap.
- SHALLOW. Honest gentleman, I know not your breeding.
- PISTOL. Why, then, lament therefore.
- SHALLOW. Give me pardon, sir. If, sir, you come with news from the
- court, I take it there's but two ways- either to utter them or
- conceal them. I am, sir, under the King, in some authority.
- PISTOL. Under which king, Bezonian? Speak, or die.
- SHALLOW. Under King Harry.
- PISTOL. Harry the Fourth- or Fifth?
- SHALLOW. Harry the Fourth.
- PISTOL. A foutra for thine office!
- Sir John, thy tender lambkin now is King;
- Harry the Fifth's the man. I speak the truth.
- When Pistol lies, do this; and fig me, like
- The bragging Spaniard.
- FALSTAFF. What, is the old king dead?
- PISTOL. As nail in door. The things I speak are just.
- FALSTAFF. Away, Bardolph! saddle my horse. Master Robert Shallow,
- choose what office thou wilt in the land, 'tis thine. Pistol, I
- will double-charge thee with dignities.
- BARDOLPH. O joyful day!
- I would not take a knighthood for my fortune.
- PISTOL. What, I do bring good news?
- FALSTAFF. Carry Master Silence to bed. Master Shallow, my Lord
- Shallow, be what thou wilt- I am Fortune's steward. Get on thy
- boots; we'll ride all night. O sweet Pistol! Away, Bardolph!
- [Exit BARDOLPH] Come, Pistol, utter more to me; and withal
- devise something to do thyself good. Boot, boot, Master Shallow!
- I know the young King is sick for me. Let us take any man's
- horses: the laws of England are at my commandment. Blessed are
- they that have been my friends; and woe to my Lord Chief Justice!
- PISTOL. Let vultures vile seize on his lungs also!
- 'Where is the life that late I led?' say they.
- Why, here it is; welcome these pleasant days! Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE IV.
-London. A street
-
-Enter BEADLES, dragging in HOSTESS QUICKLY and DOLL TEARSHEET
-
- HOSTESS. No, thou arrant knave; I would to God that I might die,
- that I might have thee hang'd. Thou hast drawn my shoulder out of
- joint.
- FIRST BEADLE. The constables have delivered her over to me; and she
- shall have whipping-cheer enough, I warrant her. There hath been
- a man or two lately kill'd about her.
- DOLL. Nut-hook, nut-hook, you lie. Come on; I'll tell thee what,
- thou damn'd tripe-visag'd rascal, an the child I now go with do
- miscarry, thou wert better thou hadst struck thy mother, thou
- paper-fac'd villain.
- HOSTESS. O the Lord, that Sir John were come! He would make this a
- bloody day to somebody. But I pray God the fruit of her womb
- miscarry!
- FIRST BEADLE. If it do, you shall have a dozen of cushions again;
- you have but eleven now. Come, I charge you both go with me; for
- the man is dead that you and Pistol beat amongst you.
- DOLL. I'll tell you what, you thin man in a censer, I will have you
- as soundly swing'd for this- you blue-bottle rogue, you filthy
- famish'd correctioner, if you be not swing'd, I'll forswear
- half-kirtles.
- FIRST BEADLE. Come, come, you she knight-errant, come.
- HOSTESS. O God, that right should thus overcome might!
- Well, of sufferance comes ease.
- DOLL. Come, you rogue, come; bring me to a justice.
- HOSTESS. Ay, come, you starv'd bloodhound.
- DOLL. Goodman death, goodman bones!
- HOSTESS. Thou atomy, thou!
- DOLL. Come, you thin thing! come, you rascal!
- FIRST BEADLE. Very well. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE V.
-Westminster. Near the Abbey
-
-Enter GROOMS, strewing rushes
-
- FIRST GROOM. More rushes, more rushes!
- SECOND GROOM. The trumpets have sounded twice.
- THIRD GROOM. 'Twill be two o'clock ere they come from the
- coronation. Dispatch, dispatch. Exeunt
-
- Trumpets sound, and the KING and his train pass
- over the stage. After them enter FALSTAFF, SHALLOW,
- PISTOL, BARDOLPH, and page
-
- FALSTAFF. Stand here by me, Master Robert Shallow; I will make the
- King do you grace. I will leer upon him, as 'a comes by; and do
- but mark the countenance that he will give me.
- PISTOL. God bless thy lungs, good knight!
- FALSTAFF. Come here, Pistol; stand behind me. [To SHALLOW] O, if
- I had had to have made new liveries, I would have bestowed the
- thousand pound I borrowed of you. But 'tis no matter; this poor
- show doth better; this doth infer the zeal I had to see him.
- SHALLOW. It doth so.
- FALSTAFF. It shows my earnestness of affection-
- SHALLOW. It doth so.
- FALSTAFF. My devotion-
- SHALLOW. It doth, it doth, it doth.
- FALSTAFF. As it were, to ride day and night; and not to deliberate,
- not to remember, not to have patience to shift me-
- SHALLOW. It is best, certain.
- FALSTAFF. But to stand stained with travel, and sweating with
- desire to see him; thinking of nothing else, putting all affairs
- else in oblivion, as if there were nothing else to be done but to
- see him.
- PISTOL. 'Tis 'semper idem' for 'obsque hoc nihil est.' 'Tis all in
- every part.
- SHALLOW. 'Tis so, indeed.
- PISTOL. My knight, I will inflame thy noble liver
- And make thee rage.
- Thy Doll, and Helen of thy noble thoughts,
- Is in base durance and contagious prison;
- Hal'd thither
- By most mechanical and dirty hand.
- Rouse up revenge from ebon den with fell Alecto's snake,
- For Doll is in. Pistol speaks nought but truth.
- FALSTAFF. I will deliver her.
- [Shouts,within, and the trumpets sound]
- PISTOL. There roar'd the sea, and trumpet-clangor sounds.
-
- Enter the KING and his train, the LORD CHIEF JUSTICE
- among them
-
- FALSTAFF. God save thy Grace, King Hal; my royal Hal!
- PISTOL. The heavens thee guard and keep, most royal imp of fame!
- FALSTAFF. God save thee, my sweet boy!
- KING. My Lord Chief Justice, speak to that vain man.
- CHIEF JUSTICE. Have you your wits? Know you what 'tis you speak?
- FALSTAFF. My king! my Jove! I speak to thee, my heart!
- KING. I know thee not, old man. Fall to thy prayers.
- How ill white hairs become a fool and jester!
- I have long dreamt of such a kind of man,
- So surfeit-swell'd, so old, and so profane;
- But being awak'd, I do despise my dream.
- Make less thy body hence, and more thy grace;
- Leave gormandizing; know the grave doth gape
- For thee thrice wider than for other men-
- Reply not to me with a fool-born jest;
- Presume not that I am the thing I was,
- For God doth know, so shall the world perceive,
- That I have turn'd away my former self;
- So will I those that kept me company.
- When thou dost hear I am as I have been,
- Approach me, and thou shalt be as thou wast,
- The tutor and the feeder of my riots.
- Till then I banish thee, on pain of death,
- As I have done the rest of my misleaders,
- Not to come near our person by ten mile.
- For competence of life I will allow you,
- That lack of means enforce you not to evils;
- And, as we hear you do reform yourselves,
- We will, according to your strengths and qualities,
- Give you advancement. Be it your charge, my lord,
- To see perform'd the tenour of our word.
- Set on. Exeunt the KING and his train
- FALSTAFF. Master Shallow, I owe you a thousand pounds.
- SHALLOW. Yea, marry, Sir John; which I beseech you to let me have
- home with me.
- FALSTAFF. That can hardly be, Master Shallow. Do not you grieve at
- this; I shall be sent for in private to him. Look you, he must
- seem thus to the world. Fear not your advancements; I will be the
- man yet that shall make you great.
- SHALLOW. I cannot perceive how, unless you give me your doublet,
- and stuff me out with straw. I beseech you, good Sir John, let me
- have five hundred of my thousand.
- FALSTAFF. Sir, I will be as good as my word. This that you heard
- was but a colour.
- SHALLOW. A colour that I fear you will die in, Sir John.
- FALSTAFF. Fear no colours; go with me to dinner. Come, Lieutenant
- Pistol; come, Bardolph. I shall be sent for soon at night.
-
- Re-enter PRINCE JOHN, the LORD CHIEF JUSTICE,
- with officers
-
- CHIEF JUSTICE. Go, carry Sir John Falstaff to the Fleet;
- Take all his company along with him.
- FALSTAFF. My lord, my lord-
- CHIEF JUSTICE. I cannot now speak. I will hear you soon.
- Take them away.
- PISTOL. Si fortuna me tormenta, spero me contenta.
- Exeunt all but PRINCE JOHN and the LORD CHIEF JUSTICE
- PRINCE JOHN. I like this fair proceeding of the King's.
- He hath intent his wonted followers
- Shall all be very well provided for;
- But all are banish'd till their conversations
- Appear more wise and modest to the world.
- CHIEF JUSTICE. And so they are.
- PRINCE JOHN. The King hath call'd his parliament, my lord.
- CHIEF JUSTICE. He hath.
- PRINCE JOHN. I will lay odds that, ere this year expire,
- We bear our civil swords and native fire
- As far as France. I heard a bird so sing,
- Whose music, to my thinking, pleas'd the King.
- Come, will you hence? Exeunt
-
-EPILOGUE
- EPILOGUE.
-
- First my fear, then my curtsy, last my speech. My fear, is your
-displeasure; my curtsy, my duty; and my speech, to beg your pardons.
-If you look for a good speech now, you undo me; for what I have to say
-is of mine own making; and what, indeed, I should say will, I doubt,
-prove mine own marring. But to the purpose, and so to the venture.
-Be it known to you, as it is very well, I was lately here in the end
-of a displeasing play, to pray your patience for it and to promise you
-a better. I meant, indeed, to pay you with this; which if like an
-ill venture it come unluckily home, I break, and you, my gentle
-creditors, lose. Here I promis'd you I would be, and here I commit
-my body to your mercies. Bate me some, and I will pay you some, and,
-as most debtors do, promise you infinitely; and so I kneel down before
-you- but, indeed, to pray for the Queen.
- If my tongue cannot entreat you to acquit me, will you command me to
-use my legs? And yet that were but light payment-to dance out of
-your debt. But a good conscience will make any possible
-satisfaction, and so would I. All the gentlewomen here have forgiven
-me. If the gentlemen will not, then the gentlemen do not agree with
-the gentlewomen, which was never seen before in such an assembly.
- One word more, I beseech you. If you be not too much cloy'd with fat
-meat, our humble author will continue the story, with Sir John in
-it, and make you merry with fair Katherine of France; where, for
-anything I know, Falstaff shall die of a sweat, unless already 'a be
-killed with your hard opinions; for Oldcastle died a martyr and this
-is not the man. My tongue is weary; when my legs are too, I will bid
-you good night.
-
-
-THE END
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-
-
-1599
-
-THE LIFE OF KING HENRY THE FIFTH
-
-by William Shakespeare
-
-
-
-DRAMATIS PERSONAE
-
- CHORUS
- KING HENRY THE FIFTH
- DUKE OF GLOUCESTER, brother to the King
- DUKE OF BEDFORD, " " " "
- DUKE OF EXETER, Uncle to the King
- DUKE OF YORK, cousin to the King
- EARL OF SALISBURY
- EARL OF WESTMORELAND
- EARL OF WARWICK
- ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY
- BISHOP OF ELY
-
- EARL OF CAMBRIDGE, conspirator against the King
- LORD SCROOP, " " " "
- SIR THOMAS GREY, " " " "
- SIR THOMAS ERPINGHAM, officer in the King's army
- GOWER, " " " " "
- FLUELLEN, " " " " "
- MACMORRIS, " " " " "
- JAMY, " " " " "
-
- BATES, soldier in the King's army
- COURT, " " " " "
- WILLIAMS, " " " " "
- NYM, " " " " "
- BARDOLPH, " " " " "
- PISTOL, " " " " "
-
- BOY A HERALD
-
- CHARLES THE SIXTH, King of France
- LEWIS, the Dauphin DUKE OF BURGUNDY
- DUKE OF ORLEANS DUKE OF BRITAINE
- DUKE OF BOURBON THE CONSTABLE OF FRANCE
- RAMBURES, French Lord
- GRANDPRE, " "
- GOVERNOR OF HARFLEUR MONTJOY, a French herald
- AMBASSADORS to the King of England
-
- ISABEL, Queen of France
- KATHERINE, daughter to Charles and Isabel
- ALICE, a lady attending her
- HOSTESS of the Boar's Head, Eastcheap; formerly Mrs. Quickly, now
- married to Pistol
-
- Lords, Ladies, Officers, Soldiers, Messengers, Attendants
-
-
- SCENE:
- England and France
-
-PROLOGUE
- PROLOGUE.
-
- Enter CHORUS
-
- CHORUS. O for a Muse of fire, that would ascend
- The brightest heaven of invention,
- A kingdom for a stage, princes to act,
- And monarchs to behold the swelling scene!
- Then should the warlike Harry, like himself,
- Assume the port of Mars; and at his heels,
- Leash'd in like hounds, should famine, sword, and fire,
- Crouch for employment. But pardon, gentles all,
- The flat unraised spirits that hath dar'd
- On this unworthy scaffold to bring forth
- So great an object. Can this cockpit hold
- The vasty fields of France? Or may we cram
- Within this wooden O the very casques
- That did affright the air at Agincourt?
- O, pardon! since a crooked figure may
- Attest in little place a million;
- And let us, ciphers to this great accompt,
- On your imaginary forces work.
- Suppose within the girdle of these walls
- Are now confin'd two mighty monarchies,
- Whose high upreared and abutting fronts
- The perilous narrow ocean parts asunder.
- Piece out our imperfections with your thoughts:
- Into a thousand parts divide one man,
- And make imaginary puissance;
- Think, when we talk of horses, that you see them
- Printing their proud hoofs i' th' receiving earth;
- For 'tis your thoughts that now must deck our kings,
- Carry them here and there, jumping o'er times,
- Turning th' accomplishment of many years
- Into an hour-glass; for the which supply,
- Admit me Chorus to this history;
- Who prologue-like, your humble patience pray
- Gently to hear, kindly to judge, our play. Exit
-
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-ACT I. SCENE I.
-London. An ante-chamber in the KING'S palace
-
-Enter the ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY and the BISHOP OF ELY
-
- CANTERBURY. My lord, I'll tell you: that self bill is urg'd
- Which in th' eleventh year of the last king's reign
- Was like, and had indeed against us pass'd
- But that the scambling and unquiet time
- Did push it out of farther question.
- ELY. But how, my lord, shall we resist it now?
- CANTERBURY. It must be thought on. If it pass against us,
- We lose the better half of our possession;
- For all the temporal lands which men devout
- By testament have given to the church
- Would they strip from us; being valu'd thus-
- As much as would maintain, to the King's honour,
- Full fifteen earls and fifteen hundred knights,
- Six thousand and two hundred good esquires;
- And, to relief of lazars and weak age,
- Of indigent faint souls, past corporal toil,
- A hundred alms-houses right well supplied;
- And to the coffers of the King, beside,
- A thousand pounds by th' year: thus runs the bill.
- ELY. This would drink deep.
- CANTERBURY. 'T would drink the cup and all.
- ELY. But what prevention?
- CANTERBURY. The King is full of grace and fair regard.
- ELY. And a true lover of the holy Church.
- CANTERBURY. The courses of his youth promis'd it not.
- The breath no sooner left his father's body
- But that his wildness, mortified in him,
- Seem'd to die too; yea, at that very moment,
- Consideration like an angel came
- And whipp'd th' offending Adam out of him,
- Leaving his body as a paradise
- T'envelop and contain celestial spirits.
- Never was such a sudden scholar made;
- Never came reformation in a flood,
- With such a heady currance, scouring faults;
- Nor never Hydra-headed wilfulnes
- So soon did lose his seat, and all at once,
- As in this king.
- ELY. We are blessed in the change.
- CANTERBURY. Hear him but reason in divinity,
- And, all-admiring, with an inward wish
- You would desire the King were made a prelate;
- Hear him debate of commonwealth affairs,
- You would say it hath been all in all his study;
- List his discourse of war, and you shall hear
- A fearful battle rend'red you in music.
- Turn him to any cause of policy,
- The Gordian knot of it he will unloose,
- Familiar as his garter; that, when he speaks,
- The air, a charter'd libertine, is still,
- And the mute wonder lurketh in men's ears
- To steal his sweet and honey'd sentences;
- So that the art and practic part of life
- Must be the mistress to this theoric;
- Which is a wonder how his Grace should glean it,
- Since his addiction was to courses vain,
- His companies unletter'd, rude, and shallow,
- His hours fill'd up with riots, banquets, sports;
- And never noted in him any study,
- Any retirement, any sequestration
- From open haunts and popularity.
- ELY. The strawberry grows underneath the nettle,
- And wholesome berries thrive and ripen best
- Neighbour'd by fruit of baser quality;
- And so the Prince obscur'd his contemplation
- Under the veil of wildness; which, no doubt,
- Grew like the summer grass, fastest by night,
- Unseen, yet crescive in his faculty.
- CANTERBURY. It must be so; for miracles are ceas'd;
- And therefore we must needs admit the means
- How things are perfected.
- ELY. But, my good lord,
- How now for mitigation of this bill
- Urg'd by the Commons? Doth his Majesty
- Incline to it, or no?
- CANTERBURY. He seems indifferent
- Or rather swaying more upon our part
- Than cherishing th' exhibiters against us;
- For I have made an offer to his Majesty-
- Upon our spiritual convocation
- And in regard of causes now in hand,
- Which I have open'd to his Grace at large,
- As touching France- to give a greater sum
- Than ever at one time the clergy yet
- Did to his predecessors part withal.
- ELY. How did this offer seem receiv'd, my lord?
- CANTERBURY. With good acceptance of his Majesty;
- Save that there was not time enough to hear,
- As I perceiv'd his Grace would fain have done,
- The severals and unhidden passages
- Of his true tides to some certain dukedoms,
- And generally to the crown and seat of France,
- Deriv'd from Edward, his great-grandfather.
- ELY. What was th' impediment that broke this off?
- CANTERBURY. The French ambassador upon that instant
- Crav'd audience; and the hour, I think, is come
- To give him hearing: is it four o'clock?
- ELY. It is.
- CANTERBURY. Then go we in, to know his embassy;
- Which I could with a ready guess declare,
- Before the Frenchman speak a word of it.
- ELY. I'll wait upon you, and I long to hear it. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-London. The Presence Chamber in the KING'S palace
-
-Enter the KING, GLOUCESTER, BEDFORD, EXETER, WARWICK, WESTMORELAND,
-and attendants
-
- KING HENRY. Where is my gracious Lord of Canterbury?
- EXETER. Not here in presence.
- KING HENRY. Send for him, good uncle.
- WESTMORELAND. Shall we call in th' ambassador, my liege?
- KING HENRY. Not yet, my cousin; we would be resolv'd,
- Before we hear him, of some things of weight
- That task our thoughts, concerning us and France.
-
- Enter the ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY and
- the BISHOP OF ELY
-
- CANTERBURY. God and his angels guard your sacred throne,
- And make you long become it!
- KING HENRY. Sure, we thank you.
- My learned lord, we pray you to proceed,
- And justly and religiously unfold
- Why the law Salique, that they have in France,
- Or should or should not bar us in our claim;
- And God forbid, my dear and faithful lord,
- That you should fashion, wrest, or bow your reading,
- Or nicely charge your understanding soul
- With opening titles miscreate whose right
- Suits not in native colours with the truth;
- For God doth know how many, now in health,
- Shall drop their blood in approbation
- Of what your reverence shall incite us to.
- Therefore take heed how you impawn our person,
- How you awake our sleeping sword of war-
- We charge you, in the name of God, take heed;
- For never two such kingdoms did contend
- Without much fall of blood; whose guiltless drops
- Are every one a woe, a sore complaint,
- 'Gainst him whose wrongs gives edge unto the swords
- That makes such waste in brief mortality.
- Under this conjuration speak, my lord;
- For we will hear, note, and believe in heart,
- That what you speak is in your conscience wash'd
- As pure as sin with baptism.
- CANTERBURY. Then hear me, gracious sovereign, and you peers,
- That owe yourselves, your lives, and services,
- To this imperial throne. There is no bar
- To make against your Highness' claim to France
- But this, which they produce from Pharamond:
- 'In terram Salicam mulieres ne succedant'-
- 'No woman shall succeed in Salique land';
- Which Salique land the French unjustly gloze
- To be the realm of France, and Pharamond
- The founder of this law and female bar.
- Yet their own authors faithfully affirm
- That the land Salique is in Germany,
- Between the floods of Sala and of Elbe;
- Where Charles the Great, having subdu'd the Saxons,
- There left behind and settled certain French;
- Who, holding in disdain the German women
- For some dishonest manners of their life,
- Establish'd then this law: to wit, no female
- Should be inheritrix in Salique land;
- Which Salique, as I said, 'twixt Elbe and Sala,
- Is at this day in Germany call'd Meisen.
- Then doth it well appear the Salique law
- Was not devised for the realm of France;
- Nor did the French possess the Salique land
- Until four hundred one and twenty years
- After defunction of King Pharamond,
- Idly suppos'd the founder of this law;
- Who died within the year of our redemption
- Four hundred twenty-six; and Charles the Great
- Subdu'd the Saxons, and did seat the French
- Beyond the river Sala, in the year
- Eight hundred five. Besides, their writers say,
- King Pepin, which deposed Childeric,
- Did, as heir general, being descended
- Of Blithild, which was daughter to King Clothair,
- Make claim and title to the crown of France.
- Hugh Capet also, who usurp'd the crown
- Of Charles the Duke of Lorraine, sole heir male
- Of the true line and stock of Charles the Great,
- To find his title with some shows of truth-
- Though in pure truth it was corrupt and naught-
- Convey'd himself as th' heir to th' Lady Lingare,
- Daughter to Charlemain, who was the son
- To Lewis the Emperor, and Lewis the son
- Of Charles the Great. Also King Lewis the Tenth,
- Who was sole heir to the usurper Capet,
- Could not keep quiet in his conscience,
- Wearing the crown of France, till satisfied
- That fair Queen Isabel, his grandmother,
- Was lineal of the Lady Ermengare,
- Daughter to Charles the foresaid Duke of Lorraine;
- By the which marriage the line of Charles the Great
- Was re-united to the Crown of France.
- So that, as clear as is the summer's sun,
- King Pepin's title, and Hugh Capet's claim,
- King Lewis his satisfaction, all appear
- To hold in right and tide of the female;
- So do the kings of France unto this day,
- Howbeit they would hold up this Salique law
- To bar your Highness claiming from the female;
- And rather choose to hide them in a net
- Than amply to imbar their crooked tides
- Usurp'd from you and your progenitors.
- KING HENRY. May I with right and conscience make this claim?
- CANTERBURY. The sin upon my head, dread sovereign!
- For in the book of Numbers is it writ,
- When the man dies, let the inheritance
- Descend unto the daughter. Gracious lord,
- Stand for your own, unwind your bloody flag,
- Look back into your mighty ancestors.
- Go, my dread lord, to your great-grandsire's tomb,
- From whom you claim; invoke his warlike spirit,
- And your great-uncle's, Edward the Black Prince,
- Who on the French ground play'd a tragedy,
- Making defeat on the fun power of France,
- Whiles his most mighty father on a hill
- Stood smiling to behold his lion's whelp
- Forage in blood of French nobility.
- O noble English, that could entertain
- With half their forces the full pride of France,
- And let another half stand laughing by,
- All out of work and cold for action!
- ELY. Awake remembrance of these valiant dead,
- And with your puissant arm renew their feats.
- You are their heir; you sit upon their throne;
- The blood and courage that renowned them
- Runs in your veins; and my thrice-puissant liege
- Is in the very May-morn of his youth,
- Ripe for exploits and mighty enterprises.
- EXETER. Your brother kings and monarchs of the earth
- Do all expect that you should rouse yourself,
- As did the former lions of your blood.
- WESTMORELAND. They know your Grace hath cause and means and might-
- So hath your Highness; never King of England
- Had nobles richer and more loyal subjects,
- Whose hearts have left their bodies here in England
- And lie pavilion'd in the fields of France.
- CANTERBURY. O, let their bodies follow, my dear liege,
- With blood and sword and fire to win your right!
- In aid whereof we of the spiritualty
- Will raise your Highness such a mighty sum
- As never did the clergy at one time
- Bring in to any of your ancestors.
- KING HENRY. We must not only arm t' invade the French,
- But lay down our proportions to defend
- Against the Scot, who will make road upon us
- With all advantages.
- CANTERBURY. They of those marches, gracious sovereign,
- Shall be a wall sufficient to defend
- Our inland from the pilfering borderers.
- KING HENRY. We do not mean the coursing snatchers only,
- But fear the main intendment of the Scot,
- Who hath been still a giddy neighbour to us;
- For you shall read that my great-grandfather
- Never went with his forces into France
- But that the Scot on his unfurnish'd kingdom
- Came pouring, like the tide into a breach,
- With ample and brim fulness of his force,
- Galling the gleaned land with hot assays,
- Girdling with grievous siege castles and towns;
- That England, being empty of defence,
- Hath shook and trembled at th' ill neighbourhood.
- CANTERBURY. She hath been then more fear'd than harm'd, my liege;
- For hear her but exampled by herself:
- When all her chivalry hath been in France,
- And she a mourning widow of her nobles,
- She hath herself not only well defended
- But taken and impounded as a stray
- The King of Scots; whom she did send to France,
- To fill King Edward's fame with prisoner kings,
- And make her chronicle as rich with praise
- As is the ooze and bottom of the sea
- With sunken wreck and sumless treasuries.
- WESTMORELAND. But there's a saying, very old and true:
-
- 'If that you will France win,
- Then with Scotland first begin.'
-
- For once the eagle England being in prey,
- To her unguarded nest the weasel Scot
- Comes sneaking, and so sucks her princely eggs,
- Playing the mouse in absence of the cat,
- To tear and havoc more than she can eat.
- EXETER. It follows, then, the cat must stay at home;
- Yet that is but a crush'd necessity,
- Since we have locks to safeguard necessaries
- And pretty traps to catch the petty thieves.
- While that the armed hand doth fight abroad,
- Th' advised head defends itself at home;
- For government, though high, and low, and lower,
- Put into parts, doth keep in one consent,
- Congreeing in a full and natural close,
- Like music.
- CANTERBURY. Therefore doth heaven divide
- The state of man in divers functions,
- Setting endeavour in continual motion;
- To which is fixed as an aim or but
- Obedience; for so work the honey bees,
- Creatures that by a rule in nature teach
- The act of order to a peopled kingdom.
- They have a king, and officers of sorts,
- Where some like magistrates correct at home;
- Others like merchants venture trade abroad;
- Others like soldiers, armed in their stings,
- Make boot upon the summer's velvet buds,
- Which pillage they with merry march bring home
- To the tent-royal of their emperor;
- Who, busied in his majesty, surveys
- The singing masons building roofs of gold,
- The civil citizens kneading up the honey,
- The poor mechanic porters crowding in
- Their heavy burdens at his narrow gate,
- The sad-ey'd justice, with his surly hum,
- Delivering o'er to executors pale
- The lazy yawning drone. I this infer,
- That many things, having full reference
- To one consent, may work contrariously;
- As many arrows loosed several ways
- Come to one mark, as many ways meet in one town,
- As many fresh streams meet in one salt sea,
- As many lines close in the dial's centre;
- So many a thousand actions, once afoot,
- End in one purpose, and be all well home
- Without defeat. Therefore to France, my liege.
- Divide your happy England into four;
- Whereof take you one quarter into France,
- And you withal shall make all Gallia shake.
- If we, with thrice such powers left at home,
- Cannot defend our own doors from the dog,
- Let us be worried, and our nation lose
- The name of hardiness and policy.
- KING HENRY. Call in the messengers sent from the Dauphin.
- Exeunt some attendants
- Now are we well resolv'd; and, by God's help
- And yours, the noble sinews of our power,
- France being ours, we'll bend it to our awe,
- Or break it all to pieces; or there we'll sit,
- Ruling in large and ample empery
- O'er France and all her almost kingly dukedoms,
- Or lay these bones in an unworthy urn,
- Tombless, with no remembrance over them.
- Either our history shall with full mouth
- Speak freely of our acts, or else our grave,
- Like Turkish mute, shall have a tongueless mouth,
- Not worshipp'd with a waxen epitaph.
-
- Enter AMBASSADORS of France
-
- Now are we well prepar'd to know the pleasure
- Of our fair cousin Dauphin; for we hear
- Your greeting is from him, not from the King.
- AMBASSADOR. May't please your Majesty to give us leave
- Freely to render what we have in charge;
- Or shall we sparingly show you far of
- The Dauphin's meaning and our embassy?
- KING HENRY. We are no tyrant, but a Christian king,
- Unto whose grace our passion is as subject
- As are our wretches fett'red in our prisons;
- Therefore with frank and with uncurbed plainness
- Tell us the Dauphin's mind.
- AMBASSADOR. Thus then, in few.
- Your Highness, lately sending into France,
- Did claim some certain dukedoms in the right
- Of your great predecessor, King Edward the Third.
- In answer of which claim, the Prince our master
- Says that you savour too much of your youth,
- And bids you be advis'd there's nought in France
- That can be with a nimble galliard won;
- You cannot revel into dukedoms there.
- He therefore sends you, meeter for your spirit,
- This tun of treasure; and, in lieu of this,
- Desires you let the dukedoms that you claim
- Hear no more of you. This the Dauphin speaks.
- KING HENRY. What treasure, uncle?
- EXETER. Tennis-balls, my liege.
- KING HENRY. We are glad the Dauphin is so pleasant with us;
- His present and your pains we thank you for.
- When we have match'd our rackets to these balls,
- We will in France, by God's grace, play a set
- Shall strike his father's crown into the hazard.
- Tell him he hath made a match with such a wrangler
- That all the courts of France will be disturb'd
- With chaces. And we understand him well,
- How he comes o'er us with our wilder days,
- Not measuring what use we made of them.
- We never valu'd this poor seat of England;
- And therefore, living hence, did give ourself
- To barbarous licence; as 'tis ever common
- That men are merriest when they are from home.
- But tell the Dauphin I will keep my state,
- Be like a king, and show my sail of greatness,
- When I do rouse me in my throne of France;
- For that I have laid by my majesty
- And plodded like a man for working-days;
- But I will rise there with so full a glory
- That I will dazzle all the eyes of France,
- Yea, strike the Dauphin blind to look on us.
- And tell the pleasant Prince this mock of his
- Hath turn'd his balls to gun-stones, and his soul
- Shall stand sore charged for the wasteful vengeance
- That shall fly with them; for many a thousand widows
- Shall this his mock mock of their dear husbands;
- Mock mothers from their sons, mock castles down;
- And some are yet ungotten and unborn
- That shall have cause to curse the Dauphin's scorn.
- But this lies all within the will of God,
- To whom I do appeal; and in whose name,
- Tell you the Dauphin, I am coming on,
- To venge me as I may and to put forth
- My rightful hand in a well-hallow'd cause.
- So get you hence in peace; and tell the Dauphin
- His jest will savour but of shallow wit,
- When thousands weep more than did laugh at it.
- Convey them with safe conduct. Fare you well.
- Exeunt AMBASSADORS
- EXETER. This was a merry message.
- KING HENRY. We hope to make the sender blush at it.
- Therefore, my lords, omit no happy hour
- That may give furth'rance to our expedition;
- For we have now no thought in us but France,
- Save those to God, that run before our business.
- Therefore let our proportions for these wars
- Be soon collected, and all things thought upon
- That may with reasonable swiftness ad
- More feathers to our wings; for, God before,
- We'll chide this Dauphin at his father's door.
- Therefore let every man now task his thought
- That this fair action may on foot be brought. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT II. PROLOGUE.
-
-Flourish. Enter CHORUS
-
- CHORUS. Now all the youth of England are on fire,
- And silken dalliance in the wardrobe lies;
- Now thrive the armourers, and honour's thought
- Reigns solely in the breast of every man;
- They sell the pasture now to buy the horse,
- Following the mirror of all Christian kings
- With winged heels, as English Mercuries.
- For now sits Expectation in the air,
- And hides a sword from hilts unto the point
- With crowns imperial, crowns, and coronets,
- Promis'd to Harry and his followers.
- The French, advis'd by good intelligence
- Of this most dreadful preparation,
- Shake in their fear and with pale policy
- Seek to divert the English purposes.
- O England! model to thy inward greatness,
- Like little body with a mighty heart,
- What mightst thou do that honour would thee do,
- Were all thy children kind and natural!
- But see thy fault! France hath in thee found out
- A nest of hollow bosoms, which he fills
- With treacherous crowns; and three corrupted men-
- One, Richard Earl of Cambridge, and the second,
- Henry Lord Scroop of Masham, and the third,
- Sir Thomas Grey, knight, of Northumberland,
- Have, for the gilt of France- O guilt indeed!-
- Confirm'd conspiracy with fearful France;
- And by their hands this grace of kings must die-
- If hell and treason hold their promises,
- Ere he take ship for France- and in Southampton.
- Linger your patience on, and we'll digest
- Th' abuse of distance, force a play.
- The sum is paid, the traitors are agreed,
- The King is set from London, and the scene
- Is now transported, gentles, to Southampton;
- There is the play-house now, there must you sit,
- And thence to France shall we convey you safe
- And bring you back, charming the narrow seas
- To give you gentle pass; for, if we may,
- We'll not offend one stomach with our play.
- But, till the King come forth, and not till then,
- Unto Southampton do we shift our scene. Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE I.
-London. Before the Boar's Head Tavern, Eastcheap
-
-Enter CORPORAL NYM and LIEUTENANT BARDOLPH
-
- BARDOLPH. Well met, Corporal Nym.
- NYM. Good morrow, Lieutenant Bardolph.
- BARDOLPH. What, are Ancient Pistol and you friends yet?
- NYM. For my part, I care not; I say little, but when time shall
- serve, there shall be smiles- but that shall be as it may. I dare
- not fight; but I will wink and hold out mine iron. It is a simple
- one; but what though? It will toast cheese, and it will endure
- cold as another man's sword will; and there's an end.
- BARDOLPH. I will bestow a breakfast to make you friends; and we'll
- be all three sworn brothers to France. Let't be so, good Corporal
- Nym.
- NYM. Faith, I will live so long as I may, that's the certain of it;
- and when I cannot live any longer, I will do as I may. That is my
- rest, that is the rendezvous of it.
- BARDOLPH. It is certain, Corporal, that he is married to Nell
- Quickly; and certainly she did you wrong, for you were
- troth-plight to her.
- NYM. I cannot tell; things must be as they may. Men may sleep, and
- they may have their throats about them at that time; and some say
- knives have edges. It must be as it may; though patience be a
- tired mare, yet she will plod. There must be conclusions. Well, I
- cannot tell.
-
- Enter PISTOL and HOSTESS
-
- BARDOLPH. Here comes Ancient Pistol and his wife. Good Corporal, be
- patient here.
- NYM. How now, mine host Pistol!
- PISTOL. Base tike, call'st thou me host?
- Now by this hand, I swear I scorn the term;
- Nor shall my Nell keep lodgers.
- HOSTESS. No, by my troth, not long; for we cannot lodge and board a
- dozen or fourteen gentlewomen that live honestly by the prick of
- their needles, but it will be thought we keep a bawdy-house
- straight. [Nym draws] O well-a-day, Lady, if he be not drawn! Now
- we shall see wilful adultery and murder committed.
- BARDOLPH. Good Lieutenant, good Corporal, offer nothing here.
- NYM. Pish!
- PISTOL. Pish for thee, Iceland dog! thou prick-ear'd cur of
- Iceland!
- HOSTESS. Good Corporal Nym, show thy valour, and put up your sword.
- NYM. Will you shog off? I would have you solus.
- PISTOL. 'Solus,' egregious dog? O viper vile!
- The 'solus' in thy most mervailous face;
- The 'solus' in thy teeth, and in thy throat,
- And in thy hateful lungs, yea, in thy maw, perdy;
- And, which is worse, within thy nasty mouth!
- I do retort the 'solus' in thy bowels;
- For I can take, and Pistol's cock is up,
- And flashing fire will follow.
- NYM. I am not Barbason: you cannot conjure me. I have an humour to
- knock you indifferently well. If you grow foul with me, Pistol, I
- will scour you with my rapier, as I may, in fair terms; if you
- would walk off I would prick your guts a little, in good terms,
- as I may, and thaes the humour of it.
- PISTOL. O braggart vile and damned furious wight!
- The grave doth gape and doting death is near;
- Therefore exhale. [PISTOL draws]
- BARDOLPH. Hear me, hear me what I say: he that strikes the first
- stroke I'll run him up to the hilts, as I am a soldier.
- [Draws]
- PISTOL. An oath of mickle might; and fury shall abate.
- [PISTOL and Nym sheathe their swords]
- Give me thy fist, thy fore-foot to me give;
- Thy spirits are most tall.
- NYM. I will cut thy throat one time or other, in fair terms; that
- is the humour of it.
- PISTOL. 'Couple a gorge!'
- That is the word. I thee defy again.
- O hound of Crete, think'st thou my spouse to get?
- No; to the spital go,
- And from the powd'ring tub of infamy
- Fetch forth the lazar kite of Cressid's kind,
- Doll Tearsheet she by name, and her espouse.
- I have, and I will hold, the quondam Quickly
- For the only she; and- pauca, there's enough.
- Go to.
-
- Enter the Boy
-
- BOY. Mine host Pistol, you must come to my master; and your
- hostess- he is very sick, and would to bed. Good Bardolph, put
- thy face between his sheets, and do the office of a warming-pan.
- Faith, he's very ill.
- BARDOLPH. Away, you rogue.
- HOSTESS. By my troth, he'll yield the crow a pudding one of these
- days: the King has kill'd his heart. Good husband, come home
- presently. Exeunt HOSTESS and BOY
- BARDOLPH. Come, shall I make you two friends? We must to France
- together; why the devil should we keep knives to cut one
- another's throats?
- PISTOL. Let floods o'erswell, and fiends for food howl on!
- NYM. You'll pay me the eight shillings I won of you at betting?
- PISTOL. Base is the slave that pays.
- NYM. That now I will have; that's the humour of it.
- PISTOL. As manhood shall compound: push home.
- [PISTOL and Nym draw]
- BARDOLPH. By this sword, he that makes the first thrust I'll kill
- him; by this sword, I will.
- PISTOL. Sword is an oath, and oaths must have their course.
- [Sheathes his sword]
- BARDOLPH. Corporal Nym, an thou wilt be friends, be friends; an
- thou wilt not, why then be enemies with me too. Prithee put up.
- NYM. I shall have my eight shillings I won of you at betting?
- PISTOL. A noble shalt thou have, and present pay;
- And liquor likewise will I give to thee,
- And friendship shall combine, and brotherhood.
- I'll live by Nym and Nym shall live by me.
- Is not this just? For I shall sutler be
- Unto the camp, and profits will accrue.
- Give me thy hand.
- NYM. [Sheathing his sword] I shall have my noble?
- PISTOL. In cash most justly paid.
- NYM. [Shaking hands] Well, then, that's the humour of't.
-
- Re-enter HOSTESS
-
- HOSTESS. As ever you come of women, come in quickly to Sir John.
- Ah, poor heart! he is so shak'd of a burning quotidian tertian
- that it is most lamentable to behold. Sweet men, come to him.
- NYM. The King hath run bad humours on the knight; that's the even
- of it.
- PISTOL. Nym, thou hast spoke the right;
- His heart is fracted and corroborate.
- NYM. The King is a good king, but it must be as it may; he passes
- some humours and careers.
- PISTOL. Let us condole the knight; for, lambkins, we will live.
- Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-Southampton. A council-chamber
-
-Enter EXETER, BEDFORD, and WESTMORELAND
-
- BEDFORD. Fore God, his Grace is bold, to trust these traitors.
- EXETER. They shall be apprehended by and by.
- WESTMORELAND. How smooth and even they do bear themselves,
- As if allegiance in their bosoms sat,
- Crowned with faith and constant loyalty!
- BEDFORD. The King hath note of all that they intend,
- By interception which they dream not of.
- EXETER. Nay, but the man that was his bedfellow,
- Whom he hath dull'd and cloy'd with gracious favours-
- That he should, for a foreign purse, so sell
- His sovereign's life to death and treachery!
-
- Trumpets sound. Enter the KING, SCROOP,
- CAMBRIDGE, GREY, and attendants
-
- KING HENRY. Now sits the wind fair, and we will aboard.
- My Lord of Cambridge, and my kind Lord of Masham,
- And you, my gentle knight, give me your thoughts.
- Think you not that the pow'rs we bear with us
- Will cut their passage through the force of France,
- Doing the execution and the act
- For which we have in head assembled them?
- SCROOP. No doubt, my liege, if each man do his best.
- KING HENRY. I doubt not that, since we are well persuaded
- We carry not a heart with us from hence
- That grows not in a fair consent with ours;
- Nor leave not one behind that doth not wish
- Success and conquest to attend on us.
- CAMBRIDGE. Never was monarch better fear'd and lov'd
- Than is your Majesty. There's not, I think, a subject
- That sits in heart-grief and uneasines
- Under the sweet shade of your government.
- GREY. True: those that were your father's enemies
- Have steep'd their galls in honey, and do serve you
- With hearts create of duty and of zeal.
- KING HENRY. We therefore have great cause of thankfulness,
- And shall forget the office of our hand
- Sooner than quittance of desert and merit
- According to the weight and worthiness.
- SCROOP. So service shall with steeled sinews toil,
- And labour shall refresh itself with hope,
- To do your Grace incessant services.
- KING HENRY. We judge no less. Uncle of Exeter,
- Enlarge the man committed yesterday
- That rail'd against our person. We consider
- It was excess of wine that set him on;
- And on his more advice we pardon him.
- SCROOP. That's mercy, but too much security.
- Let him be punish'd, sovereign, lest example
- Breed, by his sufferance, more of such a kind.
- KING HENRY. O, let us yet be merciful!
- CAMBRIDGE. So may your Highness, and yet punish too.
- GREY. Sir,
- You show great mercy if you give him life,
- After the taste of much correction.
- KING HENRY. Alas, your too much love and care of me
- Are heavy orisons 'gainst this poor wretch!
- If little faults proceeding on distemper
- Shall not be wink'd at, how shall we stretch our eye
- When capital crimes, chew'd, swallow'd, and digested,
- Appear before us? We'll yet enlarge that man,
- Though Cambridge, Scroop, and Grey, in their dear care
- And tender preservation of our person,
- Would have him punish'd. And now to our French causes:
- Who are the late commissioners?
- CAMBRIDGE. I one, my lord.
- Your Highness bade me ask for it to-day.
- SCROOP. So did you me, my liege.
- GREY. And I, my royal sovereign.
- KING HENRY. Then, Richard Earl of Cambridge, there is yours;
- There yours, Lord Scroop of Masham; and, Sir Knight,
- Grey of Northumberland, this same is yours.
- Read them, and know I know your worthiness.
- My Lord of Westmoreland, and uncle Exeter,
- We will aboard to-night. Why, how now, gentlemen?
- What see you in those papers, that you lose
- So much complexion? Look ye how they change!
- Their cheeks are paper. Why, what read you there
- That have so cowarded and chas'd your blood
- Out of appearance?
- CAMBRIDGE. I do confess my fault,
- And do submit me to your Highness' mercy.
- GREY, SCROOP. To which we all appeal.
- KING HENRY. The mercy that was quick in us but late
- By your own counsel is suppress'd and kill'd.
- You must not dare, for shame, to talk of mercy;
- For your own reasons turn into your bosoms
- As dogs upon their masters, worrying you.
- See you, my princes and my noble peers,
- These English monsters! My Lord of Cambridge here-
- You know how apt our love was to accord
- To furnish him with an appertinents
- Belonging to his honour; and this man
- Hath, for a few light crowns, lightly conspir'd,
- And sworn unto the practices of France
- To kill us here in Hampton; to the which
- This knight, no less for bounty bound to us
- Than Cambridge is, hath likewise sworn. But, O,
- What shall I say to thee, Lord Scroop, thou cruel,
- Ingrateful, savage, and inhuman creature?
- Thou that didst bear the key of all my counsels,
- That knew'st the very bottom of my soul,
- That almost mightst have coin'd me into gold,
- Wouldst thou have practis'd on me for thy use-
- May it be possible that foreign hire
- Could out of thee extract one spark of evil
- That might annoy my finger? 'Tis so strange
- That, though the truth of it stands off as gross
- As black and white, my eye will scarcely see it.
- Treason and murder ever kept together,
- As two yoke-devils sworn to either's purpose,
- Working so grossly in a natural cause
- That admiration did not whoop at them;
- But thou, 'gainst all proportion, didst bring in
- Wonder to wait on treason and on murder;
- And whatsoever cunning fiend it was
- That wrought upon thee so preposterously
- Hath got the voice in hell for excellence;
- And other devils that suggest by treasons
- Do botch and bungle up damnation
- With patches, colours, and with forms, being fetch'd
- From glist'ring semblances of piety;
- But he that temper'd thee bade thee stand up,
- Gave thee no instance why thou shouldst do treason,
- Unless to dub thee with the name of traitor.
- If that same demon that hath gull'd thee thus
- Should with his lion gait walk the whole world,
- He might return to vasty Tartar back,
- And tell the legions 'I can never win
- A soul so easy as that Englishman's.'
- O, how hast thou with jealousy infected
- The sweetness of affiance! Show men dutiful?
- Why, so didst thou. Seem they grave and learned?
- Why, so didst thou. Come they of noble family?
- Why, so didst thou. Seem they religious?
- Why, so didst thou. Or are they spare in diet,
- Free from gross passion or of mirth or anger,
- Constant in spirit, not swerving with the blood,
- Garnish'd and deck'd in modest complement,
- Not working with the eye without the ear,
- And but in purged judgment trusting neither?
- Such and so finely bolted didst thou seem;
- And thus thy fall hath left a kind of blot
- To mark the full-fraught man and best indued
- With some suspicion. I will weep for thee;
- For this revolt of thine, methinks, is like
- Another fall of man. Their faults are open.
- Arrest them to the answer of the law;
- And God acquit them of their practices!
- EXETER. I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of Richard Earl
- of Cambridge.
- I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of Henry Lord Scroop
- of Masham.
- I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of Thomas Grey,
- knight, of Northumberland.
- SCROOP. Our purposes God justly hath discover'd,
- And I repent my fault more than my death;
- Which I beseech your Highness to forgive,
- Although my body pay the price of it.
- CAMBRIDGE. For me, the gold of France did not seduce,
- Although I did admit it as a motive
- The sooner to effect what I intended;
- But God be thanked for prevention,
- Which I in sufferance heartily will rejoice,
- Beseeching God and you to pardon me.
- GREY. Never did faithful subject more rejoice
- At the discovery of most dangerous treason
- Than I do at this hour joy o'er myself,
- Prevented from a damned enterprise.
- My fault, but not my body, pardon, sovereign.
- KING HENRY. God quit you in his mercy! Hear your sentence.
- You have conspir'd against our royal person,
- Join'd with an enemy proclaim'd, and from his coffers
- Receiv'd the golden earnest of our death;
- Wherein you would have sold your king to slaughter,
- His princes and his peers to servitude,
- His subjects to oppression and contempt,
- And his whole kingdom into desolation.
- Touching our person seek we no revenge;
- But we our kingdom's safety must so tender,
- Whose ruin you have sought, that to her laws
- We do deliver you. Get you therefore hence,
- Poor miserable wretches, to your death;
- The taste whereof God of his mercy give
- You patience to endure, and true repentance
- Of all your dear offences. Bear them hence.
- Exeunt CAMBRIDGE, SCROOP, and GREY, guarded
- Now, lords, for France; the enterprise whereof
- Shall be to you as us like glorious.
- We doubt not of a fair and lucky war,
- Since God so graciously hath brought to light
- This dangerous treason, lurking in our way
- To hinder our beginnings; we doubt not now
- But every rub is smoothed on our way.
- Then, forth, dear countrymen; let us deliver
- Our puissance into the hand of God,
- Putting it straight in expedition.
- Cheerly to sea; the signs of war advance;
- No king of England, if not king of France!
- Flourish. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-Eastcheap. Before the Boar's Head tavern
-
-Enter PISTOL, HOSTESS, NYM, BARDOLPH, and Boy
-
- HOSTESS. Prithee, honey-sweet husband, let me bring thee to
- Staines.
- PISTOL. No; for my manly heart doth earn.
- Bardolph, be blithe; Nym, rouse thy vaunting veins;
- Boy, bristle thy courage up. For Falstaff he is dead,
- And we must earn therefore.
- BARDOLPH. Would I were with him, wheresome'er he is, either in
- heaven or in hell!
- HOSTESS. Nay, sure, he's not in hell: he's in Arthur's bosom, if
- ever man went to Arthur's bosom. 'A made a finer end, and went
- away an it had been any christom child; 'a parted ev'n just
- between twelve and one, ev'n at the turning o' th' tide; for
- after I saw him fumble with the sheets, and play with flowers,
- and smile upon his fingers' end, I knew there was but one way;
- for his nose was as sharp as a pen, and 'a babbl'd of green
- fields. 'How now, Sir John!' quoth I 'What, man, be o' good
- cheer.' So 'a cried out 'God, God, God!' three or four times. Now
- I, to comfort him, bid him 'a should not think of God; I hop'd
- there was no need to trouble himself with any such thoughts yet.
- So 'a bade me lay more clothes on his feet; I put my hand into
- the bed and felt them, and they were as cold as any stone; then I
- felt to his knees, and so upward and upward, and all was as cold
- as any stone.
- NYM. They say he cried out of sack.
- HOSTESS. Ay, that 'a did.
- BARDOLPH. And of women.
- HOSTESS. Nay, that 'a did not.
- BOY. Yes, that 'a did, and said they were devils incarnate.
- HOSTESS. 'A could never abide carnation; 'twas a colour he never
- liked.
- BOY. 'A said once the devil would have him about women.
- HOSTESS. 'A did in some sort, indeed, handle women; but then he was
- rheumatic, and talk'd of the Whore of Babylon.
- BOY. Do you not remember 'a saw a flea stick upon Bardolph's nose,
- and 'a said it was a black soul burning in hell?
- BARDOLPH. Well, the fuel is gone that maintain'd that fire: that's
- all the riches I got in his service.
- NYM. Shall we shog? The King will be gone from Southampton.
- PISTOL. Come, let's away. My love, give me thy lips.
- Look to my chattles and my moveables;
- Let senses rule. The word is 'Pitch and Pay.'
- Trust none;
- For oaths are straws, men's faiths are wafer-cakes,
- And Holdfast is the only dog, my duck.
- Therefore, Caveto be thy counsellor.
- Go, clear thy crystals. Yoke-fellows in arms,
- Let us to France, like horse-leeches, my boys,
- To suck, to suck, the very blood to suck.
- BOY. And that's but unwholesome food, they say.
- PISTOL. Touch her soft mouth and march.
- BARDOLPH. Farewell, hostess. [Kissing her]
- NYM. I cannot kiss, that is the humour of it; but adieu.
- PISTOL. Let housewifery appear; keep close, I thee command.
- HOSTESS. Farewell; adieu. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE IV.
-France. The KING'S palace
-
-Flourish. Enter the FRENCH KING, the DAUPHIN, the DUKES OF BERRI
-and BRITAINE, the CONSTABLE, and others
-
- FRENCH KING. Thus comes the English with full power upon us;
- And more than carefully it us concerns
- To answer royally in our defences.
- Therefore the Dukes of Berri and of Britaine,
- Of Brabant and of Orleans, shall make forth,
- And you, Prince Dauphin, with all swift dispatch,
- To line and new repair our towns of war
- With men of courage and with means defendant;
- For England his approaches makes as fierce
- As waters to the sucking of a gulf.
- It fits us, then, to be as provident
- As fear may teach us, out of late examples
- Left by the fatal and neglected English
- Upon our fields.
- DAUPHIN. My most redoubted father,
- It is most meet we arm us 'gainst the foe;
- For peace itself should not so dull a kingdom,
- Though war nor no known quarrel were in question,
- But that defences, musters, preparations,
- Should be maintain'd, assembled, and collected,
- As were a war in expectation.
- Therefore, I say, 'tis meet we all go forth
- To view the sick and feeble parts of France;
- And let us do it with no show of fear-
- No, with no more than if we heard that England
- Were busied with a Whitsun morris-dance;
- For, my good liege, she is so idly king'd,
- Her sceptre so fantastically borne
- By a vain, giddy, shallow, humorous youth,
- That fear attends her not.
- CONSTABLE. O peace, Prince Dauphin!
- You are too much mistaken in this king.
- Question your Grace the late ambassadors
- With what great state he heard their embassy,
- How well supplied with noble counsellors,
- How modest in exception, and withal
- How terrible in constant resolution,
- And you shall find his vanities forespent
- Were but the outside of the Roman Brutus,
- Covering discretion with a coat of folly;
- As gardeners do with ordure hide those roots
- That shall first spring and be most delicate.
- DAUPHIN. Well, 'tis not so, my Lord High Constable;
- But though we think it so, it is no matter.
- In cases of defence 'tis best to weigh
- The enemy more mighty than he seems;
- So the proportions of defence are fill'd;
- Which of a weak and niggardly projection
- Doth like a miser spoil his coat with scanting
- A little cloth.
- FRENCH KING. Think we King Harry strong;
- And, Princes, look you strongly arm to meet him.
- The kindred of him hath been flesh'd upon us;
- And he is bred out of that bloody strain
- That haunted us in our familiar paths.
- Witness our too much memorable shame
- When Cressy battle fatally was struck,
- And all our princes capdv'd by the hand
- Of that black name, Edward, Black Prince of Wales;
- Whiles that his mountain sire- on mountain standing,
- Up in the air, crown'd with the golden sun-
- Saw his heroical seed, and smil'd to see him,
- Mangle the work of nature, and deface
- The patterns that by God and by French fathers
- Had twenty years been made. This is a stern
- Of that victorious stock; and let us fear
- The native mightiness and fate of him.
-
- Enter a MESSENGER
-
- MESSENGER. Ambassadors from Harry King of England
- Do crave admittance to your Majesty.
- FRENCH KING. We'll give them present audience. Go and bring them.
- Exeunt MESSENGER and certain LORDS
- You see this chase is hotly followed, friends.
- DAUPHIN. Turn head and stop pursuit; for coward dogs
- Most spend their mouths when what they seem to threaten
- Runs far before them. Good my sovereign,
- Take up the English short, and let them know
- Of what a monarchy you are the head.
- Self-love, my liege, is not so vile a sin
- As self-neglecting.
-
- Re-enter LORDS, with EXETER and train
-
- FRENCH KING. From our brother of England?
- EXETER. From him, and thus he greets your Majesty:
- He wills you, in the name of God Almighty,
- That you divest yourself, and lay apart
- The borrowed glories that by gift of heaven,
- By law of nature and of nations, 'longs
- To him and to his heirs- namely, the crown,
- And all wide-stretched honours that pertain,
- By custom and the ordinance of times,
- Unto the crown of France. That you may know
- 'Tis no sinister nor no awkward claim,
- Pick'd from the worm-holes of long-vanish'd days,
- Nor from the dust of old oblivion rak'd,
- He sends you this most memorable line, [Gives a paper]
- In every branch truly demonstrative;
- Willing you overlook this pedigree.
- And when you find him evenly deriv'd
- From his most fam'd of famous ancestors,
- Edward the Third, he bids you then resign
- Your crown and kingdom, indirectly held
- From him, the native and true challenger.
- FRENCH KING. Or else what follows?
- EXETER. Bloody constraint; for if you hide the crown
- Even in your hearts, there will he rake for it.
- Therefore in fierce tempest is he coming,
- In thunder and in earthquake, like a Jove,
- That if requiring fail, he will compel;
- And bids you, in the bowels of the Lord,
- Deliver up the crown; and to take mercy
- On the poor souls for whom this hungry war
- Opens his vasty jaws; and on your head
- Turning the widows' tears, the orphans' cries,
- The dead men's blood, the privy maidens' groans,
- For husbands, fathers, and betrothed lovers,
- That shall be swallowed in this controversy.
- This is his claim, his threat'ning, and my message;
- Unless the Dauphin be in presence here,
- To whom expressly I bring greeting too.
- FRENCH KING. For us, we will consider of this further;
- To-morrow shall you bear our full intent
- Back to our brother of England.
- DAUPHIN. For the Dauphin:
- I stand here for him. What to him from England?
- EXETER. Scorn and defiance, slight regard, contempt,
- And anything that may not misbecome
- The mighty sender, doth he prize you at.
- Thus says my king: an if your father's Highness
- Do not, in grant of all demands at large,
- Sweeten the bitter mock you sent his Majesty,
- He'll call you to so hot an answer of it
- That caves and womby vaultages of France
- Shall chide your trespass and return your mock
- In second accent of his ordinance.
- DAUPHIN. Say, if my father render fair return,
- It is against my will; for I desire
- Nothing but odds with England. To that end,
- As matching to his youth and vanity,
- I did present him with the Paris balls.
- EXETER. He'll make your Paris Louvre shake for it,
- Were it the mistress court of mighty Europe;
- And be assur'd you'll find a difference,
- As we his subjects have in wonder found,
- Between the promise of his greener days
- And these he masters now. Now he weighs time
- Even to the utmost grain; that you shall read
- In your own losses, if he stay in France.
- FRENCH KING. To-morrow shall you know our mind at full.
- EXETER. Dispatch us with all speed, lest that our king
- Come here himself to question our delay;
- For he is footed in this land already.
- FRENCH KING. You shall be soon dispatch'd with fair conditions.
- A night is but small breath and little pause
- To answer matters of this consequence. Flourish. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-ACT III. PROLOGUE.
-
-Flourish. Enter CHORUS
-
- CHORUS. Thus with imagin'd wing our swift scene flies,
- In motion of no less celerity
- Than that of thought. Suppose that you have seen
- The well-appointed King at Hampton pier
- Embark his royalty; and his brave fleet
- With silken streamers the young Phorbus fanning.
- Play with your fancies; and in them behold
- Upon the hempen tackle ship-boys climbing;
- Hear the shrill whistle which doth order give
- To sounds confus'd; behold the threaden sails,
- Borne with th' invisible and creeping wind,
- Draw the huge bottoms through the furrowed sea,
- Breasting the lofty surge. O, do but think
- You stand upon the rivage and behold
- A city on th' inconstant billows dancing;
- For so appears this fleet majestical,
- Holding due course to Harfleur. Follow, follow!
- Grapple your minds to sternage of this navy
- And leave your England as dead midnight still,
- Guarded with grandsires, babies, and old women,
- Either past or not arriv'd to pith and puissance;
- For who is he whose chin is but enrich'd
- With one appearing hair that will not follow
- These cull'd and choice-drawn cavaliers to France?
- Work, work your thoughts, and therein see a siege;
- Behold the ordnance on their carriages,
- With fatal mouths gaping on girded Harfleur.
- Suppose th' ambassador from the French comes back;
- Tells Harry that the King doth offer him
- Katherine his daughter, and with her to dowry
- Some petty and unprofitable dukedoms.
- The offer likes not; and the nimble gunner
- With linstock now the devilish cannon touches,
- [Alarum, and chambers go off]
- And down goes all before them. Still be kind,
- And eke out our performance with your mind. Exit
-
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-SCENE I.
-France. Before Harfleur
-
-Alarum. Enter the KING, EXETER, BEDFORD, GLOUCESTER,
-and soldiers with scaling-ladders
-
- KING. Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more;
- Or close the wall up with our English dead.
- In peace there's nothing so becomes a man
- As modest stillness and humility;
- But when the blast of war blows in our ears,
- Then imitate the action of the tiger:
- Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood,
- Disguise fair nature with hard-favour'd rage;
- Then lend the eye a terrible aspect;
- Let it pry through the portage of the head
- Like the brass cannon: let the brow o'erwhelm it
- As fearfully as doth a galled rock
- O'erhang and jutty his confounded base,
- Swill'd with the wild and wasteful ocean.
- Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide;
- Hold hard the breath, and bend up every spirit
- To his full height. On, on, you noblest English,
- Whose blood is fet from fathers of war-proof-
- Fathers that like so many Alexanders
- Have in these parts from morn till even fought,
- And sheath'd their swords for lack of argument.
- Dishonour not your mothers; now attest
- That those whom you call'd fathers did beget you.
- Be copy now to men of grosser blood,
- And teach them how to war. And you, good yeomen,
- Whose limbs were made in England, show us here
- The mettle of your pasture; let us swear
- That you are worth your breeding- which I doubt not;
- For there is none of you so mean and base
- That hath not noble lustre in your eyes.
- I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,
- Straining upon the start. The game's afoot:
- Follow your spirit; and upon this charge
- Cry 'God for Harry, England, and Saint George!'
- [Exeunt. Alarum, and chambers go off]
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-Before Harfleur
-
-Enter NYM, BARDOLPH, PISTOL, and BOY
-
- BARDOLPH. On, on, on, on, on! to the breach, to the breach!
- NYM. Pray thee, Corporal, stay; the knocks are too hot, and for
- mine own part I have not a case of lives. The humour of it is too
- hot; that is the very plain-song of it.
- PISTOL. The plain-song is most just; for humours do abound:
-
- Knocks go and come; God's vassals drop and die;
- And sword and shield
- In bloody field
- Doth win immortal fame.
-
- BOY. Would I were in an alehouse in London! I wouid give all my
- fame for a pot of ale and safety.
- PISTOL. And I:
-
- If wishes would prevail with me,
- My purpose should not fail with me,
- But thither would I hie.
-
- BOY. As duly, but not as truly,
- As bird doth sing on bough.
-
- Enter FLUELLEN
-
- FLUELLEN. Up to the breach, you dogs!
- Avaunt, you cullions! [Driving them forward]
- PISTOL. Be merciful, great duke, to men of mould.
- Abate thy rage, abate thy manly rage;
- Abate thy rage, great duke.
- Good bawcock, bate thy rage. Use lenity, sweet chuck.
- NYM. These be good humours. Your honour wins bad humours.
- Exeunt all but BOY
- BOY. As young as I am, I have observ'd these three swashers. I am
- boy to them all three; but all they three, though they would
- serve me, could not be man to me; for indeed three such antics do
- not amount to a man. For Bardolph, he is white-liver'd and
- red-fac'd; by the means whereof 'a faces it out, but fights not.
- For Pistol, he hath a killing tongue and a quiet sword; by the
- means whereof 'a breaks words and keeps whole weapons. For Nym,
- he hath heard that men of few words are the best men, and
- therefore he scorns to say his prayers lest 'a should be thought
- a coward; but his few bad words are match'd with as few good
- deeds; for 'a never broke any man's head but his own, and that
- was against a post when he was drunk. They will steal anything,
- and call it purchase. Bardolph stole a lute-case, bore it twelve
- leagues, and sold it for three halfpence. Nym and Bardolph are
- sworn brothers in filching, and in Calais they stole a
- fire-shovel; I knew by that piece of service the men would carry
- coals. They would have me as familiar with men's pockets as their
- gloves or their handkerchers; which makes much against my
- manhood, if I should take from another's pocket to put into mine;
- for it is plain pocketing up of wrongs. I must leave them and
- seek some better service; their villainy goes against my weak
- stomach, and therefore I must cast it up. Exit
-
- Re-enter FLUELLEN, GOWER following
-
- GOWER. Captain Fluellen, you must come presently to the mines; the
- Duke of Gloucester would speak with you.
- FLUELLEN. To the mines! Tell you the Duke it is not so good to come
- to the mines; for, look you, the mines is not according to the
- disciplines of the war; the concavities of it is not sufficient.
- For, look you, th' athversary- you may discuss unto the Duke,
- look you- is digt himself four yard under the countermines; by
- Cheshu, I think 'a will plow up all, if there is not better
- directions.
- GOWER. The Duke of Gloucester, to whom the order of the siege is
- given, is altogether directed by an Irishman- a very vallant
- gentleman, i' faith.
- FLUELLEN. It is Captain Macmorris, is it not?
- GOWER. I think it be.
- FLUELLEN. By Cheshu, he is an ass, as in the world: I will verify
- as much in his beard; he has no more directions in the true
- disciplines of the wars, look you, of the Roman disciplines, than
- is a puppy-dog.
-
- Enter MACMORRIS and CAPTAIN JAMY
-
- GOWER. Here 'a comes; and the Scots captain, Captain Jamy, with
- him.
- FLUELLEN. Captain Jamy is a marvellous falorous gentleman, that is
- certain, and of great expedition and knowledge in th' aunchient
- wars, upon my particular knowledge of his directions. By Cheshu,
- he will maintain his argument as well as any military man in the
- world, in the disciplines of the pristine wars of the Romans.
- JAMY. I say gud day, Captain Fluellen.
- FLUELLEN. God-den to your worship, good Captain James.
- GOWER. How now, Captain Macmorris! Have you quit the mines? Have
- the pioneers given o'er?
- MACMORRIS. By Chrish, la, tish ill done! The work ish give over,
- the trompet sound the retreat. By my hand, I swear, and my
- father's soul, the work ish ill done; it ish give over; I would
- have blowed up the town, so Chrish save me, la, in an hour. O,
- tish ill done, tish ill done; by my hand, tish ill done!
- FLUELLEN. Captain Macmorris, I beseech you now, will you voutsafe
- me, look you, a few disputations with you, as partly touching or
- concerning the disciplines of the war, the Roman wars, in the way
- of argument, look you, and friendly communication; partly to
- satisfy my opinion, and partly for the satisfaction, look you, of
- my mind, as touching the direction of the military discipline,
- that is the point.
- JAMY. It sall be vary gud, gud feith, gud captains bath; and I sall
- quit you with gud leve, as I may pick occasion; that sall I,
- marry.
- MACMORRIS. It is no time to discourse, so Chrish save me. The day
- is hot, and the weather, and the wars, and the King, and the
- Dukes; it is no time to discourse. The town is beseech'd, and the
- trumpet call us to the breach; and we talk and, be Chrish, do
- nothing. 'Tis shame for us all, so God sa' me, 'tis shame to
- stand still; it is shame, by my hand; and there is throats to be
- cut, and works to be done; and there ish nothing done, so Chrish
- sa' me, la.
- JAMY. By the mess, ere theise eyes of mine take themselves to
- slomber, ay'll de gud service, or I'll lig i' th' grund for it;
- ay, or go to death. And I'll pay't as valorously as I may, that
- sall I suerly do, that is the breff and the long. Marry, I wad
- full fain heard some question 'tween you tway.
- FLUELLEN. Captain Macmorris, I think, look you, under your
- correction, there is not many of your nation-
- MACMORRIS. Of my nation? What ish my nation? Ish a villain, and a
- bastard, and a knave, and a rascal. What ish my nation? Who talks
- of my nation?
- FLUELLEN. Look you, if you take the matter otherwise than is meant,
- Captain Macmorris, peradventure I shall think you do not use me
- with that affability as in discretion you ought to use me, look
- you; being as good a man as yourself, both in the disciplines of
- war and in the derivation of my birth, and in other
- particularities.
- MACMORRIS. I do not know you so good a man as myself; so
- Chrish save me, I will cut off your head.
- GOWER. Gentlemen both, you will mistake each other.
- JAMY. Ah! that's a foul fault. [A parley sounded]
- GOWER. The town sounds a parley.
- FLUELLEN. Captain Macmorris, when there is more better opportunity
- to be required, look you, I will be so bold as to tell you I know
- the disciplines of war; and there is an end. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-Before the gates of Harfleur
-
-Enter the GOVERNOR and some citizens on the walls. Enter the KING
-and all his train before the gates
-
- KING HENRY. How yet resolves the Governor of the town?
- This is the latest parle we will admit;
- Therefore to our best mercy give yourselves
- Or, like to men proud of destruction,
- Defy us to our worst; for, as I am a soldier,
- A name that in my thoughts becomes me best,
- If I begin the batt'ry once again,
- I will not leave the half-achieved Harfleur
- Till in her ashes she lie buried.
- The gates of mercy shall be all shut up,
- And the flesh'd soldier, rough and hard of heart,
- In liberty of bloody hand shall range
- With conscience wide as hell, mowing like grass
- Your fresh fair virgins and your flow'ring infants.
- What is it then to me if impious war,
- Array'd in flames, like to the prince of fiends,
- Do, with his smirch'd complexion, all fell feats
- Enlink'd to waste and desolation?
- What is't to me when you yourselves are cause,
- If your pure maidens fall into the hand
- Of hot and forcing violation?
- What rein can hold licentious wickednes
- When down the hill he holds his fierce career?
- We may as bootless spend our vain command
- Upon th' enraged soldiers in their spoil,
- As send precepts to the Leviathan
- To come ashore. Therefore, you men of Harfleur,
- Take pity of your town and of your people
- Whiles yet my soldiers are in my command;
- Whiles yet the cool and temperate wind of grace
- O'erblows the filthy and contagious clouds
- Of heady murder, spoil, and villainy.
- If not- why, in a moment look to see
- The blind and bloody with foul hand
- Defile the locks of your shrill-shrieking daughters;
- Your fathers taken by the silver beards,
- And their most reverend heads dash'd to the walls;
- Your naked infants spitted upon pikes,
- Whiles the mad mothers with their howls confus'd
- Do break the clouds, as did the wives of Jewry
- At Herod's bloody-hunting slaughtermen.
- What say you? Will you yield, and this avoid?
- Or, guilty in defence, be thus destroy'd?
- GOVERNOR. Our expectation hath this day an end:
- The Dauphin, whom of succours we entreated,
- Returns us that his powers are yet not ready
- To raise so great a siege. Therefore, great King,
- We yield our town and lives to thy soft mercy.
- Enter our gates; dispose of us and ours;
- For we no longer are defensible.
- KING HENRY. Open your gates. [Exit GOVERNOR] Come, uncle Exeter,
- Go you and enter Harfleur; there remain,
- And fortify it strongly 'gainst the French;
- Use mercy to them all. For us, dear uncle,
- The winter coming on, and sickness growing
- Upon our soldiers, we will retire to Calais.
- To-night in Harfleur will we be your guest;
- To-morrow for the march are we addrest.
- [Flourish. The KING and his train enter the town]
-
-
-
-
-SCENE IV.
-Rouen. The FRENCH KING'S palace
-
-Enter KATHERINE and ALICE
-
- KATHERINE. Alice, tu as ete en Angleterre, et tu parles bien le
- langage.
- ALICE. Un peu, madame.
- KATHERINE. Je te prie, m'enseignez; il faut que j'apprenne a
- parler. Comment appelez-vous la main en Anglais?
- ALICE. La main? Elle est appelee de hand.
- KATHERINE. De hand. Et les doigts?
- ALICE. Les doigts? Ma foi, j'oublie les doigts; mais je me
- souviendrai. Les doigts? Je pense qu'ils sont appeles de fingres;
- oui, de fingres.
- KATHERINE. La main, de hand; les doigts, de fingres. Je pense que
- je suis le bon ecolier; j'ai gagne deux mots d'Anglais vitement.
- Comment appelez-vous les ongles?
- ALICE. Les ongles? Nous les appelons de nails.
- KATHERINE. De nails. Ecoutez; dites-moi si je parle bien: de hand,
- de fingres, et de nails.
- ALICE. C'est bien dit, madame; il est fort bon Anglais.
- KATHERINE. Dites-moi l'Anglais pour le bras.
- ALICE. De arm, madame.
- KATHERINE. Et le coude?
- ALICE. D'elbow.
- KATHERINE. D'elbow. Je m'en fais la repetition de tous les mots que
- vous m'avez appris des a present.
- ALICE. Il est trop difficile, madame, comme je pense.
- KATHERINE. Excusez-moi, Alice; ecoutez: d'hand, de fingre, de
- nails, d'arma, de bilbow.
- ALICE. D'elbow, madame.
- KATHERINE. O Seigneur Dieu, je m'en oublie! D'elbow.
- Comment appelez-vous le col?
- ALICE. De nick, madame.
- KATHERINE. De nick. Et le menton?
- ALICE. De chin.
- KATHERINE. De sin. Le col, de nick; le menton, de sin.
- ALICE. Oui. Sauf votre honneur, en verite, vous prononcez les mots
- aussi droit que les natifs d'Angleterre.
- KATHERINE. Je ne doute point d'apprendre, par la grace de Dieu, et
- en peu de temps.
- ALICE. N'avez-vous pas deja oublie ce que je vous ai enseigne?
- KATHERINE. Non, je reciterai a vous promptement: d'hand, de fingre,
- de mails-
- ALICE. De nails, madame.
- KATHERINE. De nails, de arm, de ilbow.
- ALICE. Sauf votre honneur, d'elbow.
- KATHERINE. Ainsi dis-je; d'elbow, de nick, et de sin. Comment
- appelez-vous le pied et la robe?
- ALICE. Le foot, madame; et le count.
- KATHERINE. Le foot et le count. O Seigneur Dieu! ils sont mots de
- son mauvais, corruptible, gros, et impudique, et non pour les
- dames d'honneur d'user: je ne voudrais prononcer ces mots devant
- les seigneurs de France pour tout le monde. Foh! le foot et le
- count! Neanmoins, je reciterai une autre fois ma lecon ensemble:
- d'hand, de fingre, de nails, d'arm, d'elbow, de nick, de sin, de
- foot, le count.
- ALICE. Excellent, madame!
- KATHERINE. C'est assez pour une fois: allons-nous a diner.
- Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE V.
-The FRENCH KING'S palace
-
-Enter the KING OF FRANCE, the DAUPHIN, DUKE OF BRITAINE,
-the CONSTABLE OF FRANCE, and others
-
- FRENCH KING. 'Tis certain he hath pass'd the river Somme.
- CONSTABLE. And if he be not fought withal, my lord,
- Let us not live in France; let us quit an,
- And give our vineyards to a barbarous people.
- DAUPHIN. O Dieu vivant! Shall a few sprays of us,
- The emptying of our fathers' luxury,
- Our scions, put in wild and savage stock,
- Spirt up so suddenly into the clouds,
- And overlook their grafters?
- BRITAINE. Normans, but bastard Normans, Norman bastards!
- Mort Dieu, ma vie! if they march along
- Unfought withal, but I will sell my dukedom
- To buy a slobb'ry and a dirty farm
- In that nook-shotten isle of Albion.
- CONSTABLE. Dieu de batailles! where have they this mettle?
- Is not their climate foggy, raw, and dull;
- On whom, as in despite, the sun looks pale,
- Killing their fruit with frowns? Can sodden water,
- A drench for sur-rein'd jades, their barley-broth,
- Decoct their cold blood to such valiant heat?
- And shall our quick blood, spirited with wine,
- Seem frosty? O, for honour of our land,
- Let us not hang like roping icicles
- Upon our houses' thatch, whiles a more frosty people
- Sweat drops of gallant youth in our rich fields-
- Poor we call them in their native lords!
- DAUPHIN. By faith and honour,
- Our madams mock at us and plainly say
- Our mettle is bred out, and they will give
- Their bodies to the lust of English youth
- To new-store France with bastard warriors.
- BRITAINE. They bid us to the English dancing-schools
- And teach lavoltas high and swift corantos,
- Saying our grace is only in our heels
- And that we are most lofty runaways.
- FRENCH KING. Where is Montjoy the herald? Speed him hence;
- Let him greet England with our sharp defiance.
- Up, Princes, and, with spirit of honour edged
- More sharper than your swords, hie to the field:
- Charles Delabreth, High Constable of France;
- You Dukes of Orleans, Bourbon, and of Berri,
- Alengon, Brabant, Bar, and Burgundy;
- Jaques Chatillon, Rambures, Vaudemont,
- Beaumont, Grandpre, Roussi, and Fauconbridge,
- Foix, Lestrake, Bouciqualt, and Charolois;
- High dukes, great princes, barons, lords, and knights,
- For your great seats now quit you of great shames.
- Bar Harry England, that sweeps through our land
- With pennons painted in the blood of Harfleur.
- Rush on his host as doth the melted snow
- Upon the valleys, whose low vassal seat
- The Alps doth spit and void his rheum upon;
- Go down upon him, you have power enough,
- And in a captive chariot into Rouen
- Bring him our prisoner.
- CONSTABLE. This becomes the great.
- Sorry am I his numbers are so few,
- His soldiers sick and famish'd in their march;
- For I am sure, when he shall see our army,
- He'll drop his heart into the sink of fear,
- And for achievement offer us his ransom.
- FRENCH KING. Therefore, Lord Constable, haste on Montjoy,
- And let him say to England that we send
- To know what willing ransom he will give.
- Prince Dauphin, you shall stay with us in Rouen.
- DAUPHIN. Not so, I do beseech your Majesty.
- FRENCH KING. Be patient, for you shall remain with us.
- Now forth, Lord Constable and Princes all,
- And quickly bring us word of England's fall. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE VI.
-The English camp in Picardy
-
-Enter CAPTAINS, English and Welsh, GOWER and FLUELLEN
-
- GOWER. How now, Captain Fluellen! Come you from the bridge?
- FLUELLEN. I assure you there is very excellent services committed
- at the bridge.
- GOWER. Is the Duke of Exeter safe?
- FLUELLEN. The Duke of Exeter is as magnanimous as Agamemnon; and a
- man that I love and honour with my soul, and my heart, and my
- duty, and my live, and my living, and my uttermost power. He is
- not- God be praised and blessed!- any hurt in the world, but
- keeps the bridge most valiantly, with excellent discipline. There
- is an aunchient Lieutenant there at the bridge- I think in my
- very conscience he is as valiant a man as Mark Antony; and he is
- man of no estimation in the world; but I did see him do as
- gallant service.
- GOWER. What do you call him?
- FLUELLEN. He is call'd Aunchient Pistol.
- GOWER. I know him not.
-
- Enter PISTOL
-
- FLUELLEN. Here is the man.
- PISTOL. Captain, I thee beseech to do me favours.
- The Duke of Exeter doth love thee well.
- FLUELLEN. Ay, I praise God; and I have merited some love at his
- hands.
- PISTOL. Bardolph, a soldier, firm and sound of heart,
- And of buxom valour, hath by cruel fate
- And giddy Fortune's furious fickle wheel,
- That goddess blind,
- That stands upon the rolling restless stone-
- FLUELLEN. By your patience, Aunchient Pistol. Fortune is painted
- blind, with a muffler afore her eyes, to signify to you that
- Fortune is blind; and she is painted also with a wheel, to
- signify to you, which is the moral of it, that she is turning,
- and inconstant, and mutability, and variation; and her foot, look
- you, is fixed upon a spherical stone, which rolls, and rolls, and
- rolls. In good truth, the poet makes a most excellent description
- of it: Fortune is an excellent moral.
- PISTOL. Fortune is Bardolph's foe, and frowns on him;
- For he hath stol'n a pax, and hanged must 'a be-
- A damned death!
- Let gallows gape for dog; let man go free,
- And let not hemp his windpipe suffocate.
- But Exeter hath given the doom of death
- For pax of little price.
- Therefore, go speak- the Duke will hear thy voice;
- And let not Bardolph's vital thread be cut
- With edge of penny cord and vile reproach.
- Speak, Captain, for his life, and I will thee requite.
- FLUELLEN. Aunchient Pistol, I do partly understand your meaning.
- PISTOL. Why then, rejoice therefore.
- FLUELLEN. Certainly, Aunchient, it is not a thing to rejoice at;
- for if, look you, he were my brother, I would desire the Duke to
- use his good pleasure, and put him to execution; for discipline
- ought to be used.
- PISTOL. Die and be damn'd! and figo for thy friendship!
- FLUELLEN. It is well.
- PISTOL. The fig of Spain! Exit
- FLUELLEN. Very good.
- GOWER. Why, this is an arrant counterfeit rascal; I remember him
- now- a bawd, a cutpurse.
- FLUELLEN. I'll assure you, 'a utt'red as prave words at the pridge
- as you shall see in a summer's day. But it is very well; what he
- has spoke to me, that is well, I warrant you, when time is serve.
- GOWER. Why, 'tis a gull a fool a rogue, that now and then goes to
- the wars to grace himself, at his return into London, under the
- form of a soldier. And such fellows are perfect in the great
- commanders' names; and they will learn you by rote where services
- were done- at such and such a sconce, at such a breach, at such a
- convoy; who came off bravely, who was shot, who disgrac'd, what
- terms the enemy stood on; and this they con perfectly in the
- phrase of war, which they trick up with new-tuned oaths; and what
- a beard of the General's cut and a horrid suit of the camp will
- do among foaming bottles and ale-wash'd wits is wonderful to be
- thought on. But you must learn to know such slanders of the age,
- or else you may be marvellously mistook.
- FLUELLEN. I tell you what, Captain Gower, I do perceive he is not
- the man that he would gladly make show to the world he is; if I
- find a hole in his coat I will tell him my mind. [Drum within]
- Hark you, the King is coming; and I must speak with him from the
- pridge.
-
- Drum and colours. Enter the KING and his poor soldiers,
- and GLOUCESTER
-
- God pless your Majesty!
- KING HENRY. How now, Fluellen! Cam'st thou from the bridge?
- FLUELLEN. Ay, so please your Majesty. The Duke of Exeter has very
- gallantly maintain'd the pridge; the French is gone off, look
- you, and there is gallant and most prave passages. Marry, th'
- athversary was have possession of the pridge; but he is enforced
- to retire, and the Duke of Exeter is master of the pridge; I can
- tell your Majesty the Duke is a prave man.
- KING HENRY. What men have you lost, Fluellen!
- FLUELLEN. The perdition of th' athversary hath been very great,
- reasonable great; marry, for my part, I think the Duke hath lost
- never a man, but one that is like to be executed for robbing a
- church- one Bardolph, if your Majesty know the man; his face is
- all bubukles, and whelks, and knobs, and flames o' fire; and his
- lips blows at his nose, and it is like a coal of fire, sometimes
- plue and sometimes red; but his nose is executed and his fire's
- out.
- KING HENRY. We would have all such offenders so cut off. And we
- give express charge that in our marches through the country there
- be nothing compell'd from the villages, nothing taken but paid
- for, none of the French upbraided or abused in disdainful
- language; for when lenity and cruelty play for a kingdom the
- gentler gamester is the soonest winner.
-
- Tucket. Enter MONTJOY
-
- MONTJOY. You know me by my habit.
- KING HENRY. Well then, I know thee; what shall I know of thee?
- MONTJOY. My master's mind.
- KING HENRY. Unfold it.
- MONTJOY. Thus says my king. Say thou to Harry of England: Though we
- seem'd dead we did but sleep; advantage is a better soldier than
- rashness. Tell him we could have rebuk'd him at Harfleur, but
- that we thought not good to bruise an injury till it were full
- ripe. Now we speak upon our cue, and our voice is imperial:
- England shall repent his folly, see his weakness, and admire our
- sufferance. Bid him therefore consider of his ransom, which must
- proportion the losses we have borne, the subjects we have lost,
- the disgrace we have digested; which, in weight to re-answer, his
- pettiness would bow under. For our losses his exchequer is too
- poor; for th' effusion of our blood, the muster of his kingdom
- too faint a number; and for our disgrace, his own person kneeling
- at our feet but a weak and worthless satisfaction. To this add
- defiance; and tell him, for conclusion, he hath betrayed his
- followers, whose condemnation is pronounc'd. So far my king and
- master; so much my office.
- KING HENRY. What is thy name? I know thy quality.
- MONTJOY. Montjoy.
- KING HENRY. Thou dost thy office fairly. Turn thee back,
- And tell thy king I do not seek him now,
- But could be willing to march on to Calais
- Without impeachment; for, to say the sooth-
- Though 'tis no wisdom to confess so much
- Unto an enemy of craft and vantage-
- My people are with sickness much enfeebled;
- My numbers lessen'd; and those few I have
- Almost no better than so many French;
- Who when they were in health, I tell thee, herald,
- I thought upon one pair of English legs
- Did march three Frenchmen. Yet forgive me, God,
- That I do brag thus; this your air of France
- Hath blown that vice in me; I must repent.
- Go, therefore, tell thy master here I am;
- My ransom is this frail and worthless trunk;
- My army but a weak and sickly guard;
- Yet, God before, tell him we will come on,
- Though France himself and such another neighbour
- Stand in our way. There's for thy labour, Montjoy.
- Go, bid thy master well advise himself.
- If we may pass, we will; if we be hind'red,
- We shall your tawny ground with your red blood
- Discolour; and so, Montjoy, fare you well.
- The sum of all our answer is but this:
- We would not seek a battle as we are;
- Nor as we are, we say, we will not shun it.
- So tell your master.
- MONTJOY. I shall deliver so. Thanks to your Highness. Exit
- GLOUCESTER. I hope they will not come upon us now.
- KING HENRY. We are in God's hand, brother, not in theirs.
- March to the bridge, it now draws toward night;
- Beyond the river we'll encamp ourselves,
- And on to-morrow bid them march away. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE VII.
-The French camp near Agincourt
-
-Enter the CONSTABLE OF FRANCE, the LORD RAMBURES, the DUKE OF ORLEANS,
-the DAUPHIN, with others
-
- CONSTABLE. Tut! I have the best armour of the world.
- Would it were day!
- ORLEANS. You have an excellent armour; but let my horse have his
- due.
- CONSTABLE. It is the best horse of Europe.
- ORLEANS. Will it never be morning?
- DAUPHIN. My Lord of Orleans and my Lord High Constable, you talk of
- horse and armour?
- ORLEANS. You are as well provided of both as any prince in the
- world.
- DAUPHIN. What a long night is this! I will not change my horse with
- any that treads but on four pasterns. Ca, ha! he bounds from the
- earth as if his entrails were hairs; le cheval volant, the
- Pegasus, chez les narines de feu! When I bestride him I soar, I
- am a hawk. He trots the air; the earth sings when he touches it;
- the basest horn of his hoof is more musical than the pipe of
- Hermes.
- ORLEANS. He's of the colour of the nutmeg.
- DAUPHIN. And of the heat of the ginger. It is a beast for Perseus:
- he is pure air and fire; and the dull elements of earth and water
- never appear in him, but only in patient stillness while his
- rider mounts him; he is indeed a horse, and all other jades you
- may call beasts.
- CONSTABLE. Indeed, my lord, it is a most absolute and excellent
- horse.
- DAUPHIN. It is the prince of palfreys; his neigh is like the
- bidding of a monarch, and his countenance enforces homage.
- ORLEANS. No more, cousin.
- DAUPHIN. Nay, the man hath no wit that cannot, from the rising of
- the lark to the lodging of the lamb, vary deserved praise on my
- palfrey. It is a theme as fluent as the sea: turn the sands into
- eloquent tongues, and my horse is argument for them all: 'tis a
- subject for a sovereign to reason on, and for a sovereign's
- sovereign to ride on; and for the world- familiar to us and
- unknown- to lay apart their particular functions and wonder at
- him. I once writ a sonnet in his praise and began thus: 'Wonder
- of nature'-
- ORLEANS. I have heard a sonnet begin so to one's mistress.
- DAUPHIN. Then did they imitate that which I compos'd to my courser;
- for my horse is my mistress.
- ORLEANS. Your mistress bears well.
- DAUPHIN. Me well; which is the prescript praise and perfection of a
- good and particular mistress.
- CONSTABLE. Nay, for methought yesterday your mistress shrewdly
- shook your back.
- DAUPHIN. So perhaps did yours.
- CONSTABLE. Mine was not bridled.
- DAUPHIN. O, then belike she was old and gentle; and you rode like a
- kern of Ireland, your French hose off and in your strait
- strossers.
- CONSTABLE. You have good judgment in horsemanship.
- DAUPHIN. Be warn'd by me, then: they that ride so, and ride not
- warily, fall into foul bogs. I had rather have my horse to my
- mistress.
- CONSTABLE. I had as lief have my mistress a jade.
- DAUPHIN. I tell thee, Constable, my mistress wears his own hair.
- CONSTABLE. I could make as true a boast as that, if I had a sow to
- my mistress.
- DAUPHIN. 'Le chien est retourne a son propre vomissement, et la
- truie lavee au bourbier.' Thou mak'st use of anything.
- CONSTABLE. Yet do I not use my horse for my mistress, or any such
- proverb so little kin to the purpose.
- RAMBURES. My Lord Constable, the armour that I saw in your tent
- to-night- are those stars or suns upon it?
- CONSTABLE. Stars, my lord.
- DAUPHIN. Some of them will fall to-morrow, I hope.
- CONSTABLE. And yet my sky shall not want.
- DAUPHIN. That may be, for you bear a many superfluously, and 'twere
- more honour some were away.
- CONSTABLE. Ev'n as your horse bears your praises, who would trot as
- well were some of your brags dismounted.
- DAUPHIN. Would I were able to load him with his desert! Will it
- never be day? I will trot to-morrow a mile, and my way shall be
- paved with English faces.
- CONSTABLE. I will not say so, for fear I should be fac'd out of my
- way; but I would it were morning, for I would fain be about the
- ears of the English.
- RAMBURES. Who will go to hazard with me for twenty prisoners?
- CONSTABLE. You must first go yourself to hazard ere you have them.
- DAUPHIN. 'Tis midnight; I'll go arm myself. Exit
- ORLEANS. The Dauphin longs for morning.
- RAMBURES. He longs to eat the English.
- CONSTABLE. I think he will eat all he kills.
- ORLEANS. By the white hand of my lady, he's a gallant prince.
- CONSTABLE. Swear by her foot, that she may tread out the oath.
- ORLEANS. He is simply the most active gentleman of France.
- CONSTABLE. Doing is activity, and he will still be doing.
- ORLEANS. He never did harm that I heard of.
- CONSTABLE. Nor will do none to-morrow: he will keep that good name
- still.
- ORLEANS. I know him to be valiant.
- CONSTABLE. I was told that by one that knows him better than you.
- ORLEANS. What's he?
- CONSTABLE. Marry, he told me so himself; and he said he car'd not
- who knew it.
- ORLEANS. He needs not; it is no hidden virtue in him.
- CONSTABLE. By my faith, sir, but it is; never anybody saw it but
- his lackey.
- 'Tis a hooded valour, and when it appears it will bate.
- ORLEANS. Ill-wind never said well.
- CONSTABLE. I will cap that proverb with 'There is flattery in
- friendship.'
- ORLEANS. And I will take up that with 'Give the devil his due.'
- CONSTABLE. Well plac'd! There stands your friend for the devil;
- have at the very eye of that proverb with 'A pox of the devil!'
- ORLEANS. You are the better at proverbs by how much 'A fool's bolt
- is soon shot.'
- CONSTABLE. You have shot over.
- ORLEANS. 'Tis not the first time you were overshot.
-
- Enter a MESSENGER
-
- MESSENGER. My Lord High Constable, the English lie within fifteen
- hundred paces of your tents.
- CONSTABLE. Who hath measur'd the ground?
- MESSENGER. The Lord Grandpre.
- CONSTABLE. A valiant and most expert gentleman. Would it were day!
- Alas, poor Harry of England! he longs not for the dawning as we
- do.
- ORLEANS. What a wretched and peevish fellow is this King of
- England, to mope with his fat-brain'd followers so far out of his
- knowledge!
- CONSTABLE. If the English had any apprehension, they would run
- away.
- ORLEANS. That they lack; for if their heads had any intellectual
- armour, they could never wear such heavy head-pieces.
- RAMBURES. That island of England breeds very valiant creatures;
- their mastiffs are of unmatchable courage.
- ORLEANS. Foolish curs, that run winking into the mouth of a Russian
- bear, and have their heads crush'd like rotten apples! You may as
- well say that's a valiant flea that dare eat his breakfast on the
- lip of a lion.
- CONSTABLE. Just, just! and the men do sympathise with the mastiffs
- in robustious and rough coming on, leaving their wits with their
- wives; and then give them great meals of beef and iron and steel;
- they will eat like wolves and fight like devils.
- ORLEANS. Ay, but these English are shrewdly out of beef.
- CONSTABLE. Then shall we find to-morrow they have only stomachs to
- eat, and none to fight. Now is it time to arm. Come, shall we
- about it?
- ORLEANS. It is now two o'clock; but let me see- by ten
- We shall have each a hundred Englishmen. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT IV. PROLOGUE.
-
-Enter CHORUS
-
- CHORUS. Now entertain conjecture of a time
- When creeping murmur and the poring dark
- Fills the wide vessel of the universe.
- From camp to camp, through the foul womb of night,
- The hum of either army stilly sounds,
- That the fix'd sentinels almost receive
- The secret whispers of each other's watch.
- Fire answers fire, and through their paly flames
- Each battle sees the other's umber'd face;
- Steed threatens steed, in high and boastful neighs
- Piercing the night's dull ear; and from the tents
- The armourers accomplishing the knights,
- With busy hammers closing rivets up,
- Give dreadful note of preparation.
- The country cocks do crow, the clocks do ton,
- And the third hour of drowsy morning name.
- Proud of their numbers and secure in soul,
- The confident and over-lusty French
- Do the low-rated English play at dice;
- And chide the cripple tardy-gaited night
- Who like a foul and ugly witch doth limp
- So tediously away. The poor condemned English,
- Like sacrifices, by their watchful fires
- Sit patiently and inly ruminate
- The morning's danger; and their gesture sad
- Investing lank-lean cheeks and war-worn coats
- Presenteth them unto the gazing moon
- So many horrid ghosts. O, now, who will behold
- The royal captain of this ruin'd band
- Walking from watch to watch, from tent to tent,
- Let him cry 'Praise and glory on his head!'
- For forth he goes and visits all his host;
- Bids them good morrow with a modest smile,
- And calls them brothers, friends, and countrymen.
- Upon his royal face there is no note
- How dread an army hath enrounded him;
- Nor doth he dedicate one jot of colour
- Unto the weary and all-watched night;
- But freshly looks, and over-bears attaint
- With cheerful semblance and sweet majesty;
- That every wretch, pining and pale before,
- Beholding him, plucks comfort from his looks;
- A largess universal, like the sun,
- His liberal eye doth give to every one,
- Thawing cold fear, that mean and gentle all
- Behold, as may unworthiness define,
- A little touch of Harry in the night.
- And so our scene must to the battle fly;
- Where- O for pity!- we shall much disgrace
- With four or five most vile and ragged foils,
- Right ill-dispos'd in brawl ridiculous,
- The name of Agincourt. Yet sit and see,
- Minding true things by what their mock'ries be. Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE I.
-France. The English camp at Agincourt
-
-Enter the KING, BEDFORD, and GLOUCESTER
-
- KING HENRY. Gloucester, 'tis true that we are in great danger;
- The greater therefore should our courage be.
- Good morrow, brother Bedford. God Almighty!
- There is some soul of goodness in things evil,
- Would men observingly distil it out;
- For our bad neighbour makes us early stirrers,
- Which is both healthful and good husbandry.
- Besides, they are our outward consciences
- And preachers to us all, admonishing
- That we should dress us fairly for our end.
- Thus may we gather honey from the weed,
- And make a moral of the devil himself.
-
- Enter ERPINGHAM
-
- Good morrow, old Sir Thomas Erpingham:
- A good soft pillow for that good white head
- Were better than a churlish turf of France.
- ERPINGHAM. Not so, my liege; this lodging likes me better,
- Since I may say 'Now lie I like a king.'
- KING HENRY. 'Tis good for men to love their present pains
- Upon example; so the spirit is eased;
- And when the mind is quick'ned, out of doubt
- The organs, though defunct and dead before,
- Break up their drowsy grave and newly move
- With casted slough and fresh legerity.
- Lend me thy cloak, Sir Thomas. Brothers both,
- Commend me to the princes in our camp;
- Do my good morrow to them, and anon
- Desire them all to my pavilion.
- GLOUCESTER. We shall, my liege.
- ERPINGHAM. Shall I attend your Grace?
- KING HENRY. No, my good knight:
- Go with my brothers to my lords of England;
- I and my bosom must debate awhile,
- And then I would no other company.
- ERPINGHAM. The Lord in heaven bless thee, noble Harry!
- Exeunt all but the KING
- KING HENRY. God-a-mercy, old heart! thou speak'st cheerfully.
-
- Enter PISTOL
-
- PISTOL. Qui va la?
- KING HENRY. A friend.
- PISTOL. Discuss unto me: art thou officer,
- Or art thou base, common, and popular?
- KING HENRY. I am a gentleman of a company.
- PISTOL. Trail'st thou the puissant pike?
- KING HENRY. Even so. What are you?
- PISTOL. As good a gentleman as the Emperor.
- KING HENRY. Then you are a better than the King.
- PISTOL. The King's a bawcock and a heart of gold,
- A lad of life, an imp of fame;
- Of parents good, of fist most valiant.
- I kiss his dirty shoe, and from heart-string
- I love the lovely bully. What is thy name?
- KING HENRY. Harry le Roy.
- PISTOL. Le Roy! a Cornish name; art thou of Cornish crew?
- KING HENRY. No, I am a Welshman.
- PISTOL. Know'st thou Fluellen?
- KING HENRY. Yes.
- PISTOL. Tell him I'll knock his leek about his pate
- Upon Saint Davy's day.
- KING HENRY. Do not you wear your dagger in your cap that day, lest
- he knock that about yours.
- PISTOL. Art thou his friend?
- KING HENRY. And his kinsman too.
- PISTOL. The figo for thee, then!
- KING HENRY. I thank you; God be with you!
- PISTOL. My name is Pistol call'd. Exit
- KING HENRY. It sorts well with your fierceness.
-
- Enter FLUELLEN and GOWER
-
- GOWER. Captain Fluellen!
- FLUELLEN. So! in the name of Jesu Christ, speak fewer. It is the
- greatest admiration in the universal world, when the true and
- aunchient prerogatifes and laws of the wars is not kept: if you
- would take the pains but to examine the wars of Pompey the Great,
- you shall find, I warrant you, that there is no tiddle-taddle nor
- pibble-pabble in Pompey's camp; I warrant you, you shall find the
- ceremonies of the wars, and the cares of it, and the forms of it,
- and the sobriety of it, and the modesty of it, to be otherwise.
- GOWER. Why, the enemy is loud; you hear him all night.
- FLUELLEN. If the enemy is an ass, and a fool, and a prating
- coxcomb, is it meet, think you, that we should also, look you, be
- an ass, and a fool, and a prating coxcomb? In your own
- conscience, now?
- GOWER. I will speak lower.
- FLUELLEN. I pray you and beseech you that you will.
- Exeunt GOWER and FLUELLEN
- KING HENRY. Though it appear a little out of fashion,
- There is much care and valour in this Welshman.
-
- Enter three soldiers: JOHN BATES, ALEXANDER COURT,
- and MICHAEL WILLIAMS
-
- COURT. Brother John Bates, is not that the morning which breaks
- yonder?
- BATES. I think it be; but we have no great cause to desire the
- approach of day.
- WILLIAMS. We see yonder the beginning of the day, but I think we
- shall never see the end of it. Who goes there?
- KING HENRY. A friend.
- WILLIAMS. Under what captain serve you?
- KING HENRY. Under Sir Thomas Erpingham.
- WILLIAMS. A good old commander and a most kind gentleman. I pray
- you, what thinks he of our estate?
- KING HENRY. Even as men wreck'd upon a sand, that look to be wash'd
- off the next tide.
- BATES. He hath not told his thought to the King?
- KING HENRY. No; nor it is not meet he should. For though I speak it
- to you, I think the King is but a man as I am: the violet smells
- to him as it doth to me; the element shows to him as it doth to
- me; all his senses have but human conditions; his ceremonies laid
- by, in his nakedness he appears but a man; and though his
- affections are higher mounted than ours, yet, when they stoop,
- they stoop with the like wing. Therefore, when he sees reason of
- fears, as we do, his fears, out of doubt, be of the same relish
- as ours are; yet, in reason, no man should possess him with any
- appearance of fear, lest he, by showing it, should dishearten his
- army.
- BATES. He may show what outward courage he will; but I believe, as
- cold a night as 'tis, he could wish himself in Thames up to the
- neck; and so I would he were, and I by him, at all adventures, so
- we were quit here.
- KING HENRY. By my troth, I will speak my conscience of the King: I
- think he would not wish himself anywhere but where he is.
- BATES. Then I would he were here alone; so should he be sure to be
- ransomed, and a many poor men's lives saved.
- KING HENRY. I dare say you love him not so ill to wish him here
- alone, howsoever you speak this, to feel other men's minds;
- methinks I could not die anywhere so contented as in the King's
- company, his cause being just and his quarrel honourable.
- WILLIAMS. That's more than we know.
- BATES. Ay, or more than we should seek after; for we know enough if
- we know we are the King's subjects. If his cause be wrong, our
- obedience to the King wipes the crime of it out of us.
- WILLIAMS. But if the cause be not good, the King himself hath a
- heavy reckoning to make when all those legs and arms and heads,
- chopp'd off in a battle, shall join together at the latter day
- and cry all 'We died at such a place'- some swearing, some crying
- for a surgeon, some upon their wives left poor behind them, some
- upon the debts they owe, some upon their children rawly left. I
- am afeard there are few die well that die in a battle; for how
- can they charitably dispose of anything when blood is their
- argument? Now, if these men do not die well, it will be a black
- matter for the King that led them to it; who to disobey were
- against all proportion of subjection.
- KING HENRY. So, if a son that is by his father sent about
- merchandise do sinfully miscarry upon the sea, the imputation of
- his wickedness, by your rule, should be imposed upon his father
- that sent him; or if a servant, under his master's command
- transporting a sum of money, be assailed by robbers and die in
- many irreconcil'd iniquities, you may call the business of the
- master the author of the servant's damnation. But this is not so:
- the King is not bound to answer the particular endings of his
- soldiers, the father of his son, nor the master of his servant;
- for they purpose not their death when they purpose their
- services. Besides, there is no king, be his cause never so
- spotless, if it come to the arbitrement of swords, can try it out
- with all unspotted soldiers: some peradventure have on them the
- guilt of premeditated and contrived murder; some, of beguiling
- virgins with the broken seals of perjury; some, making the wars
- their bulwark, that have before gored the gentle bosom of peace
- with pillage and robbery. Now, if these men have defeated the law
- and outrun native punishment, though they can outstrip men they
- have no wings to fly from God: war is His beadle, war is His
- vengeance; so that here men are punish'd for before-breach of the
- King's laws in now the King's quarrel. Where they feared the
- death they have borne life away; and where they would be safe
- they perish. Then if they die unprovided, no more is the King
- guilty of their damnation than he was before guilty of those
- impieties for the which they are now visited. Every subject's
- duty is the King's; but every subject's soul is his own.
- Therefore should every soldier in the wars do as every sick man
- in his bed- wash every mote out of his conscience; and dying so,
- death is to him advantage; or not dying, the time was blessedly
- lost wherein such preparation was gained; and in him that escapes
- it were not sin to think that, making God so free an offer, He
- let him outlive that day to see His greatness, and to teach
- others how they should prepare.
- WILLIAMS. 'Tis certain, every man that dies ill, the ill upon his
- own head- the King is not to answer for it.
- BATES. I do not desire he should answer for me, and yet I determine
- to fight lustily for him.
- KING HENRY. I myself heard the King say he would not be ransom'd.
- WILLIAMS. Ay, he said so, to make us fight cheerfully; but when our
- throats are cut he may be ransom'd, and we ne'er the wiser.
- KING HENRY. If I live to see it, I will never trust his word after.
- WILLIAMS. You pay him then! That's a perilous shot out of an
- elder-gun, that a poor and a private displeasure can do against a
- monarch! You may as well go about to turn the sun to ice with
- fanning in his face with a peacock's feather. You'll never trust
- his word after! Come, 'tis a foolish saying.
- KING HENRY. Your reproof is something too round; I should be angry
- with you, if the time were convenient.
- WILLIAMS. Let it be a quarrel between us if you live.
- KING HENRY. I embrace it.
- WILLIAMS. How shall I know thee again?
- KING HENRY. Give me any gage of thine, and I will wear it in my
- bonnet; then if ever thou dar'st acknowledge it, I will make it
- my quarrel.
- WILLIAMS. Here's my glove; give me another of thine.
- KING HENRY. There.
- WILLIAMS. This will I also wear in my cap; if ever thou come to me
- and say, after to-morrow, 'This is my glove,' by this hand I will
- take thee a box on the ear.
- KING HENRY. If ever I live to see it, I will challenge it.
- WILLIAMS. Thou dar'st as well be hang'd.
- KING HENRY. Well, I will do it, though I take thee in the King's
- company.
- WILLIAMS. Keep thy word. Fare thee well.
- BATES. Be friends, you English fools, be friends; we have
- French quarrels enow, if you could tell how to reckon.
- KING HENRY. Indeed, the French may lay twenty French crowns to one
- they will beat us, for they bear them on their shoulders; but it
- is no English treason to cut French crowns, and to-morrow the
- King himself will be a clipper.
- Exeunt soldiers
- Upon the King! Let us our lives, our souls,
- Our debts, our careful wives,
- Our children, and our sins, lay on the King!
- We must bear all. O hard condition,
- Twin-born with greatness, subject to the breath
- Of every fool, whose sense no more can feel
- But his own wringing! What infinite heart's ease
- Must kings neglect that private men enjoy!
- And what have kings that privates have not too,
- Save ceremony- save general ceremony?
- And what art thou, thou idol Ceremony?
- What kind of god art thou, that suffer'st more
- Of mortal griefs than do thy worshippers?
- What are thy rents? What are thy comings-in?
- O Ceremony, show me but thy worth!
- What is thy soul of adoration?
- Art thou aught else but place, degree, and form,
- Creating awe and fear in other men?
- Wherein thou art less happy being fear'd
- Than they in fearing.
- What drink'st thou oft, instead of homage sweet,
- But poison'd flattery? O, be sick, great greatness,
- And bid thy ceremony give thee cure!
- Thinks thou the fiery fever will go out
- With titles blown from adulation?
- Will it give place to flexure and low bending?
- Canst thou, when thou command'st the beggar's knee,
- Command the health of it? No, thou proud dream,
- That play'st so subtly with a king's repose.
- I am a king that find thee; and I know
- 'Tis not the balm, the sceptre, and the ball,
- The sword, the mace, the crown imperial,
- The intertissued robe of gold and pearl,
- The farced tide running fore the king,
- The throne he sits on, nor the tide of pomp
- That beats upon the high shore of this world-
- No, not all these, thrice gorgeous ceremony,
- Not all these, laid in bed majestical,
- Can sleep so soundly as the wretched slave
- Who, with a body fill'd and vacant mind,
- Gets him to rest, cramm'd with distressful bread;
- Never sees horrid night, the child of hell;
- But, like a lackey, from the rise to set
- Sweats in the eye of Pheebus, and all night
- Sleeps in Elysium; next day, after dawn,
- Doth rise and help Hyperion to his horse;
- And follows so the ever-running year
- With profitable labour, to his grave.
- And but for ceremony, such a wretch,
- Winding up days with toil and nights with sleep,
- Had the fore-hand and vantage of a king.
- The slave, a member of the country's peace,
- Enjoys it; but in gross brain little wots
- What watch the king keeps to maintain the peace
- Whose hours the peasant best advantages.
-
- Enter ERPINGHAM
-
- ERPINGHAM. My lord, your nobles, jealous of your absence,
- Seek through your camp to find you.
- KING. Good old knight,
- Collect them all together at my tent:
- I'll be before thee.
- ERPINGHAM. I shall do't, my lord. Exit
- KING. O God of battles, steel my soldiers' hearts,
- Possess them not with fear! Take from them now
- The sense of reck'ning, if th' opposed numbers
- Pluck their hearts from them! Not to-day, O Lord,
- O, not to-day, think not upon the fault
- My father made in compassing the crown!
- I Richard's body have interred new,
- And on it have bestowed more contrite tears
- Than from it issued forced drops of blood;
- Five hundred poor I have in yearly pay,
- Who twice a day their wither'd hands hold up
- Toward heaven, to pardon blood; and I have built
- Two chantries, where the sad and solemn priests
- Sing still for Richard's soul. More will I do;
- Though all that I can do is nothing worth,
- Since that my penitence comes after all,
- Imploring pardon.
-
- Enter GLOUCESTER
-
- GLOUCESTER. My liege!
- KING HENRY. My brother Gloucester's voice? Ay;
- I know thy errand, I will go with thee;
- The day, my friends, and all things, stay for me. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-The French camp
-
-Enter the DAUPHIN, ORLEANS, RAMBURES, and others
-
- ORLEANS. The sun doth gild our armour; up, my lords!
- DAUPHIN. Montez a cheval! My horse! Varlet, laquais! Ha!
- ORLEANS. O brave spirit!
- DAUPHIN. Via! Les eaux et la terre-
- ORLEANS. Rien puis? L'air et le feu.
- DAUPHIN. Ciel! cousin Orleans.
-
- Enter CONSTABLE
-
- Now, my Lord Constable!
- CONSTABLE. Hark how our steeds for present service neigh!
- DAUPHIN. Mount them, and make incision in their hides,
- That their hot blood may spin in English eyes,
- And dout them with superfluous courage, ha!
- RAMBURES. What, will you have them weep our horses' blood?
- How shall we then behold their natural tears?
-
- Enter a MESSENGER
-
- MESSENGER. The English are embattl'd, you French peers.
- CONSTABLE. To horse, you gallant Princes! straight to horse!
- Do but behold yon poor and starved band,
- And your fair show shall suck away their souls,
- Leaving them but the shales and husks of men.
- There is not work enough for all our hands;
- Scarce blood enough in all their sickly veins
- To give each naked curtle-axe a stain
- That our French gallants shall to-day draw out,
- And sheathe for lack of sport. Let us but blow on them,
- The vapour of our valour will o'erturn them.
- 'Tis positive 'gainst all exceptions, lords,
- That our superfluous lackeys and our peasants-
- Who in unnecessary action swarm
- About our squares of battle- were enow
- To purge this field of, such a hilding foe;
- Though we upon this mountain's basis by
- Took stand for idle speculation-
- But that our honours must not. What's to say?
- A very little little let us do,
- And all is done. Then let the trumpets sound
- The tucket sonance and the note to mount;
- For our approach shall so much dare the field
- That England shall couch down in fear and yield.
-
- Enter GRANDPRE
-
- GRANDPRE. Why do you stay so long, my lords of France?
- Yond island carrions, desperate of their bones,
- Ill-favouredly become the morning field;
- Their ragged curtains poorly are let loose,
- And our air shakes them passing scornfully;
- Big Mars seems bankrupt in their beggar'd host,
- And faintly through a rusty beaver peeps.
- The horsemen sit like fixed candlesticks
- With torch-staves in their hand; and their poor jades
- Lob down their heads, dropping the hides and hips,
- The gum down-roping from their pale-dead eyes,
- And in their pale dull mouths the gimmal'd bit
- Lies foul with chaw'd grass, still and motionless;
- And their executors, the knavish crows,
- Fly o'er them, all impatient for their hour.
- Description cannot suit itself in words
- To demonstrate the life of such a battle
- In life so lifeless as it shows itself.
- CONSTABLE. They have said their prayers and they stay for death.
- DAUPHIN. Shall we go send them dinners and fresh suits,
- And give their fasting horses provender,
- And after fight with them?
- CONSTABLE. I stay but for my guidon. To the field!
- I will the banner from a trumpet take,
- And use it for my haste. Come, come, away!
- The sun is high, and we outwear the day. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-The English camp
-
-Enter GLOUCESTER, BEDFORD, EXETER, ERPINGHAM, with all his host;
-SALISBURY and WESTMORELAND
-
- GLOUCESTER. Where is the King?
- BEDFORD. The King himself is rode to view their battle.
- WESTMORELAND. Of fighting men they have full three-score thousand.
- EXETER. There's five to one; besides, they all are fresh.
- SALISBURY. God's arm strike with us! 'tis a fearful odds.
- God bye you, Princes all; I'll to my charge.
- If we no more meet till we meet in heaven,
- Then joyfully, my noble Lord of Bedford,
- My dear Lord Gloucester, and my good Lord Exeter,
- And my kind kinsman- warriors all, adieu!
- BEDFORD. Farewell, good Salisbury; and good luck go with thee!
- EXETER. Farewell, kind lord. Fight valiantly to-day;
- And yet I do thee wrong to mind thee of it,
- For thou art fram'd of the firm truth of valour.
- Exit SALISBURY
- BEDFORD. He is as full of valour as of kindness;
- Princely in both.
-
- Enter the KING
-
- WESTMORELAND. O that we now had here
- But one ten thousand of those men in England
- That do no work to-day!
- KING. What's he that wishes so?
- My cousin Westmoreland? No, my fair cousin;
- If we are mark'd to die, we are enow
- To do our country loss; and if to live,
- The fewer men, the greater share of honour.
- God's will! I pray thee, wish not one man more.
- By Jove, I am not covetous for gold,
- Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost;
- It yearns me not if men my garments wear;
- Such outward things dwell not in my desires.
- But if it be a sin to covet honour,
- I am the most offending soul alive.
- No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England.
- God's peace! I would not lose so great an honour
- As one man more methinks would share from me
- For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more!
- Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host,
- That he which hath no stomach to this fight,
- Let him depart; his passport shall be made,
- And crowns for convoy put into his purse;
- We would not die in that man's company
- That fears his fellowship to die with us.
- This day is call'd the feast of Crispian.
- He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
- Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam'd,
- And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
- He that shall live this day, and see old age,
- Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
- And say 'To-morrow is Saint Crispian.'
- Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,
- And say 'These wounds I had on Crispian's day.'
- Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,
- But he'll remember, with advantages,
- What feats he did that day. Then shall our names,
- Familiar in his mouth as household words-
- Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,
- Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester-
- Be in their flowing cups freshly rememb'red.
- This story shall the good man teach his son;
- And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,
- From this day to the ending of the world,
- But we in it shall be remembered-
- We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
- For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
- Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
- This day shall gentle his condition;
- And gentlemen in England now-a-bed
- Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here,
- And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
- That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.
-
- Re-enter SALISBURY
-
- SALISBURY. My sovereign lord, bestow yourself with speed:
- The French are bravely in their battles set,
- And will with all expedience charge on us.
- KING HENRY. All things are ready, if our minds be so.
- WESTMORELAND. Perish the man whose mind is backward now!
- KING HENRY. Thou dost not wish more help from England, coz?
- WESTMORELAND. God's will, my liege! would you and I alone,
- Without more help, could fight this royal battle!
- KING HENRY. Why, now thou hast unwish'd five thousand men;
- Which likes me better than to wish us one.
- You know your places. God be with you all!
-
- Tucket. Enter MONTJOY
-
- MONTJOY. Once more I come to know of thee, King Harry,
- If for thy ransom thou wilt now compound,
- Before thy most assured overthrow;
- For certainly thou art so near the gulf
- Thou needs must be englutted. Besides, in mercy,
- The constable desires thee thou wilt mind
- Thy followers of repentance, that their souls
- May make a peaceful and a sweet retire
- From off these fields, where, wretches, their poor bodies
- Must lie and fester.
- KING HENRY. Who hath sent thee now?
- MONTJOY. The Constable of France.
- KING HENRY. I pray thee bear my former answer back:
- Bid them achieve me, and then sell my bones.
- Good God! why should they mock poor fellows thus?
- The man that once did sell the lion's skin
- While the beast liv'd was kill'd with hunting him.
- A many of our bodies shall no doubt
- Find native graves; upon the which, I trust,
- Shall witness live in brass of this day's work.
- And those that leave their valiant bones in France,
- Dying like men, though buried in your dunghills,
- They shall be fam'd; for there the sun shall greet them
- And draw their honours reeking up to heaven,
- Leaving their earthly parts to choke your clime,
- The smell whereof shall breed a plague in France.
- Mark then abounding valour in our English,
- That, being dead, like to the bullet's grazing
- Break out into a second course of mischief,
- Killing in relapse of mortality.
- Let me speak proudly: tell the Constable
- We are but warriors for the working-day;
- Our gayness and our gilt are all besmirch'd
- With rainy marching in the painful field;
- There's not a piece of feather in our host-
- Good argument, I hope, we will not fly-
- And time hath worn us into slovenry.
- But, by the mass, our hearts are in the trim;
- And my poor soldiers tell me yet ere night
- They'll be in fresher robes, or they will pluck
- The gay new coats o'er the French soldiers' heads
- And turn them out of service. If they do this-
- As, if God please, they shall- my ransom then
- Will soon be levied. Herald, save thou thy labour;
- Come thou no more for ransom, gentle herald;
- They shall have none, I swear, but these my joints;
- Which if they have, as I will leave 'em them,
- Shall yield them little, tell the Constable.
- MONTJOY. I shall, King Harry. And so fare thee well:
- Thou never shalt hear herald any more. Exit
- KING HENRY. I fear thou wilt once more come again for a ransom.
-
- Enter the DUKE OF YORK
-
- YORK. My lord, most humbly on my knee I beg
- The leading of the vaward.
- KING HENRY. Take it, brave York. Now, soldiers, march away;
- And how thou pleasest, God, dispose the day! Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE IV.
-The field of battle
-
-Alarum. Excursions. Enter FRENCH SOLDIER, PISTOL, and BOY
-
- PISTOL. Yield, cur!
- FRENCH SOLDIER. Je pense que vous etes le gentilhomme de bonne
- qualite.
- PISTOL. Cality! Calen o custure me! Art thou a gentleman?
- What is thy name? Discuss.
- FRENCH SOLDIER. O Seigneur Dieu!
- PISTOL. O, Signieur Dew should be a gentleman.
- Perpend my words, O Signieur Dew, and mark:
- O Signieur Dew, thou diest on point of fox,
- Except, O Signieur, thou do give to me
- Egregious ransom.
- FRENCH SOLDIER. O, prenez misericorde; ayez pitie de moi!
- PISTOL. Moy shall not serve; I will have forty moys;
- Or I will fetch thy rim out at thy throat
- In drops of crimson blood.
- FRENCH SOLDIER. Est-il impossible d'echapper la force de ton bras?
- PISTOL. Brass, cur?
- Thou damned and luxurious mountain-goat,
- Offer'st me brass?
- FRENCH SOLDIER. O, pardonnez-moi!
- PISTOL. Say'st thou me so? Is that a ton of moys?
- Come hither, boy; ask me this slave in French
- What is his name.
- BOY. Ecoutez: comment etes-vous appele?
- FRENCH SOLDIER. Monsieur le Fer.
- BOY. He says his name is Master Fer.
- PISTOL. Master Fer! I'll fer him, and firk him, and ferret him-
- discuss the same in French unto him.
- BOY. I do not know the French for fer, and ferret, and firk.
- PISTOL. Bid him prepare; for I will cut his throat.
- FRENCH SOLDIER. Que dit-il, monsieur?
- BOY. Il me commande a vous dire que vous faites vous pret; car ce
- soldat ici est dispose tout a cette heure de couper votre gorge.
- PISTOL. Owy, cuppele gorge, permafoy!
- Peasant, unless thou give me crowns, brave crowns;
- Or mangled shalt thou be by this my sword.
- FRENCH SOLDIER. O, je vous supplie, pour l'amour de Dieu, me
- pardonner! Je suis gentilhomme de bonne maison. Gardez ma vie, et
- je vous donnerai deux cents ecus.
- PISTOL. What are his words?
- BOY. He prays you to save his life; he is a gentleman of a good
- house, and for his ransom he will give you two hundred crowns.
- PISTOL. Tell him my fury shall abate, and I
- The crowns will take.
- FRENCH SOLDIER. Petit monsieur, que dit-il?
- BOY. Encore qu'il est contre son jurement de pardonner aucun
- prisonnier, neamnoins, pour les ecus que vous l'avez promis, il
- est content a vous donner la liberte, le franchisement.
- FRENCH SOLDIER. Sur mes genoux je vous donne mille remercimens; et
- je m'estime heureux que je suis tombe entre les mains d'un
- chevalier, je pense, le plus brave, vaillant, et tres distingue
- seigneur d'Angleterre.
- PISTOL. Expound unto me, boy.
- BOY. He gives you, upon his knees, a thousand thanks; and he
- esteems himself happy that he hath fall'n into the hands of one-
- as he thinks- the most brave, valorous, and thrice-worthy
- signieur of England.
- PISTOL. As I suck blood, I will some mercy show.
- Follow me. Exit
- BOY. Suivez-vous le grand capitaine. Exit FRENCH SOLDIER
- I did never know so full a voice issue from so empty a heart; but
- the saying is true- the empty vessel makes the greatest sound.
- Bardolph and Nym had ten times more valour than this roaring
- devil i' th' old play, that every one may pare his nails with a
- wooden dagger; and they are both hang'd; and so would this be, if
- he durst steal anything adventurously. I must stay with the
- lackeys, with the luggage of our camp. The French might have a
- good prey of us, if he knew of it; for there is none to guard it
- but boys. Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE V.
-Another part of the field of battle
-
-Enter CONSTABLE, ORLEANS, BOURBON, DAUPHIN, and RAMBURES
-
- CONSTABLE. O diable!
- ORLEANS. O Seigneur! le jour est perdu, tout est perdu!
- DAUPHIN. Mort Dieu, ma vie! all is confounded, all!
- Reproach and everlasting shame
- Sits mocking in our plumes. [A short alarum]
- O mechante fortune! Do not run away.
- CONSTABLE. Why, an our ranks are broke.
- DAUPHIN. O perdurable shame! Let's stab ourselves.
- Be these the wretches that we play'd at dice for?
- ORLEANS. Is this the king we sent to for his ransom?
- BOURBON. Shame, and eternal shame, nothing but shame!
- Let us die in honour: once more back again;
- And he that will not follow Bourbon now,
- Let him go hence and, with his cap in hand
- Like a base pander, hold the chamber-door
- Whilst by a slave, no gender than my dog,
- His fairest daughter is contaminated.
- CONSTABLE. Disorder, that hath spoil'd us, friend us now!
- Let us on heaps go offer up our lives.
- ORLEANS. We are enow yet living in the field
- To smother up the English in our throngs,
- If any order might be thought upon.
- BOURBON. The devil take order now! I'll to the throng.
- Let life be short, else shame will be too long. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE VI.
-Another part of the field
-
-Alarum. Enter the KING and his train, with prisoners; EXETER, and others
-
- KING HENRY. Well have we done, thrice-valiant countrymen;
- But all's not done- yet keep the French the field.
- EXETER. The Duke of York commends him to your Majesty.
- KING HENRY. Lives he, good uncle? Thrice within this hour
- I saw him down; thrice up again, and fighting;
- From helmet to the spur all blood he was.
- EXETER. In which array, brave soldier, doth he lie
- Larding the plain; and by his bloody side,
- Yoke-fellow to his honour-owing wounds,
- The noble Earl of Suffolk also lies.
- Suffolk first died; and York, all haggled over,
- Comes to him, where in gore he lay insteeped,
- And takes him by the beard, kisses the gashes
- That bloodily did yawn upon his face,
- He cries aloud 'Tarry, my cousin Suffolk.
- My soul shall thine keep company to heaven;
- Tarry, sweet soul, for mine, then fly abreast;
- As in this glorious and well-foughten field
- We kept together in our chivalry.'
- Upon these words I came and cheer'd him up;
- He smil'd me in the face, raught me his hand,
- And, with a feeble grip, says 'Dear my lord,
- Commend my service to my sovereign.'
- So did he turn, and over Suffolk's neck
- He threw his wounded arm and kiss'd his lips;
- And so, espous'd to death, with blood he seal'd
- A testament of noble-ending love.
- The pretty and sweet manner of it forc'd
- Those waters from me which I would have stopp'd;
- But I had not so much of man in me,
- And all my mother came into mine eyes
- And gave me up to tears.
- KING HENRY. I blame you not;
- For, hearing this, I must perforce compound
- With mistful eyes, or they will issue too. [Alarum]
- But hark! what new alarum is this same?
- The French have reinforc'd their scatter'd men.
- Then every soldier kill his prisoners;
- Give the word through. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE VII.
-Another part of the field
-
-Enter FLUELLEN and GOWER
-
- FLUELLEN. Kill the poys and the luggage! 'Tis expressly against the
- law of arms; 'tis as arrant a piece of knavery, mark you now, as
- can be offert; in your conscience, now, is it not?
- GOWER. 'Tis certain there's not a boy left alive; and the cowardly
- rascals that ran from the battle ha' done this slaughter;
- besides, they have burned and carried away all that was in the
- King's tent; wherefore the King most worthily hath caus'd every
- soldier to cut his prisoner's throat. O, 'tis a gallant King!
- FLUELLEN. Ay, he was porn at Monmouth, Captain Gower. What call you
- the town's name where Alexander the Pig was born?
- GOWER. Alexander the Great.
- FLUELLEN. Why, I pray you, is not 'pig' great? The pig, or great,
- or the mighty, or the huge, or the magnanimous, are all one
- reckonings, save the phrase is a little variations.
- GOWER. I think Alexander the Great was born in Macedon; his father
- was called Philip of Macedon, as I take it.
- FLUELLEN. I think it is in Macedon where Alexander is porn. I tell
- you, Captain, if you look in the maps of the 'orld, I warrant you
- sall find, in the comparisons between Macedon and Monmouth, that
- the situations, look you, is both alike. There is a river in
- Macedon; and there is also moreover a river at Monmouth; it is
- call'd Wye at Monmouth, but it is out of my prains what is the
- name of the other river; but 'tis all one, 'tis alike as my
- fingers is to my fingers, and there is salmons in both. If you
- mark Alexander's life well, Harry of Monmouth's life is come
- after it indifferent well; for there is figures in all things.
- Alexander- God knows, and you know- in his rages, and his furies,
- and his wraths, and his cholers, and his moods, and his
- displeasures, and his indignations, and also being a little
- intoxicates in his prains, did, in his ales and his angers, look
- you, kill his best friend, Cleitus.
- GOWER. Our king is not like him in that: he never kill'd any of his
- friends.
- FLUELLEN. It is not well done, mark you now, to take the tales out
- of my mouth ere it is made and finished. I speak but in the
- figures and comparisons of it; as Alexander kill'd his friend
- Cleitus, being in his ales and his cups, so also Harry Monmouth,
- being in his right wits and his good judgments, turn'd away the
- fat knight with the great belly doublet; he was full of jests,
- and gipes, and knaveries, and mocks; I have forgot his name.
- GOWER. Sir John Falstaff.
- FLUELLEN. That is he. I'll tell you there is good men porn at
- Monmouth.
- GOWER. Here comes his Majesty.
-
- Alarum. Enter the KING, WARWICK, GLOUCESTER,
- EXETER, and others, with prisoners. Flourish
-
- KING HENRY. I was not angry since I came to France
- Until this instant. Take a trumpet, herald,
- Ride thou unto the horsemen on yond hill;
- If they will fight with us, bid them come down
- Or void the field; they do offend our sight.
- If they'll do neither, we will come to them
- And make them skirr away as swift as stones
- Enforced from the old Assyrian slings;
- Besides, we'll cut the throats of those we have,
- And not a man of them that we shall take
- Shall taste our mercy. Go and tell them so.
-
- Enter MONTJOY
-
- EXETER. Here comes the herald of the French, my liege.
- GLOUCESTER. His eyes are humbler than they us'd to be.
- KING HENRY. How now! What means this, herald? know'st thou not
- That I have fin'd these bones of mine for ransom?
- Com'st thou again for ransom?
- MONTJOY. No, great King;
- I come to thee for charitable licence,
- That we may wander o'er this bloody field
- To book our dead, and then to bury them;
- To sort our nobles from our common men;
- For many of our princes- woe the while!-
- Lie drown'd and soak'd in mercenary blood;
- So do our vulgar drench their peasant limbs
- In blood of princes; and their wounded steeds
- Fret fetlock deep in gore, and with wild rage
- Yerk out their armed heels at their dead masters,
- Killing them twice. O, give us leave, great King,
- To view the field in safety, and dispose
- Of their dead bodies!
- KING HENRY. I tell thee truly, herald,
- I know not if the day be ours or no;
- For yet a many of your horsemen peer
- And gallop o'er the field.
- MONTJOY. The day is yours.
- KING HENRY. Praised be God, and not our strength, for it!
- What is this castle call'd that stands hard by?
- MONTJOY. They call it Agincourt.
- KING HENRY. Then call we this the field of Agincourt,
- Fought on the day of Crispin Crispianus.
- FLUELLEN. Your grandfather of famous memory, an't please your
- Majesty, and your great-uncle Edward the Plack Prince of Wales,
- as I have read in the chronicles, fought a most prave pattle here
- in France.
- KING HENRY. They did, Fluellen.
- FLUELLEN. Your Majesty says very true; if your Majesties is
- rememb'red of it, the Welshmen did good service in garden where
- leeks did grow, wearing leeks in their Monmouth caps; which your
- Majesty know to this hour is an honourable badge of the service;
- and I do believe your Majesty takes no scorn to wear the leek
- upon Saint Tavy's day.
- KING HENRY. I wear it for a memorable honour;
- For I am Welsh, you know, good countryman.
- FLUELLEN. All the water in Wye cannot wash your Majesty's Welsh
- plood out of your pody, I can tell you that. Got pless it and
- preserve it as long as it pleases his Grace and his Majesty too!
- KING HENRY. Thanks, good my countryman.
- FLUELLEN. By Jeshu, I am your Majesty's countryman, care not who
- know it; I will confess it to all the 'orld: I need not be
- asham'd of your Majesty, praised be Got, so long as your Majesty
- is an honest man.
-
- Enter WILLIAMS
-
- KING HENRY. God keep me so! Our heralds go with him:
- Bring me just notice of the numbers dead
- On both our parts. Call yonder fellow hither.
- Exeunt heralds with MONTJOY
- EXETER. Soldier, you must come to the King.
- KING HENRY. Soldier, why wear'st thou that glove in thy cap?
- WILLIAMS. An't please your Majesty, 'tis the gage of one that I
- should fight withal, if he be alive.
- KING HENRY. An Englishman?
- WILLIAMS. An't please your Majesty, a rascal that swagger'd with me
- last night; who, if 'a live and ever dare to challenge this
- glove, I have sworn to take him a box o' th' ear; or if I can see
- my glove in his cap- which he swore, as he was a soldier, he
- would wear if alive- I will strike it out soundly.
- KING HENRY. What think you, Captain Fluellen, is it fit this
- soldier keep his oath?
- FLUELLEN. He is a craven and a villain else, an't please your
- Majesty, in my conscience.
- KING HENRY. It may be his enemy is a gentlemen of great sort, quite
- from the answer of his degree.
- FLUELLEN. Though he be as good a gentleman as the Devil is, as
- Lucifier and Belzebub himself, it is necessary, look your Grace,
- that he keep his vow and his oath; if he be perjur'd, see you
- now, his reputation is as arrant a villain and a Jacksauce as
- ever his black shoe trod upon God's ground and his earth, in my
- conscience, la.
- KING HENRY. Then keep thy vow, sirrah, when thou meet'st the
- fellow.
- WILLIAMS. So I Will, my liege, as I live.
- KING HENRY. Who serv'st thou under?
- WILLIAMS. Under Captain Gower, my liege.
- FLUELLEN. Gower is a good captain, and is good knowledge and
- literatured in the wars.
- KING HENRY. Call him hither to me, soldier.
- WILLIAMS. I will, my liege. Exit
- KING HENRY. Here, Fluellen; wear thou this favour for me, and stick
- it in thy cap; when Alencon and myself were down together, I
- pluck'd this glove from his helm. If any man challenge this, he
- is a friend to Alencon and an enemy to our person; if thou
- encounter any such, apprehend him, an thou dost me love.
- FLUELLEN. Your Grace does me as great honours as can be desir'd in
- the hearts of his subjects. I would fain see the man that has but
- two legs that shall find himself aggrief'd at this glove, that is
- all; but I would fain see it once, an please God of his grace
- that I might see.
- KING HENRY. Know'st thou Gower?
- FLUELLEN. He is my dear friend, an please you.
- KING HENRY. Pray thee, go seek him, and bring him to my tent.
- FLUELLEN. I will fetch him. Exit
- KING HENRY. My Lord of Warwick and my brother Gloucester,
- Follow Fluellen closely at the heels;
- The glove which I have given him for a favour
- May haply purchase him a box o' th' ear.
- It is the soldier's: I, by bargain, should
- Wear it myself. Follow, good cousin Warwick;
- If that the soldier strike him, as I judge
- By his blunt bearing he will keep his word,
- Some sudden mischief may arise of it;
- For I do know Fluellen valiant,
- And touch'd with choler, hot as gunpowder,
- And quickly will return an injury;
- Follow, and see there be no harm between them.
- Go you with me, uncle of Exeter. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE VIII.
-Before KING HENRY'S PAVILION
-
-Enter GOWER and WILLIAMS
-
- WILLIAMS. I warrant it is to knight you, Captain.
-
- Enter FLUELLEN
-
- FLUELLEN. God's will and his pleasure, Captain, I beseech you now,
- come apace to the King: there is more good toward you
- peradventure than is in your knowledge to dream of.
- WILLIAMS. Sir, know you this glove?
- FLUELLEN. Know the glove? I know the glove is a glove.
- WILLIAMS. I know this; and thus I challenge it. [Strikes him]
- FLUELLEN. 'Sblood, an arrant traitor as any's in the universal
- world, or in France, or in England!
- GOWER. How now, sir! you villain!
- WILLIAMS. Do you think I'll be forsworn?
- FLUELLEN. Stand away, Captain Gower; I will give treason his
- payment into plows, I warrant you.
- WILLIAMS. I am no traitor.
- FLUELLEN. That's a lie in thy throat. I charge you in his Majesty's
- name, apprehend him: he's a friend of the Duke Alencon's.
-
- Enter WARWICK and GLOUCESTER
-
- WARWICK. How now! how now! what's the matter?
- FLUELLEN. My Lord of Warwick, here is- praised be God for it!- a
- most contagious treason come to light, look you, as you shall
- desire in a summer's day. Here is his Majesty.
-
- Enter the KING and EXETER
-
- KING HENRY. How now! what's the matter?
- FLUELLEN. My liege, here is a villain and a traitor, that, look
- your Grace, has struck the glove which your Majesty is take out
- of the helmet of Alencon.
- WILLIAMS. My liege, this was my glove: here is the fellow of it;
- and he that I gave it to in change promis'd to wear it in his
- cap; I promis'd to strike him if he did; I met this man with my
- glove in his cap, and I have been as good as my word.
- FLUELLEN. Your Majesty hear now, saving your Majesty's manhood,
- what an arrant, rascally, beggarly, lousy knave it is; I hope
- your Majesty is pear me testimony and witness, and will
- avouchment, that this is the glove of Alencon that your Majesty
- is give me; in your conscience, now.
- KING HENRY. Give me thy glove, soldier; look, here is the fellow of
- it.
- 'Twas I, indeed, thou promised'st to strike,
- And thou hast given me most bitter terms.
- FLUELLEN. An please your Majesty, let his neck answer for it, if
- there is any martial law in the world.
- KING HENRY. How canst thou make me satisfaction?
- WILLIAMS. All offences, my lord, come from the heart; never came
- any from mine that might offend your Majesty.
- KING HENRY. It was ourself thou didst abuse.
- WILLIAMS. Your Majesty came not like yourself: you appear'd to me
- but as a common man; witness the night, your garments, your
- lowliness; and what your Highness suffer'd under that shape I
- beseech you take it for your own fault, and not mine; for had you
- been as I took you for, I made no offence; therefore, I beseech
- your Highness pardon me.
- KING HENRY. Here, uncle Exeter, fill this glove with crowns,
- And give it to this fellow. Keep it, fellow;
- And wear it for an honour in thy cap
- Till I do challenge it. Give him the crowns;
- And, Captain, you must needs be friends with him.
- FLUELLEN. By this day and this light, the fellow has mettle enough
- in his belly: hold, there is twelve pence for you; and I pray you
- to serve God, and keep you out of prawls, and prabbles, and
- quarrels, and dissensions, and, I warrant you, it is the better
- for you.
- WILLIAMS. I will none of your money.
- FLUELLEN. It is with a good will; I can tell you it will serve you
- to mend your shoes. Come, wherefore should you be so pashful?
- Your shoes is not so good. 'Tis a good silling, I warrant you, or
- I will change it.
-
- Enter an ENGLISH HERALD
-
- KING HENRY. Now, herald, are the dead numb'red?
- HERALD. Here is the number of the slaught'red French.
- [Gives a paper]
- KING HENRY. What prisoners of good sort are taken, uncle?
- EXETER. Charles Duke of Orleans, nephew to the King;
- John Duke of Bourbon, and Lord Bouciqualt;
- Of other lords and barons, knights and squires,
- Full fifteen hundred, besides common men.
- KING HENRY. This note doth tell me of ten thousand French
- That in the field lie slain; of princes in this number,
- And nobles bearing banners, there lie dead
- One hundred twenty-six; added to these,
- Of knights, esquires, and gallant gentlemen,
- Eight thousand and four hundred; of the which
- Five hundred were but yesterday dubb'd knights.
- So that, in these ten thousand they have lost,
- There are but sixteen hundred mercenaries;
- The rest are princes, barons, lords, knights, squires,
- And gentlemen of blood and quality.
- The names of those their nobles that lie dead:
- Charles Delabreth, High Constable of France;
- Jaques of Chatillon, Admiral of France;
- The master of the cross-bows, Lord Rambures;
- Great Master of France, the brave Sir Guichard Dolphin;
- John Duke of Alencon; Antony Duke of Brabant,
- The brother to the Duke of Burgundy;
- And Edward Duke of Bar. Of lusty earls,
- Grandpre and Roussi, Fauconbridge and Foix,
- Beaumont and Marle, Vaudemont and Lestrake.
- Here was a royal fellowship of death!
- Where is the number of our English dead?
- [HERALD presents another paper]
- Edward the Duke of York, the Earl of Suffolk,
- Sir Richard Kikely, Davy Gam, Esquire;
- None else of name; and of all other men
- But five and twenty. O God, thy arm was here!
- And not to us, but to thy arm alone,
- Ascribe we all. When, without stratagem,
- But in plain shock and even play of battle,
- Was ever known so great and little los
- On one part and on th' other? Take it, God,
- For it is none but thine.
- EXETER. 'Tis wonderful!
- KING HENRY. Come, go we in procession to the village;
- And be it death proclaimed through our host
- To boast of this or take that praise from God
- Which is his only.
- FLUELLEN. Is it not lawful, an please your Majesty, to tell how
- many is kill'd?
- KING HENRY. Yes, Captain; but with this acknowledgment,
- That God fought for us.
- FLUELLEN. Yes, my conscience, he did us great good.
- KING HENRY. Do we all holy rites:
- Let there be sung 'Non nobis' and 'Te Deum';
- The dead with charity enclos'd in clay-
- And then to Calais; and to England then;
- Where ne'er from France arriv'd more happy men. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT V. PROLOGUE.
-
-Enter CHORUS
-
- CHORUS. Vouchsafe to those that have not read the story
- That I may prompt them; and of such as have,
- I humbly pray them to admit th' excuse
- Of time, of numbers, and due course of things,
- Which cannot in their huge and proper life
- Be here presented. Now we bear the King
- Toward Calais. Grant him there. There seen,
- Heave him away upon your winged thoughts
- Athwart the sea. Behold, the English beach
- Pales in the flood with men, with wives, and boys,
- Whose shouts and claps out-voice the deep-mouth'd sea,
- Which, like a mighty whiffler, fore the King
- Seems to prepare his way. So let him land,
- And solemnly see him set on to London.
- So swift a pace hath thought that even now
- You may imagine him upon Blackheath;
- Where that his lords desire him to have borne
- His bruised helmet and his bended sword
- Before him through the city. He forbids it,
- Being free from vainness and self-glorious pride;
- Giving full trophy, signal, and ostent,
- Quite from himself to God. But now behold
- In the quick forge and working-house of thought,
- How London doth pour out her citizens!
- The mayor and all his brethren in best sort-
- Like to the senators of th' antique Rome,
- With the plebeians swarming at their heels-
- Go forth and fetch their conqu'ring Caesar in;
- As, by a lower but loving likelihood,
- Were now the General of our gracious Empress-
- As in good time he may- from Ireland coming,
- Bringing rebellion broached on his sword,
- How many would the peaceful city quit
- To welcome him! Much more, and much more cause,
- Did they this Harry. Now in London place him-
- As yet the lamentation of the French
- Invites the King of England's stay at home;
- The Emperor's coming in behalf of France
- To order peace between them; and omit
- All the occurrences, whatever chanc'd,
- Till Harry's back-return again to France.
- There must we bring him; and myself have play'd
- The interim, by rememb'ring you 'tis past.
- Then brook abridgment; and your eyes advance,
- After your thoughts, straight back again to France. Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE I.
-France. The English camp
-
-Enter FLUELLEN and GOWER
-
- GOWER. Nay, that's right; but why wear you your leek to-day? Saint
- Davy's day is past.
- FLUELLEN. There is occasions and causes why and wherefore in all
- things. I will tell you, ass my friend, Captain Gower: the
- rascally, scald, beggarly, lousy, pragging knave, Pistol- which
- you and yourself and all the world know to be no petter than a
- fellow, look you now, of no merits- he is come to me, and prings
- me pread and salt yesterday, look you, and bid me eat my leek; it
- was in a place where I could not breed no contendon with him; but
- I will be so bold as to wear it in my cap till I see him once
- again, and then I will tell him a little piece of my desires.
-
- Enter PISTOL
-
- GOWER. Why, here he comes, swelling like a turkey-cock.
- FLUELLEN. 'Tis no matter for his swellings nor his turkey-cocks.
- God pless you, Aunchient Pistol! you scurvy, lousy knave, God
- pless you!
- PISTOL. Ha! art thou bedlam? Dost thou thirst, base Troyan,
- To have me fold up Parca's fatal web?
- Hence! I am qualmish at the smell of leek.
- FLUELLEN. I peseech you heartily, scurvy, lousy knave, at my
- desires, and my requests, and my petitions, to eat, look you,
- this leek; because, look you, you do not love it, nor your
- affections, and your appetites, and your digestions, does not
- agree with it, I would desire you to eat it.
- PISTOL. Not for Cadwallader and all his goats.
- FLUELLEN. There is one goat for you. [Strikes him] Will you be so
- good, scald knave, as eat it?
- PISTOL. Base Troyan, thou shalt die.
- FLUELLEN. You say very true, scald knave- when God's will is. I
- will desire you to live in the meantime, and eat your victuals;
- come, there is sauce for it. [Striking him again] You call'd me
- yesterday mountain-squire; but I will make you to-day a squire of
- low degree. I pray you fall to; if you can mock a leek, you can
- eat a leek.
- GOWER. Enough, Captain, you have astonish'd him.
- FLUELLEN. I say I will make him eat some part of my leek, or I will
- peat his pate four days. Bite, I pray you, it is good for your
- green wound and your ploody coxcomb.
- PISTOL. Must I bite?
- FLUELLEN. Yes, certainly, and out of doubt, and out of question
- too, and ambiguides.
- PISTOL. By this leek, I will most horribly revenge- I eat and eat,
- I swear-
- FLUELLEN. Eat, I pray you; will you have some more sauce to your
- leek? There is not enough leek to swear by.
- PISTOL. Quiet thy cudgel: thou dost see I eat.
- FLUELLEN. Much good do you, scald knave, heartily. Nay, pray you
- throw none away; the skin is good for your broken coxcomb. When
- you take occasions to see leeks hereafter, I pray you mock at
- 'em; that is all.
- PISTOL. Good.
- FLUELLEN. Ay, leeks is good. Hold you, there is a groat to heal
- your pate.
- PISTOL. Me a groat!
- FLUELLEN. Yes, verily and in truth, you shall take it; or I have
- another leek in my pocket which you shall eat.
- PISTOL. I take thy groat in earnest of revenge.
- FLUELLEN. If I owe you anything I will pay you in cudgels; you
- shall be a woodmonger, and buy nothing of me but cudgels. God bye
- you, and keep you, and heal your pate.
- Exit
- PISTOL. All hell shall stir for this.
- GOWER. Go, go: you are a couterfeit cowardly knave. Will you mock
- at an ancient tradition, begun upon an honourable respect, and
- worn as a memorable trophy of predeceased valour, and dare not
- avouch in your deeds any of your words? I have seen you gleeking
- and galling at this gentleman twice or thrice. You thought,
- because he could not speak English in the native garb, he could
- not therefore handle an English cudgel; you find it otherwise,
- and henceforth let a Welsh correction teach you a good English
- condition. Fare ye well. Exit
- PISTOL. Doth Fortune play the huswife with me now?
- News have I that my Nell is dead i' th' spital
- Of malady of France;
- And there my rendezvous is quite cut off.
- Old I do wax; and from my weary limbs
- Honour is cudgell'd. Well, bawd I'll turn,
- And something lean to cutpurse of quick hand.
- To England will I steal, and there I'll steal;
- And patches will I get unto these cudgell'd scars,
- And swear I got them in the Gallia wars. Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-France. The FRENCH KING'S palace
-
-Enter at one door, KING HENRY, EXETER, BEDFORD, GLOUCESTER, WARWICK,
-WESTMORELAND, and other LORDS; at another, the FRENCH KING, QUEEN ISABEL,
-the PRINCESS KATHERINE, ALICE, and other LADIES; the DUKE OF BURGUNDY,
-and his train
-
- KING HENRY. Peace to this meeting, wherefore we are met!
- Unto our brother France, and to our sister,
- Health and fair time of day; joy and good wishes
- To our most fair and princely cousin Katherine.
- And, as a branch and member of this royalty,
- By whom this great assembly is contriv'd,
- We do salute you, Duke of Burgundy.
- And, princes French, and peers, health to you all!
- FRENCH KING. Right joyous are we to behold your face,
- Most worthy brother England; fairly met!
- So are you, princes English, every one.
- QUEEN ISABEL. So happy be the issue, brother England,
- Of this good day and of this gracious meeting
- As we are now glad to behold your eyes-
- Your eyes, which hitherto have home in them,
- Against the French that met them in their bent,
- The fatal balls of murdering basilisks;
- The venom of such looks, we fairly hope,
- Have lost their quality; and that this day
- Shall change all griefs and quarrels into love.
- KING HENRY. To cry amen to that, thus we appear.
- QUEEN ISABEL. You English princes an, I do salute you.
- BURGUNDY. My duty to you both, on equal love,
- Great Kings of France and England! That I have labour'd
- With all my wits, my pains, and strong endeavours,
- To bring your most imperial Majesties
- Unto this bar and royal interview,
- Your mightiness on both parts best can witness.
- Since then my office hath so far prevail'd
- That face to face and royal eye to eye
- You have congreeted, let it not disgrace me
- If I demand, before this royal view,
- What rub or what impediment there is
- Why that the naked, poor, and mangled Peace,
- Dear nurse of arts, plenties, and joyful births,
- Should not in this best garden of the world,
- Our fertile France, put up her lovely visage?
- Alas, she hath from France too long been chas'd!
- And all her husbandry doth lie on heaps,
- Corrupting in it own fertility.
- Her vine, the merry cheerer of the heart,
- Unpruned dies; her hedges even-pleach'd,
- Like prisoners wildly overgrown with hair,
- Put forth disorder'd twigs; her fallow leas
- The darnel, hemlock, and rank fumitory,
- Doth root upon, while that the coulter rusts
- That should deracinate such savagery;
- The even mead, that erst brought sweetly forth
- The freckled cowslip, burnet, and green clover,
- Wanting the scythe, all uncorrected, rank,
- Conceives by idleness, and nothing teems
- But hateful docks, rough thistles, kecksies, burs,
- Losing both beauty and utility.
- And as our vineyards, fallows, meads, and hedges,
- Defective in their natures, grow to wildness;
- Even so our houses and ourselves and children
- Have lost, or do not learn for want of time,
- The sciences that should become our country;
- But grow, like savages- as soldiers will,
- That nothing do but meditate on blood-
- To swearing and stern looks, diffus'd attire,
- And everything that seems unnatural.
- Which to reduce into our former favout
- You are assembled; and my speech entreats
- That I may know the let why gentle Peace
- Should not expel these inconveniences
- And bless us with her former qualities.
- KING HENRY. If, Duke of Burgundy, you would the peace
- Whose want gives growth to th' imperfections
- Which you have cited, you must buy that peace
- With full accord to all our just demands;
- Whose tenours and particular effects
- You have, enschedul'd briefly, in your hands.
- BURGUNDY. The King hath heard them; to the which as yet
- There is no answer made.
- KING HENRY. Well then, the peace,
- Which you before so urg'd, lies in his answer.
- FRENCH KING. I have but with a cursorary eye
- O'erglanced the articles; pleaseth your Grace
- To appoint some of your council presently
- To sit with us once more, with better heed
- To re-survey them, we will suddenly
- Pass our accept and peremptory answer.
- KING HENRY. Brother, we shall. Go, uncle Exeter,
- And brother Clarence, and you, brother Gloucester,
- Warwick, and Huntington, go with the King;
- And take with you free power to ratify,
- Augment, or alter, as your wisdoms best
- Shall see advantageable for our dignity,
- Any thing in or out of our demands;
- And we'll consign thereto. Will you, fair sister,
- Go with the princes or stay here with us?
- QUEEN ISABEL. Our gracious brother, I will go with them;
- Haply a woman's voice may do some good,
- When articles too nicely urg'd be stood on.
- KING HENRY. Yet leave our cousin Katherine here with us;
- She is our capital demand, compris'd
- Within the fore-rank of our articles.
- QUEEN ISABEL. She hath good leave.
- Exeunt all but the KING, KATHERINE, and ALICE
- KING HENRY. Fair Katherine, and most fair,
- Will you vouchsafe to teach a soldier terms
- Such as will enter at a lady's ear,
- And plead his love-suit to her gentle heart?
- KATHERINE. Your Majesty shall mock me; I cannot speak your England.
- KING HENRY. O fair Katherine, if you will love me soundly with your
- French heart, I will be glad to hear you confess it brokenly with
- your English tongue. Do you like me, Kate?
- KATHERINE. Pardonnez-moi, I cannot tell vat is like me.
- KING HENRY. An angel is like you, Kate, and you are like an angel.
- KATHERINE. Que dit-il? que je suis semblable a les anges?
- ALICE. Oui, vraiment, sauf votre grace, ainsi dit-il.
- KING HENRY. I said so, dear Katherine, and I must not blush to
- affirm it.
- KATHERINE. O bon Dieu! les langues des hommes sont pleines de
- tromperies.
- KING HENRY. What says she, fair one? that the tongues of men are
- full of deceits?
- ALICE. Oui, dat de tongues of de mans is be full of deceits- dat is
- de Princess.
- KING HENRY. The Princess is the better English-woman. I' faith,
- Kate, my wooing is fit for thy understanding: I am glad thou
- canst speak no better English; for if thou couldst, thou wouldst
- find me such a plain king that thou wouldst think I had sold my
- farm to buy my crown. I know no ways to mince it in love, but
- directly to say 'I love you.' Then, if you urge me farther than
- to say 'Do you in faith?' I wear out my suit. Give me your
- answer; i' faith, do; and so clap hands and a bargain. How say
- you, lady?
- KATHERINE. Sauf votre honneur, me understand well.
- KING HENRY. Marry, if you would put me to verses or to dance for
- your sake, Kate, why you undid me; for the one I have neither
- words nor measure, and for the other I have no strength in
- measure, yet a reasonable measure in strength. If I could win a
- lady at leap-frog, or by vaulting into my saddle with my armour
- on my back, under the correction of bragging be it spoken, I
- should quickly leap into wife. Or if I might buffet for my love,
- or bound my horse for her favours, I could lay on like a butcher,
- and sit like a jack-an-apes, never off. But, before God, Kate, I
- cannot look greenly, nor gasp out my cloquence, nor I have no
- cunning in protestation; only downright oaths, which I never use
- till urg'd, nor never break for urging. If thou canst love a
- fellow of this temper, Kate, whose face is not worth sunburning,
- that never looks in his glass for love of anything he sees there,
- let thine eye be thy cook. I speak to thee plain soldier. If thou
- canst love me for this, take me; if not, to say to thee that I
- shall die is true- but for thy love, by the Lord, no; yet I love
- thee too. And while thou liv'st, dear Kate, take a fellow of
- plain and uncoined constancy; for he perforce must do thee right,
- because he hath not the gift to woo in other places; for these
- fellows of infinite tongue, that can rhyme themselves into
- ladies' favours, they do always reason themselves out again.
- What! a speaker is but a prater: a rhyme is but a ballad. A good
- leg will fall; a straight back will stoop; a black beard will
- turn white; a curl'd pate will grow bald; a fair face will
- wither; a full eye will wax hollow. But a good heart, Kate, is
- the sun and the moon; or, rather, the sun, and not the moon- for
- it shines bright and never changes, but keeps his course truly.
- If thou would have such a one, take me; and take me, take a
- soldier; take a soldier, take a king. And what say'st thou, then,
- to my love? Speak, my fair, and fairly, I pray thee.
- KATHERINE. Is it possible dat I sould love de enemy of France?
- KING HENRY. No, it is not possible you should love the enemy of
- France, Kate, but in loving me you should love the friend of
- France; for I love France so well that I will not part with a
- village of it; I will have it all mine. And, Kate, when France is
- mine and I am yours, then yours is France and you are mine.
- KATHERINE. I cannot tell vat is dat.
- KING HENRY. No, Kate? I will tell thee in French, which I am sure
- will hang upon my tongue like a new-married wife about her
- husband's neck, hardly to be shook off. Je quand sur le
- possession de France, et quand vous avez le possession de moi-
- let me see, what then? Saint Denis be my speed!- donc votre est
- France et vous etes mienne. It is as easy for me, Kate, to
- conquer the kingdom as to speak so much more French: I shall
- never move thee in French, unless it be to laugh at me.
- KATHERINE. Sauf votre honneur, le Francais que vous parlez, il est
- meilleur que l'Anglais lequel je parle.
- KING HENRY. No, faith, is't not, Kate; but thy speaking of my
- tongue, and I thine, most truly falsely, must needs be granted to
- be much at one. But, Kate, dost thou understand thus much
- English- Canst thou love me?
- KATHERINE. I cannot tell.
- KING HENRY. Can any of your neighbours tell, Kate? I'll ask them.
- Come, I know thou lovest me; and at night, when you come into
- your closet, you'll question this gentlewoman about me; and I
- know, Kate, you will to her dispraise those parts in me that you
- love with your heart. But, good Kate, mock me mercifully; the
- rather, gentle Princess, because I love thee cruelly. If ever
- thou beest mine, Kate, as I have a saving faith within me tells
- me thou shalt, I get thee with scambling, and thou must therefore
- needs prove a good soldier-breeder. Shall not thou and I, between
- Saint Denis and Saint George, compound a boy, half French, half
- English, that shall go to Constantinople and take the Turk by the
- beard? Shall we not? What say'st thou, my fair flower-de-luce?
- KATHERINE. I do not know dat.
- KING HENRY. No: 'tis hereafter to know, but now to promise; do but
- now promise, Kate, you will endeavour for your French part of
- such a boy; and for my English moiety take the word of a king and
- a bachelor. How answer you, la plus belle Katherine du monde, mon
- tres cher et divin deesse?
- KATHERINE. Your Majestee ave fausse French enough to deceive de
- most sage damoiselle dat is en France.
- KING HENRY. Now, fie upon my false French! By mine honour, in true
- English, I love thee, Kate; by which honour I dare not swear thou
- lovest me; yet my blood begins to flatter me that thou dost,
- notwithstanding the poor and untempering effect of my visage. Now
- beshrew my father's ambition! He was thinking of civil wars when
- he got me; therefore was I created with a stubborn outside, with
- an aspect of iron, that when I come to woo ladies I fright them.
- But, in faith, Kate, the elder I wax, the better I shall appear:
- my comfort is, that old age, that in layer-up of beauty, can do
- no more spoil upon my face; thou hast me, if thou hast me, at the
- worst; and thou shalt wear me, if thou wear me, better and
- better. And therefore tell me, most fair Katherine, will you have
- me? Put off your maiden blushes; avouch the thoughts of your
- heart with the looks of an empress; take me by the hand and say
- 'Harry of England, I am thine.' Which word thou shalt no sooner
- bless mine ear withal but I will tell thee aloud 'England is
- thine, Ireland is thine, France is thine, and Henry Plantagenet
- is thine'; who, though I speak it before his face, if he be not
- fellow with the best king, thou shalt find the best king of good
- fellows. Come, your answer in broken music- for thy voice is
- music and thy English broken; therefore, Queen of all, Katherine,
- break thy mind to me in broken English, wilt thou have me?
- KATHERINE. Dat is as it shall please de roi mon pere.
- KING HENRY. Nay, it will please him well, Kate- it shall please
- him, Kate.
- KATHERINE. Den it sall also content me.
- KING HENRY. Upon that I kiss your hand, and I can you my queen.
- KATHERINE. Laissez, mon seigneur, laissez, laissez! Ma foi, je ne
- veux point que vous abaissiez votre grandeur en baisant la main
- d'une, notre seigneur, indigne serviteur; excusez-moi, je vous
- supplie, mon tres puissant seigneur.
- KING HENRY. Then I will kiss your lips, Kate.
- KATHERINE. Les dames et demoiselles pour etre baisees devant leur
- noces, il n'est pas la coutume de France.
- KING HENRY. Madame my interpreter, what says she?
- ALICE. Dat it is not be de fashion pour le ladies of France- I
- cannot tell vat is baiser en Anglish.
- KING HENRY. To kiss.
- ALICE. Your Majestee entendre bettre que moi.
- KING HENRY. It is not a fashion for the maids in France to kiss
- before they are married, would she say?
- ALICE. Oui, vraiment.
- KING HENRY. O Kate, nice customs curtsy to great kings. Dear Kate,
- you and I cannot be confin'd within the weak list of a country's
- fashion; we are the makers of manners, Kate; and the liberty that
- follows our places stops the mouth of all find-faults- as I will
- do yours for upholding the nice fashion of your country in
- denying me a kiss; therefore, patiently and yielding. [Kissing
- her] You have witchcraft in your lips, Kate: there is more
- eloquence in a sugar touch of them than in the tongues of the
- French council; and they should sooner persuade Henry of England
- than a general petition of monarchs. Here comes your father.
-
- Enter the FRENCH POWER and the ENGLISH LORDS
-
- BURGUNDY. God save your Majesty! My royal cousin,
- Teach you our princess English?
- KING HENRY. I would have her learn, my fair cousin, how perfectly I
- love her; and that is good English.
- BURGUNDY. Is she not apt?
- KING HENRY. Our tongue is rough, coz, and my condition is not
- smooth; so that, having neither the voice nor the heart of
- flattery about me, I cannot so conjure up the spirit of love in
- her that he will appear in his true likeness.
- BURGUNDY. Pardon the frankness of my mirth, if I answer you for
- that. If you would conjure in her, you must make a circle; if
- conjure up love in her in his true likeness, he must appear naked
- and blind. Can you blame her, then, being a maid yet ros'd over
- with the virgin crimson of modesty, if she deny the appearance of
- a naked blind boy in her naked seeing self? It were, my lord, a
- hard condition for a maid to consign to.
- KING HENRY. Yet they do wink and yield, as love is blind and
- enforces.
- BURGUNDY. They are then excus'd, my lord, when they see not what
- they do.
- KING HENRY. Then, good my lord, teach your cousin to consent
- winking.
- BURGUNDY. I will wink on her to consent, my lord, if you will teach
- her to know my meaning; for maids well summer'd and warm kept are
- like flies at Bartholomew-tide, blind, though they have their
- eyes; and then they will endure handling, which before would not
- abide looking on.
- KING HENRY. This moral ties me over to time and a hot summer; and
- so I shall catch the fly, your cousin, in the latter end, and she
- must be blind too.
- BURGUNDY. As love is, my lord, before it loves.
- KING HENRY. It is so; and you may, some of you, thank love for my
- blindness, who cannot see many a fair French city for one fair
- French maid that stands in my way.
- FRENCH KING. Yes, my lord, you see them perspectively, the cities
- turned into a maid; for they are all girdled with maiden walls
- that war hath never ent'red.
- KING HENRY. Shall Kate be my wife?
- FRENCH KING. So please you.
- KING HENRY. I am content, so the maiden cities you talk of may wait
- on her; so the maid that stood in the way for my wish shall show
- me the way to my will.
- FRENCH KING. We have consented to all terms of reason.
- KING HENRY. Is't so, my lords of England?
- WESTMORELAND. The king hath granted every article:
- His daughter first; and then in sequel, all,
- According to their firm proposed natures.
- EXETER. Only he hath not yet subscribed this:
- Where your Majesty demands that the King of France, having any
- occasion to write for matter of grant, shall name your Highness
- in this form and with this addition, in French, Notre tres cher
- fils Henri, Roi d'Angleterre, Heritier de France; and thus in
- Latin, Praeclarissimus filius noster Henricus, Rex Angliae et
- Haeres Franciae.
- FRENCH KING. Nor this I have not, brother, so denied
- But our request shall make me let it pass.
- KING HENRY. I pray you, then, in love and dear alliance,
- Let that one article rank with the rest;
- And thereupon give me your daughter.
- FRENCH KING. Take her, fair son, and from her blood raise up
- Issue to me; that the contending kingdoms
- Of France and England, whose very shores look pale
- With envy of each other's happiness,
- May cease their hatred; and this dear conjunction
- Plant neighbourhood and Christian-like accord
- In their sweet bosoms, that never war advance
- His bleeding sword 'twixt England and fair France.
- LORDS. Amen!
- KING HENRY. Now, welcome, Kate; and bear me witness all,
- That here I kiss her as my sovereign queen. [Floulish]
- QUEEN ISABEL. God, the best maker of all marriages,
- Combine your hearts in one, your realms in one!
- As man and wife, being two, are one in love,
- So be there 'twixt your kingdoms such a spousal
- That never may ill office or fell jealousy,
- Which troubles oft the bed of blessed marriage,
- Thrust in between the paction of these kingdoms,
- To make divorce of their incorporate league;
- That English may as French, French Englishmen,
- Receive each other. God speak this Amen!
- ALL. Amen!
- KING HENRY. Prepare we for our marriage; on which day,
- My Lord of Burgundy, we'll take your oath,
- And all the peers', for surety of our leagues.
- Then shall I swear to Kate, and you to me,
- And may our oaths well kept and prosp'rous be!
- Sennet. Exeunt
-
-EPILOGUE
- EPILOGUE.
-
- Enter CHORUS
-
- CHORUS. Thus far, with rough and all-unable pen,
- Our bending author hath pursu'd the story,
- In little room confining mighty men,
- Mangling by starts the full course of their glory.
- Small time, but, in that small, most greatly lived
- This star of England. Fortune made his sword;
- By which the world's best garden he achieved,
- And of it left his son imperial lord.
- Henry the Sixth, in infant bands crown'd king
- Of France and England, did this king succeed;
- Whose state so many had the managing
- That they lost France and made his England bleed;
- Which oft our stage hath shown; and, for their sake,
- In your fair minds let this acceptance take. Exit
-
-THE END
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-
-
-1592
-
-THE FIRST PART OF HENRY THE SIXTH
-
-by William Shakespeare
-
-
-Dramatis Personae
-
- KING HENRY THE SIXTH
- DUKE OF GLOUCESTER, uncle to the King, and Protector
- DUKE OF BEDFORD, uncle to the King, and Regent of France
- THOMAS BEAUFORT, DUKE OF EXETER, great-uncle to the king
- HENRY BEAUFORT, great-uncle to the King, BISHOP OF WINCHESTER,
- and afterwards CARDINAL
- JOHN BEAUFORT, EARL OF SOMERSET, afterwards Duke
- RICHARD PLANTAGENET, son of Richard late Earl of Cambridge,
- afterwards DUKE OF YORK
- EARL OF WARWICK
- EARL OF SALISBURY
- EARL OF SUFFOLK
- LORD TALBOT, afterwards EARL OF SHREWSBURY
- JOHN TALBOT, his son
- EDMUND MORTIMER, EARL OF MARCH
- SIR JOHN FASTOLFE
- SIR WILLIAM LUCY
- SIR WILLIAM GLANSDALE
- SIR THOMAS GARGRAVE
- MAYOR of LONDON
- WOODVILLE, Lieutenant of the Tower
- VERNON, of the White Rose or York faction
- BASSET, of the Red Rose or Lancaster faction
- A LAWYER
- GAOLERS, to Mortimer
- CHARLES, Dauphin, and afterwards King of France
- REIGNIER, DUKE OF ANJOU, and titular King of Naples
- DUKE OF BURGUNDY
- DUKE OF ALENCON
- BASTARD OF ORLEANS
- GOVERNOR OF PARIS
- MASTER-GUNNER OF ORLEANS, and his SON
- GENERAL OF THE FRENCH FORCES in Bordeaux
- A FRENCH SERGEANT
- A PORTER
- AN OLD SHEPHERD, father to Joan la Pucelle
- MARGARET, daughter to Reignier, afterwards married to
- King Henry
- COUNTESS OF AUVERGNE
- JOAN LA PUCELLE, Commonly called JOAN OF ARC
-
- Lords, Warders of the Tower, Heralds, Officers, Soldiers,
- Messengers, English and French Attendants. Fiends appearing
- to La Pucelle
-
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-SCENE:
-England and France
-
-
-
-
-The First Part of King Henry the Sixth
-
-
-ACT I. SCENE 1.
-
-Westminster Abbey
-
-Dead March. Enter the funeral of KING HENRY THE FIFTH,
-attended on by the DUKE OF BEDFORD, Regent of France,
-the DUKE OF GLOUCESTER, Protector, the DUKE OF EXETER,
-the EARL OF WARWICK, the BISHOP OF WINCHESTER
-
- BEDFORD. Hung be the heavens with black, yield day to
- night! Comets, importing change of times and states,
- Brandish your crystal tresses in the sky
- And with them scourge the bad revolting stars
- That have consented unto Henry's death!
- King Henry the Fifth, too famous to live long!
- England ne'er lost a king of so much worth.
- GLOUCESTER. England ne'er had a king until his time.
- Virtue he had, deserving to command;
- His brandish'd sword did blind men with his beams;
- His arms spread wider than a dragon's wings;
- His sparkling eyes, replete with wrathful fire,
- More dazzled and drove back his enemies
- Than mid-day sun fierce bent against their faces.
- What should I say? His deeds exceed all speech:
- He ne'er lift up his hand but conquered.
- EXETER. We mourn in black; why mourn we not in blood?
- Henry is dead and never shall revive.
- Upon a wooden coffin we attend;
- And death's dishonourable victory
- We with our stately presence glorify,
- Like captives bound to a triumphant car.
- What! shall we curse the planets of mishap
- That plotted thus our glory's overthrow?
- Or shall we think the subtle-witted French
- Conjurers and sorcerers, that, afraid of him,
- By magic verses have contriv'd his end?
- WINCHESTER. He was a king bless'd of the King of kings;
- Unto the French the dreadful judgment-day
- So dreadful will not be as was his sight.
- The battles of the Lord of Hosts he fought;
- The Church's prayers made him so prosperous.
- GLOUCESTER. The Church! Where is it? Had not churchmen
- pray'd,
- His thread of life had not so soon decay'd.
- None do you like but an effeminate prince,
- Whom like a school-boy you may overawe.
- WINCHESTER. Gloucester, whate'er we like, thou art
- Protector
- And lookest to command the Prince and realm.
- Thy wife is proud; she holdeth thee in awe
- More than God or religious churchmen may.
- GLOUCESTER. Name not religion, for thou lov'st the flesh;
- And ne'er throughout the year to church thou go'st,
- Except it be to pray against thy foes.
- BEDFORD. Cease, cease these jars and rest your minds in peace;
- Let's to the altar. Heralds, wait on us.
- Instead of gold, we'll offer up our arms,
- Since arms avail not, now that Henry's dead.
- Posterity, await for wretched years,
- When at their mothers' moist'ned eyes babes shall suck,
- Our isle be made a nourish of salt tears,
- And none but women left to wail the dead.
- HENRY the Fifth, thy ghost I invocate:
- Prosper this realm, keep it from civil broils,
- Combat with adverse planets in the heavens.
- A far more glorious star thy soul will make
- Than Julius Caesar or bright
-
- Enter a MESSENGER
-
- MESSENGER. My honourable lords, health to you all!
- Sad tidings bring I to you out of France,
- Of loss, of slaughter, and discomfiture:
- Guienne, Champagne, Rheims, Orleans,
- Paris, Guysors, Poictiers, are all quite lost.
- BEDFORD. What say'st thou, man, before dead Henry's corse?
- Speak softly, or the loss of those great towns
- Will make him burst his lead and rise from death.
- GLOUCESTER. Is Paris lost? Is Rouen yielded up?
- If Henry were recall'd to life again,
- These news would cause him once more yield the ghost.
- EXETER. How were they lost? What treachery was us'd?
- MESSENGER. No treachery, but want of men and money.
- Amongst the soldiers this is muttered
- That here you maintain several factions;
- And whilst a field should be dispatch'd and fought,
- You are disputing of your generals:
- One would have ling'ring wars, with little cost;
- Another would fly swift, but wanteth wings;
- A third thinks, without expense at all,
- By guileful fair words peace may be obtain'd.
- Awake, awake, English nobility!
- Let not sloth dim your honours, new-begot.
- Cropp'd are the flower-de-luces in your arms;
- Of England's coat one half is cut away.
- EXETER. Were our tears wanting to this funeral,
- These tidings would call forth their flowing tides.
- BEDFORD. Me they concern; Regent I am of France.
- Give me my steeled coat; I'll fight for France.
- Away with these disgraceful wailing robes!
- Wounds will I lend the French instead of eyes,
- To weep their intermissive miseries.
-
- Enter a second MESSENGER
-
- SECOND MESSENGER. Lords, view these letters full of bad
- mischance.
- France is revolted from the English quite,
- Except some petty towns of no import.
- The Dauphin Charles is crowned king in Rheims;
- The Bastard of Orleans with him is join'd;
- Reignier, Duke of Anjou, doth take his part;
- The Duke of Alencon flieth to his side.
- EXETER. The Dauphin crowned king! all fly to him!
- O, whither shall we fly from this reproach?
- GLOUCESTER. We will not fly but to our enemies' throats.
- Bedford, if thou be slack I'll fight it out.
- BEDFORD. Gloucester, why doubt'st thou of my forwardness?
- An army have I muster'd in my thoughts,
- Wherewith already France is overrun.
-
- Enter a third MESSENGER
-
- THIRD MESSENGER. My gracious lords, to add to your
- laments,
- Wherewith you now bedew King Henry's hearse,
- I must inform you of a dismal fight
- Betwixt the stout Lord Talbot and the French.
- WINCHESTER. What! Wherein Talbot overcame? Is't so?
- THIRD MESSENGER. O, no; wherein Lord Talbot was
- o'erthrown.
- The circumstance I'll tell you more at large.
- The tenth of August last this dreadful lord,
- Retiring from the siege of Orleans,
- Having full scarce six thousand in his troop,
- By three and twenty thousand of the French
- Was round encompassed and set upon.
- No leisure had he to enrank his men;
- He wanted pikes to set before his archers;
- Instead whereof sharp stakes pluck'd out of hedges
- They pitched in the ground confusedly
- To keep the horsemen off from breaking in.
- More than three hours the fight continued;
- Where valiant Talbot, above human thought,
- Enacted wonders with his sword and lance:
- Hundreds he sent to hell, and none durst stand him;
- Here, there, and everywhere, enrag'd he slew
- The French exclaim'd the devil was in arms;
- All the whole army stood agaz'd on him.
- His soldiers, spying his undaunted spirit,
- 'A Talbot! a Talbot!' cried out amain,
- And rush'd into the bowels of the battle.
- Here had the conquest fully been seal'd up
- If Sir John Fastolfe had not play'd the coward.
- He, being in the vaward plac'd behind
- With purpose to relieve and follow them-
- Cowardly fled, not having struck one stroke;
- Hence grew the general wreck and massacre.
- Enclosed were they with their enemies.
- A base Walloon, to win the Dauphin's grace,
- Thrust Talbot with a spear into the back;
- Whom all France, with their chief assembled strength,
- Durst not presume to look once in the face.
- BEDFORD. Is Talbot slain? Then I will slay myself,
- For living idly here in pomp and ease,
- Whilst such a worthy leader, wanting aid,
- Unto his dastard foemen is betray'd.
- THIRD MESSENGER. O no, he lives, but is took prisoner,
- And Lord Scales with him, and Lord Hungerford;
- Most of the rest slaughter'd or took likewise.
- BEDFORD. His ransom there is none but I shall pay.
- I'll hale the Dauphin headlong from his throne;
- His crown shall be the ransom of my friend;
- Four of their lords I'll change for one of ours.
- Farewell, my masters; to my task will I;
- Bonfires in France forthwith I am to make
- To keep our great Saint George's feast withal.
- Ten thousand soldiers with me I will take,
- Whose bloody deeds shall make an Europe quake.
- THIRD MESSENGER. So you had need; for Orleans is besieg'd;
- The English army is grown weak and faint;
- The Earl of Salisbury craveth supply
- And hardly keeps his men from mutiny,
- Since they, so few, watch such a multitude.
- EXETER. Remember, lords, your oaths to Henry sworn,
- Either to quell the Dauphin utterly,
- Or bring him in obedience to your yoke.
- BEDFORD. I do remember it, and here take my leave
- To go about my preparation. Exit
- GLOUCESTER. I'll to the Tower with all the haste I can
- To view th' artillery and munition;
- And then I will proclaim young Henry king. Exit
- EXETER. To Eltham will I, where the young King is,
- Being ordain'd his special governor;
- And for his safety there I'll best devise. Exit
- WINCHESTER. [Aside] Each hath his place and function to
- attend:
- I am left out; for me nothing remains.
- But long I will not be Jack out of office.
- The King from Eltham I intend to steal,
- And sit at chiefest stern of public weal. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
- SCENE 2.
-
- France. Before Orleans
-
- Sound a flourish. Enter CHARLES THE DAUPHIN, ALENCON,
- and REIGNIER, marching with drum and soldiers
-
- CHARLES. Mars his true moving, even as in the heavens
- So in the earth, to this day is not known.
- Late did he shine upon the English side;
- Now we are victors, upon us he smiles.
- What towns of any moment but we have?
- At pleasure here we lie near Orleans;
- Otherwhiles the famish'd English, like pale ghosts,
- Faintly besiege us one hour in a month.
- ALENCON. They want their porridge and their fat bull
- beeves.
- Either they must be dieted like mules
- And have their provender tied to their mouths,
- Or piteous they will look, like drowned mice.
- REIGNIER. Let's raise the siege. Why live we idly here?
- Talbot is taken, whom we wont to fear;
- Remaineth none but mad-brain'd Salisbury,
- And he may well in fretting spend his gall
- Nor men nor money hath he to make war.
- CHARLES. Sound, sound alarum; we will rush on them.
- Now for the honour of the forlorn French!
- Him I forgive my death that killeth me,
- When he sees me go back one foot or flee. Exeunt
-
- Here alarum. They are beaten hack by the English, with
- great loss. Re-enter CHARLES, ALENCON, and REIGNIER
-
- CHARLES. Who ever saw the like? What men have I!
- Dogs! cowards! dastards! I would ne'er have fled
- But that they left me midst my enemies.
- REIGNIER. Salisbury is a desperate homicide;
- He fighteth as one weary of his life.
- The other lords, like lions wanting food,
- Do rush upon us as their hungry prey.
- ALENCON. Froissart, a countryman of ours, records
- England all Olivers and Rowlands bred
- During the time Edward the Third did reign.
- More truly now may this be verified;
- For none but Samsons and Goliases
- It sendeth forth to skirmish. One to ten!
- Lean raw-bon'd rascals! Who would e'er suppose
- They had such courage and audacity?
- CHARLES. Let's leave this town; for they are hare-brain'd
- slaves,
- And hunger will enforce them to be more eager.
- Of old I know them; rather with their teeth
- The walls they'll tear down than forsake the siege.
- REIGNIER. I think by some odd gimmers or device
- Their arms are set, like clocks, still to strike on;
- Else ne'er could they hold out so as they do.
- By my consent, we'll even let them alone.
- ALENCON. Be it so.
-
- Enter the BASTARD OF ORLEANS
-
- BASTARD. Where's the Prince Dauphin? I have news for him.
- CHARLES. Bastard of Orleans, thrice welcome to us.
- BASTARD. Methinks your looks are sad, your cheer appall'd.
- Hath the late overthrow wrought this offence?
- Be not dismay'd, for succour is at hand.
- A holy maid hither with me I bring,
- Which, by a vision sent to her from heaven,
- Ordained is to raise this tedious siege
- And drive the English forth the bounds of France.
- The spirit of deep prophecy she hath,
- Exceeding the nine sibyls of old Rome:
- What's past and what's to come she can descry.
- Speak, shall I call her in? Believe my words,
- For they are certain and unfallible.
- CHARLES. Go, call her in. [Exit BASTARD]
- But first, to try her skill,
- Reignier, stand thou as Dauphin in my place;
- Question her proudly; let thy looks be stern;
- By this means shall we sound what skill she hath.
-
- Re-enter the BASTARD OF ORLEANS with
- JOAN LA PUCELLE
-
- REIGNIER. Fair maid, is 't thou wilt do these wondrous feats?
- PUCELLE. Reignier, is 't thou that thinkest to beguile me?
- Where is the Dauphin? Come, come from behind;
- I know thee well, though never seen before.
- Be not amaz'd, there's nothing hid from me.
- In private will I talk with thee apart.
- Stand back, you lords, and give us leave awhile.
- REIGNIER. She takes upon her bravely at first dash.
- PUCELLE. Dauphin, I am by birth a shepherd's daughter,
- My wit untrain'd in any kind of art.
- Heaven and our Lady gracious hath it pleas'd
- To shine on my contemptible estate.
- Lo, whilst I waited on my tender lambs
- And to sun's parching heat display'd my cheeks,
- God's Mother deigned to appear to me,
- And in a vision full of majesty
- Will'd me to leave my base vocation
- And free my country from calamity
- Her aid she promis'd and assur'd success.
- In complete glory she reveal'd herself;
- And whereas I was black and swart before,
- With those clear rays which she infus'd on me
- That beauty am I bless'd with which you may see.
- Ask me what question thou canst possible,
- And I will answer unpremeditated.
- My courage try by combat if thou dar'st,
- And thou shalt find that I exceed my sex.
- Resolve on this: thou shalt be fortunate
- If thou receive me for thy warlike mate.
- CHARLES. Thou hast astonish'd me with thy high terms.
- Only this proof I'll of thy valour make
- In single combat thou shalt buckle with me;
- And if thou vanquishest, thy words are true;
- Otherwise I renounce all confidence.
- PUCELLE. I am prepar'd; here is my keen-edg'd sword,
- Deck'd with five flower-de-luces on each side,
- The which at Touraine, in Saint Katherine's churchyard,
- Out of a great deal of old iron I chose forth.
- CHARLES. Then come, o' God's name; I fear no woman.
- PUCELLE. And while I live I'll ne'er fly from a man.
- [Here they fight and JOAN LA PUCELLE overcomes]
- CHARLES. Stay, stay thy hands; thou art an Amazon,
- And fightest with the sword of Deborah.
- PUCELLE. Christ's Mother helps me, else I were too weak.
- CHARLES. Whoe'er helps thee, 'tis thou that must help me.
- Impatiently I burn with thy desire;
- My heart and hands thou hast at once subdu'd.
- Excellent Pucelle, if thy name be so,
- Let me thy servant and not sovereign be.
- 'Tis the French Dauphin sueth to thee thus.
- PUCELLE. I must not yield to any rites of love,
- For my profession's sacred from above.
- When I have chased all thy foes from hence,
- Then will I think upon a recompense.
- CHARLES. Meantime look gracious on thy prostrate thrall.
- REIGNIER. My lord, methinks, is very long in talk.
- ALENCON. Doubtless he shrives this woman to her smock;
- Else ne'er could he so long protract his speech.
- REIGNIER. Shall we disturb him, since he keeps no mean?
- ALENCON. He may mean more than we poor men do know;
- These women are shrewd tempters with their tongues.
- REIGNIER. My lord, where are you? What devise you on?
- Shall we give o'er Orleans, or no?
- PUCELLE. Why, no, I say; distrustful recreants!
- Fight till the last gasp; I will be your guard.
- CHARLES. What she says I'll confirm; we'll fight it out.
- PUCELLE. Assign'd am I to be the English scourge.
- This night the siege assuredly I'll raise.
- Expect Saint Martin's summer, halcyon days,
- Since I have entered into these wars.
- Glory is like a circle in the water,
- Which never ceaseth to enlarge itself
- Till by broad spreading it disperse to nought.
- With Henry's death the English circle ends;
- Dispersed are the glories it included.
- Now am I like that proud insulting ship
- Which Caesar and his fortune bare at once.
- CHARLES. Was Mahomet inspired with a dove?
- Thou with an eagle art inspired then.
- Helen, the mother of great Constantine,
- Nor yet Saint Philip's daughters were like thee.
- Bright star of Venus, fall'n down on the earth,
- How may I reverently worship thee enough?
- ALENCON. Leave off delays, and let us raise the siege.
- REIGNIER. Woman, do what thou canst to save our honours;
- Drive them from Orleans, and be immortaliz'd.
- CHARLES. Presently we'll try. Come, let's away about it.
- No prophet will I trust if she prove false. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
- SCENE 3.
-
- London. Before the Tower gates
-
- Enter the DUKE OF GLOUCESTER, with his serving-men
- in blue coats
-
- GLOUCESTER. I am come to survey the Tower this day;
- Since Henry's death, I fear, there is conveyance.
- Where be these warders that they wait not here?
- Open the gates; 'tis Gloucester that calls.
- FIRST WARDER. [Within] Who's there that knocks so
- imperiously?
- FIRST SERVING-MAN. It is the noble Duke of Gloucester.
- SECOND WARDER. [Within] Whoe'er he be, you may not be
- let in.
- FIRST SERVING-MAN. Villains, answer you so the Lord
- Protector?
- FIRST WARDER. [Within] The Lord protect him! so we
- answer him.
- We do no otherwise than we are will'd.
- GLOUCESTER. Who willed you, or whose will stands but
- mine?
- There's none Protector of the realm but I.
- Break up the gates, I'll be your warrantize.
- Shall I be flouted thus by dunghill grooms?
- [GLOUCESTER'S men rush at the Tower gates, and
- WOODVILLE the Lieutenant speaks within]
- WOODVILLE. [Within] What noise is this? What traitors
- have we here?
- GLOUCESTER. Lieutenant, is it you whose voice I hear?
- Open the gates; here's Gloucester that would enter.
- WOODVILLE. [Within] Have patience, noble Duke, I may
- not open;
- The Cardinal of Winchester forbids.
- From him I have express commandment
- That thou nor none of thine shall be let in.
- GLOUCESTER. Faint-hearted Woodville, prizest him fore me?
- Arrogant Winchester, that haughty prelate
- Whom Henry, our late sovereign, ne'er could brook!
- Thou art no friend to God or to the King.
- Open the gates, or I'll shut thee out shortly.
- SERVING-MEN. Open the gates unto the Lord Protector,
- Or we'll burst them open, if that you come not quickly.
-
- Enter to the PROTECTOR at the Tower gates WINCHESTER
- and his men in tawny coats
-
- WINCHESTER. How now, ambitious Humphry! What means
- this?
- GLOUCESTER. Peel'd priest, dost thou command me to be
- shut out?
- WINCHESTER. I do, thou most usurping proditor,
- And not Protector of the King or realm.
- GLOUCESTER. Stand back, thou manifest conspirator,
- Thou that contrived'st to murder our dead lord;
- Thou that giv'st whores indulgences to sin.
- I'll canvass thee in thy broad cardinal's hat,
- If thou proceed in this thy insolence.
- WINCHESTER. Nay, stand thou back; I will not budge a foot.
- This be Damascus; be thou cursed Cain,
- To slay thy brother Abel, if thou wilt.
- GLOUCESTER. I will not slay thee, but I'll drive thee back.
- Thy scarlet robes as a child's bearing-cloth
- I'll use to carry thee out of this place.
- WINCHESTER. Do what thou dar'st; I beard thee to thy face.
- GLOUCESTER. What! am I dar'd and bearded to my face?
- Draw, men, for all this privileged place
- Blue-coats to tawny-coats. Priest, beware your beard;
- I mean to tug it, and to cuff you soundly;
- Under my feet I stamp thy cardinal's hat;
- In spite of Pope or dignities of church,
- Here by the cheeks I'll drag thee up and down.
- WINCHESTER. Gloucester, thou wilt answer this before the
- Pope.
- GLOUCESTER. Winchester goose! I cry 'A rope, a rope!'
- Now beat them hence; why do you let them stay?
- Thee I'll chase hence, thou wolf in sheep's array.
- Out, tawny-coats! Out, scarlet hypocrite!
-
- Here GLOUCESTER'S men beat out the CARDINAL'S
- men; and enter in the hurly burly the MAYOR OF
- LONDON and his OFFICERS
-
- MAYOR. Fie, lords! that you, being supreme magistrates,
- Thus contumeliously should break the peace!
- GLOUCESTER. Peace, Mayor! thou know'st little of my wrongs:
- Here's Beaufort, that regards nor God nor King,
- Hath here distrain'd the Tower to his use.
- WINCHESTER. Here's Gloucester, a foe to citizens;
- One that still motions war and never peace,
- O'ercharging your free purses with large fines;
- That seeks to overthrow religion,
- Because he is Protector of the realm,
- And would have armour here out of the Tower,
- To crown himself King and suppress the Prince.
- GLOUCESTER. I Will not answer thee with words, but blows.
- [Here they skirmish again]
- MAYOR. Nought rests for me in this tumultuous strife
- But to make open proclamation.
- Come, officer, as loud as e'er thou canst,
- Cry.
- OFFICER. [Cries] All manner of men assembled here in arms
- this day against God's peace and the King's, we charge
- and command you, in his Highness' name, to repair to
- your several dwelling-places; and not to wear, handle, or
- use, any sword, weapon, or dagger, henceforward, upon
- pain of death.
- GLOUCESTER. Cardinal, I'll be no breaker of the law;
- But we shall meet and break our minds at large.
- WINCHESTER. Gloucester, we'll meet to thy cost, be sure;
- Thy heart-blood I will have for this day's work.
- MAYOR. I'll call for clubs if you will not away.
- This Cardinal's more haughty than the devil.
- GLOUCESTER. Mayor, farewell; thou dost but what thou
- mayst.
- WINCHESTER. Abominable Gloucester, guard thy head,
- For I intend to have it ere long.
- Exeunt, severally, GLOUCESTER and WINCHESTER
- with their servants
- MAYOR. See the coast clear'd, and then we will depart.
- Good God, these nobles should such stomachs bear!
- I myself fight not once in forty year. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
- SCENE 4.
-
- France. Before Orleans
-
- Enter, on the walls, the MASTER-GUNNER
- OF ORLEANS and his BOY
-
- MASTER-GUNNER. Sirrah, thou know'st how Orleans is
- besieg'd,
- And how the English have the suburbs won.
- BOY. Father, I know; and oft have shot at them,
- Howe'er unfortunate I miss'd my aim.
- MASTER-GUNNER. But now thou shalt not. Be thou rul'd
- by me.
- Chief master-gunner am I of this town;
- Something I must do to procure me grace.
- The Prince's espials have informed me
- How the English, in the suburbs close intrench'd,
- Wont, through a secret grate of iron bars
- In yonder tower, to overpeer the city,
- And thence discover how with most advantage
- They may vex us with shot or with assault.
- To intercept this inconvenience,
- A piece of ordnance 'gainst it I have plac'd;
- And even these three days have I watch'd
- If I could see them. Now do thou watch,
- For I can stay no longer.
- If thou spy'st any, run and bring me word;
- And thou shalt find me at the Governor's. Exit
- BOY. Father, I warrant you; take you no care;
- I'll never trouble you, if I may spy them. Exit
-
- Enter SALISBURY and TALBOT on the turrets, with
- SIR WILLIAM GLANSDALE, SIR THOMAS GARGRAVE,
- and others
-
- SALISBURY. Talbot, my life, my joy, again return'd!
- How wert thou handled being prisoner?
- Or by what means got'st thou to be releas'd?
- Discourse, I prithee, on this turret's top.
- TALBOT. The Earl of Bedford had a prisoner
- Call'd the brave Lord Ponton de Santrailles;
- For him was I exchang'd and ransomed.
- But with a baser man of arms by far
- Once, in contempt, they would have barter'd me;
- Which I disdaining scorn'd, and craved death
- Rather than I would be so vile esteem'd.
- In fine, redeem'd I was as I desir'd.
- But, O! the treacherous Fastolfe wounds my heart
- Whom with my bare fists I would execute,
- If I now had him brought into my power.
- SALISBURY. Yet tell'st thou not how thou wert entertain'd.
- TALBOT. With scoffs, and scorns, and contumelious taunts,
- In open market-place produc'd they me
- To be a public spectacle to all;
- Here, said they, is the terror of the French,
- The scarecrow that affrights our children so.
- Then broke I from the officers that led me,
- And with my nails digg'd stones out of the ground
- To hurl at the beholders of my shame;
- My grisly countenance made others fly;
- None durst come near for fear of sudden death.
- In iron walls they deem'd me not secure;
- So great fear of my name 'mongst them was spread
- That they suppos'd I could rend bars of steel
- And spurn in pieces posts of adamant;
- Wherefore a guard of chosen shot I had
- That walk'd about me every minute-while;
- And if I did but stir out of my bed,
- Ready they were to shoot me to the heart.
-
- Enter the BOY with a linstock
-
- SALISBURY. I grieve to hear what torments you endur'd;
- But we will be reveng'd sufficiently.
- Now it is supper-time in Orleans:
- Here, through this grate, I count each one
- And view the Frenchmen how they fortify.
- Let us look in; the sight will much delight thee.
- Sir Thomas Gargrave and Sir William Glansdale,
- Let me have your express opinions
- Where is best place to make our batt'ry next.
- GARGRAVE. I think at the North Gate; for there stand lords.
- GLANSDALE. And I here, at the bulwark of the bridge.
- TALBOT. For aught I see, this city must be famish'd,
- Or with light skirmishes enfeebled.
- [Here they shoot and SALISBURY and GARGRAVE
- fall down]
- SALISBURY. O Lord, have mercy on us, wretched sinners!
- GARGRAVE. O Lord, have mercy on me, woeful man!
- TALBOT. What chance is this that suddenly hath cross'd us?
- Speak, Salisbury; at least, if thou canst speak.
- How far'st thou, mirror of all martial men?
- One of thy eyes and thy cheek's side struck off!
- Accursed tower! accursed fatal hand
- That hath contriv'd this woeful tragedy!
- In thirteen battles Salisbury o'ercame;
- Henry the Fifth he first train'd to the wars;
- Whilst any trump did sound or drum struck up,
- His sword did ne'er leave striking in the field.
- Yet liv'st thou, Salisbury? Though thy speech doth fail,
- One eye thou hast to look to heaven for grace;
- The sun with one eye vieweth all the world.
- Heaven, be thou gracious to none alive
- If Salisbury wants mercy at thy hands!
- Bear hence his body; I will help to bury it.
- Sir Thomas Gargrave, hast thou any life?
- Speak unto Talbot; nay, look up to him.
- Salisbury, cheer thy spirit with this comfort,
- Thou shalt not die whiles
- He beckons with his hand and smiles on me,
- As who should say 'When I am dead and gone,
- Remember to avenge me on the French.'
- Plantagenet, I will; and like thee, Nero,
- Play on the lute, beholding the towns burn.
- Wretched shall France be only in my name.
- [Here an alarum, and it thunders and lightens]
- What stir is this? What tumult's in the heavens?
- Whence cometh this alarum and the noise?
-
- Enter a MESSENGER
-
- MESSENGER. My lord, my lord, the French have gather'd
- head
- The Dauphin, with one Joan la Pucelle join'd,
- A holy prophetess new risen up,
- Is come with a great power to raise the siege.
- [Here SALISBURY lifteth himself up and groans]
- TALBOT. Hear, hear how dying Salisbury doth groan.
- It irks his heart he cannot be reveng'd.
- Frenchmen, I'll be a Salisbury to you.
- Pucelle or puzzel, dolphin or dogfish,
- Your hearts I'll stamp out with my horse's heels
- And make a quagmire of your mingled brains.
- Convey me Salisbury into his tent,
- And then we'll try what these dastard Frenchmen dare.
- Alarum. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
- SCENE 5.
-
- Before Orleans
-
- Here an alarum again, and TALBOT pursueth the
- DAUPHIN and driveth him. Then enter JOAN LA PUCELLE
- driving Englishmen before her. Then enter TALBOT
-
- TALBOT. Where is my strength, my valour, and my force?
- Our English troops retire, I cannot stay them;
- A woman clad in armour chaseth them.
-
- Enter LA PUCELLE
-
- Here, here she comes. I'll have a bout with thee.
- Devil or devil's dam, I'll conjure thee;
- Blood will I draw on thee-thou art a witch
- And straightway give thy soul to him thou serv'st.
- PUCELLE. Come, come, 'tis only I that must disgrace thee.
- [Here they fight]
- TALBOT. Heavens, can you suffer hell so to prevail?
- My breast I'll burst with straining of my courage.
- And from my shoulders crack my arms asunder,
- But I will chastise this high minded strumpet.
- [They fight again]
- PUCELLE. Talbot, farewell; thy hour is not yet come.
- I must go victual Orleans forthwith.
- [A short alarum; then enter the town with soldiers]
- O'ertake me if thou canst; I scorn thy strength.
- Go, go, cheer up thy hungry starved men;
- Help Salisbury to make his testament.
- This day is ours, as many more shall be. Exit
- TALBOT. My thoughts are whirled like a potter's wheel;
- I know not where I am nor what I do.
- A witch by fear, not force, like Hannibal,
- Drives back our troops and conquers as she lists.
- So bees with smoke and doves with noisome stench
- Are from their hives and houses driven away.
- They call'd us, for our fierceness, English dogs;
- Now like to whelps we crying run away.
- [A short alarum]
- Hark, countrymen! Either renew the fight
- Or tear the lions out of England's coat;
- Renounce your soil, give sheep in lions' stead:
- Sheep run not half so treacherous from the wolf,
- Or horse or oxen from the leopard,
- As you fly from your oft subdued slaves.
- [Alarum. Here another skirmish]
- It will not be-retire into your trenches.
- You all consented unto Salisbury's death,
- For none would strike a stroke in his revenge.
- Pucelle is ent'red into Orleans
- In spite of us or aught that we could do.
- O, would I were to die with Salisbury!
- The shame hereof will make me hide my head.
- Exit TALBOT. Alarum; retreat
-
-
-
- SCENE 6.
-
- ORLEANS
-
- Flourish. Enter on the walls, LA PUCELLE, CHARLES,
- REIGNIER, ALENCON, and soldiers
-
- PUCELLE. Advance our waving colours on the walls;
- Rescu'd is Orleans from the English.
- Thus Joan la Pucelle hath perform'd her word.
- CHARLES. Divinest creature, Astraea's daughter,
- How shall I honour thee for this success?
- Thy promises are like Adonis' gardens,
- That one day bloom'd and fruitful were the next.
- France, triumph in thy glorious prophetess.
- Recover'd is the town of Orleans.
- More blessed hap did ne'er befall our state.
- REIGNIER. Why ring not out the bells aloud throughout the
- town?
- Dauphin, command the citizens make bonfires
- And feast and banquet in the open streets
- To celebrate the joy that God hath given us.
- ALENCON. All France will be replete with mirth and joy
- When they shall hear how we have play'd the men.
- CHARLES. 'Tis Joan, not we, by whom the day is won;
- For which I will divide my crown with her;
- And all the priests and friars in my realm
- Shall in procession sing her endless praise.
- A statelier pyramis to her I'll rear
- Than Rhodope's of Memphis ever was.
- In memory of her, when she is dead,
- Her ashes, in an urn more precious
- Than the rich jewel'd coffer of Darius,
- Transported shall be at high festivals
- Before the kings and queens of France.
- No longer on Saint Denis will we cry,
- But Joan la Pucelle shall be France's saint.
- Come in, and let us banquet royally
- After this golden day of victory. Flourish. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT II. SCENE 1.
-
-Before Orleans
-
-Enter a FRENCH SERGEANT and two SENTINELS
-
- SERGEANT. Sirs, take your places and be vigilant.
- If any noise or soldier you perceive
- Near to the walls, by some apparent sign
- Let us have knowledge at the court of guard.
- FIRST SENTINEL. Sergeant, you shall. [Exit SERGEANT]
- Thus are poor servitors,
- When others sleep upon their quiet beds,
- Constrain'd to watch in darkness, rain, and cold.
-
- Enter TALBOT, BEDFORD, BURGUNDY, and forces,
- with scaling-ladders; their drums beating a dead
- march
-
- TALBOT. Lord Regent, and redoubted Burgundy,
- By whose approach the regions of Artois,
- Wallon, and Picardy, are friends to us,
- This happy night the Frenchmen are secure,
- Having all day carous'd and banqueted;
- Embrace we then this opportunity,
- As fitting best to quittance their deceit,
- Contriv'd by art and baleful sorcery.
- BEDFORD. Coward of France, how much he wrongs his fame,
- Despairing of his own arm's fortitude,
- To join with witches and the help of hell!
- BURGUNDY. Traitors have never other company.
- But what's that Pucelle whom they term so pure?
- TALBOT. A maid, they say.
- BEDFORD. A maid! and be so martial!
- BURGUNDY. Pray God she prove not masculine ere long,
- If underneath the standard of the French
- She carry armour as she hath begun.
- TALBOT. Well, let them practise and converse with spirits:
- God is our fortress, in whose conquering name
- Let us resolve to scale their flinty bulwarks.
- BEDFORD. Ascend, brave Talbot; we will follow thee.
- TALBOT. Not all together; better far, I guess,
- That we do make our entrance several ways;
- That if it chance the one of us do fail
- The other yet may rise against their force.
- BEDFORD. Agreed; I'll to yond corner.
- BURGUNDY. And I to this.
- TALBOT. And here will Talbot mount or make his grave.
- Now, Salisbury, for thee, and for the right
- Of English Henry, shall this night appear
- How much in duty I am bound to both.
- [The English scale the walls and cry 'Saint George!
- a Talbot!']
- SENTINEL. Arm! arm! The enemy doth make assault.
-
- The French leap o'er the walls in their shirts.
- Enter, several ways, BASTARD, ALENCON, REIGNIER,
- half ready and half unready
-
- ALENCON. How now, my lords? What, all unready so?
- BASTARD. Unready! Ay, and glad we 'scap'd so well.
- REIGNIER. 'Twas time, I trow, to wake and leave our beds,
- Hearing alarums at our chamber doors.
- ALENCON. Of all exploits since first I follow'd arms
- Ne'er heard I of a warlike enterprise
- More venturous or desperate than this.
- BASTARD. I think this Talbot be a fiend of hell.
- REIGNIER. If not of hell, the heavens, sure, favour him
- ALENCON. Here cometh Charles; I marvel how he sped.
-
- Enter CHARLES and LA PUCELLE
-
- BASTARD. Tut! holy Joan was his defensive guard.
- CHARLES. Is this thy cunning, thou deceitful dame?
- Didst thou at first, to flatter us withal,
- Make us partakers of a little gain
- That now our loss might be ten times so much?
- PUCELLE. Wherefore is Charles impatient with his friend?
- At all times will you have my power alike?
- Sleeping or waking, must I still prevail
- Or will you blame and lay the fault on me?
- Improvident soldiers! Had your watch been good
- This sudden mischief never could have fall'n.
- CHARLES. Duke of Alencon, this was your default
- That, being captain of the watch to-night,
- Did look no better to that weighty charge.
- ALENCON. Had all your quarters been as safely kept
- As that whereof I had the government,
- We had not been thus shamefully surpris'd.
- BASTARD. Mine was secure.
- REIGNIER. And so was mine, my lord.
- CHARLES. And, for myself, most part of all this night,
- Within her quarter and mine own precinct
- I was employ'd in passing to and fro
- About relieving of the sentinels.
- Then how or which way should they first break in?
- PUCELLE. Question, my lords, no further of the case,
- How or which way; 'tis sure they found some place
- But weakly guarded, where the breach was made.
- And now there rests no other shift but this
- To gather our soldiers, scatter'd and dispers'd,
- And lay new platforms to endamage them.
-
- Alarum. Enter an ENGLISH SOLDIER, crying
- 'A Talbot! A Talbot!' They fly, leaving their
- clothes behind
-
- SOLDIER. I'll be so bold to take what they have left.
- The cry of Talbot serves me for a sword;
- For I have loaden me with many spoils,
- Using no other weapon but his name. Exit
-
-
-
-
- SCENE 2.
-
- ORLEANS. Within the town
-
- Enter TALBOT, BEDFORD, BURGUNDY, a CAPTAIN,
- and others
-
- BEDFORD. The day begins to break, and night is fled
- Whose pitchy mantle over-veil'd the earth.
- Here sound retreat and cease our hot pursuit.
- [Retreat sounded]
- TALBOT. Bring forth the body of old Salisbury
- And here advance it in the market-place,
- The middle centre of this cursed town.
- Now have I paid my vow unto his soul;
- For every drop of blood was drawn from him
- There hath at least five Frenchmen died to-night.
- And that hereafter ages may behold
- What ruin happened in revenge of him,
- Within their chiefest temple I'll erect
- A tomb, wherein his corpse shall be interr'd;
- Upon the which, that every one may read,
- Shall be engrav'd the sack of Orleans,
- The treacherous manner of his mournful death,
- And what a terror he had been to France.
- But, lords, in all our bloody massacre,
- I muse we met not with the Dauphin's grace,
- His new-come champion, virtuous Joan of Arc,
- Nor any of his false confederates.
- BEDFORD. 'Tis thought, Lord Talbot, when the fight began,
- Rous'd on the sudden from their drowsy beds,
- They did amongst the troops of armed men
- Leap o'er the walls for refuge in the field.
- BURGUNDY. Myself, as far as I could well discern
- For smoke and dusky vapours of the night,
- Am sure I scar'd the Dauphin and his trull,
- When arm in arm they both came swiftly running,
- Like to a pair of loving turtle-doves
- That could not live asunder day or night.
- After that things are set in order here,
- We'll follow them with all the power we have.
-
- Enter a MESSENGER
-
- MESSENGER. All hail, my lords! Which of this princely train
- Call ye the warlike Talbot, for his acts
- So much applauded through the realm of France?
- TALBOT. Here is the Talbot; who would speak with him?
- MESSENGER. The virtuous lady, Countess of Auvergne,
- With modesty admiring thy renown,
- By me entreats, great lord, thou wouldst vouchsafe
- To visit her poor castle where she lies,
- That she may boast she hath beheld the man
- Whose glory fills the world with loud report.
- BURGUNDY. Is it even so? Nay, then I see our wars
- Will turn into a peaceful comic sport,
- When ladies crave to be encount'red with.
- You may not, my lord, despise her gentle suit.
- TALBOT. Ne'er trust me then; for when a world of men
- Could not prevail with all their oratory,
- Yet hath a woman's kindness overrul'd;
- And therefore tell her I return great thanks
- And in submission will attend on her.
- Will not your honours bear me company?
- BEDFORD. No, truly; 'tis more than manners will;
- And I have heard it said unbidden guests
- Are often welcomest when they are gone.
- TALBOT. Well then, alone, since there's no remedy,
- I mean to prove this lady's courtesy.
- Come hither, Captain. [Whispers] You perceive my mind?
- CAPTAIN. I do, my lord, and mean accordingly. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
- SCENE 3.
-
- AUVERGNE. The Castle
-
- Enter the COUNTESS and her PORTER
-
- COUNTESS. Porter, remember what I gave in charge;
- And when you have done so, bring the keys to me.
- PORTER. Madam, I will.
- COUNTESS. The plot is laid; if all things fall out right,
- I shall as famous be by this exploit.
- As Scythian Tomyris by Cyrus' death.
- Great is the rumour of this dreadful knight,
- And his achievements of no less account.
- Fain would mine eyes be witness with mine ears
- To give their censure of these rare reports.
-
- Enter MESSENGER and TALBOT.
-
- MESSENGER. Madam, according as your ladyship desir'd,
- By message crav'd, so is Lord Talbot come.
- COUNTESS. And he is welcome. What! is this the man?
- MESSENGER. Madam, it is.
- COUNTESS. Is this the scourge of France?
- Is this Talbot, so much fear'd abroad
- That with his name the mothers still their babes?
- I see report is fabulous and false.
- I thought I should have seen some Hercules,
- A second Hector, for his grim aspect
- And large proportion of his strong-knit limbs.
- Alas, this is a child, a silly dwarf!
- It cannot be this weak and writhled shrimp
- Should strike such terror to his enemies.
- TALBOT. Madam, I have been bold to trouble you;
- But since your ladyship is not at leisure,
- I'll sort some other time to visit you. [Going]
- COUNTESS. What means he now? Go ask him whither he
- goes.
- MESSENGER. Stay, my Lord Talbot; for my lady craves
- To know the cause of your abrupt departure.
- TALBOT. Marry, for that she's in a wrong belief,
- I go to certify her Talbot's here.
-
- Re-enter PORTER With keys
-
- COUNTESS. If thou be he, then art thou prisoner.
- TALBOT. Prisoner! To whom?
- COUNTESS. To me, blood-thirsty lord
- And for that cause I train'd thee to my house.
- Long time thy shadow hath been thrall to me,
- For in my gallery thy picture hangs;
- But now the substance shall endure the like
- And I will chain these legs and arms of thine
- That hast by tyranny these many years
- Wasted our country, slain our citizens,
- And sent our sons and husbands captivate.
- TALBOT. Ha, ha, ha!
- COUNTESS. Laughest thou, wretch? Thy mirth shall turn to
- moan.
- TALBOT. I laugh to see your ladyship so fond
- To think that you have aught but Talbot's shadow
- Whereon to practise your severity.
- COUNTESS. Why, art not thou the man?
- TALBOT. I am indeed.
- COUNTESS. Then have I substance too.
- TALBOT. No, no, I am but shadow of myself.
- You are deceiv'd, my substance is not here;
- For what you see is but the smallest part
- And least proportion of humanity.
- I tell you, madam, were the whole frame here,
- It is of such a spacious lofty pitch
- Your roof were not sufficient to contain 't.
- COUNTESS. This is a riddling merchant for the nonce;
- He will be here, and yet he is not here.
- How can these contrarieties agree?
- TALBOT. That will I show you presently.
-
- Winds his horn; drums strike up;
- a peal of ordnance. Enter soldiers
-
- How say you, madam? Are you now persuaded
- That Talbot is but shadow of himself?
- These are his substance, sinews, arms, and strength,
- With which he yoketh your rebellious necks,
- Razeth your cities, and subverts your towns,
- And in a moment makes them desolate.
- COUNTESS. Victorious Talbot! pardon my abuse.
- I find thou art no less than fame hath bruited,
- And more than may be gathered by thy shape.
- Let my presumption not provoke thy wrath,
- For I am sorry that with reverence
- I did not entertain thee as thou art.
- TALBOT. Be not dismay'd, fair lady; nor misconster
- The mind of Talbot as you did mistake
- The outward composition of his body.
- What you have done hath not offended me.
- Nor other satisfaction do I crave
- But only, with your patience, that we may
- Taste of your wine and see what cates you have,
- For soldiers' stomachs always serve them well.
- COUNTESS. With all my heart, and think me honoured
- To feast so great a warrior in my house. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
- SCENE 4.
-
- London. The Temple garden
-
- Enter the EARLS OF SOMERSET, SUFFOLK, and WARWICK;
- RICHARD PLANTAGENET, VERNON, and another LAWYER
-
- PLANTAGENET. Great lords and gentlemen, what means this
- silence?
- Dare no man answer in a case of truth?
- SUFFOLK. Within the Temple Hall we were too loud;
- The garden here is more convenient.
- PLANTAGENET. Then say at once if I maintain'd the truth;
- Or else was wrangling Somerset in th' error?
- SUFFOLK. Faith, I have been a truant in the law
- And never yet could frame my will to it;
- And therefore frame the law unto my will.
- SOMERSET. Judge you, my Lord of Warwick, then, between us.
- WARWICK. Between two hawks, which flies the higher pitch;
- Between two dogs, which hath the deeper mouth;
- Between two blades, which bears the better temper;
- Between two horses, which doth bear him best;
- Between two girls, which hath the merriest eye
- I have perhaps some shallow spirit of judgment;
- But in these nice sharp quillets of the law,
- Good faith, I am no wiser than a daw.
- PLANTAGENET. Tut, tut, here is a mannerly forbearance:
- The truth appears so naked on my side
- That any purblind eye may find it out.
- SOMERSET. And on my side it is so well apparell'd,
- So clear, so shining, and so evident,
- That it will glimmer through a blind man's eye.
- PLANTAGENET. Since you are tongue-tied and so loath to speak,
- In dumb significants proclaim your thoughts.
- Let him that is a true-born gentleman
- And stands upon the honour of his birth,
- If he suppose that I have pleaded truth,
- From off this brier pluck a white rose with me.
- SOMERSET. Let him that is no coward nor no flatterer,
- But dare maintain the party of the truth,
- Pluck a red rose from off this thorn with me.
- WARWICK. I love no colours; and, without all colour
- Of base insinuating flattery,
- I pluck this white rose with Plantagenet.
- SUFFOLK. I pluck this red rose with young Somerset,
- And say withal I think he held the right.
- VERNON. Stay, lords and gentlemen, and pluck no more
- Till you conclude that he upon whose side
- The fewest roses are cropp'd from the tree
- Shall yield the other in the right opinion.
- SOMERSET. Good Master Vernon, it is well objected;
- If I have fewest, I subscribe in silence.
- PLANTAGENET. And I.
- VERNON. Then, for the truth and plainness of the case,
- I pluck this pale and maiden blossom here,
- Giving my verdict on the white rose side.
- SOMERSET. Prick not your finger as you pluck it off,
- Lest, bleeding, you do paint the white rose red,
- And fall on my side so, against your will.
- VERNON. If I, my lord, for my opinion bleed,
- Opinion shall be surgeon to my hurt
- And keep me on the side where still I am.
- SOMERSET. Well, well, come on; who else?
- LAWYER. [To Somerset] Unless my study and my books be
- false,
- The argument you held was wrong in you;
- In sign whereof I pluck a white rose too.
- PLANTAGENET. Now, Somerset, where is your argument?
- SOMERSET. Here in my scabbard, meditating that
- Shall dye your white rose in a bloody red.
- PLANTAGENET. Meantime your cheeks do counterfeit our
- roses;
- For pale they look with fear, as witnessing
- The truth on our side.
- SOMERSET. No, Plantagenet,
- 'Tis not for fear but anger that thy cheeks
- Blush for pure shame to counterfeit our roses,
- And yet thy tongue will not confess thy error.
- PLANTAGENET. Hath not thy rose a canker, Somerset?
- SOMERSET. Hath not thy rose a thorn, Plantagenet?
- PLANTAGENET. Ay, sharp and piercing, to maintain his truth;
- Whiles thy consuming canker eats his falsehood.
- SOMERSET. Well, I'll find friends to wear my bleeding roses,
- That shall maintain what I have said is true,
- Where false Plantagenet dare not be seen.
- PLANTAGENET. Now, by this maiden blossom in my hand,
- I scorn thee and thy fashion, peevish boy.
- SUFFOLK. Turn not thy scorns this way, Plantagenet.
- PLANTAGENET. Proud Pole, I will, and scorn both him and
- thee.
- SUFFOLK. I'll turn my part thereof into thy throat.
- SOMERSET. Away, away, good William de la Pole!
- We grace the yeoman by conversing with him.
- WARWICK. Now, by God's will, thou wrong'st him, Somerset;
- His grandfather was Lionel Duke of Clarence,
- Third son to the third Edward, King of England.
- Spring crestless yeomen from so deep a root?
- PLANTAGENET. He bears him on the place's privilege,
- Or durst not for his craven heart say thus.
- SOMERSET. By Him that made me, I'll maintain my words
- On any plot of ground in Christendom.
- Was not thy father, Richard Earl of Cambridge,
- For treason executed in our late king's days?
- And by his treason stand'st not thou attainted,
- Corrupted, and exempt from ancient gentry?
- His trespass yet lives guilty in thy blood;
- And till thou be restor'd thou art a yeoman.
- PLANTAGENET. My father was attached, not attainted;
- Condemn'd to die for treason, but no traitor;
- And that I'll prove on better men than Somerset,
- Were growing time once ripened to my will.
- For your partaker Pole, and you yourself,
- I'll note you in my book of memory
- To scourge you for this apprehension.
- Look to it well, and say you are well warn'd.
- SOMERSET. Ay, thou shalt find us ready for thee still;
- And know us by these colours for thy foes
- For these my friends in spite of thee shall wear.
- PLANTAGENET. And, by my soul, this pale and angry rose,
- As cognizance of my blood-drinking hate,
- Will I for ever, and my faction, wear,
- Until it wither with me to my grave,
- Or flourish to the height of my degree.
- SUFFOLK. Go forward, and be chok'd with thy ambition!
- And so farewell until I meet thee next. Exit
- SOMERSET. Have with thee, Pole. Farewell, ambitious
- Richard. Exit
- PLANTAGENET. How I am brav'd, and must perforce endure
- it!
- WARWICK. This blot that they object against your house
- Shall be wip'd out in the next Parliament,
- Call'd for the truce of Winchester and Gloucester;
- And if thou be not then created York,
- I will not live to be accounted Warwick.
- Meantime, in signal of my love to thee,
- Against proud Somerset and William Pole,
- Will I upon thy party wear this rose;
- And here I prophesy: this brawl to-day,
- Grown to this faction in the Temple Garden,
- Shall send between the Red Rose and the White
- A thousand souls to death and deadly night.
- PLANTAGENET. Good Master Vernon, I am bound to you
- That you on my behalf would pluck a flower.
- VERNON. In your behalf still will I wear the same.
- LAWYER. And so will I.
- PLANTAGENET. Thanks, gentle sir.
- Come, let us four to dinner. I dare say
- This quarrel will drink blood another day. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
- SCENE 5.
-
- The Tower of London
-
- Enter MORTIMER, brought in a chair, and GAOLERS
-
- MORTIMER. Kind keepers of my weak decaying age,
- Let dying Mortimer here rest himself.
- Even like a man new haled from the rack,
- So fare my limbs with long imprisonment;
- And these grey locks, the pursuivants of death,
- Nestor-like aged in an age of care,
- Argue the end of Edmund Mortimer.
- These eyes, like lamps whose wasting oil is spent,
- Wax dim, as drawing to their exigent;
- Weak shoulders, overborne with burdening grief,
- And pithless arms, like to a withered vine
- That droops his sapless branches to the ground.
- Yet are these feet, whose strengthless stay is numb,
- Unable to support this lump of clay,
- Swift-winged with desire to get a grave,
- As witting I no other comfort have.
- But tell me, keeper, will my nephew come?
- FIRST KEEPER. Richard Plantagenet, my lord, will come.
- We sent unto the Temple, unto his chamber;
- And answer was return'd that he will come.
- MORTIMER. Enough; my soul shall then be satisfied.
- Poor gentleman! his wrong doth equal mine.
- Since Henry Monmouth first began to reign,
- Before whose glory I was great in arms,
- This loathsome sequestration have I had;
- And even since then hath Richard been obscur'd,
- Depriv'd of honour and inheritance.
- But now the arbitrator of despairs,
- Just Death, kind umpire of men's miseries,
- With sweet enlargement doth dismiss me hence.
- I would his troubles likewise were expir'd,
- That so he might recover what was lost.
-
- Enter RICHARD PLANTAGENET
-
- FIRST KEEPER. My lord, your loving nephew now is come.
- MORTIMER. Richard Plantagenet, my friend, is he come?
- PLANTAGENET. Ay, noble uncle, thus ignobly us'd,
- Your nephew, late despised Richard, comes.
- MORTIMER. Direct mine arms I may embrace his neck
- And in his bosom spend my latter gasp.
- O, tell me when my lips do touch his cheeks,
- That I may kindly give one fainting kiss.
- And now declare, sweet stem from York's great stock,
- Why didst thou say of late thou wert despis'd?
- PLANTAGENET. First, lean thine aged back against mine arm;
- And, in that ease, I'll tell thee my disease.
- This day, in argument upon a case,
- Some words there grew 'twixt Somerset and me;
- Among which terms he us'd his lavish tongue
- And did upbraid me with my father's death;
- Which obloquy set bars before my tongue,
- Else with the like I had requited him.
- Therefore, good uncle, for my father's sake,
- In honour of a true Plantagenet,
- And for alliance sake, declare the cause
- My father, Earl of Cambridge, lost his head.
- MORTIMER. That cause, fair nephew, that imprison'd me
- And hath detain'd me all my flow'ring youth
- Within a loathsome dungeon, there to pine,
- Was cursed instrument of his decease.
- PLANTAGENET. Discover more at large what cause that was,
- For I am ignorant and cannot guess.
- MORTIMER. I will, if that my fading breath permit
- And death approach not ere my tale be done.
- Henry the Fourth, grandfather to this king,
- Depos'd his nephew Richard, Edward's son,
- The first-begotten and the lawful heir
- Of Edward king, the third of that descent;
- During whose reign the Percies of the north,
- Finding his usurpation most unjust,
- Endeavour'd my advancement to the throne.
- The reason mov'd these warlike lords to this
- Was, for that-young Richard thus remov'd,
- Leaving no heir begotten of his body-
- I was the next by birth and parentage;
- For by my mother I derived am
- From Lionel Duke of Clarence, third son
- To King Edward the Third; whereas he
- From John of Gaunt doth bring his pedigree,
- Being but fourth of that heroic line.
- But mark: as in this haughty great attempt
- They laboured to plant the rightful heir,
- I lost my liberty, and they their lives.
- Long after this, when Henry the Fifth,
- Succeeding his father Bolingbroke, did reign,
- Thy father, Earl of Cambridge, then deriv'd
- From famous Edmund Langley, Duke of York,
- Marrying my sister, that thy mother was,
- Again, in pity of my hard distress,
- Levied an army, weening to redeem
- And have install'd me in the diadem;
- But, as the rest, so fell that noble earl,
- And was beheaded. Thus the Mortimers,
- In whom the title rested, were suppress'd.
- PLANTAGENET. Of Which, my lord, your honour is the last.
- MORTIMER. True; and thou seest that I no issue have,
- And that my fainting words do warrant death.
- Thou art my heir; the rest I wish thee gather;
- But yet be wary in thy studious care.
- PLANTAGENET. Thy grave admonishments prevail with me.
- But yet methinks my father's execution
- Was nothing less than bloody tyranny.
- MORTIMER. With silence, nephew, be thou politic;
- Strong fixed is the house of Lancaster
- And like a mountain not to be remov'd.
- But now thy uncle is removing hence,
- As princes do their courts when they are cloy'd
- With long continuance in a settled place.
- PLANTAGENET. O uncle, would some part of my young years
- Might but redeem the passage of your age!
- MORTIMER. Thou dost then wrong me, as that slaughterer
- doth
- Which giveth many wounds when one will kill.
- Mourn not, except thou sorrow for my good;
- Only give order for my funeral.
- And so, farewell; and fair be all thy hopes,
- And prosperous be thy life in peace and war! [Dies]
- PLANTAGENET. And peace, no war, befall thy parting soul!
- In prison hast thou spent a pilgrimage,
- And like a hermit overpass'd thy days.
- Well, I will lock his counsel in my breast;
- And what I do imagine, let that rest.
- Keepers, convey him hence; and I myself
- Will see his burial better than his life.
- Exeunt GAOLERS, hearing out the body of MORTIMER
- Here dies the dusky torch of Mortimer,
- Chok'd with ambition of the meaner sort;
- And for those wrongs, those bitter injuries,
- Which Somerset hath offer'd to my house,
- I doubt not but with honour to redress;
- And therefore haste I to the Parliament,
- Either to be restored to my blood,
- Or make my ill th' advantage of my good. Exit
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT III. SCENE 1.
-
-London. The Parliament House
-
-Flourish. Enter the KING, EXETER, GLOUCESTER, WARWICK, SOMERSET, and SUFFOLK;
-the BISHOP OF WINCHESTER, RICHARD PLANTAGENET, and others.
-GLOUCESTER offers to put up a bill; WINCHESTER snatches it, and tears it
-
- WINCHESTER. Com'st thou with deep premeditated lines,
- With written pamphlets studiously devis'd?
- Humphrey of Gloucester, if thou canst accuse
- Or aught intend'st to lay unto my charge,
- Do it without invention, suddenly;
- I with sudden and extemporal speech
- Purpose to answer what thou canst object.
- GLOUCESTER. Presumptuous priest, this place commands my
- patience,
- Or thou shouldst find thou hast dishonour'd me.
- Think not, although in writing I preferr'd
- The manner of thy vile outrageous crimes,
- That therefore I have forg'd, or am not able
- Verbatim to rehearse the method of my pen.
- No, prelate; such is thy audacious wickedness,
- Thy lewd, pestiferous, and dissentious pranks,
- As very infants prattle of thy pride.
- Thou art a most pernicious usurer;
- Froward by nature, enemy to peace;
- Lascivious, wanton, more than well beseems
- A man of thy profession and degree;
- And for thy treachery, what's more manifest
- In that thou laid'st a trap to take my life,
- As well at London Bridge as at the Tower?
- Beside, I fear me, if thy thoughts were sifted,
- The King, thy sovereign, is not quite exempt
- From envious malice of thy swelling heart.
- WINCHESTER. Gloucester, I do defy thee. Lords, vouchsafe
- To give me hearing what I shall reply.
- If I were covetous, ambitious, or perverse,
- As he will have me, how am I so poor?
- Or how haps it I seek not to advance
- Or raise myself, but keep my wonted calling?
- And for dissension, who preferreth peace
- More than I do, except I be provok'd?
- No, my good lords, it is not that offends;
- It is not that that incens'd hath incens'd the Duke:
- It is because no one should sway but he;
- No one but he should be about the King;
- And that engenders thunder in his breast
- And makes him roar these accusations forth.
- But he shall know I am as good
- GLOUCESTER. As good!
- Thou bastard of my grandfather!
- WINCHESTER. Ay, lordly sir; for what are you, I pray,
- But one imperious in another's throne?
- GLOUCESTER. Am I not Protector, saucy priest?
- WINCHESTER. And am not I a prelate of the church?
- GLOUCESTER. Yes, as an outlaw in a castle keeps,
- And useth it to patronage his theft.
- WINCHESTER. Unreverent Gloucester!
- GLOUCESTER. Thou art reverend
- Touching thy spiritual function, not thy life.
- WINCHESTER. Rome shall remedy this.
- WARWICK. Roam thither then.
- SOMERSET. My lord, it were your duty to forbear.
- WARWICK. Ay, see the bishop be not overborne.
- SOMERSET. Methinks my lord should be religious,
- And know the office that belongs to such.
- WARWICK. Methinks his lordship should be humbler;
- It fitteth not a prelate so to plead.
- SOMERSET. Yes, when his holy state is touch'd so near.
- WARWICK. State holy or unhallow'd, what of that?
- Is not his Grace Protector to the King?
- PLANTAGENET. [Aside] Plantagenet, I see, must hold his
- tongue,
- Lest it be said 'Speak, sirrah, when you should;
- Must your bold verdict enter talk with lords?'
- Else would I have a fling at Winchester.
- KING HENRY. Uncles of Gloucester and of Winchester,
- The special watchmen of our English weal,
- I would prevail, if prayers might prevail
- To join your hearts in love and amity.
- O, what a scandal is it to our crown
- That two such noble peers as ye should jar!
- Believe me, lords, my tender years can tell
- Civil dissension is a viperous worm
- That gnaws the bowels of the commonwealth.
- [A noise within: 'Down with the tawny coats!']
- What tumult's this?
- WARWICK. An uproar, I dare warrant,
- Begun through malice of the Bishop's men.
- [A noise again: 'Stones! Stones!']
-
- Enter the MAYOR OF LONDON, attended
-
- MAYOR. O, my good lords, and virtuous Henry,
- Pity the city of London, pity us!
- The Bishop and the Duke of Gloucester's men,
- Forbidden late to carry any weapon,
- Have fill'd their pockets full of pebble stones
- And, banding themselves in contrary parts,
- Do pelt so fast at one another's pate
- That many have their giddy brains knock'd out.
- Our windows are broke down in every street,
- And we for fear compell'd to shut our shops.
-
- Enter in skirmish, the retainers of GLOUCESTER and
- WINCHESTER, with bloody pates
-
- KING HENRY. We charge you, on allegiance to ourself,
- To hold your slaught'ring hands and keep the peace.
- Pray, uncle Gloucester, mitigate this strife.
- FIRST SERVING-MAN. Nay, if we be forbidden stones, we'll
- fall to it with our teeth.
- SECOND SERVING-MAN. Do what ye dare, we are as resolute.
- [Skirmish again]
- GLOUCESTER. You of my household, leave this peevish broil,
- And set this unaccustom'd fight aside.
- THIRD SERVING-MAN. My lord, we know your Grace to be a
- man
- Just and upright, and for your royal birth
- Inferior to none but to his Majesty;
- And ere that we will suffer such a prince,
- So kind a father of the commonweal,
- To be disgraced by an inkhorn mate,
- We and our wives and children all will fight
- And have our bodies slaught'red by thy foes.
- FIRST SERVING-MAN. Ay, and the very parings of our nails
- Shall pitch a field when we are dead. [Begin again]
- GLOUCESTER. Stay, stay, I say!
- And if you love me, as you say you do,
- Let me persuade you to forbear awhile.
- KING HENRY. O, how this discord doth afflict my soul!
- Can you, my Lord of Winchester, behold
- My sighs and tears and will not once relent?
- Who should be pitiful, if you be not?
- Or who should study to prefer a peace,
- If holy churchmen take delight in broils?
- WARWICK. Yield, my Lord Protector; yield, Winchester;
- Except you mean with obstinate repulse
- To slay your sovereign and destroy the realm.
- You see what mischief, and what murder too,
- Hath been enacted through your enmity;
- Then be at peace, except ye thirst for blood.
- WINCHESTER. He shall submit, or I will never yield.
- GLOUCESTER. Compassion on the King commands me stoop,
- Or I would see his heart out ere the priest
- Should ever get that privilege of me.
- WARWICK. Behold, my Lord of Winchester, the Duke
- Hath banish'd moody discontented fury,
- As by his smoothed brows it doth appear;
- Why look you still so stem and tragical?
- GLOUCESTER. Here, Winchester, I offer thee my hand.
- KING HENRY. Fie, uncle Beaufort! I have heard you preach
- That malice was a great and grievous sin;
- And will not you maintain the thing you teach,
- But prove a chief offender in the same?
- WARWICK. Sweet King! The Bishop hath a kindly gird.
- For shame, my Lord of Winchester, relent;
- What, shall a child instruct you what to do?
- WINCHESTER. Well, Duke of Gloucester, I will yield to thee;
- Love for thy love and hand for hand I give.
- GLOUCESTER [Aside] Ay, but, I fear me, with a hollow
- heart.
- See here, my friends and loving countrymen:
- This token serveth for a flag of truce
- Betwixt ourselves and all our followers.
- So help me God, as I dissemble not!
- WINCHESTER [Aside] So help me God, as I intend it not!
- KING HENRY. O loving uncle, kind Duke of Gloucester,
- How joyful am I made by this contract!
- Away, my masters! trouble us no more;
- But join in friendship, as your lords have done.
- FIRST SERVING-MAN. Content: I'll to the surgeon's.
- SECOND SERVING-MAN. And so will I.
- THIRD SERVING-MAN. And I will see what physic the tavern
- affords. Exeunt servants, MAYOR, &C.
- WARWICK. Accept this scroll, most gracious sovereign;
- Which in the right of Richard Plantagenet
- We do exhibit to your Majesty.
- GLOUCESTER. Well urg'd, my Lord of Warwick; for, sweet
- prince,
- An if your Grace mark every circumstance,
- You have great reason to do Richard right;
- Especially for those occasions
- At Eltham Place I told your Majesty.
- KING HENRY. And those occasions, uncle, were of force;
- Therefore, my loving lords, our pleasure is
- That Richard be restored to his blood.
- WARWICK. Let Richard be restored to his blood;
- So shall his father's wrongs be recompens'd.
- WINCHESTER. As will the rest, so willeth Winchester.
- KING HENRY. If Richard will be true, not that alone
- But all the whole inheritance I give
- That doth belong unto the house of York,
- From whence you spring by lineal descent.
- PLANTAGENET. Thy humble servant vows obedience
- And humble service till the point of death.
- KING HENRY. Stoop then and set your knee against my foot;
- And in reguerdon of that duty done
- I girt thee with the valiant sword of York.
- Rise, Richard, like a true Plantagenet,
- And rise created princely Duke of York.
- PLANTAGENET. And so thrive Richard as thy foes may fall!
- And as my duty springs, so perish they
- That grudge one thought against your Majesty!
- ALL. Welcome, high Prince, the mighty Duke of York!
- SOMERSET. [Aside] Perish, base Prince, ignoble Duke of
- York!
- GLOUCESTER. Now will it best avail your Majesty
- To cross the seas and to be crown'd in France:
- The presence of a king engenders love
- Amongst his subjects and his loyal friends,
- As it disanimates his enemies.
- KING HENRY. When Gloucester says the word, King Henry
- goes;
- For friendly counsel cuts off many foes.
- GLOUCESTER. Your ships already are in readiness.
- Sennet. Flourish. Exeunt all but EXETER
- EXETER. Ay, we may march in England or in France,
- Not seeing what is likely to ensue.
- This late dissension grown betwixt the peers
- Burns under feigned ashes of forg'd love
- And will at last break out into a flame;
- As fest'red members rot but by degree
- Till bones and flesh and sinews fall away,
- So will this base and envious discord breed.
- And now I fear that fatal prophecy.
- Which in the time of Henry nam'd the Fifth
- Was in the mouth of every sucking babe:
- That Henry born at Monmouth should win all,
- And Henry born at Windsor should lose all.
- Which is so plain that Exeter doth wish
- His days may finish ere that hapless time. Exit
-
-
-
-
- SCENE 2.
-
- France. Before Rouen
-
- Enter LA PUCELLE disguis'd, with four soldiers dressed
- like countrymen, with sacks upon their backs
-
- PUCELLE. These are the city gates, the gates of Rouen,
- Through which our policy must make a breach.
- Take heed, be wary how you place your words;
- Talk like the vulgar sort of market-men
- That come to gather money for their corn.
- If we have entrance, as I hope we shall,
- And that we find the slothful watch but weak,
- I'll by a sign give notice to our friends,
- That Charles the Dauphin may encounter them.
- FIRST SOLDIER. Our sacks shall be a mean to sack the city,
- And we be lords and rulers over Rouen;
- Therefore we'll knock. [Knocks]
- WATCH. [Within] Qui est la?
- PUCELLE. Paysans, pauvres gens de France
- Poor market-folks that come to sell their corn.
- WATCH. Enter, go in; the market-bell is rung.
- PUCELLE. Now, Rouen, I'll shake thy bulwarks to the
- ground.
-
- [LA PUCELLE, &c., enter the town]
-
- Enter CHARLES, BASTARD, ALENCON, REIGNIER, and forces
-
- CHARLES. Saint Denis bless this happy stratagem!
- And once again we'll sleep secure in Rouen.
- BASTARD. Here ent'red Pucelle and her practisants;
- Now she is there, how will she specify
- Here is the best and safest passage in?
- ALENCON. By thrusting out a torch from yonder tower;
- Which once discern'd shows that her meaning is
- No way to that, for weakness, which she ent'red.
-
- Enter LA PUCELLE, on the top, thrusting out
- a torch burning
-
- PUCELLE. Behold, this is the happy wedding torch
- That joineth Rouen unto her countrymen,
- But burning fatal to the Talbotites. Exit
- BASTARD. See, noble Charles, the beacon of our friend;
- The burning torch in yonder turret stands.
- CHARLES. Now shine it like a comet of revenge,
- A prophet to the fall of all our foes!
- ALENCON. Defer no time, delays have dangerous ends;
- Enter, and cry 'The Dauphin!' presently,
- And then do execution on the watch. Alarum. Exeunt
-
- An alarum. Enter TALBOT in an excursion
-
- TALBOT. France, thou shalt rue this treason with thy tears,
- If Talbot but survive thy treachery.
- PUCELLE, that witch, that damned sorceress,
- Hath wrought this hellish mischief unawares,
- That hardly we escap'd the pride of France. Exit
-
- An alarum; excursions. BEDFORD brought in sick in
- a chair. Enter TALBOT and BURGUNDY without;
- within, LA PUCELLE, CHARLES, BASTARD, ALENCON,
- and REIGNIER, on the walls
-
- PUCELLE. Good morrow, gallants! Want ye corn for bread?
- I think the Duke of Burgundy will fast
- Before he'll buy again at such a rate.
- 'Twas full of darnel-do you like the taste?
- BURGUNDY. Scoff on, vile fiend and shameless courtezan.
- I trust ere long to choke thee with thine own,
- And make thee curse the harvest of that corn.
- CHARLES. Your Grace may starve, perhaps, before that time.
- BEDFORD. O, let no words, but deeds, revenge this treason!
- PUCELLE. What you do, good grey beard? Break a
- lance,
- And run a tilt at death within a chair?
- TALBOT. Foul fiend of France and hag of all despite,
- Encompass'd with thy lustful paramours,
- Becomes it thee to taunt his valiant age
- And twit with cowardice a man half dead?
- Damsel, I'll have a bout with you again,
- Or else let Talbot perish with this shame.
- PUCELLE. Are ye so hot, sir? Yet, Pucelle, hold thy peace;
- If Talbot do but thunder, rain will follow.
- [The English party whisper together in council]
- God speed the parliament! Who shall be the Speaker?
- TALBOT. Dare ye come forth and meet us in the field?
- PUCELLE. Belike your lordship takes us then for fools,
- To try if that our own be ours or no.
- TALBOT. I speak not to that railing Hecate,
- But unto thee, Alencon, and the rest.
- Will ye, like soldiers, come and fight it out?
- ALENCON. Signior, no.
- TALBOT. Signior, hang! Base muleteers of France!
- Like peasant foot-boys do they keep the walls,
- And dare not take up arms like gentlemen.
- PUCELLE. Away, captains! Let's get us from the walls;
- For Talbot means no goodness by his looks.
- God b'uy, my lord; we came but to tell you
- That we are here. Exeunt from the walls
- TALBOT. And there will we be too, ere it be long,
- Or else reproach be Talbot's greatest fame!
- Vow, Burgundy, by honour of thy house,
- Prick'd on by public wrongs sustain'd in France,
- Either to get the town again or die;
- And I, as sure as English Henry lives
- And as his father here was conqueror,
- As sure as in this late betrayed town
- Great Coeur-de-lion's heart was buried
- So sure I swear to get the town or die.
- BURGUNDY. My vows are equal partners with thy vows.
- TALBOT. But ere we go, regard this dying prince,
- The valiant Duke of Bedford. Come, my lord,
- We will bestow you in some better place,
- Fitter for sickness and for crazy age.
- BEDFORD. Lord Talbot, do not so dishonour me;
- Here will I sit before the walls of Rouen,
- And will be partner of your weal or woe.
- BURGUNDY. Courageous Bedford, let us now persuade you.
- BEDFORD. Not to be gone from hence; for once I read
- That stout Pendragon in his litter sick
- Came to the field, and vanquished his foes.
- Methinks I should revive the soldiers' hearts,
- Because I ever found them as myself.
- TALBOT. Undaunted spirit in a dying breast!
- Then be it so. Heavens keep old Bedford safe!
- And now no more ado, brave Burgundy,
- But gather we our forces out of hand
- And set upon our boasting enemy.
- Exeunt against the town all but BEDFORD and attendants
-
- An alarum; excursions. Enter SIR JOHN FASTOLFE,
- and a CAPTAIN
-
- CAPTAIN. Whither away, Sir John Fastolfe, in such haste?
- FASTOLFE. Whither away? To save myself by flight:
- We are like to have the overthrow again.
- CAPTAIN. What! Will you and leave Lord Talbot?
- FASTOLFE. Ay,
- All the Talbots in the world, to save my life. Exit
- CAPTAIN. Cowardly knight! ill fortune follow thee!
- Exit into the town
-
- Retreat; excursions. LA PUCELLE, ALENCON,
- and CHARLES fly
-
- BEDFORD. Now, quiet soul, depart when heaven please,
- For I have seen our enemies' overthrow.
- What is the trust or strength of foolish man?
- They that of late were daring with their scoffs
- Are glad and fain by flight to save themselves.
- [BEDFORD dies and is carried in by two in his chair]
-
- An alarum. Re-enter TALBOT, BURGUNDY, and the rest
-
- TALBOT. Lost and recovered in a day again!
- This is a double honour, Burgundy.
- Yet heavens have glory for this victory!
- BURGUNDY. Warlike and martial Talbot, Burgundy
- Enshrines thee in his heart, and there erects
- Thy noble deeds as valour's monuments.
- TALBOT. Thanks, gentle Duke. But where is Pucelle now?
- I think her old familiar is asleep.
- Now where's the Bastard's braves, and Charles his gleeks?
- What, all amort? Rouen hangs her head for grief
- That such a valiant company are fled.
- Now will we take some order in the town,
- Placing therein some expert officers;
- And then depart to Paris to the King,
- For there young Henry with his nobles lie.
- BURGUNDY. What Lord Talbot pleaseth Burgundy.
- TALBOT. But yet, before we go, let's not forget
- The noble Duke of Bedford, late deceas'd,
- But see his exequies fulfill'd in Rouen.
- A braver soldier never couched lance,
- A gentler heart did never sway in court;
- But kings and mightiest potentates must die,
- For that's the end of human misery. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
- SCENE 3.
-
- The plains near Rouen
-
- Enter CHARLES, the BASTARD, ALENCON, LA PUCELLE,
- and forces
-
- PUCELLE. Dismay not, Princes, at this accident,
- Nor grieve that Rouen is so recovered.
- Care is no cure, but rather corrosive,
- For things that are not to be remedied.
- Let frantic Talbot triumph for a while
- And like a peacock sweep along his tail;
- We'll pull his plumes and take away his train,
- If Dauphin and the rest will be but rul'd.
- CHARLES. We have guided by thee hitherto,
- And of thy cunning had no diffidence;
- One sudden foil shall never breed distrust
- BASTARD. Search out thy wit for secret policies,
- And we will make thee famous through the world.
- ALENCON. We'll set thy statue in some holy place,
- And have thee reverenc'd like a blessed saint.
- Employ thee, then, sweet virgin, for our good.
- PUCELLE. Then thus it must be; this doth Joan devise:
- By fair persuasions, mix'd with sug'red words,
- We will entice the Duke of Burgundy
- To leave the Talbot and to follow us.
- CHARLES. Ay, marry, sweeting, if we could do that,
- France were no place for Henry's warriors;
- Nor should that nation boast it so with us,
- But be extirped from our provinces.
- ALENCON. For ever should they be expuls'd from France,
- And not have tide of an earldom here.
- PUCELLE. Your honours shall perceive how I will work
- To bring this matter to the wished end.
- [Drum sounds afar off]
- Hark! by the sound of drum you may perceive
- Their powers are marching unto Paris-ward.
-
- Here sound an English march. Enter, and pass over
- at a distance, TALBOT and his forces
-
- There goes the Talbot, with his colours spread,
- And all the troops of English after him.
-
- French march. Enter the DUKE OF BURGUNDY and
- his forces
-
- Now in the rearward comes the Duke and his.
- Fortune in favour makes him lag behind.
- Summon a parley; we will talk with him.
- [Trumpets sound a parley]
- CHARLES. A parley with the Duke of Burgundy!
- BURGUNDY. Who craves a parley with the Burgundy?
- PUCELLE. The princely Charles of France, thy countryman.
- BURGUNDY. What say'st thou, Charles? for I am marching
- hence.
- CHARLES. Speak, Pucelle, and enchant him with thy words.
- PUCELLE. Brave Burgundy, undoubted hope of France!
- Stay, let thy humble handmaid speak to thee.
- BURGUNDY. Speak on; but be not over-tedious.
- PUCELLE. Look on thy country, look on fertile France,
- And see the cities and the towns defac'd
- By wasting ruin of the cruel foe;
- As looks the mother on her lowly babe
- When death doth close his tender dying eyes,
- See, see the pining malady of France;
- Behold the wounds, the most unnatural wounds,
- Which thou thyself hast given her woeful breast.
- O, turn thy edged sword another way;
- Strike those that hurt, and hurt not those that help!
- One drop of blood drawn from thy country's bosom
- Should grieve thee more than streams of foreign gore.
- Return thee therefore with a flood of tears,
- And wash away thy country's stained spots.
- BURGUNDY. Either she hath bewitch'd me with her words,
- Or nature makes me suddenly relent.
- PUCELLE. Besides, all French and France exclaims on thee,
- Doubting thy birth and lawful progeny.
- Who join'st thou with but with a lordly nation
- That will not trust thee but for profit's sake?
- When Talbot hath set footing once in France,
- And fashion'd thee that instrument of ill,
- Who then but English Henry will be lord,
- And thou be thrust out like a fugitive?
- Call we to mind-and mark but this for proof:
- Was not the Duke of Orleans thy foe?
- And was he not in England prisoner?
- But when they heard he was thine enemy
- They set him free without his ransom paid,
- In spite of Burgundy and all his friends.
- See then, thou fight'st against thy countrymen,
- And join'st with them will be thy slaughtermen.
- Come, come, return; return, thou wandering lord;
- Charles and the rest will take thee in their arms.
- BURGUNDY. I am vanquished; these haughty words of hers
- Have batt'red me like roaring cannon-shot
- And made me almost yield upon my knees.
- Forgive me, country, and sweet countrymen
- And, lords, accept this hearty kind embrace.
- My forces and my power of men are yours;
- So, farewell, Talbot; I'll no longer trust thee.
- PUCELLE. Done like a Frenchman- [Aside] turn and turn
- again.
- CHARLES. Welcome, brave Duke! Thy friendship makes us
- fresh.
- BASTARD. And doth beget new courage in our breasts.
- ALENCON. Pucelle hath bravely play'd her part in this,
- And doth deserve a coronet of gold.
- CHARLES. Now let us on, my lords, and join our powers,
- And seek how we may prejudice the foe. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
- SCENE 4.
-
- Paris. The palace
-
- Enter the KING, GLOUCESTER, WINCHESTER, YORK,
- SUFFOLK, SOMERSET, WARWICK, EXETER,
- VERNON, BASSET, and others. To them, with
- his soldiers, TALBOT
-
- TALBOT. My gracious Prince, and honourable peers,
- Hearing of your arrival in this realm,
- I have awhile given truce unto my wars
- To do my duty to my sovereign;
- In sign whereof, this arm that hath reclaim'd
- To your obedience fifty fortresses,
- Twelve cities, and seven walled towns of strength,
- Beside five hundred prisoners of esteem,
- Lets fall his sword before your Highness' feet,
- And with submissive loyalty of heart
- Ascribes the glory of his conquest got
- First to my God and next unto your Grace. [Kneels]
- KING HENRY. Is this the Lord Talbot, uncle Gloucester,
- That hath so long been resident in France?
- GLOUCESTER. Yes, if it please your Majesty, my liege.
- KING HENRY. Welcome, brave captain and victorious lord!
- When I was young, as yet I am not old,
- I do remember how my father said
- A stouter champion never handled sword.
- Long since we were resolved of your truth,
- Your faithful service, and your toil in war;
- Yet never have you tasted our reward,
- Or been reguerdon'd with so much as thanks,
- Because till now we never saw your face.
- Therefore stand up; and for these good deserts
- We here create you Earl of Shrewsbury;
- And in our coronation take your place.
- Sennet. Flourish. Exeunt all but VERNON and BASSET
- VERNON. Now, sir, to you, that were so hot at sea,
- Disgracing of these colours that I wear
- In honour of my noble Lord of York
- Dar'st thou maintain the former words thou spak'st?
- BASSET. Yes, sir; as well as you dare patronage
- The envious barking of your saucy tongue
- Against my lord the Duke of Somerset.
- VERNON. Sirrah, thy lord I honour as he is.
- BASSET. Why, what is he? As good a man as York!
- VERNON. Hark ye: not so. In witness, take ye that.
- [Strikes him]
- BASSET. Villain, thou knowest the law of arms is such
- That whoso draws a sword 'tis present death,
- Or else this blow should broach thy dearest blood.
- But I'll unto his Majesty and crave
- I may have liberty to venge this wrong;
- When thou shalt see I'll meet thee to thy cost.
- VERNON. Well, miscreant, I'll be there as soon as you;
- And, after, meet you sooner than you would. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT IV. SCENE 1.
-
-Park. The palace
-
-Enter the KING, GLOUCESTER, WINCHESTER, YORK, SUFFOLK, SOMERSET, WARWICK,
-TALBOT, EXETER, the GOVERNOR OF PARIS, and others
-
- GLOUCESTER. Lord Bishop, set the crown upon his head.
- WINCHESTER. God save King Henry, of that name the Sixth!
- GLOUCESTER. Now, Governor of Paris, take your oath
- [GOVERNOR kneels]
- That you elect no other king but him,
- Esteem none friends but such as are his friends,
- And none your foes but such as shall pretend
- Malicious practices against his state.
- This shall ye do, so help you righteous God!
- Exeunt GOVERNOR and his train
-
- Enter SIR JOHN FASTOLFE
-
- FASTOLFE. My gracious sovereign, as I rode from Calais,
- To haste unto your coronation,
- A letter was deliver'd to my hands,
- Writ to your Grace from th' Duke of Burgundy.
- TALBOT. Shame to the Duke of Burgundy and thee!
- I vow'd, base knight, when I did meet thee next
- To tear the Garter from thy craven's leg, [Plucking it off]
- Which I have done, because unworthily
- Thou wast installed in that high degree.
- Pardon me, princely Henry, and the rest:
- This dastard, at the battle of Patay,
- When but in all I was six thousand strong,
- And that the French were almost ten to one,
- Before we met or that a stroke was given,
- Like to a trusty squire did run away;
- In which assault we lost twelve hundred men;
- Myself and divers gentlemen beside
- Were there surpris'd and taken prisoners.
- Then judge, great lords, if I have done amiss,
- Or whether that such cowards ought to wear
- This ornament of knighthood-yea or no.
- GLOUCESTER. To say the truth, this fact was infamous
- And ill beseeming any common man,
- Much more a knight, a captain, and a leader.
- TALBOT. When first this order was ordain'd, my lords,
- Knights of the Garter were of noble birth,
- Valiant and virtuous, full of haughty courage,
- Such as were grown to credit by the wars;
- Not fearing death nor shrinking for distress,
- But always resolute in most extremes.
- He then that is not furnish'd in this sort
- Doth but usurp the sacred name of knight,
- Profaning this most honourable order,
- And should, if I were worthy to be judge,
- Be quite degraded, like a hedge-born swain
- That doth presume to boast of gentle blood.
- KING HENRY. Stain to thy countrymen, thou hear'st thy
- doom.
- Be packing, therefore, thou that wast a knight;
- Henceforth we banish thee on pain of death.
- Exit FASTOLFE
- And now, my Lord Protector, view the letter
- Sent from our uncle Duke of Burgundy.
- GLOUCESTER. [Viewing the superscription] What means his
- Grace, that he hath chang'd his style?
- No more but plain and bluntly 'To the King!'
- Hath he forgot he is his sovereign?
- Or doth this churlish superscription
- Pretend some alteration in good-will?
- What's here? [Reads] 'I have, upon especial cause,
- Mov'd with compassion of my country's wreck,
- Together with the pitiful complaints
- Of such as your oppression feeds upon,
- Forsaken your pernicious faction,
- And join'd with Charles, the rightful King of France.'
- O monstrous treachery! Can this be so
- That in alliance, amity, and oaths,
- There should be found such false dissembling guile?
- KING HENRY. What! Doth my uncle Burgundy revolt?
- GLOUCESTER. He doth, my lord, and is become your foe.
- KING HENRY. Is that the worst this letter doth contain?
- GLOUCESTER. It is the worst, and all, my lord, he writes.
- KING HENRY. Why then Lord Talbot there shall talk with
- him
- And give him chastisement for this abuse.
- How say you, my lord, are you not content?
- TALBOT. Content, my liege! Yes; but that I am prevented,
- I should have begg'd I might have been employ'd.
- KING HENRY. Then gather strength and march unto him
- straight;
- Let him perceive how ill we brook his treason.
- And what offence it is to flout his friends.
- TALBOT. I go, my lord, in heart desiring still
- You may behold confusion of your foes. Exit
-
- Enter VERNON and BASSET
-
- VERNON. Grant me the combat, gracious sovereign.
- BASSET. And me, my lord, grant me the combat too.
- YORK. This is my servant: hear him, noble Prince.
- SOMERSET. And this is mine: sweet Henry, favour him.
- KING HENRY. Be patient, lords, and give them leave to speak.
- Say, gentlemen, what makes you thus exclaim,
- And wherefore crave you combat, or with whom?
- VERNON. With him, my lord; for he hath done me wrong.
- BASSET. And I with him; for he hath done me wrong.
- KING HENRY. What is that wrong whereof you both
- complain? First let me know, and then I'll answer you.
- BASSET. Crossing the sea from England into France,
- This fellow here, with envious carping tongue,
- Upbraided me about the rose I wear,
- Saying the sanguine colour of the leaves
- Did represent my master's blushing cheeks
- When stubbornly he did repugn the truth
- About a certain question in the law
- Argu'd betwixt the Duke of York and him;
- With other vile and ignominious terms
- In confutation of which rude reproach
- And in defence of my lord's worthiness,
- I crave the benefit of law of arms.
- VERNON. And that is my petition, noble lord;
- For though he seem with forged quaint conceit
- To set a gloss upon his bold intent,
- Yet know, my lord, I was provok'd by him,
- And he first took exceptions at this badge,
- Pronouncing that the paleness of this flower
- Bewray'd the faintness of my master's heart.
- YORK. Will not this malice, Somerset, be left?
- SOMERSET. Your private grudge, my Lord of York, will out,
- Though ne'er so cunningly you smother it.
- KING HENRY. Good Lord, what madness rules in brainsick
- men, When for so slight and frivolous a cause
- Such factious emulations shall arise!
- Good cousins both, of York and Somerset,
- Quiet yourselves, I pray, and be at peace.
- YORK. Let this dissension first be tried by fight,
- And then your Highness shall command a peace.
- SOMERSET. The quarrel toucheth none but us alone;
- Betwixt ourselves let us decide it then.
- YORK. There is my pledge; accept it, Somerset.
- VERNON. Nay, let it rest where it began at first.
- BASSET. Confirm it so, mine honourable lord.
- GLOUCESTER. Confirm it so? Confounded be your strife;
- And perish ye, with your audacious prate!
- Presumptuous vassals, are you not asham'd
- With this immodest clamorous outrage
- To trouble and disturb the King and us?
- And you, my lords- methinks you do not well
- To bear with their perverse objections,
- Much less to take occasion from their mouths
- To raise a mutiny betwixt yourselves.
- Let me persuade you take a better course.
- EXETER. It grieves his Highness. Good my lords, be friends.
- KING HENRY. Come hither, you that would be combatants:
- Henceforth I charge you, as you love our favour,
- Quite to forget this quarrel and the cause.
- And you, my lords, remember where we are:
- In France, amongst a fickle wavering nation;
- If they perceive dissension in our looks
- And that within ourselves we disagree,
- How will their grudging stomachs be provok'd
- To wilful disobedience, and rebel!
- Beside, what infamy will there arise
- When foreign princes shall be certified
- That for a toy, a thing of no regard,
- King Henry's peers and chief nobility
- Destroy'd themselves and lost the realm of France!
- O, think upon the conquest of my father,
- My tender years; and let us not forgo
- That for a trifle that was bought with blood!
- Let me be umpire in this doubtful strife.
- I see no reason, if I wear this rose,
- [Putting on a red rose]
- That any one should therefore be suspicious
- I more incline to Somerset than York:
- Both are my kinsmen, and I love them both.
- As well they may upbraid me with my crown,
- Because, forsooth, the King of Scots is crown'd.
- But your discretions better can persuade
- Than I am able to instruct or teach;
- And, therefore, as we hither came in peace,
- So let us still continue peace and love.
- Cousin of York, we institute your Grace
- To be our Regent in these parts of France.
- And, good my Lord of Somerset, unite
- Your troops of horsemen with his bands of foot;
- And like true subjects, sons of your progenitors,
- Go cheerfully together and digest
- Your angry choler on your enemies.
- Ourself, my Lord Protector, and the rest,
- After some respite will return to Calais;
- From thence to England, where I hope ere long
- To be presented by your victories
- With Charles, Alencon, and that traitorous rout.
- Flourish. Exeunt all but YORK, WARWICK,
- EXETER, VERNON
- WARWICK. My Lord of York, I promise you, the King
- Prettily, methought, did play the orator.
- YORK. And so he did; but yet I like it not,
- In that he wears the badge of Somerset.
- WARWICK. Tush, that was but his fancy; blame him not;
- I dare presume, sweet prince, he thought no harm.
- YORK. An if I wist he did-but let it rest;
- Other affairs must now be managed.
- Exeunt all but EXETER
- EXETER. Well didst thou, Richard, to suppress thy voice;
- For had the passions of thy heart burst out,
- I fear we should have seen decipher'd there
- More rancorous spite, more furious raging broils,
- Than yet can be imagin'd or suppos'd.
- But howsoe'er, no simple man that sees
- This jarring discord of nobility,
- This shouldering of each other in the court,
- This factious bandying of their favourites,
- But that it doth presage some ill event.
- 'Tis much when sceptres are in children's hands;
- But more when envy breeds unkind division:
- There comes the ruin, there begins confusion. Exit
-
-
-
-
- SCENE 2.
-
- France. Before Bordeaux
-
- Enter TALBOT, with trump and drum
-
- TALBOT. Go to the gates of Bordeaux, trumpeter;
- Summon their general unto the wall.
-
- Trumpet sounds a parley. Enter, aloft, the
- GENERAL OF THE FRENCH, and others
-
- English John Talbot, Captains, calls you forth,
- Servant in arms to Harry King of England;
- And thus he would open your city gates,
- Be humble to us, call my sovereignvours
- And do him homage as obedient subjects,
- And I'll withdraw me and my bloody power;
- But if you frown upon this proffer'd peace,
- You tempt the fury of my three attendants,
- Lean famine, quartering steel, and climbing fire;
- Who in a moment even with the earth
- Shall lay your stately and air braving towers,
- If you forsake the offer of their love.
- GENERAL OF THE FRENCH. Thou ominous and fearful owl of
- death,
- Our nation's terror and their bloody scourge!
- The period of thy tyranny approacheth.
- On us thou canst not enter but by death;
- For, I protest, we are well fortified,
- And strong enough to issue out and fight.
- If thou retire, the Dauphin, well appointed,
- Stands with the snares of war to tangle thee.
- On either hand thee there are squadrons pitch'd
- To wall thee from the liberty of flight,
- And no way canst thou turn thee for redress
- But death doth front thee with apparent spoil
- And pale destruction meets thee in the face.
- Ten thousand French have ta'en the sacrament
- To rive their dangerous artillery
- Upon no Christian soul but English Talbot.
- Lo, there thou stand'st, a breathing valiant man,
- Of an invincible unconquer'd spirit!
- This is the latest glory of thy praise
- That I, thy enemy, due thee withal;
- For ere the glass that now begins to run
- Finish the process of his sandy hour,
- These eyes that see thee now well coloured
- Shall see thee withered, bloody, pale, and dead.
- [Drum afar off]
- Hark! hark! The Dauphin's drum, a warning bell,
- Sings heavy music to thy timorous soul;
- And mine shall ring thy dire departure out. Exit
- TALBOT. He fables not; I hear the enemy.
- Out, some light horsemen, and peruse their wings.
- O, negligent and heedless discipline!
- How are we park'd and bounded in a pale
- A little herd of England's timorous deer,
- Maz'd with a yelping kennel of French curs!
- If we be English deer, be then in blood;
- Not rascal-like to fall down with a pinch,
- But rather, moody-mad and desperate stags,
- Turn on the bloody hounds with heads of steel
- And make the cowards stand aloof at bay.
- Sell every man his life as dear as mine,
- And they shall find dear deer of us, my friends.
- God and Saint George, Talbot and England's right,
- Prosper our colours in this dangerous fight! Exeunt
-
-
-
-
- SCENE 3.
-
- Plains in Gascony
-
- Enter YORK, with trumpet and many soldiers. A
- MESSENGER meets him
-
- YORK. Are not the speedy scouts return'd again
- That dogg'd the mighty army of the Dauphin?
- MESSENGER. They are return'd, my lord, and give it out
- That he is march'd to Bordeaux with his power
- To fight with Talbot; as he march'd along,
- By your espials were discovered
- Two mightier troops than that the Dauphin led,
- Which join'd with him and made their march for
- Bordeaux.
- YORK. A plague upon that villain Somerset
- That thus delays my promised supply
- Of horsemen that were levied for this siege!
- Renowned Talbot doth expect my aid,
- And I am louted by a traitor villain
- And cannot help the noble chevalier.
- God comfort him in this necessity!
- If he miscarry, farewell wars in France.
-
- Enter SIR WILLIAM LUCY
-
- LUCY. Thou princely leader of our English strength,
- Never so needful on the earth of France,
- Spur to the rescue of the noble Talbot,
- Who now is girdled with a waist of iron
- And hemm'd about with grim destruction.
- To Bordeaux, warlike Duke! to Bordeaux, York!
- Else, farewell Talbot, France, and England's honour.
- YORK. O God, that Somerset, who in proud heart
- Doth stop my cornets, were in Talbot's place!
- So should we save a valiant gentleman
- By forfeiting a traitor and a coward.
- Mad ire and wrathful fury makes me weep
- That thus we die while remiss traitors sleep.
- LUCY. O, send some succour to the distress'd lord!
- YORK. He dies; we lose; I break my warlike word.
- We mourn: France smiles. We lose: they daily get-
- All long of this vile traitor Somerset.
- LUCY. Then God take mercy on brave Talbot's soul,
- And on his son, young John, who two hours since
- I met in travel toward his warlike father.
- This seven years did not Talbot see his son;
- And now they meet where both their lives are done.
- YORK. Alas, what joy shall noble Talbot have
- To bid his young son welcome to his grave?
- Away! vexation almost stops my breath,
- That sund'red friends greet in the hour of death.
- Lucy, farewell; no more my fortune can
- But curse the cause I cannot aid the man.
- Maine, Blois, Poictiers, and Tours, are won away
- Long all of Somerset and his delay. Exit with forces
- LUCY. Thus, while the vulture of sedition
- Feeds in the bosom of such great commanders,
- Sleeping neglection doth betray to loss
- The conquest of our scarce cold conqueror,
- That ever-living man of memory,
- Henry the Fifth. Whiles they each other cross,
- Lives, honours, lands, and all, hurry to loss. Exit
-
-
-
-
- SCENE 4.
-
- Other plains of Gascony
-
- Enter SOMERSET, With his forces; an OFFICER of
- TALBOT'S with him
-
- SOMERSET. It is too late; I cannot send them now.
- This expedition was by York and Talbot
- Too rashly plotted; all our general force
- Might with a sally of the very town
- Be buckled with. The over daring Talbot
- Hath sullied all his gloss of former honour
- By this unheedful, desperate, wild adventure.
- York set him on to fight and die in shame.
- That, Talbot dead, great York might bear the name.
- OFFICER. Here is Sir William Lucy, who with me
- Set from our o'er-match'd forces forth for aid.
-
- Enter SIR WILLIAM LUCY
-
- SOMERSET. How now, Sir William! Whither were you sent?
- LUCY. Whither, my lord! From bought and sold Lord
- Talbot,
- Who, ring'd about with bold adversity,
- Cries out for noble York and Somerset
- To beat assailing death from his weak legions;
- And whiles the honourable captain there
- Drops bloody sweat from his war-wearied limbs
- And, in advantage ling'ring, looks for rescue,
- You, his false hopes, the trust of England's honour,
- Keep off aloof with worthless emulation.
- Let not your private discord keep away
- The levied succours that should lend him aid,
- While he, renowned noble gentleman,
- Yield up his life unto a world of odds.
- Orleans the Bastard, Charles, Burgundy,
- Alencon, Reignier, compass him about,
- And Talbot perisheth by your default.
- SOMERSET. York set him on; York should have sent him aid.
- LUCY. And York as fast upon your Grace exclaims,
- Swearing that you withhold his levied host,
- Collected for this expedition.
- SOMERSET. York lies; he might have sent and had the horse.
- I owe him little duty and less love,
- And take foul scorn to fawn on him by sending.
- LUCY. The fraud of England, not the force of France,
- Hath now entrapp'd the noble minded Talbot.
- Never to England shall he bear his life,
- But dies betray'd to fortune by your strife.
- SOMERSET. Come, go; I will dispatch the horsemen straight;
- Within six hours they will be at his aid.
- LUCY. Too late comes rescue; he is ta'en or slain,
- For fly he could not if he would have fled;
- And fly would Talbot never, though he might.
- SOMERSET. If he be dead, brave Talbot, then, adieu!
- LUCY. His fame lives in the world, his shame in you. Exeunt
-
-
- SCENE 5.
-
- The English camp near Bordeaux
-
- Enter TALBOT and JOHN his son
-
- TALBOT. O young John Talbot! I did send for thee
- To tutor thee in stratagems of war,
- That Talbot's name might be in thee reviv'd
- When sapless age and weak unable limbs
- Should bring thy father to his drooping chair.
- But, O malignant and ill-boding stars!
- Now thou art come unto a feast of death,
- A terrible and unavoided danger;
- Therefore, dear boy, mount on my swiftest horse,
- And I'll direct thee how thou shalt escape
- By sudden flight. Come, dally not, be gone.
- JOHN. Is my name Talbot, and am I your son?
- And shall I fly? O, if you love my mother,
- Dishonour not her honourable name,
- To make a bastard and a slave of me!
- The world will say he is not Talbot's blood
- That basely fled when noble Talbot stood.
- TALBOT. Fly to revenge my death, if I be slain.
- JOHN. He that flies so will ne'er return again.
- TALBOT. If we both stay, we both are sure to die.
- JOHN. Then let me stay; and, father, do you fly.
- Your loss is great, so your regard should be;
- My worth unknown, no loss is known in me;
- Upon my death the French can little boast;
- In yours they will, in you all hopes are lost.
- Flight cannot stain the honour you have won;
- But mine it will, that no exploit have done;
- You fled for vantage, every one will swear;
- But if I bow, they'll say it was for fear.
- There is no hope that ever I will stay
- If the first hour I shrink and run away.
- Here, on my knee, I beg mortality,
- Rather than life preserv'd with infamy.
- TALBOT. Shall all thy mother's hopes lie in one tomb?
- JOHN. Ay, rather than I'll shame my mother's womb.
- TALBOT. Upon my blessing I command thee go.
- JOHN. To fight I will, but not to fly the foe.
- TALBOT. Part of thy father may be sav'd in thee.
- JOHN. No part of him but will be shame in me.
- TALBOT. Thou never hadst renown, nor canst not lose it.
- JOHN. Yes, your renowned name; shall flight abuse it?
- TALBOT. Thy father's charge shall clear thee from that stain.
- JOHN. You cannot witness for me, being slain.
- If death be so apparent, then both fly.
- TALBOT. And leave my followers here to fight and die?
- My age was never tainted with such shame.
- JOHN. And shall my youth be guilty of such blame?
- No more can I be severed from your side
- Than can yourself yourself yourself in twain divide.
- Stay, go, do what you will, the like do I;
- For live I will not if my father die.
- TALBOT. Then here I take my leave of thee, fair son,
- Born to eclipse thy life this afternoon.
- Come, side by side together live and die;
- And soul with soul from France to heaven fly. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
- SCENE 6.
-
- A field of battle
-
- Alarum: excursions wherein JOHN TALBOT is hemm'd
- about, and TALBOT rescues him
-
- TALBOT. Saint George and victory! Fight, soldiers, fight.
- The Regent hath with Talbot broke his word
- And left us to the rage of France his sword.
- Where is John Talbot? Pause and take thy breath;
- I gave thee life and rescu'd thee from death.
- JOHN. O, twice my father, twice am I thy son!
- The life thou gav'st me first was lost and done
- Till with thy warlike sword, despite of fate,
- To my determin'd time thou gav'st new date.
- TALBOT. When from the Dauphin's crest thy sword struck
- fire,
- It warm'd thy father's heart with proud desire
- Of bold-fac'd victory. Then leaden age,
- Quicken'd with youthful spleen and warlike rage,
- Beat down Alencon, Orleans, Burgundy,
- And from the pride of Gallia rescued thee.
- The ireful bastard Orleans, that drew blood
- From thee, my boy, and had the maidenhood
- Of thy first fight, I soon encountered
- And, interchanging blows, I quickly shed
- Some of his bastard blood; and in disgrace
- Bespoke him thus: 'Contaminated, base,
- And misbegotten blood I spill of thine,
- Mean and right poor, for that pure blood of mine
- Which thou didst force from Talbot, my brave boy.'
- Here purposing the Bastard to destroy,
- Came in strong rescue. Speak, thy father's care;
- Art thou not weary, John? How dost thou fare?
- Wilt thou yet leave the battle, boy, and fly,
- Now thou art seal'd the son of chivalry?
- Fly, to revenge my death when I am dead:
- The help of one stands me in little stead.
- O, too much folly is it, well I wot,
- To hazard all our lives in one small boat!
- If I to-day die not with Frenchmen's rage,
- To-morrow I shall die with mickle age.
- By me they nothing gain an if I stay:
- 'Tis but the short'ning of my life one day.
- In thee thy mother dies, our household's name,
- My death's revenge, thy youth, and England's fame.
- All these and more we hazard by thy stay;
- All these are sav'd if thou wilt fly away.
- JOHN. The sword of Orleans hath not made me smart;
- These words of yours draw life-blood from my heart.
- On that advantage, bought with such a shame,
- To save a paltry life and slay bright fame,
- Before young Talbot from old Talbot fly,
- The coward horse that bears me fall and die!
- And like me to the peasant boys of France,
- To be shame's scorn and subject of mischance!
- Surely, by all the glory you have won,
- An if I fly, I am not Talbot's son;
- Then talk no more of flight, it is no boot;
- If son to Talbot, die at Talbot's foot.
- TALBOT. Then follow thou thy desp'rate sire of Crete,
- Thou Icarus; thy life to me is sweet.
- If thou wilt fight, fight by thy father's side;
- And, commendable prov'd, let's die in pride. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
- SCENE 7.
-
- Another part of the field
-
- Alarum; excursions. Enter old TALBOT led by a SERVANT
-
- TALBOT. Where is my other life? Mine own is gone.
- O, where's young Talbot? Where is valiant John?
- Triumphant death, smear'd with captivity,
- Young Talbot's valour makes me smile at thee.
- When he perceiv'd me shrink and on my knee,
- His bloody sword he brandish'd over me,
- And like a hungry lion did commence
- Rough deeds of rage and stern impatience;
- But when my angry guardant stood alone,
- Tend'ring my ruin and assail'd of none,
- Dizzy-ey'd fury and great rage of heart
- Suddenly made him from my side to start
- Into the clust'ring battle of the French;
- And in that sea of blood my boy did drench
- His overmounting spirit; and there died,
- My Icarus, my blossom, in his pride.
-
- Enter soldiers, bearing the body of JOHN TALBOT
-
- SERVANT. O my dear lord, lo where your son is borne!
- TALBOT. Thou antic Death, which laugh'st us here to scorn,
- Anon, from thy insulting tyranny,
- Coupled in bonds of perpetuity,
- Two Talbots, winged through the lither sky,
- In thy despite shall scape mortality.
- O thou whose wounds become hard-favoured Death,
- Speak to thy father ere thou yield thy breath!
- Brave Death by speaking, whether he will or no;
- Imagine him a Frenchman and thy foe.
- Poor boy! he smiles, methinks, as who should say,
- Had Death been French, then Death had died to-day.
- Come, come, and lay him in his father's arms.
- My spirit can no longer bear these harms.
- Soldiers, adieu! I have what I would have,
- Now my old arms are young John Talbot's grave. [Dies]
-
- Enter CHARLES, ALENCON, BURGUNDY, BASTARD,
- LA PUCELLE, and forces
-
- CHARLES. Had York and Somerset brought rescue in,
- We should have found a bloody day of this.
- BASTARD. How the young whelp of Talbot's, raging wood,
- Did flesh his puny sword in Frenchmen's blood!
- PUCELLE. Once I encount'red him, and thus I said:
- 'Thou maiden youth, be vanquish'd by a maid.'
- But with a proud majestical high scorn
- He answer'd thus: 'Young Talbot was not born
- To be the pillage of a giglot wench.'
- So, rushing in the bowels of the French,
- He left me proudly, as unworthy fight.
- BURGUNDY. Doubtless he would have made a noble knight.
- See where he lies inhearsed in the arms
- Of the most bloody nurser of his harms!
- BASTARD. Hew them to pieces, hack their bones asunder,
- Whose life was England's glory, Gallia's wonder.
- CHARLES. O, no; forbear! For that which we have fled
- During the life, let us not wrong it dead.
-
- Enter SIR WILLIAM Lucy, attended; a FRENCH
- HERALD preceding
-
- LUCY. Herald, conduct me to the Dauphin's tent,
- To know who hath obtain'd the glory of the day.
- CHARLES. On what submissive message art thou sent?
- LUCY. Submission, Dauphin! 'Tis a mere French word:
- We English warriors wot not what it means.
- I come to know what prisoners thou hast ta'en,
- And to survey the bodies of the dead.
- CHARLES. For prisoners ask'st thou? Hell our prison is.
- But tell me whom thou seek'st.
- LUCY. But where's the great Alcides of the field,
- Valiant Lord Talbot, Earl of Shrewsbury,
- Created for his rare success in arms
- Great Earl of Washford, Waterford, and Valence,
- Lord Talbot of Goodrig and Urchinfield,
- Lord Strange of Blackmere, Lord Verdun of Alton,
- Lord Cromwell of Wingfield, Lord Furnival of Sheffield,
- The thrice victorious Lord of Falconbridge,
- Knight of the noble order of Saint George,
- Worthy Saint Michael, and the Golden Fleece,
- Great Marshal to Henry the Sixth
- Of all his wars within the realm of France?
- PUCELLE. Here's a silly-stately style indeed!
- The Turk, that two and fifty kingdoms hath,
- Writes not so tedious a style as this.
- Him that thou magnifi'st with all these tides,
- Stinking and fly-blown lies here at our feet.
- LUCY. Is Talbot slain-the Frenchmen's only scourge,
- Your kingdom's terror and black Nemesis?
- O, were mine eye-bans into bullets turn'd,
- That I in rage might shoot them at your faces!
- O that I could but can these dead to life!
- It were enough to fright the realm of France.
- Were but his picture left amongst you here,
- It would amaze the proudest of you all.
- Give me their bodies, that I may bear them hence
- And give them burial as beseems their worth.
- PUCELLE. I think this upstart is old Talbot's ghost,
- He speaks with such a proud commanding spirit.
- For God's sake, let him have them; to keep them here,
- They would but stink, and putrefy the air.
- CHARLES. Go, take their bodies hence.
- LUCY. I'll bear them hence; but from their ashes shall be
- rear'd
- A phoenix that shall make all France afeard.
- CHARLES. So we be rid of them, do with them what thou
- wilt.
- And now to Paris in this conquering vein!
- All will be ours, now bloody Talbot's slain. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT V. SCENE 1.
-
-London. The palace
-
-Sennet. Enter the KING, GLOUCESTER, and EXETER
-
- KING HENRY. Have you perus'd the letters from the Pope,
- The Emperor, and the Earl of Armagnac?
- GLOUCESTER. I have, my lord; and their intent is this:
- They humbly sue unto your Excellence
- To have a godly peace concluded of
- Between the realms of England and of France.
- KING HENRY. How doth your Grace affect their motion?
- GLOUCESTER. Well, my good lord, and as the only means
- To stop effusion of our Christian blood
- And stablish quietness on every side.
- KING HENRY. Ay, marry, uncle; for I always thought
- It was both impious and unnatural
- That such immanity and bloody strife
- Should reign among professors of one faith.
- GLOUCESTER. Beside, my lord, the sooner to effect
- And surer bind this knot of amity,
- The Earl of Armagnac, near knit to Charles,
- A man of great authority in France,
- Proffers his only daughter to your Grace
- In marriage, with a large and sumptuous dowry.
- KING HENRY. Marriage, uncle! Alas, my years are young
- And fitter is my study and my books
- Than wanton dalliance with a paramour.
- Yet call th' ambassadors, and, as you please,
- So let them have their answers every one.
- I shall be well content with any choice
- Tends to God's glory and my country's weal.
-
- Enter in Cardinal's habit
- BEAUFORT, the PAPAL LEGATE, and two AMBASSADORS
-
- EXETER. What! Is my Lord of Winchester install'd
- And call'd unto a cardinal's degree?
- Then I perceive that will be verified
- Henry the Fifth did sometime prophesy:
- 'If once he come to be a cardinal,
- He'll make his cap co-equal with the crown.'
- KING HENRY. My Lords Ambassadors, your several suits
- Have been consider'd and debated on.
- Your purpose is both good and reasonable,
- And therefore are we certainly resolv'd
- To draw conditions of a friendly peace,
- Which by my Lord of Winchester we mean
- Shall be transported presently to France.
- GLOUCESTER. And for the proffer of my lord your master,
- I have inform'd his Highness so at large,
- As, liking of the lady's virtuous gifts,
- Her beauty, and the value of her dower,
- He doth intend she shall be England's Queen.
- KING HENRY. [To AMBASSADOR] In argument and proof of
- which contract,
- Bear her this jewel, pledge of my affection.
- And so, my Lord Protector, see them guarded
- And safely brought to Dover; where inshipp'd,
- Commit them to the fortune of the sea.
-
- Exeunt all but WINCHESTER and the LEGATE
- WINCHESTER. Stay, my Lord Legate; you shall first receive
- The sum of money which I promised
- Should be delivered to his Holiness
- For clothing me in these grave ornaments.
- LEGATE. I will attend upon your lordship's leisure.
- WINCHESTER. [Aside] Now Winchester will not submit, I
- trow,
- Or be inferior to the proudest peer.
- Humphrey of Gloucester, thou shalt well perceive
- That neither in birth or for authority
- The Bishop will be overborne by thee.
- I'll either make thee stoop and bend thy knee,
- Or sack this country with a mutiny. Exeunt
-
-
- SCENE 2.
-
- France. Plains in Anjou
-
- Enter CHARLES, BURGUNDY, ALENCON, BASTARD,
- REIGNIER, LA PUCELLE, and forces
-
- CHARLES. These news, my lords, may cheer our drooping
- spirits:
- 'Tis said the stout Parisians do revolt
- And turn again unto the warlike French.
- ALENCON. Then march to Paris, royal Charles of France,
- And keep not back your powers in dalliance.
- PUCELLE. Peace be amongst them, if they turn to us;
- Else ruin combat with their palaces!
-
- Enter a SCOUT
-
- SCOUT. Success unto our valiant general,
- And happiness to his accomplices!
- CHARLES. What tidings send our scouts? I prithee speak.
- SCOUT. The English army, that divided was
- Into two parties, is now conjoin'd in one,
- And means to give you battle presently.
- CHARLES. Somewhat too sudden, sirs, the warning is;
- But we will presently provide for them.
- BURGUNDY. I trust the ghost of Talbot is not there.
- Now he is gone, my lord, you need not fear.
- PUCELLE. Of all base passions fear is most accurs'd.
- Command the conquest, Charles, it shall be thine,
- Let Henry fret and all the world repine.
- CHARLES. Then on, my lords; and France be fortunate!
- Exeunt
-
-
-
-
- SCENE 3.
-
- Before Angiers
-
- Alarum, excursions. Enter LA PUCELLE
-
- PUCELLE. The Regent conquers and the Frenchmen fly.
- Now help, ye charming spells and periapts;
- And ye choice spirits that admonish me
- And give me signs of future accidents; [Thunder]
- You speedy helpers that are substitutes
- Under the lordly monarch of the north,
- Appear and aid me in this enterprise!
-
- Enter FIENDS
-
- This speedy and quick appearance argues proof
- Of your accustom'd diligence to me.
- Now, ye familiar spirits that are cull'd
- Out of the powerful regions under earth,
- Help me this once, that France may get the field.
- [They walk and speak not]
- O, hold me not with silence over-long!
- Where I was wont to feed you with my blood,
- I'll lop a member off and give it you
- In earnest of a further benefit,
- So you do condescend to help me now.
- [They hang their heads]
- No hope to have redress? My body shall
- Pay recompense, if you will grant my suit.
- [They shake their heads]
- Cannot my body nor blood sacrifice
- Entreat you to your wonted furtherance?
- Then take my soul-my body, soul, and all,
- Before that England give the French the foil.
- [They depart]
- See! they forsake me. Now the time is come
- That France must vail her lofty-plumed crest
- And let her head fall into England's lap.
- My ancient incantations are too weak,
- And hell too strong for me to buckle with.
- Now, France, thy glory droopeth to the dust. Exit
-
- Excursions. Enter French and English, fighting.
- LA PUCELLE and YORK fight hand to hand; LA PUCELLE
- is taken. The French fly
-
- YORK. Damsel of France, I think I have you fast.
- Unchain your spirits now with spelling charms,
- And try if they can gain your liberty.
- A goodly prize, fit for the devil's grace!
- See how the ugly witch doth bend her brows
- As if, with Circe, she would change my shape!
- PUCELLE. Chang'd to a worser shape thou canst not be.
- YORK. O, Charles the Dauphin is a proper man:
- No shape but his can please your dainty eye.
- PUCELLE. A plaguing mischief fight on Charles and thee!
- And may ye both be suddenly surpris'd
- By bloody hands, in sleeping on your beds!
- YORK. Fell banning hag; enchantress, hold thy tongue.
- PUCELLE. I prithee give me leave to curse awhile.
- YORK. Curse, miscreant, when thou comest to the stake.
- Exeunt
-
- Alarum. Enter SUFFOLK, with MARGARET in his hand
-
- SUFFOLK. Be what thou wilt, thou art my prisoner.
- [Gazes on her]
- O fairest beauty, do not fear nor fly!
- For I will touch thee but with reverent hands;
- I kiss these fingers for eternal peace,
- And lay them gently on thy tender side.
- Who art thou? Say, that I may honour thee.
- MARGARET. Margaret my name, and daughter to a king,
- The King of Naples-whosoe'er thou art.
- SUFFOLK. An earl I am, and Suffolk am I call'd.
- Be not offended, nature's miracle,
- Thou art allotted to be ta'en by me.
- So doth the swan her downy cygnets save,
- Keeping them prisoner underneath her wings.
- Yet, if this servile usage once offend,
- Go and be free again as Suffolk's friend. [She is going]
- O, stay! [Aside] I have no power to let her pass;
- My hand would free her, but my heart says no.
- As plays the sun upon the glassy streams,
- Twinkling another counterfeited beam,
- So seems this gorgeous beauty to mine eyes.
- Fain would I woo her, yet I dare not speak.
- I'll call for pen and ink, and write my mind.
- Fie, de la Pole! disable not thyself;
- Hast not a tongue? Is she not here thy prisoner?
- Wilt thou be daunted at a woman's sight?
- Ay, beauty's princely majesty is such
- Confounds the tongue and makes the senses rough.
- MARGARET. Say, Earl of Suffolk, if thy name be so,
- What ransom must I pay before I pass?
- For I perceive I am thy prisoner.
- SUFFOLK. [Aside] How canst thou tell she will deny thy
- suit,
- Before thou make a trial of her love?
- MARGARET. Why speak'st thou not? What ransom must I
- pay?
- SUFFOLK. [Aside] She's beautiful, and therefore to be woo'd;
- She is a woman, therefore to be won.
- MARGARET. Wilt thou accept of ransom-yea or no?
- SUFFOLK. [Aside] Fond man, remember that thou hast a
- wife;
- Then how can Margaret be thy paramour?
- MARGARET. I were best leave him, for he will not hear.
- SUFFOLK. [Aside] There all is marr'd; there lies a cooling
- card.
- MARGARET. He talks at random; sure, the man is mad.
- SUFFOLK. [Aside] And yet a dispensation may be had.
- MARGARET. And yet I would that you would answer me.
- SUFFOLK. [Aside] I'll win this Lady Margaret. For whom?
- Why, for my King! Tush, that's a wooden thing!
- MARGARET. He talks of wood. It is some carpenter.
- SUFFOLK. [Aside] Yet so my fancy may be satisfied,
- And peace established between these realms.
- But there remains a scruple in that too;
- For though her father be the King of Naples,
- Duke of Anjou and Maine, yet is he poor,
- And our nobility will scorn the match.
- MARGARET. Hear ye, Captain-are you not at leisure?
- SUFFOLK. [Aside] It shall be so, disdain they ne'er so much.
- Henry is youthful, and will quickly yield.
- Madam, I have a secret to reveal.
- MARGARET. [Aside] What though I be enthrall'd? He seems
- a knight,
- And will not any way dishonour me.
- SUFFOLK. Lady, vouchsafe to listen what I say.
- MARGARET. [Aside] Perhaps I shall be rescu'd by the French;
- And then I need not crave his courtesy.
- SUFFOLK. Sweet madam, give me hearing in a cause
- MARGARET. [Aside] Tush! women have been captivate ere
- now.
- SUFFOLK. Lady, wherefore talk you so?
- MARGARET. I cry you mercy, 'tis but quid for quo.
- SUFFOLK. Say, gentle Princess, would you not suppose
- Your bondage happy, to be made a queen?
- MARGARET. To be a queen in bondage is more vile
- Than is a slave in base servility;
- For princes should be free.
- SUFFOLK. And so shall you,
- If happy England's royal king be free.
- MARGARET. Why, what concerns his freedom unto me?
- SUFFOLK. I'll undertake to make thee Henry's queen,
- To put a golden sceptre in thy hand
- And set a precious crown upon thy head,
- If thou wilt condescend to be my-
- MARGARET. What?
- SUFFOLK. His love.
- MARGARET. I am unworthy to be Henry's wife.
- SUFFOLK. No, gentle madam; I unworthy am
- To woo so fair a dame to be his wife
- And have no portion in the choice myself.
- How say you, madam? Are ye so content?
- MARGARET. An if my father please, I am content.
- SUFFOLK. Then call our captains and our colours forth!
- And, madam, at your father's castle walls
- We'll crave a parley to confer with him.
-
- Sound a parley. Enter REIGNIER on the walls
-
- See, Reignier, see, thy daughter prisoner!
- REIGNIER. To whom?
- SUFFOLK. To me.
- REIGNIER. Suffolk, what remedy?
- I am a soldier and unapt to weep
- Or to exclaim on fortune's fickleness.
- SUFFOLK. Yes, there is remedy enough, my lord.
- Consent, and for thy honour give consent,
- Thy daughter shall be wedded to my king,
- Whom I with pain have woo'd and won thereto;
- And this her easy-held imprisonment
- Hath gain'd thy daughter princely liberty.
- REIGNIER. Speaks Suffolk as he thinks?
- SUFFOLK. Fair Margaret knows
- That Suffolk doth not flatter, face, or feign.
- REIGNIER. Upon thy princely warrant I descend
- To give thee answer of thy just demand.
- Exit REIGNIER from the walls
- SUFFOLK. And here I will expect thy coming.
-
- Trumpets sound. Enter REIGNIER below
-
- REIGNIER. Welcome, brave Earl, into our territories;
- Command in Anjou what your Honour pleases.
- SUFFOLK. Thanks, Reignier, happy for so sweet a child,
- Fit to be made companion with a king.
- What answer makes your Grace unto my suit?
- REIGNIER. Since thou dost deign to woo her little worth
- To be the princely bride of such a lord,
- Upon condition I may quietly
- Enjoy mine own, the country Maine and Anjou,
- Free from oppression or the stroke of war,
- My daughter shall be Henry's, if he please.
- SUFFOLK. That is her ransom; I deliver her.
- And those two counties I will undertake
- Your Grace shall well and quietly enjoy.
- REIGNIER. And I again, in Henry's royal name,
- As deputy unto that gracious king,
- Give thee her hand for sign of plighted faith.
- SUFFOLK. Reignier of France, I give thee kingly thanks,
- Because this is in traffic of a king.
- [Aside] And yet, methinks, I could be well content
- To be mine own attorney in this case.
- I'll over then to England with this news,
- And make this marriage to be solemniz'd.
- So, farewell, Reignier. Set this diamond safe
- In golden palaces, as it becomes.
- REIGNIER. I do embrace thee as I would embrace
- The Christian prince, King Henry, were he here.
- MARGARET. Farewell, my lord. Good wishes, praise, and
- prayers,
- Shall Suffolk ever have of Margaret. [She is going]
- SUFFOLK. Farewell, sweet madam. But hark you, Margaret
- No princely commendations to my king?
- MARGARET. Such commendations as becomes a maid,
- A virgin, and his servant, say to him.
- SUFFOLK. Words sweetly plac'd and modestly directed.
- But, madam, I must trouble you again
- No loving token to his Majesty?
- MARGARET. Yes, my good lord: a pure unspotted heart,
- Never yet taint with love, I send the King.
- SUFFOLK. And this withal. [Kisses her]
- MARGARET. That for thyself, I will not so presume
- To send such peevish tokens to a king.
- Exeunt REIGNIER and MARGARET
- SUFFOLK. O, wert thou for myself! But, Suffolk, stay;
- Thou mayst not wander in that labyrinth:
- There Minotaurs and ugly treasons lurk.
- Solicit Henry with her wondrous praise.
- Bethink thee on her virtues that surmount,
- And natural graces that extinguish art;
- Repeat their semblance often on the seas,
- That, when thou com'st to kneel at Henry's feet,
- Thou mayst bereave him of his wits with wonder. Exit
-
-
-
-
- SCENE 4.
-
- Camp of the DUKE OF YORK in Anjou
-
- Enter YORK, WARWICK, and others
- YORK. Bring forth that sorceress, condemn'd to burn.
-
- Enter LA PUCELLE, guarded, and a SHEPHERD
-
- SHEPHERD. Ah, Joan, this kills thy father's heart outright!
- Have I sought every country far and near,
- And, now it is my chance to find thee out,
- Must I behold thy timeless cruel death?
- Ah, Joan, sweet daughter Joan, I'll die with thee!
- PUCELLE. Decrepit miser! base ignoble wretch!
- I am descended of a gentler blood;
- Thou art no father nor no friend of mine.
- SHEPHERD. Out, out! My lords, an please you, 'tis not so;
- I did beget her, all the parish knows.
- Her mother liveth yet, can testify
- She was the first fruit of my bach'lorship.
- WARWICK. Graceless, wilt thou deny thy parentage?
- YORK. This argues what her kind of life hath been-
- Wicked and vile; and so her death concludes.
- SHEPHERD. Fie, Joan, that thou wilt be so obstacle!
- God knows thou art a collop of my flesh;
- And for thy sake have I shed many a tear.
- Deny me not, I prithee, gentle Joan.
- PUCELLE. Peasant, avaunt! You have suborn'd this man
- Of purpose to obscure my noble birth.
- SHEPHERD. 'Tis true, I gave a noble to the priest
- The morn that I was wedded to her mother.
- Kneel down and take my blessing, good my girl.
- Wilt thou not stoop? Now cursed be the time
- Of thy nativity. I would the milk
- Thy mother gave thee when thou suck'dst her breast
- Had been a little ratsbane for thy sake.
- Or else, when thou didst keep my lambs afield,
- I wish some ravenous wolf had eaten thee.
- Dost thou deny thy father, cursed drab?
- O, burn her, burn her! Hanging is too good. Exit
- YORK. Take her away; for she hath liv'd too long,
- To fill the world with vicious qualities.
- PUCELLE. First let me tell you whom you have condemn'd:
- Not me begotten of a shepherd swain,
- But issued from the progeny of kings;
- Virtuous and holy, chosen from above
- By inspiration of celestial grace,
- To work exceeding miracles on earth.
- I never had to do with wicked spirits.
- But you, that are polluted with your lusts,
- Stain'd with the guiltless blood of innocents,
- Corrupt and tainted with a thousand vices,
- Because you want the grace that others have,
- You judge it straight a thing impossible
- To compass wonders but by help of devils.
- No, misconceived! Joan of Arc hath been
- A virgin from her tender infancy,
- Chaste and immaculate in very thought;
- Whose maiden blood, thus rigorously effus'd,
- Will cry for vengeance at the gates of heaven.
- YORK. Ay, ay. Away with her to execution!
- WARWICK. And hark ye, sirs; because she is a maid,
- Spare for no fagots, let there be enow.
- Place barrels of pitch upon the fatal stake,
- That so her torture may be shortened.
- PUCELLE. Will nothing turn your unrelenting hearts?
- Then, Joan, discover thine infirmity
- That warranteth by law to be thy privilege:
- I am with child, ye bloody homicides;
- Murder not then the fruit within my womb,
- Although ye hale me to a violent death.
- YORK. Now heaven forfend! The holy maid with child!
- WARWICK. The greatest miracle that e'er ye wrought:
- Is all your strict preciseness come to this?
- YORK. She and the Dauphin have been juggling.
- I did imagine what would be her refuge.
- WARWICK. Well, go to; we'll have no bastards live;
- Especially since Charles must father it.
- PUCELLE. You are deceiv'd; my child is none of his:
- It was Alencon that enjoy'd my love.
- YORK. Alencon, that notorious Machiavel!
- It dies, an if it had a thousand lives.
- PUCELLE. O, give me leave, I have deluded you.
- 'Twas neither Charles nor yet the Duke I nam'd,
- But Reignier, King of Naples, that prevail'd.
- WARWICK. A married man! That's most intolerable.
- YORK. Why, here's a girl! I think she knows not well
- There were so many-whom she may accuse.
- WARWICK. It's sign she hath been liberal and free.
- YORK. And yet, forsooth, she is a virgin pure.
- Strumpet, thy words condemn thy brat and thee.
- Use no entreaty, for it is in vain.
- PUCELLE. Then lead me hence-with whom I leave my
- curse:
- May never glorious sun reflex his beams
- Upon the country where you make abode;
- But darkness and the gloomy shade of death
- Environ you, till mischief and despair
- Drive you to break your necks or hang yourselves!
- Exit, guarded
- YORK. Break thou in pieces and consume to ashes,
- Thou foul accursed minister of hell!
-
- Enter CARDINAL BEAUFORT, attended
-
- CARDINAL. Lord Regent, I do greet your Excellence
- With letters of commission from the King.
- For know, my lords, the states of Christendom,
- Mov'd with remorse of these outrageous broils,
- Have earnestly implor'd a general peace
- Betwixt our nation and the aspiring French;
- And here at hand the Dauphin and his train
- Approacheth, to confer about some matter.
- YORK. Is all our travail turn'd to this effect?
- After the slaughter of so many peers,
- So many captains, gentlemen, and soldiers,
- That in this quarrel have been overthrown
- And sold their bodies for their country's benefit,
- Shall we at last conclude effeminate peace?
- Have we not lost most part of all the towns,
- By treason, falsehood, and by treachery,
- Our great progenitors had conquered?
- O Warwick, Warwick! I foresee with grief
- The utter loss of all the realm of France.
- WARWICK. Be patient, York. If we conclude a peace,
- It shall be with such strict and severe covenants
- As little shall the Frenchmen gain thereby.
-
- Enter CHARLES, ALENCON, BASTARD, REIGNIER, and others
-
- CHARLES. Since, lords of England, it is thus agreed
- That peaceful truce shall be proclaim'd in France,
- We come to be informed by yourselves
- What the conditions of that league must be.
- YORK. Speak, Winchester; for boiling choler chokes
- The hollow passage of my poison'd voice,
- By sight of these our baleful enemies.
- CARDINAL. Charles, and the rest, it is enacted thus:
- That, in regard King Henry gives consent,
- Of mere compassion and of lenity,
- To ease your country of distressful war,
- An suffer you to breathe in fruitful peace,
- You shall become true liegemen to his crown;
- And, Charles, upon condition thou wilt swear
- To pay him tribute and submit thyself,
- Thou shalt be plac'd as viceroy under him,
- And still enjoy thy regal dignity.
- ALENCON. Must he be then as shadow of himself?
- Adorn his temples with a coronet
- And yet, in substance and authority,
- Retain but privilege of a private man?
- This proffer is absurd and reasonless.
- CHARLES. 'Tis known already that I am possess'd
- With more than half the Gallian territories,
- And therein reverenc'd for their lawful king.
- Shall I, for lucre of the rest unvanquish'd,
- Detract so much from that prerogative
- As to be call'd but viceroy of the whole?
- No, Lord Ambassador; I'll rather keep
- That which I have than, coveting for more,
- Be cast from possibility of all.
- YORK. Insulting Charles! Hast thou by secret means
- Us'd intercession to obtain a league,
- And now the matter grows to compromise
- Stand'st thou aloof upon comparison?
- Either accept the title thou usurp'st,
- Of benefit proceeding from our king
- And not of any challenge of desert,
- Or we will plague thee with incessant wars.
- REIGNIER. [To CHARLES] My lord, you do not well in
- obstinacy
- To cavil in the course of this contract.
- If once it be neglected, ten to one
- We shall not find like opportunity.
- ALENCON. [To CHARLES] To say the truth, it is your policy
- To save your subjects from such massacre
- And ruthless slaughters as are daily seen
- By our proceeding in hostility;
- And therefore take this compact of a truce,
- Although you break it when your pleasure serves.
- WARWICK. How say'st thou, Charles? Shall our condition
- stand?
- CHARLES. It shall;
- Only reserv'd, you claim no interest
- In any of our towns of garrison.
- YORK. Then swear allegiance to his Majesty:
- As thou art knight, never to disobey
- Nor be rebellious to the crown of England
- Thou, nor thy nobles, to the crown of England.
- [CHARLES and the rest give tokens of fealty]
- So, now dismiss your army when ye please;
- Hang up your ensigns, let your drums be still,
- For here we entertain a solemn peace. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
- SCENE 5.
-
- London. The palace
-
- Enter SUFFOLK, in conference with the KING,
- GLOUCESTER and EXETER
-
- KING HENRY. Your wondrous rare description, noble Earl,
- Of beauteous Margaret hath astonish'd me.
- Her virtues, graced with external gifts,
- Do breed love's settled passions in my heart;
- And like as rigour of tempestuous gusts
- Provokes the mightiest hulk against the tide,
- So am I driven by breath of her renown
- Either to suffer shipwreck or arrive
- Where I may have fruition of her love.
- SUFFOLK. Tush, my good lord! This superficial tale
- Is but a preface of her worthy praise.
- The chief perfections of that lovely dame,
- Had I sufficient skill to utter them,
- Would make a volume of enticing lines,
- Able to ravish any dull conceit;
- And, which is more, she is not so divine,
- So full-replete with choice of all delights,
- But with as humble lowliness of mind
- She is content to be at your command
- Command, I mean, of virtuous intents,
- To love and honour Henry as her lord.
- KING HENRY. And otherwise will Henry ne'er presume.
- Therefore, my Lord Protector, give consent
- That Margaret may be England's royal Queen.
- GLOUCESTER. So should I give consent to flatter sin.
- You know, my lord, your Highness is betroth'd
- Unto another lady of esteem.
- How shall we then dispense with that contract,
- And not deface your honour with reproach?
- SUFFOLK. As doth a ruler with unlawful oaths;
- Or one that at a triumph, having vow'd
- To try his strength, forsaketh yet the lists
- By reason of his adversary's odds:
- A poor earl's daughter is unequal odds,
- And therefore may be broke without offence.
- GLOUCESTER. Why, what, I pray, is Margaret more than
- that?
- Her father is no better than an earl,
- Although in glorious titles he excel.
- SUFFOLK. Yes, my lord, her father is a king,
- The King of Naples and Jerusalem;
- And of such great authority in France
- As his alliance will confirm our peace,
- And keep the Frenchmen in allegiance.
- GLOUCESTER. And so the Earl of Armagnac may do,
- Because he is near kinsman unto Charles.
- EXETER. Beside, his wealth doth warrant a liberal dower;
- Where Reignier sooner will receive than give.
- SUFFOLK. A dow'r, my lords! Disgrace not so your king,
- That he should be so abject, base, and poor,
- To choose for wealth and not for perfect love.
- Henry is able to enrich his queen,
- And not to seek a queen to make him rich.
- So worthless peasants bargain for their wives,
- As market-men for oxen, sheep, or horse.
- Marriage is a matter of more worth
- Than to be dealt in by attorneyship;
- Not whom we will, but whom his Grace affects,
- Must be companion of his nuptial bed.
- And therefore, lords, since he affects her most,
- It most of all these reasons bindeth us
- In our opinions she should be preferr'd;
- For what is wedlock forced but a hell,
- An age of discord and continual strife?
- Whereas the contrary bringeth bliss,
- And is a pattern of celestial peace.
- Whom should we match with Henry, being a king,
- But Margaret, that is daughter to a king?
- Her peerless feature, joined with her birth,
- Approves her fit for none but for a king;
- Her valiant courage and undaunted spirit,
- More than in women commonly is seen,
- Will answer our hope in issue of a king;
- For Henry, son unto a conqueror,
- Is likely to beget more conquerors,
- If with a lady of so high resolve
- As is fair Margaret he be link'd in love.
- Then yield, my lords; and here conclude with me
- That Margaret shall be Queen, and none but she.
- KING HENRY. Whether it be through force of your report,
- My noble Lord of Suffolk, or for that
- My tender youth was never yet attaint
- With any passion of inflaming love,
- I cannot tell; but this I am assur'd,
- I feel such sharp dissension in my breast,
- Such fierce alarums both of hope and fear,
- As I am sick with working of my thoughts.
- Take therefore shipping; post, my lord, to France;
- Agree to any covenants; and procure
- That Lady Margaret do vouchsafe to come
- To cross the seas to England, and be crown'd
- King Henry's faithful and anointed queen.
- For your expenses and sufficient charge,
- Among the people gather up a tenth.
- Be gone, I say; for till you do return
- I rest perplexed with a thousand cares.
- And you, good uncle, banish all offence:
- If you do censure me by what you were,
- Not what you are, I know it will excuse
- This sudden execution of my will.
- And so conduct me where, from company,
- I may revolve and ruminate my grief. Exit
- GLOUCESTER. Ay, grief, I fear me, both at first and last.
- Exeunt GLOUCESTER and EXETER
- SUFFOLK. Thus Suffolk hath prevail'd; and thus he goes,
- As did the youthful Paris once to Greece,
- With hope to find the like event in love
- But prosper better than the Troyan did.
- Margaret shall now be Queen, and rule the King;
- But I will rule both her, the King, and realm. Exit
-
-
-THE END
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-
-
-1591
-
-THE SECOND PART OF KING HENRY THE SIXTH
-
-by William Shakespeare
-
-
-
-Dramatis Personae
-
- KING HENRY THE SIXTH
- HUMPHREY, DUKE OF GLOUCESTER, his uncle
- CARDINAL BEAUFORT, BISHOP OF WINCHESTER, great-uncle to the King
- RICHARD PLANTAGENET, DUKE OF YORK
- EDWARD and RICHARD, his sons
- DUKE OF SOMERSET
- DUKE OF SUFFOLK
- DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM
- LORD CLIFFORD
- YOUNG CLIFFORD, his son
- EARL OF SALISBURY
- EARL OF WARWICK
- LORD SCALES
- LORD SAY
- SIR HUMPHREY STAFFORD
- WILLIAM STAFFORD, his brother
- SIR JOHN STANLEY
- VAUX
- MATTHEW GOFFE
- A LIEUTENANT, a SHIPMASTER, a MASTER'S MATE, and WALTER WHITMORE
- TWO GENTLEMEN, prisoners with Suffolk
- JOHN HUME and JOHN SOUTHWELL, two priests
- ROGER BOLINGBROKE, a conjurer
- A SPIRIT raised by him
- THOMAS HORNER, an armourer
- PETER, his man
- CLERK OF CHATHAM
- MAYOR OF SAINT ALBANS
- SAUNDER SIMPCOX, an impostor
- ALEXANDER IDEN, a Kentish gentleman
- JACK CADE, a rebel
- GEORGE BEVIS, JOHN HOLLAND, DICK THE BUTCHER, SMITH THE WEAVER,
- MICHAEL, &c., followers of Cade
- TWO MURDERERS
-
- MARGARET, Queen to King Henry
- ELEANOR, Duchess of Gloucester
- MARGERY JOURDAIN, a witch
- WIFE to SIMPCOX
-
- Lords, Ladies, and Attendants; Petitioners, Aldermen, a Herald,
- a Beadle, a Sheriff, Officers, Citizens, Prentices, Falconers,
- Guards, Soldiers, Messengers, &c.
-
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-SCENE:
-England
-
-
-ACT I. SCENE I.
-London. The palace
-
-Flourish of trumpets; then hautboys. Enter the KING, DUKE HUMPHREY
-OF GLOUCESTER, SALISBURY, WARWICK, and CARDINAL BEAUFORT, on the one side;
-the QUEEN, SUFFOLK, YORK, SOMERSET, and BUCKINGHAM, on the other
-
- SUFFOLK. As by your high imperial Majesty
- I had in charge at my depart for France,
- As procurator to your Excellence,
- To marry Princess Margaret for your Grace;
- So, in the famous ancient city Tours,
- In presence of the Kings of France and Sicil,
- The Dukes of Orleans, Calaber, Bretagne, and Alencon,
- Seven earls, twelve barons, and twenty reverend bishops,
- I have perform'd my task, and was espous'd;
- And humbly now upon my bended knee,
- In sight of England and her lordly peers,
- Deliver up my title in the Queen
- To your most gracious hands, that are the substance
- Of that great shadow I did represent:
- The happiest gift that ever marquis gave,
- The fairest queen that ever king receiv'd.
- KING HENRY. Suffolk, arise. Welcome, Queen Margaret:
- I can express no kinder sign of love
- Than this kind kiss. O Lord, that lends me life,
- Lend me a heart replete with thankfulness!
- For thou hast given me in this beauteous face
- A world of earthly blessings to my soul,
- If sympathy of love unite our thoughts.
- QUEEN. Great King of England, and my gracious lord,
- The mutual conference that my mind hath had,
- By day, by night, waking and in my dreams,
- In courtly company or at my beads,
- With you, mine alder-liefest sovereign,
- Makes me the bolder to salute my king
- With ruder terms, such as my wit affords
- And over-joy of heart doth minister.
- KING HENRY. Her sight did ravish, but her grace in speech,
- Her words y-clad with wisdom's majesty,
- Makes me from wond'ring fall to weeping joys,
- Such is the fulness of my heart's content.
- Lords, with one cheerful voice welcome my love.
- ALL. [Kneeling] Long live Queen Margaret, England's happiness!
- QUEEN. We thank you all. [Flourish]
- SUFFOLK. My Lord Protector, so it please your Grace,
- Here are the articles of contracted peace
- Between our sovereign and the French King Charles,
- For eighteen months concluded by consent.
- GLOUCESTER. [Reads] 'Imprimis: It is agreed between the French King
- Charles and William de la Pole, Marquess of Suffolk, ambassador
- for Henry King of England, that the said Henry shall espouse the
- Lady Margaret, daughter unto Reignier King of Naples, Sicilia,
- and Jerusalem, and crown her Queen of England ere the thirtieth
- of May next ensuing.
- Item: That the duchy of Anjou and the county of Maine shall be
- released and delivered to the King her father'-
- [Lets the paper fall]
- KING HENRY. Uncle, how now!
- GLOUCESTER. Pardon me, gracious lord;
- Some sudden qualm hath struck me at the heart,
- And dimm'd mine eyes, that I can read no further.
- KING HENRY. Uncle of Winchester, I pray read on.
- CARDINAL. [Reads] 'Item: It is further agreed between them that the
- duchies of Anjou and Maine shall be released and delivered over
- to the King her father, and she sent over of the King of
- England's own proper cost and charges, without having any dowry.'
- KING HENRY. They please us well. Lord Marquess, kneel down.
- We here create thee the first Duke of Suffolk,
- And girt thee with the sword. Cousin of York,
- We here discharge your Grace from being Regent
- I' th' parts of France, till term of eighteen months
- Be full expir'd. Thanks, uncle Winchester,
- Gloucester, York, Buckingham, Somerset,
- Salisbury, and Warwick;
- We thank you all for this great favour done
- In entertainment to my princely queen.
- Come, let us in, and with all speed provide
- To see her coronation be perform'd.
- Exeunt KING, QUEEN, and SUFFOLK
- GLOUCESTER. Brave peers of England, pillars of the state,
- To you Duke Humphrey must unload his grief
- Your grief, the common grief of all the land.
- What! did my brother Henry spend his youth,
- His valour, coin, and people, in the wars?
- Did he so often lodge in open field,
- In winter's cold and summer's parching heat,
- To conquer France, his true inheritance?
- And did my brother Bedford toil his wits
- To keep by policy what Henry got?
- Have you yourselves, Somerset, Buckingham,
- Brave York, Salisbury, and victorious Warwick,
- Receiv'd deep scars in France and Normandy?
- Or hath mine uncle Beaufort and myself,
- With all the learned Council of the realm,
- Studied so long, sat in the Council House
- Early and late, debating to and fro
- How France and Frenchmen might be kept in awe?
- And had his Highness in his infancy
- Crowned in Paris, in despite of foes?
- And shall these labours and these honours die?
- Shall Henry's conquest, Bedford's vigilance,
- Your deeds of war, and all our counsel die?
- O peers of England, shameful is this league!
- Fatal this marriage, cancelling your fame,
- Blotting your names from books of memory,
- Razing the characters of your renown,
- Defacing monuments of conquer'd France,
- Undoing all, as all had never been!
- CARDINAL. Nephew, what means this passionate discourse,
- This peroration with such circumstance?
- For France, 'tis ours; and we will keep it still.
- GLOUCESTER. Ay, uncle, we will keep it if we can;
- But now it is impossible we should.
- Suffolk, the new-made duke that rules the roast,
- Hath given the duchy of Anjou and Maine
- Unto the poor King Reignier, whose large style
- Agrees not with the leanness of his purse.
- SALISBURY. Now, by the death of Him that died for all,
- These counties were the keys of Normandy!
- But wherefore weeps Warwick, my valiant son?
- WARWICK. For grief that they are past recovery;
- For were there hope to conquer them again
- My sword should shed hot blood, mine eyes no tears.
- Anjou and Maine! myself did win them both;
- Those provinces these arms of mine did conquer;
- And are the cities that I got with wounds
- Deliver'd up again with peaceful words?
- Mort Dieu!
- YORK. For Suffolk's duke, may he be suffocate,
- That dims the honour of this warlike isle!
- France should have torn and rent my very heart
- Before I would have yielded to this league.
- I never read but England's kings have had
- Large sums of gold and dowries with their wives;
- And our King Henry gives away his own
- To match with her that brings no vantages.
- GLOUCESTER. A proper jest, and never heard before,
- That Suffolk should demand a whole fifteenth
- For costs and charges in transporting her!
- She should have stay'd in France, and starv'd in France,
- Before-
- CARDINAL. My Lord of Gloucester, now ye grow too hot:
- It was the pleasure of my lord the King.
- GLOUCESTER. My Lord of Winchester, I know your mind;
- 'Tis not my speeches that you do mislike,
- But 'tis my presence that doth trouble ye.
- Rancour will out: proud prelate, in thy face
- I see thy fury; if I longer stay
- We shall begin our ancient bickerings.
- Lordings, farewell; and say, when I am gone,
- I prophesied France will be lost ere long. Exit
- CARDINAL. So, there goes our Protector in a rage.
- 'Tis known to you he is mine enemy;
- Nay, more, an enemy unto you all,
- And no great friend, I fear me, to the King.
- Consider, lords, he is the next of blood
- And heir apparent to the English crown.
- Had Henry got an empire by his marriage
- And all the wealthy kingdoms of the west,
- There's reason he should be displeas'd at it.
- Look to it, lords; let not his smoothing words
- Bewitch your hearts; be wise and circumspect.
- What though the common people favour him,
- Calling him 'Humphrey, the good Duke of Gloucester,'
- Clapping their hands, and crying with loud voice
- 'Jesu maintain your royal excellence!'
- With 'God preserve the good Duke Humphrey!'
- I fear me, lords, for all this flattering gloss,
- He will be found a dangerous Protector.
- BUCKINGHAM. Why should he then protect our sovereign,
- He being of age to govern of himself?
- Cousin of Somerset, join you with me,
- And all together, with the Duke of Suffolk,
- We'll quickly hoise Duke Humphrey from his seat.
- CARDINAL. This weighty business will not brook delay;
- I'll to the Duke of Suffolk presently. Exit
- SOMERSET. Cousin of Buckingham, though Humphrey's pride
- And greatness of his place be grief to us,
- Yet let us watch the haughty cardinal;
- His insolence is more intolerable
- Than all the princes in the land beside;
- If Gloucester be displac'd, he'll be Protector.
- BUCKINGHAM. Or thou or I, Somerset, will be Protector,
- Despite Duke Humphrey or the Cardinal.
- Exeunt BUCKINGHAM and SOMERSET
- SALISBURY. Pride went before, ambition follows him.
- While these do labour for their own preferment,
- Behoves it us to labour for the realm.
- I never saw but Humphrey Duke of Gloucester
- Did bear him like a noble gentleman.
- Oft have I seen the haughty Cardinal-
- More like a soldier than a man o' th' church,
- As stout and proud as he were lord of all-
- Swear like a ruffian and demean himself
- Unlike the ruler of a commonweal.
- Warwick my son, the comfort of my age,
- Thy deeds, thy plainness, and thy housekeeping,
- Hath won the greatest favour of the commons,
- Excepting none but good Duke Humphrey.
- And, brother York, thy acts in Ireland,
- In bringing them to civil discipline,
- Thy late exploits done in the heart of France
- When thou wert Regent for our sovereign,
- Have made thee fear'd and honour'd of the people:
- Join we together for the public good,
- In what we can, to bridle and suppress
- The pride of Suffolk and the Cardinal,
- With Somerset's and Buckingham's ambition;
- And, as we may, cherish Duke Humphrey's deeds
- While they do tend the profit of the land.
- WARWICK. So God help Warwick, as he loves the land
- And common profit of his country!
- YORK. And so says York- [Aside] for he hath greatest cause.
- SALISBURY. Then let's make haste away and look unto the main.
- WARWICK. Unto the main! O father, Maine is lost-
- That Maine which by main force Warwick did win,
- And would have kept so long as breath did last.
- Main chance, father, you meant; but I meant Maine,
- Which I will win from France, or else be slain.
- Exeunt WARWICK and SALISBURY
- YORK. Anjou and Maine are given to the French;
- Paris is lost; the state of Normandy
- Stands on a tickle point now they are gone.
- Suffolk concluded on the articles;
- The peers agreed; and Henry was well pleas'd
- To changes two dukedoms for a duke's fair daughter.
- I cannot blame them all: what is't to them?
- 'Tis thine they give away, and not their own.
- Pirates may make cheap pennyworths of their pillage,
- And purchase friends, and give to courtezans,
- Still revelling like lords till all be gone;
- While as the silly owner of the goods
- Weeps over them and wrings his hapless hands
- And shakes his head and trembling stands aloof,
- While all is shar'd and all is borne away,
- Ready to starve and dare not touch his own.
- So York must sit and fret and bite his tongue,
- While his own lands are bargain'd for and sold.
- Methinks the realms of England, France, and Ireland,
- Bear that proportion to my flesh and blood
- As did the fatal brand Althaea burnt
- Unto the prince's heart of Calydon.
- Anjou and Maine both given unto the French!
- Cold news for me, for I had hope of France,
- Even as I have of fertile England's soil.
- A day will come when York shall claim his own;
- And therefore I will take the Nevils' parts,
- And make a show of love to proud Duke Humphrey,
- And when I spy advantage, claim the crown,
- For that's the golden mark I seek to hit.
- Nor shall proud Lancaster usurp my right,
- Nor hold the sceptre in his childish fist,
- Nor wear the diadem upon his head,
- Whose church-like humours fits not for a crown.
- Then, York, be still awhile, till time do serve;
- Watch thou and wake, when others be asleep,
- To pry into the secrets of the state;
- Till Henry, surfeiting in joys of love
- With his new bride and England's dear-bought queen,
- And Humphrey with the peers be fall'n at jars;
- Then will I raise aloft the milk-white rose,
- With whose sweet smell the air shall be perfum'd,
- And in my standard bear the arms of York,
- To grapple with the house of Lancaster;
- And force perforce I'll make him yield the crown,
- Whose bookish rule hath pull'd fair England down. Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-The DUKE OF GLOUCESTER'S house
-
-Enter DUKE and his wife ELEANOR
-
- DUCHESS. Why droops my lord, like over-ripen'd corn
- Hanging the head at Ceres' plenteous load?
- Why doth the great Duke Humphrey knit his brows,
- As frowning at the favours of the world?
- Why are thine eyes fix'd to the sullen earth,
- Gazing on that which seems to dim thy sight?
- What see'st thou there? King Henry's diadem,
- Enchas'd with all the honours of the world?
- If so, gaze on, and grovel on thy face
- Until thy head be circled with the same.
- Put forth thy hand, reach at the glorious gold.
- What, is't too short? I'll lengthen it with mine;
- And having both together heav'd it up,
- We'll both together lift our heads to heaven,
- And never more abase our sight so low
- As to vouchsafe one glance unto the ground.
- GLOUCESTER. O Nell, sweet Nell, if thou dost love thy lord,
- Banish the canker of ambitious thoughts!
- And may that thought, when I imagine ill
- Against my king and nephew, virtuous Henry,
- Be my last breathing in this mortal world!
- My troublous dreams this night doth make me sad.
- DUCHESS. What dream'd my lord? Tell me, and I'll requite it
- With sweet rehearsal of my morning's dream.
- GLOUCESTER. Methought this staff, mine office-badge in court,
- Was broke in twain; by whom I have forgot,
- But, as I think, it was by th' Cardinal;
- And on the pieces of the broken wand
- Were plac'd the heads of Edmund Duke of Somerset
- And William de la Pole, first Duke of Suffolk.
- This was my dream; what it doth bode God knows.
- DUCHESS. Tut, this was nothing but an argument
- That he that breaks a stick of Gloucester's grove
- Shall lose his head for his presumption.
- But list to me, my Humphrey, my sweet Duke:
- Methought I sat in seat of majesty
- In the cathedral church of Westminster,
- And in that chair where kings and queens were crown'd;
- Where Henry and Dame Margaret kneel'd to me,
- And on my head did set the diadem.
- GLOUCESTER. Nay, Eleanor, then must I chide outright.
- Presumptuous dame, ill-nurtur'd Eleanor!
- Art thou not second woman in the realm,
- And the Protector's wife, belov'd of him?
- Hast thou not worldly pleasure at command
- Above the reach or compass of thy thought?
- And wilt thou still be hammering treachery
- To tumble down thy husband and thyself
- From top of honour to disgrace's feet?
- Away from me, and let me hear no more!
- DUCHESS. What, what, my lord! Are you so choleric
- With Eleanor for telling but her dream?
- Next time I'll keep my dreams unto myself
- And not be check'd.
- GLOUCESTER. Nay, be not angry; I am pleas'd again.
-
- Enter a MESSENGER
-
- MESSENGER. My Lord Protector, 'tis his Highness' pleasure
- You do prepare to ride unto Saint Albans,
- Where as the King and Queen do mean to hawk.
- GLOUCESTER. I go. Come, Nell, thou wilt ride with us?
- DUCHESS. Yes, my good lord, I'll follow presently.
- Exeunt GLOUCESTER and MESSENGER
- Follow I must; I cannot go before,
- While Gloucester bears this base and humble mind.
- Were I a man, a duke, and next of blood,
- I would remove these tedious stumbling-blocks
- And smooth my way upon their headless necks;
- And, being a woman, I will not be slack
- To play my part in Fortune's pageant.
- Where are you there, Sir John? Nay, fear not, man,
- We are alone; here's none but thee and I.
-
- Enter HUME
-
- HUME. Jesus preserve your royal Majesty!
- DUCHESS. What say'st thou? Majesty! I am but Grace.
- HUME. But, by the grace of God and Hume's advice,
- Your Grace's title shall be multiplied.
- DUCHESS. What say'st thou, man? Hast thou as yet conferr'd
- With Margery Jourdain, the cunning witch of Eie,
- With Roger Bolingbroke, the conjurer?
- And will they undertake to do me good?
- HUME. This they have promised, to show your Highness
- A spirit rais'd from depth of underground
- That shall make answer to such questions
- As by your Grace shall be propounded him
- DUCHESS. It is enough; I'll think upon the questions;
- When from Saint Albans we do make return
- We'll see these things effected to the full.
- Here, Hume, take this reward; make merry, man,
- With thy confederates in this weighty cause. Exit
- HUME. Hume must make merry with the Duchess' gold;
- Marry, and shall. But, how now, Sir John Hume!
- Seal up your lips and give no words but mum:
- The business asketh silent secrecy.
- Dame Eleanor gives gold to bring the witch:
- Gold cannot come amiss were she a devil.
- Yet have I gold flies from another coast-
- I dare not say from the rich Cardinal,
- And from the great and new-made Duke of Suffolk;
- Yet I do find it so; for, to be plain,
- They, knowing Dame Eleanor's aspiring humour,
- Have hired me to undermine the Duchess,
- And buzz these conjurations in her brain.
- They say 'A crafty knave does need no broker';
- Yet am I Suffolk and the Cardinal's broker.
- Hume, if you take not heed, you shall go near
- To call them both a pair of crafty knaves.
- Well, so its stands; and thus, I fear, at last
- Hume's knavery will be the Duchess' wreck,
- And her attainture will be Humphrey's fall
- Sort how it will, I shall have gold for all. Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-London. The palace
-
-Enter three or four PETITIONERS, PETER, the Armourer's man, being one
-
- FIRST PETITIONER. My masters, let's stand close; my Lord Protector
- will come this way by and by, and then we may deliver our
- supplications in the quill.
- SECOND PETITIONER. Marry, the Lord protect him, for he's a good
- man, Jesu bless him!
-
- Enter SUFFOLK and QUEEN
-
- FIRST PETITIONER. Here 'a comes, methinks, and the Queen with him.
- I'll be the first, sure.
- SECOND PETITIONER. Come back, fool; this is the Duke of Suffolk and
- not my Lord Protector.
- SUFFOLK. How now, fellow! Wouldst anything with me?
- FIRST PETITIONER. I pray, my lord, pardon me; I took ye for my Lord
- Protector.
- QUEEN. [Reads] 'To my Lord Protector!' Are your supplications to
- his lordship? Let me see them. What is thine?
- FIRST PETITIONER. Mine is, an't please your Grace, against John
- Goodman, my Lord Cardinal's man, for keeping my house and lands,
- and wife and all, from me.
- SUFFOLK. Thy wife too! That's some wrong indeed. What's yours?
- What's here! [Reads] 'Against the Duke of Suffolk, for enclosing
- the commons of Melford.' How now, sir knave!
- SECOND PETITIONER. Alas, sir, I am but a poor petitioner of our
- whole township.
- PETER. [Presenting his petition] Against my master, Thomas Horner,
- for saying that the Duke of York was rightful heir to the crown.
- QUEEN. What say'st thou? Did the Duke of York say he was rightful
- heir to the crown?
- PETER. That my master was? No, forsooth. My master said that he
- was, and that the King was an usurper.
- SUFFOLK. Who is there? [Enter servant] Take this fellow in, and
- send for his master with a pursuivant presently. We'll hear more
- of your matter before the King.
- Exit servant with PETER
- QUEEN. And as for you, that love to be protected
- Under the wings of our Protector's grace,
- Begin your suits anew, and sue to him.
- [Tears the supplications]
- Away, base cullions! Suffolk, let them go.
- ALL. Come, let's be gone. Exeunt
- QUEEN. My Lord of Suffolk, say, is this the guise,
- Is this the fashions in the court of England?
- Is this the government of Britain's isle,
- And this the royalty of Albion's king?
- What, shall King Henry be a pupil still,
- Under the surly Gloucester's governance?
- Am I a queen in title and in style,
- And must be made a subject to a duke?
- I tell thee, Pole, when in the city Tours
- Thou ran'st a tilt in honour of my love
- And stol'st away the ladies' hearts of France,
- I thought King Henry had resembled thee
- In courage, courtship, and proportion;
- But all his mind is bent to holiness,
- To number Ave-Maries on his beads;
- His champions are the prophets and apostles;
- His weapons, holy saws of sacred writ;
- His study is his tilt-yard, and his loves
- Are brazen images of canonized saints.
- I would the college of the Cardinals
- Would choose him Pope, and carry him to Rome,
- And set the triple crown upon his head;
- That were a state fit for his holiness.
- SUFFOLK. Madam, be patient. As I was cause
- Your Highness came to England, so will I
- In England work your Grace's full content.
- QUEEN. Beside the haughty Protector, have we Beaufort
- The imperious churchman; Somerset, Buckingham,
- And grumbling York; and not the least of these
- But can do more in England than the King.
- SUFFOLK. And he of these that can do most of all
- Cannot do more in England than the Nevils;
- Salisbury and Warwick are no simple peers.
- QUEEN. Not all these lords do vex me half so much
- As that proud dame, the Lord Protector's wife.
- She sweeps it through the court with troops of ladies,
- More like an empress than Duke Humphrey's wife.
- Strangers in court do take her for the Queen.
- She bears a duke's revenues on her back,
- And in her heart she scorns our poverty;
- Shall I not live to be aveng'd on her?
- Contemptuous base-born callet as she is,
- She vaunted 'mongst her minions t' other day
- The very train of her worst wearing gown
- Was better worth than all my father's lands,
- Till Suffolk gave two dukedoms for his daughter.
- SUFFOLK. Madam, myself have lim'd a bush for her,
- And plac'd a quire of such enticing birds
- That she will light to listen to the lays,
- And never mount to trouble you again.
- So, let her rest. And, madam, list to me,
- For I am bold to counsel you in this:
- Although we fancy not the Cardinal,
- Yet must we join with him and with the lords,
- Till we have brought Duke Humphrey in disgrace.
- As for the Duke of York, this late complaint
- Will make but little for his benefit.
- So one by one we'll weed them all at last,
- And you yourself shall steer the happy helm.
-
- Sound a sennet. Enter the KING, DUKE HUMPHREY,
- CARDINAL BEAUFORT, BUCKINGHAM, YORK, SOMERSET, SALISBURY,
- WARWICK, and the DUCHESS OF GLOUCESTER
-
- KING HENRY. For my part, noble lords, I care not which:
- Or Somerset or York, all's one to me.
- YORK. If York have ill demean'd himself in France,
- Then let him be denay'd the regentship.
- SOMERSET. If Somerset be unworthy of the place,
- Let York be Regent; I will yield to him.
- WARWICK. Whether your Grace be worthy, yea or no,
- Dispute not that; York is the worthier.
- CARDINAL. Ambitious Warwick, let thy betters speak.
- WARWICK. The Cardinal's not my better in the field.
- BUCKINGHAM. All in this presence are thy betters, Warwick.
- WARWICK. Warwick may live to be the best of all.
- SALISBURY. Peace, son! And show some reason, Buckingham,
- Why Somerset should be preferr'd in this.
- QUEEN. Because the King, forsooth, will have it so.
- GLOUCESTER. Madam, the King is old enough himself
- To give his censure. These are no women's matters.
- QUEEN. If he be old enough, what needs your Grace
- To be Protector of his Excellence?
- GLOUCESTER. Madam, I am Protector of the realm;
- And at his pleasure will resign my place.
- SUFFOLK. Resign it then, and leave thine insolence.
- Since thou wert king- as who is king but thou?-
- The commonwealth hath daily run to wrack,
- The Dauphin hath prevail'd beyond the seas,
- And all the peers and nobles of the realm
- Have been as bondmen to thy sovereignty.
- CARDINAL. The commons hast thou rack'd; the clergy's bags
- Are lank and lean with thy extortions.
- SOMERSET. Thy sumptuous buildings and thy wife's attire
- Have cost a mass of public treasury.
- BUCKINGHAM. Thy cruelty in execution
- Upon offenders hath exceeded law,
- And left thee to the mercy of the law.
- QUEEN. Thy sale of offices and towns in France,
- If they were known, as the suspect is great,
- Would make thee quickly hop without thy head.
- Exit GLOUCESTER. The QUEEN drops QUEEN her fan
- Give me my fan. What, minion, can ye not?
- [She gives the DUCHESS a box on the ear]
- I cry your mercy, madam; was it you?
- DUCHESS. Was't I? Yea, I it was, proud Frenchwoman.
- Could I come near your beauty with my nails,
- I could set my ten commandments in your face.
- KING HENRY. Sweet aunt, be quiet; 'twas against her will.
- DUCHESS. Against her will, good King? Look to 't in time;
- She'll hamper thee and dandle thee like a baby.
- Though in this place most master wear no breeches,
- She shall not strike Dame Eleanor unreveng'd. Exit
- BUCKINGHAM. Lord Cardinal, I will follow Eleanor,
- And listen after Humphrey, how he proceeds.
- She's tickled now; her fume needs no spurs,
- She'll gallop far enough to her destruction. Exit
-
- Re-enter GLOUCESTER
-
- GLOUCESTER. Now, lords, my choler being overblown
- With walking once about the quadrangle,
- I come to talk of commonwealth affairs.
- As for your spiteful false objections,
- Prove them, and I lie open to the law;
- But God in mercy so deal with my soul
- As I in duty love my king and country!
- But to the matter that we have in hand:
- I say, my sovereign, York is meetest man
- To be your Regent in the realm of France.
- SUFFOLK. Before we make election, give me leave
- To show some reason, of no little force,
- That York is most unmeet of any man.
- YORK. I'll tell thee, Suffolk, why I am unmeet:
- First, for I cannot flatter thee in pride;
- Next, if I be appointed for the place,
- My Lord of Somerset will keep me here
- Without discharge, money, or furniture,
- Till France be won into the Dauphin's hands.
- Last time I danc'd attendance on his will
- Till Paris was besieg'd, famish'd, and lost.
- WARWICK. That can I witness; and a fouler fact
- Did never traitor in the land commit.
- SUFFOLK. Peace, headstrong Warwick!
- WARWICK. Image of pride, why should I hold my peace?
-
- Enter HORNER, the Armourer, and his man PETER, guarded
-
- SUFFOLK. Because here is a man accus'd of treason:
- Pray God the Duke of York excuse himself!
- YORK. Doth any one accuse York for a traitor?
- KING HENRY. What mean'st thou, Suffolk? Tell me, what are these?
- SUFFOLK. Please it your Majesty, this is the man
- That doth accuse his master of high treason;
- His words were these: that Richard Duke of York
- Was rightful heir unto the English crown,
- And that your Majesty was an usurper.
- KING HENRY. Say, man, were these thy words?
- HORNER. An't shall please your Majesty, I never said nor thought
- any such matter. God is my witness, I am falsely accus'd by the
- villain.
- PETER. [Holding up his hands] By these ten bones, my lords, he did
- speak them to me in the garret one night, as we were scouring my
- Lord of York's armour.
- YORK. Base dunghill villain and mechanical,
- I'll have thy head for this thy traitor's speech.
- I do beseech your royal Majesty,
- Let him have all the rigour of the law.
- HORNER`. Alas, my lord, hang me if ever I spake the words. My
- accuser is my prentice; and when I did correct him for his fault
- the other day, he did vow upon his knees he would be even with
- me. I have good witness of this; therefore I beseech your
- Majesty, do not cast away an honest man for a villain's
- accusation.
- KING HENRY. Uncle, what shall we say to this in law?
- GLOUCESTER. This doom, my lord, if I may judge:
- Let Somerset be Regent o'er the French,
- Because in York this breeds suspicion;
- And let these have a day appointed them
- For single combat in convenient place,
- For he hath witness of his servant's malice.
- This is the law, and this Duke Humphrey's doom.
- SOMERSET. I humbly thank your royal Majesty.
- HORNER. And I accept the combat willingly.
- PETER. Alas, my lord, I cannot fight; for God's sake, pity my case!
- The spite of man prevaileth against me. O Lord, have mercy upon
- me, I shall never be able to fight a blow! O Lord, my heart!
- GLOUCESTER. Sirrah, or you must fight or else be hang'd.
- KING HENRY. Away with them to prison; and the day of combat shall
- be the last of the next month.
- Come, Somerset, we'll see thee sent away. Flourish. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE IV.
-London. The DUKE OF GLOUCESTER'S garden
-
-Enter MARGERY JOURDAIN, the witch; the two priests, HUME and SOUTHWELL;
-and BOLINGBROKE
-
- HUME. Come, my masters; the Duchess, I tell you, expects
- performance of your promises.
- BOLINGBROKE. Master Hume, we are therefore provided; will her
- ladyship behold and hear our exorcisms?
- HUME. Ay, what else? Fear you not her courage.
- BOLINGBROKE. I have heard her reported to be a woman of an
- invincible spirit; but it shall be convenient, Master Hume, that
- you be by her aloft while we be busy below; and so I pray you go,
- in God's name, and leave us. [Exit HUME] Mother Jourdain, be you
- prostrate and grovel on the earth; John Southwell, read you; and
- let us to our work.
-
- Enter DUCHESS aloft, followed by HUME
-
- DUCHESS. Well said, my masters; and welcome all. To this gear, the
- sooner the better.
- BOLINGBROKE. Patience, good lady; wizards know their times:
- Deep night, dark night, the silent of the night,
- The time of night when Troy was set on fire;
- The time when screech-owls cry and ban-dogs howl,
- And spirits walk and ghosts break up their graves-
- That time best fits the work we have in hand.
- Madam, sit you, and fear not: whom we raise
- We will make fast within a hallow'd verge.
-
- [Here they do the ceremonies belonging, and make the circle;
- BOLINGBROKE or SOUTHWELL reads: 'Conjuro te,' &c.
- It thunders and lightens terribly; then the SPIRIT riseth]
-
- SPIRIT. Adsum.
- MARGERY JOURDAIN. Asmath,
- By the eternal God, whose name and power
- Thou tremblest at, answer that I shall ask;
- For till thou speak thou shalt not pass from hence.
- SPIRIT. Ask what thou wilt; that I had said and done.
- BOLINGBROKE. [Reads] 'First of the king: what shall of him become?'
- SPIRIT. The Duke yet lives that Henry shall depose;
- But him outlive, and die a violent death.
- [As the SPIRIT speaks, SOUTHWELL writes the answer]
- BOLINGBROKE. 'What fates await the Duke of Suffolk?'
- SPIRIT. By water shall he die and take his end.
- BOLINGBROKE. 'What shall befall the Duke of Somerset?'
- SPIRIT. Let him shun castles:
- Safer shall he be upon the sandy plains
- Than where castles mounted stand.
- Have done, for more I hardly can endure.
- BOLINGBROKE. Descend to darkness and the burning lake;
- False fiend, avoid! Thunder and lightning. Exit SPIRIT
-
- Enter the DUKE OF YORK and the DUKE OF
- BUCKINGHAM with guard, and break in
-
- YORK. Lay hands upon these traitors and their trash.
- Beldam, I think we watch'd you at an inch.
- What, madam, are you there? The King and commonweal
- Are deeply indebted for this piece of pains;
- My Lord Protector will, I doubt it not,
- See you well guerdon'd for these good deserts.
- DUCHESS. Not half so bad as thine to England's king,
- Injurious Duke, that threatest where's no cause.
- BUCKINGHAM. True, madam, none at all. What can you this?
- Away with them! let them be clapp'd up close,
- And kept asunder. You, madam, shall with us.
- Stafford, take her to thee.
- We'll see your trinkets here all forthcoming.
- All, away!
- Exeunt, above, DUCHESS and HUME, guarded; below,
- WITCH, SOUTHWELL and BOLINGBROKE, guarded
- YORK. Lord Buckingham, methinks you watch'd her well.
- A pretty plot, well chosen to build upon!
- Now, pray, my lord, let's see the devil's writ.
- What have we here? [Reads]
- 'The duke yet lives that Henry shall depose;
- But him outlive, and die a violent death.'
- Why, this is just
- 'Aio te, Aeacida, Romanos vincere posse.'
- Well, to the rest:
- 'Tell me what fate awaits the Duke of Suffolk?'
- 'By water shall he die and take his end.'
- 'What shall betide the Duke of Somerset?'
- 'Let him shun castles;
- Safer shall he be upon the sandy plains
- Than where castles mounted stand.'
- Come, come, my lords;
- These oracles are hardly attain'd,
- And hardly understood.
- The King is now in progress towards Saint Albans,
- With him the husband of this lovely lady;
- Thither go these news as fast as horse can carry them-
- A sorry breakfast for my Lord Protector.
- BUCKINGHAM. Your Grace shall give me leave, my Lord of York,
- To be the post, in hope of his reward.
- YORK. At your pleasure, my good lord.
- Who's within there, ho?
-
- Enter a serving-man
-
- Invite my Lords of Salisbury and Warwick
- To sup with me to-morrow night. Away! Exeunt
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT II. SCENE I.
-Saint Albans
-
-Enter the KING, QUEEN, GLOUCESTER, CARDINAL, and SUFFOLK,
-with Falconers halloing
-
- QUEEN. Believe me, lords, for flying at the brook,
- I saw not better sport these seven years' day;
- Yet, by your leave, the wind was very high,
- And ten to one old Joan had not gone out.
- KING HENRY. But what a point, my lord, your falcon made,
- And what a pitch she flew above the rest!
- To see how God in all His creatures works!
- Yea, man and birds are fain of climbing high.
- SUFFOLK. No marvel, an it like your Majesty,
- My Lord Protector's hawks do tow'r so well;
- They know their master loves to be aloft,
- And bears his thoughts above his falcon's pitch.
- GLOUCESTER. My lord, 'tis but a base ignoble mind
- That mounts no higher than a bird can soar.
- CARDINAL. I thought as much; he would be above the clouds.
- GLOUCESTER. Ay, my lord Cardinal, how think you by that?
- Were it not good your Grace could fly to heaven?
- KING HENRY. The treasury of everlasting joy!
- CARDINAL. Thy heaven is on earth; thine eyes and thoughts
- Beat on a crown, the treasure of thy heart;
- Pernicious Protector, dangerous peer,
- That smooth'st it so with King and commonweal.
- GLOUCESTER. What, Cardinal, is your priesthood grown peremptory?
- Tantaene animis coelestibus irae?
- Churchmen so hot? Good uncle, hide such malice;
- With such holiness can you do it?
- SUFFOLK. No malice, sir; no more than well becomes
- So good a quarrel and so bad a peer.
- GLOUCESTER. As who, my lord?
- SUFFOLK. Why, as you, my lord,
- An't like your lordly Lord's Protectorship.
- GLOUCESTER. Why, Suffolk, England knows thine insolence.
- QUEEN. And thy ambition, Gloucester.
- KING HENRY. I prithee, peace,
- Good Queen, and whet not on these furious peers;
- For blessed are the peacemakers on earth.
- CARDINAL. Let me be blessed for the peace I make
- Against this proud Protector with my sword!
- GLOUCESTER. [Aside to CARDINAL] Faith, holy uncle, would 'twere
- come to that!
- CARDINAL. [Aside to GLOUCESTER] Marry, when thou dar'st.
- GLOUCESTER. [Aside to CARDINAL] Make up no factious numbers for the
- matter;
- In thine own person answer thy abuse.
- CARDINAL. [Aside to GLOUCESTER] Ay, where thou dar'st not peep; an
- if thou dar'st,
- This evening on the east side of the grove.
- KING HENRY. How now, my lords!
- CARDINAL. Believe me, cousin Gloucester,
- Had not your man put up the fowl so suddenly,
- We had had more sport. [Aside to GLOUCESTER] Come with thy
- two-hand sword.
- GLOUCESTER. True, uncle.
- CARDINAL. [Aside to GLOUCESTER] Are ye advis'd? The east side of
- the grove?
- GLOUCESTER. [Aside to CARDINAL] Cardinal, I am with you.
- KING HENRY. Why, how now, uncle Gloucester!
- GLOUCESTER. Talking of hawking; nothing else, my lord.
- [Aside to CARDINAL] Now, by God's Mother, priest,
- I'll shave your crown for this,
- Or all my fence shall fail.
- CARDINAL. [Aside to GLOUCESTER] Medice, teipsum;
- Protector, see to't well; protect yourself.
- KING HENRY. The winds grow high; so do your stomachs, lords.
- How irksome is this music to my heart!
- When such strings jar, what hope of harmony?
- I pray, my lords, let me compound this strife.
-
- Enter a TOWNSMAN of Saint Albans, crying 'A miracle!'
-
- GLOUCESTER. What means this noise?
- Fellow, what miracle dost thou proclaim?
- TOWNSMAN. A miracle! A miracle!
- SUFFOLK. Come to the King, and tell him what miracle.
- TOWNSMAN. Forsooth, a blind man at Saint Albans shrine
- Within this half hour hath receiv'd his sight;
- A man that ne'er saw in his life before.
- KING HENRY. Now God be prais'd that to believing souls
- Gives light in darkness, comfort in despair!
-
- Enter the MAYOR OF SAINT ALBANS and his brethren,
- bearing Simpcox between two in a chair;
- his WIFE and a multitude following
-
- CARDINAL. Here comes the townsmen on procession
- To present your Highness with the man.
- KING HENRY. Great is his comfort in this earthly vale,
- Although by his sight his sin be multiplied.
- GLOUCESTER. Stand by, my masters; bring him near the King;
- His Highness' pleasure is to talk with him.
- KING HENRY. Good fellow, tell us here the circumstance,
- That we for thee may glorify the Lord.
- What, hast thou been long blind and now restor'd?
- SIMPCOX. Born blind, an't please your Grace.
- WIFE. Ay indeed was he.
- SUFFOLK. What woman is this?
- WIFE. His wife, an't like your worship.
- GLOUCESTER. Hadst thou been his mother, thou couldst have better
- told.
- KING HENRY. Where wert thou born?
- SIMPCOX. At Berwick in the north, an't like your Grace.
- KING HENRY. Poor soul, God's goodness hath been great to thee.
- Let never day nor night unhallowed pass,
- But still remember what the Lord hath done.
- QUEEN. Tell me, good fellow, cam'st thou here by chance,
- Or of devotion, to this holy shrine?
- SIMPCOX. God knows, of pure devotion; being call'd
- A hundred times and oft'ner, in my sleep,
- By good Saint Alban, who said 'Simpcox, come,
- Come, offer at my shrine, and I will help thee.'
- WIFE. Most true, forsooth; and many time and oft
- Myself have heard a voice to call him so.
- CARDINAL. What, art thou lame?
- SIMPCOX. Ay, God Almighty help me!
- SUFFOLK. How cam'st thou so?
- SIMPCOX. A fall off of a tree.
- WIFE. A plum tree, master.
- GLOUCESTER. How long hast thou been blind?
- SIMPCOX. O, born so, master!
- GLOUCESTER. What, and wouldst climb a tree?
- SIMPCOX. But that in all my life, when I was a youth.
- WIFE. Too true; and bought his climbing very dear.
- GLOUCESTER. Mass, thou lov'dst plums well, that wouldst venture so.
- SIMPCOX. Alas, good master, my wife desir'd some damsons
- And made me climb, With danger of my life.
- GLOUCESTER. A subtle knave! But yet it shall not serve:
- Let me see thine eyes; wink now; now open them;
- In my opinion yet thou seest not well.
- SIMPCOX. Yes, master, clear as day, I thank God and Saint Alban.
- GLOUCESTER. Say'st thou me so? What colour is this cloak of?
- SIMPCOX. Red, master; red as blood.
- GLOUCESTER. Why, that's well said. What colour is my gown of?
- SIMPCOX. Black, forsooth; coal-black as jet.
- KING HENRY. Why, then, thou know'st what colour jet is of?
- SUFFOLK. And yet, I think, jet did he never see.
- GLOUCESTER. But cloaks and gowns before this day a many.
- WIFE. Never before this day in all his life.
- GLOUCESTER. Tell me, sirrah, what's my name?
- SIMPCOX. Alas, master, I know not.
- GLOUCESTER. What's his name?
- SIMPCOX. I know not.
- GLOUCESTER. Nor his?
- SIMPCOX. No, indeed, master.
- GLOUCESTER. What's thine own name?
- SIMPCOX. Saunder Simpcox, an if it please you, master.
- GLOUCESTER. Then, Saunder, sit there, the lying'st knave in
- Christendom. If thou hadst been born blind, thou mightst as well
- have known all our names as thus to name the several colours we
- do wear. Sight may distinguish of colours; but suddenly to
- nominate them all, it is impossible. My lords, Saint Alban here
- hath done a miracle; and would ye not think his cunning to be
- great that could restore this cripple to his legs again?
- SIMPCOX. O master, that you could!
- GLOUCESTER. My masters of Saint Albans, have you not beadles in
- your town, and things call'd whips?
- MAYOR. Yes, my lord, if it please your Grace.
- GLOUCESTER. Then send for one presently.
- MAYOR. Sirrah, go fetch the beadle hither straight.
- Exit an attendant
- GLOUCESTER. Now fetch me a stool hither by and by. [A stool
- brought] Now, sirrah, if you mean to save yourself from whipping,
- leap me over this stool and run away.
- SIMPCOX. Alas, master, I am not able to stand alone!
- You go about to torture me in vain.
-
- Enter a BEADLE with whips
-
- GLOUCESTER. Well, sir, we must have you find your legs.
- Sirrah beadle, whip him till he leap over that same stool.
- BEADLE. I will, my lord. Come on, sirrah; off with your doublet
- quickly.
- SIMPCOX. Alas, master, what shall I do? I am not able to stand.
-
- After the BEADLE hath hit him once, he leaps over
- the stool and runs away; and they follow and cry
- 'A miracle!'
-
- KING HENRY. O God, seest Thou this, and bearest so long?
- QUEEN. It made me laugh to see the villain run.
- GLOUCESTER. Follow the knave, and take this drab away.
- WIFE. Alas, sir, we did it for pure need!
- GLOUCESTER. Let them be whipp'd through every market town till they
- come to Berwick, from whence they came.
- Exeunt MAYOR, BEADLE, WIFE, &c.
- CARDINAL. Duke Humphrey has done a miracle to-day.
- SUFFOLK. True; made the lame to leap and fly away.
- GLOUCESTER. But you have done more miracles than I:
- You made in a day, my lord, whole towns to fly.
-
- Enter BUCKINGHAM
-
- KING HENRY. What tidings with our cousin Buckingham?
- BUCKINGHAM. Such as my heart doth tremble to unfold:
- A sort of naughty persons, lewdly bent,
- Under the countenance and confederacy
- Of Lady Eleanor, the Protector's wife,
- The ringleader and head of all this rout,
- Have practis'd dangerously against your state,
- Dealing with witches and with conjurers,
- Whom we have apprehended in the fact,
- Raising up wicked spirits from under ground,
- Demanding of King Henry's life and death
- And other of your Highness' Privy Council,
- As more at large your Grace shall understand.
- CARDINAL. And so, my Lord Protector, by this means
- Your lady is forthcoming yet at London.
- This news, I think, hath turn'd your weapon's edge;
- 'Tis like, my lord, you will not keep your hour.
- GLOUCESTER. Ambitious churchman, leave to afflict my heart.
- Sorrow and grief have vanquish'd all my powers;
- And, vanquish'd as I am, I yield to the
- Or to the meanest groom.
- KING HENRY. O God, what mischiefs work the wicked ones,
- Heaping confusion on their own heads thereby!
- QUEEN. Gloucester, see here the tainture of thy nest;
- And look thyself be faultless, thou wert best.
- GLOUCESTER. Madam, for myself, to heaven I do appeal
- How I have lov'd my King and commonweal;
- And for my wife I know not how it stands.
- Sorry I am to hear what I have heard.
- Noble she is; but if she have forgot
- Honour and virtue, and convers'd with such
- As, like to pitch, defile nobility,
- I banish her my bed and company
- And give her as a prey to law and shame,
- That hath dishonoured Gloucester's honest name.
- KING HENRY. Well, for this night we will repose us here.
- To-morrow toward London back again
- To look into this business thoroughly
- And call these foul offenders to their answers,
- And poise the cause in justice' equal scales,
- Whose beam stands sure, whose rightful cause prevails.
- Flourish. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-London. The DUKE OF YORK'S garden
-
-Enter YORK, SALISBURY, and WARWICK
-
- YORK. Now, my good Lords of Salisbury and Warwick,
- Our simple supper ended, give me leave
- In this close walk to satisfy myself
- In craving your opinion of my tide,
- Which is infallible, to England's crown.
- SALISBURY. My lord, I long to hear it at full.
- WARWICK. Sweet York, begin; and if thy claim be good,
- The Nevils are thy subjects to command.
- YORK. Then thus:
- Edward the Third, my lords, had seven sons;
- The first, Edward the Black Prince, Prince of Wales;
- The second, William of Hatfield; and the third,
- Lionel Duke of Clarence; next to whom
- Was John of Gaunt, the Duke of Lancaster;
- The fifth was Edmund Langley, Duke of York;
- The sixth was Thomas of Woodstock, Duke of Gloucester;
- William of Windsor was the seventh and last.
- Edward the Black Prince died before his father
- And left behind him Richard, his only son,
- Who, after Edward the Third's death, reign'd as king
- Till Henry Bolingbroke, Duke of Lancaster,
- The eldest son and heir of John of Gaunt,
- Crown'd by the name of Henry the Fourth,
- Seiz'd on the realm, depos'd the rightful king,
- Sent his poor queen to France, from whence she came.
- And him to Pomfret, where, as all you know,
- Harmless Richard was murdered traitorously.
- WARWICK. Father, the Duke hath told the truth;
- Thus got the house of Lancaster the crown.
- YORK. Which now they hold by force, and not by right;
- For Richard, the first son's heir, being dead,
- The issue of the next son should have reign'd.
- SALISBURY. But William of Hatfield died without an heir.
- YORK. The third son, Duke of Clarence, from whose line
- I claim the crown, had issue Philippe, a daughter,
- Who married Edmund Mortimer, Earl of March;
- Edmund had issue, Roger Earl of March;
- Roger had issue, Edmund, Anne, and Eleanor.
- SALISBURY. This Edmund, in the reign of Bolingbroke,
- As I have read, laid claim unto the crown;
- And, but for Owen Glendower, had been king,
- Who kept him in captivity till he died.
- But, to the rest.
- YORK. His eldest sister, Anne,
- My mother, being heir unto the crown,
- Married Richard Earl of Cambridge, who was
- To Edmund Langley, Edward the Third's fifth son, son.
- By her I claim the kingdom: she was heir
- To Roger Earl of March, who was the son
- Of Edmund Mortimer, who married Philippe,
- Sole daughter unto Lionel Duke of Clarence;
- So, if the issue of the elder son
- Succeed before the younger, I am King.
- WARWICK. What plain proceedings is more plain than this?
- Henry doth claim the crown from John of Gaunt,
- The fourth son: York claims it from the third.
- Till Lionel's issue fails, his should not reign.
- It fails not yet, but flourishes in thee
- And in thy sons, fair slips of such a stock.
- Then, father Salisbury, kneel we together,
- And in this private plot be we the first
- That shall salute our rightful sovereign
- With honour of his birthright to the crown.
- BOTH. Long live our sovereign Richard, England's King!
- YORK. We thank you, lords. But I am not your king
- Till I be crown'd, and that my sword be stain'd
- With heart-blood of the house of Lancaster;
- And that's not suddenly to be perform'd,
- But with advice and silent secrecy.
- Do you as I do in these dangerous days:
- Wink at the Duke of Suffolk's insolence,
- At Beaufort's pride, at Somerset's ambition,
- At Buckingham, and all the crew of them,
- Till they have snar'd the shepherd of the flock,
- That virtuous prince, the good Duke Humphrey;
- 'Tis that they seek; and they, in seeking that,
- Shall find their deaths, if York can prophesy.
- SALISBURY. My lord, break we off; we know your mind at full.
- WARWICK. My heart assures me that the Earl of Warwick
- Shall one day make the Duke of York a king.
- YORK. And, Nevil, this I do assure myself,
- Richard shall live to make the Earl of Warwick
- The greatest man in England but the King. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-London. A hall of justice
-
-Sound trumpets. Enter the KING and State: the QUEEN, GLOUCESTER, YORK,
-SUFFOLK, and SALISBURY, with guard, to banish the DUCHESS. Enter, guarded,
-the DUCHESS OF GLOUCESTER, MARGERY JOURDAIN, HUME, SOUTHWELL, and BOLINGBROKE
-
- KING HENRY. Stand forth, Dame Eleanor Cobham, Gloucester's wife:
- In sight of God and us, your guilt is great;
- Receive the sentence of the law for sins
- Such as by God's book are adjudg'd to death.
- You four, from hence to prison back again;
- From thence unto the place of execution:
- The witch in Smithfield shall be burnt to ashes,
- And you three shall be strangled on the gallows.
- You, madam, for you are more nobly born,
- Despoiled of your honour in your life,
- Shall, after three days' open penance done,
- Live in your country here in banishment
- With Sir John Stanley in the Isle of Man.
- DUCHESS. Welcome is banishment; welcome were my death.
- GLOUCESTER. Eleanor, the law, thou seest, hath judged thee.
- I cannot justify whom the law condemns.
- Exeunt the DUCHESS and the other prisoners, guarded
- Mine eyes are full of tears, my heart of grief.
- Ah, Humphrey, this dishonour in thine age
- Will bring thy head with sorrow to the ground!
- I beseech your Majesty give me leave to go;
- Sorrow would solace, and mine age would ease.
- KING HENRY. Stay, Humphrey Duke of Gloucester; ere thou go,
- Give up thy staff; Henry will to himself
- Protector be; and God shall be my hope,
- My stay, my guide, and lantern to my feet.
- And go in peace, Humphrey, no less belov'd
- Than when thou wert Protector to thy King.
- QUEEN. I see no reason why a king of years
- Should be to be protected like a child.
- God and King Henry govern England's realm!
- Give up your staff, sir, and the King his realm.
- GLOUCESTER. My staff! Here, noble Henry, is my staff.
- As willingly do I the same resign
- As ere thy father Henry made it mine;
- And even as willingly at thy feet I leave it
- As others would ambitiously receive it.
- Farewell, good King; when I am dead and gone,
- May honourable peace attend thy throne! Exit
- QUEEN. Why, now is Henry King, and Margaret Queen,
- And Humphrey Duke of Gloucester scarce himself,
- That bears so shrewd a maim: two pulls at once-
- His lady banish'd and a limb lopp'd off.
- This staff of honour raught, there let it stand
- Where it best fits to be, in Henry's hand.
- SUFFOLK. Thus droops this lofty pine and hangs his sprays;
- Thus Eleanor's pride dies in her youngest days.
- YORK. Lords, let him go. Please it your Majesty,
- This is the day appointed for the combat;
- And ready are the appellant and defendant,
- The armourer and his man, to enter the lists,
- So please your Highness to behold the fight.
- QUEEN. Ay, good my lord; for purposely therefore
- Left I the court, to see this quarrel tried.
- KING HENRY. A God's name, see the lists and all things fit;
- Here let them end it, and God defend the right!
- YORK. I never saw a fellow worse bested,
- Or more afraid to fight, than is the appellant,
- The servant of his armourer, my lords.
-
- Enter at one door, HORNER, the Armourer, and his
- NEIGHBOURS, drinking to him so much that he is
- drunk; and he enters with a drum before him and
- his staff with a sand-bag fastened to it; and at the
- other door PETER, his man, with a drum and sandbag,
- and PRENTICES drinking to him
-
- FIRST NEIGHBOUR. Here, neighbour Horner, I drink to you in a cup of
- sack; and fear not, neighbour, you shall do well enough.
- SECOND NEIGHBOUR. And here, neighbour, here's a cup of charneco.
- THIRD NEIGHBOUR. And here's a pot of good double beer, neighbour;
- drink, and fear not your man.
- HORNER. Let it come, i' faith, and I'll pledge you all; and a fig
- for Peter!
- FIRST PRENTICE. Here, Peter, I drink to thee; and be not afraid.
- SECOND PRENTICE. Be merry, Peter, and fear not thy master: fight
- for credit of the prentices.
- PETER. I thank you all. Drink, and pray for me, I pray you; for I
- think I have taken my last draught in this world. Here, Robin, an
- if I die, I give thee my apron; and, Will, thou shalt have my
- hammer; and here, Tom, take all the money that I have. O Lord
- bless me, I pray God! for I am never able to deal with my master,
- he hath learnt so much fence already.
- SALISBURY. Come, leave your drinking and fall to blows.
- Sirrah, what's thy name?
- PETER. Peter, forsooth.
- SALISBURY. Peter? What more?
- PETER. Thump.
- SALISBURY. Thump? Then see thou thump thy master well.
- HORNER. Masters, I am come hither, as it were, upon my man's
- instigation, to prove him a knave and myself an honest man; and
- touching the Duke of York, I will take my death I never meant him
- any ill, nor the King, nor the Queen; and therefore, Peter, have
- at thee with a down right blow!
- YORK. Dispatch- this knave's tongue begins to double.
- Sound, trumpets, alarum to the combatants!
- [Alarum. They fight and PETER strikes him down]
- HORNER. Hold, Peter, hold! I confess, I confess treason.
- [Dies]
- YORK. Take away his weapon. Fellow, thank God, and the good wine in
- thy master's way.
- PETER. O God, have I overcome mine enemies in this presence? O
- Peter, thou hast prevail'd in right!
- KING HENRY. Go, take hence that traitor from our sight,
- For by his death we do perceive his guilt;
- And God in justice hath reveal'd to us
- The truth and innocence of this poor fellow,
- Which he had thought to have murder'd wrongfully.
- Come, fellow, follow us for thy reward.
- Sound a flourish. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE IV.
-London. A street
-
-Enter DUKE HUMPHREY and his men, in mourning cloaks
-
- GLOUCESTER. Thus sometimes hath the brightest day a cloud,
- And after summer evermore succeeds
- Barren winter, with his wrathful nipping cold;
- So cares and joys abound, as seasons fleet.
- Sirs, what's o'clock?
- SERVING-MAN. Ten, my lord.
- GLOUCESTER. Ten is the hour that was appointed me
- To watch the coming of my punish'd duchess.
- Uneath may she endure the flinty streets
- To tread them with her tender-feeling feet.
- Sweet Nell, ill can thy noble mind abrook
- The abject people gazing on thy face,
- With envious looks, laughing at thy shame,
- That erst did follow thy proud chariot wheels
- When thou didst ride in triumph through the streets.
- But, soft! I think she comes, and I'll prepare
- My tear-stain'd eyes to see her miseries.
-
- Enter the DUCHESS OF GLOUCESTER in a white sheet,
- and a taper burning in her hand, with SIR JOHN
- STANLEY, the SHERIFF, and OFFICERS
-
- SERVING-MAN. So please your Grace, we'll take her from the sheriff.
- GLOUCESTER. No, stir not for your lives; let her pass by.
- DUCHESS. Come you, my lord, to see my open shame?
- Now thou dost penance too. Look how they gaze!
- See how the giddy multitude do point
- And nod their heads and throw their eyes on thee;
- Ah, Gloucester, hide thee from their hateful looks,
- And, in thy closet pent up, rue my shame
- And ban thine enemies, both mine and thine!
- GLOUCESTER. Be patient, gentle Nell; forget this grief.
- DUCHESS. Ah, Gloucester, teach me to forget myself!
- For whilst I think I am thy married wife
- And thou a prince, Protector of this land,
- Methinks I should not thus be led along,
- Mail'd up in shame, with papers on my back,
- And follow'd with a rabble that rejoice
- To see my tears and hear my deep-fet groans.
- The ruthless flint doth cut my tender feet,
- And when I start, the envious people laugh
- And bid me be advised how I tread.
- Ah, Humphrey, can I bear this shameful yoke?
- Trowest thou that e'er I'll look upon the world
- Or count them happy that enjoy the sun?
- No; dark shall be my light and night my day;
- To think upon my pomp shall be my hell.
- Sometimes I'll say I am Duke Humphrey's wife,
- And he a prince, and ruler of the land;
- Yet so he rul'd, and such a prince he was,
- As he stood by whilst I, his forlorn duchess,
- Was made a wonder and a pointing-stock
- To every idle rascal follower.
- But be thou mild, and blush not at my shame,
- Nor stir at nothing till the axe of death
- Hang over thee, as sure it shortly will.
- For Suffolk- he that can do all in all
- With her that hateth thee and hates us all-
- And York, and impious Beaufort, that false priest,
- Have all lim'd bushes to betray thy wings,
- And, fly thou how thou canst, they'll tangle thee.
- But fear not thou until thy foot be snar'd,
- Nor never seek prevention of thy foes.
- GLOUCESTER. Ah, Nell, forbear! Thou aimest all awry.
- I must offend before I be attainted;
- And had I twenty times so many foes,
- And each of them had twenty times their power,
- All these could not procure me any scathe
- So long as I am loyal, true, and crimeless.
- Wouldst have me rescue thee from this reproach?
- Why, yet thy scandal were not wip'd away,
- But I in danger for the breach of law.
- Thy greatest help is quiet, gentle Nell.
- I pray thee sort thy heart to patience;
- These few days' wonder will be quickly worn.
-
- Enter a HERALD
-
- HERALD. I summon your Grace to his Majesty's Parliament,
- Holden at Bury the first of this next month.
- GLOUCESTER. And my consent ne'er ask'd herein before!
- This is close dealing. Well, I will be there. Exit HERALD
- My Nell, I take my leave- and, master sheriff,
- Let not her penance exceed the King's commission.
- SHERIFF. An't please your Grace, here my commission stays;
- And Sir John Stanley is appointed now
- To take her with him to the Isle of Man.
- GLOUCESTER. Must you, Sir John, protect my lady here?
- STANLEY. So am I given in charge, may't please your Grace.
- GLOUCESTER. Entreat her not the worse in that I pray
- You use her well; the world may laugh again,
- And I may live to do you kindness if
- You do it her. And so, Sir John, farewell.
- DUCHESS. What, gone, my lord, and bid me not farewell!
- GLOUCESTER. Witness my tears, I cannot stay to speak.
- Exeunt GLOUCESTER and servants
- DUCHESS. Art thou gone too? All comfort go with thee!
- For none abides with me. My joy is death-
- Death, at whose name I oft have been afeard,
- Because I wish'd this world's eternity.
- Stanley, I prithee go, and take me hence;
- I care not whither, for I beg no favour,
- Only convey me where thou art commanded.
- STANLEY. Why, madam, that is to the Isle of Man,
- There to be us'd according to your state.
- DUCHESS. That's bad enough, for I am but reproach-
- And shall I then be us'd reproachfully?
- STANLEY. Like to a duchess and Duke Humphrey's lady;
- According to that state you shall be us'd.
- DUCHESS. Sheriff, farewell, and better than I fare,
- Although thou hast been conduct of my shame.
- SHERIFF. It is my office; and, madam, pardon me.
- DUCHESS. Ay, ay, farewell; thy office is discharg'd.
- Come, Stanley, shall we go?
- STANLEY. Madam, your penance done, throw off this sheet,
- And go we to attire you for our journey.
- DUCHESS. My shame will not be shifted with my sheet.
- No, it will hang upon my richest robes
- And show itself, attire me how I can.
- Go, lead the way; I long to see my prison. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
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-
-ACT III. SCENE I.
-The Abbey at Bury St. Edmunds
-
-Sound a sennet. Enter the KING, the QUEEN, CARDINAL, SUFFOLK, YORK,
-BUCKINGHAM, SALISBURY, and WARWICK, to the Parliament
-
- KING HENRY. I muse my Lord of Gloucester is not come.
- 'Tis not his wont to be the hindmost man,
- Whate'er occasion keeps him from us now.
- QUEEN. Can you not see, or will ye not observe
- The strangeness of his alter'd countenance?
- With what a majesty he bears himself;
- How insolent of late he is become,
- How proud, how peremptory, and unlike himself?
- We know the time since he was mild and affable,
- And if we did but glance a far-off look
- Immediately he was upon his knee,
- That all the court admir'd him for submission.
- But meet him now and be it in the morn,
- When every one will give the time of day,
- He knits his brow and shows an angry eye
- And passeth by with stiff unbowed knee,
- Disdaining duty that to us belongs.
- Small curs are not regarded when they grin,
- But great men tremble when the lion roars,
- And Humphrey is no little man in England.
- First note that he is near you in descent,
- And should you fall he is the next will mount;
- Me seemeth, then, it is no policy-
- Respecting what a rancorous mind he bears,
- And his advantage following your decease-
- That he should come about your royal person
- Or be admitted to your Highness' Council.
- By flattery hath he won the commons' hearts;
- And when he please to make commotion,
- 'Tis to be fear'd they all will follow him.
- Now 'tis the spring, and weeds are shallow-rooted;
- Suffer them now, and they'll o'ergrow the garden
- And choke the herbs for want of husbandry.
- The reverent care I bear unto my lord
- Made me collect these dangers in the Duke.
- If it be fond, can it a woman's fear;
- Which fear if better reasons can supplant,
- I will subscribe, and say I wrong'd the Duke.
- My Lord of Suffolk, Buckingham, and York,
- Reprove my allegation if you can,
- Or else conclude my words effectual.
- SUFFOLK. Well hath your Highness seen into this duke;
- And had I first been put to speak my mind,
- I think I should have told your Grace's tale.
- The Duchess, by his subornation,
- Upon my life, began her devilish practices;
- Or if he were not privy to those faults,
- Yet by reputing of his high descent-
- As next the King he was successive heir-
- And such high vaunts of his nobility,
- Did instigate the bedlam brainsick Duchess
- By wicked means to frame our sovereign's fall.
- Smooth runs the water where the brook is deep,
- And in his simple show he harbours treason.
- The fox barks not when he would steal the lamb.
- No, no, my sovereign, Gloucester is a man
- Unsounded yet, and full of deep deceit.
- CARDINAL. Did he not, contrary to form of law,
- Devise strange deaths for small offences done?
- YORK. And did he not, in his protectorship,
- Levy great sums of money through the realm
- For soldiers' pay in France, and never sent it?
- By means whereof the towns each day revolted.
- BUCKINGHAM. Tut, these are petty faults to faults unknown
- Which time will bring to light in smooth Duke Humphrey.
- KING HENRY. My lords, at once: the care you have of us,
- To mow down thorns that would annoy our foot,
- Is worthy praise; but shall I speak my conscience?
- Our kinsman Gloucester is as innocent
- From meaning treason to our royal person
- As is the sucking lamb or harmless dove:
- The Duke is virtuous, mild, and too well given
- To dream on evil or to work my downfall.
- QUEEN. Ah, what's more dangerous than this fond affiance?
- Seems he a dove? His feathers are but borrow'd,
- For he's disposed as the hateful raven.
- Is he a lamb? His skin is surely lent him,
- For he's inclin'd as is the ravenous wolf.
- Who cannot steal a shape that means deceit?
- Take heed, my lord; the welfare of us all
- Hangs on the cutting short that fraudful man.
-
- Enter SOMERSET
-
- SOMERSET. All health unto my gracious sovereign!
- KING HENRY. Welcome, Lord Somerset. What news from France?
- SOMERSET. That all your interest in those territories
- Is utterly bereft you; all is lost.
- KING HENRY. Cold news, Lord Somerset; but God's will be done!
- YORK. [Aside] Cold news for me; for I had hope of France
- As firmly as I hope for fertile England.
- Thus are my blossoms blasted in the bud,
- And caterpillars eat my leaves away;
- But I will remedy this gear ere long,
- Or sell my title for a glorious grave.
-
- Enter GLOUCESTER
-
- GLOUCESTER. All happiness unto my lord the King!
- Pardon, my liege, that I have stay'd so long.
- SUFFOLK. Nay, Gloucester, know that thou art come too soon,
- Unless thou wert more loyal than thou art.
- I do arrest thee of high treason here.
- GLOUCESTER. Well, Suffolk, thou shalt not see me blush
- Nor change my countenance for this arrest:
- A heart unspotted is not easily daunted.
- The purest spring is not so free from mud
- As I am clear from treason to my sovereign.
- Who can accuse me? Wherein am I guilty?
- YORK. 'Tis thought, my lord, that you took bribes of France
- And, being Protector, stay'd the soldiers' pay;
- By means whereof his Highness hath lost France.
- GLOUCESTER. Is it but thought so? What are they that think it?
- I never robb'd the soldiers of their pay
- Nor ever had one penny bribe from France.
- So help me God, as I have watch'd the night-
- Ay, night by night- in studying good for England!
- That doit that e'er I wrested from the King,
- Or any groat I hoarded to my use,
- Be brought against me at my trial-day!
- No; many a pound of mine own proper store,
- Because I would not tax the needy commons,
- Have I dispursed to the garrisons,
- And never ask'd for restitution.
- CARDINAL. It serves you well, my lord, to say so much.
- GLOUCESTER. I say no more than truth, so help me God!
- YORK. In your protectorship you did devise
- Strange tortures for offenders, never heard of,
- That England was defam'd by tyranny.
- GLOUCESTER. Why, 'tis well known that whiles I was Protector
- Pity was all the fault that was in me;
- For I should melt at an offender's tears,
- And lowly words were ransom for their fault.
- Unless it were a bloody murderer,
- Or foul felonious thief that fleec'd poor passengers,
- I never gave them condign punishment.
- Murder indeed, that bloody sin, I tortur'd
- Above the felon or what trespass else.
- SUFFOLK. My lord, these faults are easy, quickly answer'd;
- But mightier crimes are laid unto your charge,
- Whereof you cannot easily purge yourself.
- I do arrest you in His Highness' name,
- And here commit you to my Lord Cardinal
- To keep until your further time of trial.
- KING HENRY. My Lord of Gloucester, 'tis my special hope
- That you will clear yourself from all suspense.
- My conscience tells me you are innocent.
- GLOUCESTER. Ah, gracious lord, these days are dangerous!
- Virtue is chok'd with foul ambition,
- And charity chas'd hence by rancour's hand;
- Foul subornation is predominant,
- And equity exil'd your Highness' land.
- I know their complot is to have my life;
- And if my death might make this island happy
- And prove the period of their tyranny,
- I would expend it with all willingness.
- But mine is made the prologue to their play;
- For thousands more that yet suspect no peril
- Will not conclude their plotted tragedy.
- Beaufort's red sparkling eyes blab his heart's malice,
- And Suffolk's cloudy brow his stormy hate;
- Sharp Buckingham unburdens with his tongue
- The envious load that lies upon his heart;
- And dogged York, that reaches at the moon,
- Whose overweening arm I have pluck'd back,
- By false accuse doth level at my life.
- And you, my sovereign lady, with the rest,
- Causeless have laid disgraces on my head,
- And with your best endeavour have stirr'd up
- My liefest liege to be mine enemy;
- Ay, all of you have laid your heads together-
- Myself had notice of your conventicles-
- And all to make away my guiltless life.
- I shall not want false witness to condemn me
- Nor store of treasons to augment my guilt.
- The ancient proverb will be well effected:
- 'A staff is quickly found to beat a dog.'
- CARDINAL. My liege, his railing is intolerable.
- If those that care to keep your royal person
- From treason's secret knife and traitor's rage
- Be thus upbraided, chid, and rated at,
- And the offender granted scope of speech,
- 'Twill make them cool in zeal unto your Grace.
- SUFFOLK. Hath he not twit our sovereign lady here
- With ignominious words, though clerkly couch'd,
- As if she had suborned some to swear
- False allegations to o'erthrow his state?
- QUEEN. But I can give the loser leave to chide.
- GLOUCESTER. Far truer spoke than meant: I lose indeed.
- Beshrew the winners, for they play'd me false!
- And well such losers may have leave to speak.
- BUCKINGHAM. He'll wrest the sense, and hold us here all day.
- Lord Cardinal, he is your prisoner.
- CARDINAL. Sirs, take away the Duke, and guard him sure.
- GLOUCESTER. Ah, thus King Henry throws away his crutch
- Before his legs be firm to bear his body!
- Thus is the shepherd beaten from thy side,
- And wolves are gnarling who shall gnaw thee first.
- Ah, that my fear were false! ah, that it were!
- For, good King Henry, thy decay I fear. Exit, guarded
- KING HENRY. My lords, what to your wisdoms seemeth best
- Do or undo, as if ourself were here.
- QUEEN. What, will your Highness leave the Parliament?
- KING HENRY. Ay, Margaret; my heart is drown'd with grief,
- Whose flood begins to flow within mine eyes;
- My body round engirt with misery-
- For what's more miserable than discontent?
- Ah, uncle Humphrey, in thy face I see
- The map of honour, truth, and loyalty!
- And yet, good Humphrey, is the hour to come
- That e'er I prov'd thee false or fear'd thy faith.
- What louring star now envies thy estate
- That these great lords, and Margaret our Queen,
- Do seek subversion of thy harmless life?
- Thou never didst them wrong, nor no man wrong;
- And as the butcher takes away the calf,
- And binds the wretch, and beats it when it strays,
- Bearing it to the bloody slaughter-house,
- Even so, remorseless, have they borne him hence;
- And as the dam runs lowing up and down,
- Looking the way her harmless young one went,
- And can do nought but wail her darling's loss,
- Even so myself bewails good Gloucester's case
- With sad unhelpful tears, and with dimm'd eyes
- Look after him, and cannot do him good,
- So mighty are his vowed enemies.
- His fortunes I will weep, and 'twixt each groan
- Say 'Who's a traitor? Gloucester he is none.' Exit
- QUEEN. Free lords, cold snow melts with the sun's hot beams:
- Henry my lord is cold in great affairs,
- Too full of foolish pity; and Gloucester's show
- Beguiles him as the mournful crocodile
- With sorrow snares relenting passengers;
- Or as the snake, roll'd in a flow'ring bank,
- With shining checker'd slough, doth sting a child
- That for the beauty thinks it excellent.
- Believe me, lords, were none more wise than I-
- And yet herein I judge mine own wit good-
- This Gloucester should be quickly rid the world
- To rid us from the fear we have of him.
- CARDINAL. That he should die is worthy policy;
- But yet we want a colour for his death.
- 'Tis meet he be condemn'd by course of law.
- SUFFOLK. But, in my mind, that were no policy:
- The King will labour still to save his life;
- The commons haply rise to save his life;
- And yet we have but trivial argument,
- More than mistrust, that shows him worthy death.
- YORK. So that, by this, you would not have him die.
- SUFFOLK. Ah, York, no man alive so fain as I!
- YORK. 'Tis York that hath more reason for his death.
- But, my Lord Cardinal, and you, my Lord of Suffolk,
- Say as you think, and speak it from your souls:
- Were't not all one an empty eagle were set
- To guard the chicken from a hungry kite
- As place Duke Humphrey for the King's Protector?
- QUEEN. So the poor chicken should be sure of death.
- SUFFOLK. Madam, 'tis true; and were't not madness then
- To make the fox surveyor of the fold?
- Who being accus'd a crafty murderer,
- His guilt should be but idly posted over,
- Because his purpose is not executed.
- No; let him die, in that he is a fox,
- By nature prov'd an enemy to the flock,
- Before his chaps be stain'd with crimson blood,
- As Humphrey, prov'd by reasons, to my liege.
- And do not stand on quillets how to slay him;
- Be it by gins, by snares, by subtlety,
- Sleeping or waking, 'tis no matter how,
- So he be dead; for that is good deceit
- Which mates him first that first intends deceit.
- QUEEN. Thrice-noble Suffolk, 'tis resolutely spoke.
- SUFFOLK. Not resolute, except so much were done,
- For things are often spoke and seldom meant;
- But that my heart accordeth with my tongue,
- Seeing the deed is meritorious,
- And to preserve my sovereign from his foe,
- Say but the word, and I will be his priest.
- CARDINAL. But I would have him dead, my Lord of Suffolk,
- Ere you can take due orders for a priest;
- Say you consent and censure well the deed,
- And I'll provide his executioner-
- I tender so the safety of my liege.
- SUFFOLK. Here is my hand the deed is worthy doing.
- QUEEN. And so say I.
- YORK. And I. And now we three have spoke it,
- It skills not greatly who impugns our doom.
-
- Enter a POST
-
- POST. Great lords, from Ireland am I come amain
- To signify that rebels there are up
- And put the Englishmen unto the sword.
- Send succours, lords, and stop the rage betime,
- Before the wound do grow uncurable;
- For, being green, there is great hope of help.
- CARDINAL. A breach that craves a quick expedient stop!
- What counsel give you in this weighty cause?
- YORK. That Somerset be sent as Regent thither;
- 'Tis meet that lucky ruler be employ'd,
- Witness the fortune he hath had in France.
- SOMERSET. If York, with all his far-fet policy,
- Had been the Regent there instead of me,
- He never would have stay'd in France so long.
- YORK. No, not to lose it all as thou hast done.
- I rather would have lost my life betimes
- Than bring a burden of dishonour home
- By staying there so long till all were lost.
- Show me one scar character'd on thy skin:
- Men's flesh preserv'd so whole do seldom win.
- QUEEN. Nay then, this spark will prove a raging fire,
- If wind and fuel be brought to feed it with;
- No more, good York; sweet Somerset, be still.
- Thy fortune, York, hadst thou been Regent there,
- Might happily have prov'd far worse than his.
- YORK. What, worse than nought? Nay, then a shame take all!
- SOMERSET. And in the number, thee that wishest shame!
- CARDINAL. My Lord of York, try what your fortune is.
- Th' uncivil kerns of Ireland are in arms
- And temper clay with blood of Englishmen;
- To Ireland will you lead a band of men,
- Collected choicely, from each county some,
- And try your hap against the Irishmen?
- YORK. I will, my lord, so please his Majesty.
- SUFFOLK. Why, our authority is his consent,
- And what we do establish he confirms;
- Then, noble York, take thou this task in hand.
- YORK. I am content; provide me soldiers, lords,
- Whiles I take order for mine own affairs.
- SUFFOLK. A charge, Lord York, that I will see perform'd.
- But now return we to the false Duke Humphrey.
- CARDINAL. No more of him; for I will deal with him
- That henceforth he shall trouble us no more.
- And so break off; the day is almost spent.
- Lord Suffolk, you and I must talk of that event.
- YORK. My Lord of Suffolk, within fourteen days
- At Bristol I expect my soldiers;
- For there I'll ship them all for Ireland.
- SUFFOLK. I'll see it truly done, my Lord of York.
- Exeunt all but YORK
- YORK. Now, York, or never, steel thy fearful thoughts
- And change misdoubt to resolution;
- Be that thou hop'st to be; or what thou art
- Resign to death- it is not worth th' enjoying.
- Let pale-fac'd fear keep with the mean-born man
- And find no harbour in a royal heart.
- Faster than spring-time show'rs comes thought on thought,
- And not a thought but thinks on dignity.
- My brain, more busy than the labouring spider,
- Weaves tedious snares to trap mine enemies.
- Well, nobles, well, 'tis politicly done
- To send me packing with an host of men.
- I fear me you but warm the starved snake,
- Who, cherish'd in your breasts, will sting your hearts.
- 'Twas men I lack'd, and you will give them me;
- I take it kindly. Yet be well assur'd
- You put sharp weapons in a madman's hands.
- Whiles I in Ireland nourish a mighty band,
- I will stir up in England some black storm
- Shall blow ten thousand souls to heaven or hell;
- And this fell tempest shall not cease to rage
- Until the golden circuit on my head,
- Like to the glorious sun's transparent beams,
- Do calm the fury of this mad-bred flaw.
- And for a minister of my intent
- I have seduc'd a headstrong Kentishman,
- John Cade of Ashford,
- To make commotion, as full well he can,
- Under the tide of John Mortimer.
- In Ireland have I seen this stubborn Cade
- Oppose himself against a troop of kerns,
- And fought so long tiff that his thighs with darts
- Were almost like a sharp-quill'd porpentine;
- And in the end being rescu'd, I have seen
- Him caper upright like a wild Morisco,
- Shaking the bloody darts as he his bells.
- Full often, like a shag-hair'd crafty kern,
- Hath he conversed with the enemy,
- And undiscover'd come to me again
- And given me notice of their villainies.
- This devil here shall be my substitute;
- For that John Mortimer, which now is dead,
- In face, in gait, in speech, he doth resemble.
- By this I shall perceive the commons' mind,
- How they affect the house and claim of York.
- Say he be taken, rack'd, and tortured;
- I know no pain they can inflict upon him
- Will make him say I mov'd him to those arms.
- Say that he thrive, as 'tis great like he will,
- Why, then from Ireland come I with my strength,
- And reap the harvest which that rascal sow'd;
- For Humphrey being dead, as he shall be,
- And Henry put apart, the next for me. Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-Bury St. Edmunds. A room of state
-
-Enter two or three MURDERERS running over the stage,
-from the murder of DUKE HUMPHREY
-
- FIRST MURDERER. Run to my Lord of Suffolk; let him know
- We have dispatch'd the Duke, as he commanded.
- SECOND MURDERER. O that it were to do! What have we done?
- Didst ever hear a man so penitent?
-
- Enter SUFFOLK
-
- FIRST MURDERER. Here comes my lord.
- SUFFOLK. Now, sirs, have you dispatch'd this thing?
- FIRST MURDERER. Ay, my good lord, he's dead.
- SUFFOLK. Why, that's well said. Go, get you to my house;
- I will reward you for this venturous deed.
- The King and all the peers are here at hand.
- Have you laid fair the bed? Is all things well,
- According as I gave directions?
- FIRST MURDERER. 'Tis, my good lord.
- SUFFOLK. Away! be gone. Exeunt MURDERERS
-
- Sound trumpets. Enter the KING, the QUEEN,
- CARDINAL, SOMERSET, with attendants
-
- KING HENRY. Go call our uncle to our presence straight;
- Say we intend to try his Grace to-day,
- If he be guilty, as 'tis published.
- SUFFOLK. I'll call him presently, my noble lord. Exit
- KING HENRY. Lords, take your places; and, I pray you all,
- Proceed no straiter 'gainst our uncle Gloucester
- Than from true evidence, of good esteem,
- He be approv'd in practice culpable.
- QUEEN. God forbid any malice should prevail
- That faultless may condemn a nobleman!
- Pray God he may acquit him of suspicion!
- KING HENRY. I thank thee, Meg; these words content me much.
-
- Re-enter SUFFOLK
-
- How now! Why look'st thou pale? Why tremblest thou?
- Where is our uncle? What's the matter, Suffolk?
- SUFFOLK. Dead in his bed, my lord; Gloucester is dead.
- QUEEN. Marry, God forfend!
- CARDINAL. God's secret judgment! I did dream to-night
- The Duke was dumb and could not speak a word.
- [The KING swoons]
- QUEEN. How fares my lord? Help, lords! The King is dead.
- SOMERSET. Rear up his body; wring him by the nose.
- QUEEN. Run, go, help, help! O Henry, ope thine eyes!
- SUFFOLK. He doth revive again; madam, be patient.
- KING. O heavenly God!
- QUEEN. How fares my gracious lord?
- SUFFOLK. Comfort, my sovereign! Gracious Henry, comfort!
- KING HENRY. What, doth my Lord of Suffolk comfort me?
- Came he right now to sing a raven's note,
- Whose dismal tune bereft my vital pow'rs;
- And thinks he that the chirping of a wren,
- By crying comfort from a hollow breast,
- Can chase away the first conceived sound?
- Hide not thy poison with such sug'red words;
- Lay not thy hands on me; forbear, I say,
- Their touch affrights me as a serpent's sting.
- Thou baleful messenger, out of my sight!
- Upon thy eye-balls murderous tyranny
- Sits in grim majesty to fright the world.
- Look not upon me, for thine eyes are wounding;
- Yet do not go away; come, basilisk,
- And kill the innocent gazer with thy sight;
- For in the shade of death I shall find joy-
- In life but double death,'now Gloucester's dead.
- QUEEN. Why do you rate my Lord of Suffolk thus?
- Although the Duke was enemy to him,
- Yet he most Christian-like laments his death;
- And for myself- foe as he was to me-
- Might liquid tears, or heart-offending groans,
- Or blood-consuming sighs, recall his life,
- I would be blind with weeping, sick with groans,
- Look pale as primrose with blood-drinking sighs,
- And all to have the noble Duke alive.
- What know I how the world may deem of me?
- For it is known we were but hollow friends:
- It may be judg'd I made the Duke away;
- So shall my name with slander's tongue be wounded,
- And princes' courts be fill'd with my reproach.
- This get I by his death. Ay me, unhappy!
- To be a queen and crown'd with infamy!
- KING HENRY. Ah, woe is me for Gloucester, wretched man!
- QUEEN. Be woe for me, more wretched than he is.
- What, dost thou turn away, and hide thy face?
- I am no loathsome leper- look on me.
- What, art thou like the adder waxen deaf?
- Be poisonous too, and kill thy forlorn Queen.
- Is all thy comfort shut in Gloucester's tomb?
- Why, then Dame Margaret was ne'er thy joy.
- Erect his statue and worship it,
- And make my image but an alehouse sign.
- Was I for this nigh wreck'd upon the sea,
- And twice by awkward wind from England's bank
- Drove back again unto my native clime?
- What boded this but well-forewarning wind
- Did seem to say 'Seek not a scorpion's nest,
- Nor set no footing on this unkind shore'?
- What did I then but curs'd the gentle gusts,
- And he that loos'd them forth their brazen caves;
- And bid them blow towards England's blessed shore,
- Or turn our stern upon a dreadful rock?
- Yet Aeolus would not be a murderer,
- But left that hateful office unto thee.
- The pretty-vaulting sea refus'd to drown me,
- Knowing that thou wouldst have me drown'd on shore
- With tears as salt as sea through thy unkindness;
- The splitting rocks cow'r'd in the sinking sands
- And would not dash me with their ragged sides,
- Because thy flinty heart, more hard than they,
- Might in thy palace perish Margaret.
- As far as I could ken thy chalky cliffs,
- When from thy shore the tempest beat us back,
- I stood upon the hatches in the storm;
- And when the dusky sky began to rob
- My earnest-gaping sight of thy land's view,
- I took a costly jewel from my neck-
- A heart it was, bound in with diamonds-
- And threw it towards thy land. The sea receiv'd it;
- And so I wish'd thy body might my heart.
- And even with this I lost fair England's view,
- And bid mine eyes be packing with my heart,
- And call'd them blind and dusky spectacles
- For losing ken of Albion's wished coast.
- How often have I tempted Suffolk's tongue-
- The agent of thy foul inconstancy-
- To sit and witch me, as Ascanius did
- When he to madding Dido would unfold
- His father's acts commenc'd in burning Troy!
- Am I not witch'd like her? Or thou not false like him?
- Ay me, I can no more! Die, Margaret,
- For Henry weeps that thou dost live so long.
-
- Noise within. Enter WARWICK, SALISBURY,
- and many commons
-
- WARWICK. It is reported, mighty sovereign,
- That good Duke Humphrey traitorously is murd'red
- By Suffolk and the Cardinal Beaufort's means.
- The commons, like an angry hive of bees
- That want their leader, scatter up and down
- And care not who they sting in his revenge.
- Myself have calm'd their spleenful mutiny
- Until they hear the order of his death.
- KING HENRY. That he is dead, good Warwick, 'tis too true;
- But how he died God knows, not Henry.
- Enter his chamber, view his breathless corpse,
- And comment then upon his sudden death.
- WARWICK. That shall I do, my liege. Stay, Salisbury,
- With the rude multitude till I return. Exit
- Exit SALISBURY with the commons
- KING HENRY. O Thou that judgest all things, stay my thoughts-
- My thoughts that labour to persuade my soul
- Some violent hands were laid on Humphrey's life!
- If my suspect be false, forgive me, God;
- For judgment only doth belong to Thee.
- Fain would I go to chafe his paly lips
- With twenty thousand kisses and to drain
- Upon his face an ocean of salt tears
- To tell my love unto his dumb deaf trunk;
- And with my fingers feel his hand un-feeling;
- But all in vain are these mean obsequies;
- And to survey his dead and earthy image,
- What were it but to make my sorrow greater?
-
- Bed put forth with the body. Enter WARWICK
-
- WARWICK. Come hither, gracious sovereign, view this body.
- KING HENRY. That is to see how deep my grave is made;
- For with his soul fled all my worldly solace,
- For, seeing him, I see my life in death.
- WARWICK. As surely as my soul intends to live
- With that dread King that took our state upon Him
- To free us from his Father's wrathful curse,
- I do believe that violent hands were laid
- Upon the life of this thrice-famed Duke.
- SUFFOLK. A dreadful oath, sworn with a solemn tongue!
- What instance gives Lord Warwick for his vow?
- WARWICK. See how the blood is settled in his face.
- Oft have I seen a timely-parted ghost,
- Of ashy semblance, meagre, pale, and bloodless,
- Being all descended to the labouring heart,
- Who, in the conflict that it holds with death,
- Attracts the same for aidance 'gainst the enemy,
- Which with the heart there cools, and ne'er returneth
- To blush and beautify the cheek again.
- But see, his face is black and full of blood;
- His eye-balls further out than when he liv'd,
- Staring full ghastly like a strangled man;
- His hair uprear'd, his nostrils stretch'd with struggling;
- His hands abroad display'd, as one that grasp'd
- And tugg'd for life, and was by strength subdu'd.
- Look, on the sheets his hair, you see, is sticking;
- His well-proportion'd beard made rough and rugged,
- Like to the summer's corn by tempest lodged.
- It cannot be but he was murd'red here:
- The least of all these signs were probable.
- SUFFOLK. Why, Warwick, who should do the Duke to death?
- Myself and Beaufort had him in protection;
- And we, I hope, sir, are no murderers.
- WARWICK. But both of you were vow'd Duke Humphrey's foes;
- And you, forsooth, had the good Duke to keep.
- 'Tis like you would not feast him like a friend;
- And 'tis well seen he found an enemy.
- QUEEN. Then you, belike, suspect these noblemen
- As guilty of Duke Humphrey's timeless death.
- WARWICK. Who finds the heifer dead and bleeding fresh,
- And sees fast by a butcher with an axe,
- But will suspect 'twas he that made the slaughter?
- Who finds the partridge in the puttock's nest
- But may imagine how the bird was dead,
- Although the kite soar with unbloodied beak?
- Even so suspicious is this tragedy.
- QUEEN. Are you the butcher, Suffolk? Where's your knife?
- Is Beaufort term'd a kite? Where are his talons?
- SUFFOLK. I wear no knife to slaughter sleeping men;
- But here's a vengeful sword, rusted with ease,
- That shall be scoured in his rancorous heart
- That slanders me with murder's crimson badge.
- Say if thou dar'st, proud Lord of Warwickshire,
- That I am faulty in Duke Humphrey's death.
- Exeunt CARDINAL, SOMERSET, and others
- WARWICK. What dares not Warwick, if false Suffolk dare him?
- QUEEN. He dares not calm his contumelious spirit,
- Nor cease to be an arrogant controller,
- Though Suffolk dare him twenty thousand times.
- WARWICK. Madam, be still- with reverence may I say;
- For every word you speak in his behalf
- Is slander to your royal dignity.
- SUFFOLK. Blunt-witted lord, ignoble in demeanour,
- If ever lady wrong'd her lord so much,
- Thy mother took into her blameful bed
- Some stern untutor'd churl, and noble stock
- Was graft with crab-tree slip, whose fruit thou art,
- And never of the Nevils' noble race.
- WARWICK. But that the guilt of murder bucklers thee,
- And I should rob the deathsman of his fee,
- Quitting thee thereby of ten thousand shames,
- And that my sovereign's presence makes me mild,
- I would, false murd'rous coward, on thy knee
- Make thee beg pardon for thy passed speech
- And say it was thy mother that thou meant'st,
- That thou thyself was born in bastardy;
- And, after all this fearful homage done,
- Give thee thy hire and send thy soul to hell,
- Pernicious blood-sucker of sleeping men.
- SUFFOLK. Thou shalt be waking while I shed thy blood,
- If from this presence thou dar'st go with me.
- WARWICK. Away even now, or I will drag thee hence.
- Unworthy though thou art, I'll cope with thee,
- And do some service to Duke Humphrey's ghost.
- Exeunt SUFFOLK and WARWICK
- KING HENRY. What stronger breastplate than a heart untainted?
- Thrice is he arm'd that hath his quarrel just;
- And he but naked, though lock'd up in steel,
- Whose conscience with injustice is corrupted.
- [A noise within]
- QUEEN. What noise is this?
-
- Re-enter SUFFOLK and WARWICK, with their weapons drawn
-
- KING. Why, how now, lords, your wrathful weapons drawn
- Here in our presence! Dare you be so bold?
- Why, what tumultuous clamour have we here?
- SUFFOLK. The trait'rous Warwick, with the men of Bury,
- Set all upon me, mighty sovereign.
-
- Re-enter SALISBURY
-
- SALISBURY. [To the Commons within] Sirs, stand apart, the King
- shall know your mind.
- Dread lord, the commons send you word by me
- Unless Lord Suffolk straight be done to death,
- Or banished fair England's territories,
- They will by violence tear him from your palace
- And torture him with grievous ling'ring death.
- They say by him the good Duke Humphrey died;
- They say in him they fear your Highness' death;
- And mere instinct of love and loyalty,
- Free from a stubborn opposite intent,
- As being thought to contradict your liking,
- Makes them thus forward in his banishment.
- They say, in care of your most royal person,
- That if your Highness should intend to sleep
- And charge that no man should disturb your rest,
- In pain of your dislike or pain of death,
- Yet, notwithstanding such a strait edict,
- Were there a serpent seen with forked tongue
- That slily glided towards your Majesty,
- It were but necessary you were wak'd,
- Lest, being suffer'd in that harmful slumber,
- The mortal worm might make the sleep eternal.
- And therefore do they cry, though you forbid,
- That they will guard you, whe'er you will or no,
- From such fell serpents as false Suffolk is;
- With whose envenomed and fatal sting
- Your loving uncle, twenty times his worth,
- They say, is shamefully bereft of life.
- COMMONS. [Within] An answer from the King, my Lord of Salisbury!
- SUFFOLK. 'Tis like the commons, rude unpolish'd hinds,
- Could send such message to their sovereign;
- But you, my lord, were glad to be employ'd,
- To show how quaint an orator you are.
- But all the honour Salisbury hath won
- Is that he was the lord ambassador
- Sent from a sort of tinkers to the King.
- COMMONS. [Within] An answer from the King, or we will all break in!
- KING HENRY. Go, Salisbury, and tell them all from me
- I thank them for their tender loving care;
- And had I not been cited so by them,
- Yet did I purpose as they do entreat;
- For sure my thoughts do hourly prophesy
- Mischance unto my state by Suffolk's means.
- And therefore by His Majesty I swear,
- Whose far unworthy deputy I am,
- He shall not breathe infection in this air
- But three days longer, on the pain of death.
- Exit SALISBURY
- QUEEN. O Henry, let me plead for gentle Suffolk!
- KING HENRY. Ungentle Queen, to call him gentle Suffolk!
- No more, I say; if thou dost plead for him,
- Thou wilt but add increase unto my wrath.
- Had I but said, I would have kept my word;
- But when I swear, it is irrevocable.
- If after three days' space thou here be'st found
- On any ground that I am ruler of,
- The world shall not be ransom for thy life.
- Come, Warwick, come, good Warwick, go with me;
- I have great matters to impart to thee.
- Exeunt all but QUEEN and SUFFOLK
- QUEEN. Mischance and sorrow go along with you!
- Heart's discontent and sour affliction
- Be playfellows to keep you company!
- There's two of you; the devil make a third,
- And threefold vengeance tend upon your steps!
- SUFFOLK. Cease, gentle Queen, these execrations,
- And let thy Suffolk take his heavy leave.
- QUEEN. Fie, coward woman and soft-hearted wretch,
- Has thou not spirit to curse thine enemy?
- SUFFOLK. A plague upon them! Wherefore should I curse them?
- Would curses kill as doth the mandrake's groan,
- I would invent as bitter searching terms,
- As curst, as harsh, and horrible to hear,
- Deliver'd strongly through my fixed teeth,
- With full as many signs of deadly hate,
- As lean-fac'd Envy in her loathsome cave.
- My tongue should stumble in mine earnest words,
- Mine eyes should sparkle like the beaten flint,
- Mine hair be fix'd an end, as one distract;
- Ay, every joint should seem to curse and ban;
- And even now my burden'd heart would break,
- Should I not curse them. Poison be their drink!
- Gall, worse than gall, the daintiest that they taste!
- Their sweetest shade a grove of cypress trees!
- Their chiefest prospect murd'ring basilisks!
- Their softest touch as smart as lizards' stings!
- Their music frightful as the serpent's hiss,
- And boding screech-owls make the consort full!
- all the foul terrors in dark-seated hell-
- QUEEN. Enough, sweet Suffolk, thou torment'st thyself;
- And these dread curses, like the sun 'gainst glass,
- Or like an overcharged gun, recoil,
- And turns the force of them upon thyself.
- SUFFOLK. You bade me ban, and will you bid me leave?
- Now, by the ground that I am banish'd from,
- Well could I curse away a winter's night,
- Though standing naked on a mountain top
- Where biting cold would never let grass grow,
- And think it but a minute spent in sport.
- QUEEN. O, let me entreat thee cease! Give me thy hand,
- That I may dew it with my mournful tears;
- Nor let the rain of heaven wet this place
- To wash away my woeful monuments.
- O, could this kiss be printed in thy hand,
- That thou might'st think upon these by the seal,
- Through whom a thousand sighs are breath'd for thee!
- So, get thee gone, that I may know my grief;
- 'Tis but surmis'd whiles thou art standing by,
- As one that surfeits thinking on a want.
- I will repeal thee or, be well assur'd,
- Adventure to be banished myself;
- And banished I am, if but from thee.
- Go, speak not to me; even now be gone.
- O, go not yet! Even thus two friends condemn'd
- Embrace, and kiss, and take ten thousand leaves,
- Loather a hundred times to part than die.
- Yet now, farewell; and farewell life with thee!
- SUFFOLK. Thus is poor Suffolk ten times banished,
- Once by the King and three times thrice by thee,
- 'Tis not the land I care for, wert thou thence;
- A wilderness is populous enough,
- So Suffolk had thy heavenly company;
- For where thou art, there is the world itself,
- With every several pleasure in the world;
- And where thou art not, desolation.
- I can no more: Live thou to joy thy life;
- Myself no joy in nought but that thou liv'st.
-
- Enter VAUX
-
- QUEEN. Whither goes Vaux so fast? What news, I prithee?
- VAUX. To signify unto his Majesty
- That Cardinal Beaufort is at point of death;
- For suddenly a grievous sickness took him
- That makes him gasp, and stare, and catch the air,
- Blaspheming God, and cursing men on earth.
- Sometime he talks as if Duke Humphrey's ghost
- Were by his side; sometime he calls the King
- And whispers to his pillow, as to him,
- The secrets of his overcharged soul;
- And I am sent to tell his Majesty
- That even now he cries aloud for him.
- QUEEN. Go tell this heavy message to the King. Exit VAUX
- Ay me! What is this world! What news are these!
- But wherefore grieve I at an hour's poor loss,
- Omitting Suffolk's exile, my soul's treasure?
- Why only, Suffolk, mourn I not for thee,
- And with the southern clouds contend in tears-
- Theirs for the earth's increase, mine for my sorrows?
- Now get thee hence: the King, thou know'st, is coming;
- If thou be found by me; thou art but dead.
- SUFFOLK. If I depart from thee I cannot live;
- And in thy sight to die, what were it else
- But like a pleasant slumber in thy lap?
- Here could I breathe my soul into the air,
- As mild and gentle as the cradle-babe
- Dying with mother's dug between its lips;
- Where, from thy sight, I should be raging mad
- And cry out for thee to close up mine eyes,
- To have thee with thy lips to stop my mouth;
- So shouldst thou either turn my flying soul,
- Or I should breathe it so into thy body,
- And then it liv'd in sweet Elysium.
- To die by thee were but to die in jest:
- From thee to die were torture more than death.
- O, let me stay, befall what may befall!
- QUEEN. Away! Though parting be a fretful corrosive,
- It is applied to a deathful wound.
- To France, sweet Suffolk. Let me hear from thee;
- For whereso'er thou art in this world's globe
- I'll have an Iris that shall find thee out.
- SUFFOLK. I go.
- QUEEN. And take my heart with thee. [She kisses him]
- SUFFOLK. A jewel, lock'd into the woefull'st cask
- That ever did contain a thing of worth.
- Even as a splitted bark, so sunder we:
- This way fall I to death.
- QUEEN. This way for me. Exeunt severally
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-London. CARDINAL BEAUFORT'S bedchamber
-
-Enter the KING, SALISBURY, and WARWICK, to the CARDINAL in bed
-
- KING HENRY. How fares my lord? Speak, Beaufort, to thy sovereign.
- CARDINAL. If thou be'st Death I'll give thee England's treasure,
- Enough to purchase such another island,
- So thou wilt let me live and feel no pain.
- KING HENRY. Ah, what a sign it is of evil life
- Where death's approach is seen so terrible!
- WARWICK. Beaufort, it is thy sovereign speaks to thee.
- CARDINAL. Bring me unto my trial when you will.
- Died he not in his bed? Where should he die?
- Can I make men live, whe'er they will or no?
- O, torture me no more! I will confess.
- Alive again? Then show me where he is;
- I'll give a thousand pound to look upon him.
- He hath no eyes, the dust hath blinded them.
- Comb down his hair; look, look! it stands upright,
- Like lime-twigs set to catch my winged soul!
- Give me some drink; and bid the apothecary
- Bring the strong poison that I bought of him.
- KING HENRY. O Thou eternal Mover of the heavens,
- Look with a gentle eye upon this wretch!
- O, beat away the busy meddling fiend
- That lays strong siege unto this wretch's soul,
- And from his bosom purge this black despair!
- WARWICK. See how the pangs of death do make him grin
- SALISBURY. Disturb him not, let him pass peaceably.
- KING HENRY. Peace to his soul, if God's good pleasure be!
- Lord Card'nal, if thou think'st on heaven's bliss,
- Hold up thy hand, make signal of thy hope.
- He dies, and makes no sign: O God, forgive him!
- WARWICK. So bad a death argues a monstrous life.
- KING HENRY. Forbear to judge, for we are sinners all.
- Close up his eyes, and draw the curtain close;
- And let us all to meditation. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
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-
-ACT IV. SCENE I.
-The coast of Kent
-
-Alarum. Fight at sea. Ordnance goes off. Enter a LIEUTENANT,
-a SHIPMASTER and his MATE, and WALTER WHITMORE, with sailors;
-SUFFOLK and other GENTLEMEN, as prisoners
-
- LIEUTENANT. The gaudy, blabbing, and remorseful day
- Is crept into the bosom of the sea;
- And now loud-howling wolves arouse the jades
- That drag the tragic melancholy night;
- Who with their drowsy, slow, and flagging wings
- Clip dead men's graves, and from their misty jaws
- Breathe foul contagious darkness in the air.
- Therefore bring forth the soldiers of our prize;
- For, whilst our pinnace anchors in the Downs,
- Here shall they make their ransom on the sand,
- Or with their blood stain this discoloured shore.
- Master, this prisoner freely give I thee;
- And thou that art his mate make boot of this;
- The other, Walter Whitmore, is thy share.
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. What is my ransom, master, let me know?
- MASTER. A thousand crowns, or else lay down your head.
- MATE. And so much shall you give, or off goes yours.
- LIEUTENANT. What, think you much to pay two thousand crowns,
- And bear the name and port of gentlemen?
- Cut both the villains' throats- for die you shall;
- The lives of those which we have lost in fight
- Be counterpois'd with such a petty sum!
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. I'll give it, sir: and therefore spare my life.
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. And so will I, and write home for it straight.
- WHITMORE. I lost mine eye in laying the prize aboard,
- [To SUFFOLK] And therefore, to revenge it, shalt thou die;
- And so should these, if I might have my will.
- LIEUTENANT. Be not so rash; take ransom, let him live.
- SUFFOLK. Look on my George, I am a gentleman:
- Rate me at what thou wilt, thou shalt be paid.
- WHITMORE. And so am I: my name is Walter Whitmore.
- How now! Why start'st thou? What, doth death affright?
- SUFFOLK. Thy name affrights me, in whose sound is death.
- A cunning man did calculate my birth
- And told me that by water I should die;
- Yet let not this make thee be bloody-minded;
- Thy name is Gualtier, being rightly sounded.
- WHITMORE. Gualtier or Walter, which it is I care not:
- Never yet did base dishonour blur our name
- But with our sword we wip'd away the blot;
- Therefore, when merchant-like I sell revenge,
- Broke be my sword, my arms torn and defac'd,
- And I proclaim'd a coward through the world.
- SUFFOLK. Stay, Whitmore, for thy prisoner is a prince,
- The Duke of Suffolk, William de la Pole.
- WHITMORE. The Duke of Suffolk muffled up in rags?
- SUFFOLK. Ay, but these rags are no part of the Duke:
- Jove sometime went disguis'd, and why not I?
- LIEUTENANT. But Jove was never slain, as thou shalt be.
- SUFFOLK. Obscure and lowly swain, King Henry's blood,
- The honourable blood of Lancaster,
- Must not be shed by such a jaded groom.
- Hast thou not kiss'd thy hand and held my stirrup,
- Bareheaded plodded by my foot-cloth mule,
- And thought thee happy when I shook my head?
- How often hast thou waited at my cup,
- Fed from my trencher, kneel'd down at the board,
- When I have feasted with Queen Margaret?
- Remember it, and let it make thee crestfall'n,
- Ay, and allay thus thy abortive pride,
- How in our voiding-lobby hast thou stood
- And duly waited for my coming forth.
- This hand of mine hath writ in thy behalf,
- And therefore shall it charm thy riotous tongue.
- WHITMORE. Speak, Captain, shall I stab the forlorn swain?
- LIEUTENANT. First let my words stab him, as he hath me.
- SUFFOLK. Base slave, thy words are blunt, and so art thou.
- LIEUTENANT. Convey him hence, and on our longboat's side
- Strike off his head.
- SUFFOLK. Thou dar'st not, for thy own.
- LIEUTENANT. Poole!
- SUFFOLK. Poole?
- LIEUTENANT. Ay, kennel, puddle, sink, whose filth and dirt
- Troubles the silver spring where England drinks;
- Now will I dam up this thy yawning mouth
- For swallowing the treasure of the realm.
- Thy lips, that kiss'd the Queen, shall sweep the ground;
- And thou that smil'dst at good Duke Humphrey's death
- Against the senseless winds shalt grin in vain,
- Who in contempt shall hiss at thee again;
- And wedded be thou to the hags of hell
- For daring to affy a mighty lord
- Unto the daughter of a worthless king,
- Having neither subject, wealth, nor diadem.
- By devilish policy art thou grown great,
- And, like ambitious Sylla, overgorg'd
- With gobbets of thy mother's bleeding heart.
- By thee Anjou and Maine were sold to France;
- The false revolting Normans thorough thee
- Disdain to call us lord; and Picardy
- Hath slain their governors, surpris'd our forts,
- And sent the ragged soldiers wounded home.
- The princely Warwick, and the Nevils all,
- Whose dreadful swords were never drawn in vain,
- As hating thee, are rising up in arms;
- And now the house of York- thrust from the crown
- By shameful murder of a guiltless king
- And lofty proud encroaching tyranny-
- Burns with revenging fire, whose hopeful colours
- Advance our half-fac'd sun, striving to shine,
- Under the which is writ 'Invitis nubibus.'
- The commons here in Kent are up in arms;
- And to conclude, reproach and beggary
- Is crept into the palace of our King,
- And all by thee. Away! convey him hence.
- SUFFOLK. O that I were a god, to shoot forth thunder
- Upon these paltry, servile, abject drudges!
- Small things make base men proud: this villain here,
- Being captain of a pinnace, threatens more
- Than Bargulus, the strong Illyrian pirate.
- Drones suck not eagles' blood but rob beehives.
- It is impossible that I should die
- By such a lowly vassal as thyself.
- Thy words move rage and not remorse in me.
- I go of message from the Queen to France:
- I charge thee waft me safely cross the Channel.
- LIEUTENANT. Walter-
- WHITMORE. Come, Suffolk, I must waft thee to thy death.
- SUFFOLK. Gelidus timor occupat artus: it is thee I fear.
- WHITMORE. Thou shalt have cause to fear before I leave thee.
- What, are ye daunted now? Now will ye stoop?
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. My gracious lord, entreat him, speak him fair.
- SUFFOLK. Suffolk's imperial tongue is stem and rough,
- Us'd to command, untaught to plead for favour.
- Far be it we should honour such as these
- With humble suit: no, rather let my head
- Stoop to the block than these knees bow to any
- Save to the God of heaven and to my king;
- And sooner dance upon a bloody pole
- Than stand uncover'd to the vulgar groom.
- True nobility is exempt from fear:
- More can I bear than you dare execute.
- LIEUTENANT. Hale him away, and let him talk no more.
- SUFFOLK. Come, soldiers, show what cruelty ye can,
- That this my death may never be forgot-
- Great men oft die by vile bezonians:
- A Roman sworder and banditto slave
- Murder'd sweet Tully; Brutus' bastard hand
- Stabb'd Julius Caesar; savage islanders
- Pompey the Great; and Suffolk dies by pirates.
- Exit WALTER with SUFFOLK
- LIEUTENANT. And as for these, whose ransom we have set,
- It is our pleasure one of them depart;
- Therefore come you with us, and let him go.
- Exeunt all but the FIRST GENTLEMAN
-
- Re-enter WHITMORE with SUFFOLK'S body
-
- WHITMORE. There let his head and lifeless body lie,
- Until the Queen his mistress bury it. Exit
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. O barbarous and bloody spectacle!
- His body will I bear unto the King.
- If he revenge it not, yet will his friends;
- So will the Queen, that living held him dear.
- Exit with the body
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-Blackheath
-
-Enter GEORGE BEVIS and JOHN HOLLAND
-
- GEORGE. Come and get thee a sword, though made of a lath; they have
- been up these two days.
- JOHN. They have the more need to sleep now, then.
- GEORGE. I tell thee Jack Cade the clothier means to dress the
- commonwealth, and turn it, and set a new nap upon it.
- JOHN. So he had need, for 'tis threadbare. Well, I say it was never
- merry world in England since gentlemen came up.
- GEORGE. O miserable age! Virtue is not regarded in handicraftsmen.
- JOHN. The nobility think scorn to go in leather aprons.
- GEORGE. Nay, more, the King's Council are no good workmen.
- JOHN. True; and yet it is said 'Labour in thy vocation'; which is
- as much to say as 'Let the magistrates be labouring men'; and
- therefore should we be magistrates.
- GEORGE. Thou hast hit it; for there's no better sign of a brave
- mind than a hard hand.
- JOHN. I see them! I see them! There's Best's son, the tanner of
- Wingham-
- GEORGE. He shall have the skins of our enemies to make dog's
- leather of.
- JOHN. And Dick the butcher-
- GEORGE. Then is sin struck down, like an ox, and iniquity's throat
- cut like a calf.
- JOHN. And Smith the weaver-
- GEORGE. Argo, their thread of life is spun.
- JOHN. Come, come, let's fall in with them.
-
- Drum. Enter CADE, DICK THE BUTCHER, SMITH
- THE WEAVER, and a SAWYER, with infinite numbers
-
- CADE. We John Cade, so term'd of our supposed father-
- DICK. [Aside] Or rather, of stealing a cade of herrings.
- CADE. For our enemies shall fall before us, inspired with the
- spirit of putting down kings and princes- command silence.
- DICK. Silence!
- CADE. My father was a Mortimer-
- DICK. [Aside] He was an honest man and a good bricklayer.
- CADE. My mother a Plantagenet-
- DICK. [Aside] I knew her well; she was a midwife.
- CADE. My wife descended of the Lacies-
- DICK. [Aside] She was, indeed, a pedlar's daughter, and sold many
- laces.
- SMITH. [Aside] But now of late, not able to travel with her furr'd
- pack, she washes bucks here at home.
- CADE. Therefore am I of an honourable house.
- DICK. [Aside] Ay, by my faith, the field is honourable, and there
- was he born, under a hedge, for his father had never a house but
- the cage.
- CADE. Valiant I am.
- SMITH. [Aside] 'A must needs; for beggary is valiant.
- CADE. I am able to endure much.
- DICK. [Aside] No question of that; for I have seen him whipt three
- market days together.
- CADE. I fear neither sword nor fire.
- SMITH. [Aside] He need not fear the sword, for his coat is of
- proof.
- DICK. [Aside] But methinks he should stand in fear of fire, being
- burnt i' th' hand for stealing of sheep.
- CADE. Be brave, then, for your captain is brave, and vows
- reformation. There shall be in England seven halfpenny loaves
- sold for a penny; the three-hoop'd pot shall have ten hoops; and
- I will make it felony to drink small beer. All the realm shall be
- in common, and in Cheapside shall my palfrey go to grass. And
- when I am king- as king I will be
- ALL. God save your Majesty!
- CADE. I thank you, good people- there shall be no money; all shall
- eat and drink on my score, and I will apparel them all in one
- livery, that they may agree like brothers and worship me their
- lord.
- DICK. The first thing we do, let's kill all the lawyers.
- CADE. Nay, that I mean to do. Is not this a lamentable thing, that
- of the skin of an innocent lamb should be made parchment? That
- parchment, being scribbl'd o'er, should undo a man? Some say the
- bee stings; but I say 'tis the bee's wax; for I did but seal once
- to a thing, and I was never mine own man since. How now! Who's
- there?
-
- Enter some, bringing in the CLERK OF CHATHAM
-
- SMITH. The clerk of Chatham. He can write and read and cast
- accompt.
- CADE. O monstrous!
- SMITH. We took him setting of boys' copies.
- CADE. Here's a villain!
- SMITH. Has a book in his pocket with red letters in't.
- CADE. Nay, then he is a conjurer.
- DICK. Nay, he can make obligations and write court-hand.
- CADE. I am sorry for't; the man is a proper man, of mine honour;
- unless I find him guilty, he shall not die. Come hither, sirrah,
- I must examine thee. What is thy name?
- CLERK. Emmanuel.
- DICK. They use to write it on the top of letters; 'twill go hard
- with you.
- CADE. Let me alone. Dost thou use to write thy name, or hast thou a
- mark to thyself, like a honest plain-dealing man?
- CLERK. Sir, I thank God, I have been so well brought up that I can
- write my name.
- ALL. He hath confess'd. Away with him! He's a villain and a
- traitor.
- CADE. Away with him, I say! Hang him with his pen and inkhorn about
- his neck. Exit one with the CLERK
-
- Enter MICHAEL
-
- MICHAEL. Where's our General?
- CADE. Here I am, thou particular fellow.
- MICHAEL. Fly, fly, fly! Sir Humphrey Stafford and his brother are
- hard by, with the King's forces.
- CADE. Stand, villain, stand, or I'll fell thee down. He shall be
- encount'red with a man as good as himself. He is but a knight,
- is 'a?
- MICHAEL. No.
- CADE. To equal him, I will make myself a knight presently.
- [Kneels] Rise up, Sir John Mortimer. [Rises] Now have at him!
-
- Enter SIR HUMPHREY STAFFORD and WILLIAM
- his brother, with drum and soldiers
-
- STAFFORD. Rebellious hinds, the filth and scum of Kent,
- Mark'd for the gallows, lay your weapons down;
- Home to your cottages, forsake this groom;
- The King is merciful if you revolt.
- WILLIAM STAFFORD. But angry, wrathful, and inclin'd to blood,
- If you go forward; therefore yield or die.
- CADE. As for these silken-coated slaves, I pass not;
- It is to you, good people, that I speak,
- O'er whom, in time to come, I hope to reign;
- For I am rightful heir unto the crown.
- STAFFORD. Villain, thy father was a plasterer;
- And thou thyself a shearman, art thou not?
- CADE. And Adam was a gardener.
- WILLIAM STAFFORD. And what of that?
- CADE. Marry, this: Edmund Mortimer, Earl of March,
- Married the Duke of Clarence' daughter, did he not?
- STAFFORD. Ay, sir.
- CADE. By her he had two children at one birth.
- WILLIAM STAFFORD. That's false.
- CADE. Ay, there's the question; but I say 'tis true.
- The elder of them being put to nurse,
- Was by a beggar-woman stol'n away,
- And, ignorant of his birth and parentage,
- Became a bricklayer when he came to age.
- His son am I; deny it if you can.
- DICK. Nay, 'tis too true; therefore he shall be king.
- SMITH. Sir, he made a chimney in my father's house, and the bricks
- are alive at this day to testify it; therefore deny it not.
- STAFFORD. And will you credit this base drudge's words
- That speaks he knows not what?
- ALL. Ay, marry, will we; therefore get ye gone.
- WILLIAM STAFFORD. Jack Cade, the Duke of York hath taught you this.
- CADE. [Aside] He lies, for I invented it myself- Go to, sirrah,
- tell the King from me that for his father's sake, Henry the
- Fifth, in whose time boys went to span-counter for French crowns,
- I am content he shall reign; but I'll be Protector over him.
- DICK. And furthermore, we'll have the Lord Say's head for selling
- the dukedom of Maine.
- CADE. And good reason; for thereby is England main'd and fain to go
- with a staff, but that my puissance holds it up. Fellow kings, I
- tell you that that Lord Say hath gelded the commonwealth and made
- it an eunuch; and more than that, he can speak French, and
- therefore he is a traitor.
- STAFFORD. O gross and miserable ignorance!
- CADE. Nay, answer if you can; the Frenchmen are our enemies. Go to,
- then, I ask but this: can he that speaks with the tongue of an
- enemy be a good counsellor, or no?
- ALL. No, no; and therefore we'll have his head.
- WILLIAM STAFFORD. Well, seeing gentle words will not prevail,
- Assail them with the army of the King.
- STAFFORD. Herald, away; and throughout every town
- Proclaim them traitors that are up with Cade;
- That those which fly before the battle ends
- May, even in their wives'and children's sight,
- Be hang'd up for example at their doors.
- And you that be the King's friends, follow me.
- Exeunt the TWO STAFFORDS and soldiers
- CADE. And you that love the commons follow me.
- Now show yourselves men; 'tis for liberty.
- We will not leave one lord, one gentleman;
- Spare none but such as go in clouted shoon,
- For they are thrifty honest men and such
- As would- but that they dare not- take our parts.
- DICK. They are all in order, and march toward us.
- CADE. But then are we in order when we are most out of order. Come,
- march forward. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-Another part of Blackheath
-
-Alarums to the fight, wherein both the STAFFORDS are slain.
-Enter CADE and the rest
-
- CADE. Where's Dick, the butcher of Ashford?
- DICK. Here, sir.
- CADE. They fell before thee like sheep and oxen, and thou behavedst
- thyself as if thou hadst been in thine own slaughter-house;
- therefore thus will I reward thee- the Lent shall be as long
- again as it is, and thou shalt have a licence to kill for a
- hundred lacking one.
- DICK. I desire no more.
- CADE. And, to speak truth, thou deserv'st no less. [Putting on SIR
- HUMPHREY'S brigandine] This monument of the victory will I bear,
- and the bodies shall be dragged at my horse heels till I do come
- to London, where we will have the mayor's sword borne before us.
- DICK. If we mean to thrive and do good, break open the gaols and
- let out the prisoners.
- CADE. Fear not that, I warrant thee. Come, let's march towards
- London. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE IV.
-London. The palace
-
-Enter the KING with a supplication, and the QUEEN with SUFFOLK'S head;
-the DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM, and the LORD SAY
-
- QUEEN. Oft have I heard that grief softens the mind
- And makes it fearful and degenerate;
- Think therefore on revenge and cease to weep.
- But who can cease to weep, and look on this?
- Here may his head lie on my throbbing breast;
- But where's the body that I should embrace?
- BUCKINGHAM. What answer makes your Grace to the rebels'
- supplication?
- KING HENRY. I'll send some holy bishop to entreat;
- For God forbid so many simple souls
- Should perish by the sword! And I myself,
- Rather than bloody war shall cut them short,
- Will parley with Jack Cade their general.
- But stay, I'll read it over once again.
- QUEEN. Ah, barbarous villains! Hath this lovely face
- Rul'd like a wandering planet over me,
- And could it not enforce them to relent
- That were unworthy to behold the same?
- KING HENRY. Lord Say, Jack Cade hath sworn to have thy head.
- SAY. Ay, but I hope your Highness shall have his.
- KING HENRY. How now, madam!
- Still lamenting and mourning for Suffolk's death?
- I fear me, love, if that I had been dead,
- Thou wouldst not have mourn'd so much for me.
- QUEEN. No, my love, I should not mourn, but die for thee.
-
- Enter A MESSENGER
-
- KING HENRY. How now! What news? Why com'st thou in such haste?
- MESSENGER. The rebels are in Southwark; fly, my lord!
- Jack Cade proclaims himself Lord Mortimer,
- Descended from the Duke of Clarence' house,
- And calls your Grace usurper, openly,
- And vows to crown himself in Westminster.
- His army is a ragged multitude
- Of hinds and peasants, rude and merciless;
- Sir Humphrey Stafford and his brother's death
- Hath given them heart and courage to proceed.
- All scholars, lawyers, courtiers, gentlemen,
- They call false caterpillars and intend their death.
- KING HENRY. O graceless men! they know not what they do.
- BUCKINGHAM. My gracious lord, retire to Killingworth
- Until a power be rais'd to put them down.
- QUEEN. Ah, were the Duke of Suffolk now alive,
- These Kentish rebels would be soon appeas'd!
- KING HENRY. Lord Say, the traitors hate thee;
- Therefore away with us to Killingworth.
- SAY. So might your Grace's person be in danger.
- The sight of me is odious in their eyes;
- And therefore in this city will I stay
- And live alone as secret as I may.
-
- Enter another MESSENGER
-
- SECOND MESSENGER. Jack Cade hath gotten London Bridge.
- The citizens fly and forsake their houses;
- The rascal people, thirsting after prey,
- Join with the traitor; and they jointly swear
- To spoil the city and your royal court.
- BUCKINGHAM. Then linger not, my lord; away, take horse.
- KING HENRY. Come Margaret; God, our hope, will succour us.
- QUEEN. My hope is gone, now Suffolk is deceas'd.
- KING HENRY. [To LORD SAY] Farewell, my lord, trust not the Kentish
- rebels.
- BUCKINGHAM. Trust nobody, for fear you be betray'd.
- SAY. The trust I have is in mine innocence,
- And therefore am I bold and resolute. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE V.
-London. The Tower
-
-Enter LORD SCALES Upon the Tower, walking. Then enter two or three CITIZENS,
-below
-
- SCALES. How now! Is Jack Cade slain?
- FIRST CITIZEN. No, my lord, nor likely to be slain; for they have
- won the bridge, killing all those that withstand them.
- The Lord Mayor craves aid of your honour from the
- Tower, to defend the city from the rebels.
- SCALES. Such aid as I can spare you shall command,
- But I am troubled here with them myself;
- The rebels have assay'd to win the Tower.
- But get you to Smithfield, and gather head,
- And thither I will send you Matthew Goffe;
- Fight for your King, your country, and your lives;
- And so, farewell, for I must hence again. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE VI.
-London. Cannon street
-
-Enter JACK CADE and the rest, and strikes his staff on London Stone
-
- CADE. Now is Mortimer lord of this city. And here, sitting upon
- London Stone, I charge and command that, of the city's cost, the
- pissing conduit run nothing but claret wine this first year of
- our reign. And now henceforward it shall be treason for any that
- calls me other than Lord Mortimer.
-
- Enter a SOLDIER, running
-
- SOLDIER. Jack Cade! Jack Cade!
- CADE. Knock him down there. [They kill him]
- SMITH. If this fellow be wise, he'll never call ye Jack Cade more;
- I think he hath a very fair warning.
- DICK. My lord, there's an army gathered together in Smithfield.
- CADE. Come then, let's go fight with them. But first go and set
- London Bridge on fire; and, if you can, burn down the Tower too.
- Come, let's away. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE VII.
-London. Smithfield
-
-Alarums. MATTHEW GOFFE is slain, and all the rest. Then enter JACK CADE,
-with his company
-
- CADE. So, sirs. Now go some and pull down the Savoy; others to th'
- Inns of Court; down with them all.
- DICK. I have a suit unto your lordship.
- CADE. Be it a lordship, thou shalt have it for that word.
- DICK. Only that the laws of England may come out of your mouth.
- JOHN. [Aside] Mass, 'twill be sore law then; for he was thrust in
- the mouth with a spear, and 'tis not whole yet.
- SMITH. [Aside] Nay, John, it will be stinking law; for his breath
- stinks with eating toasted cheese.
- CADE. I have thought upon it; it shall be so. Away, burn all the
- records of the realm. My mouth shall be the Parliament of
- England.
- JOHN. [Aside] Then we are like to have biting statutes, unless his
- teeth be pull'd out.
- CADE. And henceforward all things shall be in common.
-
- Enter a MESSENGER
-
- MESSENGER. My lord, a prize, a prize! Here's the Lord Say, which
- sold the towns in France; he that made us pay one and twenty
- fifteens, and one shining to the pound, the last subsidy.
-
- Enter GEORGE BEVIS, with the LORD SAY
-
- CADE. Well, he shall be beheaded for it ten times. Ah, thou say,
- thou serge, nay, thou buckram lord! Now art thou within point
- blank of our jurisdiction regal. What canst thou answer to my
- Majesty for giving up of Normandy unto Mounsieur Basimecu the
- Dauphin of France? Be it known unto thee by these presence, even
- the presence of Lord Mortimer, that I am the besom that must
- sweep the court clean of such filth as thou art. Thou hast most
- traitorously corrupted the youth of the realm in erecting a
- grammar school; and whereas, before, our forefathers had no other
- books but the score and the tally, thou hast caused printing to
- be us'd, and, contrary to the King, his crown, and dignity, thou
- hast built a paper-mill. It will be proved to thy face that thou
- hast men about thee that usually talk of a noun and a verb, and
- such abominable words as no Christian ear can endure to hear.
- Thou hast appointed justices of peace, to call poor men before
- them about matters they were not able to answer. Moreover, thou
- hast put them in prison, and because they could not read, thou
- hast hang'd them, when, indeed, only for that cause they have
- been most worthy to live. Thou dost ride in a foot-cloth, dost
- thou not?
- SAY. What of that?
- CADE. Marry, thou ought'st not to let thy horse wear a cloak, when
- honester men than thou go in their hose and doublets.
- DICK. And work in their shirt too, as myself, for example, that am
- a butcher.
- SAY. You men of Kent-
- DICK. What say you of Kent?
- SAY. Nothing but this: 'tis 'bona terra, mala gens.'
- CADE. Away with him, away with him! He speaks Latin.
- SAY. Hear me but speak, and bear me where you will.
- Kent, in the Commentaries Caesar writ,
- Is term'd the civil'st place of all this isle.
- Sweet is the country, because full of riches;
- The people liberal valiant, active, wealthy;
- Which makes me hope you are not void of pity.
- I sold not Maine, I lost not Normandy;
- Yet, to recover them, would lose my life.
- Justice with favour have I always done;
- Pray'rs and tears have mov'd me, gifts could never.
- When have I aught exacted at your hands,
- But to maintain the King, the realm, and you?
- Large gifts have I bestow'd on learned clerks,
- Because my book preferr'd me to the King,
- And seeing ignorance is the curse of God,
- Knowledge the wing wherewith we fly to heaven,
- Unless you be possess'd with devilish spirits
- You cannot but forbear to murder me.
- This tongue hath parley'd unto foreign kings
- For your behoof.
- CADE. Tut, when struck'st thou one blow in the field?
- SAY. Great men have reaching hands. Oft have I struck
- Those that I never saw, and struck them dead.
- GEORGE. O monstrous coward! What, to come behind folks?
- SAY. These cheeks are pale for watching for your good.
- CADE. Give him a box o' th' ear, and that will make 'em red again.
- SAY. Long sitting to determine poor men's causes
- Hath made me full of sickness and diseases.
- CADE. Ye shall have a hempen caudle then, and the help of hatchet.
- DICK. Why dost thou quiver, man?
- SAY. The palsy, and not fear, provokes me.
- CADE. Nay, he nods at us, as who should say 'I'll be even with
- you'; I'll see if his head will stand steadier on a pole, or no.
- Take him away, and behead him.
- SAY. Tell me: wherein have I offended most?
- Have I affected wealth or honour? Speak.
- Are my chests fill'd up with extorted gold?
- Is my apparel sumptuous to behold?
- Whom have I injur'd, that ye seek my death?
- These hands are free from guiltless bloodshedding,
- This breast from harbouring foul deceitful thoughts.
- O, let me live!
- CADE. [Aside] I feel remorse in myself with his words; but I'll
- bridle it. He shall die, an it be but for pleading so well for
- his life.- Away with him! He has a familiar under his tongue; he
- speaks not o' God's name. Go, take him away, I say, and strike
- off his head presently, and then break into his son-in-law's
- house, Sir James Cromer, and strike off his head, and bring them
- both upon two poles hither.
- ALL. It shall be done.
- SAY. Ah, countrymen! if when you make your pray'rs,
- God should be so obdurate as yourselves,
- How would it fare with your departed souls?
- And therefore yet relent and save my life.
- CADE. Away with him, and do as I command ye. [Exeunt some with
- LORD SAY] The proudest peer in the realm shall not wear a head
- on his shoulders, unless he pay me tribute; there shall not a
- maid be married, but she shall pay to me her maidenhead ere they
- have it. Men shall hold of me in capite; and we charge and
- command that their wives be as free as heart can wish or tongue
- can tell.
- DICK. My lord, when shall we go to Cheapside, and take up
- commodities upon our bills?
- CADE. Marry, presently.
- ALL. O, brave!
-
- Re-enter one with the heads
-
- CADE. But is not this braver? Let them kiss one another, for they
- lov'd well when they were alive. Now part them again, lest they
- consult about the giving up of some more towns in France.
- Soldiers, defer the spoil of the city until night; for with these
- borne before us instead of maces will we ride through the
- streets, and at every corner have them kiss. Away! Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE VIII.
-Southwark
-
-Alarum and retreat. Enter again CADE and all his rabblement
-
- CADE. Up Fish Street! down Saint Magnus' Corner! Kill and knock
- down! Throw them into Thames! [Sound a parley]
- What noise is this I hear? Dare any be so bold to sound retreat
- or parley when I command them kill?
-
- Enter BUCKINGHAM and old CLIFFORD, attended
-
- BUCKINGHAM. Ay, here they be that dare and will disturb thee.
- And therefore yet relent, and save my life.
- Know, Cade, we come ambassadors from the King
- Unto the commons whom thou hast misled;
- And here pronounce free pardon to them all
- That will forsake thee and go home in peace.
- CLIFFORD. What say ye, countrymen? Will ye relent
- And yield to mercy whilst 'tis offer'd you,
- Or let a rebel lead you to your deaths?
- Who loves the King, and will embrace his pardon,
- Fling up his cap and say 'God save his Majesty!'
- Who hateth him and honours not his father,
- Henry the Fifth, that made all France to quake,
- Shake he his weapon at us and pass by.
- ALL. God save the King! God save the King!
- CADE. What, Buckingham and Clifford, are ye so brave?
- And you, base peasants, do ye believe him? Will you needs be
- hang'd with your about your necks? Hath my sword therefore broke
- through London gates, that you should leave me at the White Hart
- in Southwark? I thought ye would never have given out these arms
- till you had recovered your ancient freedom. But you are all
- recreants and dastards, and delight to live in slavery to the
- nobility. Let them break your backs with burdens, take your
- houses over your heads, ravish your wives and daughters before
- your faces. For me, I will make shift for one; and so God's curse
- light upon you all!
- ALL. We'll follow Cade, we'll follow Cade!
- CLIFFORD. Is Cade the son of Henry the Fifth,
- That thus you do exclaim you'll go with him?
- Will he conduct you through the heart of France,
- And make the meanest of you earls and dukes?
- Alas, he hath no home, no place to fly to;
- Nor knows he how to live but by the spoil,
- Unless by robbing of your friends and us.
- Were't not a shame that whilst you live at jar
- The fearful French, whom you late vanquished,
- Should make a start o'er seas and vanquish you?
- Methinks already in this civil broil
- I see them lording it in London streets,
- Crying 'Villiago!' unto all they meet.
- Better ten thousand base-born Cades miscarry
- Than you should stoop unto a Frenchman's mercy.
- To France, to France, and get what you have lost;
- Spare England, for it is your native coast.
- Henry hath money; you are strong and manly.
- God on our side, doubt not of victory.
- ALL. A Clifford! a Clifford! We'll follow the King and Clifford.
- CADE. Was ever feather so lightly blown to and fro as this
- multitude? The name of Henry the Fifth hales them to an hundred
- mischiefs, and makes them leave me desolate. I see them lay their
- heads together to surprise me. My sword make way for me for here
- is no staying. In despite of the devils and hell, have through
- the very middest of you! and heavens and honour be witness that
- no want of resolution in me, but only my followers' base and
- ignominious treasons, makes me betake me to my heels.
- Exit
- BUCKINGHAM. What, is he fled? Go some, and follow him;
- And he that brings his head unto the King
- Shall have a thousand crowns for his reward.
- Exeunt some of them
- Follow me, soldiers; we'll devise a mean
- To reconcile you all unto the King. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE IX.
-Killing, worth Castle
-
-Sound trumpets. Enter KING, QUEEN, and SOMERSET, on the terrace
-
- KING HENRY. Was ever king that joy'd an earthly throne
- And could command no more content than I?
- No sooner was I crept out of my cradle
- But I was made a king, at nine months old.
- Was never subject long'd to be a King
- As I do long and wish to be a subject.
-
- Enter BUCKINGHAM and old CLIFFORD
-
- BUCKINGHAM. Health and glad tidings to your Majesty!
- KING HENRY. Why, Buckingham, is the traitor Cade surpris'd?
- Or is he but retir'd to make him strong?
-
- Enter, below, multitudes, with halters about their necks
-
- CLIFFORD. He is fled, my lord, and all his powers do yield,
- And humbly thus, with halters on their necks,
- Expect your Highness' doom of life or death.
- KING HENRY. Then, heaven, set ope thy everlasting gates,
- To entertain my vows of thanks and praise!
- Soldiers, this day have you redeem'd your lives,
- And show'd how well you love your Prince and country.
- Continue still in this so good a mind,
- And Henry, though he be infortunate,
- Assure yourselves, will never be unkind.
- And so, with thanks and pardon to you all,
- I do dismiss you to your several countries.
- ALL. God save the King! God save the King!
-
- Enter a MESSENGER
-
- MESSENGER. Please it your Grace to be advertised
- The Duke of York is newly come from Ireland
- And with a puissant and a mighty power
- Of gallowglasses and stout kerns
- Is marching hitherward in proud array,
- And still proclaimeth, as he comes along,
- His arms are only to remove from thee
- The Duke of Somerset, whom he terms a traitor.
- KING HENRY. Thus stands my state, 'twixt Cade and York distress'd;
- Like to a ship that, having scap'd a tempest,
- Is straightway calm'd, and boarded with a pirate;
- But now is Cade driven back, his men dispers'd,
- And now is York in arms to second him.
- I pray thee, Buckingham, go and meet him
- And ask him what's the reason of these arms.
- Tell him I'll send Duke Edmund to the Tower-
- And Somerset, we will commit thee thither
- Until his army be dismiss'd from him.
- SOMERSET. My lord,
- I'll yield myself to prison willingly,
- Or unto death, to do my country good.
- KING HENRY. In any case be not too rough in terms,
- For he is fierce and cannot brook hard language.
- BUCKINGHAM. I will, my lord, and doubt not so to deal
- As all things shall redound unto your good.
- KING HENRY. Come, wife, let's in, and learn to govern better;
- For yet may England curse my wretched reign.
- Flourish. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE X.
-Kent. Iden's garden
-
-Enter CADE
-
- CADE. Fie on ambitions! Fie on myself, that have a sword and yet am
- ready to famish! These five days have I hid me in these woods and
- durst not peep out, for all the country is laid for me; but now
- am I so hungry that, if I might have a lease of my life for a
- thousand years, I could stay no longer. Wherefore, on a brick
- wall have I climb'd into this garden, to see if I can eat grass
- or pick a sallet another while, which is not amiss to cool a
- man's stomach this hot weather. And I think this word 'sallet'
- was born to do me good; for many a time, but for a sallet, my
- brain-pain had been cleft with a brown bill; and many a time,
- when I have been dry, and bravely marching, it hath serv'd me
- instead of a quart-pot to drink in; and now the word 'sallet'
- must serve me to feed on.
-
- Enter IDEN
-
- IDEN. Lord, who would live turmoiled in the court
- And may enjoy such quiet walks as these?
- This small inheritance my father left me
- Contenteth me, and worth a monarchy.
- I seek not to wax great by others' waning
- Or gather wealth I care not with what envy;
- Sufficeth that I have maintains my state,
- And sends the poor well pleased from my gate.
- CADE. Here's the lord of the soil come to seize me for a stray, for
- entering his fee-simple without leave. Ah, villain, thou wilt
- betray me, and get a thousand crowns of the King by carrying my
- head to him; but I'll make thee eat iron like an ostrich and
- swallow my sword like a great pin ere thou and I part.
- IDEN. Why, rude companion, whatsoe'er thou be,
- I know thee not; why then should I betray thee?
- Is't not enough to break into my garden
- And like a thief to come to rob my grounds,
- Climbing my walls in spite of me the owner,
- But thou wilt brave me with these saucy terms?
- CADE. Brave thee? Ay, by the best blood that ever was broach'd, and
- beard thee too. Look on me well: I have eat no meat these five
- days, yet come thou and thy five men and if I do not leave you
- all as dead as a door-nail, I pray God I may never eat grass
- more.
- IDEN. Nay, it shall ne'er be said, while England stands,
- That Alexander Iden, an esquire of Kent,
- Took odds to combat a poor famish'd man.
- Oppose thy steadfast-gazing eyes to mine;
- See if thou canst outface me with thy looks;
- Set limb to limb, and thou art far the lesser;
- Thy hand is but a finger to my fist,
- Thy leg a stick compared with this truncheon;
- My foot shall fight with all the strength thou hast,
- And if mine arm be heaved in the air,
- Thy grave is digg'd already in the earth.
- As for words, whose greatness answers words,
- Let this my sword report what speech forbears.
- CADE. By my valour, the most complete champion that ever I heard!
- Steel, if thou turn the edge, or cut not out the burly bon'd
- clown in chines of beef ere thou sleep in thy sheath, I beseech
- God on my knees thou mayst be turn'd to hobnails. [Here they
- fight; CADE falls] O, I am slain! famine and no other hath slain
- me. Let ten thousand devils come against me, and give me but the
- ten meals I have lost, and I'd defy them all. Wither, garden, and
- be henceforth a burying place to all that do dwell in this house,
- because the unconquered soul of Cade is fled.
- IDEN. Is't Cade that I have slain, that monstrous traitor?
- Sword, I will hallow thee for this thy deed
- And hang thee o'er my tomb when I am dead.
- Ne'er shall this blood be wiped from thy point,
- But thou shalt wear it as a herald's coat
- To emblaze the honour that thy master got.
- CADE. Iden, farewell; and be proud of thy victory. Tell Kent from
- me she hath lost her best man, and exhort all the world to be
- cowards; for I, that never feared any, am vanquished by famine,
- not by valour. [Dies]
- IDEN. How much thou wrong'st me, heaven be my judge.
- Die, damned wretch, the curse of her that bare thee!
- And as I thrust thy body in with my sword,
- So wish I, I might thrust thy soul to hell.
- Hence will I drag thee headlong by the heels
- Unto a dunghill, which shall be thy grave,
- And there cut off thy most ungracious head,
- Which I will bear in triumph to the King,
- Leaving thy trunk for crows to feed upon. Exit
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT V. SCENE I.
-Fields between Dartford and Blackheath
-
-Enter YORK, and his army of Irish, with drum and colours
-
- YORK. From Ireland thus comes York to claim his right
- And pluck the crown from feeble Henry's head:
- Ring bells aloud, burn bonfires clear and bright,
- To entertain great England's lawful king.
- Ah, sancta majestas! who would not buy thee dear?
- Let them obey that knows not how to rule;
- This hand was made to handle nought but gold.
- I cannot give due action to my words
- Except a sword or sceptre balance it.
- A sceptre shall it have, have I a soul
- On which I'll toss the flower-de-luce of France.
-
- Enter BUCKINGHAM
-
- [Aside] Whom have we here? Buckingham, to disturb me?
- The King hath sent him, sure: I must dissemble.
- BUCKINGHAM. York, if thou meanest well I greet thee well.
- YORK. Humphrey of Buckingham, I accept thy greeting.
- Art thou a messenger, or come of pleasure?
- BUCKINGHAM. A messenger from Henry, our dread liege,
- To know the reason of these arms in peace;
- Or why thou, being a subject as I am,
- Against thy oath and true allegiance sworn,
- Should raise so great a power without his leave,
- Or dare to bring thy force so near the court.
- YORK. [Aside] Scarce can I speak, my choler is so great.
- O, I could hew up rocks and fight with flint,
- I am so angry at these abject terms;
- And now, like Ajax Telamonius,
- On sheep or oxen could I spend my fury.
- I am far better born than is the King,
- More like a king, more kingly in my thoughts;
- But I must make fair weather yet awhile,
- Till Henry be more weak and I more strong.-
- Buckingham, I prithee, pardon me
- That I have given no answer all this while;
- My mind was troubled with deep melancholy.
- The cause why I have brought this army hither
- Is to remove proud Somerset from the King,
- Seditious to his Grace and to the state.
- BUCKINGHAM. That is too much presumption on thy part;
- But if thy arms be to no other end,
- The King hath yielded unto thy demand:
- The Duke of Somerset is in the Tower.
- YORK. Upon thine honour, is he prisoner?
- BUCKINGHAM. Upon mine honour, he is prisoner.
- YORK. Then, Buckingham, I do dismiss my pow'rs.
- Soldiers, I thank you all; disperse yourselves;
- Meet me to-morrow in Saint George's field,
- You shall have pay and everything you wish.
- And let my sovereign, virtuous Henry,
- Command my eldest son, nay, all my sons,
- As pledges of my fealty and love.
- I'll send them all as willing as I live:
- Lands, goods, horse, armour, anything I have,
- Is his to use, so Somerset may die.
- BUCKINGHAM. York, I commend this kind submission.
- We twain will go into his Highness' tent.
-
- Enter the KING, and attendants
-
- KING HENRY. Buckingham, doth York intend no harm to us,
- That thus he marcheth with thee arm in arm?
- YORK. In all submission and humility
- York doth present himself unto your Highness.
- KING HENRY. Then what intends these forces thou dost bring?
- YORK. To heave the traitor Somerset from hence,
- And fight against that monstrous rebel Cade,
- Who since I heard to be discomfited.
-
- Enter IDEN, with CADE's head
-
- IDEN. If one so rude and of so mean condition
- May pass into the presence of a king,
- Lo, I present your Grace a traitor's head,
- The head of Cade, whom I in combat slew.
- KING HENRY. The head of Cade! Great God, how just art Thou!
- O, let me view his visage, being dead,
- That living wrought me such exceeding trouble.
- Tell me, my friend, art thou the man that slew him?
- IDEN. I was, an't like your Majesty.
- KING HENRY. How art thou call'd? And what is thy degree?
- IDEN. Alexander Iden, that's my name;
- A poor esquire of Kent that loves his king.
- BUCKINGHAM. So please it you, my lord, 'twere not amiss
- He were created knight for his good service.
- KING HENRY. Iden, kneel down. [He kneels] Rise up a knight.
- We give thee for reward a thousand marks,
- And will that thou thenceforth attend on us.
- IDEN. May Iden live to merit such a bounty,
- And never live but true unto his liege!
-
- Enter the QUEEN and SOMERSET
-
- KING HENRY. See, Buckingham! Somerset comes with th' Queen:
- Go, bid her hide him quickly from the Duke.
- QUEEN. For thousand Yorks he shall not hide his head,
- But boldly stand and front him to his face.
- YORK. How now! Is Somerset at liberty?
- Then, York, unloose thy long-imprisoned thoughts
- And let thy tongue be equal with thy heart.
- Shall I endure the sight of Somerset?
- False king, why hast thou broken faith with me,
- Knowing how hardly I can brook abuse?
- King did I call thee? No, thou art not king;
- Not fit to govern and rule multitudes,
- Which dar'st not, no, nor canst not rule a traitor.
- That head of thine doth not become a crown;
- Thy hand is made to grasp a palmer's staff,
- And not to grace an awful princely sceptre.
- That gold must round engirt these brows of mine,
- Whose smile and frown, like to Achilles' spear,
- Is able with the change to kill and cure.
- Here is a hand to hold a sceptre up,
- And with the same to act controlling laws.
- Give place. By heaven, thou shalt rule no more
- O'er him whom heaven created for thy ruler.
- SOMERSET. O monstrous traitor! I arrest thee, York,
- Of capital treason 'gainst the King and crown.
- Obey, audacious traitor; kneel for grace.
- YORK. Wouldst have me kneel? First let me ask of these,
- If they can brook I bow a knee to man.
- Sirrah, call in my sons to be my bail: Exit attendant
- I know, ere thy will have me go to ward,
- They'll pawn their swords for my enfranchisement.
- QUEEN. Call hither Clifford; bid him come amain,
- To say if that the bastard boys of York
- Shall be the surety for their traitor father.
- Exit BUCKINGHAM
- YORK. O blood-bespotted Neapolitan,
- Outcast of Naples, England's bloody scourge!
- The sons of York, thy betters in their birth,
- Shall be their father's bail; and bane to those
- That for my surety will refuse the boys!
-
- Enter EDWARD and RICHARD PLANTAGENET
-
- See where they come: I'll warrant they'll make it good.
-
- Enter CLIFFORD and his SON
-
- QUEEN. And here comes Clifford to deny their bail.
- CLIFFORD. Health and all happiness to my lord the King!
- [Kneels]
- YORK. I thank thee, Clifford. Say, what news with thee?
- Nay, do not fright us with an angry look.
- We are thy sovereign, Clifford, kneel again;
- For thy mistaking so, we pardon thee.
- CLIFFORD. This is my King, York, I do not mistake;
- But thou mistakes me much to think I do.
- To Bedlam with him! Is the man grown mad?
- KING HENRY. Ay, Clifford; a bedlam and ambitious humour
- Makes him oppose himself against his king.
- CLIFFORD. He is a traitor; let him to the Tower,
- And chop away that factious pate of his.
- QUEEN. He is arrested, but will not obey;
- His sons, he says, shall give their words for him.
- YORK. Will you not, sons?
- EDWARD. Ay, noble father, if our words will serve.
- RICHARD. And if words will not, then our weapons shall.
- CLIFFORD. Why, what a brood of traitors have we here!
- YORK. Look in a glass, and call thy image so:
- I am thy king, and thou a false-heart traitor.
- Call hither to the stake my two brave bears,
- That with the very shaking of their chains
- They may astonish these fell-lurking curs.
- Bid Salisbury and Warwick come to me.
-
- Enter the EARLS OF WARWICK and SALISBURY
-
- CLIFFORD. Are these thy bears? We'll bait thy bears to death,
- And manacle the berard in their chains,
- If thou dar'st bring them to the baiting-place.
- RICHARD. Oft have I seen a hot o'er weening cur
- Run back and bite, because he was withheld;
- Who, being suffer'd, with the bear's fell paw,
- Hath clapp'd his tail between his legs and cried;
- And such a piece of service will you do,
- If you oppose yourselves to match Lord Warwick.
- CLIFFORD. Hence, heap of wrath, foul indigested lump,
- As crooked in thy manners as thy shape!
- YORK. Nay, we shall heat you thoroughly anon.
- CLIFFORD. Take heed, lest by your heat you burn yourselves.
- KING HENRY. Why, Warwick, hath thy knee forgot to bow?
- Old Salisbury, shame to thy silver hair,
- Thou mad misleader of thy brainsick son!
- What, wilt thou on thy death-bed play the ruffian
- And seek for sorrow with thy spectacles?
- O, where is faith? O, where is loyalty?
- If it be banish'd from the frosty head,
- Where shall it find a harbour in the earth?
- Wilt thou go dig a grave to find out war
- And shame thine honourable age with blood?
- Why art thou old, and want'st experience?
- Or wherefore dost abuse it, if thou hast it?
- For shame! In duty bend thy knee to me,
- That bows unto the grave with mickle age.
- SALISBURY. My lord, I have considered with myself
- The tide of this most renowned duke,
- And in my conscience do repute his Grace
- The rightful heir to England's royal seat.
- KING HENRY. Hast thou not sworn allegiance unto me?
- SALISBURY. I have.
- KING HENRY. Canst thou dispense with heaven for such an oath?
- SALISBURY. It is great sin to swear unto a sin;
- But greater sin to keep a sinful oath.
- Who can be bound by any solemn vow
- To do a murd'rous deed, to rob a man,
- To force a spotless virgin's chastity,
- To reave the orphan of his patrimony,
- To wring the widow from her custom'd right,
- And have no other reason for this wrong
- But that he was bound by a solemn oath?
- QUEEN. A subtle traitor needs no sophister.
- KING HENRY. Call Buckingham, and bid him arm himself.
- YORK. Call Buckingham, and all the friends thou hast,
- I am resolv'd for death or dignity.
- CLIFFORD. The first I warrant thee, if dreams prove true.
- WARWICK. You were best to go to bed and dream again
- To keep thee from the tempest of the field.
- CLIFFORD. I am resolv'd to bear a greater storm
- Than any thou canst conjure up to-day;
- And that I'll write upon thy burgonet,
- Might I but know thee by thy household badge.
- WARWICK. Now, by my father's badge, old Nevil's crest,
- The rampant bear chain'd to the ragged staff,
- This day I'll wear aloft my burgonet,
- As on a mountain-top the cedar shows,
- That keeps his leaves in spite of any storm,
- Even to affright thee with the view thereof.
- CLIFFORD. And from thy burgonet I'll rend thy bear
- And tread it under foot with all contempt,
- Despite the berard that protects the bear.
- YOUNG CLIFFORD. And so to arms, victorious father,
- To quell the rebels and their complices.
- RICHARD. Fie! charity, for shame! Speak not in spite,
- For you shall sup with Jesu Christ to-night.
- YOUNG CLIFFORD. Foul stigmatic, that's more than thou canst tell.
- RICHARD. If not in heaven, you'll surely sup in hell.
- Exeunt severally
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-Saint Albans
-
-Alarums to the battle. Enter WARWICK
-
- WARWICK. Clifford of Cumberland, 'tis Warwick calls;
- And if thou dost not hide thee from the bear,
- Now, when the angry trumpet sounds alarum
- And dead men's cries do fill the empty air,
- Clifford, I say, come forth and fight with me.
- Proud northern lord, Clifford of Cumberland,
- WARWICK is hoarse with calling thee to arms.
-
- Enter YORK
-
- How now, my noble lord! what, all a-foot?
- YORK. The deadly-handed Clifford slew my steed;
- But match to match I have encount'red him,
- And made a prey for carrion kites and crows
- Even of the bonny beast he lov'd so well.
-
- Enter OLD CLIFFORD
-
- WARWICK. Of one or both of us the time is come.
- YORK. Hold, Warwick, seek thee out some other chase,
- For I myself must hunt this deer to death.
- WARWICK. Then, nobly, York; 'tis for a crown thou fight'st.
- As I intend, Clifford, to thrive to-day,
- It grieves my soul to leave thee unassail'd. Exit
- CLIFFORD. What seest thou in me, York? Why dost thou pause?
- YORK. With thy brave bearing should I be in love
- But that thou art so fast mine enemy.
- CLIFFORD. Nor should thy prowess want praise and esteem
- But that 'tis shown ignobly and in treason.
- YORK. So let it help me now against thy sword,
- As I in justice and true right express it!
- CLIFFORD. My soul and body on the action both!
- YORK. A dreadful lay! Address thee instantly.
- [They fight and CLIFFORD falls]
- CLIFFORD. La fin couronne les oeuvres. [Dies]
- YORK. Thus war hath given thee peace, for thou art still.
- Peace with his soul, heaven, if it be thy will! Exit
-
- Enter YOUNG CLIFFORD
-
- YOUNG CLIFFORD. Shame and confusion! All is on the rout;
- Fear frames disorder, and disorder wounds
- Where it should guard. O war, thou son of hell,
- Whom angry heavens do make their minister,
- Throw in the frozen bosoms of our part
- Hot coals of vengeance! Let no soldier fly.
- He that is truly dedicate to war
- Hath no self-love; nor he that loves himself
- Hath not essentially, but by circumstance,
- The name of valour. [Sees his father's body]
- O, let the vile world end
- And the premised flames of the last day
- Knit earth and heaven together!
- Now let the general trumpet blow his blast,
- Particularities and petty sounds
- To cease! Wast thou ordain'd, dear father,
- To lose thy youth in peace and to achieve
- The silver livery of advised age,
- And in thy reverence and thy chair-days thus
- To die in ruffian battle? Even at this sight
- My heart is turn'd to stone; and while 'tis mine
- It shall be stony. York not our old men spares;
- No more will I their babes. Tears virginal
- Shall be to me even as the dew to fire;
- And beauty, that the tyrant oft reclaims,
- Shall to my flaming wrath be oil and flax.
- Henceforth I will not have to do with pity:
- Meet I an infant of the house of York,
- Into as many gobbets will I cut it
- As wild Medea young Absyrtus did;
- In cruelty will I seek out my fame.
- Come, thou new ruin of old Clifford's house;
- As did Aeneas old Anchises bear,
- So bear I thee upon my manly shoulders;
- But then Aeneas bare a living load,
- Nothing so heavy as these woes of mine.
- Exit with the body
-
- Enter RICHARD and SOMERSET to fight. SOMERSET is killed
-
- RICHARD. So, lie thou there;
- For underneath an alehouse' paltry sign,
- The Castle in Saint Albans, Somerset
- Hath made the wizard famous in his death.
- Sword, hold thy temper; heart, be wrathful still:
- Priests pray for enemies, but princes kill. Exit
-
- Fight. Excursions. Enter KING, QUEEN, and others
-
- QUEEN. Away, my lord! You are slow; for shame, away!
- KING HENRY. Can we outrun the heavens? Good Margaret, stay.
- QUEEN. What are you made of? You'll nor fight nor fly.
- Now is it manhood, wisdom, and defence,
- To give the enemy way, and to secure us
- By what we can, which can no more but fly.
- [Alarum afar off]
- If you be ta'en, we then should see the bottom
- Of all our fortunes; but if we haply scape-
- As well we may, if not through your neglect-
- We shall to London get, where you are lov'd,
- And where this breach now in our fortunes made
- May readily be stopp'd.
-
- Re-enter YOUNG CLIFFORD
-
- YOUNG CLIFFORD. But that my heart's on future mischief set,
- I would speak blasphemy ere bid you fly;
- But fly you must; uncurable discomfit
- Reigns in the hearts of all our present parts.
- Away, for your relief! and we will live
- To see their day and them our fortune give.
- Away, my lord, away! Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-Fields near Saint Albans
-
-Alarum. Retreat. Enter YORK, RICHARD, WARWICK, and soldiers,
-with drum and colours
-
- YORK. Of Salisbury, who can report of him,
- That winter lion, who in rage forgets
- Aged contusions and all brush of time
- And, like a gallant in the brow of youth,
- Repairs him with occasion? This happy day
- Is not itself, nor have we won one foot,
- If Salisbury be lost.
- RICHARD. My noble father,
- Three times to-day I holp him to his horse,
- Three times bestrid him, thrice I led him off,
- Persuaded him from any further act;
- But still where danger was, still there I met him;
- And like rich hangings in a homely house,
- So was his will in his old feeble body.
- But, noble as he is, look where he comes.
-
- Enter SALISBURY
-
- SALISBURY. Now, by my sword, well hast thou fought to-day!
- By th' mass, so did we all. I thank you, Richard:
- God knows how long it is I have to live,
- And it hath pleas'd Him that three times to-day
- You have defended me from imminent death.
- Well, lords, we have not got that which we have;
- 'Tis not enough our foes are this time fled,
- Being opposites of such repairing nature.
- YORK. I know our safety is to follow them;
- For, as I hear, the King is fled to London
- To call a present court of Parliament.
- Let us pursue him ere the writs go forth.
- What says Lord Warwick? Shall we after them?
- WARWICK. After them? Nay, before them, if we can.
- Now, by my faith, lords, 'twas a glorious day:
- Saint Albans' battle, won by famous York,
- Shall be eterniz'd in all age to come.
- Sound drum and trumpets and to London all;
- And more such days as these to us befall! Exeunt
-
-
-THE END
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-
-
-1591
-
-THE THIRD PART OF KING HENRY THE SIXTH
-
-by William Shakespeare
-
-
-
-DRAMATIS PERSONAE
-
- KING HENRY THE SIXTH
- EDWARD, PRINCE OF WALES, his son
- LEWIS XI, King of France DUKE OF SOMERSET
- DUKE OF EXETER EARL OF OXFORD
- EARL OF NORTHUMBERLAND EARL OF WESTMORELAND
- LORD CLIFFORD
- RICHARD PLANTAGENET, DUKE OF YORK
- EDWARD, EARL OF MARCH, afterwards KING EDWARD IV, his son
- EDMUND, EARL OF RUTLAND, his son
- GEORGE, afterwards DUKE OF CLARENCE, his son
- RICHARD, afterwards DUKE OF GLOUCESTER, his son
- DUKE OF NORFOLK MARQUIS OF MONTAGUE
- EARL OF WARWICK EARL OF PEMBROKE
- LORD HASTINGS LORD STAFFORD
- SIR JOHN MORTIMER, uncle to the Duke of York
- SIR HUGH MORTIMER, uncle to the Duke of York
- HENRY, EARL OF RICHMOND, a youth
- LORD RIVERS, brother to Lady Grey
- SIR WILLIAM STANLEY SIR JOHN MONTGOMERY
- SIR JOHN SOMERVILLE TUTOR, to Rutland
- MAYOR OF YORK LIEUTENANT OF THE TOWER
- A NOBLEMAN TWO KEEPERS
- A HUNTSMAN
- A SON that has killed his father
- A FATHER that has killed his son
-
- QUEEN MARGARET
- LADY GREY, afterwards QUEEN to Edward IV
- BONA, sister to the French Queen
-
- Soldiers, Attendants, Messengers, Watchmen, etc.
-
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-SCENE:
-England and France
-
-ACT I. SCENE I.
-London. The Parliament House
-
-Alarum. Enter DUKE OF YORK, EDWARD, RICHARD, NORFOLK, MONTAGUE, WARWICK,
-and soldiers, with white roses in their hats
-
- WARWICK. I wonder how the King escap'd our hands.
- YORK. While we pursu'd the horsemen of the north,
- He slily stole away and left his men;
- Whereat the great Lord of Northumberland,
- Whose warlike ears could never brook retreat,
- Cheer'd up the drooping army, and himself,
- Lord Clifford, and Lord Stafford, all abreast,
- Charg'd our main battle's front, and, breaking in,
- Were by the swords of common soldiers slain.
- EDWARD. Lord Stafford's father, Duke of Buckingham,
- Is either slain or wounded dangerous;
- I cleft his beaver with a downright blow.
- That this is true, father, behold his blood.
- MONTAGUE. And, brother, here's the Earl of Wiltshire's blood,
- Whom I encount'red as the battles join'd.
- RICHARD. Speak thou for me, and tell them what I did.
- [Throwing down SOMERSET'S head]
- YORK. Richard hath best deserv'd of all my sons.
- But is your Grace dead, my Lord of Somerset?
- NORFOLK. Such hope have all the line of John of Gaunt!
- RICHARD. Thus do I hope to shake King Henry's head.
- WARWICK. And so do I. Victorious Prince of York,
- Before I see thee seated in that throne
- Which now the house of Lancaster usurps,
- I vow by heaven these eyes shall never close.
- This is the palace of the fearful King,
- And this the regal seat. Possess it, York;
- For this is thine, and not King Henry's heirs'.
- YORK. Assist me then, sweet Warwick, and I will;
- For hither we have broken in by force.
- NORFOLK. We'll all assist you; he that flies shall die.
- YORK. Thanks, gentle Norfolk. Stay by me, my lords;
- And, soldiers, stay and lodge by me this night.
- [They go up]
- WARWICK. And when the King comes, offer him no violence.
- Unless he seek to thrust you out perforce.
- YORK. The Queen this day here holds her parliament,
- But little thinks we shall be of her council.
- By words or blows here let us win our right.
- RICHARD. Arm'd as we are, let's stay within this house.
- WARWICK. The bloody parliament shall this be call'd,
- Unless Plantagenet, Duke of York, be King,
- And bashful Henry depos'd, whose cowardice
- Hath made us by-words to our enemies.
- YORK. Then leave me not, my lords; be resolute:
- I mean to take possession of my right.
- WARWICK. Neither the King, nor he that loves him best,
- The proudest he that holds up Lancaster,
- Dares stir a wing if Warwick shake his bells.
- I'll plant Plantagenet, root him up who dares.
- Resolve thee, Richard; claim the English crown.
- [YORK occupies the throne]
-
- Flourish. Enter KING HENRY, CLIFFORD, NORTHUMBERLAND,
- WESTMORELAND, EXETER, and others, with red roses in
- their hats
-
- KING HENRY. My lords, look where the sturdy rebel sits,
- Even in the chair of state! Belike he means,
- Back'd by the power of Warwick, that false peer,
- To aspire unto the crown and reign as king.
- Earl of Northumberland, he slew thy father;
- And thine, Lord Clifford; and you both have vow'd revenge
- On him, his sons, his favourites, and his friends.
- NORTHUMBERLAND. If I be not, heavens be reveng'd on me!
- CLIFFORD. The hope thereof makes Clifford mourn in steel.
- WESTMORELAND. What, shall we suffer this? Let's pluck him down;
- My heart for anger burns; I cannot brook it.
- KING HENRY. Be patient, gentle Earl of Westmoreland.
- CLIFFORD. Patience is for poltroons such as he;
- He durst not sit there had your father liv'd.
- My gracious lord, here in the parliament
- Let us assail the family of York.
- NORTHUMBERLAND. Well hast thou spoken, cousin; be it so.
- KING HENRY. Ah, know you not the city favours them,
- And they have troops of soldiers at their beck?
- EXETER. But when the Duke is slain they'll quickly fly.
- KING HENRY. Far be the thought of this from Henry's heart,
- To make a shambles of the parliament house!
- Cousin of Exeter, frowns, words, and threats,
- Shall be the war that Henry means to use.
- Thou factious Duke of York, descend my throne
- And kneel for grace and mercy at my feet;
- I am thy sovereign.
- YORK. I am thine.
- EXETER. For shame, come down; he made thee Duke of York.
- YORK. 'Twas my inheritance, as the earldom was.
- EXETER. Thy father was a traitor to the crown.
- WARWICK. Exeter, thou art a traitor to the crown
- In following this usurping Henry.
- CLIFFORD. Whom should he follow but his natural king?
- WARWICK. True, Clifford; and that's Richard Duke of York.
- KING HENRY. And shall I stand, and thou sit in my throne?
- YORK. It must and shall be so; content thyself.
- WARWICK. Be Duke of Lancaster; let him be King.
- WESTMORELAND. He is both King and Duke of Lancaster;
- And that the Lord of Westmoreland shall maintain.
- WARWICK. And Warwick shall disprove it. You forget
- That we are those which chas'd you from the field,
- And slew your fathers, and with colours spread
- March'd through the city to the palace gates.
- NORTHUMBERLAND. Yes, Warwick, I remember it to my grief;
- And, by his soul, thou and thy house shall rue it.
- WESTMORELAND. Plantagenet, of thee, and these thy sons,
- Thy kinsmen, and thy friends, I'll have more lives
- Than drops of blood were in my father's veins.
- CLIFFORD. Urge it no more; lest that instead of words
- I send thee, Warwick, such a messenger
- As shall revenge his death before I stir.
- WARWICK. Poor Clifford, how I scorn his worthless threats!
- YORK. Will you we show our title to the crown?
- If not, our swords shall plead it in the field.
- KING HENRY. What title hast thou, traitor, to the crown?
- Thy father was, as thou art, Duke of York;
- Thy grandfather, Roger Mortimer, Earl of March:
- I am the son of Henry the Fifth,
- Who made the Dauphin and the French to stoop,
- And seiz'd upon their towns and provinces.
- WARWICK. Talk not of France, sith thou hast lost it all.
- KING HENRY. The Lord Protector lost it, and not I:
- When I was crown'd, I was but nine months old.
- RICHARD. You are old enough now, and yet methinks you lose.
- Father, tear the crown from the usurper's head.
- EDWARD. Sweet father, do so; set it on your head.
- MONTAGUE. Good brother, as thou lov'st and honourest arms,
- Let's fight it out and not stand cavilling thus.
- RICHARD. Sound drums and trumpets, and the King will fly.
- YORK. Sons, peace!
- KING HENRY. Peace thou! and give King Henry leave to speak.
- WARWICK. Plantagenet shall speak first. Hear him, lords;
- And be you silent and attentive too,
- For he that interrupts him shall not live.
- KING HENRY. Think'st thou that I will leave my kingly throne,
- Wherein my grandsire and my father sat?
- No; first shall war unpeople this my realm;
- Ay, and their colours, often borne in France,
- And now in England to our heart's great sorrow,
- Shall be my winding-sheet. Why faint you, lords?
- My title's good, and better far than his.
- WARWICK. Prove it, Henry, and thou shalt be King.
- KING HENRY. Henry the Fourth by conquest got the crown.
- YORK. 'Twas by rebellion against his king.
- KING HENRY. [Aside] I know not what to say; my title's weak.-
- Tell me, may not a king adopt an heir?
- YORK. What then?
- KING HENRY. An if he may, then am I lawful King;
- For Richard, in the view of many lords,
- Resign'd the crown to Henry the Fourth,
- Whose heir my father was, and I am his.
- YORK. He rose against him, being his sovereign,
- And made him to resign his crown perforce.
- WARWICK. Suppose, my lords, he did it unconstrain'd,
- Think you 'twere prejudicial to his crown?
- EXETER. No; for he could not so resign his crown
- But that the next heir should succeed and reign.
- KING HENRY. Art thou against us, Duke of Exeter?
- EXETER. His is the right, and therefore pardon me.
- YORK. Why whisper you, my lords, and answer not?
- EXETER. My conscience tells me he is lawful King.
- KING HENRY. [Aside] All will revolt from me, and turn to him.
- NORTHUMBERLAND. Plantagenet, for all the claim thou lay'st,
- Think not that Henry shall be so depos'd.
- WARWICK. Depos'd he shall be, in despite of all.
- NORTHUMBERLAND. Thou art deceiv'd. 'Tis not thy southern power
- Of Essex, Norfolk, Suffolk, nor of Kent,
- Which makes thee thus presumptuous and proud,
- Can set the Duke up in despite of me.
- CLIFFORD. King Henry, be thy title right or wrong,
- Lord Clifford vows to fight in thy defence.
- May that ground gape, and swallow me alive,
- Where I shall kneel to him that slew my father!
- KING HENRY. O Clifford, how thy words revive my heart!
- YORK. Henry of Lancaster, resign thy crown.
- What mutter you, or what conspire you, lords?
- WARWICK. Do right unto this princely Duke of York;
- Or I will fill the house with armed men,
- And over the chair of state, where now he sits,
- Write up his title with usurping blood.
- [He stamps with his foot and the
- soldiers show themselves]
- KING HENRY. My Lord of Warwick, hear but one word:
- Let me for this my life-time reign as king.
- YORK. Confirm the crown to me and to mine heirs,
- And thou shalt reign in quiet while thou liv'st.
- KING HENRY. I am content. Richard Plantagenet,
- Enjoy the kingdom after my decease.
- CLIFFORD. What wrong is this unto the Prince your son!
- WARWICK. What good is this to England and himself!
- WESTMORELAND. Base, fearful, and despairing Henry!
- CLIFFORD. How hast thou injur'd both thyself and or us!
- WESTMORELAND. I cannot stay to hear these articles.
- NORTHUMBERLAND. Nor I.
- CLIFFORD. Come, cousin, let us tell the Queen these news.
- WESTMORELAND. Farewell, faint-hearted and degenerate king,
- In whose cold blood no spark of honour bides.
- NORTHUMBERLAND. Be thou a prey unto the house of York
- And die in bands for this unmanly deed!
- CLIFFORD. In dreadful war mayst thou be overcome,
- Or live in peace abandon'd and despis'd!
- Exeunt NORTHUMBERLAND, CLIFFORD,
- and WESTMORELAND
- WARWICK. Turn this way, Henry, and regard them not.
- EXETER. They seek revenge, and therefore will not yield.
- KING HENRY. Ah, Exeter!
- WARWICK. Why should you sigh, my lord?
- KING HENRY. Not for myself, Lord Warwick, but my son,
- Whom I unnaturally shall disinherit.
- But be it as it may. [To YORK] I here entail
- The crown to thee and to thine heirs for ever;
- Conditionally, that here thou take an oath
- To cease this civil war, and, whilst I live,
- To honour me as thy king and sovereign,
- And neither by treason nor hostility
- To seek to put me down and reign thyself.
- YORK. This oath I willingly take, and will perform.
- [Coming from the throne]
- WARWICK. Long live King Henry! Plantagenet, embrace him.
- KING HENRY. And long live thou, and these thy forward sons!
- YORK. Now York and Lancaster are reconcil'd.
- EXETER. Accurs'd be he that seeks to make them foes!
- [Sennet. Here they come down]
- YORK. Farewell, my gracious lord; I'll to my castle.
- WARWICK. And I'll keep London with my soldiers.
- NORFOLK. And I to Norfolk with my followers.
- MONTAGUE. And I unto the sea, from whence I came.
- Exeunt the YORKISTS
- KING HENRY. And I, with grief and sorrow, to the court.
-
- Enter QUEEN MARGARET and the PRINCE OF WALES
-
- EXETER. Here comes the Queen, whose looks bewray her anger.
- I'll steal away.
- KING HENRY. Exeter, so will I.
- QUEEN MARGARET. Nay, go not from me; I will follow thee.
- KING HENRY. Be patient, gentle queen, and I will stay.
- QUEEN MARGARET. Who can be patient in such extremes?
- Ah, wretched man! Would I had died a maid,
- And never seen thee, never borne thee son,
- Seeing thou hast prov'd so unnatural a father!
- Hath he deserv'd to lose his birthright thus?
- Hadst thou but lov'd him half so well as I,
- Or felt that pain which I did for him once,
- Or nourish'd him as I did with my blood,
- Thou wouldst have left thy dearest heart-blood there
- Rather than have made that savage duke thine heir,
- And disinherited thine only son.
- PRINCE OF WALES. Father, you cannot disinherit me.
- If you be King, why should not I succeed?
- KING HENRY. Pardon me, Margaret; pardon me, sweet son.
- The Earl of Warwick and the Duke enforc'd me.
- QUEEN MARGARET. Enforc'd thee! Art thou King and wilt be
- forc'd?
- I shame to hear thee speak. Ah, timorous wretch!
- Thou hast undone thyself, thy son, and me;
- And giv'n unto the house of York such head
- As thou shalt reign but by their sufferance.
- To entail him and his heirs unto the crown,
- What is it but to make thy sepulchre
- And creep into it far before thy time?
- Warwick is Chancellor and the lord of Calais;
- Stern Falconbridge commands the narrow seas;
- The Duke is made Protector of the realm;
- And yet shalt thou be safe? Such safety finds
- The trembling lamb environed with wolves.
- Had I been there, which am a silly woman,
- The soldiers should have toss'd me on their pikes
- Before I would have granted to that act.
- But thou prefer'st thy life before thine honour;
- And seeing thou dost, I here divorce myself,
- Both from thy table, Henry, and thy bed,
- Until that act of parliament be repeal'd
- Whereby my son is disinherited.
- The northern lords that have forsworn thy colours
- Will follow mine, if once they see them spread;
- And spread they shall be, to thy foul disgrace
- And utter ruin of the house of York.
- Thus do I leave thee. Come, son, let's away;
- Our army is ready; come, we'll after them.
- KING HENRY. Stay, gentle Margaret, and hear me speak.
- QUEEN MARGARET. Thou hast spoke too much already; get thee gone.
- KING HENRY. Gentle son Edward, thou wilt stay with me?
- QUEEN MARGARET. Ay, to be murder'd by his enemies.
- PRINCE OF WALES. When I return with victory from the field
- I'll see your Grace; till then I'll follow her.
- QUEEN MARGARET. Come, son, away; we may not linger thus.
- Exeunt QUEEN MARGARET and the PRINCE
- KING HENRY. Poor queen! How love to me and to her son
- Hath made her break out into terms of rage!
- Reveng'd may she be on that hateful Duke,
- Whose haughty spirit, winged with desire,
- Will cost my crown, and like an empty eagle
- Tire on the flesh of me and of my son!
- The loss of those three lords torments my heart.
- I'll write unto them, and entreat them fair;
- Come, cousin, you shall be the messenger.
- EXETER. And I, I hope, shall reconcile them all. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-Sandal Castle, near Wakefield, in Yorkshire
-
-Flourish. Enter EDWARD, RICHARD, and MONTAGUE
-
- RICHARD. Brother, though I be youngest, give me leave.
- EDWARD. No, I can better play the orator.
- MONTAGUE. But I have reasons strong and forcible.
-
- Enter the DUKE OF YORK
-
- YORK. Why, how now, sons and brother! at a strife?
- What is your quarrel? How began it first?
- EDWARD. No quarrel, but a slight contention.
- YORK. About what?
- RICHARD. About that which concerns your Grace and us-
- The crown of England, father, which is yours.
- YORK. Mine, boy? Not till King Henry be dead.
- RICHARD. Your right depends not on his life or death.
- EDWARD. Now you are heir, therefore enjoy it now.
- By giving the house of Lancaster leave to breathe,
- It will outrun you, father, in the end.
- YORK. I took an oath that he should quietly reign.
- EDWARD. But for a kingdom any oath may be broken:
- I would break a thousand oaths to reign one year.
- RICHARD. No; God forbid your Grace should be forsworn.
- YORK. I shall be, if I claim by open war.
- RICHARD. I'll prove the contrary, if you'll hear me speak.
- YORK. Thou canst not, son; it is impossible.
- RICHARD. An oath is of no moment, being not took
- Before a true and lawful magistrate
- That hath authority over him that swears.
- Henry had none, but did usurp the place;
- Then, seeing 'twas he that made you to depose,
- Your oath, my lord, is vain and frivolous.
- Therefore, to arms. And, father, do but think
- How sweet a thing it is to wear a crown,
- Within whose circuit is Elysium
- And all that poets feign of bliss and joy.
- Why do we linger thus? I cannot rest
- Until the white rose that I wear be dy'd
- Even in the lukewarm blood of Henry's heart.
- YORK. Richard, enough; I will be King, or die.
- Brother, thou shalt to London presently
- And whet on Warwick to this enterprise.
- Thou, Richard, shalt to the Duke of Norfolk
- And tell him privily of our intent.
- You, Edward, shall unto my Lord Cobham,
- With whom the Kentishmen will willingly rise;
- In them I trust, for they are soldiers,
- Witty, courteous, liberal, full of spirit.
- While you are thus employ'd, what resteth more
- But that I seek occasion how to rise,
- And yet the King not privy to my drift,
- Nor any of the house of Lancaster?
-
- Enter a MESSENGER
-
- But, stay. What news? Why com'st thou in such post?
- MESSENGER. The Queen with all the northern earls and lords
- Intend here to besiege you in your castle.
- She is hard by with twenty thousand men;
- And therefore fortify your hold, my lord.
- YORK. Ay, with my sword. What! think'st thou that we fear them?
- Edward and Richard, you shall stay with me;
- My brother Montague shall post to London.
- Let noble Warwick, Cobham, and the rest,
- Whom we have left protectors of the King,
- With pow'rful policy strengthen themselves
- And trust not simple Henry nor his oaths.
- MONTAGUE. Brother, I go; I'll win them, fear it not.
- And thus most humbly I do take my leave. Exit
-
- Enter SIR JOHN and SIR HUGH MORTIMER
-
- YORK. Sir john and Sir Hugh Mortimer, mine uncles!
- You are come to Sandal in a happy hour;
- The army of the Queen mean to besiege us.
- SIR JOHN. She shall not need; we'll meet her in the field.
- YORK. What, with five thousand men?
- RICHARD. Ay, with five hundred, father, for a need.
- A woman's general; what should we fear?
- [A march afar off]
- EDWARD. I hear their drums. Let's set our men in order,
- And issue forth and bid them battle straight.
- YORK. Five men to twenty! Though the odds be great,
- I doubt not, uncle, of our victory.
- Many a battle have I won in France,
- When as the enemy hath been ten to one;
- Why should I not now have the like success? Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-Field of battle between Sandal Castle and Wakefield
-
-Alarum. Enter RUTLAND and his TUTOR
-
- RUTLAND. Ah, whither shall I fly to scape their hands?
- Ah, tutor, look where bloody Clifford comes!
-
- Enter CLIFFORD and soldiers
-
- CLIFFORD. Chaplain, away! Thy priesthood saves thy life.
- As for the brat of this accursed duke,
- Whose father slew my father, he shall die.
- TUTOR. And I, my lord, will bear him company.
- CLIFFORD. Soldiers, away with him!
- TUTOR. Ah, Clifford, murder not this innocent child,
- Lest thou be hated both of God and man.
- Exit, forced off by soldiers
- CLIFFORD. How now, is he dead already? Or is it fear
- That makes him close his eyes? I'll open them.
- RUTLAND. So looks the pent-up lion o'er the wretch
- That trembles under his devouring paws;
- And so he walks, insulting o'er his prey,
- And so he comes, to rend his limbs asunder.
- Ah, gentle Clifford, kill me with thy sword,
- And not with such a cruel threat'ning look!
- Sweet Clifford, hear me speak before I die.
- I am too mean a subject for thy wrath;
- Be thou reveng'd on men, and let me live.
- CLIFFORD. In vain thou speak'st, poor boy; my father's blood
- Hath stopp'd the passage where thy words should enter.
- RUTLAND. Then let my father's blood open it again:
- He is a man, and, Clifford, cope with him.
- CLIFFORD. Had I thy brethren here, their lives and thine
- Were not revenge sufficient for me;
- No, if I digg'd up thy forefathers' graves
- And hung their rotten coffins up in chains,
- It could not slake mine ire nor ease my heart.
- The sight of any of the house of York
- Is as a fury to torment my soul;
- And till I root out their accursed line
- And leave not one alive, I live in hell.
- Therefore-
- RUTLAND. O, let me pray before I take my death!
- To thee I pray: sweet Clifford, pity me.
- CLIFFORD. Such pity as my rapier's point affords.
- RUTLAND. I never did thee harm; why wilt thou slay me?
- CLIFFORD. Thy father hath.
- RUTLAND. But 'twas ere I was born.
- Thou hast one son; for his sake pity me,
- Lest in revenge thereof, sith God is just,
- He be as miserably slain as I.
- Ah, let me live in prison all my days;
- And when I give occasion of offence
- Then let me die, for now thou hast no cause.
- CLIFFORD. No cause!
- Thy father slew my father; therefore, die. [Stabs him]
- RUTLAND. Di faciant laudis summa sit ista tuae! [Dies]
- CLIFFORD. Plantagenet, I come, Plantagenet;
- And this thy son's blood cleaving to my blade
- Shall rust upon my weapon, till thy blood,
- Congeal'd with this, do make me wipe off both. Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE IV.
-Another part of the field
-
-Alarum. Enter the DUKE OF YORK
-
- YORK. The army of the Queen hath got the field.
- My uncles both are slain in rescuing me;
- And all my followers to the eager foe
- Turn back and fly, like ships before the wind,
- Or lambs pursu'd by hunger-starved wolves.
- My sons- God knows what hath bechanced them;
- But this I know- they have demean'd themselves
- Like men born to renown by life or death.
- Three times did Richard make a lane to me,
- And thrice cried 'Courage, father! fight it out.'
- And full as oft came Edward to my side
- With purple falchion, painted to the hilt
- In blood of those that had encount'red him.
- And when the hardiest warriors did retire,
- Richard cried 'Charge, and give no foot of ground!'
- And cried 'A crown, or else a glorious tomb!
- A sceptre, or an earthly sepulchre!'
- With this we charg'd again; but out alas!
- We bodg'd again; as I have seen a swan
- With bootless labour swim against the tide
- And spend her strength with over-matching waves.
- [A short alarum within]
- Ah, hark! The fatal followers do pursue,
- And I am faint and cannot fly their fury;
- And were I strong, I would not shun their fury.
- The sands are numb'red that make up my life;
- Here must I stay, and here my life must end.
-
- Enter QUEEN MARGARET, CLIFFORD, NORTHUMBERLAND,
- the PRINCE OF WALES, and soldiers
-
- Come, bloody Clifford, rough Northumberland,
- I dare your quenchless fury to more rage;
- I am your butt, and I abide your shot.
- NORTHUMBERLAND. Yield to our mercy, proud Plantagenet.
- CLIFFORD. Ay, to such mercy as his ruthless arm
- With downright payment show'd unto my father.
- Now Phaethon hath tumbled from his car,
- And made an evening at the noontide prick.
- YORK. My ashes, as the phoenix, may bring forth
- A bird that will revenge upon you all;
- And in that hope I throw mine eyes to heaven,
- Scorning whate'er you can afflict me with.
- Why come you not? What! multitudes, and fear?
- CLIFFORD. So cowards fight when they can fly no further;
- So doves do peck the falcon's piercing talons;
- So desperate thieves, all hopeless of their lives,
- Breathe out invectives 'gainst the officers.
- YORK. O Clifford, but bethink thee once again,
- And in thy thought o'errun my former time;
- And, if thou canst for blushing, view this face,
- And bite thy tongue that slanders him with cowardice
- Whose frown hath made thee faint and fly ere this!
- CLIFFORD. I will not bandy with thee word for word,
- But buckler with thee blows, twice two for one.
- QUEEN MARGARET. Hold, valiant Clifford; for a thousand causes
- I would prolong awhile the traitor's life.
- Wrath makes him deaf; speak thou, Northumberland.
- NORTHUMBERLAND. Hold, Clifford! do not honour him so much
- To prick thy finger, though to wound his heart.
- What valour were it, when a cur doth grin,
- For one to thrust his hand between his teeth,
- When he might spurn him with his foot away?
- It is war's prize to take all vantages;
- And ten to one is no impeach of valour.
- [They lay hands on YORK, who struggles]
- CLIFFORD. Ay, ay, so strives the woodcock with the gin.
- NORTHUMBERLAND. So doth the cony struggle in the net.
- YORK. So triumph thieves upon their conquer'd booty;
- So true men yield, with robbers so o'er-match'd.
- NORTHUMBERLAND. What would your Grace have done unto him now?
- QUEEN MARGARET. Brave warriors, Clifford and Northumberland,
- Come, make him stand upon this molehill here
- That raught at mountains with outstretched arms,
- Yet parted but the shadow with his hand.
- What, was it you that would be England's king?
- Was't you that revell'd in our parliament
- And made a preachment of your high descent?
- Where are your mess of sons to back you now?
- The wanton Edward and the lusty George?
- And where's that valiant crook-back prodigy,
- Dicky your boy, that with his grumbling voice
- Was wont to cheer his dad in mutinies?
- Or, with the rest, where is your darling Rutland?
- Look, York: I stain'd this napkin with the blood
- That valiant Clifford with his rapier's point
- Made issue from the bosom of the boy;
- And if thine eyes can water for his death,
- I give thee this to dry thy cheeks withal.
- Alas, poor York! but that I hate thee deadly,
- I should lament thy miserable state.
- I prithee grieve to make me merry, York.
- What, hath thy fiery heart so parch'd thine entrails
- That not a tear can fall for Rutland's death?
- Why art thou patient, man? Thou shouldst be mad;
- And I to make thee mad do mock thee thus.
- Stamp, rave, and fret, that I may sing and dance.
- Thou wouldst be fee'd, I see, to make me sport;
- York cannot speak unless he wear a crown.
- A crown for York!-and, lords, bow low to him.
- Hold you his hands whilst I do set it on.
- [Putting a paper crown on his head]
- Ay, marry, sir, now looks he like a king!
- Ay, this is he that took King Henry's chair,
- And this is he was his adopted heir.
- But how is it that great Plantagenet
- Is crown'd so soon and broke his solemn oath?
- As I bethink me, you should not be King
- Till our King Henry had shook hands with death.
- And will you pale your head in Henry's glory,
- And rob his temples of the diadem,
- Now in his life, against your holy oath?
- O, 'tis a fault too too
- Off with the crown and with the crown his head;
- And, whilst we breathe, take time to do him dead.
- CLIFFORD. That is my office, for my father's sake.
- QUEEN MARGARET. Nay, stay; let's hear the orisons he makes.
- YORK. She-wolf of France, but worse than wolves of France,
- Whose tongue more poisons than the adder's tooth!
- How ill-beseeming is it in thy sex
- To triumph like an Amazonian trull
- Upon their woes whom fortune captivates!
- But that thy face is visard-like, unchanging,
- Made impudent with use of evil deeds,
- I would assay, proud queen, to make thee blush.
- To tell thee whence thou cam'st, of whom deriv'd,
- Were shame enough to shame thee, wert thou not shameless.
- Thy father bears the type of King of Naples,
- Of both the Sicils and Jerusalem,
- Yet not so wealthy as an English yeoman.
- Hath that poor monarch taught thee to insult?
- It needs not, nor it boots thee not, proud queen;
- Unless the adage must be verified,
- That beggars mounted run their horse to death.
- 'Tis beauty that doth oft make women proud;
- But, God He knows, thy share thereof is small.
- 'Tis virtue that doth make them most admir'd;
- The contrary doth make thee wond'red at.
- 'Tis government that makes them seem divine;
- The want thereof makes thee abominable.
- Thou art as opposite to every good
- As the Antipodes are unto us,
- Or as the south to the septentrion.
- O tiger's heart wrapp'd in a woman's hide!
- How couldst thou drain the life-blood of the child,
- To bid the father wipe his eyes withal,
- And yet be seen to bear a woman's face?
- Women are soft, mild, pitiful, and flexible:
- Thou stern, obdurate, flinty, rough, remorseless.
- Bid'st thou me rage? Why, now thou hast thy wish;
- Wouldst have me weep? Why, now thou hast thy will;
- For raging wind blows up incessant showers,
- And when the rage allays, the rain begins.
- These tears are my sweet Rutland's obsequies;
- And every drop cries vengeance for his death
- 'Gainst thee, fell Clifford, and thee, false Frenchwoman.
- NORTHUMBERLAND. Beshrew me, but his passions move me so
- That hardly can I check my eyes from tears.
- YORK. That face of his the hungry cannibals
- Would not have touch'd, would not have stain'd with blood;
- But you are more inhuman, more inexorable-
- O, ten times more- than tigers of Hyrcania.
- See, ruthless queen, a hapless father's tears.
- This cloth thou dipp'dst in blood of my sweet boy,
- And I with tears do wash the blood away.
- Keep thou the napkin, and go boast of this;
- And if thou tell'st the heavy story right,
- Upon my soul, the hearers will shed tears;
- Yea, even my foes will shed fast-falling tears
- And say 'Alas, it was a piteous deed!'
- There, take the crown, and with the crown my curse;
- And in thy need such comfort come to thee
- As now I reap at thy too cruel hand!
- Hard-hearted Clifford, take me from the world;
- My soul to heaven, my blood upon your heads!
- NORTHUMBERLAND. Had he been slaughter-man to all my kin,
- I should not for my life but weep with him,
- To see how inly sorrow gripes his soul.
- QUEEN MARGARET. What, weeping-ripe, my Lord Northumberland?
- Think but upon the wrong he did us all,
- And that will quickly dry thy melting tears.
- CLIFFORD. Here's for my oath, here's for my father's death.
- [Stabbing him]
- QUEEN MARGARET. And here's to right our gentle-hearted king.
- [Stabbing him]
- YORK. Open Thy gate of mercy, gracious God!
- My soul flies through these wounds to seek out Thee.
- [Dies]
- QUEEN MARGARET. Off with his head, and set it on York gates;
- So York may overlook the town of York.
- Flourish. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
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-
-ACT II. SCENE I.
-A plain near Mortimer's Cross in Herefordshire
-
-A march. Enter EDWARD, RICHARD, and their power
-
- EDWARD. I wonder how our princely father scap'd,
- Or whether he be scap'd away or no
- From Clifford's and Northumberland's pursuit.
- Had he been ta'en, we should have heard the news;
- Had he been slain, we should have heard the news;
- Or had he scap'd, methinks we should have heard
- The happy tidings of his good escape.
- How fares my brother? Why is he so sad?
- RICHARD. I cannot joy until I be resolv'd
- Where our right valiant father is become.
- I saw him in the battle range about,
- And watch'd him how he singled Clifford forth.
- Methought he bore him in the thickest troop
- As doth a lion in a herd of neat;
- Or as a bear, encompass'd round with dogs,
- Who having pinch'd a few and made them cry,
- The rest stand all aloof and bark at him.
- So far'd our father with his enemies;
- So fled his enemies my warlike father.
- Methinks 'tis prize enough to be his son.
- See how the morning opes her golden gates
- And takes her farewell of the glorious sun.
- How well resembles it the prime of youth,
- Trimm'd like a younker prancing to his love!
- EDWARD. Dazzle mine eyes, or do I see three suns?
- RICHARD. Three glorious suns, each one a perfect sun;
- Not separated with the racking clouds,
- But sever'd in a pale clear-shining sky.
- See, see! they join, embrace, and seem to kiss,
- As if they vow'd some league inviolable.
- Now are they but one lamp, one light, one sun.
- In this the heaven figures some event.
- EDWARD. 'Tis wondrous strange, the like yet never heard of.
- I think it cites us, brother, to the field,
- That we, the sons of brave Plantagenet,
- Each one already blazing by our meeds,
- Should notwithstanding join our lights together
- And overshine the earth, as this the world.
- Whate'er it bodes, henceforward will I bear
- Upon my target three fair shining suns.
- RICHARD. Nay, bear three daughters- by your leave I speak it,
- You love the breeder better than the male.
-
- Enter a MESSENGER, blowing
-
- But what art thou, whose heavy looks foretell
- Some dreadful story hanging on thy tongue?
- MESSENGER. Ah, one that was a woeful looker-on
- When as the noble Duke of York was slain,
- Your princely father and my loving lord!
- EDWARD. O, speak no more! for I have heard too much.
- RICHARD. Say how he died, for I will hear it all.
- MESSENGER. Environed he was with many foes,
- And stood against them as the hope of Troy
- Against the Greeks that would have ent'red Troy.
- But Hercules himself must yield to odds;
- And many strokes, though with a little axe,
- Hews down and fells the hardest-timber'd oak.
- By many hands your father was subdu'd;
- But only slaught'red by the ireful arm
- Of unrelenting Clifford and the Queen,
- Who crown'd the gracious Duke in high despite,
- Laugh'd in his face; and when with grief he wept,
- The ruthless Queen gave him to dry his cheeks
- A napkin steeped in the harmless blood
- Of sweet young Rutland, by rough Clifford slain;
- And after many scorns, many foul taunts,
- They took his head, and on the gates of York
- They set the same; and there it doth remain,
- The saddest spectacle that e'er I view'd.
- EDWARD. Sweet Duke of York, our prop to lean upon,
- Now thou art gone, we have no staff, no stay.
- O Clifford, boist'rous Clifford, thou hast slain
- The flow'r of Europe for his chivalry;
- And treacherously hast thou vanquish'd him,
- For hand to hand he would have vanquish'd thee.
- Now my soul's palace is become a prison.
- Ah, would she break from hence, that this my body
- Might in the ground be closed up in rest!
- For never henceforth shall I joy again;
- Never, O never, shall I see more joy.
- RICHARD. I cannot weep, for all my body's moisture
- Scarce serves to quench my furnace-burning heart;
- Nor can my tongue unload my heart's great burden,
- For self-same wind that I should speak withal
- Is kindling coals that fires all my breast,
- And burns me up with flames that tears would quench.
- To weep is to make less the depth of grief.
- Tears then for babes; blows and revenge for me!
- Richard, I bear thy name; I'll venge thy death,
- Or die renowned by attempting it.
- EDWARD. His name that valiant duke hath left with thee;
- His dukedom and his chair with me is left.
- RICHARD. Nay, if thou be that princely eagle's bird,
- Show thy descent by gazing 'gainst the sun;
- For chair and dukedom, throne and kingdom, say:
- Either that is thine, or else thou wert not his.
-
- March. Enter WARWICK, MONTAGUE, and their army
-
- WARWICK. How now, fair lords! What fare? What news abroad?
- RICHARD. Great Lord of Warwick, if we should recount
- Our baleful news and at each word's deliverance
- Stab poinards in our flesh till all were told,
- The words would add more anguish than the wounds.
- O valiant lord, the Duke of York is slain!
- EDWARD. O Warwick, Warwick! that Plantagenet
- Which held thee dearly as his soul's redemption
- Is by the stern Lord Clifford done to death.
- WARWICK. Ten days ago I drown'd these news in tears;
- And now, to add more measure to your woes,
- I come to tell you things sith then befall'n.
- After the bloody fray at Wakefield fought,
- Where your brave father breath'd his latest gasp,
- Tidings, as swiftly as the posts could run,
- Were brought me of your loss and his depart.
- I, then in London, keeper of the King,
- Muster'd my soldiers, gathered flocks of friends,
- And very well appointed, as I thought,
- March'd toward Saint Albans to intercept the Queen,
- Bearing the King in my behalf along;
- For by my scouts I was advertised
- That she was coming with a full intent
- To dash our late decree in parliament
- Touching King Henry's oath and your succession.
- Short tale to make- we at Saint Albans met,
- Our battles join'd, and both sides fiercely fought;
- But whether 'twas the coldness of the King,
- Who look'd full gently on his warlike queen,
- That robb'd my soldiers of their heated spleen,
- Or whether 'twas report of her success,
- Or more than common fear of Clifford's rigour,
- Who thunders to his captives blood and death,
- I cannot judge; but, to conclude with truth,
- Their weapons like to lightning came and went:
- Our soldiers', like the night-owl's lazy flight
- Or like an idle thresher with a flail,
- Fell gently down, as if they struck their friends.
- I cheer'd them up with justice of our cause,
- With promise of high pay and great rewards,
- But all in vain; they had no heart to fight,
- And we in them no hope to win the day;
- So that we fled: the King unto the Queen;
- Lord George your brother, Norfolk, and myself,
- In haste post-haste are come to join with you;
- For in the marches here we heard you were
- Making another head to fight again.
- EDWARD. Where is the Duke of Norfolk, gentle Warwick?
- And when came George from Burgundy to England?
- WARWICK. Some six miles off the Duke is with the soldiers;
- And for your brother, he was lately sent
- From your kind aunt, Duchess of Burgundy,
- With aid of soldiers to this needful war.
- RICHARD. 'Twas odds, belike, when valiant Warwick fled.
- Oft have I heard his praises in pursuit,
- But ne'er till now his scandal of retire.
- WARWICK. Nor now my scandal, Richard, dost thou hear;
- For thou shalt know this strong right hand of mine
- Can pluck the diadem from faint Henry's head
- And wring the awful sceptre from his fist,
- Were he as famous and as bold in war
- As he is fam'd for mildness, peace, and prayer.
- RICHARD. I know it well, Lord Warwick; blame me not.
- 'Tis love I bear thy glories makes me speak.
- But in this troublous time what's to be done?
- Shall we go throw away our coats of steel
- And wrap our bodies in black mourning-gowns,
- Numbering our Ave-Maries with our beads?
- Or shall we on the helmets of our foes
- Tell our devotion with revengeful arms?
- If for the last, say 'Ay,' and to it, lords.
- WARWICK. Why, therefore Warwick came to seek you out;
- And therefore comes my brother Montague.
- Attend me, lords. The proud insulting Queen,
- With Clifford and the haught Northumberland,
- And of their feather many moe proud birds,
- Have wrought the easy-melting King like wax.
- He swore consent to your succession,
- His oath enrolled in the parliament;
- And now to London all the crew are gone
- To frustrate both his oath and what beside
- May make against the house of Lancaster.
- Their power, I think, is thirty thousand strong.
- Now if the help of Norfolk and myself,
- With all the friends that thou, brave Earl of March,
- Amongst the loving Welshmen canst procure,
- Will but amount to five and twenty thousand,
- Why, Via! to London will we march amain,
- And once again bestride our foaming steeds,
- And once again cry 'Charge upon our foes!'
- But never once again turn back and fly.
- RICHARD. Ay, now methinks I hear great Warwick speak.
- Ne'er may he live to see a sunshine day
- That cries 'Retire!' if Warwick bid him stay.
- EDWARD. Lord Warwick, on thy shoulder will I lean;
- And when thou fail'st- as God forbid the hour!-
- Must Edward fall, which peril heaven forfend.
- WARWICK. No longer Earl of March, but Duke of York;
- The next degree is England's royal throne,
- For King of England shalt thou be proclaim'd
- In every borough as we pass along;
- And he that throws not up his cap for joy
- Shall for the fault make forfeit of his head.
- King Edward, valiant Richard, Montague,
- Stay we no longer, dreaming of renown,
- But sound the trumpets and about our task.
- RICHARD. Then, Clifford, were thy heart as hard as steel,
- As thou hast shown it flinty by thy deeds,
- I come to pierce it or to give thee mine.
- EDWARD. Then strike up drums. God and Saint George for us!
-
- Enter a MESSENGER
-
- WARWICK. How now! what news?
- MESSENGER. The Duke of Norfolk sends you word by me
- The Queen is coming with a puissant host,
- And craves your company for speedy counsel.
- WARWICK. Why, then it sorts; brave warriors, let's away.
- Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-Before York
-
-Flourish. Enter KING HENRY, QUEEN MARGARET, the PRINCE OF WALES, CLIFFORD,
-NORTHUMBERLAND, with drum and trumpets
-
- QUEEN MARGARET. Welcome, my lord, to this brave town of York.
- Yonder's the head of that arch-enemy
- That sought to be encompass'd with your crown.
- Doth not the object cheer your heart, my lord?
- KING HENRY. Ay, as the rocks cheer them that fear their wreck-
- To see this sight, it irks my very soul.
- Withhold revenge, dear God; 'tis not my fault,
- Nor wittingly have I infring'd my vow.
- CLIFFORD. My gracious liege, this too much lenity
- And harmful pity must be laid aside.
- To whom do lions cast their gentle looks?
- Not to the beast that would usurp their den.
- Whose hand is that the forest bear doth lick?
- Not his that spoils her young before her face.
- Who scapes the lurking serpent's mortal sting?
- Not he that sets his foot upon her back,
- The smallest worm will turn, being trodden on,
- And doves will peck in safeguard of their brood.
- Ambitious York did level at thy crown,
- Thou smiling while he knit his angry brows.
- He, but a Duke, would have his son a king,
- And raise his issue like a loving sire:
- Thou, being a king, bless'd with a goodly son,
- Didst yield consent to disinherit him,
- Which argued thee a most unloving father.
- Unreasonable creatures feed their young;
- And though man's face be fearful to their eyes,
- Yet, in protection of their tender ones,
- Who hath not seen them- even with those wings
- Which sometime they have us'd with fearful flight-
- Make war with him that climb'd unto their nest,
- Offering their own lives in their young's defence
- For shame, my liege, make them your precedent!
- Were it not pity that this goodly boy
- Should lose his birthright by his father's fault,
- And long hereafter say unto his child
- 'What my great-grandfather and grandsire got
- My careless father fondly gave away'?
- Ah, what a shame were this! Look on the boy;
- And let his manly face, which promiseth
- Successful fortune, steel thy melting heart
- To hold thine own and leave thine own with him.
- KING HENRY. Full well hath Clifford play'd the orator,
- Inferring arguments of mighty force.
- But, Clifford, tell me, didst thou never hear
- That things ill got had ever bad success?
- And happy always was it for that son
- Whose father for his hoarding went to hell?
- I'll leave my son my virtuous deeds behind;
- And would my father had left me no more!
- For all the rest is held at such a rate
- As brings a thousand-fold more care to keep
- Than in possession any jot of pleasure.
- Ah, cousin York! would thy best friends did know
- How it doth grieve me that thy head is here!
- QUEEN MARGARET. My lord, cheer up your spirits; our foes are nigh,
- And this soft courage makes your followers faint.
- You promis'd knighthood to our forward son:
- Unsheathe your sword and dub him presently.
- Edward, kneel down.
- KING HENRY. Edward Plantagenet, arise a knight;
- And learn this lesson: Draw thy sword in right.
- PRINCE OF WALES. My gracious father, by your kingly leave,
- I'll draw it as apparent to the crown,
- And in that quarrel use it to the death.
- CLIFFORD. Why, that is spoken like a toward prince.
-
- Enter a MESSENGER
-
- MESSENGER. Royal commanders, be in readiness;
- For with a band of thirty thousand men
- Comes Warwick, backing of the Duke of York,
- And in the towns, as they do march along,
- Proclaims him king, and many fly to him.
- Darraign your battle, for they are at hand.
- CLIFFORD. I would your Highness would depart the field:
- The Queen hath best success when you are absent.
- QUEEN MARGARET. Ay, good my lord, and leave us to our fortune.
- KING HENRY. Why, that's my fortune too; therefore I'll stay.
- NORTHUMBERLAND. Be it with resolution, then, to fight.
- PRINCE OF WALES. My royal father, cheer these noble lords,
- And hearten those that fight in your defence.
- Unsheathe your sword, good father; cry 'Saint George!'
-
- March. Enter EDWARD, GEORGE, RICHARD, WARWICK,
- NORFOLK, MONTAGUE, and soldiers
-
- EDWARD. Now, perjur'd Henry, wilt thou kneel for grace
- And set thy diadem upon my head,
- Or bide the mortal fortune of the field?
- QUEEN MARGARET. Go rate thy minions, proud insulting boy.
- Becomes it thee to be thus bold in terms
- Before thy sovereign and thy lawful king?
- EDWARD. I am his king, and he should bow his knee.
- I was adopted heir by his consent:
- Since when, his oath is broke; for, as I hear,
- You that are King, though he do wear the crown,
- Have caus'd him by new act of parliament
- To blot out me and put his own son in.
- CLIFFORD. And reason too:
- Who should succeed the father but the son?
- RICHARD. Are you there, butcher? O, I cannot speak!
- CLIFFORD. Ay, crook-back, here I stand to answer thee,
- Or any he, the proudest of thy sort.
- RICHARD. 'Twas you that kill'd young Rutland, was it not?
- CLIFFORD. Ay, and old York, and yet not satisfied.
- RICHARD. For God's sake, lords, give signal to the fight.
- WARWICK. What say'st thou, Henry? Wilt thou yield the crown?
- QUEEN MARGARET. Why, how now, long-tongu'd Warwick! Dare you speak?
- When you and I met at Saint Albans last
- Your legs did better service than your hands.
- WARWICK. Then 'twas my turn to fly, and now 'tis thine.
- CLIFFORD. You said so much before, and yet you fled.
- WARWICK. 'Twas not your valour, Clifford, drove me thence.
- NORTHUMBERLAND. No, nor your manhood that durst make you stay.
- RICHARD. Northumberland, I hold thee reverently.
- Break off the parley; for scarce I can refrain
- The execution of my big-swol'n heart
- Upon that Clifford, that cruel child-killer.
- CLIFFORD. I slew thy father; call'st thou him a child?
- RICHARD. Ay, like a dastard and a treacherous coward,
- As thou didst kill our tender brother Rutland;
- But ere sunset I'll make thee curse the deed.
- KING HENRY. Have done with words, my lords, and hear me speak.
- QUEEN MARGARET. Defy them then, or else hold close thy lips.
- KING HENRY. I prithee give no limits to my tongue:
- I am a king, and privileg'd to speak.
- CLIFFORD. My liege, the wound that bred this meeting here
- Cannot be cur'd by words; therefore be still.
- RICHARD. Then, executioner, unsheathe thy sword.
- By Him that made us all, I am resolv'd
- That Clifford's manhood lies upon his tongue.
- EDWARD. Say, Henry, shall I have my right, or no?
- A thousand men have broke their fasts to-day
- That ne'er shall dine unless thou yield the crown.
- WARWICK. If thou deny, their blood upon thy head;
- For York in justice puts his armour on.
- PRINCE OF WALES. If that be right which Warwick says is right,
- There is no wrong, but every thing is right.
- RICHARD. Whoever got thee, there thy mother stands;
- For well I wot thou hast thy mother's tongue.
- QUEEN MARGARET. But thou art neither like thy sire nor dam;
- But like a foul misshapen stigmatic,
- Mark'd by the destinies to be avoided,
- As venom toads or lizards' dreadful stings.
- RICHARD. Iron of Naples hid with English gilt,
- Whose father bears the title of a king-
- As if a channel should be call'd the sea-
- Sham'st thou not, knowing whence thou art extraught,
- To let thy tongue detect thy base-born heart?
- EDWARD. A wisp of straw were worth a thousand crowns
- To make this shameless callet know herself.
- Helen of Greece was fairer far than thou,
- Although thy husband may be Menelaus;
- And ne'er was Agamemmon's brother wrong'd
- By that false woman as this king by thee.
- His father revell'd in the heart of France,
- And tam'd the King, and made the Dauphin stoop;
- And had he match'd according to his state,
- He might have kept that glory to this day;
- But when he took a beggar to his bed
- And grac'd thy poor sire with his bridal day,
- Even then that sunshine brew'd a show'r for him
- That wash'd his father's fortunes forth of France
- And heap'd sedition on his crown at home.
- For what hath broach'd this tumult but thy pride?
- Hadst thou been meek, our title still had slept;
- And we, in pity of the gentle King,
- Had slipp'd our claim until another age.
- GEORGE. But when we saw our sunshine made thy spring,
- And that thy summer bred us no increase,
- We set the axe to thy usurping root;
- And though the edge hath something hit ourselves,
- Yet know thou, since we have begun to strike,
- We'll never leave till we have hewn thee down,
- Or bath'd thy growing with our heated bloods.
- EDWARD. And in this resolution I defy thee;
- Not willing any longer conference,
- Since thou deniest the gentle King to speak.
- Sound trumpets; let our bloody colours wave,
- And either victory or else a grave!
- QUEEN MARGARET. Stay, Edward.
- EDWARD. No, wrangling woman, we'll no longer stay;
- These words will cost ten thousand lives this day.
- Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-A field of battle between Towton and Saxton, in Yorkshire
-
-Alarum; excursions. Enter WARWICK
-
- WARWICK. Forspent with toil, as runners with a race,
- I lay me down a little while to breathe;
- For strokes receiv'd and many blows repaid
- Have robb'd my strong-knit sinews of their strength,
- And spite of spite needs must I rest awhile.
-
- Enter EDWARD, running
-
- EDWARD. Smile, gentle heaven, or strike, ungentle death;
- For this world frowns, and Edward's sun is clouded.
- WARWICK. How now, my lord. What hap? What hope of good?
-
- Enter GEORGE
-
- GEORGE. Our hap is lost, our hope but sad despair;
- Our ranks are broke, and ruin follows us.
- What counsel give you? Whither shall we fly?
- EDWARD. Bootless is flight: they follow us with wings;
- And weak we are, and cannot shun pursuit.
-
- Enter RICHARD
-
- RICHARD. Ah, Warwick, why hast thou withdrawn thyself?
- Thy brother's blood the thirsty earth hath drunk,
- Broach'd with the steely point of Clifford's lance;
- And in the very pangs of death he cried,
- Like to a dismal clangor heard from far,
- 'Warwick, revenge! Brother, revenge my death.'
- So, underneath the belly of their steeds,
- That stain'd their fetlocks in his smoking blood,
- The noble gentleman gave up the ghost.
- WARWICK. Then let the earth be drunken with our blood.
- I'll kill my horse, because I will not fly.
- Why stand we like soft-hearted women here,
- Wailing our losses, whiles the foe doth rage,
- And look upon, as if the tragedy
- Were play'd in jest by counterfeiting actors?
- Here on my knee I vow to God above
- I'll never pause again, never stand still,
- Till either death hath clos'd these eyes of mine
- Or fortune given me measure of revenge.
- EDWARD. O Warwick, I do bend my knee with thine,
- And in this vow do chain my soul to thine!
- And ere my knee rise from the earth's cold face
- I throw my hands, mine eyes, my heart to Thee,
- Thou setter-up and plucker-down of kings,
- Beseeching Thee, if with Thy will it stands
- That to my foes this body must be prey,
- Yet that Thy brazen gates of heaven may ope
- And give sweet passage to my sinful soul.
- Now, lords, take leave until we meet again,
- Where'er it be, in heaven or in earth.
- RICHARD. Brother, give me thy hand; and, gentle Warwick,
- Let me embrace thee in my weary arms.
- I that did never weep now melt with woe
- That winter should cut off our spring-time so.
- WARWICK. Away, away! Once more, sweet lords, farewell.
- GEORGE. Yet let us all together to our troops,
- And give them leave to fly that will not stay,
- And call them pillars that will stand to us;
- And if we thrive, promise them such rewards
- As victors wear at the Olympian games.
- This may plant courage in their quailing breasts,
- For yet is hope of life and victory.
- Forslow no longer; make we hence amain. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE IV.
-Another part of the field
-
-Excursions. Enter RICHARD and CLIFFORD
-
- RICHARD. Now, Clifford, I have singled thee alone.
- Suppose this arm is for the Duke of York,
- And this for Rutland; both bound to revenge,
- Wert thou environ'd with a brazen wall.
- CLIFFORD. Now, Richard, I am with thee here alone.
- This is the hand that stabbed thy father York;
- And this the hand that slew thy brother Rutland;
- And here's the heart that triumphs in their death
- And cheers these hands that slew thy sire and brother
- To execute the like upon thyself;
- And so, have at thee! [They fight]
-
- Enter WARWICK; CLIFFORD flies
-
- RICHARD. Nay, Warwick, single out some other chase;
- For I myself will hunt this wolf to death. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE V.
-Another part of the field
-
-Alarum. Enter KING HENRY alone
-
- KING HENRY. This battle fares like to the morning's war,
- When dying clouds contend with growing light,
- What time the shepherd, blowing of his nails,
- Can neither call it perfect day nor night.
- Now sways it this way, like a mighty sea
- Forc'd by the tide to combat with the wind;
- Now sways it that way, like the selfsame sea
- Forc'd to retire by fury of the wind.
- Sometime the flood prevails, and then the wind;
- Now one the better, then another best;
- Both tugging to be victors, breast to breast,
- Yet neither conqueror nor conquered.
- So is the equal poise of this fell war.
- Here on this molehill will I sit me down.
- To whom God will, there be the victory!
- For Margaret my queen, and Clifford too,
- Have chid me from the battle, swearing both
- They prosper best of all when I am thence.
- Would I were dead, if God's good will were so!
- For what is in this world but grief and woe?
- O God! methinks it were a happy life
- To be no better than a homely swain;
- To sit upon a hill, as I do now,
- To carve out dials quaintly, point by point,
- Thereby to see the minutes how they run-
- How many makes the hour full complete,
- How many hours brings about the day,
- How many days will finish up the year,
- How many years a mortal man may live.
- When this is known, then to divide the times-
- So many hours must I tend my flock;
- So many hours must I take my rest;
- So many hours must I contemplate;
- So many hours must I sport myself;
- So many days my ewes have been with young;
- So many weeks ere the poor fools will can;
- So many years ere I shall shear the fleece:
- So minutes, hours, days, months, and years,
- Pass'd over to the end they were created,
- Would bring white hairs unto a quiet grave.
- Ah, what a life were this! how sweet! how lovely!
- Gives not the hawthorn bush a sweeter shade
- To shepherds looking on their silly sheep,
- Than doth a rich embroider'd canopy
- To kings that fear their subjects' treachery?
- O yes, it doth; a thousand-fold it doth.
- And to conclude: the shepherd's homely curds,
- His cold thin drink out of his leather bottle,
- His wonted sleep under a fresh tree's shade,
- All which secure and sweetly he enjoys,
- Is far beyond a prince's delicates-
- His viands sparkling in a golden cup,
- His body couched in a curious bed,
- When care, mistrust, and treason waits on him.
-
- Alarum. Enter a son that hath kill'd his Father, at
- one door; and a FATHER that hath kill'd his Son, at
- another door
-
- SON. Ill blows the wind that profits nobody.
- This man whom hand to hand I slew in fight
- May be possessed with some store of crowns;
- And I, that haply take them from him now,
- May yet ere night yield both my life and them
- To some man else, as this dead man doth me.
- Who's this? O God! It is my father's face,
- Whom in this conflict I unwares have kill'd.
- O heavy times, begetting such events!
- From London by the King was I press'd forth;
- My father, being the Earl of Warwick's man,
- Came on the part of York, press'd by his master;
- And I, who at his hands receiv'd my life,
- Have by my hands of life bereaved him.
- Pardon me, God, I knew not what I did.
- And pardon, father, for I knew not thee.
- My tears shall wipe away these bloody marks;
- And no more words till they have flow'd their fill.
- KING HENRY. O piteous spectacle! O bloody times!
- Whiles lions war and battle for their dens,
- Poor harmless lambs abide their enmity.
- Weep, wretched man; I'll aid thee tear for tear;
- And let our hearts and eyes, like civil war,
- Be blind with tears and break o'ercharg'd with grief.
-
- Enter FATHER, bearing of his SON
-
- FATHER. Thou that so stoutly hath resisted me,
- Give me thy gold, if thou hast any gold;
- For I have bought it with an hundred blows.
- But let me see. Is this our foeman's face?
- Ah, no, no, no, no, it is mine only son!
- Ah, boy, if any life be left in thee,
- Throw up thine eye! See, see what show'rs arise,
- Blown with the windy tempest of my heart
- Upon thy wounds, that kills mine eye and heart!
- O, pity, God, this miserable age!
- What stratagems, how fell, how butcherly,
- Erroneous, mutinous, and unnatural,
- This deadly quarrel daily doth beget!
- O boy, thy father gave thee life too soon,
- And hath bereft thee of thy life too late!
- KING HENRY. Woe above woe! grief more than common grief!
- O that my death would stay these ruthful deeds!
- O pity, pity, gentle heaven, pity!
- The red rose and the white are on his face,
- The fatal colours of our striving houses:
- The one his purple blood right well resembles;
- The other his pale cheeks, methinks, presenteth.
- Wither one rose, and let the other flourish!
- If you contend, a thousand lives must perish.
- SON. How will my mother for a father's death
- Take on with me, and ne'er be satisfied!
- FATHER. How will my wife for slaughter of my son
- Shed seas of tears, and ne'er be satisfied!
- KING HENRY. How will the country for these woeful chances
- Misthink the King, and not be satisfied!
- SON. Was ever son so rued a father's death?
- FATHER. Was ever father so bemoan'd his son?
- KING HENRY. Was ever king so griev'd for subjects' woe?
- Much is your sorrow; mine ten times so much.
- SON. I'll bear thee hence, where I may weep my fill.
- Exit with the body
- FATHER. These arms of mine shall be thy winding-sheet;
- My heart, sweet boy, shall be thy sepulchre,
- For from my heart thine image ne'er shall go;
- My sighing breast shall be thy funeral bell;
- And so obsequious will thy father be,
- Even for the loss of thee, having no more,
- As Priam was for all his valiant sons.
- I'll bear thee hence; and let them fight that will,
- For I have murdered where I should not kill.
- Exit with the body
- KING HENRY. Sad-hearted men, much overgone with care,
- Here sits a king more woeful than you are.
-
- Alarums, excursions. Enter QUEEN MARGARET,
- PRINCE OF WALES, and EXETER
-
- PRINCE OF WALES. Fly, father, fly; for all your friends are fled,
- And Warwick rages like a chafed bull.
- Away! for death doth hold us in pursuit.
- QUEEN MARGARET. Mount you, my lord; towards Berwick post amain.
- Edward and Richard, like a brace of greyhounds
- Having the fearful flying hare in sight,
- With fiery eyes sparkling for very wrath,
- And bloody steel grasp'd in their ireful hands,
- Are at our backs; and therefore hence amain.
- EXETER. Away! for vengeance comes along with them.
- Nay, stay not to expostulate; make speed;
- Or else come after. I'll away before.
- KING HENRY. Nay, take me with thee, good sweet Exeter.
- Not that I fear to stay, but love to go
- Whither the Queen intends. Forward; away! Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE VI.
-Another part of the field
-
-A loud alarum. Enter CLIFFORD, wounded
-
- CLIFFORD. Here burns my candle out; ay, here it dies,
- Which, whiles it lasted, gave King Henry light.
- O Lancaster, I fear thy overthrow
- More than my body's parting with my soul!
- My love and fear glu'd many friends to thee;
- And, now I fall, thy tough commixture melts,
- Impairing Henry, strength'ning misproud York.
- The common people swarm like summer flies;
- And whither fly the gnats but to the sun?
- And who shines now but Henry's enemies?
- O Phoebus, hadst thou never given consent
- That Phaethon should check thy fiery steeds,
- Thy burning car never had scorch'd the earth!
- And, Henry, hadst thou sway'd as kings should do,
- Or as thy father and his father did,
- Giving no ground unto the house of York,
- They never then had sprung like summer flies;
- I and ten thousand in this luckless realm
- Had left no mourning widows for our death;
- And thou this day hadst kept thy chair in peace.
- For what doth cherish weeds but gentle air?
- And what makes robbers bold but too much lenity?
- Bootless are plaints, and cureless are my wounds.
- No way to fly, nor strength to hold out flight.
- The foe is merciless and will not pity;
- For at their hands I have deserv'd no pity.
- The air hath got into my deadly wounds,
- And much effuse of blood doth make me faint.
- Come, York and Richard, Warwick and the rest;
- I stabb'd your fathers' bosoms: split my breast.
- [He faints]
-
- Alarum and retreat. Enter EDWARD, GEORGE, RICHARD
- MONTAGUE, WARWICK, and soldiers
-
- EDWARD. Now breathe we, lords. Good fortune bids us pause
- And smooth the frowns of war with peaceful looks.
- Some troops pursue the bloody-minded Queen
- That led calm Henry, though he were a king,
- As doth a sail, fill'd with a fretting gust,
- Command an argosy to stern the waves.
- But think you, lords, that Clifford fled with them?
- WARWICK. No, 'tis impossible he should escape;
- For, though before his face I speak the words,
- Your brother Richard mark'd him for the grave;
- And, whereso'er he is, he's surely dead.
- [CLIFFORD groans, and dies]
- RICHARD. Whose soul is that which takes her heavy leave?
- A deadly groan, like life and death's departing.
- See who it is.
- EDWARD. And now the battle's ended,
- If friend or foe, let him be gently used.
- RICHARD. Revoke that doom of mercy, for 'tis Clifford;
- Who not contented that he lopp'd the branch
- In hewing Rutland when his leaves put forth,
- But set his murd'ring knife unto the root
- From whence that tender spray did sweetly spring-
- I mean our princely father, Duke of York.
- WARWICK. From off the gates of York fetch down the head,
- Your father's head, which Clifford placed there;
- Instead whereof let this supply the room.
- Measure for measure must be answered.
- EDWARD. Bring forth that fatal screech-owl to our house,
- That nothing sung but death to us and ours.
- Now death shall stop his dismal threat'ning sound,
- And his ill-boding tongue no more shall speak.
- WARWICK. I think his understanding is bereft.
- Speak, Clifford, dost thou know who speaks to thee?
- Dark cloudy death o'ershades his beams of life,
- And he nor sees nor hears us what we say.
- RICHARD. O, would he did! and so, perhaps, he doth.
- 'Tis but his policy to counterfeit,
- Because he would avoid such bitter taunts
- Which in the time of death he gave our father.
- GEORGE. If so thou think'st, vex him with eager words.
- RICHARD. Clifford, ask mercy and obtain no grace.
- EDWARD. Clifford, repent in bootless penitence.
- WARWICK. Clifford, devise excuses for thy faults.
- GEORGE. While we devise fell tortures for thy faults.
- RICHARD. Thou didst love York, and I am son to York.
- EDWARD. Thou pitied'st Rutland, I will pity thee.
- GEORGE. Where's Captain Margaret, to fence you now?
- WARWICK. They mock thee, Clifford; swear as thou wast wont.
- RICHARD. What, not an oath? Nay, then the world goes hard
- When Clifford cannot spare his friends an oath.
- I know by that he's dead; and by my soul,
- If this right hand would buy two hours' life,
- That I in all despite might rail at him,
- This hand should chop it off, and with the issuing blood
- Stifle the villain whose unstanched thirst
- York and young Rutland could not satisfy.
- WARWICK. Ay, but he's dead. Off with the traitor's head,
- And rear it in the place your father's stands.
- And now to London with triumphant march,
- There to be crowned England's royal King;
- From whence shall Warwick cut the sea to France,
- And ask the Lady Bona for thy queen.
- So shalt thou sinew both these lands together;
- And, having France thy friend, thou shalt not dread
- The scatt'red foe that hopes to rise again;
- For though they cannot greatly sting to hurt,
- Yet look to have them buzz to offend thine ears.
- First will I see the coronation;
- And then to Brittany I'll cross the sea
- To effect this marriage, so it please my lord.
- EDWARD. Even as thou wilt, sweet Warwick, let it be;
- For in thy shoulder do I build my seat,
- And never will I undertake the thing
- Wherein thy counsel and consent is wanting.
- Richard, I will create thee Duke of Gloucester;
- And George, of Clarence; Warwick, as ourself,
- Shall do and undo as him pleaseth best.
- RICHARD. Let me be Duke of Clarence, George of Gloucester;
- For Gloucester's dukedom is too ominous.
- WARWICK. Tut, that's a foolish observation.
- Richard, be Duke of Gloucester. Now to London
- To see these honours in possession. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
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-
-ACT III. SCENE I.
-A chase in the north of England
-
-Enter two KEEPERS, with cross-bows in their hands
-
- FIRST KEEPER. Under this thick-grown brake we'll shroud ourselves,
- For through this laund anon the deer will come;
- And in this covert will we make our stand,
- Culling the principal of all the deer.
- SECOND KEEPER. I'll stay above the hill, so both may shoot.
- FIRST KEEPER. That cannot be; the noise of thy cross-bow
- Will scare the herd, and so my shoot is lost.
- Here stand we both, and aim we at the best;
- And, for the time shall not seem tedious,
- I'll tell thee what befell me on a day
- In this self-place where now we mean to stand.
- SECOND KEEPER. Here comes a man; let's stay till he be past.
-
- Enter KING HENRY, disguised, with a prayer-book
-
- KING HENRY. From Scotland am I stol'n, even of pure love,
- To greet mine own land with my wishful sight.
- No, Harry, Harry, 'tis no land of thine;
- Thy place is fill'd, thy sceptre wrung from thee,
- Thy balm wash'd off wherewith thou wast anointed.
- No bending knee will call thee Caesar now,
- No humble suitors press to speak for right,
- No, not a man comes for redress of thee;
- For how can I help them and not myself?
- FIRST KEEPER. Ay, here's a deer whose skin's a keeper's fee.
- This is the quondam King; let's seize upon him.
- KING HENRY. Let me embrace thee, sour adversity,
- For wise men say it is the wisest course.
- SECOND KEEPER. Why linger we? let us lay hands upon him.
- FIRST KEEPER. Forbear awhile; we'll hear a little more.
- KING HENRY. My Queen and son are gone to France for aid;
- And, as I hear, the great commanding Warwick
- Is thither gone to crave the French King's sister
- To wife for Edward. If this news be true,
- Poor queen and son, your labour is but lost;
- For Warwick is a subtle orator,
- And Lewis a prince soon won with moving words.
- By this account, then, Margaret may win him;
- For she's a woman to be pitied much.
- Her sighs will make a batt'ry in his breast;
- Her tears will pierce into a marble heart;
- The tiger will be mild whiles she doth mourn;
- And Nero will be tainted with remorse
- To hear and see her plaints, her brinish tears.
- Ay, but she's come to beg: Warwick, to give.
- She, on his left side, craving aid for Henry:
- He, on his right, asking a wife for Edward.
- She weeps, and says her Henry is depos'd:
- He smiles, and says his Edward is install'd;
- That she, poor wretch, for grief can speak no more;
- Whiles Warwick tells his title, smooths the wrong,
- Inferreth arguments of mighty strength,
- And in conclusion wins the King from her
- With promise of his sister, and what else,
- To strengthen and support King Edward's place.
- O Margaret, thus 'twill be; and thou, poor soul,
- Art then forsaken, as thou went'st forlorn!
- SECOND KEEPER. Say, what art thou that talk'st of kings and queens?
- KING HENRY. More than I seem, and less than I was born to:
- A man at least, for less I should not be;
- And men may talk of kings, and why not I?
- SECOND KEEPER. Ay, but thou talk'st as if thou wert a king.
- KING HENRY. Why, so I am- in mind; and that's enough.
- SECOND KEEPER. But, if thou be a king, where is thy crown?
- KING HENRY. My crown is in my heart, not on my head;
- Not deck'd with diamonds and Indian stones,
- Not to be seen. My crown is call'd content;
- A crown it is that seldom kings enjoy.
- SECOND KEEPER. Well, if you be a king crown'd with content,
- Your crown content and you must be contented
- To go along with us; for as we think,
- You are the king King Edward hath depos'd;
- And we his subjects, sworn in all allegiance,
- Will apprehend you as his enemy.
- KING HENRY. But did you never swear, and break an oath?
- SECOND KEEPER. No, never such an oath; nor will not now.
- KING HENRY. Where did you dwell when I was King of England?
- SECOND KEEPER. Here in this country, where we now remain.
- KING HENRY. I was anointed king at nine months old;
- My father and my grandfather were kings;
- And you were sworn true subjects unto me;
- And tell me, then, have you not broke your oaths?
- FIRST KEEPER. No;
- For we were subjects but while you were king.
- KING HENRY. Why, am I dead? Do I not breathe a man?
- Ah, simple men, you know not what you swear!
- Look, as I blow this feather from my face,
- And as the air blows it to me again,
- Obeying with my wind when I do blow,
- And yielding to another when it blows,
- Commanded always by the greater gust,
- Such is the lightness of you common men.
- But do not break your oaths; for of that sin
- My mild entreaty shall not make you guilty.
- Go where you will, the King shall be commanded;
- And be you kings: command, and I'll obey.
- FIRST KEEPER. We are true subjects to the King, King Edward.
- KING HENRY. So would you be again to Henry,
- If he were seated as King Edward is.
- FIRST KEEPER. We charge you, in God's name and the King's,
- To go with us unto the officers.
- KING HENRY. In God's name, lead; your King's name be obey'd;
- And what God will, that let your King perform;
- And what he will, I humbly yield unto. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-London. The palace
-
-Enter KING EDWARD, GLOUCESTER, CLARENCE, and LADY GREY
-
- KING EDWARD. Brother of Gloucester, at Saint Albans' field
- This lady's husband, Sir Richard Grey, was slain,
- His land then seiz'd on by the conqueror.
- Her suit is now to repossess those lands;
- Which we in justice cannot well deny,
- Because in quarrel of the house of York
- The worthy gentleman did lose his life.
- GLOUCESTER. Your Highness shall do well to grant her suit;
- It were dishonour to deny it her.
- KING EDWARD. It were no less; but yet I'll make a pause.
- GLOUCESTER. [Aside to CLARENCE] Yea, is it so?
- I see the lady hath a thing to grant,
- Before the King will grant her humble suit.
- CLARENCE. [Aside to GLOUCESTER] He knows the game; how true he
- keeps the wind!
- GLOUCESTER. [Aside to CLARENCE] Silence!
- KING EDWARD. Widow, we will consider of your suit;
- And come some other time to know our mind.
- LADY GREY. Right gracious lord, I cannot brook delay.
- May it please your Highness to resolve me now;
- And what your pleasure is shall satisfy me.
- GLOUCESTER. [Aside] Ay, widow? Then I'll warrant you all your
- lands,
- An if what pleases him shall pleasure you.
- Fight closer or, good faith, you'll catch a blow.
- CLARENCE. [Aside to GLOUCESTER] I fear her not, unless she chance
- to fall.
- GLOUCESTER. [Aside to CLARENCE] God forbid that, for he'll take
- vantages.
- KING EDWARD. How many children hast thou, widow, tell me.
- CLARENCE. [Aside to GLOUCESTER] I think he means to beg a child of
- her.
- GLOUCESTER. [Aside to CLARENCE] Nay, then whip me; he'll rather
- give her two.
- LADY GREY. Three, my most gracious lord.
- GLOUCESTER. [Aside] You shall have four if you'll be rul'd by him.
- KING EDWARD. 'Twere pity they should lose their father's lands.
- LADY GREY. Be pitiful, dread lord, and grant it, then.
- KING EDWARD. Lords, give us leave; I'll try this widow's wit.
- GLOUCESTER. [Aside] Ay, good leave have you; for you will have
- leave
- Till youth take leave and leave you to the crutch.
- [GLOUCESTER and CLARENCE withdraw]
- KING EDWARD. Now tell me, madam, do you love your children?
- LADY GREY. Ay, full as dearly as I love myself.
- KING EDWARD. And would you not do much to do them good?
- LADY GREY. To do them good I would sustain some harm.
- KING EDWARD. Then get your husband's lands, to do them good.
- LADY GREY. Therefore I came unto your Majesty.
- KING EDWARD. I'll tell you how these lands are to be got.
- LADY GREY. So shall you bind me to your Highness' service.
- KING EDWARD. What service wilt thou do me if I give them?
- LADY GREY. What you command that rests in me to do.
- KING EDWARD. But you will take exceptions to my boon.
- LADY GREY. No, gracious lord, except I cannot do it.
- KING EDWARD. Ay, but thou canst do what I mean to ask.
- LADY GREY. Why, then I will do what your Grace commands.
- GLOUCESTER. He plies her hard; and much rain wears the marble.
- CLARENCE. As red as fire! Nay, then her wax must melt.
- LADY GREY. Why stops my lord? Shall I not hear my task?
- KING EDWARD. An easy task; 'tis but to love a king.
- LADY GREY. That's soon perform'd, because I am a subject.
- KING EDWARD. Why, then, thy husband's lands I freely give thee.
- LADY GREY. I take my leave with many thousand thanks.
- GLOUCESTER. The match is made; she seals it with a curtsy.
- KING EDWARD. But stay thee- 'tis the fruits of love I mean.
- LADY GREY. The fruits of love I mean, my loving liege.
- KING EDWARD. Ay, but, I fear me, in another sense.
- What love, thinkst thou, I sue so much to get?
- LADY GREY. My love till death, my humble thanks, my prayers;
- That love which virtue begs and virtue grants.
- KING EDWARD. No, by my troth, I did not mean such love.
- LADY GREY. Why, then you mean not as I thought you did.
- KING EDWARD. But now you partly may perceive my mind.
- LADY GREY. My mind will never grant what I perceive
- Your Highness aims at, if I aim aright.
- KING EDWARD. To tell thee plain, I aim to lie with thee.
- LADY GREY. To tell you plain, I had rather lie in prison.
- KING EDWARD. Why, then thou shalt not have thy husband's lands.
- LADY GREY. Why, then mine honesty shall be my dower;
- For by that loss I will not purchase them.
- KING EDWARD. Therein thou wrong'st thy children mightily.
- LADY GREY. Herein your Highness wrongs both them and me.
- But, mighty lord, this merry inclination
- Accords not with the sadness of my suit.
- Please you dismiss me, either with ay or no.
- KING EDWARD. Ay, if thou wilt say ay to my request;
- No, if thou dost say no to my demand.
- LADY GREY. Then, no, my lord. My suit is at an end.
- GLOUCESTER. The widow likes him not; she knits her brows.
- CLARENCE. He is the bluntest wooer in Christendom.
- KING EDWARD. [Aside] Her looks doth argue her replete with modesty;
- Her words doth show her wit incomparable;
- All her perfections challenge sovereignty.
- One way or other, she is for a king;
- And she shall be my love, or else my queen.
- Say that King Edward take thee for his queen?
- LADY GREY. 'Tis better said than done, my gracious lord.
- I am a subject fit to jest withal,
- But far unfit to be a sovereign.
- KING EDWARD. Sweet widow, by my state I swear to thee
- I speak no more than what my soul intends;
- And that is to enjoy thee for my love.
- LADY GREY. And that is more than I will yield unto.
- I know I am too mean to be your queen,
- And yet too good to be your concubine.
- KING EDWARD. You cavil, widow; I did mean my queen.
- LADY GREY. 'Twill grieve your Grace my sons should call you father.
- KING EDWARD.No more than when my daughters call thee mother.
- Thou art a widow, and thou hast some children;
- And, by God's Mother, I, being but a bachelor,
- Have other some. Why, 'tis a happy thing
- To be the father unto many sons.
- Answer no more, for thou shalt be my queen.
- GLOUCESTER. The ghostly father now hath done his shrift.
- CLARENCE. When he was made a shriver, 'twas for shrift.
- KING EDWARD. Brothers, you muse what chat we two have had.
- GLOUCESTER. The widow likes it not, for she looks very sad.
- KING EDWARD. You'd think it strange if I should marry her.
- CLARENCE. To who, my lord?
- KING EDWARD. Why, Clarence, to myself.
- GLOUCESTER. That would be ten days' wonder at the least.
- CLARENCE. That's a day longer than a wonder lasts.
- GLOUCESTER. By so much is the wonder in extremes.
- KING EDWARD. Well, jest on, brothers; I can tell you both
- Her suit is granted for her husband's lands.
-
- Enter a NOBLEMAN
-
- NOBLEMAN. My gracious lord, Henry your foe is taken
- And brought your prisoner to your palace gate.
- KING EDWARD. See that he be convey'd unto the Tower.
- And go we, brothers, to the man that took him
- To question of his apprehension.
- Widow, go you along. Lords, use her honourably.
- Exeunt all but GLOUCESTER
- GLOUCESTER. Ay, Edward will use women honourably.
- Would he were wasted, marrow, bones, and all,
- That from his loins no hopeful branch may spring
- To cross me from the golden time I look for!
- And yet, between my soul's desire and me-
- The lustful Edward's title buried-
- Is Clarence, Henry, and his son young Edward,
- And all the unlook'd for issue of their bodies,
- To take their rooms ere I can place myself.
- A cold premeditation for my purpose!
- Why, then I do but dream on sovereignty;
- Like one that stands upon a promontory
- And spies a far-off shore where he would tread,
- Wishing his foot were equal with his eye;
- And chides the sea that sunders him from thence,
- Saying he'll lade it dry to have his way-
- So do I wish the crown, being so far off;
- And so I chide the means that keeps me from it;
- And so I say I'll cut the causes off,
- Flattering me with impossibilities.
- My eye's too quick, my heart o'erweens too much,
- Unless my hand and strength could equal them.
- Well, say there is no kingdom then for Richard;
- What other pleasure can the world afford?
- I'll make my heaven in a lady's lap,
- And deck my body in gay ornaments,
- And witch sweet ladies with my words and looks.
- O miserable thought! and more unlikely
- Than to accomplish twenty golden crowns.
- Why, love forswore me in my mother's womb;
- And, for I should not deal in her soft laws,
- She did corrupt frail nature with some bribe
- To shrink mine arm up like a wither'd shrub
- To make an envious mountain on my back,
- Where sits deformity to mock my body;
- To shape my legs of an unequal size;
- To disproportion me in every part,
- Like to a chaos, or an unlick'd bear-whelp
- That carries no impression like the dam.
- And am I, then, a man to be belov'd?
- O monstrous fault to harbour such a thought!
- Then, since this earth affords no joy to me
- But to command, to check, to o'erbear such
- As are of better person than myself,
- I'll make my heaven to dream upon the crown,
- And whiles I live t' account this world but hell,
- Until my misshap'd trunk that bear this head
- Be round impaled with a glorious crown.
- And yet I know not how to get the crown,
- For many lives stand between me and home;
- And I- like one lost in a thorny wood
- That rents the thorns and is rent with the thorns,
- Seeking a way and straying from the way
- Not knowing how to find the open air,
- But toiling desperately to find it out-
- Torment myself to catch the English crown;
- And from that torment I will free myself
- Or hew my way out with a bloody axe.
- Why, I can smile, and murder whiles I smile,
- And cry 'Content!' to that which grieves my heart,
- And wet my cheeks with artificial tears,
- And frame my face to all occasions.
- I'll drown more sailors than the mermaid shall;
- I'll slay more gazers than the basilisk;
- I'll play the orator as well as Nestor,
- Deceive more slily than Ulysses could,
- And, like a Sinon, take another Troy.
- I can add colours to the chameleon,
- Change shapes with Protheus for advantages,
- And set the murderous Machiavel to school.
- Can I do this, and cannot get a crown?
- Tut, were it farther off, I'll pluck it down. Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-France. The KING'S palace
-
-Flourish. Enter LEWIS the French King, his sister BONA,
-his Admiral call'd BOURBON; PRINCE EDWARD, QUEEN MARGARET,
-and the EARL of OXFORD. LEWIS sits, and riseth up again
-
- LEWIS. Fair Queen of England, worthy Margaret,
- Sit down with us. It ill befits thy state
- And birth that thou shouldst stand while Lewis doth sit.
- QUEEN MARGARET. No, mighty King of France. Now Margaret
- Must strike her sail and learn a while to serve
- Where kings command. I was, I must confess,
- Great Albion's Queen in former golden days;
- But now mischance hath trod my title down
- And with dishonour laid me on the ground,
- Where I must take like seat unto my fortune,
- And to my humble seat conform myself.
- LEWIS. Why, say, fair Queen, whence springs this deep despair?
- QUEEN MARGARET. From such a cause as fills mine eyes with tears
- And stops my tongue, while heart is drown'd in cares.
- LEWIS. Whate'er it be, be thou still like thyself,
- And sit thee by our side. [Seats her by him] Yield not thy neck
- To fortune's yoke, but let thy dauntless mind
- Still ride in triumph over all mischance.
- Be plain, Queen Margaret, and tell thy grief;
- It shall be eas'd, if France can yield relief.
- QUEEN MARGARET. Those gracious words revive my drooping thoughts
- And give my tongue-tied sorrows leave to speak.
- Now therefore be it known to noble Lewis
- That Henry, sole possessor of my love,
- Is, of a king, become a banish'd man,
- And forc'd to live in Scotland a forlorn;
- While proud ambitious Edward Duke of York
- Usurps the regal title and the seat
- Of England's true-anointed lawful King.
- This is the cause that I, poor Margaret,
- With this my son, Prince Edward, Henry's heir,
- Am come to crave thy just and lawful aid;
- And if thou fail us, all our hope is done.
- Scotland hath will to help, but cannot help;
- Our people and our peers are both misled,
- Our treasure seiz'd, our soldiers put to flight,
- And, as thou seest, ourselves in heavy plight.
- LEWIS. Renowned Queen, with patience calm the storm,
- While we bethink a means to break it off.
- QUEEN MARGARET. The more we stay, the stronger grows our foe.
- LEWIS. The more I stay, the more I'll succour thee.
- QUEEN MARGARET. O, but impatience waiteth on true sorrow.
- And see where comes the breeder of my sorrow!
-
- Enter WARWICK
-
- LEWIS. What's he approacheth boldly to our presence?
- QUEEN MARGARET. Our Earl of Warwick, Edward's greatest friend.
- LEWIS. Welcome, brave Warwick! What brings thee to France?
- [He descends. She ariseth]
- QUEEN MARGARET. Ay, now begins a second storm to rise;
- For this is he that moves both wind and tide.
- WARWICK. From worthy Edward, King of Albion,
- My lord and sovereign, and thy vowed friend,
- I come, in kindness and unfeigned love,
- First to do greetings to thy royal person,
- And then to crave a league of amity,
- And lastly to confirm that amity
- With nuptial knot, if thou vouchsafe to grant
- That virtuous Lady Bona, thy fair sister,
- To England's King in lawful marriage.
- QUEEN MARGARET. [Aside] If that go forward, Henry's hope is done.
- WARWICK. [To BONA] And, gracious madam, in our king's behalf,
- I am commanded, with your leave and favour,
- Humbly to kiss your hand, and with my tongue
- To tell the passion of my sovereign's heart;
- Where fame, late ent'ring at his heedful ears,
- Hath plac'd thy beauty's image and thy virtue.
- QUEEN MARGARET. King Lewis and Lady Bona, hear me speak
- Before you answer Warwick. His demand
- Springs not from Edward's well-meant honest love,
- But from deceit bred by necessity;
- For how can tyrants safely govern home
- Unless abroad they purchase great alliance?
- To prove him tyrant this reason may suffice,
- That Henry liveth still; but were he dead,
- Yet here Prince Edward stands, King Henry's son.
- Look therefore, Lewis, that by this league and marriage
- Thou draw not on thy danger and dishonour;
- For though usurpers sway the rule a while
- Yet heav'ns are just, and time suppresseth wrongs.
- WARWICK. Injurious Margaret!
- PRINCE OF WALES. And why not Queen?
- WARWICK. Because thy father Henry did usurp;
- And thou no more art prince than she is queen.
- OXFORD. Then Warwick disannuls great John of Gaunt,
- Which did subdue the greatest part of Spain;
- And, after John of Gaunt, Henry the Fourth,
- Whose wisdom was a mirror to the wisest;
- And, after that wise prince, Henry the Fifth,
- Who by his prowess conquered all France.
- From these our Henry lineally descends.
- WARWICK. Oxford, how haps it in this smooth discourse
- You told not how Henry the Sixth hath lost
- All that which Henry the Fifth had gotten?
- Methinks these peers of France should smile at that.
- But for the rest: you tell a pedigree
- Of threescore and two years- a silly time
- To make prescription for a kingdom's worth.
- OXFORD. Why, Warwick, canst thou speak against thy liege,
- Whom thou obeyed'st thirty and six years,
- And not betray thy treason with a blush?
- WARWICK. Can Oxford that did ever fence the right
- Now buckler falsehood with a pedigree?
- For shame! Leave Henry, and call Edward king.
- OXFORD. Call him my king by whose injurious doom
- My elder brother, the Lord Aubrey Vere,
- Was done to death; and more than so, my father,
- Even in the downfall of his mellow'd years,
- When nature brought him to the door of death?
- No, Warwick, no; while life upholds this arm,
- This arm upholds the house of Lancaster.
- WARWICK. And I the house of York.
- LEWIS. Queen Margaret, Prince Edward, and Oxford,
- Vouchsafe at our request to stand aside
- While I use further conference with Warwick.
- [They stand aloof]
- QUEEN MARGARET. Heavens grant that Warwick's words bewitch him not!
- LEWIS. Now, Warwick, tell me, even upon thy conscience,
- Is Edward your true king? for I were loath
- To link with him that were not lawful chosen.
- WARWICK. Thereon I pawn my credit and mine honour.
- LEWIS. But is he gracious in the people's eye?
- WARWICK. The more that Henry was unfortunate.
- LEWIS. Then further: all dissembling set aside,
- Tell me for truth the measure of his love
- Unto our sister Bona.
- WARWICK. Such it seems
- As may beseem a monarch like himself.
- Myself have often heard him say and swear
- That this his love was an eternal plant
- Whereof the root was fix'd in virtue's ground,
- The leaves and fruit maintain'd with beauty's sun,
- Exempt from envy, but not from disdain,
- Unless the Lady Bona quit his pain.
- LEWIS. Now, sister, let us hear your firm resolve.
- BONA. Your grant or your denial shall be mine.
- [To WARWICK] Yet I confess that often ere this day,
- When I have heard your king's desert recounted,
- Mine ear hath tempted judgment to desire.
- LEWIS. Then, Warwick, thus: our sister shall be Edward's.
- And now forthwith shall articles be drawn
- Touching the jointure that your king must make,
- Which with her dowry shall be counterpois'd.
- Draw near, Queen Margaret, and be a witness
- That Bona shall be wife to the English king.
- PRINCE OF WALES. To Edward, but not to the English king.
- QUEEN MARGARET. Deceitful Warwick, it was thy device
- By this alliance to make void my suit.
- Before thy coming, Lewis was Henry's friend.
- LEWIS. And still is friend to him and Margaret.
- But if your title to the crown be weak,
- As may appear by Edward's good success,
- Then 'tis but reason that I be releas'd
- From giving aid which late I promised.
- Yet shall you have all kindness at my hand
- That your estate requires and mine can yield.
- WARWICK. Henry now lives in Scotland at his case,
- Where having nothing, nothing can he lose.
- And as for you yourself, our quondam queen,
- You have a father able to maintain you,
- And better 'twere you troubled him than France.
- QUEEN MARGARET. Peace, impudent and shameless Warwick,
- Proud setter up and puller down of kings!
- I will not hence till with my talk and tears,
- Both full of truth, I make King Lewis behold
- Thy sly conveyance and thy lord's false love;
- For both of you are birds of self-same feather.
- [POST blowing a horn within]
- LEWIS. Warwick, this is some post to us or thee.
-
- Enter the POST
-
- POST. My lord ambassador, these letters are for you,
- Sent from your brother, Marquis Montague.
- These from our King unto your Majesty.
- And, madam, these for you; from whom I know not.
- [They all read their letters]
- OXFORD. I like it well that our fair Queen and mistress
- Smiles at her news, while Warwick frowns at his.
- PRINCE OF WALES. Nay, mark how Lewis stamps as he were nettled.
- I hope all's for the best.
- LEWIS. Warwick, what are thy news? And yours, fair Queen?
- QUEEN MARGARET. Mine such as fill my heart with unhop'd joys.
- WARWICK. Mine, full of sorrow and heart's discontent.
- LEWIS. What, has your king married the Lady Grey?
- And now, to soothe your forgery and his,
- Sends me a paper to persuade me patience?
- Is this th' alliance that he seeks with France?
- Dare he presume to scorn us in this manner?
- QUEEN MARGARET. I told your Majesty as much before.
- This proveth Edward's love and Warwick's honesty.
- WARWICK. King Lewis, I here protest in sight of heaven,
- And by the hope I have of heavenly bliss,
- That I am clear from this misdeed of Edward's-
- No more my king, for he dishonours me,
- But most himself, if he could see his shame.
- Did I forget that by the house of York
- My father came untimely to his death?
- Did I let pass th' abuse done to my niece?
- Did I impale him with the regal crown?
- Did I put Henry from his native right?
- And am I guerdon'd at the last with shame?
- Shame on himself! for my desert is honour;
- And to repair my honour lost for him
- I here renounce him and return to Henry.
- My noble Queen, let former grudges pass,
- And henceforth I am thy true servitor.
- I will revenge his wrong to Lady Bona,
- And replant Henry in his former state.
- QUEEN MARGARET. Warwick, these words have turn'd my hate to love;
- And I forgive and quite forget old faults,
- And joy that thou becom'st King Henry's friend.
- WARWICK. So much his friend, ay, his unfeigned friend,
- That if King Lewis vouchsafe to furnish us
- With some few bands of chosen soldiers,
- I'll undertake to land them on our coast
- And force the tyrant from his seat by war.
- 'Tis not his new-made bride shall succour him;
- And as for Clarence, as my letters tell me,
- He's very likely now to fall from him
- For matching more for wanton lust than honour
- Or than for strength and safety of our country.
- BONA. Dear brother, how shall Bona be reveng'd
- But by thy help to this distressed queen?
- QUEEN MARGARET. Renowned Prince, how shall poor Henry live
- Unless thou rescue him from foul despair?
- BONA. My quarrel and this English queen's are one.
- WARWICK. And mine, fair Lady Bona, joins with yours.
- LEWIS. And mine with hers, and thine, and Margaret's.
- Therefore, at last, I firmly am resolv'd
- You shall have aid.
- QUEEN MARGARET. Let me give humble thanks for all at once.
- LEWIS. Then, England's messenger, return in post
- And tell false Edward, thy supposed king,
- That Lewis of France is sending over masquers
- To revel it with him and his new bride.
- Thou seest what's past; go fear thy king withal.
- BONA. Tell him, in hope he'll prove a widower shortly,
- I'll wear the willow-garland for his sake.
- QUEEN MARGARET. Tell him my mourning weeds are laid aside,
- And I am ready to put armour on.
- WARWICK. Tell him from me that he hath done me wrong,
- And therefore I'll uncrown him ere't be long.
- There's thy reward; be gone. Exit POST
- LEWIS. But, Warwick,
- Thou and Oxford, with five thousand men,
- Shall cross the seas and bid false Edward battle:
- And, as occasion serves, this noble Queen
- And Prince shall follow with a fresh supply.
- Yet, ere thou go, but answer me one doubt:
- What pledge have we of thy firm loyalty?
- WARWICK. This shall assure my constant loyalty:
- That if our Queen and this young Prince agree,
- I'll join mine eldest daughter and my joy
- To him forthwith in holy wedlock bands.
- QUEEN MARGARET. Yes, I agree, and thank you for your motion.
- Son Edward, she is fair and virtuous,
- Therefore delay not- give thy hand to Warwick;
- And with thy hand thy faith irrevocable
- That only Warwick's daughter shall be thine.
- PRINCE OF WALES. Yes, I accept her, for she well deserves it;
- And here, to pledge my vow, I give my hand.
- [He gives his hand to WARWICK]
- LEWIS. stay we now? These soldiers shall be levied;
- And thou, Lord Bourbon, our High Admiral,
- Shall waft them over with our royal fleet.
- I long till Edward fall by war's mischance
- For mocking marriage with a dame of France.
- Exeunt all but WARWICK
- WARWICK. I came from Edward as ambassador,
- But I return his sworn and mortal foe.
- Matter of marriage was the charge he gave me,
- But dreadful war shall answer his demand.
- Had he none else to make a stale but me?
- Then none but I shall turn his jest to sorrow.
- I was the chief that rais'd him to the crown,
- And I'll be chief to bring him down again;
- Not that I pity Henry's misery,
- But seek revenge on Edward's mockery. Exit
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT IV. SCENE I.
-London. The palace
-
-Enter GLOUCESTER, CLARENCE, SOMERSET, and MONTAGUE
-
- GLOUCESTER. Now tell me, brother Clarence, what think you
- Of this new marriage with the Lady Grey?
- Hath not our brother made a worthy choice?
- CLARENCE. Alas, you know 'tis far from hence to France!
- How could he stay till Warwick made return?
- SOMERSET. My lords, forbear this talk; here comes the King.
-
- Flourish. Enter KING EDWARD, attended; LADY
- GREY, as Queen; PEMBROKE, STAFFORD, HASTINGS,
- and others. Four stand on one side, and four on the other
-
- GLOUCESTER. And his well-chosen bride.
- CLARENCE. I mind to tell him plainly what I think.
- KING EDWARD. Now, brother of Clarence, how like you our choice
- That you stand pensive as half malcontent?
- CLARENCE. As well as Lewis of France or the Earl of Warwick,
- Which are so weak of courage and in judgment
- That they'll take no offence at our abuse.
- KING EDWARD. Suppose they take offence without a cause;
- They are but Lewis and Warwick: I am Edward,
- Your King and Warwick's and must have my will.
- GLOUCESTER. And shall have your will, because our King.
- Yet hasty marriage seldom proveth well.
- KING EDWARD. Yea, brother Richard, are you offended too?
- GLOUCESTER. Not I.
- No, God forbid that I should wish them sever'd
- Whom God hath join'd together; ay, and 'twere pity
- To sunder them that yoke so well together.
- KING EDWARD. Setting your scorns and your mislike aside,
- Tell me some reason why the Lady Grey
- Should not become my wife and England's Queen.
- And you too, Somerset and Montague,
- Speak freely what you think.
- CLARENCE. Then this is mine opinion: that King Lewis
- Becomes your enemy for mocking him
- About the marriage of the Lady Bona.
- GLOUCESTER. And Warwick, doing what you gave in charge,
- Is now dishonoured by this new marriage.
- KING EDWARD. What if both Lewis and Warwick be appeas'd
- By such invention as I can devise?
- MONTAGUE. Yet to have join'd with France in such alliance
- Would more have strength'ned this our commonwealth
- 'Gainst foreign storms than any home-bred marriage.
- HASTINGS. Why, knows not Montague that of itself
- England is safe, if true within itself?
- MONTAGUE. But the safer when 'tis back'd with France.
- HASTINGS. 'Tis better using France than trusting France.
- Let us be back'd with God, and with the seas
- Which He hath giv'n for fence impregnable,
- And with their helps only defend ourselves.
- In them and in ourselves our safety lies.
- CLARENCE. For this one speech Lord Hastings well deserves
- To have the heir of the Lord Hungerford.
- KING EDWARD. Ay, what of that? it was my will and grant;
- And for this once my will shall stand for law.
- GLOUCESTER. And yet methinks your Grace hath not done well
- To give the heir and daughter of Lord Scales
- Unto the brother of your loving bride.
- She better would have fitted me or Clarence;
- But in your bride you bury brotherhood.
- CLARENCE. Or else you would not have bestow'd the heir
- Of the Lord Bonville on your new wife's son,
- And leave your brothers to go speed elsewhere.
- KING EDWARD. Alas, poor Clarence! Is it for a wife
- That thou art malcontent? I will provide thee.
- CLARENCE. In choosing for yourself you show'd your judgment,
- Which being shallow, you shall give me leave
- To play the broker in mine own behalf;
- And to that end I shortly mind to leave you.
- KING EDWARD. Leave me or tarry, Edward will be King,
- And not be tied unto his brother's will.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. My lords, before it pleas'd his Majesty
- To raise my state to title of a queen,
- Do me but right, and you must all confess
- That I was not ignoble of descent:
- And meaner than myself have had like fortune.
- But as this title honours me and mine,
- So your dislikes, to whom I would be pleasing,
- Doth cloud my joys with danger and with sorrow.
- KING EDWARD. My love, forbear to fawn upon their frowns.
- What danger or what sorrow can befall thee,
- So long as Edward is thy constant friend
- And their true sovereign whom they must obey?
- Nay, whom they shall obey, and love thee too,
- Unless they seek for hatred at my hands;
- Which if they do, yet will I keep thee safe,
- And they shall feel the vengeance of my wrath.
- GLOUCESTER. [Aside] I hear, yet say not much, but think the more.
-
- Enter a POST
-
- KING EDWARD. Now, messenger, what letters or what news
- From France?
- MESSENGER. My sovereign liege, no letters, and few words,
- But such as I, without your special pardon,
- Dare not relate.
- KING EDWARD. Go to, we pardon thee; therefore, in brief,
- Tell me their words as near as thou canst guess them.
- What answer makes King Lewis unto our letters?
- MESSENGER. At my depart, these were his very words:
- 'Go tell false Edward, the supposed king,
- That Lewis of France is sending over masquers
- To revel it with him and his new bride.'
- KING EDWARD. IS Lewis so brave? Belike he thinks me Henry.
- But what said Lady Bona to my marriage?
- MESSENGER. These were her words, utt'red with mild disdain:
- 'Tell him, in hope he'll prove a widower shortly,
- I'll wear the willow-garland for his sake.'
- KING EDWARD. I blame not her: she could say little less;
- She had the wrong. But what said Henry's queen?
- For I have heard that she was there in place.
- MESSENGER. 'Tell him' quoth she 'my mourning weeds are done,
- And I am ready to put armour on.'
- KING EDWARD. Belike she minds to play the Amazon.
- But what said Warwick to these injuries?
- MESSENGER. He, more incens'd against your Majesty
- Than all the rest, discharg'd me with these words:
- 'Tell him from me that he hath done me wrong;
- And therefore I'll uncrown him ere't be long.'
- KING EDWARD. Ha! durst the traitor breathe out so proud words?
- Well, I will arm me, being thus forewarn'd.
- They shall have wars and pay for their presumption.
- But say, is Warwick friends with Margaret?
- MESSENGER. Ay, gracious sovereign; they are so link'd in friendship
- That young Prince Edward marries Warwick's daughter.
- CLARENCE. Belike the elder; Clarence will have the younger.
- Now, brother king, farewell, and sit you fast,
- For I will hence to Warwick's other daughter;
- That, though I want a kingdom, yet in marriage
- I may not prove inferior to yourself.
- You that love me and Warwick, follow me.
- Exit, and SOMERSET follows
- GLOUCESTER. [Aside] Not I.
- My thoughts aim at a further matter; I
- Stay not for the love of Edward but the crown.
- KING EDWARD. Clarence and Somerset both gone to Warwick!
- Yet am I arm'd against the worst can happen;
- And haste is needful in this desp'rate case.
- Pembroke and Stafford, you in our behalf
- Go levy men and make prepare for war;
- They are already, or quickly will be landed.
- Myself in person will straight follow you.
- Exeunt PEMBROKE and STAFFORD
- But ere I go, Hastings and Montague,
- Resolve my doubt. You twain, of all the rest,
- Are near to Warwick by blood and by alliance.
- Tell me if you love Warwick more than me?
- If it be so, then both depart to him:
- I rather wish you foes than hollow friends.
- But if you mind to hold your true obedience,
- Give me assurance with some friendly vow,
- That I may never have you in suspect.
- MONTAGUE. So God help Montague as he proves true!
- HASTINGS. And Hastings as he favours Edward's cause!
- KING EDWARD. Now, brother Richard, will you stand by us?
- GLOUCESTER. Ay, in despite of all that shall withstand you.
- KING EDWARD. Why, so! then am I sure of victory.
- Now therefore let us hence, and lose no hour
- Till we meet Warwick with his foreign pow'r. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-A plain in Warwickshire
-
-Enter WARWICK and OXFORD, with French soldiers
-
- WARWICK. Trust me, my lord, all hitherto goes well;
- The common people by numbers swarm to us.
-
- Enter CLARENCE and SOMERSET
-
- But see where Somerset and Clarence comes.
- Speak suddenly, my lords- are we all friends?
- CLARENCE. Fear not that, my lord.
- WARWICK. Then, gentle Clarence, welcome unto Warwick;
- And welcome, Somerset. I hold it cowardice
- To rest mistrustful where a noble heart
- Hath pawn'd an open hand in sign of love;
- Else might I think that Clarence, Edward's brother,
- Were but a feigned friend to our proceedings.
- But welcome, sweet Clarence; my daughter shall be thine.
- And now what rests but, in night's coverture,
- Thy brother being carelessly encamp'd,
- His soldiers lurking in the towns about,
- And but attended by a simple guard,
- We may surprise and take him at our pleasure?
- Our scouts have found the adventure very easy;
- That as Ulysses and stout Diomede
- With sleight and manhood stole to Rhesus' tents,
- And brought from thence the Thracian fatal steeds,
- So we, well cover'd with the night's black mantle,
- At unawares may beat down Edward's guard
- And seize himself- I say not 'slaughter him,'
- For I intend but only to surprise him.
- You that will follow me to this attempt,
- Applaud the name of Henry with your leader.
- [They all cry 'Henry!']
- Why then, let's on our way in silent sort.
- For Warwick and his friends, God and Saint George! Exeunt
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-Edward's camp, near Warwick
-
-Enter three WATCHMEN, to guard the KING'S tent
-
- FIRST WATCHMAN. Come on, my masters, each man take his stand;
- The King by this is set him down to sleep.
- SECOND WATCHMAN. What, will he not to bed?
- FIRST WATCHMAN. Why, no; for he hath made a solemn vow
- Never to lie and take his natural rest
- Till Warwick or himself be quite suppress'd.
- SECOND WATCHMAN. To-morrow then, belike, shall be the day,
- If Warwick be so near as men report.
- THIRD WATCHMAN. But say, I pray, what nobleman is that
- That with the King here resteth in his tent?
- FIRST WATCHMAN. 'Tis the Lord Hastings, the King's chiefest friend.
- THIRD WATCHMAN. O, is it So? But why commands the King
- That his chief followers lodge in towns about him,
- While he himself keeps in the cold field?
- SECOND WATCHMAN. 'Tis the more honour, because more dangerous.
- THIRD WATCHMAN. Ay, but give me worship and quietness;
- I like it better than dangerous honour.
- If Warwick knew in what estate he stands,
- 'Tis to be doubted he would waken him.
- FIRST WATCHMAN. Unless our halberds did shut up his passage.
- SECOND WATCHMAN. Ay, wherefore else guard we his royal tent
- But to defend his person from night-foes?
-
- Enter WARWICK, CLARENCE, OXFORD, SOMERSET,
- and French soldiers, silent all
-
- WARWICK. This is his tent; and see where stand his guard.
- Courage, my masters! Honour now or never!
- But follow me, and Edward shall be ours.
- FIRST WATCHMAN. Who goes there?
- SECOND WATCHMAN. Stay, or thou diest.
-
- WARWICK and the rest cry all 'Warwick! Warwick!' and
- set upon the guard, who fly, crying 'Arm! Arm!' WARWICK
- and the rest following them
-
- The drum playing and trumpet sounding, re-enter WARWICK
- and the rest, bringing the KING out in his gown,
- sitting in a chair. GLOUCESTER and HASTINGS fly over the stage
-
- SOMERSET. What are they that fly there?
- WARWICK. Richard and Hastings. Let them go; here is the Duke.
- KING EDWARD. The Duke! Why, Warwick, when we parted,
- Thou call'dst me King?
- WARWICK. Ay, but the case is alter'd.
- When you disgrac'd me in my embassade,
- Then I degraded you from being King,
- And come now to create you Duke of York.
- Alas, how should you govern any kingdom
- That know not how to use ambassadors,
- Nor how to be contented with one wife,
- Nor how to use your brothers brotherly,
- Nor how to study for the people's welfare,
- Nor how to shroud yourself from enemies?
- KING EDWARD. Yea, brother of Clarence, art thou here too?
- Nay, then I see that Edward needs must down.
- Yet, Warwick, in despite of all mischance,
- Of thee thyself and all thy complices,
- Edward will always bear himself as King.
- Though fortune's malice overthrow my state,
- My mind exceeds the compass of her wheel.
- WARWICK. Then, for his mind, be Edward England's king;
- [Takes off his crown]
- But Henry now shall wear the English crown
- And be true King indeed; thou but the shadow.
- My Lord of Somerset, at my request,
- See that forthwith Duke Edward be convey'd
- Unto my brother, Archbishop of York.
- When I have fought with Pembroke and his fellows,
- I'll follow you and tell what answer
- Lewis and the Lady Bona send to him.
- Now for a while farewell, good Duke of York.
- KING EDWARD. What fates impose, that men must needs abide;
- It boots not to resist both wind and tide.
- [They lead him out forcibly]
- OXFORD. What now remains, my lords, for us to do
- But march to London with our soldiers?
- WARWICK. Ay, that's the first thing that we have to do;
- To free King Henry from imprisonment,
- And see him seated in the regal throne. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE IV.
-London. The palace
-
-Enter QUEEN ELIZABETH and RIVERS
-
- RIVERS. Madam, what makes you in this sudden change?
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. Why, brother Rivers, are you yet to learn
- What late misfortune is befall'n King Edward?
- RIVERS. What, loss of some pitch'd battle against Warwick?
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. No, but the loss of his own royal person.
- RIVERS. Then is my sovereign slain?
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. Ay, almost slain, for he is taken prisoner;
- Either betray'd by falsehood of his guard
- Or by his foe surpris'd at unawares;
- And, as I further have to understand,
- Is new committed to the Bishop of York,
- Fell Warwick's brother, and by that our foe.
- RIVERS. These news, I must confess, are full of grief;
- Yet, gracious madam, bear it as you may:
- Warwick may lose that now hath won the day.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. Till then, fair hope must hinder life's decay.
- And I the rather wean me from despair
- For love of Edward's offspring in my womb.
- This is it that makes me bridle passion
- And bear with mildness my misfortune's cross;
- Ay, ay, for this I draw in many a tear
- And stop the rising of blood-sucking sighs,
- Lest with my sighs or tears I blast or drown
- King Edward's fruit, true heir to th' English crown.
- RIVERS. But, madam, where is Warwick then become?
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. I am inform'd that he comes towards London
- To set the crown once more on Henry's head.
- Guess thou the rest: King Edward's friends must down.
- But to prevent the tyrant's violence-
- For trust not him that hath once broken faith-
- I'll hence forthwith unto the sanctuary
- To save at least the heir of Edward's right.
- There shall I rest secure from force and fraud.
- Come, therefore, let us fly while we may fly:
- If Warwick take us, we are sure to die. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE V.
-A park near Middleham Castle in Yorkshire
-
-Enter GLOUCESTER, LORD HASTINGS, SIR WILLIAM STANLEY, and others
-
- GLOUCESTER. Now, my Lord Hastings and Sir William Stanley,
- Leave off to wonder why I drew you hither
- Into this chiefest thicket of the park.
- Thus stands the case: you know our King, my brother,
- Is prisoner to the Bishop here, at whose hands
- He hath good usage and great liberty;
- And often but attended with weak guard
- Comes hunting this way to disport himself.
- I have advertis'd him by secret means
- That if about this hour he make this way,
- Under the colour of his usual game,
- He shall here find his friends, with horse and men,
- To set him free from his captivity.
-
- Enter KING EDWARD and a HUNTSMAN with him
-
- HUNTSMAN. This way, my lord; for this way lies the game.
- KING EDWARD. Nay, this way, man. See where the huntsmen stand.
- Now, brother of Gloucester, Lord Hastings, and the rest,
- Stand you thus close to steal the Bishop's deer?
- GLOUCESTER. Brother, the time and case requireth haste;
- Your horse stands ready at the park corner.
- KING EDWARD. But whither shall we then?
- HASTINGS. To Lynn, my lord; and shipt from thence to Flanders.
- GLOUCESTER. Well guess'd, believe me; for that was my meaning.
- KING EDWARD. Stanley, I will requite thy forwardness.
- GLOUCESTER. But wherefore stay we? 'Tis no time to talk.
- KING EDWARD. Huntsman, what say'st thou? Wilt thou go along?
- HUNTSMAN. Better do so than tarry and be hang'd.
- GLOUCESTER. Come then, away; let's ha' no more ado.
- KING EDWARD. Bishop, farewell. Shield thee from Warwick's frown,
- And pray that I may repossess the crown. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE VI.
-London. The Tower
-
-Flourish. Enter KING HENRY, CLARENCE, WARWICK, SOMERSET, young HENRY,
-EARL OF RICHMOND, OXFORD, MONTAGUE, LIEUTENANT OF THE TOWER, and attendants
-
- KING HENRY. Master Lieutenant, now that God and friends
- Have shaken Edward from the regal seat
- And turn'd my captive state to liberty,
- My fear to hope, my sorrows unto joys,
- At our enlargement what are thy due fees?
- LIEUTENANT. Subjects may challenge nothing of their sov'reigns;
- But if an humble prayer may prevail,
- I then crave pardon of your Majesty.
- KING HENRY. For what, Lieutenant? For well using me?
- Nay, be thou sure I'll well requite thy kindness,
- For that it made my imprisonment a pleasure;
- Ay, such a pleasure as incaged birds
- Conceive when, after many moody thoughts,
- At last by notes of household harmony
- They quite forget their loss of liberty.
- But, Warwick, after God, thou set'st me free,
- And chiefly therefore I thank God and thee;
- He was the author, thou the instrument.
- Therefore, that I may conquer fortune's spite
- By living low where fortune cannot hurt me,
- And that the people of this blessed land
- May not be punish'd with my thwarting stars,
- Warwick, although my head still wear the crown,
- I here resign my government to thee,
- For thou art fortunate in all thy deeds.
- WARWICK. Your Grace hath still been fam'd for virtuous,
- And now may seem as wise as virtuous
- By spying and avoiding fortune's malice,
- For few men rightly temper with the stars;
- Yet in this one thing let me blame your Grace,
- For choosing me when Clarence is in place.
- CLARENCE. No, Warwick, thou art worthy of the sway,
- To whom the heav'ns in thy nativity
- Adjudg'd an olive branch and laurel crown,
- As likely to be blest in peace and war;
- And therefore I yield thee my free consent.
- WARWICK. And I choose Clarence only for Protector.
- KING HENRY. Warwick and Clarence, give me both your hands.
- Now join your hands, and with your hands your hearts,
- That no dissension hinder government.
- I make you both Protectors of this land,
- While I myself will lead a private life
- And in devotion spend my latter days,
- To sin's rebuke and my Creator's praise.
- WARWICK. What answers Clarence to his sovereign's will?
- CLARENCE. That he consents, if Warwick yield consent,
- For on thy fortune I repose myself.
- WARWICK. Why, then, though loath, yet must I be content.
- We'll yoke together, like a double shadow
- To Henry's body, and supply his place;
- I mean, in bearing weight of government,
- While he enjoys the honour and his ease.
- And, Clarence, now then it is more than needful
- Forthwith that Edward be pronounc'd a traitor,
- And all his lands and goods confiscated.
- CLARENCE. What else? And that succession be determin'd.
- WARWICK. Ay, therein Clarence shall not want his part.
- KING HENRY. But, with the first of all your chief affairs,
- Let me entreat- for I command no more-
- That Margaret your Queen and my son Edward
- Be sent for to return from France with speed;
- For till I see them here, by doubtful fear
- My joy of liberty is half eclips'd.
- CLARENCE. It shall be done, my sovereign, with all speed.
- KING HENRY. My Lord of Somerset, what youth is that,
- Of whom you seem to have so tender care?
- SOMERSET. My liege, it is young Henry, Earl of Richmond.
- KING HENRY. Come hither, England's hope.
- [Lays his hand on his head]
- If secret powers
- Suggest but truth to my divining thoughts,
- This pretty lad will prove our country's bliss.
- His looks are full of peaceful majesty;
- His head by nature fram'd to wear a crown,
- His hand to wield a sceptre; and himself
- Likely in time to bless a regal throne.
- Make much of him, my lords; for this is he
- Must help you more than you are hurt by me.
-
- Enter a POST
-
- WARWICK. What news, my friend?
- POST. That Edward is escaped from your brother
- And fled, as he hears since, to Burgundy.
- WARWICK. Unsavoury news! But how made he escape?
- POST. He was convey'd by Richard Duke of Gloucester
- And the Lord Hastings, who attended him
- In secret ambush on the forest side
- And from the Bishop's huntsmen rescu'd him;
- For hunting was his daily exercise.
- WARWICK. My brother was too careless of his charge.
- But let us hence, my sovereign, to provide
- A salve for any sore that may betide.
- Exeunt all but SOMERSET, RICHMOND, and OXFORD
- SOMERSET. My lord, I like not of this flight of Edward's;
- For doubtless Burgundy will yield him help,
- And we shall have more wars befor't be long.
- As Henry's late presaging prophecy
- Did glad my heart with hope of this young Richmond,
- So doth my heart misgive me, in these conflicts,
- What may befall him to his harm and ours.
- Therefore, Lord Oxford, to prevent the worst,
- Forthwith we'll send him hence to Brittany,
- Till storms be past of civil enmity.
- OXFORD. Ay, for if Edward repossess the crown,
- 'Tis like that Richmond with the rest shall down.
- SOMERSET. It shall be so; he shall to Brittany.
- Come therefore, let's about it speedily. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE VII.
-Before York
-
-Flourish. Enter KING EDWARD, GLOUCESTER, HASTINGS, and soldiers
-
- KING EDWARD. Now, brother Richard, Lord Hastings, and the rest,
- Yet thus far fortune maketh us amends,
- And says that once more I shall interchange
- My waned state for Henry's regal crown.
- Well have we pass'd and now repass'd the seas,
- And brought desired help from Burgundy;
- What then remains, we being thus arriv'd
- From Ravenspurgh haven before the gates of York,
- But that we enter, as into our dukedom?
- GLOUCESTER. The gates made fast! Brother, I like not this;
- For many men that stumble at the threshold
- Are well foretold that danger lurks within.
- KING EDWARD. Tush, man, abodements must not now affright us.
- By fair or foul means we must enter in,
- For hither will our friends repair to us.
- HASTINGS. My liege, I'll knock once more to summon them.
-
- Enter, on the walls, the MAYOR OF YORK and
- his BRETHREN
-
- MAYOR. My lords, we were forewarned of your coming
- And shut the gates for safety of ourselves,
- For now we owe allegiance unto Henry.
- KING EDWARD. But, Master Mayor, if Henry be your King,
- Yet Edward at the least is Duke of York.
- MAYOR. True, my good lord; I know you for no less.
- KING EDWARD. Why, and I challenge nothing but my dukedom,
- As being well content with that alone.
- GLOUCESTER. [Aside] But when the fox hath once got in his nose,
- He'll soon find means to make the body follow.
- HASTINGS. Why, Master Mayor, why stand you in a doubt?
- Open the gates; we are King Henry's friends.
- MAYOR. Ay, say you so? The gates shall then be open'd.
- [He descends]
- GLOUCESTER. A wise stout captain, and soon persuaded!
- HASTINGS. The good old man would fain that all were well,
- So 'twere not long of him; but being ent'red,
- I doubt not, I, but we shall soon persuade
- Both him and all his brothers unto reason.
-
- Enter, below, the MAYOR and two ALDERMEN
-
- KING EDWARD. So, Master Mayor. These gates must not be shut
- But in the night or in the time of war.
- What! fear not, man, but yield me up the keys;
- [Takes his keys]
- For Edward will defend the town and thee,
- And all those friends that deign to follow me.
-
- March. Enter MONTGOMERY with drum and soldiers
-
- GLOUCESTER. Brother, this is Sir John Montgomery,
- Our trusty friend, unless I be deceiv'd.
- KING EDWARD. Welcome, Sir john! But why come you in arms?
- MONTGOMERY. To help King Edward in his time of storm,
- As every loyal subject ought to do.
- KING EDWARD. Thanks, good Montgomery; but we now forget
- Our title to the crown, and only claim
- Our dukedom till God please to send the rest.
- MONTGOMERY. Then fare you well, for I will hence again.
- I came to serve a king and not a duke.
- Drummer, strike up, and let us march away.
- [The drum begins to march]
- KING EDWARD. Nay, stay, Sir John, a while, and we'll debate
- By what safe means the crown may be recover'd.
- MONTGOMERY. What talk you of debating? In few words:
- If you'll not here proclaim yourself our King,
- I'll leave you to your fortune and be gone
- To keep them back that come to succour you.
- Why shall we fight, if you pretend no title?
- GLOUCESTER. Why, brother, wherefore stand you on nice points?
- KING EDWARD. When we grow stronger, then we'll make our claim;
- Till then 'tis wisdom to conceal our meaning.
- HASTINGS. Away with scrupulous wit! Now arms must rule.
- GLOUCESTER. And fearless minds climb soonest unto crowns.
- Brother, we will proclaim you out of hand;
- The bruit thereof will bring you many friends.
- KING EDWARD. Then be it as you will; for 'tis my right,
- And Henry but usurps the diadem.
- MONTGOMERY. Ay, now my sovereign speaketh like himself;
- And now will I be Edward's champion.
- HASTINGS. Sound trumpet; Edward shall be here proclaim'd.
- Come, fellow soldier, make thou proclamation.
- [Gives him a paper. Flourish]
- SOLDIER. [Reads] 'Edward the Fourth, by the grace of God,
- King of England and France, and Lord of Ireland, &c.'
- MONTGOMERY. And whoso'er gainsays King Edward's right,
- By this I challenge him to single fight.
- [Throws down gauntlet]
- ALL. Long live Edward the Fourth!
- KING EDWARD. Thanks, brave Montgomery, and thanks unto you all;
- If fortune serve me, I'll requite this kindness.
- Now for this night let's harbour here in York;
- And when the morning sun shall raise his car
- Above the border of this horizon,
- We'll forward towards Warwick and his mates;
- For well I wot that Henry is no soldier.
- Ah, froward Clarence, how evil it beseems the
- To flatter Henry and forsake thy brother!
- Yet, as we may, we'll meet both thee and Warwick.
- Come on, brave soldiers; doubt not of the day,
- And, that once gotten, doubt not of large pay. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE VIII.
-London. The palace
-
-Flourish. Enter KING HENRY, WARWICK, MONTAGUE, CLARENCE, OXFORD, and EXETER
-
- WARWICK. What counsel, lords? Edward from Belgia,
- With hasty Germans and blunt Hollanders,
- Hath pass'd in safety through the narrow seas
- And with his troops doth march amain to London;
- And many giddy people flock to him.
- KING HENRY. Let's levy men and beat him back again.
- CLARENCE. A little fire is quickly trodden out,
- Which, being suffer'd, rivers cannot quench.
- WARWICK. In Warwickshire I have true-hearted friends,
- Not mutinous in peace, yet bold in war;
- Those will I muster up, and thou, son Clarence,
- Shalt stir up in Suffolk, Norfolk, and in Kent,
- The knights and gentlemen to come with thee.
- Thou, brother Montague, in Buckingham,
- Northampton, and in Leicestershire, shalt find
- Men well inclin'd to hear what thou command'st.
- And thou, brave Oxford, wondrous well belov'd,
- In Oxfordshire shalt muster up thy friends.
- My sovereign, with the loving citizens,
- Like to his island girt in with the ocean
- Or modest Dian circled with her nymphs,
- Shall rest in London till we come to him.
- Fair lords, take leave and stand not to reply.
- Farewell, my sovereign.
- KING HENRY. Farewell, my Hector and my Troy's true hope.
- CLARENCE. In sign of truth, I kiss your Highness' hand.
- KING HENRY. Well-minded Clarence, be thou fortunate!
- MONTAGUE. Comfort, my lord; and so I take my leave.
- OXFORD. [Kissing the KING'S band] And thus I seal my truth and bid
- adieu.
- KING HENRY. Sweet Oxford, and my loving Montague,
- And all at once, once more a happy farewell.
- WARWICK. Farewell, sweet lords; let's meet at Coventry.
- Exeunt all but the KING and EXETER
- KING HENRY. Here at the palace will I rest a while.
- Cousin of Exeter, what thinks your lordship?
- Methinks the power that Edward hath in field
- Should not be able to encounter mine.
- EXETER. The doubt is that he will seduce the rest.
- KING HENRY. That's not my fear; my meed hath got me fame:
- I have not stopp'd mine ears to their demands,
- Nor posted off their suits with slow delays;
- My pity hath been balm to heal their wounds,
- My mildness hath allay'd their swelling griefs,
- My mercy dried their water-flowing tears;
- I have not been desirous of their wealth,
- Nor much oppress'd them with great subsidies,
- Nor forward of revenge, though they much err'd.
- Then why should they love Edward more than me?
- No, Exeter, these graces challenge grace;
- And, when the lion fawns upon the lamb,
- The lamb will never cease to follow him.
- [Shout within 'A Lancaster! A Lancaster!']
- EXETER. Hark, hark, my lord! What shouts are these?
-
- Enter KING EDWARD, GLOUCESTER, and soldiers
-
- KING EDWARD. Seize on the shame-fac'd Henry, bear him hence;
- And once again proclaim us King of England.
- You are the fount that makes small brooks to flow.
- Now stops thy spring; my sea shall suck them dry,
- And swell so much the higher by their ebb.
- Hence with him to the Tower: let him not speak.
- Exeunt some with KING HENRY
- And, lords, towards Coventry bend we our course,
- Where peremptory Warwick now remains.
- The sun shines hot; and, if we use delay,
- Cold biting winter mars our hop'd-for hay.
- GLOUCESTER. Away betimes, before his forces join,
- And take the great-grown traitor unawares.
- Brave warriors, march amain towards Coventry. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT V. SCENE I.
-Coventry
-
-Enter WARWICK, the MAYOR OF COVENTRY, two MESSENGERS,
-and others upon the walls
-
- WARWICK. Where is the post that came from valiant Oxford?
- How far hence is thy lord, mine honest fellow?
- FIRST MESSENGER. By this at Dunsmore, marching hitherward.
- WARWICK. How far off is our brother Montague?
- Where is the post that came from Montague?
- SECOND MESSENGER. By this at Daintry, with a puissant troop.
-
- Enter SIR JOHN SOMERVILLE
-
- WARWICK. Say, Somerville, what says my loving son?
- And by thy guess how nigh is Clarence now?
- SOMERVILLE. At Southam I did leave him with his forces,
- And do expect him here some two hours hence.
- [Drum heard]
- WARWICK. Then Clarence is at hand; I hear his drum.
- SOMERVILLE. It is not his, my lord; here Southam lies.
- The drum your Honour hears marcheth from Warwick.
- WARWICK. Who should that be? Belike unlook'd for friends.
- SOMERVILLE. They are at hand, and you shall quickly know.
-
- March. Flourish. Enter KING EDWARD, GLOUCESTER,
- and soldiers
-
- KING EDWARD. Go, trumpet, to the walls, and sound a parle.
- GLOUCESTER. See how the surly Warwick mans the wall.
- WARWICK. O unbid spite! Is sportful Edward come?
- Where slept our scouts or how are they seduc'd
- That we could hear no news of his repair?
- KING EDWARD. Now, Warwick, wilt thou ope the city gates,
- Speak gentle words, and humbly bend thy knee,
- Call Edward King, and at his hands beg mercy?
- And he shall pardon thee these outrages.
- WARWICK. Nay, rather, wilt thou draw thy forces hence,
- Confess who set thee up and pluck'd thee down,
- Call Warwick patron, and be penitent?
- And thou shalt still remain the Duke of York.
- GLOUCESTER. I thought, at least, he would have said the King;
- Or did he make the jest against his will?
- WARWICK. Is not a dukedom, sir, a goodly gift?
- GLOUCESTER. Ay, by my faith, for a poor earl to give.
- I'll do thee service for so good a gift.
- WARWICK. 'Twas I that gave the kingdom to thy brother.
- KING EDWARD. Why then 'tis mine, if but by Warwick's gift.
- WARWICK. Thou art no Atlas for so great a weight;
- And, weakling, Warwick takes his gift again;
- And Henry is my King, Warwick his subject.
- KING EDWARD. But Warwick's king is Edward's prisoner.
- And, gallant Warwick, do but answer this:
- What is the body when the head is off?
- GLOUCESTER. Alas, that Warwick had no more forecast,
- But, whiles he thought to steal the single ten,
- The king was slily finger'd from the deck!
- You left poor Henry at the Bishop's palace,
- And ten to one you'll meet him in the Tower.
- KING EDWARD. 'Tis even so; yet you are Warwick still.
- GLOUCESTER. Come, Warwick, take the time; kneel down, kneel down.
- Nay, when? Strike now, or else the iron cools.
- WARWICK. I had rather chop this hand off at a blow,
- And with the other fling it at thy face,
- Than bear so low a sail to strike to thee.
- KING EDWARD. Sail how thou canst, have wind and tide thy friend,
- This hand, fast wound about thy coal-black hair,
- Shall, whiles thy head is warm and new cut off,
- Write in the dust this sentence with thy blood:
- 'Wind-changing Warwick now can change no more.'
-
- Enter OXFORD, with drum and colours
-
- WARWICK. O cheerful colours! See where Oxford comes.
- OXFORD. Oxford, Oxford, for Lancaster!
- [He and his forces enter the city]
- GLOUCESTER. The gates are open, let us enter too.
- KING EDWARD. So other foes may set upon our backs.
- Stand we in good array, for they no doubt
- Will issue out again and bid us battle;
- If not, the city being but of small defence,
- We'll quietly rouse the traitors in the same.
- WARWICK. O, welcome, Oxford! for we want thy help.
-
- Enter MONTAGUE, with drum and colours
-
- MONTAGUE. Montague, Montague, for Lancaster!
- [He and his forces enter the city]
- GLOUCESTER. Thou and thy brother both shall buy this treason
- Even with the dearest blood your bodies bear.
- KING EDWARD. The harder match'd, the greater victory.
- My mind presageth happy gain and conquest.
-
- Enter SOMERSET, with drum and colours
-
- SOMERSET. Somerset, Somerset, for Lancaster!
- [He and his forces enter the city]
- GLOUCESTER. Two of thy name, both Dukes of Somerset,
- Have sold their lives unto the house of York;
- And thou shalt be the third, if this sword hold.
-
- Enter CLARENCE, with drum and colours
-
- WARWICK. And lo where George of Clarence sweeps along,
- Of force enough to bid his brother battle;
- With whom an upright zeal to right prevails
- More than the nature of a brother's love.
- CLARENCE. Clarence, Clarence, for Lancaster!
- KING EDWARD. Et tu Brute- wilt thou stab Caesar too?
- A parley, sirrah, to George of Clarence.
- [Sound a parley. RICHARD and CLARENCE whisper]
- WARWICK. Come, Clarence, come. Thou wilt if Warwick call.
- CLARENCE. [Taking the red rose from his hat and throwing
- it at WARWICK]
- Father of Warwick, know you what this means?
- Look here, I throw my infamy at thee.
- I will not ruinate my father's house,
- Who gave his blood to lime the stones together,
- And set up Lancaster. Why, trowest thou, Warwick,
- That Clarence is so harsh, so blunt, unnatural,
- To bend the fatal instruments of war
- Against his brother and his lawful King?
- Perhaps thou wilt object my holy oath.
- To keep that oath were more impiety
- Than Jephtha when he sacrific'd his daughter.
- I am so sorry for my trespass made
- That, to deserve well at my brother's hands,
- I here proclaim myself thy mortal foe;
- With resolution whereso'er I meet thee-
- As I will meet thee, if thou stir abroad-
- To plague thee for thy foul misleading me.
- And so, proud-hearted Warwick, I defy thee,
- And to my brother turn my blushing cheeks.
- Pardon me, Edward, I will make amends;
- And, Richard, do not frown upon my faults,
- For I will henceforth be no more unconstant.
- KING EDWARD. Now welcome more, and ten times more belov'd,
- Than if thou never hadst deserv'd our hate.
- GLOUCESTER. Welcome, good Clarence; this is brother-like.
- WARWICK. O passing traitor, perjur'd and unjust!
- KING EDWARD. What, Warwick, wilt thou leave die town and fight?
- Or shall we beat the stones about thine ears?
- WARWICK. Alas, I am not coop'd here for defence!
- I will away towards Barnet presently
- And bid thee battle, Edward, if thou dar'st.
- KING EDWARD. Yes, Warwick, Edward dares and leads the way.
- Lords, to the field; Saint George and victory!
- Exeunt YORKISTS
- [March. WARWICK and his company follow]
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-A field of battle near Barnet
-
-Alarum and excursions. Enter KING EDWARD, bringing forth WARWICK, wounded
-
- KING EDWARD. So, lie thou there. Die thou, and die our fear;
- For Warwick was a bug that fear'd us all.
- Now, Montague, sit fast; I seek for thee,
- That Warwick's bones may keep thine company. Exit
- WARWICK. Ah, who is nigh? Come to me, friend or foe,
- And tell me who is victor, York or Warwick?
- Why ask I that? My mangled body shows,
- My blood, my want of strength, my sick heart shows,
- That I must yield my body to the earth
- And, by my fall, the conquest to my foe.
- Thus yields the cedar to the axe's edge,
- Whose arms gave shelter to the princely eagle,
- Under whose shade the ramping lion slept,
- Whose top-branch overpeer'd Jove's spreading tree
- And kept low shrubs from winter's pow'rful wind.
- These eyes, that now are dimm'd with death's black veil,
- Have been as piercing as the mid-day sun
- To search the secret treasons of the world;
- The wrinkles in my brows, now fill'd with blood,
- Were lik'ned oft to kingly sepulchres;
- For who liv'd King, but I could dig his grave?
- And who durst smile when Warwick bent his brow?
- Lo now my glory smear'd in dust and blood!
- My parks, my walks, my manors, that I had,
- Even now forsake me; and of all my lands
- Is nothing left me but my body's length.
- what is pomp, rule, reign, but earth and dust?
- And live we how we can, yet die we must.
-
- Enter OXFORD and SOMERSET
-
- SOMERSET. Ah, Warwick, Warwick! wert thou as we are,
- We might recover all our loss again.
- The Queen from France hath brought a puissant power;
- Even now we heard the news. Ah, couldst thou fly!
- WARWICK. Why then, I would not fly. Ah, Montague,
- If thou be there, sweet brother, take my hand,
- And with thy lips keep in my soul a while!
- Thou lov'st me not; for, brother, if thou didst,
- Thy tears would wash this cold congealed blood
- That glues my lips and will not let me speak.
- Come quickly, Montague, or I am dead.
- SOMERSET. Ah, Warwick! Montague hath breath'd his last;
- And to the latest gasp cried out for Warwick,
- And said 'Commend me to my valiant brother.'
- And more he would have said; and more he spoke,
- Which sounded like a clamour in a vault,
- That mought not be distinguish'd; but at last,
- I well might hear, delivered with a groan,
- 'O farewell, Warwick!'
- WARWICK. Sweet rest his soul! Fly, lords, and save yourselves:
- For Warwick bids you all farewell, to meet in heaven.
- [Dies]
- OXFORD. Away, away, to meet the Queen's great power!
- [Here they bear away his body]
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-Another part of the field
-
-Flourish. Enter KING in triumph; with GLOUCESTER, CLARENCE, and the rest
-
- KING EDWARD. Thus far our fortune keeps an upward course,
- And we are grac'd with wreaths of victory.
- But in the midst of this bright-shining day
- I spy a black, suspicious, threat'ning cloud
- That will encounter with our glorious sun
- Ere he attain his easeful western bed-
- I mean, my lords, those powers that the Queen
- Hath rais'd in Gallia have arriv'd our coast
- And, as we hear, march on to fight with us.
- CLARENCE. A little gale will soon disperse that cloud
- And blow it to the source from whence it came;
- Thy very beams will dry those vapours up,
- For every cloud engenders not a storm.
- GLOUCESTER. The Queen is valued thirty thousand strong,
- And Somerset, with Oxford, fled to her.
- If she have time to breathe, be well assur'd
- Her faction will be full as strong as ours.
- KING EDWARD. are advertis'd by our loving friends
- That they do hold their course toward Tewksbury;
- We, having now the best at Barnet field,
- Will thither straight, for willingness rids way;
- And as we march our strength will be augmented
- In every county as we go along.
- Strike up the drum; cry 'Courage!' and away. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE IV.
-Plains wear Tewksbury
-
-Flourish. March. Enter QUEEN MARGARET, PRINCE EDWARD, SOMERSET, OXFORD,
-and SOLDIERS
-
- QUEEN MARGARET. Great lords, wise men ne'er sit and wail their
- loss,
- But cheerly seek how to redress their harms.
- What though the mast be now blown overboard,
- The cable broke, the holding-anchor lost,
- And half our sailors swallow'd in the flood;
- Yet lives our pilot still. Is't meet that he
- Should leave the helm and, like a fearful lad,
- With tearful eyes add water to the sea
- And give more strength to that which hath too much;
- Whiles, in his moan, the ship splits on the rock,
- Which industry and courage might have sav'd?
- Ah, what a shame! ah, what a fault were this!
- Say Warwick was our anchor; what of that?
- And Montague our top-mast; what of him?
- Our slaught'red friends the tackles; what of these?
- Why, is not Oxford here another anchor?
- And Somerset another goodly mast?
- The friends of France our shrouds and tacklings?
- And, though unskilful, why not Ned and I
- For once allow'd the skilful pilot's charge?
- We will not from the helm to sit and weep,
- But keep our course, though the rough wind say no,
- From shelves and rocks that threaten us with wreck,
- As good to chide the waves as speak them fair.
- And what is Edward but a ruthless sea?
- What Clarence but a quicksand of deceit?
- And Richard but a ragged fatal rock?
- All these the enemies to our poor bark.
- Say you can swim; alas, 'tis but a while!
- Tread on the sand; why, there you quickly sink.
- Bestride the rock; the tide will wash you off,
- Or else you famish- that's a threefold death.
- This speak I, lords, to let you understand,
- If case some one of you would fly from us,
- That there's no hop'd-for mercy with the brothers
- More than with ruthless waves, with sands, and rocks.
- Why, courage then! What cannot be avoided
- 'Twere childish weakness to lament or fear.
- PRINCE OF WALES. Methinks a woman of this valiant spirit
- Should, if a coward hear her speak these words,
- Infuse his breast with magnanimity
- And make him naked foil a man-at-arms.
- I speak not this as doubting any here;
- For did I but suspect a fearful man,
- He should have leave to go away betimes,
- Lest in our need he might infect another
- And make him of the like spirit to himself.
- If any such be here- as God forbid!-
- Let him depart before we need his help.
- OXFORD. Women and children of so high a courage,
- And warriors faint! Why, 'twere perpetual shame.
- O brave young Prince! thy famous grandfather
- Doth live again in thee. Long mayst thou Eve
- To bear his image and renew his glories!
- SOMERSET. And he that will not fight for such a hope,
- Go home to bed and, like the owl by day,
- If he arise, be mock'd and wond'red at.
- QUEEN MARGARET. Thanks, gentle Somerset; sweet Oxford, thanks.
- PRINCE OF WALES. And take his thanks that yet hath nothing else.
-
- Enter a MESSENGER
-
- MESSENGER. Prepare you, lords, for Edward is at hand
- Ready to fight; therefore be resolute.
- OXFORD. I thought no less. It is his policy
- To haste thus fast, to find us unprovided.
- SOMERSET. But he's deceiv'd; we are in readiness.
- QUEEN MARGARET. This cheers my heart, to see your forwardness.
- OXFORD. Here pitch our battle; hence we will not budge.
-
- Flourish and march. Enter, at a distance, KING EDWARD,
- GLOUCESTER, CLARENCE, and soldiers
-
- KING EDWARD. Brave followers, yonder stands the thorny wood
- Which, by the heavens' assistance and your strength,
- Must by the roots be hewn up yet ere night.
- I need not add more fuel to your fire,
- For well I wot ye blaze to burn them out.
- Give signal to the fight, and to it, lords.
- QUEEN MARGARET. Lords, knights, and gentlemen, what I should say
- My tears gainsay; for every word I speak,
- Ye see, I drink the water of my eye.
- Therefore, no more but this: Henry, your sovereign,
- Is prisoner to the foe; his state usurp'd,
- His realm a slaughter-house, his subjects slain,
- His statutes cancell'd, and his treasure spent;
- And yonder is the wolf that makes this spoil.
- You fight in justice. Then, in God's name, lords,
- Be valiant, and give signal to the fight.
- Alarum, retreat, excursions. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE V.
-Another part of the field
-
-Flourish. Enter KING EDWARD, GLOUCESTER, CLARENCE, and forces,
-With QUEEN MARGARET, OXFORD, and SOMERSET, prisoners
-
- KING EDWARD. Now here a period of tumultuous broils.
- Away with Oxford to Hames Castle straight;
- For Somerset, off with his guilty head.
- Go, bear them hence; I will not hear them speak.
- OXFORD. For my part, I'll not trouble thee with words.
- SOMERSET. Nor I, but stoop with patience to my fortune.
- Exeunt OXFORD and SOMERSET, guarded
- QUEEN MARGARET. So part we sadly in this troublous world,
- To meet with joy in sweet Jerusalem.
- KING EDWARD. Is proclamation made that who finds Edward
- Shall have a high reward, and he his life?
- GLOUCESTER. It is; and lo where youthful Edward comes.
-
- Enter soldiers, with PRINCE EDWARD
-
- KING EDWARD. Bring forth the gallant; let us hear him speak.
- What, can so young a man begin to prick?
- Edward, what satisfaction canst thou make
- For bearing arms, for stirring up my subjects,
- And all the trouble thou hast turn'd me to?
- PRINCE OF WALES. Speak like a subject, proud ambitious York.
- Suppose that I am now my father's mouth;
- Resign thy chair, and where I stand kneel thou,
- Whilst I propose the self-same words to the
- Which, traitor, thou wouldst have me answer to.
- QUEEN MARGARET. Ah, that thy father had been so resolv'd!
- GLOUCESTER. That you might still have worn the petticoat
- And ne'er have stol'n the breech from Lancaster.
- PRINCE OF WALES. Let Aesop fable in a winter's night;
- His currish riddle sorts not with this place.
- GLOUCESTER. By heaven, brat, I'll plague ye for that word.
- QUEEN MARGARET. Ay, thou wast born to be a plague to men.
- GLOUCESTER. For God's sake, take away this captive scold.
- PRINCE OF WALES. Nay, take away this scolding crookback rather.
- KING EDWARD. Peace, wilful boy, or I will charm your tongue.
- CLARENCE. Untutor'd lad, thou art too malapert.
- PRINCE OF WALES. I know my duty; you are all undutiful.
- Lascivious Edward, and thou perjur'd George,
- And thou misshapen Dick, I tell ye all
- I am your better, traitors as ye are;
- And thou usurp'st my father's right and mine.
- KING EDWARD. Take that, the likeness of this railer here.
- [Stabs him]
- GLOUCESTER. Sprawl'st thou? Take that, to end thy agony.
- [Stabs him]
- CLARENCE. And there's for twitting me with perjury.
- [Stabs him]
- QUEEN MARGARET. O, kill me too!
- GLOUCESTER. Marry, and shall. [Offers to kill her]
- KING EDWARD. Hold, Richard, hold; for we have done to much.
- GLOUCESTER. Why should she live to fill the world with words?
- KING EDWARD. What, doth she swoon? Use means for her recovery.
- GLOUCESTER. Clarence, excuse me to the King my brother.
- I'll hence to London on a serious matter;
- Ere ye come there, be sure to hear some news.
- CLARENCE. What? what?
- GLOUCESTER. The Tower! the Tower! Exit
- QUEEN MARGARET. O Ned, sweet Ned, speak to thy mother, boy!
- Canst thou not speak? O traitors! murderers!
- They that stabb'd Caesar shed no blood at all,
- Did not offend, nor were not worthy blame,
- If this foul deed were by to equal it.
- He was a man: this, in respect, a child;
- And men ne'er spend their fury on a child.
- What's worse than murderer, that I may name it?
- No, no, my heart will burst, an if I speak-
- And I will speak, that so my heart may burst.
- Butchers and villains! bloody cannibals!
- How sweet a plant have you untimely cropp'd!
- You have no children, butchers, if you had,
- The thought of them would have stirr'd up remorse.
- But if you ever chance to have a child,
- Look in his youth to have him so cut off
- As, deathsmen, you have rid this sweet young prince!
- KING EDWARD. Away with her; go, bear her hence perforce.
- QUEEN MARGARET. Nay, never bear me hence; dispatch me here.
- Here sheathe thy sword; I'll pardon thee my death.
- What, wilt thou not? Then, Clarence, do it thou.
- CLARENCE. By heaven, I will not do thee so much ease.
- QUEEN MARGARET. Good Clarence, do; sweet Clarence, do thou do it.
- CLARENCE. Didst thou not hear me swear I would not do it?
- QUEEN MARGARET. Ay, but thou usest to forswear thyself.
- 'Twas sin before, but now 'tis charity.
- What! wilt thou not? Where is that devil's butcher,
- Hard-favour'd Richard? Richard, where art thou?
- Thou art not here. Murder is thy alms-deed;
- Petitioners for blood thou ne'er put'st back.
- KING EDWARD. Away, I say; I charge ye bear her hence.
- QUEEN MARGARET. So come to you and yours as to this prince.
- Exit, led out forcibly
- KING EDWARD. Where's Richard gone?
- CLARENCE. To London, all in post; and, as I guess,
- To make a bloody supper in the Tower.
- KING EDWARD. He's sudden, if a thing comes in his head.
- Now march we hence. Discharge the common sort
- With pay and thanks; and let's away to London
- And see our gentle queen how well she fares.
- By this, I hope, she hath a son for me. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE VI.
-London. The Tower
-
-Enter KING HENRY and GLOUCESTER with the LIEUTENANT, on the walls
-
- GLOUCESTER. Good day, my lord. What, at your book so hard?
- KING HENRY. Ay, my good lord- my lord, I should say rather.
- 'Tis sin to flatter; 'good' was little better.
- 'Good Gloucester' and 'good devil' were alike,
- And both preposterous; therefore, not 'good lord.'
- GLOUCESTER. Sirrah, leave us to ourselves; we must confer.
- Exit LIEUTENANT
- KING HENRY. So flies the reckless shepherd from the wolf;
- So first the harmless sheep doth yield his fleece,
- And next his throat unto the butcher's knife.
- What scene of death hath Roscius now to act?
- GLOUCESTER. Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind:
- The thief doth fear each bush an officer.
- KING HENRY. The bird that hath been limed in a bush
- With trembling wings misdoubteth every bush;
- And I, the hapless male to one sweet bird,
- Have now the fatal object in my eye
- Where my poor young was lim'd, was caught, and kill'd.
- GLOUCESTER. Why, what a peevish fool was that of Crete
- That taught his son the office of a fowl!
- And yet, for all his wings, the fool was drown'd.
- KING HENRY. I, Daedalus; my poor boy, Icarus;
- Thy father, Minos, that denied our course;
- The sun that sear'd the wings of my sweet boy,
- Thy brother Edward; and thyself, the sea
- Whose envious gulf did swallow up his life.
- Ah, kill me with thy weapon, not with words!
- My breast can better brook thy dagger's point
- Than can my ears that tragic history.
- But wherefore dost thou come? Is't for my life?
- GLOUCESTER. Think'st thou I am an executioner?
- KING HENRY. A persecutor I am sure thou art.
- If murdering innocents be executing,
- Why, then thou are an executioner.
- GLOUCESTER. Thy son I kill'd for his presumption.
- KING HENRY. Hadst thou been kill'd when first thou didst presume,
- Thou hadst not liv'd to kill a son of mine.
- And thus I prophesy, that many a thousand
- Which now mistrust no parcel of my fear,
- And many an old man's sigh, and many a widow's,
- And many an orphan's water-standing eye-
- Men for their sons, wives for their husbands,
- Orphans for their parents' timeless death-
- Shall rue the hour that ever thou wast born.
- The owl shriek'd at thy birth- an evil sign;
- The night-crow cried, aboding luckless time;
- Dogs howl'd, and hideous tempest shook down trees;
- The raven rook'd her on the chimney's top,
- And chatt'ring pies in dismal discords sung;
- Thy mother felt more than a mother's pain,
- And yet brought forth less than a mother's hope,
- To wit, an indigest deformed lump,
- Not like the fruit of such a goodly tree.
- Teeth hadst thou in thy head when thou wast born,
- To signify thou cam'st to bite the world;
- And if the rest be true which I have heard,
- Thou cam'st-
- GLOUCESTER. I'll hear no more. Die, prophet, in thy speech.
- [Stabs him]
- For this, amongst the rest, was I ordain'd.
- KING HENRY. Ay, and for much more slaughter after this.
- O, God forgive my sins and pardon thee! [Dies]
- GLOUCESTER. What, will the aspiring blood of Lancaster
- Sink in the ground? I thought it would have mounted.
- See how my sword weeps for the poor King's death.
- O, may such purple tears be always shed
- From those that wish the downfall of our house!
- If any spark of life be yet remaining,
- Down, down to hell; and say I sent thee thither-
- [Stabs him again]
- I, that have neither pity, love, nor fear.
- Indeed, 'tis true that Henry told me of;
- For I have often heard my mother say
- I came into the world with my legs forward.
- Had I not reason, think ye, to make haste
- And seek their ruin that usurp'd our right?
- The midwife wonder'd; and the women cried
- 'O, Jesus bless us, he is born with teeth!'
- And so I was, which plainly signified
- That I should snarl, and bite, and play the dog.
- Then, since the heavens have shap'd my body so,
- Let hell make crook'd my mind to answer it.
- I have no brother, I am like no brother;
- And this word 'love,' which greybeards call divine,
- Be resident in men like one another,
- And not in me! I am myself alone.
- Clarence, beware; thou keep'st me from the light,
- But I will sort a pitchy day for thee;
- For I will buzz abroad such prophecies
- That Edward shall be fearful of his life;
- And then to purge his fear, I'll be thy death.
- King Henry and the Prince his son are gone.
- Clarence, thy turn is next, and then the rest;
- Counting myself but bad till I be best.
- I'll throw thy body in another room,
- And triumph, Henry, in thy day of doom.
- Exit with the body
-
-
-
-
-SCENE VII.
-London. The palace
-
-Flourish. Enter KING EDWARD, QUEEN ELIZABETH, CLARENCE, GLOUCESTER,
-HASTINGS, NURSE, with the Young PRINCE, and attendants
-
- KING EDWARD. Once more we sit in England's royal throne,
- Repurchas'd with the blood of enemies.
- What valiant foemen, like to autumn's corn,
- Have we mow'd down in tops of all their pride!
- Three Dukes of Somerset, threefold renown'd
- For hardy and undoubted champions;
- Two Cliffords, as the father and the son;
- And two Northumberlands- two braver men
- Ne'er spurr'd their coursers at the trumpet's sound;
- With them the two brave bears, Warwick and Montague,
- That in their chains fetter'd the kingly lion
- And made the forest tremble when they roar'd.
- Thus have we swept suspicion from our seat
- And made our footstool of security.
- Come hither, Bess, and let me kiss my boy.
- Young Ned, for thee thine uncles and myself
- Have in our armours watch'd the winter's night,
- Went all afoot in summer's scalding heat,
- That thou might'st repossess the crown in peace;
- And of our labours thou shalt reap the gain.
- GLOUCESTER. [Aside] I'll blast his harvest if your head were laid;
- For yet I am not look'd on in the world.
- This shoulder was ordain'd so thick to heave;
- And heave it shall some weight or break my back.
- Work thou the way- and that shall execute.
- KING EDWARD. Clarence and Gloucester, love my lovely queen;
- And kiss your princely nephew, brothers both.
- CLARENCE. The duty that I owe unto your Majesty
- I seal upon the lips of this sweet babe.
- KING EDWARD. Thanks, noble Clarence; worthy brother, thanks.
- GLOUCESTER. And that I love the tree from whence thou sprang'st,
- Witness the loving kiss I give the fruit.
- [Aside] To say the truth, so Judas kiss'd his master
- And cried 'All hail!' when as he meant all harm.
- KING EDWARD. Now am I seated as my soul delights,
- Having my country's peace and brothers' loves.
- CLARENCE. What will your Grace have done with Margaret?
- Reignier, her father, to the King of France
- Hath pawn'd the Sicils and Jerusalem,
- And hither have they sent it for her ransom.
- KING EDWARD. Away with her, and waft her hence to France.
- And now what rests but that we spend the time
- With stately triumphs, mirthful comic shows,
- Such as befits the pleasure of the court?
- Sound drums and trumpets. Farewell, sour annoy!
- For here, I hope, begins our lasting joy. Exeunt
-
-
-THE END
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-
-
-1611
-
-KING HENRY THE EIGHTH
-
-by William Shakespeare
-
-
-DRAMATIS PERSONAE
-
- KING HENRY THE EIGHTH
- CARDINAL WOLSEY CARDINAL CAMPEIUS
- CAPUCIUS, Ambassador from the Emperor Charles V
- CRANMER, ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY
- DUKE OF NORFOLK DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM
- DUKE OF SUFFOLK EARL OF SURREY
- LORD CHAMBERLAIN LORD CHANCELLOR
- GARDINER, BISHOP OF WINCHESTER
- BISHOP OF LINCOLN LORD ABERGAVENNY
- LORD SANDYS SIR HENRY GUILDFORD
- SIR THOMAS LOVELL SIR ANTHONY DENNY
- SIR NICHOLAS VAUX SECRETARIES to Wolsey
- CROMWELL, servant to Wolsey
- GRIFFITH, gentleman-usher to Queen Katharine
- THREE GENTLEMEN
- DOCTOR BUTTS, physician to the King
- GARTER KING-AT-ARMS
- SURVEYOR to the Duke of Buckingham
- BRANDON, and a SERGEANT-AT-ARMS
- DOORKEEPER Of the Council chamber
- PORTER, and his MAN PAGE to Gardiner
- A CRIER
-
- QUEEN KATHARINE, wife to King Henry, afterwards divorced
- ANNE BULLEN, her Maid of Honour, afterwards Queen
- AN OLD LADY, friend to Anne Bullen
- PATIENCE, woman to Queen Katharine
-
- Lord Mayor, Aldermen, Lords and Ladies in the Dumb
- Shows; Women attending upon the Queen; Scribes,
- Officers, Guards, and other Attendants; Spirits
-
- SCENE:
-
- London; Westminster; Kimbolton
-
-
-
- KING HENRY THE EIGHTH
-
- THE PROLOGUE.
-
- I come no more to make you laugh; things now
- That bear a weighty and a serious brow,
- Sad, high, and working, full of state and woe,
- Such noble scenes as draw the eye to flow,
- We now present. Those that can pity here
- May, if they think it well, let fall a tear:
- The subject will deserve it. Such as give
- Their money out of hope they may believe
- May here find truth too. Those that come to see
- Only a show or two, and so agree
- The play may pass, if they be still and willing,
- I'll undertake may see away their shilling
- Richly in two short hours. Only they
- That come to hear a merry bawdy play,
- A noise of targets, or to see a fellow
- In a long motley coat guarded with yellow,
- Will be deceiv'd; for, gentle hearers, know,
- To rank our chosen truth with such a show
- As fool and fight is, beside forfeiting
- Our own brains, and the opinion that we bring
- To make that only true we now intend,
- Will leave us never an understanding friend.
- Therefore, for goodness sake, and as you are known
- The first and happiest hearers of the town,
- Be sad, as we would make ye. Think ye see
- The very persons of our noble story
- As they were living; think you see them great,
- And follow'd with the general throng and sweat
- Of thousand friends; then, in a moment, see
- How soon this mightiness meets misery.
- And if you can be merry then, I'll say
- A man may weep upon his wedding-day.
-
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-ACT I. SCENE 1.
-
-London. The palace
-
-Enter the DUKE OF NORFOLK at one door; at the other,
-the DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM and the LORD ABERGAVENNY
-
- BUCKINGHAM. Good morrow, and well met. How have ye done
- Since last we saw in France?
- NORFOLK. I thank your Grace,
- Healthful; and ever since a fresh admirer
- Of what I saw there.
- BUCKINGHAM. An untimely ague
- Stay'd me a prisoner in my chamber when
- Those suns of glory, those two lights of men,
- Met in the vale of Andren.
- NORFOLK. 'Twixt Guynes and Arde-
- I was then present, saw them salute on horseback;
- Beheld them, when they lighted, how they clung
- In their embracement, as they grew together;
- Which had they, what four thron'd ones could have weigh'd
- Such a compounded one?
- BUCKINGHAM. All the whole time
- I was my chamber's prisoner.
- NORFOLK. Then you lost
- The view of earthly glory; men might say,
- Till this time pomp was single, but now married
- To one above itself. Each following day
- Became the next day's master, till the last
- Made former wonders its. To-day the French,
- All clinquant, all in gold, like heathen gods,
- Shone down the English; and to-morrow they
- Made Britain India: every man that stood
- Show'd like a mine. Their dwarfish pages were
- As cherubins, an gilt; the madams too,
- Not us'd to toil, did almost sweat to bear
- The pride upon them, that their very labour
- Was to them as a painting. Now this masque
- Was cried incomparable; and th' ensuing night
- Made it a fool and beggar. The two kings,
- Equal in lustre, were now best, now worst,
- As presence did present them: him in eye
- still him in praise; and being present both,
- 'Twas said they saw but one, and no discerner
- Durst wag his tongue in censure. When these suns-
- For so they phrase 'em-by their heralds challeng'd
- The noble spirits to arms, they did perform
- Beyond thought's compass, that former fabulous story,
- Being now seen possible enough, got credit,
- That Bevis was believ'd.
- BUCKINGHAM. O, you go far!
- NORFOLK. As I belong to worship, and affect
- In honour honesty, the tract of ev'rything
- Would by a good discourser lose some life
- Which action's self was tongue to. All was royal:
- To the disposing of it nought rebell'd;
- Order gave each thing view. The office did
- Distinctly his full function.
- BUCKINGHAM. Who did guide-
- I mean, who set the body and the limbs
- Of this great sport together, as you guess?
- NORFOLK. One, certes, that promises no element
- In such a business.
- BUCKINGHAM. I pray you, who, my lord?
- NORFOLK. All this was ord'red by the good discretion
- Of the right reverend Cardinal of York.
- BUCKINGHAM. The devil speed him! No man's pie is freed
- From his ambitious finger. What had he
- To do in these fierce vanities? I wonder
- That such a keech can with his very bulk
- Take up the rays o' th' beneficial sun,
- And keep it from the earth.
- NORFOLK. Surely, sir,
- There's in him stuff that puts him to these ends;
- For, being not propp'd by ancestry, whose grace
- Chalks successors their way, nor call'd upon
- For high feats done to th' crown, neither allied
- To eminent assistants, but spider-like,
- Out of his self-drawing web, 'a gives us note
- The force of his own merit makes his way-
- A gift that heaven gives for him, which buys
- A place next to the King.
- ABERGAVENNY. I cannot tell
- What heaven hath given him-let some graver eye
- Pierce into that; but I can see his pride
- Peep through each part of him. Whence has he that?
- If not from hell, the devil is a niggard
- Or has given all before, and he begins
- A new hell in himself.
- BUCKINGHAM. Why the devil,
- Upon this French going out, took he upon him-
- Without the privity o' th' King-t' appoint
- Who should attend on him? He makes up the file
- Of all the gentry; for the most part such
- To whom as great a charge as little honour
- He meant to lay upon; and his own letter,
- The honourable board of council out,
- Must fetch him in he papers.
- ABERGAVENNY. I do know
- Kinsmen of mine, three at the least, that have
- By this so sicken'd their estates that never
- They shall abound as formerly.
- BUCKINGHAM. O, many
- Have broke their backs with laying manors on 'em
- For this great journey. What did this vanity
- But minister communication of
- A most poor issue?
- NORFOLK. Grievingly I think
- The peace between the French and us not values
- The cost that did conclude it.
- BUCKINGHAM. Every man,
- After the hideous storm that follow'd, was
- A thing inspir'd, and, not consulting, broke
- Into a general prophecy-that this tempest,
- Dashing the garment of this peace, aboded
- The sudden breach on't.
- NORFOLK. Which is budded out;
- For France hath flaw'd the league, and hath attach'd
- Our merchants' goods at Bordeaux.
- ABERGAVENNY. Is it therefore
- Th' ambassador is silenc'd?
- NORFOLK. Marry, is't.
- ABERGAVENNY. A proper tide of a peace, and purchas'd
- At a superfluous rate!
- BUCKINGHAM. Why, all this business
- Our reverend Cardinal carried.
- NORFOLK. Like it your Grace,
- The state takes notice of the private difference
- Betwixt you and the Cardinal. I advise you-
- And take it from a heart that wishes towards you
- Honour and plenteous safety-that you read
- The Cardinal's malice and his potency
- Together; to consider further, that
- What his high hatred would effect wants not
- A minister in his power. You know his nature,
- That he's revengeful; and I know his sword
- Hath a sharp edge-it's long and't may be said
- It reaches far, and where 'twill not extend,
- Thither he darts it. Bosom up my counsel
- You'll find it wholesome. Lo, where comes that rock
- That I advise your shunning.
-
- Enter CARDINAL WOLSEY, the purse borne before
- him, certain of the guard, and two SECRETARIES
- with papers. The CARDINAL in his passage fixeth his
- eye on BUCKINGHAM, and BUCKINGHAM on him,
- both full of disdain
-
- WOLSEY. The Duke of Buckingham's surveyor? Ha!
- Where's his examination?
- SECRETARY. Here, so please you.
- WOLSEY. Is he in person ready?
- SECRETARY. Ay, please your Grace.
- WOLSEY. Well, we shall then know more, and Buckingham
- shall lessen this big look.
- Exeunt WOLSEY and his train
- BUCKINGHAM. This butcher's cur is venom-mouth'd, and I
- Have not the power to muzzle him; therefore best
- Not wake him in his slumber. A beggar's book
- Outworths a noble's blood.
- NORFOLK. What, are you chaf'd?
- Ask God for temp'rance; that's th' appliance only
- Which your disease requires.
- BUCKINGHAM. I read in's looks
- Matter against me, and his eye revil'd
- Me as his abject object. At this instant
- He bores me with some trick. He's gone to th' King;
- I'll follow, and outstare him.
- NORFOLK. Stay, my lord,
- And let your reason with your choler question
- What 'tis you go about. To climb steep hills
- Requires slow pace at first. Anger is like
- A full hot horse, who being allow'd his way,
- Self-mettle tires him. Not a man in England
- Can advise me like you; be to yourself
- As you would to your friend.
- BUCKINGHAM. I'll to the King,
- And from a mouth of honour quite cry down
- This Ipswich fellow's insolence; or proclaim
- There's difference in no persons.
- NORFOLK. Be advis'd:
- Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot
- That it do singe yourself. We may outrun
- By violent swiftness that which we run at,
- And lose by over-running. Know you not
- The fire that mounts the liquor till't run o'er
- In seeming to augment it wastes it? Be advis'd.
- I say again there is no English soul
- More stronger to direct you than yourself,
- If with the sap of reason you would quench
- Or but allay the fire of passion.
- BUCKINGHAM. Sir,
- I am thankful to you, and I'll go along
- By your prescription; but this top-proud fellow-
- Whom from the flow of gan I name not, but
- From sincere motions, by intelligence,
- And proofs as clear as founts in July when
- We see each grain of gravel-I do know
- To be corrupt and treasonous.
- NORFOLK. Say not treasonous.
- BUCKINGHAM. To th' King I'll say't, and make my vouch as strong
- As shore of rock. Attend: this holy fox,
- Or wolf, or both-for he is equal rav'nous
- As he is subtle, and as prone to mischief
- As able to perform't, his mind and place
- Infecting one another, yea, reciprocally-
- Only to show his pomp as well in France
- As here at home, suggests the King our master
- To this last costly treaty, th' interview
- That swallowed so much treasure and like a glass
- Did break i' th' wrenching.
- NORFOLK. Faith, and so it did.
- BUCKINGHAM. Pray, give me favour, sir; this cunning cardinal
- The articles o' th' combination drew
- As himself pleas'd; and they were ratified
- As he cried 'Thus let be' to as much end
- As give a crutch to th' dead. But our Count-Cardinal
- Has done this, and 'tis well; for worthy Wolsey,
- Who cannot err, he did it. Now this follows,
- Which, as I take it, is a kind of puppy
- To th' old dam treason: Charles the Emperor,
- Under pretence to see the Queen his aunt-
- For 'twas indeed his colour, but he came
- To whisper Wolsey-here makes visitation-
- His fears were that the interview betwixt
- England and France might through their amity
- Breed him some prejudice; for from this league
- Peep'd harms that menac'd him-privily
- Deals with our Cardinal; and, as I trow-
- Which I do well, for I am sure the Emperor
- Paid ere he promis'd; whereby his suit was granted
- Ere it was ask'd-but when the way was made,
- And pav'd with gold, the Emperor thus desir'd,
- That he would please to alter the King's course,
- And break the foresaid peace. Let the King know,
- As soon he shall by me, that thus the Cardinal
- Does buy and sell his honour as he pleases,
- And for his own advantage.
- NORFOLK. I am sorry
- To hear this of him, and could wish he were
- Something mistaken in't.
- BUCKINGHAM. No, not a syllable:
- I do pronounce him in that very shape
- He shall appear in proof.
-
- Enter BRANDON, a SERGEANT-AT-ARMS before him,
- and two or three of the guard
-
- BRANDON. Your office, sergeant: execute it.
- SERGEANT. Sir,
- My lord the Duke of Buckingham, and Earl
- Of Hereford, Stafford, and Northampton, I
- Arrest thee of high treason, in the name
- Of our most sovereign King.
- BUCKINGHAM. Lo you, my lord,
- The net has fall'n upon me! I shall perish
- Under device and practice.
- BRANDON. I am sorry
- To see you ta'en from liberty, to look on
- The business present; 'tis his Highness' pleasure
- You shall to th' Tower.
- BUCKINGHAM. It will help nothing
- To plead mine innocence; for that dye is on me
- Which makes my whit'st part black. The will of heav'n
- Be done in this and all things! I obey.
- O my Lord Aberga'ny, fare you well!
- BRANDON. Nay, he must bear you company.
- [To ABERGAVENNY] The King
- Is pleas'd you shall to th' Tower, till you know
- How he determines further.
- ABERGAVENNY. As the Duke said,
- The will of heaven be done, and the King's pleasure
- By me obey'd.
- BRANDON. Here is warrant from
- The King t' attach Lord Montacute and the bodies
- Of the Duke's confessor, John de la Car,
- One Gilbert Peck, his chancellor-
- BUCKINGHAM. So, so!
- These are the limbs o' th' plot; no more, I hope.
- BRANDON. A monk o' th' Chartreux.
- BUCKINGHAM. O, Nicholas Hopkins?
- BRANDON. He.
- BUCKINGHAM. My surveyor is false. The o'er-great Cardinal
- Hath show'd him gold; my life is spann'd already.
- I am the shadow of poor Buckingham,
- Whose figure even this instant cloud puts on
- By dark'ning my clear sun. My lord, farewell.
- Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-ACT I. SCENE 2.
-
-London. The Council Chamber
-
-Cornets. Enter KING HENRY, leaning on the CARDINAL'S shoulder, the NOBLES,
-and SIR THOMAS LOVELL, with others. The CARDINAL places himself
-under the KING'S feet on his right side
-
- KING. My life itself, and the best heart of it,
- Thanks you for this great care; I stood i' th' level
- Of a full-charg'd confederacy, and give thanks
- To you that chok'd it. Let be call'd before us
- That gentleman of Buckingham's. In person
- I'll hear his confessions justify;
- And point by point the treasons of his master
- He shall again relate.
-
- A noise within, crying 'Room for the Queen!'
- Enter the QUEEN, usher'd by the DUKES OF NORFOLK
- and SUFFOLK; she kneels. The KING riseth
- from his state, takes her up, kisses and placeth her
- by him
-
- QUEEN KATHARINE. Nay, we must longer kneel: I am suitor.
- KING. Arise, and take place by us. Half your suit
- Never name to us: you have half our power.
- The other moiety ere you ask is given;
- Repeat your will, and take it.
- QUEEN KATHARINE. Thank your Majesty.
- That you would love yourself, and in that love
- Not unconsidered leave your honour nor
- The dignity of your office, is the point
- Of my petition.
- KING. Lady mine, proceed.
- QUEEN KATHARINE. I am solicited, not by a few,
- And those of true condition, that your subjects
- Are in great grievance: there have been commissions
- Sent down among 'em which hath flaw'd the heart
- Of all their loyalties; wherein, although,
- My good Lord Cardinal, they vent reproaches
- Most bitterly on you as putter-on
- Of these exactions, yet the King our master-
- Whose honour Heaven shield from soil!-even he escapes not
- Language unmannerly; yea, such which breaks
- The sides of loyalty, and almost appears
- In loud rebellion.
- NORFOLK. Not almost appears-
- It doth appear; for, upon these taxations,
- The clothiers all, not able to maintain
- The many to them 'longing, have put of
- The spinsters, carders, fullers, weavers, who
- Unfit for other life, compell'd by hunger
- And lack of other means, in desperate manner
- Daring th' event to th' teeth, are all in uproar,
- And danger serves among them.
- KING. Taxation!
- Wherein? and what taxation? My Lord Cardinal,
- You that are blam'd for it alike with us,
- Know you of this taxation?
- WOLSEY. Please you, sir,
- I know but of a single part in aught
- Pertains to th' state, and front but in that file
- Where others tell steps with me.
- QUEEN KATHARINE. No, my lord!
- You know no more than others! But you frame
- Things that are known alike, which are not wholesome
- To those which would not know them, and yet must
- Perforce be their acquaintance. These exactions,
- Whereof my sovereign would have note, they are
- Most pestilent to th' hearing; and to bear 'em
- The back is sacrifice to th' load. They say
- They are devis'd by you, or else you suffer
- Too hard an exclamation.
- KING. Still exaction!
- The nature of it? In what kind, let's know,
- Is this exaction?
- QUEEN KATHARINE. I am much too venturous
- In tempting of your patience, but am bold'ned
- Under your promis'd pardon. The subjects' grief
- Comes through commissions, which compels from each
- The sixth part of his substance, to be levied
- Without delay; and the pretence for this
- Is nam'd your wars in France. This makes bold mouths;
- Tongues spit their duties out, and cold hearts freeze
- Allegiance in them; their curses now
- Live where their prayers did; and it's come to pass
- This tractable obedience is a slave
- To each incensed will. I would your Highness
- Would give it quick consideration, for
- There is no primer business.
- KING. By my life,
- This is against our pleasure.
- WOLSEY. And for me,
- I have no further gone in this than by
- A single voice; and that not pass'd me but
- By learned approbation of the judges. If I am
- Traduc'd by ignorant tongues, which neither know
- My faculties nor person, yet will be
- The chronicles of my doing, let me say
- 'Tis but the fate of place, and the rough brake
- That virtue must go through. We must not stint
- Our necessary actions in the fear
- To cope malicious censurers, which ever
- As rav'nous fishes do a vessel follow
- That is new-trimm'd, but benefit no further
- Than vainly longing. What we oft do best,
- By sick interpreters, once weak ones, is
- Not ours, or not allow'd; what worst, as oft
- Hitting a grosser quality, is cried up
- For our best act. If we shall stand still,
- In fear our motion will be mock'd or carp'd at,
- We should take root here where we sit, or sit
- State-statues only.
- KING. Things done well
- And with a care exempt themselves from fear:
- Things done without example, in their issue
- Are to be fear'd. Have you a precedent
- Of this commission? I believe, not any.
- We must not rend our subjects from our laws,
- And stick them in our will. Sixth part of each?
- A trembling contribution! Why, we take
- From every tree lop, bark, and part o' th' timber;
- And though we leave it with a root, thus hack'd,
- The air will drink the sap. To every county
- Where this is question'd send our letters with
- Free pardon to each man that has denied
- The force of this commission. Pray, look tot;
- I put it to your care.
- WOLSEY. [Aside to the SECRETARY] A word with you.
- Let there be letters writ to every shire
- Of the King's grace and pardon. The grieved commons
- Hardly conceive of me-let it be nois'd
- That through our intercession this revokement
- And pardon comes. I shall anon advise you
- Further in the proceeding. Exit SECRETARY
-
- Enter SURVEYOR
-
- QUEEN KATHARINE. I am sorry that the Duke of Buckingham
- Is run in your displeasure.
- KING. It grieves many.
- The gentleman is learn'd and a most rare speaker;
- To nature none more bound; his training such
- That he may furnish and instruct great teachers
- And never seek for aid out of himself. Yet see,
- When these so noble benefits shall prove
- Not well dispos'd, the mind growing once corrupt,
- They turn to vicious forms, ten times more ugly
- Than ever they were fair. This man so complete,
- Who was enroll'd 'mongst wonders, and when we,
- Almost with ravish'd list'ning, could not find
- His hour of speech a minute-he, my lady,
- Hath into monstrous habits put the graces
- That once were his, and is become as black
- As if besmear'd in hell. Sit by us; you shall hear-
- This was his gentleman in trust-of him
- Things to strike honour sad. Bid him recount
- The fore-recited practices, whereof
- We cannot feel too little, hear too much.
- WOLSEY. Stand forth, and with bold spirit relate what you,
- Most like a careful subject, have collected
- Out of the Duke of Buckingham.
- KING. Speak freely.
- SURVEYOR. First, it was usual with him-every day
- It would infect his speech-that if the King
- Should without issue die, he'll carry it so
- To make the sceptre his. These very words
- I've heard him utter to his son-in-law,
- Lord Aberga'ny, to whom by oath he menac'd
- Revenge upon the Cardinal.
- WOLSEY. Please your Highness, note
- This dangerous conception in this point:
- Not friended by his wish, to your high person
- His will is most malignant, and it stretches
- Beyond you to your friends.
- QUEEN KATHARINE. My learn'd Lord Cardinal,
- Deliver all with charity.
- KING. Speak on.
- How grounded he his title to the crown
- Upon our fail? To this point hast thou heard him
- At any time speak aught?
- SURVEYOR. He was brought to this
- By a vain prophecy of Nicholas Henton.
- KING. What was that Henton?
- SURVEYOR. Sir, a Chartreux friar,
- His confessor, who fed him every minute
- With words of sovereignty.
- KING. How know'st thou this?
- SURVEYOR. Not long before your Highness sped to France,
- The Duke being at the Rose, within the parish
- Saint Lawrence Poultney, did of me demand
- What was the speech among the Londoners
- Concerning the French journey. I replied
- Men fear'd the French would prove perfidious,
- To the King's danger. Presently the Duke
- Said 'twas the fear indeed and that he doubted
- 'Twould prove the verity of certain words
- Spoke by a holy monk 'that oft' says he
- 'Hath sent to me, wishing me to permit
- John de la Car, my chaplain, a choice hour
- To hear from him a matter of some moment;
- Whom after under the confession's seal
- He solemnly had sworn that what he spoke
- My chaplain to no creature living but
- To me should utter, with demure confidence
- This pausingly ensu'd: "Neither the King nor's heirs,
- Tell you the Duke, shall prosper; bid him strive
- To gain the love o' th' commonalty; the Duke
- Shall govern England."'
- QUEEN KATHARINE. If I know you well,
- You were the Duke's surveyor, and lost your office
- On the complaint o' th' tenants. Take good heed
- You charge not in your spleen a noble person
- And spoil your nobler soul. I say, take heed;
- Yes, heartily beseech you.
- KING. Let him on.
- Go forward.
- SURVEYOR. On my soul, I'll speak but truth.
- I told my lord the Duke, by th' devil's illusions
- The monk might be deceiv'd, and that 'twas dangerous
- for him
- To ruminate on this so far, until
- It forg'd him some design, which, being believ'd,
- It was much like to do. He answer'd 'Tush,
- It can do me no damage'; adding further
- That, had the King in his last sickness fail'd,
- The Cardinal's and Sir Thomas Lovell's heads
- Should have gone off.
- KING. Ha! what, so rank? Ah ha!
- There's mischief in this man. Canst thou say further?
- SURVEYOR. I can, my liege.
- KING. Proceed.
- SURVEYOR. Being at Greenwich,
- After your Highness had reprov'd the Duke
- About Sir William Bulmer-
- KING. I remember
- Of such a time: being my sworn servant,
- The Duke retain'd him his. But on: what hence?
- SURVEYOR. 'If' quoth he 'I for this had been committed-
- As to the Tower I thought-I would have play'd
- The part my father meant to act upon
- Th' usurper Richard; who, being at Salisbury,
- Made suit to come in's presence, which if granted,
- As he made semblance of his duty, would
- Have put his knife into him.'
- KING. A giant traitor!
- WOLSEY. Now, madam, may his Highness live in freedom,
- And this man out of prison?
- QUEEN KATHARINE. God mend all!
- KING. There's something more would out of thee: what say'st?
- SURVEYOR. After 'the Duke his father' with the 'knife,'
- He stretch'd him, and, with one hand on his dagger,
- Another spread on's breast, mounting his eyes,
- He did discharge a horrible oath, whose tenour
- Was, were he evil us'd, he would outgo
- His father by as much as a performance
- Does an irresolute purpose.
- KING. There's his period,
- To sheath his knife in us. He is attach'd;
- Call him to present trial. If he may
- Find mercy in the law, 'tis his; if none,
- Let him not seek't of us. By day and night!
- He's traitor to th' height. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-ACT I. SCENE 3.
-
-London. The palace
-
-Enter the LORD CHAMBERLAIN and LORD SANDYS
-
- CHAMBERLAIN. Is't possible the spells of France should juggle
- Men into such strange mysteries?
- SANDYS. New customs,
- Though they be never so ridiculous,
- Nay, let 'em be unmanly, yet are follow'd.
- CHAMBERLAIN. As far as I see, all the good our English
- Have got by the late voyage is but merely
- A fit or two o' th' face; but they are shrewd ones;
- For when they hold 'em, you would swear directly
- Their very noses had been counsellors
- To Pepin or Clotharius, they keep state so.
- SANDYS. They have all new legs, and lame ones. One would take it,
- That never saw 'em pace before, the spavin
- Or springhalt reign'd among 'em.
- CHAMBERLAIN. Death! my lord,
- Their clothes are after such a pagan cut to't,
- That sure th' have worn out Christendom.
-
- Enter SIR THOMAS LOVELL
-
- How now?
- What news, Sir Thomas Lovell?
- LOVELL. Faith, my lord,
- I hear of none but the new proclamation
- That's clapp'd upon the court gate.
- CHAMBERLAIN. What is't for?
- LOVELL. The reformation of our travell'd gallants,
- That fill the court with quarrels, talk, and tailors.
- CHAMBERLAIN. I am glad 'tis there. Now I would pray our monsieurs
- To think an English courtier may be wise,
- And never see the Louvre.
- LOVELL. They must either,
- For so run the conditions, leave those remnants
- Of fool and feather that they got in France,
- With all their honourable points of ignorance
- Pertaining thereunto-as fights and fireworks;
- Abusing better men than they can be,
- Out of a foreign wisdom-renouncing clean
- The faith they have in tennis, and tall stockings,
- Short blist'red breeches, and those types of travel
- And understand again like honest men,
- Or pack to their old playfellows. There, I take it,
- They may, cum privilegio, wear away
- The lag end of their lewdness and be laugh'd at.
- SANDYS. 'Tis time to give 'em physic, their diseases
- Are grown so catching.
- CHAMBERLAIN. What a loss our ladies
- Will have of these trim vanities!
- LOVELL. Ay, marry,
- There will be woe indeed, lords: the sly whoresons
- Have got a speeding trick to lay down ladies.
- A French song and a fiddle has no fellow.
- SANDYS. The devil fiddle 'em! I am glad they are going,
- For sure there's no converting 'em. Now
- An honest country lord, as I am, beaten
- A long time out of play, may bring his plainsong
- And have an hour of hearing; and, by'r Lady,
- Held current music too.
- CHAMBERLAIN. Well said, Lord Sandys;
- Your colt's tooth is not cast yet.
- SANDYS. No, my lord,
- Nor shall not while I have a stamp.
- CHAMBERLAIN. Sir Thomas,
- Whither were you a-going?
- LOVELL. To the Cardinal's;
- Your lordship is a guest too.
- CHAMBERLAIN. O, 'tis true;
- This night he makes a supper, and a great one,
- To many lords and ladies; there will be
- The beauty of this kingdom, I'll assure you.
- LOVELL. That churchman bears a bounteous mind indeed,
- A hand as fruitful as the land that feeds us;
- His dews fall everywhere.
- CHAMBERLAIN. No doubt he's noble;
- He had a black mouth that said other of him.
- SANDYS. He may, my lord; has wherewithal. In him
- Sparing would show a worse sin than ill doctrine:
- Men of his way should be most liberal,
- They are set here for examples.
- CHAMBERLAIN. True, they are so;
- But few now give so great ones. My barge stays;
- Your lordship shall along. Come, good Sir Thomas,
- We shall be late else; which I would not be,
- For I was spoke to, with Sir Henry Guildford,
- This night to be comptrollers.
- SANDYS. I am your lordship's. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-ACT I. SCENE 4.
-
-London. The Presence Chamber in York Place
-
-Hautboys. A small table under a state for the Cardinal,
-a longer table for the guests. Then enter ANNE BULLEN,
-and divers other LADIES and GENTLEMEN, as guests, at one door;
-at another door enter SIR HENRY GUILDFORD
-
- GUILDFORD. Ladies, a general welcome from his Grace
- Salutes ye all; this night he dedicates
- To fair content and you. None here, he hopes,
- In all this noble bevy, has brought with her
- One care abroad; he would have all as merry
- As, first, good company, good wine, good welcome,
- Can make good people.
-
- Enter LORD CHAMBERLAIN, LORD SANDYS, and SIR
- THOMAS LOVELL
-
- O, my lord, y'are tardy,
- The very thought of this fair company
- Clapp'd wings to me.
- CHAMBERLAIN. You are young, Sir Harry Guildford.
- SANDYS. Sir Thomas Lovell, had the Cardinal
- But half my lay thoughts in him, some of these
- Should find a running banquet ere they rested
- I think would better please 'em. By my life,
- They are a sweet society of fair ones.
- LOVELL. O that your lordship were but now confessor
- To one or two of these!
- SANDYS. I would I were;
- They should find easy penance.
- LOVELL. Faith, how easy?
- SANDYS. As easy as a down bed would afford it.
- CHAMBERLAIN. Sweet ladies, will it please you sit? Sir Harry,
- Place you that side; I'll take the charge of this.
- His Grace is ent'ring. Nay, you must not freeze:
- Two women plac'd together makes cold weather.
- My Lord Sandys, you are one will keep 'em waking:
- Pray sit between these ladies.
- SANDYS. By my faith,
- And thank your lordship. By your leave, sweet ladies.
- [Seats himself between ANNE BULLEN and another lady]
- If I chance to talk a little wild, forgive me;
- I had it from my father.
- ANNE. Was he mad, sir?
- SANDYS. O, very mad, exceeding mad, in love too.
- But he would bite none; just as I do now,
- He would kiss you twenty with a breath. [Kisses her]
- CHAMBERLAIN. Well said, my lord.
- So, now y'are fairly seated. Gentlemen,
- The penance lies on you if these fair ladies
- Pass away frowning.
- SANDYS. For my little cure,
- Let me alone.
-
- Hautboys. Enter CARDINAL WOLSEY, attended; and
- takes his state
-
- WOLSEY. Y'are welcome, my fair guests. That noble lady
- Or gentleman that is not freely merry
- Is not my friend. This, to confirm my welcome-
- And to you all, good health! [Drinks]
- SANDYS. Your Grace is noble.
- Let me have such a bowl may hold my thanks
- And save me so much talking.
- WOLSEY. My Lord Sandys,
- I am beholding to you. Cheer your neighbours.
- Ladies, you are not merry. Gentlemen,
- Whose fault is this?
- SANDYS. The red wine first must rise
- In their fair cheeks, my lord; then we shall have 'em
- Talk us to silence.
- ANNE. You are a merry gamester,
- My Lord Sandys.
- SANDYS. Yes, if I make my play.
- Here's to your ladyship; and pledge it, madam,
- For 'tis to such a thing-
- ANNE. You cannot show me.
- SANDYS. I told your Grace they would talk anon.
- [Drum and trumpet. Chambers discharg'd]
- WOLSEY. What's that?
- CHAMBERLAIN. Look out there, some of ye. Exit a SERVANT
- WOLSEY. What warlike voice,
- And to what end, is this? Nay, ladies, fear not:
- By all the laws of war y'are privileg'd.
-
- Re-enter SERVANT
-
- CHAMBERLAIN. How now! what is't?
- SERVANT. A noble troop of strangers-
- For so they seem. Th' have left their barge and landed,
- And hither make, as great ambassadors
- From foreign princes.
- WOLSEY. Good Lord Chamberlain,
- Go, give 'em welcome; you can speak the French tongue;
- And pray receive 'em nobly and conduct 'em
- Into our presence, where this heaven of beauty
- Shall shine at full upon them. Some attend him.
- Exit CHAMBERLAIN attended. All rise, and tables remov'd
- You have now a broken banquet, but we'll mend it.
- A good digestion to you all; and once more
- I show'r a welcome on ye; welcome all.
-
- Hautboys. Enter the KING, and others, as maskers,
- habited like shepherds, usher'd by the LORD CHAMBERLAIN.
- They pass directly before the CARDINAL,
- and gracefully salute him
-
- A noble company! What are their pleasures?
- CHAMBERLAIN. Because they speak no English, thus they pray'd
- To tell your Grace, that, having heard by fame
- Of this so noble and so fair assembly
- This night to meet here, they could do no less,
- Out of the great respect they bear to beauty,
- But leave their flocks and, under your fair conduct,
- Crave leave to view these ladies and entreat
- An hour of revels with 'em.
- WOLSEY. Say, Lord Chamberlain,
- They have done my poor house grace; for which I pay 'em
- A thousand thanks, and pray 'em take their pleasures.
- [They choose ladies. The KING chooses ANNE BULLEN]
- KING. The fairest hand I ever touch'd! O beauty,
- Till now I never knew thee! [Music. Dance]
- WOLSEY. My lord!
- CHAMBERLAIN. Your Grace?
- WOLSEY. Pray tell 'em thus much from me:
- There should be one amongst 'em, by his person,
- More worthy this place than myself; to whom,
- If I but knew him, with my love and duty
- I would surrender it.
- CHAMBERLAIN. I will, my lord.
- [He whispers to the maskers]
- WOLSEY. What say they?
- CHAMBERLAIN. Such a one, they all confess,
- There is indeed; which they would have your Grace
- Find out, and he will take it.
- WOLSEY. Let me see, then. [Comes from his state]
- By all your good leaves, gentlemen, here I'll make
- My royal choice.
- KING. [Unmasking] Ye have found him, Cardinal.
- You hold a fair assembly; you do well, lord.
- You are a churchman, or, I'll tell you, Cardinal,
- I should judge now unhappily.
- WOLSEY. I am glad
- Your Grace is grown so pleasant.
- KING. My Lord Chamberlain,
- Prithee come hither: what fair lady's that?
- CHAMBERLAIN. An't please your Grace, Sir Thomas Bullen's
- daughter-
- The Viscount Rochford-one of her Highness' women.
- KING. By heaven, she is a dainty one. Sweet heart,
- I were unmannerly to take you out
- And not to kiss you. A health, gentlemen!
- Let it go round.
- WOLSEY. Sir Thomas Lovell, is the banquet ready
- I' th' privy chamber?
- LOVELL. Yes, my lord.
- WOLSEY. Your Grace,
- I fear, with dancing is a little heated.
- KING. I fear, too much.
- WOLSEY. There's fresher air, my lord,
- In the next chamber.
- KING. Lead in your ladies, ev'ry one. Sweet partner,
- I must not yet forsake you. Let's be merry:
- Good my Lord Cardinal, I have half a dozen healths
- To drink to these fair ladies, and a measure
- To lead 'em once again; and then let's dream
- Who's best in favour. Let the music knock it.
- Exeunt, with trumpets
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT II. SCENE 1.
-
-Westminster. A street
-
-Enter two GENTLEMEN, at several doors
-
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. Whither away so fast?
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. O, God save ye!
- Ev'n to the Hall, to hear what shall become
- Of the great Duke of Buckingham.
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. I'll save you
- That labour, sir. All's now done but the ceremony
- Of bringing back the prisoner.
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. Were you there?
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. Yes, indeed, was I.
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. Pray, speak what has happen'd.
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. You may guess quickly what.
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. Is he found guilty?
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. Yes, truly is he, and condemn'd upon't.
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. I am sorry for't.
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. So are a number more.
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. But, pray, how pass'd it?
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. I'll tell you in a little. The great Duke.
- Came to the bar; where to his accusations
- He pleaded still not guilty, and alleged
- Many sharp reasons to defeat the law.
- The King's attorney, on the contrary,
- Urg'd on the examinations, proofs, confessions,
- Of divers witnesses; which the Duke desir'd
- To have brought, viva voce, to his face;
- At which appear'd against him his surveyor,
- Sir Gilbert Peck his chancellor, and John Car,
- Confessor to him, with that devil-monk,
- Hopkins, that made this mischief.
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. That was he
- That fed him with his prophecies?
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. The same.
- All these accus'd him strongly, which he fain
- Would have flung from him; but indeed he could not;
- And so his peers, upon this evidence,
- Have found him guilty of high treason. Much
- He spoke, and learnedly, for life; but all
- Was either pitied in him or forgotten.
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. After all this, how did he bear him-self
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. When he was brought again to th' bar to hear
- His knell rung out, his judgment, he was stirr'd
- With such an agony he sweat extremely,
- And something spoke in choler, ill and hasty;
- But he fell to himself again, and sweetly
- In all the rest show'd a most noble patience.
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. I do not think he fears death.
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. Sure, he does not;
- He never was so womanish; the cause
- He may a little grieve at.
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. Certainly
- The Cardinal is the end of this.
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. 'Tis likely,
- By all conjectures: first, Kildare's attainder,
- Then deputy of Ireland, who remov'd,
- Earl Surrey was sent thither, and in haste too,
- Lest he should help his father.
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. That trick of state
- Was a deep envious one.
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. At his return
- No doubt he will requite it. This is noted,
- And generally: whoever the King favours
- The Cardinal instantly will find employment,
- And far enough from court too.
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. All the commons
- Hate him perniciously, and, o' my conscience,
- Wish him ten fathom deep: this Duke as much
- They love and dote on; call him bounteous Buckingham,
- The mirror of all courtesy-
-
- Enter BUCKINGHAM from his arraignment, tip-staves
- before him; the axe with the edge towards him; halberds
- on each side; accompanied with SIR THOMAS
- LOVELL, SIR NICHOLAS VAUX, SIR WILLIAM SANDYS,
- and common people, etc.
-
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. Stay there, sir,
- And see the noble ruin'd man you speak of.
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. Let's stand close, and behold him.
- BUCKINGHAM. All good people,
- You that thus far have come to pity me,
- Hear what I say, and then go home and lose me.
- I have this day receiv'd a traitor's judgment,
- And by that name must die; yet, heaven bear witness,
- And if I have a conscience, let it sink me
- Even as the axe falls, if I be not faithful!
- The law I bear no malice for my death:
- 'T has done, upon the premises, but justice.
- But those that sought it I could wish more Christians.
- Be what they will, I heartily forgive 'em;
- Yet let 'em look they glory not in mischief
- Nor build their evils on the graves of great men,
- For then my guiltless blood must cry against 'em.
- For further life in this world I ne'er hope
- Nor will I sue, although the King have mercies
- More than I dare make faults. You few that lov'd me
- And dare be bold to weep for Buckingham,
- His noble friends and fellows, whom to leave
- Is only bitter to him, only dying,
- Go with me like good angels to my end;
- And as the long divorce of steel falls on me
- Make of your prayers one sweet sacrifice,
- And lift my soul to heaven. Lead on, a God's name.
- LOVELL. I do beseech your Grace, for charity,
- If ever any malice in your heart
- Were hid against me, now to forgive me frankly.
- BUCKINGHAM. Sir Thomas Lovell, I as free forgive you
- As I would be forgiven. I forgive all.
- There cannot be those numberless offences
- 'Gainst me that I cannot take peace with. No black envy
- Shall mark my grave. Commend me to his Grace;
- And if he speak of Buckingham, pray tell him
- You met him half in heaven. My vows and prayers
- Yet are the King's, and, till my soul forsake,
- Shall cry for blessings on him. May he live
- Longer than I have time to tell his years;
- Ever belov'd and loving may his rule be;
- And when old time Shall lead him to his end,
- Goodness and he fill up one monument!
- LOVELL. To th' water side I must conduct your Grace;
- Then give my charge up to Sir Nicholas Vaux,
- Who undertakes you to your end.
- VAUX. Prepare there;
- The Duke is coming; see the barge be ready;
- And fit it with such furniture as suits
- The greatness of his person.
- BUCKINGHAM. Nay, Sir Nicholas,
- Let it alone; my state now will but mock me.
- When I came hither I was Lord High Constable
- And Duke of Buckingham; now, poor Edward Bohun.
- Yet I am richer than my base accusers
- That never knew what truth meant; I now seal it;
- And with that blood will make 'em one day groan fort.
- My noble father, Henry of Buckingham,
- Who first rais'd head against usurping Richard,
- Flying for succour to his servant Banister,
- Being distress'd, was by that wretch betray'd
- And without trial fell; God's peace be with him!
- Henry the Seventh succeeding, truly pitying
- My father's loss, like a most royal prince,
- Restor'd me to my honours, and out of ruins
- Made my name once more noble. Now his son,
- Henry the Eighth, life, honour, name, and all
- That made me happy, at one stroke has taken
- For ever from the world. I had my trial,
- And must needs say a noble one; which makes me
- A little happier than my wretched father;
- Yet thus far we are one in fortunes: both
- Fell by our servants, by those men we lov'd most-
- A most unnatural and faithless service.
- Heaven has an end in all. Yet, you that hear me,
- This from a dying man receive as certain:
- Where you are liberal of your loves and counsels,
- Be sure you be not loose; for those you make friends
- And give your hearts to, when they once perceive
- The least rub in your fortunes, fall away
- Like water from ye, never found again
- But where they mean to sink ye. All good people,
- Pray for me! I must now forsake ye; the last hour
- Of my long weary life is come upon me.
- Farewell;
- And when you would say something that is sad,
- Speak how I fell. I have done; and God forgive me!
- Exeunt BUCKINGHAM and train
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. O, this is full of pity! Sir, it calls,
- I fear, too many curses on their heads
- That were the authors.
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. If the Duke be guiltless,
- 'Tis full of woe; yet I can give you inkling
- Of an ensuing evil, if it fall,
- Greater than this.
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. Good angels keep it from us!
- What may it be? You do not doubt my faith, sir?
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. This secret is so weighty, 'twill require
- A strong faith to conceal it.
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. Let me have it;
- I do not talk much.
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. I am confident.
- You shall, sir. Did you not of late days hear
- A buzzing of a separation
- Between the King and Katharine?
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. Yes, but it held not;
- For when the King once heard it, out of anger
- He sent command to the Lord Mayor straight
- To stop the rumour and allay those tongues
- That durst disperse it.
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. But that slander, sir,
- Is found a truth now; for it grows again
- Fresher than e'er it was, and held for certain
- The King will venture at it. Either the Cardinal
- Or some about him near have, out of malice
- To the good Queen, possess'd him with a scruple
- That will undo her. To confirm this too,
- Cardinal Campeius is arriv'd and lately;
- As all think, for this business.
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. 'Tis the Cardinal;
- And merely to revenge him on the Emperor
- For not bestowing on him at his asking
- The archbishopric of Toledo, this is purpos'd.
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. I think you have hit the mark; but is't
- not cruel
- That she should feel the smart of this? The Cardinal
- Will have his will, and she must fall.
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. 'Tis woeful.
- We are too open here to argue this;
- Let's think in private more. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-ACT II. SCENE 2.
-
-London. The palace
-
-Enter the LORD CHAMBERLAIN reading this letter
-
- CHAMBERLAIN. 'My lord,
- 'The horses your lordship sent for, with all the care
- had, I saw well chosen, ridden, and furnish'd. They were
- young and handsome, and of the best breed in the north.
- When they were ready to set out for London, a man of
- my Lord Cardinal's, by commission, and main power, took
- 'em from me, with this reason: his master would be serv'd
- before a subject, if not before the King; which stopp'd
- our mouths, sir.'
-
- I fear he will indeed. Well, let him have them.
- He will have all, I think.
-
- Enter to the LORD CHAMBERLAIN the DUKES OF NORFOLK and SUFFOLK
-
- NORFOLK. Well met, my Lord Chamberlain.
- CHAMBERLAIN. Good day to both your Graces.
- SUFFOLK. How is the King employ'd?
- CHAMBERLAIN. I left him private,
- Full of sad thoughts and troubles.
- NORFOLK. What's the cause?
- CHAMBERLAIN. It seems the marriage with his brother's wife
- Has crept too near his conscience.
- SUFFOLK. No, his conscience
- Has crept too near another lady.
- NORFOLK. 'Tis so;
- This is the Cardinal's doing; the King-Cardinal,
- That blind priest, like the eldest son of fortune,
- Turns what he list. The King will know him one day.
- SUFFOLK. Pray God he do! He'll never know himself else.
- NORFOLK. How holily he works in all his business!
- And with what zeal! For, now he has crack'd the league
- Between us and the Emperor, the Queen's great nephew,
- He dives into the King's soul and there scatters
- Dangers, doubts, wringing of the conscience,
- Fears, and despairs-and all these for his marriage;
- And out of all these to restore the King,
- He counsels a divorce, a loss of her
- That like a jewel has hung twenty years
- About his neck, yet never lost her lustre;
- Of her that loves him with that excellence
- That angels love good men with; even of her
- That, when the greatest stroke of fortune falls,
- Will bless the King-and is not this course pious?
- CHAMBERLAIN. Heaven keep me from such counsel! 'Tis most true
- These news are everywhere; every tongue speaks 'em,
- And every true heart weeps for 't. All that dare
- Look into these affairs see this main end-
- The French King's sister. Heaven will one day open
- The King's eyes, that so long have slept upon
- This bold bad man.
- SUFFOLK. And free us from his slavery.
- NORFOLK. We had need pray, and heartily, for our deliverance;
- Or this imperious man will work us an
- From princes into pages. All men's honours
- Lie like one lump before him, to be fashion'd
- Into what pitch he please.
- SUFFOLK. For me, my lords,
- I love him not, nor fear him-there's my creed;
- As I am made without him, so I'll stand,
- If the King please; his curses and his blessings
- Touch me alike; th' are breath I not believe in.
- I knew him, and I know him; so I leave him
- To him that made him proud-the Pope.
- NORFOLK. Let's in;
- And with some other business put the King
- From these sad thoughts that work too much upon him.
- My lord, you'll bear us company?
- CHAMBERLAIN. Excuse me,
- The King has sent me otherwhere; besides,
- You'll find a most unfit time to disturb him.
- Health to your lordships!
- NORFOLK. Thanks, my good Lord Chamberlain.
- Exit LORD CHAMBERLAIN; and the KING draws
- the curtain and sits reading pensively
- SUFFOLK. How sad he looks; sure, he is much afflicted.
- KING. Who's there, ha?
- NORFOLK. Pray God he be not angry.
- KING HENRY. Who's there, I say? How dare you thrust yourselves
- Into my private meditations?
- Who am I, ha?
- NORFOLK. A gracious king that pardons all offences
- Malice ne'er meant. Our breach of duty this way
- Is business of estate, in which we come
- To know your royal pleasure.
- KING. Ye are too bold.
- Go to; I'll make ye know your times of business.
- Is this an hour for temporal affairs, ha?
-
- Enter WOLSEY and CAMPEIUS with a commission
-
- Who's there? My good Lord Cardinal? O my Wolsey,
- The quiet of my wounded conscience,
- Thou art a cure fit for a King. [To CAMPEIUS] You're
- welcome,
- Most learned reverend sir, into our kingdom.
- Use us and it. [To WOLSEY] My good lord, have great care
- I be not found a talker.
- WOLSEY. Sir, you cannot.
- I would your Grace would give us but an hour
- Of private conference.
- KING. [To NORFOLK and SUFFOLK] We are busy; go.
- NORFOLK. [Aside to SUFFOLK] This priest has no pride in him!
- SUFFOLK. [Aside to NORFOLK] Not to speak of!
- I would not be so sick though for his place.
- But this cannot continue.
- NORFOLK. [Aside to SUFFOLK] If it do,
- I'll venture one have-at-him.
- SUFFOLK. [Aside to NORFOLK] I another.
- Exeunt NORFOLK and SUFFOLK
- WOLSEY. Your Grace has given a precedent of wisdom
- Above all princes, in committing freely
- Your scruple to the voice of Christendom.
- Who can be angry now? What envy reach you?
- The Spaniard, tied by blood and favour to her,
- Must now confess, if they have any goodness,
- The trial just and noble. All the clerks,
- I mean the learned ones, in Christian kingdoms
- Have their free voices. Rome the nurse of judgment,
- Invited by your noble self, hath sent
- One general tongue unto us, this good man,
- This just and learned priest, Cardinal Campeius,
- Whom once more I present unto your Highness.
- KING. And once more in mine arms I bid him welcome,
- And thank the holy conclave for their loves.
- They have sent me such a man I would have wish'd for.
- CAMPEIUS. Your Grace must needs deserve an strangers' loves,
- You are so noble. To your Highness' hand
- I tender my commission; by whose virtue-
- The court of Rome commanding-you, my Lord
- Cardinal of York, are join'd with me their servant
- In the unpartial judging of this business.
- KING. Two equal men. The Queen shall be acquainted
- Forthwith for what you come. Where's Gardiner?
- WOLSEY. I know your Majesty has always lov'd her
- So dear in heart not to deny her that
- A woman of less place might ask by law-
- Scholars allow'd freely to argue for her.
- KING. Ay, and the best she shall have; and my favour
- To him that does best. God forbid else. Cardinal,
- Prithee call Gardiner to me, my new secretary;
- I find him a fit fellow. Exit WOLSEY
-
- Re-enter WOLSEY with GARDINER
-
- WOLSEY. [Aside to GARDINER] Give me your hand: much
- joy and favour to you;
- You are the King's now.
- GARDINER. [Aside to WOLSEY] But to be commanded
- For ever by your Grace, whose hand has rais'd me.
- KING. Come hither, Gardiner. [Walks and whispers]
- CAMPEIUS. My Lord of York, was not one Doctor Pace
- In this man's place before him?
- WOLSEY. Yes, he was.
- CAMPEIUS. Was he not held a learned man?
- WOLSEY. Yes, surely.
- CAMPEIUS. Believe me, there's an ill opinion spread then,
- Even of yourself, Lord Cardinal.
- WOLSEY. How! Of me?
- CAMPEIUS. They will not stick to say you envied him
- And, fearing he would rise, he was so virtuous,
- Kept him a foreign man still; which so griev'd him
- That he ran mad and died.
- WOLSEY. Heav'n's peace be with him!
- That's Christian care enough. For living murmurers
- There's places of rebuke. He was a fool,
- For he would needs be virtuous: that good fellow,
- If I command him, follows my appointment.
- I will have none so near else. Learn this, brother,
- We live not to be grip'd by meaner persons.
- KING. Deliver this with modesty to th' Queen.
- Exit GARDINER
- The most convenient place that I can think of
- For such receipt of learning is Blackfriars;
- There ye shall meet about this weighty business-
- My Wolsey, see it furnish'd. O, my lord,
- Would it not grieve an able man to leave
- So sweet a bedfellow? But, conscience, conscience!
- O, 'tis a tender place! and I must leave her. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-ACT II. SCENE 3.
-
-London. The palace
-
-Enter ANNE BULLEN and an OLD LADY
-
- ANNE. Not for that neither. Here's the pang that pinches:
- His Highness having liv'd so long with her, and she
- So good a lady that no tongue could ever
- Pronounce dishonour of her-by my life,
- She never knew harm-doing-O, now, after
- So many courses of the sun enthroned,
- Still growing in a majesty and pomp, the which
- To leave a thousand-fold more bitter than
- 'Tis sweet at first t' acquire-after this process,
- To give her the avaunt, it is a pity
- Would move a monster.
- OLD LADY. Hearts of most hard temper
- Melt and lament for her.
- ANNE. O, God's will! much better
- She ne'er had known pomp; though't be temporal,
- Yet, if that quarrel, fortune, do divorce
- It from the bearer, 'tis a sufferance panging
- As soul and body's severing.
- OLD LADY. Alas, poor lady!
- She's a stranger now again.
- ANNE. So much the more
- Must pity drop upon her. Verily,
- I swear 'tis better to be lowly born
- And range with humble livers in content
- Than to be perk'd up in a glist'ring grief
- And wear a golden sorrow.
- OLD LADY. Our content
- Is our best having.
- ANNE. By my troth and maidenhead,
- I would not be a queen.
- OLD LADY. Beshrew me, I would,
- And venture maidenhead for 't; and so would you,
- For all this spice of your hypocrisy.
- You that have so fair parts of woman on you
- Have too a woman's heart, which ever yet
- Affected eminence, wealth, sovereignty;
- Which, to say sooth, are blessings; and which gifts,
- Saving your mincing, the capacity
- Of your soft cheveril conscience would receive
- If you might please to stretch it.
- ANNE. Nay, good troth.
- OLD LADY. Yes, troth and troth. You would not be a queen!
- ANNE. No, not for all the riches under heaven.
- OLD LADY. 'Tis strange: a threepence bow'd would hire me,
- Old as I am, to queen it. But, I pray you,
- What think you of a duchess? Have you limbs
- To bear that load of title?
- ANNE. No, in truth.
- OLD LADY. Then you are weakly made. Pluck off a little;
- I would not be a young count in your way
- For more than blushing comes to. If your back
- Cannot vouchsafe this burden, 'tis too weak
- Ever to get a boy.
- ANNE. How you do talk!
- I swear again I would not be a queen
- For all the world.
- OLD LADY. In faith, for little England
- You'd venture an emballing. I myself
- Would for Carnarvonshire, although there long'd
- No more to th' crown but that. Lo, who comes here?
-
- Enter the LORD CHAMBERLAIN
-
- CHAMBERLAIN. Good morrow, ladies. What were't worth to know
- The secret of your conference?
- ANNE. My good lord,
- Not your demand; it values not your asking.
- Our mistress' sorrows we were pitying.
- CHAMBERLAIN. It was a gentle business and becoming
- The action of good women; there is hope
- All will be well.
- ANNE. Now, I pray God, amen!
- CHAMBERLAIN. You bear a gentle mind, and heav'nly blessings
- Follow such creatures. That you may, fair lady,
- Perceive I speak sincerely and high notes
- Ta'en of your many virtues, the King's Majesty
- Commends his good opinion of you to you, and
- Does purpose honour to you no less flowing
- Than Marchioness of Pembroke; to which tide
- A thousand pound a year, annual support,
- Out of his grace he adds.
- ANNE. I do not know
- What kind of my obedience I should tender;
- More than my all is nothing, nor my prayers
- Are not words duly hallowed, nor my wishes
- More worth than empty vanities; yet prayers and wishes
- Are all I can return. Beseech your lordship,
- Vouchsafe to speak my thanks and my obedience,
- As from a blushing handmaid, to his Highness;
- Whose health and royalty I pray for.
- CHAMBERLAIN. Lady,
- I shall not fail t' approve the fair conceit
- The King hath of you. [Aside] I have perus'd her well:
- Beauty and honour in her are so mingled
- That they have caught the King; and who knows yet
- But from this lady may proceed a gem
- To lighten all this isle?-I'll to the King
- And say I spoke with you.
- ANNE. My honour'd lord! Exit LORD CHAMBERLAIN
- OLD LADY. Why, this it is: see, see!
- I have been begging sixteen years in court-
- Am yet a courtier beggarly-nor could
- Come pat betwixt too early and too late
- For any suit of pounds; and you, O fate!
- A very fresh-fish here-fie, fie, fie upon
- This compell'd fortune!-have your mouth fill'd up
- Before you open it.
- ANNE. This is strange to me.
- OLD LADY. How tastes it? Is it bitter? Forty pence, no.
- There was a lady once-'tis an old story-
- That would not be a queen, that would she not,
- For all the mud in Egypt. Have you heard it?
- ANNE. Come, you are pleasant.
- OLD LADY. With your theme I could
- O'ermount the lark. The Marchioness of Pembroke!
- A thousand pounds a year for pure respect!
- No other obligation! By my life,
- That promises moe thousands: honour's train
- Is longer than his foreskirt. By this time
- I know your back will bear a duchess. Say,
- Are you not stronger than you were?
- ANNE. Good lady,
- Make yourself mirth with your particular fancy,
- And leave me out on't. Would I had no being,
- If this salute my blood a jot; it faints me
- To think what follows.
- The Queen is comfortless, and we forgetful
- In our long absence. Pray, do not deliver
- What here y' have heard to her.
- OLD LADY. What do you think me? Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-ACT II. SCENE 4.
-
-London. A hall in Blackfriars
-
-Trumpets, sennet, and cornets. Enter two VERGERS, with short silver wands;
-next them, two SCRIBES, in the habit of doctors; after them,
-the ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY alone; after him, the BISHOPS OF LINCOLN, ELY,
-ROCHESTER, and SAINT ASAPH; next them, with some small distance,
-follows a GENTLEMAN bearing the purse, with the great seal,
-and a Cardinal's hat; then two PRIESTS, bearing each silver cross;
-then a GENTLEMAN USHER bareheaded, accompanied with a SERGEANT-AT-ARMS
-bearing a silver mace; then two GENTLEMEN bearing two great silver pillars;
-after them, side by side, the two CARDINALS, WOLSEY and CAMPEIUS;
-two NOBLEMEN with the sword and mace. Then enter the KING and QUEEN
-and their trains. The KING takes place under the cloth of state;
-the two CARDINALS sit under him as judges. The QUEEN takes place
-some distance from the KING. The BISHOPS place themselves on each side
-of the court, in manner of consistory; below them the SCRIBES.
-The LORDS sit next the BISHOPS. The rest of the attendants stand
-in convenient order about the stage
-
- WOLSEY. Whilst our commission from Rome is read,
- Let silence be commanded.
- KING. What's the need?
- It hath already publicly been read,
- And on all sides th' authority allow'd;
- You may then spare that time.
- WOLSEY. Be't so; proceed.
- SCRIBE. Say 'Henry King of England, come into the court.'
- CRIER. Henry King of England, &c.
- KING. Here.
- SCRIBE. Say 'Katharine Queen of England, come into the court.'
- CRIER. Katharine Queen of England, &c.
-
- The QUEEN makes no answer, rises out of her chair,
- goes about the court, comes to the KING, and kneels
- at his feet; then speaks
-
- QUEEN KATHARINE. Sir, I desire you do me right and justice,
- And to bestow your pity on me; for
- I am a most poor woman and a stranger,
- Born out of your dominions, having here
- No judge indifferent, nor no more assurance
- Of equal friendship and proceeding. Alas, sir,
- In what have I offended you? What cause
- Hath my behaviour given to your displeasure
- That thus you should proceed to put me of
- And take your good grace from me? Heaven witness,
- I have been to you a true and humble wife,
- At all times to your will conformable,
- Ever in fear to kindle your dislike,
- Yea, subject to your countenance-glad or sorry
- As I saw it inclin'd. When was the hour
- I ever contradicted your desire
- Or made it not mine too? Or which of your friends
- Have I not strove to love, although I knew
- He were mine enemy? What friend of mine
- That had to him deriv'd your anger did
- Continue in my liking? Nay, gave notice
- He was from thence discharg'd? Sir, call to mind
- That I have been your wife in this obedience
- Upward of twenty years, and have been blest
- With many children by you. If, in the course
- And process of this time, you can report,
- And prove it too against mine honour, aught,
- My bond to wedlock or my love and duty,
- Against your sacred person, in God's name,
- Turn me away and let the foul'st contempt
- Shut door upon me, and so give me up
- To the sharp'st kind of justice. Please you, sir,
- The King, your father, was reputed for
- A prince most prudent, of an excellent
- And unmatch'd wit and judgment; Ferdinand,
- My father, King of Spain, was reckon'd one
- The wisest prince that there had reign'd by many
- A year before. It is not to be question'd
- That they had gather'd a wise council to them
- Of every realm, that did debate this business,
- Who deem'd our marriage lawful. Wherefore I humbly
- Beseech you, sir, to spare me till I may
- Be by my friends in Spain advis'd, whose counsel
- I will implore. If not, i' th' name of God,
- Your pleasure be fulfill'd!
- WOLSEY. You have here, lady,
- And of your choice, these reverend fathers-men
- Of singular integrity and learning,
- Yea, the elect o' th' land, who are assembled
- To plead your cause. It shall be therefore bootless
- That longer you desire the court, as well
- For your own quiet as to rectify
- What is unsettled in the King.
- CAMPEIUS. His Grace
- Hath spoken well and justly; therefore, madam,
- It's fit this royal session do proceed
- And that, without delay, their arguments
- Be now produc'd and heard.
- QUEEN KATHARINE. Lord Cardinal,
- To you I speak.
- WOLSEY. Your pleasure, madam?
- QUEEN KATHARINE. Sir,
- I am about to weep; but, thinking that
- We are a queen, or long have dream'd so, certain
- The daughter of a king, my drops of tears
- I'll turn to sparks of fire.
- WOLSEY. Be patient yet.
- QUEEN KATHARINE. I Will, when you are humble; nay, before
- Or God will punish me. I do believe,
- Induc'd by potent circumstances, that
- You are mine enemy, and make my challenge
- You shall not be my judge; for it is you
- Have blown this coal betwixt my lord and me-
- Which God's dew quench! Therefore I say again,
- I utterly abhor, yea, from my soul
- Refuse you for my judge, whom yet once more
- I hold my most malicious foe and think not
- At all a friend to truth.
- WOLSEY. I do profess
- You speak not like yourself, who ever yet
- Have stood to charity and display'd th' effects
- Of disposition gentle and of wisdom
- O'ertopping woman's pow'r. Madam, you do me wrong:
- I have no spleen against you, nor injustice
- For you or any; how far I have proceeded,
- Or how far further shall, is warranted
- By a commission from the Consistory,
- Yea, the whole Consistory of Rome. You charge me
- That I have blown this coal: I do deny it.
- The King is present; if it be known to him
- That I gainsay my deed, how may he wound,
- And worthily, my falsehood! Yea, as much
- As you have done my truth. If he know
- That I am free of your report, he knows
- I am not of your wrong. Therefore in him
- It lies to cure me, and the cure is to
- Remove these thoughts from you; the which before
- His Highness shall speak in, I do beseech
- You, gracious madam, to unthink your speaking
- And to say so no more.
- QUEEN KATHARINE. My lord, my lord,
- I am a simple woman, much too weak
- T' oppose your cunning. Y'are meek and humble-mouth'd;
- You sign your place and calling, in full seeming,
- With meekness and humility; but your heart
- Is cramm'd with arrogancy, spleen, and pride.
- You have, by fortune and his Highness' favours,
- Gone slightly o'er low steps, and now are mounted
- Where pow'rs are your retainers, and your words,
- Domestics to you, serve your will as't please
- Yourself pronounce their office. I must tell you
- You tender more your person's honour than
- Your high profession spiritual; that again
- I do refuse you for my judge and here,
- Before you all, appeal unto the Pope,
- To bring my whole cause 'fore his Holiness
- And to be judg'd by him.
- [She curtsies to the KING, and offers to depart]
- CAMPEIUS. The Queen is obstinate,
- Stubborn to justice, apt to accuse it, and
- Disdainful to be tried by't; 'tis not well.
- She's going away.
- KING. Call her again.
- CRIER. Katharine Queen of England, come into the court.
- GENTLEMAN USHER. Madam, you are call'd back.
- QUEEN KATHARINE. What need you note it? Pray you keep your way;
- When you are call'd, return. Now the Lord help!
- They vex me past my patience. Pray you pass on.
- I will not tarry; no, nor ever more
- Upon this business my appearance make
- In any of their courts. Exeunt QUEEN and her attendants
- KING. Go thy ways, Kate.
- That man i' th' world who shall report he has
- A better wife, let him in nought be trusted
- For speaking false in that. Thou art, alone-
- If thy rare qualities, sweet gentleness,
- Thy meekness saint-like, wife-like government,
- Obeying in commanding, and thy parts
- Sovereign and pious else, could speak thee out-
- The queen of earthly queens. She's noble born;
- And like her true nobility she has
- Carried herself towards me.
- WOLSEY. Most gracious sir,
- In humblest manner I require your Highness
- That it shall please you to declare in hearing
- Of all these ears-for where I am robb'd and bound,
- There must I be unloos'd, although not there
- At once and fully satisfied-whether ever I
- Did broach this business to your Highness, or
- Laid any scruple in your way which might
- Induce you to the question on't, or ever
- Have to you, but with thanks to God for such
- A royal lady, spake one the least word that might
- Be to the prejudice of her present state,
- Or touch of her good person?
- KING. My Lord Cardinal,
- I do excuse you; yea, upon mine honour,
- I free you from't. You are not to be taught
- That you have many enemies that know not
- Why they are so, but, like to village curs,
- Bark when their fellows do. By some of these
- The Queen is put in anger. Y'are excus'd.
- But will you be more justified? You ever
- Have wish'd the sleeping of this business; never desir'd
- It to be stirr'd; but oft have hind'red, oft,
- The passages made toward it. On my honour,
- I speak my good Lord Cardinal to this point,
- And thus far clear him. Now, what mov'd me to't,
- I will be bold with time and your attention.
- Then mark th' inducement. Thus it came-give heed to't:
- My conscience first receiv'd a tenderness,
- Scruple, and prick, on certain speeches utter'd
- By th' Bishop of Bayonne, then French ambassador,
- Who had been hither sent on the debating
- A marriage 'twixt the Duke of Orleans and
- Our daughter Mary. I' th' progress of this business,
- Ere a determinate resolution, he-
- I mean the Bishop-did require a respite
- Wherein he might the King his lord advertise
- Whether our daughter were legitimate,
- Respecting this our marriage with the dowager,
- Sometimes our brother's wife. This respite shook
- The bosom of my conscience, enter'd me,
- Yea, with a splitting power, and made to tremble
- The region of my breast, which forc'd such way
- That many maz'd considerings did throng
- And press'd in with this caution. First, methought
- I stood not in the smile of heaven, who had
- Commanded nature that my lady's womb,
- If it conceiv'd a male child by me, should
- Do no more offices of life to't than
- The grave does to the dead; for her male issue
- Or died where they were made, or shortly after
- This world had air'd them. Hence I took a thought
- This was a judgment on me, that my kingdom,
- Well worthy the best heir o' th' world, should not
- Be gladded in't by me. Then follows that
- I weigh'd the danger which my realms stood in
- By this my issue's fail, and that gave to me
- Many a groaning throe. Thus hulling in
- The wild sea of my conscience, I did steer
- Toward this remedy, whereupon we are
- Now present here together; that's to say
- I meant to rectify my conscience, which
- I then did feel full sick, and yet not well,
- By all the reverend fathers of the land
- And doctors learn'd. First, I began in private
- With you, my Lord of Lincoln; you remember
- How under my oppression I did reek,
- When I first mov'd you.
- LINCOLN. Very well, my liege.
- KING. I have spoke long; be pleas'd yourself to say
- How far you satisfied me.
- LINCOLN. So please your Highness,
- The question did at first so stagger me-
- Bearing a state of mighty moment in't
- And consequence of dread-that I committed
- The daring'st counsel which I had to doubt,
- And did entreat your Highness to this course
- Which you are running here.
- KING. I then mov'd you,
- My Lord of Canterbury, and got your leave
- To make this present summons. Unsolicited
- I left no reverend person in this court,
- But by particular consent proceeded
- Under your hands and seals; therefore, go on,
- For no dislike i' th' world against the person
- Of the good Queen, but the sharp thorny points
- Of my alleged reasons, drives this forward.
- Prove but our marriage lawful, by my life
- And kingly dignity, we are contented
- To wear our moral state to come with her,
- Katharine our queen, before the primest creature
- That's paragon'd o' th' world.
- CAMPEIUS. So please your Highness,
- The Queen being absent, 'tis a needful fitness
- That we adjourn this court till further day;
- Meanwhile must be an earnest motion
- Made to the Queen to call back her appeal
- She intends unto his Holiness.
- KING. [Aside] I may perceive
- These cardinals trifle with me. I abhor
- This dilatory sloth and tricks of Rome.
- My learn'd and well-beloved servant, Cranmer,
- Prithee return. With thy approach I know
- My comfort comes along. -Break up the court;
- I say, set on. Exuent in manner as they entered
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-ACT III. SCENE 1.
-
-London. The QUEEN'S apartments
-
-Enter the QUEEN and her women, as at work
-
- QUEEN KATHARINE. Take thy lute, wench. My soul grows
- sad with troubles;
- Sing and disperse 'em, if thou canst. Leave working.
-
- SONG
-
- Orpheus with his lute made trees,
- And the mountain tops that freeze,
- Bow themselves when he did sing;
- To his music plants and flowers
- Ever sprung, as sun and showers
- There had made a lasting spring.
-
- Every thing that heard him play,
- Even the billows of the sea,
- Hung their heads and then lay by.
- In sweet music is such art,
- Killing care and grief of heart
- Fall asleep or hearing die.
-
- Enter a GENTLEMAN
-
- QUEEN KATHARINE. How now?
- GENTLEMAN. An't please your Grace, the two great Cardinals
- Wait in the presence.
- QUEEN KATHARINE. Would they speak with me?
- GENTLEMAN. They will'd me say so, madam.
- QUEEN KATHARINE. Pray their Graces
- To come near. [Exit GENTLEMAN] What can be their business
- With me, a poor weak woman, fall'n from favour?
- I do not like their coming. Now I think on't,
- They should be good men, their affairs as righteous;
- But all hoods make not monks.
-
- Enter the two CARDINALS, WOLSEY and CAMPEIUS
-
- WOLSEY. Peace to your Highness!
- QUEEN KATHARINE. Your Graces find me here part of housewife;
- I would be all, against the worst may happen.
- What are your pleasures with me, reverend lords?
- WOLSEY. May it please you, noble madam, to withdraw
- Into your private chamber, we shall give you
- The full cause of our coming.
- QUEEN KATHARINE. Speak it here;
- There's nothing I have done yet, o' my conscience,
- Deserves a corner. Would all other women
- Could speak this with as free a soul as I do!
- My lords, I care not-so much I am happy
- Above a number-if my actions
- Were tried by ev'ry tongue, ev'ry eye saw 'em,
- Envy and base opinion set against 'em,
- I know my life so even. If your business
- Seek me out, and that way I am wife in,
- Out with it boldly; truth loves open dealing.
- WOLSEY. Tanta est erga te mentis integritas, regina serenis-sima-
- QUEEN KATHARINE. O, good my lord, no Latin!
- I am not such a truant since my coming,
- As not to know the language I have liv'd in;
- A strange tongue makes my cause more strange, suspicious;
- Pray speak in English. Here are some will thank you,
- If you speak truth, for their poor mistress' sake:
- Believe me, she has had much wrong. Lord Cardinal,
- The willing'st sin I ever yet committed
- May be absolv'd in English.
- WOLSEY. Noble lady,
- I am sorry my integrity should breed,
- And service to his Majesty and you,
- So deep suspicion, where all faith was meant
- We come not by the way of accusation
- To taint that honour every good tongue blesses,
- Nor to betray you any way to sorrow-
- You have too much, good lady; but to know
- How you stand minded in the weighty difference
- Between the King and you, and to deliver,
- Like free and honest men, our just opinions
- And comforts to your cause.
- CAMPEIUS. Most honour'd madam,
- My Lord of York, out of his noble nature,
- Zeal and obedience he still bore your Grace,
- Forgetting, like a good man, your late censure
- Both of his truth and him-which was too far-
- Offers, as I do, in a sign of peace,
- His service and his counsel.
- QUEEN KATHARINE. [Aside] To betray me.-
- My lords, I thank you both for your good wins;
- Ye speak like honest men-pray God ye prove so!
- But how to make ye suddenly an answer,
- In such a point of weight, so near mine honour,
- More near my life, I fear, with my weak wit,
- And to such men of gravity and learning,
- In truth I know not. I was set at work
- Among my maids, full little, God knows, looking
- Either for such men or such business.
- For her sake that I have been-for I feel
- The last fit of my greatness-good your Graces,
- Let me have time and counsel for my cause.
- Alas, I am a woman, friendless, hopeless!
- WOLSEY. Madam, you wrong the King's love with these fears;
- Your hopes and friends are infinite.
- QUEEN KATHARINE. In England
- But little for my profit; can you think, lords,
- That any Englishman dare give me counsel?
- Or be a known friend, 'gainst his Highness' pleasure-
- Though he be grown so desperate to be honest-
- And live a subject? Nay, forsooth, my friends,
- They that must weigh out my afflictions,
- They that my trust must grow to, live not here;
- They are, as all my other comforts, far hence,
- In mine own country, lords.
- CAMPEIUS. I would your Grace
- Would leave your griefs, and take my counsel.
- QUEEN KATHARINE. How, sir?
- CAMPEIUS. Put your main cause into the King's protection;
- He's loving and most gracious. 'Twill be much
- Both for your honour better and your cause;
- For if the trial of the law o'ertake ye
- You'll part away disgrac'd.
- WOLSEY. He tells you rightly.
- QUEEN KATHARINE. Ye tell me what ye wish for both-my ruin.
- Is this your Christian counsel? Out upon ye!
- Heaven is above all yet: there sits a Judge
- That no king can corrupt.
- CAMPEIUS. Your rage mistakes us.
- QUEEN KATHARINE. The more shame for ye; holy men I thought ye,
- Upon my soul, two reverend cardinal virtues;
- But cardinal sins and hollow hearts I fear ye.
- Mend 'em, for shame, my lords. Is this your comfort?
- The cordial that ye bring a wretched lady-
- A woman lost among ye, laugh'd at, scorn'd?
- I will not wish ye half my miseries:
- I have more charity; but say I warned ye.
- Take heed, for heaven's sake take heed, lest at once
- The burden of my sorrows fall upon ye.
- WOLSEY. Madam, this is a mere distraction;
- You turn the good we offer into envy.
- QUEEN KATHARINE. Ye turn me into nothing. Woe upon ye,
- And all such false professors! Would you have me-
- If you have any justice, any pity,
- If ye be any thing but churchmen's habits-
- Put my sick cause into his hands that hates me?
- Alas! has banish'd me his bed already,
- His love too long ago! I am old, my lords,
- And all the fellowship I hold now with him
- Is only my obedience. What can happen
- To me above this wretchedness? All your studies
- Make me a curse like this.
- CAMPEIUS. Your fears are worse.
- QUEEN KATHARINE. Have I liv'd thus long-let me speak myself,
- Since virtue finds no friends-a wife, a true one?
- A woman, I dare say without vain-glory,
- Never yet branded with suspicion?
- Have I with all my full affections
- Still met the King, lov'd him next heav'n, obey'd him,
- Been, out of fondness, superstitious to him,
- Almost forgot my prayers to content him,
- And am I thus rewarded? 'Tis not well, lords.
- Bring me a constant woman to her husband,
- One that ne'er dream'd a joy beyond his pleasure,
- And to that woman, when she has done most,
- Yet will I add an honour-a great patience.
- WOLSEY. Madam, you wander from the good we aim at.
- QUEEN KATHARINE. My lord, I dare not make myself so guilty,
- To give up willingly that noble title
- Your master wed me to: nothing but death
- Shall e'er divorce my dignities.
- WOLSEY. Pray hear me.
- QUEEN KATHARINE. Would I had never trod this English earth,
- Or felt the flatteries that grow upon it!
- Ye have angels' faces, but heaven knows your hearts.
- What will become of me now, wretched lady?
- I am the most unhappy woman living.
- [To her WOMEN] Alas, poor wenches, where are now
- your fortunes?
- Shipwreck'd upon a kingdom, where no pity,
- No friends, no hope; no kindred weep for me;
- Almost no grave allow'd me. Like the My,
- That once was mistress of the field, and flourish'd,
- I'll hang my head and perish.
- WOLSEY. If your Grace
- Could but be brought to know our ends are honest,
- You'd feel more comfort. Why should we, good lady,
- Upon what cause, wrong you? Alas, our places,
- The way of our profession is against it;
- We are to cure such sorrows, not to sow 'em.
- For goodness' sake, consider what you do;
- How you may hurt yourself, ay, utterly
- Grow from the King's acquaintance, by this carriage.
- The hearts of princes kiss obedience,
- So much they love it; but to stubborn spirits
- They swell and grow as terrible as storms.
- I know you have a gentle, noble temper,
- A soul as even as a calm. Pray think us
- Those we profess, peace-makers, friends, and servants.
- CAMPEIUS. Madam, you'll find it so. You wrong your virtues
- With these weak women's fears. A noble spirit,
- As yours was put into you, ever casts
- Such doubts as false coin from it. The King loves you;
- Beware you lose it not. For us, if you please
- To trust us in your business, we are ready
- To use our utmost studies in your service.
- QUEEN KATHARINE. Do what ye will my lords; and pray
- forgive me
- If I have us'd myself unmannerly;
- You know I am a woman, lacking wit
- To make a seemly answer to such persons.
- Pray do my service to his Majesty;
- He has my heart yet, and shall have my prayers
- While I shall have my life. Come, reverend fathers,
- Bestow your counsels on me; she now begs
- That little thought, when she set footing here,
- She should have bought her dignities so dear. Exeunt
-
-
-
-ACT III.SCENE 2.
-
-London. The palace
-
-Enter the DUKE OF NORFOLK, the DUKE OF SUFFOLK, the EARL OF SURREY,
-and the LORD CHAMBERLAIN
-
- NORFOLK. If you will now unite in your complaints
- And force them with a constancy, the Cardinal
- Cannot stand under them: if you omit
- The offer of this time, I cannot promise
- But that you shall sustain moe new disgraces
- With these you bear already.
- SURREY. I am joyful
- To meet the least occasion that may give me
- Remembrance of my father-in-law, the Duke,
- To be reveng'd on him.
- SUFFOLK. Which of the peers
- Have uncontemn'd gone by him, or at least
- Strangely neglected? When did he regard
- The stamp of nobleness in any person
- Out of himself?
- CHAMBERLAIN. My lords, you speak your pleasures.
- What he deserves of you and me I know;
- What we can do to him-though now the time
- Gives way to us-I much fear. If you cannot
- Bar his access to th' King, never attempt
- Anything on him; for he hath a witchcraft
- Over the King in's tongue.
- NORFOLK. O, fear him not!
- His spell in that is out; the King hath found
- Matter against him that for ever mars
- The honey of his language. No, he's settled,
- Not to come off, in his displeasure.
- SURREY. Sir,
- I should be glad to hear such news as this
- Once every hour.
- NORFOLK. Believe it, this is true:
- In the divorce his contrary proceedings
- Are all unfolded; wherein he appears
- As I would wish mine enemy.
- SURREY. How came
- His practices to light?
- SUFFOLK. Most Strangely.
- SURREY. O, how, how?
- SUFFOLK. The Cardinal's letters to the Pope miscarried,
- And came to th' eye o' th' King; wherein was read
- How that the Cardinal did entreat his Holiness
- To stay the judgment o' th' divorce; for if
- It did take place, 'I do' quoth he 'perceive
- My king is tangled in affection to
- A creature of the Queen's, Lady Anne Bullen.'
- SURREY. Has the King this?
- SUFFOLK. Believe it.
- SURREY. Will this work?
- CHAMBERLAIN. The King in this perceives him how he coasts
- And hedges his own way. But in this point
- All his tricks founder, and he brings his physic
- After his patient's death: the King already
- Hath married the fair lady.
- SURREY. Would he had!
- SUFFOLK. May you be happy in your wish, my lord!
- For, I profess, you have it.
- SURREY. Now, all my joy
- Trace the conjunction!
- SUFFOLK. My amen to't!
- NORFOLK. An men's!
- SUFFOLK. There's order given for her coronation;
- Marry, this is yet but young, and may be left
- To some ears unrecounted. But, my lords,
- She is a gallant creature, and complete
- In mind and feature. I persuade me from her
- Will fall some blessing to this land, which shall
- In it be memoriz'd.
- SURREY. But will the King
- Digest this letter of the Cardinal's?
- The Lord forbid!
- NORFOLK. Marry, amen!
- SUFFOLK. No, no;
- There be moe wasps that buzz about his nose
- Will make this sting the sooner. Cardinal Campeius
- Is stol'n away to Rome; hath ta'en no leave;
- Has left the cause o' th' King unhandled, and
- Is posted, as the agent of our Cardinal,
- To second all his plot. I do assure you
- The King cried 'Ha!' at this.
- CHAMBERLAIN. Now, God incense him,
- And let him cry 'Ha!' louder!
- NORFOLK. But, my lord,
- When returns Cranmer?
- SUFFOLK. He is return'd in his opinions; which
- Have satisfied the King for his divorce,
- Together with all famous colleges
- Almost in Christendom. Shortly, I believe,
- His second marriage shall be publish'd, and
- Her coronation. Katharine no more
- Shall be call'd queen, but princess dowager
- And widow to Prince Arthur.
- NORFOLK. This same Cranmer's
- A worthy fellow, and hath ta'en much pain
- In the King's business.
- SUFFOLK. He has; and we shall see him
- For it an archbishop.
- NORFOLK. So I hear.
- SUFFOLK. 'Tis so.
-
- Enter WOLSEY and CROMWELL
-
- The Cardinal!
- NORFOLK. Observe, observe, he's moody.
- WOLSEY. The packet, Cromwell,
- Gave't you the King?
- CROMWELL. To his own hand, in's bedchamber.
- WOLSEY. Look'd he o' th' inside of the paper?
- CROMWELL. Presently
- He did unseal them; and the first he view'd,
- He did it with a serious mind; a heed
- Was in his countenance. You he bade
- Attend him here this morning.
- WOLSEY. Is he ready
- To come abroad?
- CROMWELL. I think by this he is.
- WOLSEY. Leave me awhile. Exit CROMWELL
- [Aside] It shall be to the Duchess of Alencon,
- The French King's sister; he shall marry her.
- Anne Bullen! No, I'll no Anne Bullens for him;
- There's more in't than fair visage. Bullen!
- No, we'll no Bullens. Speedily I wish
- To hear from Rome. The Marchioness of Pembroke!
- NORFOLK. He's discontented.
- SUFFOLK. May be he hears the King
- Does whet his anger to him.
- SURREY. Sharp enough,
- Lord, for thy justice!
- WOLSEY. [Aside] The late Queen's gentlewoman, a knight's
- daughter,
- To be her mistress' mistress! The Queen's queen!
- This candle burns not clear. 'Tis I must snuff it;
- Then out it goes. What though I know her virtuous
- And well deserving? Yet I know her for
- A spleeny Lutheran; and not wholesome to
- Our cause that she should lie i' th' bosom of
- Our hard-rul'd King. Again, there is sprung up
- An heretic, an arch one, Cranmer; one
- Hath crawl'd into the favour of the King,
- And is his oracle.
- NORFOLK. He is vex'd at something.
-
- Enter the KING, reading of a schedule, and LOVELL
-
- SURREY. I would 'twere something that would fret the string,
- The master-cord on's heart!
- SUFFOLK. The King, the King!
- KING. What piles of wealth hath he accumulated
- To his own portion! And what expense by th' hour
- Seems to flow from him! How, i' th' name of thrift,
- Does he rake this together?-Now, my lords,
- Saw you the Cardinal?
- NORFOLK. My lord, we have
- Stood here observing him. Some strange commotion
- Is in his brain: he bites his lip and starts,
- Stops on a sudden, looks upon the ground,
- Then lays his finger on his temple; straight
- Springs out into fast gait; then stops again,
- Strikes his breast hard; and anon he casts
- His eye against the moon. In most strange postures
- We have seen him set himself.
- KING. It may well be
- There is a mutiny in's mind. This morning
- Papers of state he sent me to peruse,
- As I requir'd; and wot you what I found
- There-on my conscience, put unwittingly?
- Forsooth, an inventory, thus importing
- The several parcels of his plate, his treasure,
- Rich stuffs, and ornaments of household; which
- I find at such proud rate that it outspeaks
- Possession of a subject.
- NORFOLK. It's heaven's will;
- Some spirit put this paper in the packet
- To bless your eye withal.
- KING. If we did think
- His contemplation were above the earth
- And fix'd on spiritual object, he should still
- dwell in his musings; but I am afraid
- His thinkings are below the moon, not worth
- His serious considering.
- [The KING takes his seat and whispers LOVELL,
- who goes to the CARDINAL]
- WOLSEY. Heaven forgive me!
- Ever God bless your Highness!
- KING. Good, my lord,
- You are full of heavenly stuff, and bear the inventory
- Of your best graces in your mind; the which
- You were now running o'er. You have scarce time
- To steal from spiritual leisure a brief span
- To keep your earthly audit; sure, in that
- I deem you an ill husband, and am glad
- To have you therein my companion.
- WOLSEY. Sir,
- For holy offices I have a time; a time
- To think upon the part of business which
- I bear i' th' state; and nature does require
- Her times of preservation, which perforce
- I, her frail son, amongst my brethren mortal,
- Must give my tendance to.
- KING. You have said well.
- WOLSEY. And ever may your Highness yoke together,
- As I will lend you cause, my doing well
- With my well saying!
- KING. 'Tis well said again;
- And 'tis a kind of good deed to say well;
- And yet words are no deeds. My father lov'd you:
- He said he did; and with his deed did crown
- His word upon you. Since I had my office
- I have kept you next my heart; have not alone
- Employ'd you where high profits might come home,
- But par'd my present havings to bestow
- My bounties upon you.
- WOLSEY. [Aside] What should this mean?
- SURREY. [Aside] The Lord increase this business!
- KING. Have I not made you
- The prime man of the state? I pray you tell me
- If what I now pronounce you have found true;
- And, if you may confess it, say withal
- If you are bound to us or no. What say you?
- WOLSEY. My sovereign, I confess your royal graces,
- Show'r'd on me daily, have been more than could
- My studied purposes requite; which went
- Beyond all man's endeavours. My endeavours,
- Have ever come too short of my desires,
- Yet fil'd with my abilities; mine own ends
- Have been mine so that evermore they pointed
- To th' good of your most sacred person and
- The profit of the state. For your great graces
- Heap'd upon me, poor undeserver, I
- Can nothing render but allegiant thanks;
- My pray'rs to heaven for you; my loyalty,
- Which ever has and ever shall be growing,
- Till death, that winter, kill it.
- KING. Fairly answer'd!
- A loyal and obedient subject is
- Therein illustrated; the honour of it
- Does pay the act of it, as, i' th' contrary,
- The foulness is the punishment. I presume
- That, as my hand has open'd bounty to you,
- My heart dropp'd love, my pow'r rain'd honour, more
- On you than any, so your hand and heart,
- Your brain, and every function of your power,
- Should, notwithstanding that your bond of duty,
- As 'twere in love's particular, be more
- To me, your friend, than any.
- WOLSEY. I do profess
- That for your Highness' good I ever labour'd
- More than mine own; that am, have, and will be-
- Though all the world should crack their duty to you,
- And throw it from their soul; though perils did
- Abound as thick as thought could make 'em, and
- Appear in forms more horrid-yet my duty,
- As doth a rock against the chiding flood,
- Should the approach of this wild river break,
- And stand unshaken yours.
- KING. 'Tis nobly spoken.
- Take notice, lords, he has a loyal breast,
- For you have seen him open 't. Read o'er this;
- [Giving him papers]
- And after, this; and then to breakfast with
- What appetite you have.
- Exit the KING, frowning upon the CARDINAL; the NOBLES
- throng after him, smiling and whispering
- WOLSEY. What should this mean?
- What sudden anger's this? How have I reap'd it?
- He parted frowning from me, as if ruin
- Leap'd from his eyes; so looks the chafed lion
- Upon the daring huntsman that has gall'd him-
- Then makes him nothing. I must read this paper;
- I fear, the story of his anger. 'Tis so;
- This paper has undone me. 'Tis th' account
- Of all that world of wealth I have drawn together
- For mine own ends; indeed to gain the popedom,
- And fee my friends in Rome. O negligence,
- Fit for a fool to fall by! What cross devil
- Made me put this main secret in the packet
- I sent the King? Is there no way to cure this?
- No new device to beat this from his brains?
- I know 'twill stir him strongly; yet I know
- A way, if it take right, in spite of fortune,
- Will bring me off again. What's this? 'To th' Pope.'
- The letter, as I live, with all the business
- I writ to's Holiness. Nay then, farewell!
- I have touch'd the highest point of all my greatness,
- And from that full meridian of my glory
- I haste now to my setting. I shall fall
- Like a bright exhalation in the evening,
- And no man see me more.
-
- Re-enter to WOLSEY the DUKES OF NORFOLK and
- SUFFOLK, the EARL OF SURREY, and the LORD
- CHAMBERLAIN
-
- NORFOLK. Hear the King's pleasure, Cardinal, who commands you
- To render up the great seal presently
- Into our hands, and to confine yourself
- To Asher House, my Lord of Winchester's,
- Till you hear further from his Highness.
- WOLSEY. Stay:
- Where's your commission, lords? Words cannot carry
- Authority so weighty.
- SUFFOLK. Who dares cross 'em,
- Bearing the King's will from his mouth expressly?
- WOLSEY. Till I find more than will or words to do it-
- I mean your malice-know, officious lords,
- I dare and must deny it. Now I feel
- Of what coarse metal ye are moulded-envy;
- How eagerly ye follow my disgraces,
- As if it fed ye; and how sleek and wanton
- Ye appear in every thing may bring my ruin!
- Follow your envious courses, men of malice;
- You have Christian warrant for 'em, and no doubt
- In time will find their fit rewards. That seal
- You ask with such a violence, the King-
- Mine and your master-with his own hand gave me;
- Bade me enjoy it, with the place and honours,
- During my life; and, to confirm his goodness,
- Tied it by letters-patents. Now, who'll take it?
- SURREY. The King, that gave it.
- WOLSEY. It must be himself then.
- SURREY. Thou art a proud traitor, priest.
- WOLSEY. Proud lord, thou liest.
- Within these forty hours Surrey durst better
- Have burnt that tongue than said so.
- SURREY. Thy ambition,
- Thou scarlet sin, robb'd this bewailing land
- Of noble Buckingham, my father-in-law.
- The heads of all thy brother cardinals,
- With thee and all thy best parts bound together,
- Weigh'd not a hair of his. Plague of your policy!
- You sent me deputy for Ireland;
- Far from his succour, from the King, from all
- That might have mercy on the fault thou gav'st him;
- Whilst your great goodness, out of holy pity,
- Absolv'd him with an axe.
- WOLSEY. This, and all else
- This talking lord can lay upon my credit,
- I answer is most false. The Duke by law
- Found his deserts; how innocent I was
- From any private malice in his end,
- His noble jury and foul cause can witness.
- If I lov'd many words, lord, I should tell you
- You have as little honesty as honour,
- That in the way of loyalty and truth
- Toward the King, my ever royal master,
- Dare mate a sounder man than Surrey can be
- And an that love his follies.
- SURREY. By my soul,
- Your long coat, priest, protects you; thou shouldst feel
- My sword i' the life-blood of thee else. My lords
- Can ye endure to hear this arrogance?
- And from this fellow? If we live thus tamely,
- To be thus jaded by a piece of scarlet,
- Farewell nobility! Let his Grace go forward
- And dare us with his cap like larks.
- WOLSEY. All goodness
- Is poison to thy stomach.
- SURREY. Yes, that goodness
- Of gleaning all the land's wealth into one,
- Into your own hands, Cardinal, by extortion;
- The goodness of your intercepted packets
- You writ to th' Pope against the King; your goodness,
- Since you provoke me, shall be most notorious.
- My Lord of Norfolk, as you are truly noble,
- As you respect the common good, the state
- Of our despis'd nobility, our issues,
- Whom, if he live, will scarce be gentlemen-
- Produce the grand sum of his sins, the articles
- Collected from his life. I'll startle you
- Worse than the sacring bell, when the brown wench
- Lay kissing in your arms, Lord Cardinal.
- WOLSEY. How much, methinks, I could despise this man,
- But that I am bound in charity against it!
- NORFOLK. Those articles, my lord, are in the King's hand;
- But, thus much, they are foul ones.
- WOLSEY. So much fairer
- And spotless shall mine innocence arise,
- When the King knows my truth.
- SURREY. This cannot save you.
- I thank my memory I yet remember
- Some of these articles; and out they shall.
- Now, if you can blush and cry guilty, Cardinal,
- You'll show a little honesty.
- WOLSEY. Speak on, sir;
- I dare your worst objections. If I blush,
- It is to see a nobleman want manners.
- SURREY. I had rather want those than my head. Have at you!
- First, that without the King's assent or knowledge
- You wrought to be a legate; by which power
- You maim'd the jurisdiction of all bishops.
- NORFOLK. Then, that in all you writ to Rome, or else
- To foreign princes, 'Ego et Rex meus'
- Was still inscrib'd; in which you brought the King
- To be your servant.
- SUFFOLK. Then, that without the knowledge
- Either of King or Council, when you went
- Ambassador to the Emperor, you made bold
- To carry into Flanders the great seal.
- SURREY. Item, you sent a large commission
- To Gregory de Cassado, to conclude,
- Without the King's will or the state's allowance,
- A league between his Highness and Ferrara.
- SUFFOLK. That out of mere ambition you have caus'd
- Your holy hat to be stamp'd on the King's coin.
- SURREY. Then, that you have sent innumerable substance,
- By what means got I leave to your own conscience,
- To furnish Rome and to prepare the ways
- You have for dignities, to the mere undoing
- Of all the kingdom. Many more there are,
- Which, since they are of you, and odious,
- I will not taint my mouth with.
- CHAMBERLAIN. O my lord,
- Press not a falling man too far! 'Tis virtue.
- His faults lie open to the laws; let them,
- Not you, correct him. My heart weeps to see him
- So little of his great self.
- SURREY. I forgive him.
- SUFFOLK. Lord Cardinal, the King's further pleasure is-
- Because all those things you have done of late,
- By your power legatine within this kingdom,
- Fall into th' compass of a praemunire-
- That therefore such a writ be sued against you:
- To forfeit all your goods, lands, tenements,
- Chattels, and whatsoever, and to be
- Out of the King's protection. This is my charge.
- NORFOLK. And so we'll leave you to your meditations
- How to live better. For your stubborn answer
- About the giving back the great seal to us,
- The King shall know it, and, no doubt, shall thank you.
- So fare you well, my little good Lord Cardinal.
- Exeunt all but WOLSEY
- WOLSEY. So farewell to the little good you bear me.
- Farewell, a long farewell, to all my greatness!
- This is the state of man: to-day he puts forth
- The tender leaves of hopes; to-morrow blossoms
- And bears his blushing honours thick upon him;
- The third day comes a frost, a killing frost,
- And when he thinks, good easy man, full surely
- His greatness is a-ripening, nips his root,
- And then he falls, as I do. I have ventur'd,
- Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders,
- This many summers in a sea of glory;
- But far beyond my depth. My high-blown pride
- At length broke under me, and now has left me,
- Weary and old with service, to the mercy
- Of a rude stream, that must for ever hide me.
- Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye;
- I feel my heart new open'd. O, how wretched
- Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favours!
- There is betwixt that smile we would aspire to,
- That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin
- More pangs and fears than wars or women have;
- And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer,
- Never to hope again.
-
- Enter CROMWELL, standing amazed
-
- Why, how now, Cromwell!
- CROMWELL. I have no power to speak, sir.
- WOLSEY. What, amaz'd
- At my misfortunes? Can thy spirit wonder
- A great man should decline? Nay, an you weep,
- I am fall'n indeed.
- CROMWELL. How does your Grace?
- WOLSEY. Why, well;
- Never so truly happy, my good Cromwell.
- I know myself now, and I feel within me
- A peace above all earthly dignities,
- A still and quiet conscience. The King has cur'd me,
- I humbly thank his Grace; and from these shoulders,
- These ruin'd pillars, out of pity, taken
- A load would sink a navy-too much honour.
- O, 'tis a burden, Cromwell, 'tis a burden
- Too heavy for a man that hopes for heaven!
- CROMWELL. I am glad your Grace has made that right use of it.
- WOLSEY. I hope I have. I am able now, methinks,
- Out of a fortitude of soul I feel,
- To endure more miseries and greater far
- Than my weak-hearted enemies dare offer.
- What news abroad?
- CROMWELL. The heaviest and the worst
- Is your displeasure with the King.
- WOLSEY. God bless him!
- CROMWELL. The next is that Sir Thomas More is chosen
- Lord Chancellor in your place.
- WOLSEY. That's somewhat sudden.
- But he's a learned man. May he continue
- Long in his Highness' favour, and do justice
- For truth's sake and his conscience; that his bones
- When he has run his course and sleeps in blessings,
- May have a tomb of orphans' tears wept on him!
- What more?
- CROMWELL. That Cranmer is return'd with welcome,
- Install'd Lord Archbishop of Canterbury.
- WOLSEY. That's news indeed.
- CROMWELL. Last, that the Lady Anne,
- Whom the King hath in secrecy long married,
- This day was view'd in open as his queen,
- Going to chapel; and the voice is now
- Only about her coronation.
- WOLSEY. There was the weight that pull'd me down.
- O Cromwell,
- The King has gone beyond me. All my glories
- In that one woman I have lost for ever.
- No sun shall ever usher forth mine honours,
- Or gild again the noble troops that waited
- Upon my smiles. Go get thee from me, Cromwell;
- I am a poor fall'n man, unworthy now
- To be thy lord and master. Seek the King;
- That sun, I pray, may never set! I have told him
- What and how true thou art. He will advance thee;
- Some little memory of me will stir him-
- I know his noble nature-not to let
- Thy hopeful service perish too. Good Cromwell,
- Neglect him not; make use now, and provide
- For thine own future safety.
- CROMWELL. O my lord,
- Must I then leave you? Must I needs forgo
- So good, so noble, and so true a master?
- Bear witness, all that have not hearts of iron,
- With what a sorrow Cromwell leaves his lord.
- The King shall have my service; but my prayers
- For ever and for ever shall be yours.
- WOLSEY. Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear
- In all my miseries; but thou hast forc'd me,
- Out of thy honest truth, to play the woman.
- Let's dry our eyes; and thus far hear me, Cromwell,
- And when I am forgotten, as I shall be,
- And sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention
- Of me more must be heard of, say I taught thee-
- Say Wolsey, that once trod the ways of glory,
- And sounded all the depths and shoals of honour,
- Found thee a way, out of his wreck, to rise in-
- A sure and safe one, though thy master miss'd it.
- Mark but my fall and that that ruin'd me.
- Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition:
- By that sin fell the angels. How can man then,
- The image of his Maker, hope to win by it?
- Love thyself last; cherish those hearts that hate thee;
- Corruption wins not more than honesty.
- Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace
- To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not;
- Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's,
- Thy God's, and truth's; then, if thou fall'st, O Cromwell,
- Thou fall'st a blessed martyr!
- Serve the King, and-prithee lead me in.
- There take an inventory of all I have
- To the last penny; 'tis the King's. My robe,
- And my integrity to heaven, is all
- I dare now call mine own. O Cromwell, Cromwell!
- Had I but serv'd my God with half the zeal
- I serv'd my King, he would not in mine age
- Have left me naked to mine enemies.
- CROMWELL. Good sir, have patience.
- WOLSEY. So I have. Farewell
- The hopes of court! My hopes in heaven do dwell. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT IV. SCENE 1.
-
-A street in Westminster
-
-Enter two GENTLEMEN, meeting one another
-
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. Y'are well met once again.
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. So are you.
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. You come to take your stand here, and
- behold
- The Lady Anne pass from her coronation?
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. 'Tis all my business. At our last encounter
- The Duke of Buckingham came from his trial.
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. 'Tis very true. But that time offer'd
- sorrow;
- This, general joy.
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. 'Tis well. The citizens,
- I am sure, have shown at full their royal minds-
- As, let 'em have their rights, they are ever forward-
- In celebration of this day with shows,
- Pageants, and sights of honour.
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. Never greater,
- Nor, I'll assure you, better taken, sir.
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. May I be bold to ask what that contains,
- That paper in your hand?
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. Yes; 'tis the list
- Of those that claim their offices this day,
- By custom of the coronation.
- The Duke of Suffolk is the first, and claims
- To be High Steward; next, the Duke of Norfolk,
- He to be Earl Marshal. You may read the rest.
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. I thank you, sir; had I not known
- those customs,
- I should have been beholding to your paper.
- But, I beseech you, what's become of Katharine,
- The Princess Dowager? How goes her business?
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. That I can tell you too. The Archbishop
- Of Canterbury, accompanied with other
- Learned and reverend fathers of his order,
- Held a late court at Dunstable, six miles of
- From Ampthill, where the Princess lay; to which
- She was often cited by them, but appear'd not.
- And, to be short, for not appearance and
- The King's late scruple, by the main assent
- Of all these learned men, she was divorc'd,
- And the late marriage made of none effect;
- Since which she was removed to Kimbolton,
- Where she remains now sick.
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. Alas, good lady! [Trumpets]
- The trumpets sound. Stand close, the Queen is coming.
-[Hautboys]
-
- THE ORDER OF THE CORONATION.
-
- 1. A lively flourish of trumpets.
- 2. Then two JUDGES.
- 3. LORD CHANCELLOR, with purse and mace before him.
- 4. CHORISTERS singing. [Music]
- 5. MAYOR OF LONDON, bearing the mace. Then GARTER, in
- his coat of arms, and on his head he wore a gilt copper
- crown.
- 6. MARQUIS DORSET, bearing a sceptre of gold, on his head a
- demi-coronal of gold. With him, the EARL OF SURREY,
- bearing the rod of silver with the dove, crowned with an
- earl's coronet. Collars of Esses.
- 7. DUKE OF SUFFOLK, in his robe of estate, his coronet on
- his head, bearing a long white wand, as High Steward.
- With him, the DUKE OF NORFOLK, with the rod of
- marshalship, a coronet on his head. Collars of Esses.
- 8. A canopy borne by four of the CINQUE-PORTS; under it
- the QUEEN in her robe; in her hair richly adorned with
- pearl, crowned. On each side her, the BISHOPS OF LONDON
- and WINCHESTER.
- 9. The old DUCHESS OF NORFOLK, in a coronal of gold
- wrought with flowers, bearing the QUEEN'S train.
- 10. Certain LADIES or COUNTESSES, with plain circlets of gold
- without flowers.
-
- Exeunt, first passing over the stage in order and state,
- and then a great flourish of trumpets
-
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. A royal train, believe me. These know.
- Who's that that bears the sceptre?
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. Marquis Dorset;
- And that the Earl of Surrey, with the rod.
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. A bold brave gentleman. That should be
- The Duke of Suffolk?
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. 'Tis the same-High Steward.
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. And that my Lord of Norfolk?
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. Yes.
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. [Looking on the QUEEN] Heaven
- bless thee!
- Thou hast the sweetest face I ever look'd on.
- Sir, as I have a soul, she is an angel;
- Our king has all the Indies in his arms,
- And more and richer, when he strains that lady;
- I cannot blame his conscience.
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. They that bear
- The cloth of honour over her are four barons
- Of the Cinque-ports.
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. Those men are happy; and so are all
- are near her.
- I take it she that carries up the train
- Is that old noble lady, Duchess of Norfolk.
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. It is; and all the rest are countesses.
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. Their coronets say so. These are stars indeed,
- And sometimes falling ones.
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. No more of that.
- Exit Procession, with a great flourish of trumpets
-
- Enter a third GENTLEMAN
-
- God save you, sir! Where have you been broiling?
- THIRD GENTLEMAN. Among the crowds i' th' Abbey, where a finger
- Could not be wedg'd in more; I am stifled
- With the mere rankness of their joy.
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. You saw
- The ceremony?
- THIRD GENTLEMAN. That I did.
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. How was it?
- THIRD GENTLEMAN. Well worth the seeing.
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. Good sir, speak it to us.
- THIRD GENTLEMAN. As well as I am able. The rich stream
- Of lords and ladies, having brought the Queen
- To a prepar'd place in the choir, fell of
- A distance from her, while her Grace sat down
- To rest awhile, some half an hour or so,
- In a rich chair of state, opposing freely
- The beauty of her person to the people.
- Believe me, sir, she is the goodliest woman
- That ever lay by man; which when the people
- Had the full view of, such a noise arose
- As the shrouds make at sea in a stiff tempest,
- As loud, and to as many tunes; hats, cloaks-
- Doublets, I think-flew up, and had their faces
- Been loose, this day they had been lost. Such joy
- I never saw before. Great-bellied women,
- That had not half a week to go, like rams
- In the old time of war, would shake the press,
- And make 'em reel before 'em. No man living
- Could say 'This is my wife' there, all were woven
- So strangely in one piece.
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. But what follow'd?
- THIRD GENTLEMAN. At length her Grace rose, and with
- modest paces
- Came to the altar, where she kneel'd, and saintlike
- Cast her fair eyes to heaven, and pray'd devoutly.
- Then rose again, and bow'd her to the people;
- When by the Archbishop of Canterbury
- She had all the royal makings of a queen:
- As holy oil, Edward Confessor's crown,
- The rod, and bird of peace, and all such emblems
- Laid nobly on her; which perform'd, the choir,
- With all the choicest music of the kingdom,
- Together sung 'Te Deum.' So she parted,
- And with the same full state pac'd back again
- To York Place, where the feast is held.
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. Sir,
- You must no more call it York Place: that's past:
- For since the Cardinal fell that title's lost.
- 'Tis now the King's, and called Whitehall.
- THIRD GENTLEMAN. I know it;
- But 'tis so lately alter'd that the old name
- Is fresh about me.
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. What two reverend bishops
- Were those that went on each side of the Queen?
- THIRD GENTLEMAN. Stokesly and Gardiner: the one of Winchester,
- Newly preferr'd from the King's secretary;
- The other, London.
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. He of Winchester
- Is held no great good lover of the Archbishop's,
- The virtuous Cranmer.
- THIRD GENTLEMAN. All the land knows that;
- However, yet there is no great breach. When it comes,
- Cranmer will find a friend will not shrink from him.
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. Who may that be, I pray you?
- THIRD GENTLEMAN. Thomas Cromwell,
- A man in much esteem with th' King, and truly
- A worthy friend. The King has made him Master
- O' th' jewel House,
- And one, already, of the Privy Council.
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. He will deserve more.
- THIRD GENTLEMAN. Yes, without all doubt.
- Come, gentlemen, ye shall go my way, which
- Is to th' court, and there ye shall be my guests:
- Something I can command. As I walk thither,
- I'll tell ye more.
- BOTH. You may command us, sir. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-ACT IV. SCENE 2.
-
-Kimbolton
-
-Enter KATHARINE, Dowager, sick; led between GRIFFITH, her Gentleman Usher,
-and PATIENCE, her woman
-
- GRIFFITH. How does your Grace?
- KATHARINE. O Griffith, sick to death!
- My legs like loaden branches bow to th' earth,
- Willing to leave their burden. Reach a chair.
- So-now, methinks, I feel a little ease.
- Didst thou not tell me, Griffith, as thou led'st me,
- That the great child of honour, Cardinal Wolsey,
- Was dead?
- GRIFFITH. Yes, madam; but I think your Grace,
- Out of the pain you suffer'd, gave no ear to't.
- KATHARINE. Prithee, good Griffith, tell me how he died.
- If well, he stepp'd before me, happily,
- For my example.
- GRIFFITH. Well, the voice goes, madam;
- For after the stout Earl Northumberland
- Arrested him at York and brought him forward,
- As a man sorely tainted, to his answer,
- He fell sick suddenly, and grew so ill
- He could not sit his mule.
- KATHARINE. Alas, poor man!
- GRIFFITH. At last, with easy roads, he came to Leicester,
- Lodg'd in the abbey; where the reverend abbot,
- With all his covent, honourably receiv'd him;
- To whom he gave these words: 'O father Abbot,
- An old man, broken with the storms of state,
- Is come to lay his weary bones among ye;
- Give him a little earth for charity!'
- So went to bed; where eagerly his sickness
- Pursu'd him still And three nights after this,
- About the hour of eight-which he himself
- Foretold should be his last-full of repentance,
- Continual meditations, tears, and sorrows,
- He gave his honours to the world again,
- His blessed part to heaven, and slept in peace.
- KATHARINE. So may he rest; his faults lie gently on him!
- Yet thus far, Griffith, give me leave to speak him,
- And yet with charity. He was a man
- Of an unbounded stomach, ever ranking
- Himself with princes; one that, by suggestion,
- Tied all the kingdom. Simony was fair play;
- His own opinion was his law. I' th' presence
- He would say untruths, and be ever double
- Both in his words and meaning. He was never,
- But where he meant to ruin, pitiful.
- His promises were, as he then was, mighty;
- But his performance, as he is now, nothing.
- Of his own body he was ill, and gave
- The clergy ill example.
- GRIFFITH. Noble madam,
- Men's evil manners live in brass: their virtues
- We write in water. May it please your Highness
- To hear me speak his good now?
- KATHARINE. Yes, good Griffith;
- I were malicious else.
- GRIFFITH. This Cardinal,
- Though from an humble stock, undoubtedly
- Was fashion'd to much honour from his cradle.
- He was a scholar, and a ripe and good one;
- Exceeding wise, fair-spoken, and persuading;
- Lofty and sour to them that lov'd him not,
- But to those men that sought him sweet as summer.
- And though he were unsatisfied in getting-
- Which was a sin-yet in bestowing, madam,
- He was most princely: ever witness for him
- Those twins of learning that he rais'd in you,
- Ipswich and Oxford! One of which fell with him,
- Unwilling to outlive the good that did it;
- The other, though unfinish'd, yet so famous,
- So excellent in art, and still so rising,
- That Christendom shall ever speak his virtue.
- His overthrow heap'd happiness upon him;
- For then, and not till then, he felt himself,
- And found the blessedness of being little.
- And, to add greater honours to his age
- Than man could give him, he died fearing God.
- KATHARINE. After my death I wish no other herald,
- No other speaker of my living actions,
- To keep mine honour from corruption,
- But such an honest chronicler as Griffith.
- Whom I most hated living, thou hast made me,
- With thy religious truth and modesty,
- Now in his ashes honour. Peace be with him!
- patience, be near me still, and set me lower:
- I have not long to trouble thee. Good Griffith,
- Cause the musicians play me that sad note
- I nam'd my knell, whilst I sit meditating
- On that celestial harmony I go to.
- [Sad and solemn music]
- GRIFFITH. She is asleep. Good wench, let's sit down quiet,
- For fear we wake her. Softly, gentle Patience.
-
- THE VISION.
-
- Enter, solemnly tripping one after another, six
- PERSONAGES clad in white robes, wearing on their
- heads garlands of bays, and golden vizards on their
- faces; branches of bays or palm in their hands. They
- first congee unto her, then dance; and, at certain
- changes, the first two hold a spare garland over her
- head, at which the other four make reverent curtsies.
- Then the two that held the garland deliver the
- same to the other next two, who observe the same
- order in their changes, and holding the garland over
- her head; which done, they deliver the same garland
- to the last two, who likewise observe the same order;
- at which, as it were by inspiration, she makes
- in her sleep signs of rejoicing, and holdeth up her
- hands to heaven. And so in their dancing vanish,
- carrying the garland with them. The music continues
-
- KATHARINE. Spirits of peace, where are ye? Are ye all gone?
- And leave me here in wretchedness behind ye?
- GRIFFITH. Madam, we are here.
- KATHARINE. It is not you I call for.
- Saw ye none enter since I slept?
- GRIFFITH. None, madam.
- KATHARINE. No? Saw you not, even now, a blessed troop
- Invite me to a banquet; whose bright faces
- Cast thousand beams upon me, like the sun?
- They promis'd me eternal happiness,
- And brought me garlands, Griffith, which I feel
- I am not worthy yet to wear. I shall, assuredly.
- GRIFFITH. I am most joyful, madam, such good dreams
- Possess your fancy.
- KATHARINE. Bid the music leave,
- They are harsh and heavy to me. [Music ceases]
- PATIENCE. Do you note
- How much her Grace is alter'd on the sudden?
- How long her face is drawn! How pale she looks,
- And of an earthly cold! Mark her eyes.
- GRIFFITH. She is going, wench. Pray, pray.
- PATIENCE. Heaven comfort her!
-
- Enter a MESSENGER
-
- MESSENGER. An't like your Grace-
- KATHARINE. You are a saucy fellow.
- Deserve we no more reverence?
- GRIFFITH. You are to blame,
- Knowing she will not lose her wonted greatness,
- To use so rude behaviour. Go to, kneel.
- MESSENGER. I humbly do entreat your Highness' pardon;
- My haste made me unmannerly. There is staying
- A gentleman, sent from the King, to see you.
- KATHARINE. Admit him entrance, Griffith; but this fellow
- Let me ne'er see again. Exit MESSENGER
-
- Enter LORD CAPUCIUS
-
- If my sight fail not,
- You should be Lord Ambassador from the Emperor,
- My royal nephew, and your name Capucius.
- CAPUCIUS. Madam, the same-your servant.
- KATHARINE. O, my Lord,
- The times and titles now are alter'd strangely
- With me since first you knew me. But, I pray you,
- What is your pleasure with me?
- CAPUCIUS. Noble lady,
- First, mine own service to your Grace; the next,
- The King's request that I would visit you,
- Who grieves much for your weakness, and by me
- Sends you his princely commendations
- And heartily entreats you take good comfort.
- KATHARINE. O my good lord, that comfort comes too late,
- 'Tis like a pardon after execution:
- That gentle physic, given in time, had cur'd me;
- But now I am past all comforts here, but prayers.
- How does his Highness?
- CAPUCIUS. Madam, in good health.
- KATHARINE. So may he ever do! and ever flourish
- When I shall dwell with worms, and my poor name
- Banish'd the kingdom! Patience, is that letter
- I caus'd you write yet sent away?
- PATIENCE. No, madam. [Giving it to KATHARINE]
- KATHARINE. Sir, I most humbly pray you to deliver
- This to my lord the King.
- CAPUCIUS. Most willing, madam.
- KATHARINE. In which I have commended to his goodness
- The model of our chaste loves, his young daughter-
- The dews of heaven fall thick in blessings on her!-
- Beseeching him to give her virtuous breeding-
- She is young, and of a noble modest nature;
- I hope she will deserve well-and a little
- To love her for her mother's sake, that lov'd him,
- Heaven knows how dearly. My next poor petition
- Is that his noble Grace would have some pity
- Upon my wretched women that so long
- Have follow'd both my fortunes faithfully;
- Of which there is not one, I dare avow-
- And now I should not lie-but will deserve,
- For virtue and true beauty of the soul,
- For honesty and decent carriage,
- A right good husband, let him be a noble;
- And sure those men are happy that shall have 'em.
- The last is for my men-they are the poorest,
- But poverty could never draw 'em from me-
- That they may have their wages duly paid 'em,
- And something over to remember me by.
- If heaven had pleas'd to have given me longer life
- And able means, we had not parted thus.
- These are the whole contents; and, good my lord,
- By that you love the dearest in this world,
- As you wish Christian peace to souls departed,
- Stand these poor people's friend, and urge the King
- To do me this last right.
- CAPUCIUS. By heaven, I will,
- Or let me lose the fashion of a man!
- KATHARINE. I thank you, honest lord. Remember me
- In all humility unto his Highness;
- Say his long trouble now is passing
- Out of this world. Tell him in death I bless'd him,
- For so I will. Mine eyes grow dim. Farewell,
- My lord. Griffith, farewell. Nay, Patience,
- You must not leave me yet. I must to bed;
- Call in more women. When I am dead, good wench,
- Let me be us'd with honour; strew me over
- With maiden flowers, that all the world may know
- I was a chaste wife to my grave. Embalm me,
- Then lay me forth; although unqueen'd, yet like
- A queen, and daughter to a king, inter me.
- I can no more. Exeunt, leading KATHARINE
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT V. SCENE 1.
-
-London. A gallery in the palace
-
-Enter GARDINER, BISHOP OF WINCHESTER, a PAGE with a torch before him,
-met by SIR THOMAS LOVELL
-
- GARDINER. It's one o'clock, boy, is't not?
- BOY. It hath struck.
- GARDINER. These should be hours for necessities,
- Not for delights; times to repair our nature
- With comforting repose, and not for us
- To waste these times. Good hour of night, Sir Thomas!
- Whither so late?
- LOVELL. Came you from the King, my lord?
- GARDINER. I did, Sir Thomas, and left him at primero
- With the Duke of Suffolk.
- LOVELL. I must to him too,
- Before he go to bed. I'll take my leave.
- GARDINER. Not yet, Sir Thomas Lovell. What's the matter?
- It seems you are in haste. An if there be
- No great offence belongs to't, give your friend
- Some touch of your late business. Affairs that walk-
- As they say spirits do-at midnight, have
- In them a wilder nature than the business
- That seeks despatch by day.
- LOVELL. My lord, I love you;
- And durst commend a secret to your ear
- Much weightier than this work. The Queen's in labour,
- They say in great extremity, and fear'd
- She'll with the labour end.
- GARDINER. The fruit she goes with
- I pray for heartily, that it may find
- Good time, and live; but for the stock, Sir Thomas,
- I wish it grubb'd up now.
- LOVELL. Methinks I could
- Cry thee amen; and yet my conscience says
- She's a good creature, and, sweet lady, does
- Deserve our better wishes.
- GARDINER. But, sir, sir-
- Hear me, Sir Thomas. Y'are a gentleman
- Of mine own way; I know you wise, religious;
- And, let me tell you, it will ne'er be well-
- 'Twill not, Sir Thomas Lovell, take't of me-
- Till Cranmer, Cromwell, her two hands, and she,
- Sleep in their graves.
- LOVELL. Now, sir, you speak of two
- The most remark'd i' th' kingdom. As for Cromwell,
- Beside that of the Jewel House, is made Master
- O' th' Rolls, and the King's secretary; further, sir,
- Stands in the gap and trade of moe preferments,
- With which the time will load him. Th' Archbishop
- Is the King's hand and tongue, and who dare speak
- One syllable against him?
- GARDINER. Yes, yes, Sir Thomas,
- There are that dare; and I myself have ventur'd
- To speak my mind of him; and indeed this day,
- Sir-I may tell it you-I think I have
- Incens'd the lords o' th' Council, that he is-
- For so I know he is, they know he is-
- A most arch heretic, a pestilence
- That does infect the land; with which they moved
- Have broken with the King, who hath so far
- Given ear to our complaint-of his great grace
- And princely care, foreseeing those fell mischiefs
- Our reasons laid before him-hath commanded
- To-morrow morning to the Council board
- He be convented. He's a rank weed, Sir Thomas,
- And we must root him out. From your affairs
- I hinder you too long-good night, Sir Thomas.
- LOVELL. Many good nights, my lord; I rest your servant.
- Exeunt GARDINER and PAGE
-
- Enter the KING and the DUKE OF SUFFOLK
-
- KING. Charles, I will play no more to-night;
- My mind's not on't; you are too hard for me.
- SUFFOLK. Sir, I did never win of you before.
- KING. But little, Charles;
- Nor shall not, when my fancy's on my play.
- Now, Lovell, from the Queen what is the news?
- LOVELL. I could not personally deliver to her
- What you commanded me, but by her woman
- I sent your message; who return'd her thanks
- In the great'st humbleness, and desir'd your Highness
- Most heartily to pray for her.
- KING. What say'st thou, ha?
- To pray for her? What, is she crying out?
- LOVELL. So said her woman; and that her suff'rance made
- Almost each pang a death.
- KING. Alas, good lady!
- SUFFOLK. God safely quit her of her burden, and
- With gentle travail, to the gladding of
- Your Highness with an heir!
- KING. 'Tis midnight, Charles;
- Prithee to bed; and in thy pray'rs remember
- Th' estate of my poor queen. Leave me alone,
- For I must think of that which company
- Will not be friendly to.
- SUFFOLK. I wish your Highness
- A quiet night, and my good mistress will
- Remember in my prayers.
- KING. Charles, good night. Exit SUFFOLK
-
- Enter SIR ANTHONY DENNY
-
- Well, sir, what follows?
- DENNY. Sir, I have brought my lord the Archbishop,
- As you commanded me.
- KING. Ha! Canterbury?
- DENNY. Ay, my good lord.
- KING. 'Tis true. Where is he, Denny?
- DENNY. He attends your Highness' pleasure.
- KING. Bring him to us. Exit DENNY
- LOVELL. [Aside] This is about that which the bishop spake.
- I am happily come hither.
-
- Re-enter DENNY, With CRANMER
-
- KING. Avoid the gallery. [LOVELL seems to stay]
- Ha! I have said. Be gone.
- What! Exeunt LOVELL and DENNY
- CRANMER. [Aside] I am fearful-wherefore frowns he thus?
- 'Tis his aspect of terror. All's not well.
- KING. How now, my lord? You do desire to know
- Wherefore I sent for you.
- CRANMER. [Kneeling] It is my duty
- T'attend your Highness' pleasure.
- KING. Pray you, arise,
- My good and gracious Lord of Canterbury.
- Come, you and I must walk a turn together;
- I have news to tell you; come, come, me your hand.
- Ah, my good lord, I grieve at what I speak,
- And am right sorry to repeat what follows.
- I have, and most unwillingly, of late
- Heard many grievous-I do say, my lord,
- Grievous-complaints of you; which, being consider'd,
- Have mov'd us and our Council that you shall
- This morning come before us; where I know
- You cannot with such freedom purge yourself
- But that, till further trial in those charges
- Which will require your answer, you must take
- Your patience to you and be well contented
- To make your house our Tow'r. You a brother of us,
- It fits we thus proceed, or else no witness
- Would come against you.
- CRANMER. I humbly thank your Highness
- And am right glad to catch this good occasion
- Most throughly to be winnowed where my chaff
- And corn shall fly asunder; for I know
- There's none stands under more calumnious tongues
- Than I myself, poor man.
- KING. Stand up, good Canterbury;
- Thy truth and thy integrity is rooted
- In us, thy friend. Give me thy hand, stand up;
- Prithee let's walk. Now, by my holidame,
- What manner of man are you? My lord, I look'd
- You would have given me your petition that
- I should have ta'en some pains to bring together
- Yourself and your accusers, and to have heard you
- Without indurance further.
- CRANMER. Most dread liege,
- The good I stand on is my truth and honesty;
- If they shall fail, I with mine enemies
- Will triumph o'er my person; which I weigh not,
- Being of those virtues vacant. I fear nothing
- What can be said against me.
- KING. Know you not
- How your state stands i' th' world, with the whole world?
- Your enemies are many, and not small; their practices
- Must bear the same proportion; and not ever
- The justice and the truth o' th' question carries
- The due o' th' verdict with it; at what ease
- Might corrupt minds procure knaves as corrupt
- To swear against you? Such things have been done.
- You are potently oppos'd, and with a malice
- Of as great size. Ween you of better luck,
- I mean in perjur'd witness, than your Master,
- Whose minister you are, whiles here He liv'd
- Upon this naughty earth? Go to, go to;
- You take a precipice for no leap of danger,
- And woo your own destruction.
- CRANMER. God and your Majesty
- Protect mine innocence, or I fall into
- The trap is laid for me!
- KING. Be of good cheer;
- They shall no more prevail than we give way to.
- Keep comfort to you, and this morning see
- You do appear before them; if they shall chance,
- In charging you with matters, to commit you,
- The best persuasions to the contrary
- Fail not to use, and with what vehemency
- Th' occasion shall instruct you. If entreaties
- Will render you no remedy, this ring
- Deliver them, and your appeal to us
- There make before them. Look, the good man weeps!
- He's honest, on mine honour. God's blest Mother!
- I swear he is true-hearted, and a soul
- None better in my kingdom. Get you gone,
- And do as I have bid you.
- Exit CRANMER
- He has strangled his language in his tears.
-
- Enter OLD LADY
-
- GENTLEMAN. [Within] Come back; what mean you?
- OLD LADY. I'll not come back; the tidings that I bring
- Will make my boldness manners. Now, good angels
- Fly o'er thy royal head, and shade thy person
- Under their blessed wings!
- KING. Now, by thy looks
- I guess thy message. Is the Queen deliver'd?
- Say ay, and of a boy.
- OLD LADY. Ay, ay, my liege;
- And of a lovely boy. The God of Heaven
- Both now and ever bless her! 'Tis a girl,
- Promises boys hereafter. Sir, your queen
- Desires your visitation, and to be
- Acquainted with this stranger; 'tis as like you
- As cherry is to cherry.
- KING. Lovell!
-
- Enter LOVELL
-
- LOVELL. Sir?
- KING. Give her an hundred marks. I'll to the Queen. Exit
- OLD LADY. An hundred marks? By this light, I'll ha' more!
- An ordinary groom is for such payment.
- I will have more, or scold it out of him.
- Said I for this the girl was like to him! I'll
- Have more, or else unsay't; and now, while 'tis hot,
- I'll put it to the issue. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-ACT V. SCENE 2.
-
-Lobby before the Council Chamber
-
-Enter CRANMER, ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY
-
- CRANMER. I hope I am not too late; and yet the gentleman
- That was sent to me from the Council pray'd me
- To make great haste. All fast? What means this? Ho!
- Who waits there? Sure you know me?
-
- Enter KEEPER
-
- KEEPER. Yes, my lord;
- But yet I cannot help you.
- CRANMER. Why?
- KEEPER. Your Grace must wait till you be call'd for.
-
- Enter DOCTOR BUTTS
-
- CRANMER. So.
- BUTTS. [Aside] This is a piece of malice. I am glad
- I came this way so happily; the King
- Shall understand it presently. Exit
- CRANMER. [Aside] 'Tis Butts,
- The King's physician; as he pass'd along,
- How earnestly he cast his eyes upon me!
- Pray heaven he sound not my disgrace! For certain,
- This is of purpose laid by some that hate me-
- God turn their hearts! I never sought their malice-
- To quench mine honour; they would shame to make me
- Wait else at door, a fellow councillor,
- 'Mong boys, grooms, and lackeys. But their pleasures
- Must be fulfill'd, and I attend with patience.
-
- Enter the KING and BUTTS at window above
-
- BUTTS. I'll show your Grace the strangest sight-
- KING. What's that, Butts?
- BUTTS. I think your Highness saw this many a day.
- KING. Body a me, where is it?
- BUTTS. There my lord:
- The high promotion of his Grace of Canterbury;
- Who holds his state at door, 'mongst pursuivants,
- Pages, and footboys.
- KING. Ha, 'tis he indeed.
- Is this the honour they do one another?
- 'Tis well there's one above 'em yet. I had thought
- They had parted so much honesty among 'em-
- At least good manners-as not thus to suffer
- A man of his place, and so near our favour,
- To dance attendance on their lordships' pleasures,
- And at the door too, like a post with packets.
- By holy Mary, Butts, there's knavery!
- Let 'em alone, and draw the curtain close;
- We shall hear more anon. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-ACT V. SCENE 3.
-
-The Council Chamber
-
-A Council table brought in, with chairs and stools, and placed
-under the state. Enter LORD CHANCELLOR, places himself at the upper end
-of the table on the left band, a seat being left void above him,
-as for Canterbury's seat. DUKE OF SUFFOLK, DUKE OF NORFOLK, SURREY,
-LORD CHAMBERLAIN, GARDINER, seat themselves in order on each side;
-CROMWELL at lower end, as secretary. KEEPER at the door
-
- CHANCELLOR. Speak to the business, master secretary;
- Why are we met in council?
- CROMWELL. Please your honours,
- The chief cause concerns his Grace of Canterbury.
- GARDINER. Has he had knowledge of it?
- CROMWELL. Yes.
- NORFOLK. Who waits there?
- KEEPER. Without, my noble lords?
- GARDINER. Yes.
- KEEPER. My Lord Archbishop;
- And has done half an hour, to know your pleasures.
- CHANCELLOR. Let him come in.
- KEEPER. Your Grace may enter now.
-
- CRANMER approaches the Council table
-
- CHANCELLOR. My good Lord Archbishop, I am very sorry
- To sit here at this present, and behold
- That chair stand empty; but we all are men,
- In our own natures frail and capable
- Of our flesh; few are angels; out of which frailty
- And want of wisdom, you, that best should teach us,
- Have misdemean'd yourself, and not a little,
- Toward the King first, then his laws, in filling
- The whole realm by your teaching and your chaplains-
- For so we are inform'd-with new opinions,
- Divers and dangerous; which are heresies,
- And, not reform'd, may prove pernicious.
- GARDINER. Which reformation must be sudden too,
- My noble lords; for those that tame wild horses
- Pace 'em not in their hands to make 'em gentle,
- But stop their mouth with stubborn bits and spur 'em
- Till they obey the manage. If we suffer,
- Out of our easiness and childish pity
- To one man's honour, this contagious sickness,
- Farewell all physic; and what follows then?
- Commotions, uproars, with a general taint
- Of the whole state; as of late days our neighbours,
- The upper Germany, can dearly witness,
- Yet freshly pitied in our memories.
- CRANMER. My good lords, hitherto in all the progress
- Both of my life and office, I have labour'd,
- And with no little study, that my teaching
- And the strong course of my authority
- Might go one way, and safely; and the end
- Was ever to do well. Nor is there living-
- I speak it with a single heart, my lords-
- A man that more detests, more stirs against,
- Both in his private conscience and his place,
- Defacers of a public peace than I do.
- Pray heaven the King may never find a heart
- With less allegiance in it! Men that make
- Envy and crooked malice nourishment
- Dare bite the best. I do beseech your lordships
- That, in this case of justice, my accusers,
- Be what they will, may stand forth face to face
- And freely urge against me.
- SUFFOLK. Nay, my lord,
- That cannot be; you are a councillor,
- And by that virtue no man dare accuse you.
- GARDINER. My lord, because we have business of more moment,
- We will be short with you. 'Tis his Highness' pleasure
- And our consent, for better trial of you,
- From hence you be committed to the Tower;
- Where, being but a private man again,
- You shall know many dare accuse you boldly,
- More than, I fear, you are provided for.
- CRANMER. Ah, my good Lord of Winchester, I thank you;
- You are always my good friend; if your will pass,
- I shall both find your lordship judge and juror,
- You are so merciful. I see your end-
- 'Tis my undoing. Love and meekness, lord,
- Become a churchman better than ambition;
- Win straying souls with modesty again,
- Cast none away. That I shall clear myself,
- Lay all the weight ye can upon my patience,
- I make as little doubt as you do conscience
- In doing daily wrongs. I could say more,
- But reverence to your calling makes me modest.
- GARDINER. My lord, my lord, you are a sectary;
- That's the plain truth. Your painted gloss discovers,
- To men that understand you, words and weakness.
- CROMWELL. My Lord of Winchester, y'are a little,
- By your good favour, too sharp; men so noble,
- However faulty, yet should find respect
- For what they have been; 'tis a cruelty
- To load a falling man.
- GARDINER. Good Master Secretary,
- I cry your honour mercy; you may, worst
- Of all this table, say so.
- CROMWELL. Why, my lord?
- GARDINER. Do not I know you for a favourer
- Of this new sect? Ye are not sound.
- CROMWELL. Not sound?
- GARDINER. Not sound, I say.
- CROMWELL. Would you were half so honest!
- Men's prayers then would seek you, not their fears.
- GARDINER. I shall remember this bold language.
- CROMWELL. Do.
- Remember your bold life too.
- CHANCELLOR. This is too much;
- Forbear, for shame, my lords.
- GARDINER. I have done.
- CROMWELL. And I.
- CHANCELLOR. Then thus for you, my lord: it stands agreed,
- I take it, by all voices, that forthwith
- You be convey'd to th' Tower a prisoner;
- There to remain till the King's further pleasure
- Be known unto us. Are you all agreed, lords?
- ALL. We are.
- CRANMER. Is there no other way of mercy,
- But I must needs to th' Tower, my lords?
- GARDINER. What other
- Would you expect? You are strangely troublesome.
- Let some o' th' guard be ready there.
-
- Enter the guard
-
- CRANMER. For me?
- Must I go like a traitor thither?
- GARDINER. Receive him,
- And see him safe i' th' Tower.
- CRANMER. Stay, good my lords,
- I have a little yet to say. Look there, my lords;
- By virtue of that ring I take my cause
- Out of the gripes of cruel men and give it
- To a most noble judge, the King my master.
- CHAMBERLAIN. This is the King's ring.
- SURREY. 'Tis no counterfeit.
- SUFFOLK. 'Tis the right ring, by heav'n. I told ye all,
- When we first put this dangerous stone a-rolling,
- 'Twould fall upon ourselves.
- NORFOLK. Do you think, my lords,
- The King will suffer but the little finger
- Of this man to be vex'd?
- CHAMBERLAIN. 'Tis now too certain;
- How much more is his life in value with him!
- Would I were fairly out on't!
- CROMWELL. My mind gave me,
- In seeking tales and informations
- Against this man-whose honesty the devil
- And his disciples only envy at-
- Ye blew the fire that burns ye. Now have at ye!
-
- Enter the KING frowning on them; he takes his seat
-
- GARDINER. Dread sovereign, how much are we bound to heaven
- In daily thanks, that gave us such a prince;
- Not only good and wise but most religious;
- One that in all obedience makes the church
- The chief aim of his honour and, to strengthen
- That holy duty, out of dear respect,
- His royal self in judgment comes to hear
- The cause betwixt her and this great offender.
- KING. You were ever good at sudden commendations,
- Bishop of Winchester. But know I come not
- To hear such flattery now, and in my presence
- They are too thin and bare to hide offences.
- To me you cannot reach you play the spaniel,
- And think with wagging of your tongue to win me;
- But whatsoe'er thou tak'st me for, I'm sure
- Thou hast a cruel nature and a bloody.
- [To CRANMER] Good man, sit down. Now let me see the proudest
- He that dares most but wag his finger at thee.
- By all that's holy, he had better starve
- Than but once think this place becomes thee not.
- SURREY. May it please your Grace-
- KING. No, sir, it does not please me.
- I had thought I had had men of some understanding
- And wisdom of my Council; but I find none.
- Was it discretion, lords, to let this man,
- This good man-few of you deserve that title-
- This honest man, wait like a lousy footboy
- At chamber door? and one as great as you are?
- Why, what a shame was this! Did my commission
- Bid ye so far forget yourselves? I gave ye
- Power as he was a councillor to try him,
- Not as a groom. There's some of ye, I see,
- More out of malice than integrity,
- Would try him to the utmost, had ye mean;
- Which ye shall never have while I live.
- CHANCELLOR. Thus far,
- My most dread sovereign, may it like your Grace
- To let my tongue excuse all. What was purpos'd
- concerning his imprisonment was rather-
- If there be faith in men-meant for his trial
- And fair purgation to the world, than malice,
- I'm sure, in me.
- KING. Well, well, my lords, respect him;
- Take him, and use him well, he's worthy of it.
- I will say thus much for him: if a prince
- May be beholding to a subject,
- Am for his love and service so to him.
- Make me no more ado, but all embrace him;
- Be friends, for shame, my lords! My Lord of Canterbury,
- I have a suit which you must not deny me:
- That is, a fair young maid that yet wants baptism;
- You must be godfather, and answer for her.
- CRANMER. The greatest monarch now alive may glory
- In such an honour; how may I deserve it,
- That am a poor and humble subject to you?
- KING. Come, come, my lord, you'd spare your spoons. You
- shall have
- Two noble partners with you: the old Duchess of Norfolk
- And Lady Marquis Dorset. Will these please you?
- Once more, my Lord of Winchester, I charge you,
- Embrace and love this man.
- GARDINER. With a true heart
- And brother-love I do it.
- CRANMER. And let heaven
- Witness how dear I hold this confirmation.
- KING. Good man, those joyful tears show thy true heart.
- The common voice, I see, is verified
- Of thee, which says thus: 'Do my Lord of Canterbury
- A shrewd turn and he's your friend for ever.'
- Come, lords, we trifle time away; I long
- To have this young one made a Christian.
- As I have made ye one, lords, one remain;
- So I grow stronger, you more honour gain. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-ACT V. SCENE 4.
-
-The palace yard
-
-Noise and tumult within. Enter PORTER and his MAN
-
- PORTER. You'll leave your noise anon, ye rascals. Do you
- take the court for Paris garden? Ye rude slaves, leave your
- gaping.
- [Within: Good master porter, I belong to th' larder.]
- PORTER. Belong to th' gallows, and be hang'd, ye rogue! Is
- this a place to roar in? Fetch me a dozen crab-tree staves,
- and strong ones; these are but switches to 'em. I'll scratch
- your heads. You must be seeing christenings? Do you look
- for ale and cakes here, you rude rascals?
- MAN. Pray, sir, be patient; 'tis as much impossible,
- Unless we sweep 'em from the door with cannons,
- To scatter 'em as 'tis to make 'em sleep
- On May-day morning; which will never be.
- We may as well push against Paul's as stir 'em.
- PORTER. How got they in, and be hang'd?
- MAN. Alas, I know not: how gets the tide in?
- As much as one sound cudgel of four foot-
- You see the poor remainder-could distribute,
- I made no spare, sir.
- PORTER. You did nothing, sir.
- MAN. I am not Samson, nor Sir Guy, nor Colbrand,
- To mow 'em down before me; but if I spar'd any
- That had a head to hit, either young or old,
- He or she, cuckold or cuckold-maker,
- Let me ne'er hope to see a chine again;
- And that I would not for a cow, God save her!
- [ Within: Do you hear, master porter?]
- PORTER. I shall be with you presently, good master puppy.
- Keep the door close, sirrah.
- MAN. What would you have me do?
- PORTER. What should you do, but knock 'em down by th'
- dozens? Is this Moorfields to muster in? Or have we some
- strange Indian with the great tool come to court, the
- women so besiege us? Bless me, what a fry of fornication
- is at door! On my Christian conscience, this one christening
- will beget a thousand: here will be father, godfather,
- and all together.
- MAN. The spoons will be the bigger, sir. There is a fellow
- somewhat near the door, he should be a brazier by his
- face, for, o' my conscience, twenty of the dog-days now
- reign in's nose; all that stand about him are under the line,
- they need no other penance. That fire-drake did I hit three
- times on the head, and three times was his nose discharged
- against me; he stands there like a mortar-piece, to blow us.
- There was a haberdasher's wife of small wit near him, that
- rail'd upon me till her pink'd porringer fell off her head,
- for kindling such a combustion in the state. I miss'd the
- meteor once, and hit that woman, who cried out 'Clubs!'
- when I might see from far some forty truncheoners draw
- to her succour, which were the hope o' th' Strand, where
- she was quartered. They fell on; I made good my place.
- At length they came to th' broomstaff to me; I defied 'em
- still; when suddenly a file of boys behind 'em, loose shot,
- deliver'd such a show'r of pebbles that I was fain to draw
- mine honour in and let 'em win the work: the devil was
- amongst 'em, I think surely.
- PORTER. These are the youths that thunder at a playhouse
- and fight for bitten apples; that no audience but the tribulation
- of Tower-hill or the limbs of Limehouse, their dear
- brothers, are able to endure. I have some of 'em in Limbo
- Patrum, and there they are like to dance these three days;
- besides the running banquet of two beadles that is to come.
-
- Enter the LORD CHAMBERLAIN
-
- CHAMBERLAIN. Mercy o' me, what a multitude are here!
- They grow still too; from all parts they are coming,
- As if we kept a fair here! Where are these porters,
- These lazy knaves? Y'have made a fine hand, fellows.
- There's a trim rabble let in: are all these
- Your faithful friends o' th' suburbs? We shall have
- Great store of room, no doubt, left for the ladies,
- When they pass back from the christening.
- PORTER. An't please your honour,
- We are but men; and what so many may do,
- Not being torn a pieces, we have done.
- An army cannot rule 'em.
- CHAMBERLAIN. As I live,
- If the King blame me for't, I'll lay ye an
- By th' heels, and suddenly; and on your heads
- Clap round fines for neglect. Y'are lazy knaves;
- And here ye lie baiting of bombards, when
- Ye should do service. Hark! the trumpets sound;
- Th' are come already from the christening.
- Go break among the press and find a way out
- To let the troops pass fairly, or I'll find
- A Marshalsea shall hold ye play these two months.
- PORTER. Make way there for the Princess.
- MAN. You great fellow,
- Stand close up, or I'll make your head ache.
- PORTER. You i' th' camlet, get up o' th' rail;
- I'll peck you o'er the pales else. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-ACT V. SCENE 5.
-
-The palace
-
-Enter TRUMPETS, sounding; then two ALDERMEN, LORD MAYOR, GARTER, CRANMER,
-DUKE OF NORFOLK, with his marshal's staff, DUKE OF SUFFOLK,
-two Noblemen bearing great standing-bowls for the christening gifts;
-then four Noblemen bearing a canopy, under which the DUCHESS OF NORFOLK,
-godmother, bearing the CHILD richly habited in a mantle, etc.,
-train borne by a LADY; then follows the MARCHIONESS DORSET,
-the other godmother, and LADIES. The troop pass once about the stage,
-and GARTER speaks
-
- GARTER. Heaven, from thy endless goodness, send prosperous
- life, long and ever-happy, to the high and mighty
- Princess of England, Elizabeth!
-
- Flourish. Enter KING and guard
-
- CRANMER. [Kneeling] And to your royal Grace and the
- good Queen!
- My noble partners and myself thus pray:
- All comfort, joy, in this most gracious lady,
- Heaven ever laid up to make parents happy,
- May hourly fall upon ye!
- KING. Thank you, good Lord Archbishop.
- What is her name?
- CRANMER. Elizabeth.
- KING. Stand up, lord. [The KING kisses the child]
- With this kiss take my blessing: God protect thee!
- Into whose hand I give thy life.
- CRANMER. Amen.
- KING. My noble gossips, y'have been too prodigal;
- I thank ye heartily. So shall this lady,
- When she has so much English.
- CRANMER. Let me speak, sir,
- For heaven now bids me; and the words I utter
- Let none think flattery, for they'll find 'em truth.
- This royal infant-heaven still move about her!-
- Though in her cradle, yet now promises
- Upon this land a thousand blessings,
- Which time shall bring to ripeness. She shall be-
- But few now living can behold that goodness-
- A pattern to all princes living with her,
- And all that shall succeed. Saba was never
- More covetous of wisdom and fair virtue
- Than this pure soul shall be. All princely graces
- That mould up such a mighty piece as this is,
- With all the virtues that attend the good,
- Shall still be doubled on her. Truth shall nurse her,
- Holy and heavenly thoughts still counsel her;
- She shall be lov'd and fear'd. Her own shall bless her:
- Her foes shake like a field of beaten corn,
- And hang their heads with sorrow. Good grows with her;
- In her days every man shall eat in safety
- Under his own vine what he plants, and sing
- The merry songs of peace to all his neighbours.
- God shall be truly known; and those about her
- From her shall read the perfect ways of honour,
- And by those claim their greatness, not by blood.
- Nor shall this peace sleep with her; but as when
- The bird of wonder dies, the maiden phoenix
- Her ashes new create another heir
- As great in admiration as herself,
- So shall she leave her blessedness to one-
- When heaven shall call her from this cloud of darkness-
- Who from the sacred ashes of her honour
- Shall star-like rise, as great in fame as she was,
- And so stand fix'd. Peace, plenty, love, truth, terror,
- That were the servants to this chosen infant,
- Shall then be his, and like a vine grow to him;
- Wherever the bright sun of heaven shall shine,
- His honour and the greatness of his name
- Shall be, and make new nations; he shall flourish,
- And like a mountain cedar reach his branches
- To all the plains about him; our children's children
- Shall see this and bless heaven.
- KING. Thou speakest wonders.
- CRANMER. She shall be, to the happiness of England,
- An aged princess; many days shall see her,
- And yet no day without a deed to crown it.
- Would I had known no more! But she must die-
- She must, the saints must have her-yet a virgin;
- A most unspotted lily shall she pass
- To th' ground, and all the world shall mourn her.
- KING. O Lord Archbishop,
- Thou hast made me now a man; never before
- This happy child did I get anything.
- This oracle of comfort has so pleas'd me
- That when I am in heaven I shall desire
- To see what this child does, and praise my Maker.
- I thank ye all. To you, my good Lord Mayor,
- And you, good brethren, I am much beholding;
- I have receiv'd much honour by your presence,
- And ye shall find me thankful. Lead the way, lords;
- Ye must all see the Queen, and she must thank ye,
- She will be sick else. This day, no man think
- Has business at his house; for all shall stay.
- This little one shall make it holiday. Exeunt
-
-KING_HENRY_VIII|EPILOGUE
- THE EPILOGUE.
-
- 'Tis ten to one this play can never please
- All that are here. Some come to take their ease
- And sleep an act or two; but those, we fear,
- W'have frighted with our trumpets; so, 'tis clear,
- They'll say 'tis nought; others to hear the city
- Abus'd extremely, and to cry 'That's witty!'
- Which we have not done neither; that, I fear,
- All the expected good w'are like to hear
- For this play at this time is only in
- The merciful construction of good women;
- For such a one we show'd 'em. If they smile
- And say 'twill do, I know within a while
- All the best men are ours; for 'tis ill hap
- If they hold when their ladies bid 'em clap.
-
-THE END
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-
-
-1597
-
-KING JOHN
-
-by William Shakespeare
-
-
-
-DRAMATIS PERSONAE
-
- KING JOHN
- PRINCE HENRY, his son
- ARTHUR, DUKE OF BRITAINE, son of Geffrey, late Duke of
- Britaine, the elder brother of King John
- EARL OF PEMBROKE
- EARL OF ESSEX
- EARL OF SALISBURY
- LORD BIGOT
- HUBERT DE BURGH
- ROBERT FAULCONBRIDGE, son to Sir Robert Faulconbridge
- PHILIP THE BASTARD, his half-brother
- JAMES GURNEY, servant to Lady Faulconbridge
- PETER OF POMFRET, a prophet
-
- KING PHILIP OF FRANCE
- LEWIS, the Dauphin
- LYMOGES, Duke of Austria
- CARDINAL PANDULPH, the Pope's legate
- MELUN, a French lord
- CHATILLON, ambassador from France to King John
-
- QUEEN ELINOR, widow of King Henry II and mother to
- King John
- CONSTANCE, Mother to Arthur
- BLANCH OF SPAIN, daughter to the King of Castile
- and niece to King John
- LADY FAULCONBRIDGE, widow of Sir Robert Faulconbridge
-
- Lords, Citizens of Angiers, Sheriff, Heralds, Officers,
- Soldiers, Executioners, Messengers, Attendants
-
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-SCENE:
-England and France
-
-
-
-ACT I. SCENE 1
-
-KING JOHN's palace
-
-Enter KING JOHN, QUEEN ELINOR, PEMBROKE, ESSEX, SALISBURY, and others,
-with CHATILLON
-
- KING JOHN. Now, say, Chatillon, what would France with us?
- CHATILLON. Thus, after greeting, speaks the King of France
- In my behaviour to the majesty,
- The borrowed majesty, of England here.
- ELINOR. A strange beginning- 'borrowed majesty'!
- KING JOHN. Silence, good mother; hear the embassy.
- CHATILLON. Philip of France, in right and true behalf
- Of thy deceased brother Geffrey's son,
- Arthur Plantagenet, lays most lawful claim
- To this fair island and the territories,
- To Ireland, Poictiers, Anjou, Touraine, Maine,
- Desiring thee to lay aside the sword
- Which sways usurpingly these several titles,
- And put the same into young Arthur's hand,
- Thy nephew and right royal sovereign.
- KING JOHN. What follows if we disallow of this?
- CHATILLON. The proud control of fierce and bloody war,
- To enforce these rights so forcibly withheld.
- KING JOHN. Here have we war for war, and blood for blood,
- Controlment for controlment- so answer France.
- CHATILLON. Then take my king's defiance from my mouth-
- The farthest limit of my embassy.
- KING JOHN. Bear mine to him, and so depart in peace;
- Be thou as lightning in the eyes of France;
- For ere thou canst report I will be there,
- The thunder of my cannon shall be heard.
- So hence! Be thou the trumpet of our wrath
- And sullen presage of your own decay.
- An honourable conduct let him have-
- Pembroke, look to 't. Farewell, Chatillon.
- Exeunt CHATILLON and PEMBROKE
- ELINOR. What now, my son! Have I not ever said
- How that ambitious Constance would not cease
- Till she had kindled France and all the world
- Upon the right and party of her son?
- This might have been prevented and made whole
- With very easy arguments of love,
- Which now the manage of two kingdoms must
- With fearful bloody issue arbitrate.
- KING JOHN. Our strong possession and our right for us!
- ELINOR. Your strong possession much more than your right,
- Or else it must go wrong with you and me;
- So much my conscience whispers in your ear,
- Which none but heaven and you and I shall hear.
-
- Enter a SHERIFF
-
- ESSEX. My liege, here is the strangest controversy
- Come from the country to be judg'd by you
- That e'er I heard. Shall I produce the men?
- KING JOHN. Let them approach. Exit SHERIFF
- Our abbeys and our priories shall pay
- This expedition's charge.
-
- Enter ROBERT FAULCONBRIDGE and PHILIP, his bastard
- brother
-
- What men are you?
- BASTARD. Your faithful subject I, a gentleman
- Born in Northamptonshire, and eldest son,
- As I suppose, to Robert Faulconbridge-
- A soldier by the honour-giving hand
- Of Coeur-de-lion knighted in the field.
- KING JOHN. What art thou?
- ROBERT. The son and heir to that same Faulconbridge.
- KING JOHN. Is that the elder, and art thou the heir?
- You came not of one mother then, it seems.
- BASTARD. Most certain of one mother, mighty king-
- That is well known- and, as I think, one father;
- But for the certain knowledge of that truth
- I put you o'er to heaven and to my mother.
- Of that I doubt, as all men's children may.
- ELINOR. Out on thee, rude man! Thou dost shame thy mother,
- And wound her honour with this diffidence.
- BASTARD. I, madam? No, I have no reason for it-
- That is my brother's plea, and none of mine;
- The which if he can prove, 'a pops me out
- At least from fair five hundred pound a year.
- Heaven guard my mother's honour and my land!
- KING JOHN. A good blunt fellow. Why, being younger born,
- Doth he lay claim to thine inheritance?
- BASTARD. I know not why, except to get the land.
- But once he slander'd me with bastardy;
- But whe'er I be as true begot or no,
- That still I lay upon my mother's head;
- But that I am as well begot, my liege-
- Fair fall the bones that took the pains for me!-
- Compare our faces and be judge yourself.
- If old Sir Robert did beget us both
- And were our father, and this son like him-
- O old Sir Robert, father, on my knee
- I give heaven thanks I was not like to thee!
- KING JOHN. Why, what a madcap hath heaven lent us here!
- ELINOR. He hath a trick of Coeur-de-lion's face;
- The accent of his tongue affecteth him.
- Do you not read some tokens of my son
- In the large composition of this man?
- KING JOHN. Mine eye hath well examined his parts
- And finds them perfect Richard. Sirrah, speak,
- What doth move you to claim your brother's land?
- BASTARD. Because he hath a half-face, like my father.
- With half that face would he have all my land:
- A half-fac'd groat five hundred pound a year!
- ROBERT. My gracious liege, when that my father liv'd,
- Your brother did employ my father much-
- BASTARD. Well, sir, by this you cannot get my land:
- Your tale must be how he employ'd my mother.
- ROBERT. And once dispatch'd him in an embassy
- To Germany, there with the Emperor
- To treat of high affairs touching that time.
- Th' advantage of his absence took the King,
- And in the meantime sojourn'd at my father's;
- Where how he did prevail I shame to speak-
- But truth is truth: large lengths of seas and shores
- Between my father and my mother lay,
- As I have heard my father speak himself,
- When this same lusty gentleman was got.
- Upon his death-bed he by will bequeath'd
- His lands to me, and took it on his death
- That this my mother's son was none of his;
- And if he were, he came into the world
- Full fourteen weeks before the course of time.
- Then, good my liege, let me have what is mine,
- My father's land, as was my father's will.
- KING JOHN. Sirrah, your brother is legitimate:
- Your father's wife did after wedlock bear him,
- And if she did play false, the fault was hers;
- Which fault lies on the hazards of all husbands
- That marry wives. Tell me, how if my brother,
- Who, as you say, took pains to get this son,
- Had of your father claim'd this son for his?
- In sooth, good friend, your father might have kept
- This calf, bred from his cow, from all the world;
- In sooth, he might; then, if he were my brother's,
- My brother might not claim him; nor your father,
- Being none of his, refuse him. This concludes:
- My mother's son did get your father's heir;
- Your father's heir must have your father's land.
- ROBERT. Shall then my father's will be of no force
- To dispossess that child which is not his?
- BASTARD. Of no more force to dispossess me, sir,
- Than was his will to get me, as I think.
- ELINOR. Whether hadst thou rather be a Faulconbridge,
- And like thy brother, to enjoy thy land,
- Or the reputed son of Coeur-de-lion,
- Lord of thy presence and no land beside?
- BASTARD. Madam, an if my brother had my shape
- And I had his, Sir Robert's his, like him;
- And if my legs were two such riding-rods,
- My arms such eel-skins stuff'd, my face so thin
- That in mine ear I durst not stick a rose
- Lest men should say 'Look where three-farthings goes!'
- And, to his shape, were heir to all this land-
- Would I might never stir from off this place,
- I would give it every foot to have this face!
- I would not be Sir Nob in any case.
- ELINOR. I like thee well. Wilt thou forsake thy fortune,
- Bequeath thy land to him and follow me?
- I am a soldier and now bound to France.
- BASTARD. Brother, take you my land, I'll take my chance.
- Your face hath got five hundred pound a year,
- Yet sell your face for fivepence and 'tis dear.
- Madam, I'll follow you unto the death.
- ELINOR. Nay, I would have you go before me thither.
- BASTARD. Our country manners give our betters way.
- KING JOHN. What is thy name?
- BASTARD. Philip, my liege, so is my name begun:
- Philip, good old Sir Robert's wife's eldest son.
- KING JOHN. From henceforth bear his name whose form thou bearest:
- Kneel thou down Philip, but rise more great-
- Arise Sir Richard and Plantagenet.
- BASTARD. Brother by th' mother's side, give me your hand;
- My father gave me honour, yours gave land.
- Now blessed be the hour, by night or day,
- When I was got, Sir Robert was away!
- ELINOR. The very spirit of Plantagenet!
- I am thy grandam, Richard: call me so.
- BASTARD. Madam, by chance, but not by truth; what though?
- Something about, a little from the right,
- In at the window, or else o'er the hatch;
- Who dares not stir by day must walk by night;
- And have is have, however men do catch.
- Near or far off, well won is still well shot;
- And I am I, howe'er I was begot.
- KING JOHN. Go, Faulconbridge; now hast thou thy desire:
- A landless knight makes thee a landed squire.
- Come, madam, and come, Richard, we must speed
- For France, for France, for it is more than need.
- BASTARD. Brother, adieu. Good fortune come to thee!
- For thou wast got i' th' way of honesty.
- Exeunt all but the BASTARD
- A foot of honour better than I was;
- But many a many foot of land the worse.
- Well, now can I make any Joan a lady.
- 'Good den, Sir Richard!'-'God-a-mercy, fellow!'
- And if his name be George, I'll call him Peter;
- For new-made honour doth forget men's names:
- 'Tis too respective and too sociable
- For your conversion. Now your traveller,
- He and his toothpick at my worship's mess-
- And when my knightly stomach is suffic'd,
- Why then I suck my teeth and catechize
- My picked man of countries: 'My dear sir,'
- Thus leaning on mine elbow I begin
- 'I shall beseech you'-That is question now;
- And then comes answer like an Absey book:
- 'O sir,' says answer 'at your best command,
- At your employment, at your service, sir!'
- 'No, sir,' says question 'I, sweet sir, at yours.'
- And so, ere answer knows what question would,
- Saving in dialogue of compliment,
- And talking of the Alps and Apennines,
- The Pyrenean and the river Po-
- It draws toward supper in conclusion so.
- But this is worshipful society,
- And fits the mounting spirit like myself;
- For he is but a bastard to the time
- That doth not smack of observation-
- And so am I, whether I smack or no;
- And not alone in habit and device,
- Exterior form, outward accoutrement,
- But from the inward motion to deliver
- Sweet, sweet, sweet poison for the age's tooth;
- Which, though I will not practise to deceive,
- Yet, to avoid deceit, I mean to learn;
- For it shall strew the footsteps of my rising.
- But who comes in such haste in riding-robes?
- What woman-post is this? Hath she no husband
- That will take pains to blow a horn before her?
-
- Enter LADY FAULCONBRIDGE, and JAMES GURNEY
-
- O me, 'tis my mother! How now, good lady!
- What brings you here to court so hastily?
- LADY FAULCONBRIDGE. Where is that slave, thy brother?
- Where is he
- That holds in chase mine honour up and down?
- BASTARD. My brother Robert, old Sir Robert's son?
- Colbrand the giant, that same mighty man?
- Is it Sir Robert's son that you seek so?
- LADY FAULCONBRIDGE. Sir Robert's son! Ay, thou unreverend boy,
- Sir Robert's son! Why scorn'st thou at Sir Robert?
- He is Sir Robert's son, and so art thou.
- BASTARD. James Gurney, wilt thou give us leave awhile?
- GURNEY. Good leave, good Philip.
- BASTARD. Philip-Sparrow! James,
- There's toys abroad-anon I'll tell thee more.
- Exit GURNEY
- Madam, I was not old Sir Robert's son;
- Sir Robert might have eat his part in me
- Upon Good Friday, and ne'er broke his fast.
- Sir Robert could do: well-marry, to confess-
- Could he get me? Sir Robert could not do it:
- We know his handiwork. Therefore, good mother,
- To whom am I beholding for these limbs?
- Sir Robert never holp to make this leg.
- LADY FAULCONBRIDGE. Hast thou conspired with thy brother too,
- That for thine own gain shouldst defend mine honour?
- What means this scorn, thou most untoward knave?
- BASTARD. Knight, knight, good mother, Basilisco-like.
- What! I am dubb'd; I have it on my shoulder.
- But, mother, I am not Sir Robert's son:
- I have disclaim'd Sir Robert and my land;
- Legitimation, name, and all is gone.
- Then, good my mother, let me know my father-
- Some proper man, I hope. Who was it, mother?
- LADY FAULCONBRIDGE. Hast thou denied thyself a Faulconbridge?
- BASTARD. As faithfully as I deny the devil.
- LADY FAULCONBRIDGE. King Richard Coeur-de-lion was thy father.
- By long and vehement suit I was seduc'd
- To make room for him in my husband's bed.
- Heaven lay not my transgression to my charge!
- Thou art the issue of my dear offence,
- Which was so strongly urg'd past my defence.
- BASTARD. Now, by this light, were I to get again,
- Madam, I would not wish a better father.
- Some sins do bear their privilege on earth,
- And so doth yours: your fault was not your folly;
- Needs must you lay your heart at his dispose,
- Subjected tribute to commanding love,
- Against whose fury and unmatched force
- The aweless lion could not wage the fight
- Nor keep his princely heart from Richard's hand.
- He that perforce robs lions of their hearts
- May easily win a woman's. Ay, my mother,
- With all my heart I thank thee for my father!
- Who lives and dares but say thou didst not well
- When I was got, I'll send his soul to hell.
- Come, lady, I will show thee to my kin;
- And they shall say when Richard me begot,
- If thou hadst said him nay, it had been sin.
- Who says it was, he lies; I say 'twas not. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
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-
-ACT II. SCENE 1
-
-France. Before Angiers
-
-Enter, on one side, AUSTRIA and forces; on the other, KING PHILIP OF FRANCE,
-LEWIS the Dauphin, CONSTANCE, ARTHUR, and forces
-
- KING PHILIP. Before Angiers well met, brave Austria.
- Arthur, that great forerunner of thy blood,
- Richard, that robb'd the lion of his heart
- And fought the holy wars in Palestine,
- By this brave duke came early to his grave;
- And for amends to his posterity,
- At our importance hither is he come
- To spread his colours, boy, in thy behalf;
- And to rebuke the usurpation
- Of thy unnatural uncle, English John.
- Embrace him, love him, give him welcome hither.
- ARTHUR. God shall forgive you Coeur-de-lion's death
- The rather that you give his offspring life,
- Shadowing their right under your wings of war.
- I give you welcome with a powerless hand,
- But with a heart full of unstained love;
- Welcome before the gates of Angiers, Duke.
- KING PHILIP. A noble boy! Who would not do thee right?
- AUSTRIA. Upon thy cheek lay I this zealous kiss
- As seal to this indenture of my love:
- That to my home I will no more return
- Till Angiers and the right thou hast in France,
- Together with that pale, that white-fac'd shore,
- Whose foot spurns back the ocean's roaring tides
- And coops from other lands her islanders-
- Even till that England, hedg'd in with the main,
- That water-walled bulwark, still secure
- And confident from foreign purposes-
- Even till that utmost corner of the west
- Salute thee for her king. Till then, fair boy,
- Will I not think of home, but follow arms.
- CONSTANCE. O, take his mother's thanks, a widow's thanks,
- Till your strong hand shall help to give him strength
- To make a more requital to your love!
- AUSTRIA. The peace of heaven is theirs that lift their swords
- In such a just and charitable war.
- KING PHILIP. Well then, to work! Our cannon shall be bent
- Against the brows of this resisting town;
- Call for our chiefest men of discipline,
- To cull the plots of best advantages.
- We'll lay before this town our royal bones,
- Wade to the market-place in Frenchmen's blood,
- But we will make it subject to this boy.
- CONSTANCE. Stay for an answer to your embassy,
- Lest unadvis'd you stain your swords with blood;
- My Lord Chatillon may from England bring
- That right in peace which here we urge in war,
- And then we shall repent each drop of blood
- That hot rash haste so indirectly shed.
-
- Enter CHATILLON
-
- KING PHILIP. A wonder, lady! Lo, upon thy wish,
- Our messenger Chatillon is arriv'd.
- What England says, say briefly, gentle lord;
- We coldly pause for thee. Chatillon, speak.
- CHATILLON. Then turn your forces from this paltry siege
- And stir them up against a mightier task.
- England, impatient of your just demands,
- Hath put himself in arms. The adverse winds,
- Whose leisure I have stay'd, have given him time
- To land his legions all as soon as I;
- His marches are expedient to this town,
- His forces strong, his soldiers confident.
- With him along is come the mother-queen,
- An Ate, stirring him to blood and strife;
- With her the Lady Blanch of Spain;
- With them a bastard of the king's deceas'd;
- And all th' unsettled humours of the land-
- Rash, inconsiderate, fiery voluntaries,
- With ladies' faces and fierce dragons' spleens-
- Have sold their fortunes at their native homes,
- Bearing their birthrights proudly on their backs,
- To make a hazard of new fortunes here.
- In brief, a braver choice of dauntless spirits
- Than now the English bottoms have waft o'er
- Did never float upon the swelling tide
- To do offence and scathe in Christendom. [Drum beats]
- The interruption of their churlish drums
- Cuts off more circumstance: they are at hand;
- To parley or to fight, therefore prepare.
- KING PHILIP. How much unlook'd for is this expedition!
- AUSTRIA. By how much unexpected, by so much
- We must awake endeavour for defence,
- For courage mounteth with occasion.
- Let them be welcome then; we are prepar'd.
-
- Enter KING JOHN, ELINOR, BLANCH, the BASTARD,
- PEMBROKE, and others
-
- KING JOHN. Peace be to France, if France in peace permit
- Our just and lineal entrance to our own!
- If not, bleed France, and peace ascend to heaven,
- Whiles we, God's wrathful agent, do correct
- Their proud contempt that beats His peace to heaven!
- KING PHILIP. Peace be to England, if that war return
- From France to England, there to live in peace!
- England we love, and for that England's sake
- With burden of our armour here we sweat.
- This toil of ours should be a work of thine;
- But thou from loving England art so far
- That thou hast under-wrought his lawful king,
- Cut off the sequence of posterity,
- Outfaced infant state, and done a rape
- Upon the maiden virtue of the crown.
- Look here upon thy brother Geffrey's face:
- These eyes, these brows, were moulded out of his;
- This little abstract doth contain that large
- Which died in Geffrey, and the hand of time
- Shall draw this brief into as huge a volume.
- That Geffrey was thy elder brother born,
- And this his son; England was Geffrey's right,
- And this is Geffrey's. In the name of God,
- How comes it then that thou art call'd a king,
- When living blood doth in these temples beat
- Which owe the crown that thou o'er-masterest?
- KING JOHN. From whom hast thou this great commission, France,
- To draw my answer from thy articles?
- KING PHILIP. From that supernal judge that stirs good thoughts
- In any breast of strong authority
- To look into the blots and stains of right.
- That judge hath made me guardian to this boy,
- Under whose warrant I impeach thy wrong,
- And by whose help I mean to chastise it.
- KING JOHN. Alack, thou dost usurp authority.
- KING PHILIP. Excuse it is to beat usurping down.
- ELINOR. Who is it thou dost call usurper, France?
- CONSTANCE. Let me make answer: thy usurping son.
- ELINOR. Out, insolent! Thy bastard shall be king,
- That thou mayst be a queen and check the world!
- CONSTANCE. My bed was ever to thy son as true
- As thine was to thy husband; and this boy
- Liker in feature to his father Geffrey
- Than thou and John in manners-being as Eke
- As rain to water, or devil to his dam.
- My boy a bastard! By my soul, I think
- His father never was so true begot;
- It cannot be, an if thou wert his mother.
- ELINOR. There's a good mother, boy, that blots thy father.
- CONSTANCE. There's a good grandam, boy, that would blot thee.
- AUSTRIA. Peace!
- BASTARD. Hear the crier.
- AUSTRIA. What the devil art thou?
- BASTARD. One that will play the devil, sir, with you,
- An 'a may catch your hide and you alone.
- You are the hare of whom the proverb goes,
- Whose valour plucks dead lions by the beard;
- I'll smoke your skin-coat an I catch you right;
- Sirrah, look to 't; i' faith I will, i' faith.
- BLANCH. O, well did he become that lion's robe
- That did disrobe the lion of that robe!
- BASTARD. It lies as sightly on the back of him
- As great Alcides' shows upon an ass;
- But, ass, I'll take that burden from your back,
- Or lay on that shall make your shoulders crack.
- AUSTRIA. What cracker is this same that deafs our ears
- With this abundance of superfluous breath?
- King Philip, determine what we shall do straight.
- KING PHILIP. Women and fools, break off your conference.
- King John, this is the very sum of all:
- England and Ireland, Anjou, Touraine, Maine,
- In right of Arthur, do I claim of thee;
- Wilt thou resign them and lay down thy arms?
- KING JOHN. My life as soon. I do defy thee, France.
- Arthur of Britaine, yield thee to my hand,
- And out of my dear love I'll give thee more
- Than e'er the coward hand of France can win.
- Submit thee, boy.
- ELINOR. Come to thy grandam, child.
- CONSTANCE. Do, child, go to it grandam, child;
- Give grandam kingdom, and it grandam will
- Give it a plum, a cherry, and a fig.
- There's a good grandam!
- ARTHUR. Good my mother, peace!
- I would that I were low laid in my grave:
- I am not worth this coil that's made for me.
- ELINOR. His mother shames him so, poor boy, he weeps.
- CONSTANCE. Now shame upon you, whe'er she does or no!
- His grandam's wrongs, and not his mother's shames,
- Draws those heaven-moving pearls from his poor eyes,
- Which heaven shall take in nature of a fee;
- Ay, with these crystal beads heaven shall be brib'd
- To do him justice and revenge on you.
- ELINOR. Thou monstrous slanderer of heaven and earth!
- CONSTANCE. Thou monstrous injurer of heaven and earth,
- Call not me slanderer! Thou and thine usurp
- The dominations, royalties, and rights,
- Of this oppressed boy; this is thy eldest son's son,
- Infortunate in nothing but in thee.
- Thy sins are visited in this poor child;
- The canon of the law is laid on him,
- Being but the second generation
- Removed from thy sin-conceiving womb.
- KING JOHN. Bedlam, have done.
- CONSTANCE. I have but this to say-
- That he is not only plagued for her sin,
- But God hath made her sin and her the plague
- On this removed issue, plagued for her
- And with her plague; her sin his injury,
- Her injury the beadle to her sin;
- All punish'd in the person of this child,
- And all for her-a plague upon her!
- ELINOR. Thou unadvised scold, I can produce
- A will that bars the title of thy son.
- CONSTANCE. Ay, who doubts that? A will, a wicked will;
- A woman's will; a cank'red grandam's will!
- KING PHILIP. Peace, lady! pause, or be more temperate.
- It ill beseems this presence to cry aim
- To these ill-tuned repetitions.
- Some trumpet summon hither to the walls
- These men of Angiers; let us hear them speak
- Whose title they admit, Arthur's or John's.
-
- Trumpet sounds. Enter citizens upon the walls
-
- CITIZEN. Who is it that hath warn'd us to the walls?
- KING PHILIP. 'Tis France, for England.
- KING JOHN. England for itself.
- You men of Angiers, and my loving subjects-
- KING PHILIP. You loving men of Angiers, Arthur's subjects,
- Our trumpet call'd you to this gentle parle-
- KING JOHN. For our advantage; therefore hear us first.
- These flags of France, that are advanced here
- Before the eye and prospect of your town,
- Have hither march'd to your endamagement;
- The cannons have their bowels full of wrath,
- And ready mounted are they to spit forth
- Their iron indignation 'gainst your walls;
- All preparation for a bloody siege
- And merciless proceeding by these French
- Confront your city's eyes, your winking gates;
- And but for our approach those sleeping stones
- That as a waist doth girdle you about
- By the compulsion of their ordinance
- By this time from their fixed beds of lime
- Had been dishabited, and wide havoc made
- For bloody power to rush upon your peace.
- But on the sight of us your lawful king,
- Who painfully with much expedient march
- Have brought a countercheck before your gates,
- To save unscratch'd your city's threat'ned cheeks-
- Behold, the French amaz'd vouchsafe a parle;
- And now, instead of bullets wrapp'd in fire,
- To make a shaking fever in your walls,
- They shoot but calm words folded up in smoke,
- To make a faithless error in your cars;
- Which trust accordingly, kind citizens,
- And let us in-your King, whose labour'd spirits,
- Forwearied in this action of swift speed,
- Craves harbourage within your city walls.
- KING PHILIP. When I have said, make answer to us both.
- Lo, in this right hand, whose protection
- Is most divinely vow'd upon the right
- Of him it holds, stands young Plantagenet,
- Son to the elder brother of this man,
- And king o'er him and all that he enjoys;
- For this down-trodden equity we tread
- In warlike march these greens before your town,
- Being no further enemy to you
- Than the constraint of hospitable zeal
- In the relief of this oppressed child
- Religiously provokes. Be pleased then
- To pay that duty which you truly owe
- To him that owes it, namely, this young prince;
- And then our arms, like to a muzzled bear,
- Save in aspect, hath all offence seal'd up;
- Our cannons' malice vainly shall be spent
- Against th' invulnerable clouds of heaven;
- And with a blessed and unvex'd retire,
- With unhack'd swords and helmets all unbruis'd,
- We will bear home that lusty blood again
- Which here we came to spout against your town,
- And leave your children, wives, and you, in peace.
- But if you fondly pass our proffer'd offer,
- 'Tis not the roundure of your old-fac'd walls
- Can hide you from our messengers of war,
- Though all these English and their discipline
- Were harbour'd in their rude circumference.
- Then tell us, shall your city call us lord
- In that behalf which we have challeng'd it;
- Or shall we give the signal to our rage,
- And stalk in blood to our possession?
- CITIZEN. In brief: we are the King of England's subjects;
- For him, and in his right, we hold this town.
- KING JOHN. Acknowledge then the King, and let me in.
- CITIZEN. That can we not; but he that proves the King,
- To him will we prove loyal. Till that time
- Have we ramm'd up our gates against the world.
- KING JOHN. Doth not the crown of England prove the King?
- And if not that, I bring you witnesses:
- Twice fifteen thousand hearts of England's breed-
- BASTARD. Bastards and else.
- KING JOHN. To verify our title with their lives.
- KING PHILIP. As many and as well-born bloods as those-
- BASTARD. Some bastards too.
- KING PHILIP. Stand in his face to contradict his claim.
- CITIZEN. Till you compound whose right is worthiest,
- We for the worthiest hold the right from both.
- KING JOHN. Then God forgive the sin of all those souls
- That to their everlasting residence,
- Before the dew of evening fall shall fleet
- In dreadful trial of our kingdom's king!
- KING PHILIP. Amen, Amen! Mount, chevaliers; to arms!
- BASTARD. Saint George, that swing'd the dragon, and e'er since
- Sits on's horse back at mine hostess' door,
- Teach us some fence! [To AUSTRIA] Sirrah, were I at home,
- At your den, sirrah, with your lioness,
- I would set an ox-head to your lion's hide,
- And make a monster of you.
- AUSTRIA. Peace! no more.
- BASTARD. O, tremble, for you hear the lion roar!
- KING JOHN. Up higher to the plain, where we'll set forth
- In best appointment all our regiments.
- BASTARD. Speed then to take advantage of the field.
- KING PHILIP. It shall be so; and at the other hill
- Command the rest to stand. God and our right! Exeunt
-
- Here, after excursions, enter the HERALD OF FRANCE,
- with trumpets, to the gates
-
- FRENCH HERALD. You men of Angiers, open wide your gates
- And let young Arthur, Duke of Britaine, in,
- Who by the hand of France this day hath made
- Much work for tears in many an English mother,
- Whose sons lie scattered on the bleeding ground;
- Many a widow's husband grovelling lies,
- Coldly embracing the discoloured earth;
- And victory with little loss doth play
- Upon the dancing banners of the French,
- Who are at hand, triumphantly displayed,
- To enter conquerors, and to proclaim
- Arthur of Britaine England's King and yours.
-
- Enter ENGLISH HERALD, with trumpet
-
- ENGLISH HERALD. Rejoice, you men of Angiers, ring your bells:
- King John, your king and England's, doth approach,
- Commander of this hot malicious day.
- Their armours that march'd hence so silver-bright
- Hither return all gilt with Frenchmen's blood.
- There stuck no plume in any English crest
- That is removed by a staff of France;
- Our colours do return in those same hands
- That did display them when we first march'd forth;
- And like a jolly troop of huntsmen come
- Our lusty English, all with purpled hands,
- Dy'd in the dying slaughter of their foes.
- Open your gates and give the victors way.
- CITIZEN. Heralds, from off our tow'rs we might behold
- From first to last the onset and retire
- Of both your armies, whose equality
- By our best eyes cannot be censured.
- Blood hath bought blood, and blows have answer'd blows;
- Strength match'd with strength, and power confronted power;
- Both are alike, and both alike we like.
- One must prove greatest. While they weigh so even,
- We hold our town for neither, yet for both.
-
- Enter the two KINGS, with their powers, at several doors
-
- KING JOHN. France, hast thou yet more blood to cast away?
- Say, shall the current of our right run on?
- Whose passage, vex'd with thy impediment,
- Shall leave his native channel and o'erswell
- With course disturb'd even thy confining shores,
- Unless thou let his silver water keep
- A peaceful progress to the ocean.
- KING PHILIP. England, thou hast not sav'd one drop of blood
- In this hot trial more than we of France;
- Rather, lost more. And by this hand I swear,
- That sways the earth this climate overlooks,
- Before we will lay down our just-borne arms,
- We'll put thee down, 'gainst whom these arms we bear,
- Or add a royal number to the dead,
- Gracing the scroll that tells of this war's loss
- With slaughter coupled to the name of kings.
- BASTARD. Ha, majesty! how high thy glory tow'rs
- When the rich blood of kings is set on fire!
- O, now doth Death line his dead chaps with steel;
- The swords of soldiers are his teeth, his fangs;
- And now he feasts, mousing the flesh of men,
- In undetermin'd differences of kings.
- Why stand these royal fronts amazed thus?
- Cry 'havoc!' kings; back to the stained field,
- You equal potents, fiery kindled spirits!
- Then let confusion of one part confirm
- The other's peace. Till then, blows, blood, and death!
- KING JOHN. Whose party do the townsmen yet admit?
- KING PHILIP. Speak, citizens, for England; who's your king?
- CITIZEN. The King of England, when we know the King.
- KING PHILIP. Know him in us that here hold up his right.
- KING JOHN. In us that are our own great deputy
- And bear possession of our person here,
- Lord of our presence, Angiers, and of you.
- CITIZEN. A greater pow'r than we denies all this;
- And till it be undoubted, we do lock
- Our former scruple in our strong-barr'd gates;
- King'd of our fears, until our fears, resolv'd,
- Be by some certain king purg'd and depos'd.
- BASTARD. By heaven, these scroyles of Angiers flout you, kings,
- And stand securely on their battlements
- As in a theatre, whence they gape and point
- At your industrious scenes and acts of death.
- Your royal presences be rul'd by me:
- Do like the mutines of Jerusalem,
- Be friends awhile, and both conjointly bend
- Your sharpest deeds of malice on this town.
- By east and west let France and England mount
- Their battering cannon, charged to the mouths,
- Till their soul-fearing clamours have brawl'd down
- The flinty ribs of this contemptuous city.
- I'd play incessantly upon these jades,
- Even till unfenced desolation
- Leave them as naked as the vulgar air.
- That done, dissever your united strengths
- And part your mingled colours once again,
- Turn face to face and bloody point to point;
- Then in a moment Fortune shall cull forth
- Out of one side her happy minion,
- To whom in favour she shall give the day,
- And kiss him with a glorious victory.
- How like you this wild counsel, mighty states?
- Smacks it not something of the policy?
- KING JOHN. Now, by the sky that hangs above our heads,
- I like it well. France, shall we knit our pow'rs
- And lay this Angiers even with the ground;
- Then after fight who shall be king of it?
- BASTARD. An if thou hast the mettle of a king,
- Being wrong'd as we are by this peevish town,
- Turn thou the mouth of thy artillery,
- As we will ours, against these saucy walls;
- And when that we have dash'd them to the ground,
- Why then defy each other, and pell-mell
- Make work upon ourselves, for heaven or hell.
- KING PHILIP. Let it be so. Say, where will you assault?
- KING JOHN. We from the west will send destruction
- Into this city's bosom.
- AUSTRIA. I from the north.
- KING PHILIP. Our thunder from the south
- Shall rain their drift of bullets on this town.
- BASTARD. [Aside] O prudent discipline! From north to south,
- Austria and France shoot in each other's mouth.
- I'll stir them to it.-Come, away, away!
- CITIZEN. Hear us, great kings: vouchsafe awhile to stay,
- And I shall show you peace and fair-fac'd league;
- Win you this city without stroke or wound;
- Rescue those breathing lives to die in beds
- That here come sacrifices for the field.
- Persever not, but hear me, mighty kings.
- KING JOHN. Speak on with favour; we are bent to hear.
- CITIZEN. That daughter there of Spain, the Lady Blanch,
- Is niece to England; look upon the years
- Of Lewis the Dauphin and that lovely maid.
- If lusty love should go in quest of beauty,
- Where should he find it fairer than in Blanch?
- If zealous love should go in search of virtue,
- Where should he find it purer than in Blanch?
- If love ambitious sought a match of birth,
- Whose veins bound richer blood than Lady Blanch?
- Such as she is, in beauty, virtue, birth,
- Is the young Dauphin every way complete-
- If not complete of, say he is not she;
- And she again wants nothing, to name want,
- If want it be not that she is not he.
- He is the half part of a blessed man,
- Left to be finished by such as she;
- And she a fair divided excellence,
- Whose fulness of perfection lies in him.
- O, two such silver currents, when they join,
- Do glorify the banks that bound them in;
- And two such shores to two such streams made one,
- Two such controlling bounds, shall you be, Kings,
- To these two princes, if you marry them.
- This union shall do more than battery can
- To our fast-closed gates; for at this match
- With swifter spleen than powder can enforce,
- The mouth of passage shall we fling wide ope
- And give you entrance; but without this match,
- The sea enraged is not half so deaf,
- Lions more confident, mountains and rocks
- More free from motion-no, not Death himself
- In mortal fury half so peremptory
- As we to keep this city.
- BASTARD. Here's a stay
- That shakes the rotten carcass of old Death
- Out of his rags! Here's a large mouth, indeed,
- That spits forth death and mountains, rocks and seas;
- Talks as familiarly of roaring lions
- As maids of thirteen do of puppy-dogs!
- What cannoneer begot this lusty blood?
- He speaks plain cannon-fire, and smoke and bounce;
- He gives the bastinado with his tongue;
- Our ears are cudgell'd; not a word of his
- But buffets better than a fist of France.
- Zounds! I was never so bethump'd with words
- Since I first call'd my brother's father dad.
- ELINOR. Son, list to this conjunction, make this match;
- Give with our niece a dowry large enough;
- For by this knot thou shalt so surely tie
- Thy now unsur'd assurance to the crown
- That yon green boy shall have no sun to ripe
- The bloom that promiseth a mighty fruit.
- I see a yielding in the looks of France;
- Mark how they whisper. Urge them while their souls
- Are capable of this ambition,
- Lest zeal, now melted by the windy breath
- Of soft petitions, pity, and remorse,
- Cool and congeal again to what it was.
- CITIZEN. Why answer not the double majesties
- This friendly treaty of our threat'ned town?
- KING PHILIP. Speak England first, that hath been forward first
- To speak unto this city: what say you?
- KING JOHN. If that the Dauphin there, thy princely son,
- Can in this book of beauty read 'I love,'
- Her dowry shall weigh equal with a queen;
- For Anjou, and fair Touraine, Maine, Poictiers,
- And all that we upon this side the sea-
- Except this city now by us besieg'd-
- Find liable to our crown and dignity,
- Shall gild her bridal bed, and make her rich
- In titles, honours, and promotions,
- As she in beauty, education, blood,
- Holds hand with any princess of the world.
- KING PHILIP. What say'st thou, boy? Look in the lady's face.
- LEWIS. I do, my lord, and in her eye I find
- A wonder, or a wondrous miracle,
- The shadow of myself form'd in her eye;
- Which, being but the shadow of your son,
- Becomes a sun, and makes your son a shadow.
- I do protest I never lov'd myself
- Till now infixed I beheld myself
- Drawn in the flattering table of her eye.
- [Whispers with BLANCH]
- BASTARD. [Aside] Drawn in the flattering table of her eye,
- Hang'd in the frowning wrinkle of her brow,
- And quarter'd in her heart-he doth espy
- Himself love's traitor. This is pity now,
- That hang'd and drawn and quarter'd there should be
- In such a love so vile a lout as he.
- BLANCH. My uncle's will in this respect is mine.
- If he see aught in you that makes him like,
- That anything he sees which moves his liking
- I can with ease translate it to my will;
- Or if you will, to speak more properly,
- I will enforce it eas'ly to my love.
- Further I will not flatter you, my lord,
- That all I see in you is worthy love,
- Than this: that nothing do I see in you-
- Though churlish thoughts themselves should be your judge-
- That I can find should merit any hate.
- KING JOHN. What say these young ones? What say you, my niece?
- BLANCH. That she is bound in honour still to do
- What you in wisdom still vouchsafe to say.
- KING JOHN. Speak then, Prince Dauphin; can you love this lady?
- LEWIS. Nay, ask me if I can refrain from love;
- For I do love her most unfeignedly.
- KING JOHN. Then do I give Volquessen, Touraine, Maine,
- Poictiers, and Anjou, these five provinces,
- With her to thee; and this addition more,
- Full thirty thousand marks of English coin.
- Philip of France, if thou be pleas'd withal,
- Command thy son and daughter to join hands.
- KING PHILIP. It likes us well; young princes, close your hands.
- AUSTRIA. And your lips too; for I am well assur'd
- That I did so when I was first assur'd.
- KING PHILIP. Now, citizens of Angiers, ope your gates,
- Let in that amity which you have made;
- For at Saint Mary's chapel presently
- The rites of marriage shall be solemniz'd.
- Is not the Lady Constance in this troop?
- I know she is not; for this match made up
- Her presence would have interrupted much.
- Where is she and her son? Tell me, who knows.
- LEWIS. She is sad and passionate at your Highness' tent.
- KING PHILIP. And, by my faith, this league that we have made
- Will give her sadness very little cure.
- Brother of England, how may we content
- This widow lady? In her right we came;
- Which we, God knows, have turn'd another way,
- To our own vantage.
- KING JOHN. We will heal up all,
- For we'll create young Arthur Duke of Britaine,
- And Earl of Richmond; and this rich fair town
- We make him lord of. Call the Lady Constance;
- Some speedy messenger bid her repair
- To our solemnity. I trust we shall,
- If not fill up the measure of her will,
- Yet in some measure satisfy her so
- That we shall stop her exclamation.
- Go we as well as haste will suffer us
- To this unlook'd-for, unprepared pomp.
- Exeunt all but the BASTARD
- BASTARD. Mad world! mad kings! mad composition!
- John, to stop Arthur's tide in the whole,
- Hath willingly departed with a part;
- And France, whose armour conscience buckled on,
- Whom zeal and charity brought to the field
- As God's own soldier, rounded in the ear
- With that same purpose-changer, that sly devil,
- That broker that still breaks the pate of faith,
- That daily break-vow, he that wins of all,
- Of kings, of beggars, old men, young men, maids,
- Who having no external thing to lose
- But the word 'maid,' cheats the poor maid of that;
- That smooth-fac'd gentleman, tickling commodity,
- Commodity, the bias of the world-
- The world, who of itself is peised well,
- Made to run even upon even ground,
- Till this advantage, this vile-drawing bias,
- This sway of motion, this commodity,
- Makes it take head from all indifferency,
- From all direction, purpose, course, intent-
- And this same bias, this commodity,
- This bawd, this broker, this all-changing word,
- Clapp'd on the outward eye of fickle France,
- Hath drawn him from his own determin'd aid,
- From a resolv'd and honourable war,
- To a most base and vile-concluded peace.
- And why rail I on this commodity?
- But for because he hath not woo'd me yet;
- Not that I have the power to clutch my hand
- When his fair angels would salute my palm,
- But for my hand, as unattempted yet,
- Like a poor beggar raileth on the rich.
- Well, whiles I am a beggar, I will rail
- And say there is no sin but to be rich;
- And being rich, my virtue then shall be
- To say there is no vice but beggary.
- Since kings break faith upon commodity,
- Gain, be my lord, for I will worship thee. Exit
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT III. SCENE 1.
-
-France. The FRENCH KING'S camp
-
-Enter CONSTANCE, ARTHUR, and SALISBURY
-
- CONSTANCE. Gone to be married! Gone to swear a peace!
- False blood to false blood join'd! Gone to be friends!
- Shall Lewis have Blanch, and Blanch those provinces?
- It is not so; thou hast misspoke, misheard;
- Be well advis'd, tell o'er thy tale again.
- It cannot be; thou dost but say 'tis so;
- I trust I may not trust thee, for thy word
- Is but the vain breath of a common man:
- Believe me I do not believe thee, man;
- I have a king's oath to the contrary.
- Thou shalt be punish'd for thus frighting me,
- For I am sick and capable of fears,
- Oppress'd with wrongs, and therefore full of fears;
- A widow, husbandless, subject to fears;
- A woman, naturally born to fears;
- And though thou now confess thou didst but jest,
- With my vex'd spirits I cannot take a truce,
- But they will quake and tremble all this day.
- What dost thou mean by shaking of thy head?
- Why dost thou look so sadly on my son?
- What means that hand upon that breast of thine?
- Why holds thine eye that lamentable rheum,
- Like a proud river peering o'er his bounds?
- Be these sad signs confirmers of thy words?
- Then speak again-not all thy former tale,
- But this one word, whether thy tale be true.
- SALISBURY. As true as I believe you think them false
- That give you cause to prove my saying true.
- CONSTANCE. O, if thou teach me to believe this sorrow,
- Teach thou this sorrow how to make me die;
- And let belief and life encounter so
- As doth the fury of two desperate men
- Which in the very meeting fall and die!
- Lewis marry Blanch! O boy, then where art thou?
- France friend with England; what becomes of me?
- Fellow, be gone: I cannot brook thy sight;
- This news hath made thee a most ugly man.
- SALISBURY. What other harm have I, good lady, done
- But spoke the harm that is by others done?
- CONSTANCE. Which harm within itself so heinous is
- As it makes harmful all that speak of it.
- ARTHUR. I do beseech you, madam, be content.
- CONSTANCE. If thou that bid'st me be content wert grim,
- Ugly, and sland'rous to thy mother's womb,
- Full of unpleasing blots and sightless stains,
- Lame, foolish, crooked, swart, prodigious,
- Patch'd with foul moles and eye-offending marks,
- I would not care, I then would be content;
- For then I should not love thee; no, nor thou
- Become thy great birth, nor deserve a crown.
- But thou art fair, and at thy birth, dear boy,
- Nature and Fortune join'd to make thee great:
- Of Nature's gifts thou mayst with lilies boast,
- And with the half-blown rose; but Fortune, O!
- She is corrupted, chang'd, and won from thee;
- Sh' adulterates hourly with thine uncle John,
- And with her golden hand hath pluck'd on France
- To tread down fair respect of sovereignty,
- And made his majesty the bawd to theirs.
- France is a bawd to Fortune and King John-
- That strumpet Fortune, that usurping John!
- Tell me, thou fellow, is not France forsworn?
- Envenom him with words, or get thee gone
- And leave those woes alone which I alone
- Am bound to under-bear.
- SALISBURY. Pardon me, madam,
- I may not go without you to the kings.
- CONSTANCE. Thou mayst, thou shalt; I will not go with thee;
- I will instruct my sorrows to be proud,
- For grief is proud, and makes his owner stoop.
- To me, and to the state of my great grief,
- Let kings assemble; for my grief's so great
- That no supporter but the huge firm earth
- Can hold it up. [Seats herself on the ground]
- Here I and sorrows sit;
- Here is my throne, bid kings come bow to it.
-
- Enter KING JOHN, KING PHILIP, LEWIS, BLANCH,
- ELINOR, the BASTARD, AUSTRIA, and attendants
-
- KING PHILIP. 'Tis true, fair daughter, and this blessed day
- Ever in France shall be kept festival.
- To solemnize this day the glorious sun
- Stays in his course and plays the alchemist,
- Turning with splendour of his precious eye
- The meagre cloddy earth to glittering gold.
- The yearly course that brings this day about
- Shall never see it but a holiday.
- CONSTANCE. [Rising] A wicked day, and not a holy day!
- What hath this day deserv'd? what hath it done
- That it in golden letters should be set
- Among the high tides in the calendar?
- Nay, rather turn this day out of the week,
- This day of shame, oppression, perjury;
- Or, if it must stand still, let wives with child
- Pray that their burdens may not fall this day,
- Lest that their hopes prodigiously be cross'd;
- But on this day let seamen fear no wreck;
- No bargains break that are not this day made;
- This day, all things begun come to ill end,
- Yea, faith itself to hollow falsehood change!
- KING PHILIP. By heaven, lady, you shall have no cause
- To curse the fair proceedings of this day.
- Have I not pawn'd to you my majesty?
- CONSTANCE. You have beguil'd me with a counterfeit
- Resembling majesty, which, being touch'd and tried,
- Proves valueless; you are forsworn, forsworn;
- You came in arms to spill mine enemies' blood,
- But now in arms you strengthen it with yours.
- The grappling vigour and rough frown of war
- Is cold in amity and painted peace,
- And our oppression hath made up this league.
- Arm, arm, you heavens, against these perjur'd kings!
- A widow cries: Be husband to me, heavens!
- Let not the hours of this ungodly day
- Wear out the day in peace; but, ere sunset,
- Set armed discord 'twixt these perjur'd kings!
- Hear me, O, hear me!
- AUSTRIA. Lady Constance, peace!
- CONSTANCE. War! war! no peace! Peace is to me a war.
- O Lymoges! O Austria! thou dost shame
- That bloody spoil. Thou slave, thou wretch, thou coward!
- Thou little valiant, great in villainy!
- Thou ever strong upon the stronger side!
- Thou Fortune's champion that dost never fight
- But when her humorous ladyship is by
- To teach thee safety! Thou art perjur'd too,
- And sooth'st up greatness. What a fool art thou,
- A ramping fool, to brag and stamp and swear
- Upon my party! Thou cold-blooded slave,
- Hast thou not spoke like thunder on my side,
- Been sworn my soldier, bidding me depend
- Upon thy stars, thy fortune, and thy strength,
- And dost thou now fall over to my foes?
- Thou wear a lion's hide! Doff it for shame,
- And hang a calf's-skin on those recreant limbs.
- AUSTRIA. O that a man should speak those words to me!
- BASTARD. And hang a calf's-skin on those recreant limbs.
- AUSTRIA. Thou dar'st not say so, villain, for thy life.
- BASTARD. And hang a calf's-skin on those recreant limbs.
- KING JOHN. We like not this: thou dost forget thyself.
-
- Enter PANDULPH
-
- KING PHILIP. Here comes the holy legate of the Pope.
- PANDULPH. Hail, you anointed deputies of heaven!
- To thee, King John, my holy errand is.
- I Pandulph, of fair Milan cardinal,
- And from Pope Innocent the legate here,
- Do in his name religiously demand
- Why thou against the Church, our holy mother,
- So wilfully dost spurn; and force perforce
- Keep Stephen Langton, chosen Archbishop
- Of Canterbury, from that holy see?
- This, in our foresaid holy father's name,
- Pope Innocent, I do demand of thee.
- KING JOHN. What earthly name to interrogatories
- Can task the free breath of a sacred king?
- Thou canst not, Cardinal, devise a name
- So slight, unworthy, and ridiculous,
- To charge me to an answer, as the Pope.
- Tell him this tale, and from the mouth of England
- Add thus much more, that no Italian priest
- Shall tithe or toll in our dominions;
- But as we under heaven are supreme head,
- So, under Him that great supremacy,
- Where we do reign we will alone uphold,
- Without th' assistance of a mortal hand.
- So tell the Pope, all reverence set apart
- To him and his usurp'd authority.
- KING PHILIP. Brother of England, you blaspheme in this.
- KING JOHN. Though you and all the kings of Christendom
- Are led so grossly by this meddling priest,
- Dreading the curse that money may buy out,
- And by the merit of vile gold, dross, dust,
- Purchase corrupted pardon of a man,
- Who in that sale sells pardon from himself-
- Though you and all the rest, so grossly led,
- This juggling witchcraft with revenue cherish;
- Yet I alone, alone do me oppose
- Against the Pope, and count his friends my foes.
- PANDULPH. Then by the lawful power that I have
- Thou shalt stand curs'd and excommunicate;
- And blessed shall he be that doth revolt
- From his allegiance to an heretic;
- And meritorious shall that hand be call'd,
- Canonized, and worshipp'd as a saint,
- That takes away by any secret course
- Thy hateful life.
- CONSTANCE. O, lawful let it be
- That I have room with Rome to curse awhile!
- Good father Cardinal, cry thou 'amen'
- To my keen curses; for without my wrong
- There is no tongue hath power to curse him right.
- PANDULPH. There's law and warrant, lady, for my curse.
- CONSTANCE. And for mine too; when law can do no right,
- Let it be lawful that law bar no wrong;
- Law cannot give my child his kingdom here,
- For he that holds his kingdom holds the law;
- Therefore, since law itself is perfect wrong,
- How can the law forbid my tongue to curse?
- PANDULPH. Philip of France, on peril of a curse,
- Let go the hand of that arch-heretic,
- And raise the power of France upon his head,
- Unless he do submit himself to Rome.
- ELINOR. Look'st thou pale, France? Do not let go thy hand.
- CONSTANCE. Look to that, devil, lest that France repent
- And by disjoining hands hell lose a soul.
- AUSTRIA. King Philip, listen to the Cardinal.
- BASTARD. And hang a calf's-skin on his recreant limbs.
- AUSTRIA. Well, ruffian, I must pocket up these wrongs,
- Because-
- BASTARD. Your breeches best may carry them.
- KING JOHN. Philip, what say'st thou to the Cardinal?
- CONSTANCE. What should he say, but as the Cardinal?
- LEWIS. Bethink you, father; for the difference
- Is purchase of a heavy curse from Rome
- Or the light loss of England for a friend.
- Forgo the easier.
- BLANCH. That's the curse of Rome.
- CONSTANCE. O Lewis, stand fast! The devil tempts thee here
- In likeness of a new untrimmed bride.
- BLANCH. The Lady Constance speaks not from her faith,
- But from her need.
- CONSTANCE. O, if thou grant my need,
- Which only lives but by the death of faith,
- That need must needs infer this principle-
- That faith would live again by death of need.
- O then, tread down my need, and faith mounts up:
- Keep my need up, and faith is trodden down!
- KING JOHN. The King is mov'd, and answers not to this.
- CONSTANCE. O be remov'd from him, and answer well!
- AUSTRIA. Do so, King Philip; hang no more in doubt.
- BASTARD. Hang nothing but a calf's-skin, most sweet lout.
- KING PHILIP. I am perplex'd and know not what to say.
- PANDULPH. What canst thou say but will perplex thee more,
- If thou stand excommunicate and curs'd?
- KING PHILIP. Good reverend father, make my person yours,
- And tell me how you would bestow yourself.
- This royal hand and mine are newly knit,
- And the conjunction of our inward souls
- Married in league, coupled and link'd together
- With all religious strength of sacred vows;
- The latest breath that gave the sound of words
- Was deep-sworn faith, peace, amity, true love,
- Between our kingdoms and our royal selves;
- And even before this truce, but new before,
- No longer than we well could wash our hands,
- To clap this royal bargain up of peace,
- Heaven knows, they were besmear'd and overstain'd
- With slaughter's pencil, where revenge did paint
- The fearful difference of incensed kings.
- And shall these hands, so lately purg'd of blood,
- So newly join'd in love, so strong in both,
- Unyoke this seizure and this kind regreet?
- Play fast and loose with faith? so jest with heaven,
- Make such unconstant children of ourselves,
- As now again to snatch our palm from palm,
- Unswear faith sworn, and on the marriage-bed
- Of smiling peace to march a bloody host,
- And make a riot on the gentle brow
- Of true sincerity? O, holy sir,
- My reverend father, let it not be so!
- Out of your grace, devise, ordain, impose,
- Some gentle order; and then we shall be blest
- To do your pleasure, and continue friends.
- PANDULPH. All form is formless, order orderless,
- Save what is opposite to England's love.
- Therefore, to arms! be champion of our church,
- Or let the church, our mother, breathe her curse-
- A mother's curse-on her revolting son.
- France, thou mayst hold a serpent by the tongue,
- A chafed lion by the mortal paw,
- A fasting tiger safer by the tooth,
- Than keep in peace that hand which thou dost hold.
- KING PHILIP. I may disjoin my hand, but not my faith.
- PANDULPH. So mak'st thou faith an enemy to faith;
- And like. a civil war set'st oath to oath.
- Thy tongue against thy tongue. O, let thy vow
- First made to heaven, first be to heaven perform'd,
- That is, to be the champion of our Church.
- What since thou swor'st is sworn against thyself
- And may not be performed by thyself,
- For that which thou hast sworn to do amiss
- Is not amiss when it is truly done;
- And being not done, where doing tends to ill,
- The truth is then most done not doing it;
- The better act of purposes mistook
- Is to mistake again; though indirect,
- Yet indirection thereby grows direct,
- And falsehood cures, as fire cools fire
- Within the scorched veins of one new-burn'd.
- It is religion that doth make vows kept;
- But thou hast sworn against religion
- By what thou swear'st against the thing thou swear'st,
- And mak'st an oath the surety for thy truth
- Against an oath; the truth thou art unsure
- To swear swears only not to be forsworn;
- Else what a mockery should it be to swear!
- But thou dost swear only to be forsworn;
- And most forsworn to keep what thou dost swear.
- Therefore thy later vows against thy first
- Is in thyself rebellion to thyself;
- And better conquest never canst thou make
- Than arm thy constant and thy nobler parts
- Against these giddy loose suggestions;
- Upon which better part our pray'rs come in,
- If thou vouchsafe them. But if not, then know
- The peril of our curses fight on thee
- So heavy as thou shalt not shake them off,
- But in despair die under the black weight.
- AUSTRIA. Rebellion, flat rebellion!
- BASTARD. Will't not be?
- Will not a calf's-skin stop that mouth of thine?
- LEWIS. Father, to arms!
- BLANCH. Upon thy wedding-day?
- Against the blood that thou hast married?
- What, shall our feast be kept with slaughtered men?
- Shall braying trumpets and loud churlish drums,
- Clamours of hell, be measures to our pomp?
- O husband, hear me! ay, alack, how new
- Is 'husband' in my mouth! even for that name,
- Which till this time my tongue did ne'er pronounce,
- Upon my knee I beg, go not to arms
- Against mine uncle.
- CONSTANCE. O, upon my knee,
- Made hard with kneeling, I do pray to thee,
- Thou virtuous Dauphin, alter not the doom
- Forethought by heaven!
- BLANCH. Now shall I see thy love. What motive may
- Be stronger with thee than the name of wife?
- CONSTANCE. That which upholdeth him that thee upholds,
- His honour. O, thine honour, Lewis, thine honour!
- LEWIS. I muse your Majesty doth seem so cold,
- When such profound respects do pull you on.
- PANDULPH. I will denounce a curse upon his head.
- KING PHILIP. Thou shalt not need. England, I will fall from thee.
- CONSTANCE. O fair return of banish'd majesty!
- ELINOR. O foul revolt of French inconstancy!
- KING JOHN. France, thou shalt rue this hour within this hour.
- BASTARD. Old Time the clock-setter, that bald sexton Time,
- Is it as he will? Well then, France shall rue.
- BLANCH. The sun's o'ercast with blood. Fair day, adieu!
- Which is the side that I must go withal?
- I am with both: each army hath a hand;
- And in their rage, I having hold of both,
- They whirl asunder and dismember me.
- Husband, I cannot pray that thou mayst win;
- Uncle, I needs must pray that thou mayst lose;
- Father, I may not wish the fortune thine;
- Grandam, I will not wish thy wishes thrive.
- Whoever wins, on that side shall I lose:
- Assured loss before the match be play'd.
- LEWIS. Lady, with me, with me thy fortune lies.
- BLANCH. There where my fortune lives, there my life dies.
- KING JOHN. Cousin, go draw our puissance together.
- Exit BASTARD
- France, I am burn'd up with inflaming wrath,
- A rage whose heat hath this condition
- That nothing can allay, nothing but blood,
- The blood, and dearest-valu'd blood, of France.
- KING PHILIP. Thy rage shall burn thee up, and thou shalt turn
- To ashes, ere our blood shall quench that fire.
- Look to thyself, thou art in jeopardy.
- KING JOHN. No more than he that threats. To arms let's hie!
- Exeunt severally
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 2.
-
-France. Plains near Angiers
-
-Alarums, excursions. Enter the BASTARD with AUSTRIA'S head
-
- BASTARD. Now, by my life, this day grows wondrous hot;
- Some airy devil hovers in the sky
- And pours down mischief. Austria's head lie there,
- While Philip breathes.
-
- Enter KING JOHN, ARTHUR, and HUBERT
-
- KING JOHN. Hubert, keep this boy. Philip, make up:
- My mother is assailed in our tent,
- And ta'en, I fear.
- BASTARD. My lord, I rescued her;
- Her Highness is in safety, fear you not;
- But on, my liege, for very little pains
- Will bring this labour to an happy end. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 3.
-
-France. Plains near Angiers
-
-Alarums, excursions, retreat. Enter KING JOHN, ELINOR, ARTHUR,
-the BASTARD, HUBERT, and LORDS
-
- KING JOHN. [To ELINOR] So shall it be; your Grace shall stay
- behind,
- So strongly guarded. [To ARTHUR] Cousin, look not sad;
- Thy grandam loves thee, and thy uncle will
- As dear be to thee as thy father was.
- ARTHUR. O, this will make my mother die with grief!
- KING JOHN. [To the BASTARD] Cousin, away for England! haste
- before,
- And, ere our coming, see thou shake the bags
- Of hoarding abbots; imprisoned angels
- Set at liberty; the fat ribs of peace
- Must by the hungry now be fed upon.
- Use our commission in his utmost force.
- BASTARD. Bell, book, and candle, shall not drive me back,
- When gold and silver becks me to come on.
- I leave your Highness. Grandam, I will pray,
- If ever I remember to be holy,
- For your fair safety. So, I kiss your hand.
- ELINOR. Farewell, gentle cousin.
- KING JOHN. Coz, farewell.
- Exit BASTARD
- ELINOR. Come hither, little kinsman; hark, a word.
- KING JOHN. Come hither, Hubert. O my gentle Hubert,
- We owe thee much! Within this wall of flesh
- There is a soul counts thee her creditor,
- And with advantage means to pay thy love;
- And, my good friend, thy voluntary oath
- Lives in this bosom, dearly cherished.
- Give me thy hand. I had a thing to say-
- But I will fit it with some better time.
- By heaven, Hubert, I am almost asham'd
- To say what good respect I have of thee.
- HUBERT. I am much bounden to your Majesty.
- KING JOHN. Good friend, thou hast no cause to say so yet,
- But thou shalt have; and creep time ne'er so slow,
- Yet it shall come for me to do thee good.
- I had a thing to say-but let it go:
- The sun is in the heaven, and the proud day,
- Attended with the pleasures of the world,
- Is all too wanton and too full of gawds
- To give me audience. If the midnight bell
- Did with his iron tongue and brazen mouth
- Sound on into the drowsy race of night;
- If this same were a churchyard where we stand,
- And thou possessed with a thousand wrongs;
- Or if that surly spirit, melancholy,
- Had bak'd thy blood and made it heavy-thick,
- Which else runs tickling up and down the veins,
- Making that idiot, laughter, keep men's eyes
- And strain their cheeks to idle merriment,
- A passion hateful to my purposes;
- Or if that thou couldst see me without eyes,
- Hear me without thine cars, and make reply
- Without a tongue, using conceit alone,
- Without eyes, ears, and harmful sound of words-
- Then, in despite of brooded watchful day,
- I would into thy bosom pour my thoughts.
- But, ah, I will not! Yet I love thee well;
- And, by my troth, I think thou lov'st me well.
- HUBERT. So well that what you bid me undertake,
- Though that my death were adjunct to my act,
- By heaven, I would do it.
- KING JOHN. Do not I know thou wouldst?
- Good Hubert, Hubert, Hubert, throw thine eye
- On yon young boy. I'll tell thee what, my friend,
- He is a very serpent in my way;
- And wheresoe'er this foot of mine doth tread,
- He lies before me. Dost thou understand me?
- Thou art his keeper.
- HUBERT. And I'll keep him so
- That he shall not offend your Majesty.
- KING JOHN. Death.
- HUBERT. My lord?
- KING JOHN. A grave.
- HUBERT. He shall not live.
- KING JOHN. Enough!
- I could be merry now. Hubert, I love thee.
- Well, I'll not say what I intend for thee.
- Remember. Madam, fare you well;
- I'll send those powers o'er to your Majesty.
- ELINOR. My blessing go with thee!
- KING JOHN. [To ARTHUR] For England, cousin, go;
- Hubert shall be your man, attend on you
- With all true duty. On toward Calais, ho! Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 4.
-
-France. The FRENCH KING's camp
-
-Enter KING PHILIP, LEWIS, PANDULPH, and attendants
-
- KING PHILIP. So by a roaring tempest on the flood
- A whole armado of convicted sail
- Is scattered and disjoin'd from fellowship.
- PANDULPH. Courage and comfort! All shall yet go well.
- KING PHILIP. What can go well, when we have run so ill.
- Are we not beaten? Is not Angiers lost?
- Arthur ta'en prisoner? Divers dear friends slain?
- And bloody England into England gone,
- O'erbearing interruption, spite of France?
- LEWIS. he hath won, that hath he fortified;
- So hot a speed with such advice dispos'd,
- Such temperate order in so fierce a cause,
- Doth want example; who hath read or heard
- Of any kindred action like to this?
- KING PHILIP. Well could I bear that England had this praise,
- So we could find some pattern of our shame.
-
- Enter CONSTANCE
-
- Look who comes here! a grave unto a soul;
- Holding th' eternal spirit, against her will,
- In the vile prison of afflicted breath.
- I prithee, lady, go away with me.
- CONSTANCE. Lo now! now see the issue of your peace!
- KING PHILIP. Patience, good lady! Comfort, gentle Constance!
- CONSTANCE. No, I defy all counsel, all redress,
- But that which ends all counsel, true redress-
- Death, death; O amiable lovely death!
- Thou odoriferous stench! sound rottenness!
- Arise forth from the couch of lasting night,
- Thou hate and terror to prosperity,
- And I will kiss thy detestable bones,
- And put my eyeballs in thy vaulty brows,
- And ring these fingers with thy household worms,
- And stop this gap of breath with fulsome dust,
- And be a carrion monster like thyself.
- Come, grin on me, and I will think thou smil'st,
- And buss thee as thy wife. Misery's love,
- O, come to me!
- KING PHILIP. O fair affliction, peace!
- CONSTANCE. No, no, I will not, having breath to cry.
- O that my tongue were in the thunder's mouth!
- Then with a passion would I shake the world,
- And rouse from sleep that fell anatomy
- Which cannot hear a lady's feeble voice,
- Which scorns a modern invocation.
- PANDULPH. Lady, you utter madness and not sorrow.
- CONSTANCE. Thou art not holy to belie me so.
- I am not mad: this hair I tear is mine;
- My name is Constance; I was Geffrey's wife;
- Young Arthur is my son, and he is lost.
- I am not mad-I would to heaven I were!
- For then 'tis like I should forget myself.
- O, if I could, what grief should I forget!
- Preach some philosophy to make me mad,
- And thou shalt be canoniz'd, Cardinal;
- For, being not mad, but sensible of grief,
- My reasonable part produces reason
- How I may be deliver'd of these woes,
- And teaches me to kill or hang myself.
- If I were mad I should forget my son,
- Or madly think a babe of clouts were he.
- I am not mad; too well, too well I feel
- The different plague of each calamity.
- KING PHILIP. Bind up those tresses. O, what love I note
- In the fair multitude of those her hairs!
- Where but by a chance a silver drop hath fall'n,
- Even to that drop ten thousand wiry friends
- Do glue themselves in sociable grief,
- Like true, inseparable, faithful loves,
- Sticking together in calamity.
- CONSTANCE. To England, if you will.
- KING PHILIP. Bind up your hairs.
- CONSTANCE. Yes, that I will; and wherefore will I do it?
- I tore them from their bonds, and cried aloud
- 'O that these hands could so redeem my son,
- As they have given these hairs their liberty!'
- But now I envy at their liberty,
- And will again commit them to their bonds,
- Because my poor child is a prisoner.
- And, father Cardinal, I have heard you say
- That we shall see and know our friends in heaven;
- If that be true, I shall see my boy again;
- For since the birth of Cain, the first male child,
- To him that did but yesterday suspire,
- There was not such a gracious creature born.
- But now will canker sorrow eat my bud
- And chase the native beauty from his cheek,
- And he will look as hollow as a ghost,
- As dim and meagre as an ague's fit;
- And so he'll die; and, rising so again,
- When I shall meet him in the court of heaven
- I shall not know him. Therefore never, never
- Must I behold my pretty Arthur more.
- PANDULPH. You hold too heinous a respect of grief.
- CONSTANCE. He talks to me that never had a son.
- KING PHILIP. You are as fond of grief as of your child.
- CONSTANCE. Grief fills the room up of my absent child,
- Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me,
- Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words,
- Remembers me of all his gracious parts,
- Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form;
- Then have I reason to be fond of grief.
- Fare you well; had you such a loss as I,
- I could give better comfort than you do.
- I will not keep this form upon my head,
- [Tearing her hair]
- When there is such disorder in my wit.
- O Lord! my boy, my Arthur, my fair son!
- My life, my joy, my food, my ail the world!
- My widow-comfort, and my sorrows' cure! Exit
- KING PHILIP. I fear some outrage, and I'll follow her. Exit
- LEWIS. There's nothing in this world can make me joy.
- Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale
- Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man;
- And bitter shame hath spoil'd the sweet world's taste,
- That it yields nought but shame and bitterness.
- PANDULPH. Before the curing of a strong disease,
- Even in the instant of repair and health,
- The fit is strongest; evils that take leave
- On their departure most of all show evil;
- What have you lost by losing of this day?
- LEWIS. All days of glory, joy, and happiness.
- PANDULPH. If you had won it, certainly you had.
- No, no; when Fortune means to men most good,
- She looks upon them with a threat'ning eye.
- 'Tis strange to think how much King John hath lost
- In this which he accounts so clearly won.
- Are not you griev'd that Arthur is his prisoner?
- LEWIS. As heartily as he is glad he hath him.
- PANDULPH. Your mind is all as youthful as your blood.
- Now hear me speak with a prophetic spirit;
- For even the breath of what I mean to speak
- Shall blow each dust, each straw, each little rub,
- Out of the path which shall directly lead
- Thy foot to England's throne. And therefore mark:
- John hath seiz'd Arthur; and it cannot be
- That, whiles warm life plays in that infant's veins,
- The misplac'd John should entertain an hour,
- One minute, nay, one quiet breath of rest.
- A sceptre snatch'd with an unruly hand
- Must be boisterously maintain'd as gain'd,
- And he that stands upon a slipp'ry place
- Makes nice of no vile hold to stay him up;
- That John may stand then, Arthur needs must fall;
- So be it, for it cannot be but so.
- LEWIS. But what shall I gain by young Arthur's fall?
- PANDULPH. You, in the right of Lady Blanch your wife,
- May then make all the claim that Arthur did.
- LEWIS. And lose it, life and all, as Arthur did.
- PANDULPH. How green you are and fresh in this old world!
- John lays you plots; the times conspire with you;
- For he that steeps his safety in true blood
- Shall find but bloody safety and untrue.
- This act, so evilly borne, shall cool the hearts
- Of all his people and freeze up their zeal,
- That none so small advantage shall step forth
- To check his reign but they will cherish it;
- No natural exhalation in the sky,
- No scope of nature, no distemper'd day,
- No common wind, no customed event,
- But they will pluck away his natural cause
- And call them meteors, prodigies, and signs,
- Abortives, presages, and tongues of heaven,
- Plainly denouncing vengeance upon John.
- LEWIS. May be he will not touch young Arthur's life,
- But hold himself safe in his prisonment.
- PANDULPH. O, Sir, when he shall hear of your approach,
- If that young Arthur be not gone already,
- Even at that news he dies; and then the hearts
- Of all his people shall revolt from him,
- And kiss the lips of unacquainted change,
- And pick strong matter of revolt and wrath
- Out of the bloody fingers' ends of john.
- Methinks I see this hurly all on foot;
- And, O, what better matter breeds for you
- Than I have nam'd! The bastard Faulconbridge
- Is now in England ransacking the Church,
- Offending charity; if but a dozen French
- Were there in arms, they would be as a can
- To train ten thousand English to their side;
- Or as a little snow, tumbled about,
- Anon becomes a mountain. O noble Dauphin,
- Go with me to the King. 'Tis wonderful
- What may be wrought out of their discontent,
- Now that their souls are topful of offence.
- For England go; I will whet on the King.
- LEWIS. Strong reasons makes strong actions. Let us go;
- If you say ay, the King will not say no. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT IV. SCENE 1.
-
-England. A castle
-
-Enter HUBERT and EXECUTIONERS
-
- HUBERT. Heat me these irons hot; and look thou stand
- Within the arras. When I strike my foot
- Upon the bosom of the ground, rush forth
- And bind the boy which you shall find with me
- Fast to the chair. Be heedful; hence, and watch.
- EXECUTIONER. I hope your warrant will bear out the deed.
- HUBERT. Uncleanly scruples! Fear not you. Look to't.
- Exeunt EXECUTIONERS
- Young lad, come forth; I have to say with you.
-
- Enter ARTHUR
-
- ARTHUR. Good morrow, Hubert.
- HUBERT. Good morrow, little Prince.
- ARTHUR. As little prince, having so great a tide
- To be more prince, as may be. You are sad.
- HUBERT. Indeed I have been merrier.
- ARTHUR. Mercy on me!
- Methinks no body should be sad but I;
- Yet, I remember, when I was in France,
- Young gentlemen would be as sad as night,
- Only for wantonness. By my christendom,
- So I were out of prison and kept sheep,
- I should be as merry as the day is long;
- And so I would be here but that I doubt
- My uncle practises more harm to me;
- He is afraid of me, and I of him.
- Is it my fault that I was Geffrey's son?
- No, indeed, ist not; and I would to heaven
- I were your son, so you would love me, Hubert.
- HUBERT. [Aside] If I talk to him, with his innocent prate
- He will awake my mercy, which lies dead;
- Therefore I will be sudden and dispatch.
- ARTHUR. Are you sick, Hubert? You look pale to-day;
- In sooth, I would you were a little sick,
- That I might sit all night and watch with you.
- I warrant I love you more than you do me.
- HUBERT. [Aside] His words do take possession of my bosom.-
- Read here, young Arthur. [Showing a paper]
- [Aside] How now, foolish rheum!
- Turning dispiteous torture out of door!
- I must be brief, lest resolution drop
- Out at mine eyes in tender womanish tears.-
- Can you not read it? Is it not fair writ?
- ARTHUR. Too fairly, Hubert, for so foul effect.
- Must you with hot irons burn out both mine eyes?
- HUBERT. Young boy, I must.
- ARTHUR. And will you?
- HUBERT. And I will.
- ARTHUR. Have you the heart? When your head did but ache,
- I knit my handkerchief about your brows-
- The best I had, a princess wrought it me-
- And I did never ask it you again;
- And with my hand at midnight held your head;
- And, like the watchful minutes to the hour,
- Still and anon cheer'd up the heavy time,
- Saying 'What lack you?' and 'Where lies your grief?'
- Or 'What good love may I perform for you?'
- Many a poor man's son would have lyen still,
- And ne'er have spoke a loving word to you;
- But you at your sick service had a prince.
- Nay, you may think my love was crafty love,
- And call it cunning. Do, an if you will.
- If heaven be pleas'd that you must use me ill,
- Why, then you must. Will you put out mine eyes,
- These eyes that never did nor never shall
- So much as frown on you?
- HUBERT. I have sworn to do it;
- And with hot irons must I burn them out.
- ARTHUR. Ah, none but in this iron age would do it!
- The iron of itself, though heat red-hot,
- Approaching near these eyes would drink my tears,
- And quench his fiery indignation
- Even in the matter of mine innocence;
- Nay, after that, consume away in rust
- But for containing fire to harm mine eye.
- Are you more stubborn-hard than hammer'd iron?
- An if an angel should have come to me
- And told me Hubert should put out mine eyes,
- I would not have believ'd him-no tongue but Hubert's.
- HUBERT. [Stamps] Come forth.
-
- Re-enter EXECUTIONERS, With cord, irons, etc.
-
- Do as I bid you do.
- ARTHUR. O, save me, Hubert, save me! My eyes are out
- Even with the fierce looks of these bloody men.
- HUBERT. Give me the iron, I say, and bind him here.
- ARTHUR. Alas, what need you be so boist'rous rough?
- I will not struggle, I will stand stone-still.
- For heaven sake, Hubert, let me not be bound!
- Nay, hear me, Hubert! Drive these men away,
- And I will sit as quiet as a lamb;
- I will not stir, nor wince, nor speak a word,
- Nor look upon the iron angrily;
- Thrust but these men away, and I'll forgive you,
- Whatever torment you do put me to.
- HUBERT. Go, stand within; let me alone with him.
- EXECUTIONER. I am best pleas'd to be from such a deed.
- Exeunt EXECUTIONERS
- ARTHUR. Alas, I then have chid away my friend!
- He hath a stern look but a gentle heart.
- Let him come back, that his compassion may
- Give life to yours.
- HUBERT. Come, boy, prepare yourself.
- ARTHUR. Is there no remedy?
- HUBERT. None, but to lose your eyes.
- ARTHUR. O heaven, that there were but a mote in yours,
- A grain, a dust, a gnat, a wandering hair,
- Any annoyance in that precious sense!
- Then, feeling what small things are boisterous there,
- Your vile intent must needs seem horrible.
- HUBERT. Is this your promise? Go to, hold your tongue.
- ARTHUR. Hubert, the utterance of a brace of tongues
- Must needs want pleading for a pair of eyes.
- Let me not hold my tongue, let me not, Hubert;
- Or, Hubert, if you will, cut out my tongue,
- So I may keep mine eyes. O, spare mine eyes,
- Though to no use but still to look on you!
- Lo, by my troth, the instrument is cold
- And would not harm me.
- HUBERT. I can heat it, boy.
- ARTHUR. No, in good sooth; the fire is dead with grief,
- Being create for comfort, to be us'd
- In undeserved extremes. See else yourself:
- There is no malice in this burning coal;
- The breath of heaven hath blown his spirit out,
- And strew'd repentant ashes on his head.
- HUBERT. But with my breath I can revive it, boy.
- ARTHUR. An if you do, you will but make it blush
- And glow with shame of your proceedings, Hubert.
- Nay, it perchance will sparkle in your eyes,
- And, like a dog that is compell'd to fight,
- Snatch at his master that doth tarre him on.
- All things that you should use to do me wrong
- Deny their office; only you do lack
- That mercy which fierce fire and iron extends,
- Creatures of note for mercy-lacking uses.
- HUBERT. Well, see to live; I will not touch thine eye
- For all the treasure that thine uncle owes.
- Yet I am sworn, and I did purpose, boy,
- With this same very iron to burn them out.
- ARTHUR. O, now you look like Hubert! All this while
- You were disguis'd.
- HUBERT. Peace; no more. Adieu.
- Your uncle must not know but you are dead:
- I'll fill these dogged spies with false reports;
- And, pretty child, sleep doubtless and secure
- That Hubert, for the wealth of all the world,
- Will not offend thee.
- ARTHUR. O heaven! I thank you, Hubert.
- HUBERT. Silence; no more. Go closely in with me.
- Much danger do I undergo for thee. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 2.
-
-England. KING JOHN'S palace
-
-Enter KING JOHN, PEMBROKE, SALISBURY, and other LORDS
-
- KING JOHN. Here once again we sit, once again crown'd,
- And look'd upon, I hope, with cheerful eyes.
- PEMBROKE. This once again, but that your Highness pleas'd,
- Was once superfluous: you were crown'd before,
- And that high royalty was ne'er pluck'd off,
- The faiths of men ne'er stained with revolt;
- Fresh expectation troubled not the land
- With any long'd-for change or better state.
- SALISBURY. Therefore, to be possess'd with double pomp,
- To guard a title that was rich before,
- To gild refined gold, to paint the lily,
- To throw a perfume on the violet,
- To smooth the ice, or add another hue
- Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light
- To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish,
- Is wasteful and ridiculous excess.
- PEMBROKE. But that your royal pleasure must be done,
- This act is as an ancient tale new told
- And, in the last repeating, troublesome,
- Being urged at a time unseasonable.
- SALISBURY. In this the antique and well-noted face
- Of plain old form is much disfigured;
- And like a shifted wind unto a sail
- It makes the course of thoughts to fetch about,
- Startles and frights consideration,
- Makes sound opinion sick, and truth suspected,
- For putting on so new a fashion'd robe.
- PEMBROKE. When workmen strive to do better than well,
- They do confound their skill in covetousness;
- And oftentimes excusing of a fault
- Doth make the fault the worse by th' excuse,
- As patches set upon a little breach
- Discredit more in hiding of the fault
- Than did the fault before it was so patch'd.
- SALISBURY. To this effect, before you were new-crown'd,
- We breath'd our counsel; but it pleas'd your Highness
- To overbear it; and we are all well pleas'd,
- Since all and every part of what we would
- Doth make a stand at what your Highness will.
- KING JOHN. Some reasons of this double coronation
- I have possess'd you with, and think them strong;
- And more, more strong, when lesser is my fear,
- I shall indue you with. Meantime but ask
- What you would have reform'd that is not well,
- And well shall you perceive how willingly
- I will both hear and grant you your requests.
- PEMBROKE. Then I, as one that am the tongue of these,
- To sound the purposes of all their hearts,
- Both for myself and them- but, chief of all,
- Your safety, for the which myself and them
- Bend their best studies, heartily request
- Th' enfranchisement of Arthur, whose restraint
- Doth move the murmuring lips of discontent
- To break into this dangerous argument:
- If what in rest you have in right you hold,
- Why then your fears-which, as they say, attend
- The steps of wrong-should move you to mew up
- Your tender kinsman, and to choke his days
- With barbarous ignorance, and deny his youth
- The rich advantage of good exercise?
- That the time's enemies may not have this
- To grace occasions, let it be our suit
- That you have bid us ask his liberty;
- Which for our goods we do no further ask
- Than whereupon our weal, on you depending,
- Counts it your weal he have his liberty.
- KING JOHN. Let it be so. I do commit his youth
- To your direction.
-
- Enter HUBERT
-
- [Aside] Hubert, what news with you?
- PEMBROKE. This is the man should do the bloody deed:
- He show'd his warrant to a friend of mine;
- The image of a wicked heinous fault
- Lives in his eye; that close aspect of his
- Doth show the mood of a much troubled breast,
- And I do fearfully believe 'tis done
- What we so fear'd he had a charge to do.
- SALISBURY. The colour of the King doth come and go
- Between his purpose and his conscience,
- Like heralds 'twixt two dreadful battles set.
- His passion is so ripe it needs must break.
- PEMBROKE. And when it breaks, I fear will issue thence
- The foul corruption of a sweet child's death.
- KING JOHN. We cannot hold mortality's strong hand.
- Good lords, although my will to give is living,
- The suit which you demand is gone and dead:
- He tells us Arthur is deceas'd to-night.
- SALISBURY. Indeed, we fear'd his sickness was past cure.
- PEMBROKE. Indeed, we heard how near his death he was,
- Before the child himself felt he was sick.
- This must be answer'd either here or hence.
- KING JOHN. Why do you bend such solemn brows on me?
- Think you I bear the shears of destiny?
- Have I commandment on the pulse of life?
- SALISBURY. It is apparent foul-play; and 'tis shame
- That greatness should so grossly offer it.
- So thrive it in your game! and so, farewell.
- PEMBROKE. Stay yet, Lord Salisbury, I'll go with thee
- And find th' inheritance of this poor child,
- His little kingdom of a forced grave.
- That blood which ow'd the breadth of all this isle
- Three foot of it doth hold-bad world the while!
- This must not be thus borne: this will break out
- To all our sorrows, and ere long I doubt. Exeunt LORDS
- KING JOHN. They burn in indignation. I repent.
- There is no sure foundation set on blood,
- No certain life achiev'd by others' death.
-
- Enter a MESSENGER
-
- A fearful eye thou hast; where is that blood
- That I have seen inhabit in those cheeks?
- So foul a sky clears not without a storm.
- Pour down thy weather-how goes all in France?
- MESSENGER. From France to England. Never such a pow'r
- For any foreign preparation
- Was levied in the body of a land.
- The copy of your speed is learn'd by them,
- For when you should be told they do prepare,
- The tidings comes that they are all arriv'd.
- KING JOHN. O, where hath our intelligence been drunk?
- Where hath it slept? Where is my mother's care,
- That such an army could be drawn in France,
- And she not hear of it?
- MESSENGER. My liege, her ear
- Is stopp'd with dust: the first of April died
- Your noble mother; and as I hear, my lord,
- The Lady Constance in a frenzy died
- Three days before; but this from rumour's tongue
- I idly heard-if true or false I know not.
- KING JOHN. Withhold thy speed, dreadful occasion!
- O, make a league with me, till I have pleas'd
- My discontented peers! What! mother dead!
- How wildly then walks my estate in France!
- Under whose conduct came those pow'rs of France
- That thou for truth giv'st out are landed here?
- MESSENGER. Under the Dauphin.
- KING JOHN. Thou hast made me giddy
- With these in tidings.
-
- Enter the BASTARD and PETER OF POMFRET
-
- Now! What says the world
- To your proceedings? Do not seek to stuff
- My head with more ill news, for it is fun.
- BASTARD. But if you be afear'd to hear the worst,
- Then let the worst, unheard, fall on your head.
- KING JOHN. Bear with me, cousin, for I was amaz'd
- Under the tide; but now I breathe again
- Aloft the flood, and can give audience
- To any tongue, speak it of what it will.
- BASTARD. How I have sped among the clergymen
- The sums I have collected shall express.
- But as I travell'd hither through the land,
- I find the people strangely fantasied;
- Possess'd with rumours, full of idle dreams.
- Not knowing what they fear, but full of fear;
- And here's a prophet that I brought with me
- From forth the streets of Pomfret, whom I found
- With many hundreds treading on his heels;
- To whom he sung, in rude harsh-sounding rhymes,
- That, ere the next Ascension-day at noon,
- Your Highness should deliver up your crown.
- KING JOHN. Thou idle dreamer, wherefore didst thou so?
- PETER. Foreknowing that the truth will fall out so.
- KING JOHN. Hubert, away with him; imprison him;
- And on that day at noon whereon he says
- I shall yield up my crown let him be hang'd.
- Deliver him to safety; and return,
- For I must use thee.
- Exit HUBERT with PETER
- O my gentle cousin,
- Hear'st thou the news abroad, who are arriv'd?
- BASTARD. The French, my lord; men's mouths are full of it;
- Besides, I met Lord Bigot and Lord Salisbury,
- With eyes as red as new-enkindled fire,
- And others more, going to seek the grave
- Of Arthur, whom they say is kill'd to-night
- On your suggestion.
- KING JOHN. Gentle kinsman, go
- And thrust thyself into their companies.
- I have a way to will their loves again;
- Bring them before me.
- BASTARD. I Will seek them out.
- KING JOHN. Nay, but make haste; the better foot before.
- O, let me have no subject enemies
- When adverse foreigners affright my towns
- With dreadful pomp of stout invasion!
- Be Mercury, set feathers to thy heels,
- And fly like thought from them to me again.
- BASTARD. The spirit of the time shall teach me speed.
- KING JOHN. Spoke like a sprightful noble gentleman.
- Exit BASTARD
- Go after him; for he perhaps shall need
- Some messenger betwixt me and the peers;
- And be thou he.
- MESSENGER. With all my heart, my liege. Exit
- KING JOHN. My mother dead!
-
- Re-enter HUBERT
-
- HUBERT. My lord, they say five moons were seen to-night;
- Four fixed, and the fifth did whirl about
- The other four in wondrous motion.
- KING JOHN. Five moons!
- HUBERT. Old men and beldams in the streets
- Do prophesy upon it dangerously;
- Young Arthur's death is common in their mouths;
- And when they talk of him, they shake their heads,
- And whisper one another in the ear;
- And he that speaks doth gripe the hearer's wrist,
- Whilst he that hears makes fearful action
- With wrinkled brows, with nods, with rolling eyes.
- I saw a smith stand with his hammer, thus,
- The whilst his iron did on the anvil cool,
- With open mouth swallowing a tailor's news;
- Who, with his shears and measure in his hand,
- Standing on slippers, which his nimble haste
- Had falsely thrust upon contrary feet,
- Told of a many thousand warlike French
- That were embattailed and rank'd in Kent.
- Another lean unwash'd artificer
- Cuts off his tale, and talks of Arthur's death.
- KING JOHN. Why seek'st thou to possess me with these fears?
- Why urgest thou so oft young Arthur's death?
- Thy hand hath murd'red him. I had a mighty cause
- To wish him dead, but thou hadst none to kill him.
- HUBERT. No had, my lord! Why, did you not provoke me?
- KING JOHN. It is the curse of kings to be attended
- By slaves that take their humours for a warrant
- To break within the bloody house of life,
- And on the winking of authority
- To understand a law; to know the meaning
- Of dangerous majesty, when perchance it frowns
- More upon humour than advis'd respect.
- HUBERT. Here is your hand and seal for what I did.
- KING JOHN. O, when the last account 'twixt heaven and earth
- Is to be made, then shall this hand and seal
- Witness against us to damnation!
- How oft the sight of means to do ill deeds
- Make deeds ill done! Hadst not thou been by,
- A fellow by the hand of nature mark'd,
- Quoted and sign'd to do a deed of shame,
- This murder had not come into my mind;
- But, taking note of thy abhorr'd aspect,
- Finding thee fit for bloody villainy,
- Apt, liable to be employ'd in danger,
- I faintly broke with thee of Arthur's death;
- And thou, to be endeared to a king,
- Made it no conscience to destroy a prince.
- HUBERT. My lord-
- KING JOHN. Hadst thou but shook thy head or made pause,
- When I spake darkly what I purposed,
- Or turn'd an eye of doubt upon my face,
- As bid me tell my tale in express words,
- Deep shame had struck me dumb, made me break off,
- And those thy fears might have wrought fears in me.
- But thou didst understand me by my signs,
- And didst in signs again parley with sin;
- Yea, without stop, didst let thy heart consent,
- And consequently thy rude hand to act
- The deed which both our tongues held vile to name.
- Out of my sight, and never see me more!
- My nobles leave me; and my state is braved,
- Even at my gates, with ranks of foreign pow'rs;
- Nay, in the body of the fleshly land,
- This kingdom, this confine of blood and breath,
- Hostility and civil tumult reigns
- Between my conscience and my cousin's death.
- HUBERT. Arm you against your other enemies,
- I'll make a peace between your soul and you.
- Young Arthur is alive. This hand of mine
- Is yet a maiden and an innocent hand,
- Not painted with the crimson spots of blood.
- Within this bosom never ent'red yet
- The dreadful motion of a murderous thought
- And you have slander'd nature in my form,
- Which, howsoever rude exteriorly,
- Is yet the cover of a fairer mind
- Than to be butcher of an innocent child.
- KING JOHN. Doth Arthur live? O, haste thee to the peers,
- Throw this report on their incensed rage
- And make them tame to their obedience!
- Forgive the comment that my passion made
- Upon thy feature; for my rage was blind,
- And foul imaginary eyes of blood
- Presented thee more hideous than thou art.
- O, answer not; but to my closet bring
- The angry lords with all expedient haste.
- I conjure thee but slowly; run more fast. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 3.
-
-England. Before the castle
-
-Enter ARTHUR, on the walls
-
- ARTHUR. The wall is high, and yet will I leap down.
- Good ground, be pitiful and hurt me not!
- There's few or none do know me; if they did,
- This ship-boy's semblance hath disguis'd me quite.
- I am afraid; and yet I'll venture it.
- If I get down and do not break my limbs,
- I'll find a thousand shifts to get away.
- As good to die and go, as die and stay. [Leaps down]
- O me! my uncle's spirit is in these stones.
- Heaven take my soul, and England keep my bones!
- [Dies]
-
- Enter PEMBROKE, SALISBURY, and BIGOT
-
- SALISBURY. Lords, I will meet him at Saint Edmundsbury;
- It is our safety, and we must embrace
- This gentle offer of the perilous time.
- PEMBROKE. Who brought that letter from the Cardinal?
- SALISBURY. The Count Melun, a noble lord of France,
- Whose private with me of the Dauphin's love
- Is much more general than these lines import.
- BIGOT. To-morrow morning let us meet him then.
- SALISBURY. Or rather then set forward; for 'twill be
- Two long days' journey, lords, or ere we meet.
-
- Enter the BASTARD
-
- BASTARD. Once more to-day well met, distemper'd lords!
- The King by me requests your presence straight.
- SALISBURY. The King hath dispossess'd himself of us.
- We will not line his thin bestained cloak
- With our pure honours, nor attend the foot
- That leaves the print of blood where'er it walks.
- Return and tell him so. We know the worst.
- BASTARD. Whate'er you think, good words, I think, were best.
- SALISBURY. Our griefs, and not our manners, reason now.
- BASTARD. But there is little reason in your grief;
- Therefore 'twere reason you had manners now.
- PEMBROKE. Sir, sir, impatience hath his privilege.
- BASTARD. 'Tis true-to hurt his master, no man else.
- SALISBURY. This is the prison. What is he lies here?
- PEMBROKE. O death, made proud with pure and princely beauty!
- The earth had not a hole to hide this deed.
- SALISBURY. Murder, as hating what himself hath done,
- Doth lay it open to urge on revenge.
- BIGOT. Or, when he doom'd this beauty to a grave,
- Found it too precious-princely for a grave.
- SALISBURY. Sir Richard, what think you? Have you beheld,
- Or have you read or heard, or could you think?
- Or do you almost think, although you see,
- That you do see? Could thought, without this object,
- Form such another? This is the very top,
- The height, the crest, or crest unto the crest,
- Of murder's arms; this is the bloodiest shame,
- The wildest savagery, the vilest stroke,
- That ever wall-ey'd wrath or staring rage
- Presented to the tears of soft remorse.
- PEMBROKE. All murders past do stand excus'd in this;
- And this, so sole and so unmatchable,
- Shall give a holiness, a purity,
- To the yet unbegotten sin of times,
- And prove a deadly bloodshed but a jest,
- Exampled by this heinous spectacle.
- BASTARD. It is a damned and a bloody work;
- The graceless action of a heavy hand,
- If that it be the work of any hand.
- SALISBURY. If that it be the work of any hand!
- We had a kind of light what would ensue.
- It is the shameful work of Hubert's hand;
- The practice and the purpose of the King;
- From whose obedience I forbid my soul
- Kneeling before this ruin of sweet life,
- And breathing to his breathless excellence
- The incense of a vow, a holy vow,
- Never to taste the pleasures of the world,
- Never to be infected with delight,
- Nor conversant with ease and idleness,
- Till I have set a glory to this hand
- By giving it the worship of revenge.
- PEMBROKE. and BIGOT. Our souls religiously confirm thy words.
-
- Enter HUBERT
-
- HUBERT. Lords, I am hot with haste in seeking you.
- Arthur doth live; the King hath sent for you.
- SALISBURY. O, he is bold, and blushes not at death!
- Avaunt, thou hateful villain, get thee gone!
- HUBERT. I am no villain.
- SALISBURY. Must I rob the law? [Drawing his sword]
- BASTARD. Your sword is bright, sir; put it up again.
- SALISBURY. Not till I sheathe it in a murderer's skin.
- HUBERT. Stand back, Lord Salisbury, stand back, I say;
- By heaven, I think my sword's as sharp as yours.
- I would not have you, lord, forget yourself,
- Nor tempt the danger of my true defence;
- Lest I, by marking of your rage, forget
- Your worth, your greatness and nobility.
- BIGOT. Out, dunghill! Dar'st thou brave a nobleman?
- HUBERT. Not for my life; but yet I dare defend
- My innocent life against an emperor.
- SALISBURY. Thou art a murderer.
- HUBERT. Do not prove me so.
- Yet I am none. Whose tongue soe'er speaks false,
- Not truly speaks; who speaks not truly, lies.
- PEMBROKE. Cut him to pieces.
- BASTARD. Keep the peace, I say.
- SALISBURY. Stand by, or I shall gall you, Faulconbridge.
- BASTARD. Thou wert better gall the devil, Salisbury.
- If thou but frown on me, or stir thy foot,
- Or teach thy hasty spleen to do me shame,
- I'll strike thee dead. Put up thy sword betime;
- Or I'll so maul you and your toasting-iron
- That you shall think the devil is come from hell.
- BIGOT. What wilt thou do, renowned Faulconbridge?
- Second a villain and a murderer?
- HUBERT. Lord Bigot, I am none.
- BIGOT. Who kill'd this prince?
- HUBERT. 'Tis not an hour since I left him well.
- I honour'd him, I lov'd him, and will weep
- My date of life out for his sweet life's loss.
- SALISBURY. Trust not those cunning waters of his eyes,
- For villainy is not without such rheum;
- And he, long traded in it, makes it seem
- Like rivers of remorse and innocency.
- Away with me, all you whose souls abhor
- Th' uncleanly savours of a slaughter-house;
- For I am stifled with this smell of sin.
- BIGOT. Away toward Bury, to the Dauphin there!
- PEMBROKE. There tell the King he may inquire us out.
- Exeunt LORDS
- BASTARD. Here's a good world! Knew you of this fair work?
- Beyond the infinite and boundless reach
- Of mercy, if thou didst this deed of death,
- Art thou damn'd, Hubert.
- HUBERT. Do but hear me, sir.
- BASTARD. Ha! I'll tell thee what:
- Thou'rt damn'd as black-nay, nothing is so black-
- Thou art more deep damn'd than Prince Lucifer;
- There is not yet so ugly a fiend of hell
- As thou shalt be, if thou didst kill this child.
- HUBERT. Upon my soul-
- BASTARD. If thou didst but consent
- To this most cruel act, do but despair;
- And if thou want'st a cord, the smallest thread
- That ever spider twisted from her womb
- Will serve to strangle thee; a rush will be a beam
- To hang thee on; or wouldst thou drown thyself,
- Put but a little water in a spoon
- And it shall be as all the ocean,
- Enough to stifle such a villain up
- I do suspect thee very grievously.
- HUBERT. If I in act, consent, or sin of thought,
- Be guilty of the stealing that sweet breath
- Which was embounded in this beauteous clay,
- Let hell want pains enough to torture me!
- I left him well.
- BASTARD. Go, bear him in thine arms.
- I am amaz'd, methinks, and lose my way
- Among the thorns and dangers of this world.
- How easy dost thou take all England up!
- From forth this morsel of dead royalty
- The life, the right, and truth of all this realm
- Is fled to heaven; and England now is left
- To tug and scamble, and to part by th' teeth
- The unowed interest of proud-swelling state.
- Now for the bare-pick'd bone of majesty
- Doth dogged war bristle his angry crest
- And snarleth in the gentle eyes of peace;
- Now powers from home and discontents at home
- Meet in one line; and vast confusion waits,
- As doth a raven on a sick-fall'n beast,
- The imminent decay of wrested pomp.
- Now happy he whose cloak and cincture can
- Hold out this tempest. Bear away that child,
- And follow me with speed. I'll to the King;
- A thousand businesses are brief in hand,
- And heaven itself doth frown upon the land. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT V. SCENE 1.
-England. KING JOHN'S palace
-
-Enter KING JOHN, PANDULPH, and attendants
-
- KING JOHN. Thus have I yielded up into your hand
- The circle of my glory.
- PANDULPH. [Gives back the crown] Take again
- From this my hand, as holding of the Pope,
- Your sovereign greatness and authority.
- KING JOHN. Now keep your holy word; go meet the French;
- And from his Holiness use all your power
- To stop their marches fore we are inflam'd.
- Our discontented counties do revolt;
- Our people quarrel with obedience,
- Swearing allegiance and the love of soul
- To stranger blood, to foreign royalty.
- This inundation of mistemp'red humour
- Rests by you only to be qualified.
- Then pause not; for the present time's so sick
- That present med'cine must be minist'red
- Or overthrow incurable ensues.
- PANDULPH. It was my breath that blew this tempest up,
- Upon your stubborn usage of the Pope;
- But since you are a gentle convertite,
- My tongue shall hush again this storm of war
- And make fair weather in your blust'ring land.
- On this Ascension-day, remember well,
- Upon your oath of service to the Pope,
- Go I to make the French lay down their arms. Exit
- KING JOHN. Is this Ascension-day? Did not the prophet
- Say that before Ascension-day at noon
- My crown I should give off? Even so I have.
- I did suppose it should be on constraint;
- But, heaven be thank'd, it is but voluntary.
-
- Enter the BASTARD
-
- BASTARD. All Kent hath yielded; nothing there holds out
- But Dover Castle. London hath receiv'd,
- Like a kind host, the Dauphin and his powers.
- Your nobles will not hear you, but are gone
- To offer service to your enemy;
- And wild amazement hurries up and down
- The little number of your doubtful friends.
- KING JOHN. Would not my lords return to me again
- After they heard young Arthur was alive?
- BASTARD. They found him dead, and cast into the streets,
- An empty casket, where the jewel of life
- By some damn'd hand was robbed and ta'en away.
- KING JOHN. That villain Hubert told me he did live.
- BASTARD. So, on my soul, he did, for aught he knew.
- But wherefore do you droop? Why look you sad?
- Be great in act, as you have been in thought;
- Let not the world see fear and sad distrust
- Govern the motion of a kingly eye.
- Be stirring as the time; be fire with fire;
- Threaten the threat'ner, and outface the brow
- Of bragging horror; so shall inferior eyes,
- That borrow their behaviours from the great,
- Grow great by your example and put on
- The dauntless spirit of resolution.
- Away, and glister like the god of war
- When he intendeth to become the field;
- Show boldness and aspiring confidence.
- What, shall they seek the lion in his den,
- And fright him there, and make him tremble there?
- O, let it not be said! Forage, and run
- To meet displeasure farther from the doors
- And grapple with him ere he come so nigh.
- KING JOHN. The legate of the Pope hath been with me,
- And I have made a happy peace with him;
- And he hath promis'd to dismiss the powers
- Led by the Dauphin.
- BASTARD. O inglorious league!
- Shall we, upon the footing of our land,
- Send fair-play orders, and make compromise,
- Insinuation, parley, and base truce,
- To arms invasive? Shall a beardless boy,
- A cock'red silken wanton, brave our fields
- And flesh his spirit in a warlike soil,
- Mocking the air with colours idly spread,
- And find no check? Let us, my liege, to arms.
- Perchance the Cardinal cannot make your peace;
- Or, if he do, let it at least be said
- They saw we had a purpose of defence.
- KING JOHN. Have thou the ordering of this present time.
- BASTARD. Away, then, with good courage!
- Yet, I know
- Our party may well meet a prouder foe. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 2.
-England. The DAUPHIN'S camp at Saint Edmundsbury
-
-Enter, in arms, LEWIS, SALISBURY, MELUN, PEMBROKE, BIGOT, and soldiers
-
- LEWIS. My Lord Melun, let this be copied out
- And keep it safe for our remembrance;
- Return the precedent to these lords again,
- That, having our fair order written down,
- Both they and we, perusing o'er these notes,
- May know wherefore we took the sacrament,
- And keep our faiths firm and inviolable.
- SALISBURY. Upon our sides it never shall be broken.
- And, noble Dauphin, albeit we swear
- A voluntary zeal and an unurg'd faith
- To your proceedings; yet, believe me, Prince,
- I am not glad that such a sore of time
- Should seek a plaster by contemn'd revolt,
- And heal the inveterate canker of one wound
- By making many. O, it grieves my soul
- That I must draw this metal from my side
- To be a widow-maker! O, and there
- Where honourable rescue and defence
- Cries out upon the name of Salisbury!
- But such is the infection of the time
- That, for the health and physic of our right,
- We cannot deal but with the very hand
- Of stern injustice and confused wrong.
- And is't not pity, O my grieved friends!
- That we, the sons and children of this isle,
- Were born to see so sad an hour as this;
- Wherein we step after a stranger-march
- Upon her gentle bosom, and fill up
- Her enemies' ranks-I must withdraw and weep
- Upon the spot of this enforced cause-
- To grace the gentry of a land remote
- And follow unacquainted colours here?
- What, here? O nation, that thou couldst remove!
- That Neptune's arms, who clippeth thee about,
- Would bear thee from the knowledge of thyself
- And grapple thee unto a pagan shore,
- Where these two Christian armies might combine
- The blood of malice in a vein of league,
- And not to spend it so unneighbourly!
- LEWIS. A noble temper dost thou show in this;
- And great affections wrestling in thy bosom
- Doth make an earthquake of nobility.
- O, what a noble combat hast thou fought
- Between compulsion and a brave respect!
- Let me wipe off this honourable dew
- That silverly doth progress on thy cheeks.
- My heart hath melted at a lady's tears,
- Being an ordinary inundation;
- But this effusion of such manly drops,
- This show'r, blown up by tempest of the soul,
- Startles mine eyes and makes me more amaz'd
- Than had I seen the vaulty top of heaven
- Figur'd quite o'er with burning meteors.
- Lift up thy brow, renowned Salisbury,
- And with a great heart heave away this storm;
- Commend these waters to those baby eyes
- That never saw the giant world enrag'd,
- Nor met with fortune other than at feasts,
- Full of warm blood, of mirth, of gossiping.
- Come, come; for thou shalt thrust thy hand as deep
- Into the purse of rich prosperity
- As Lewis himself. So, nobles, shall you all,
- That knit your sinews to the strength of mine.
-
- Enter PANDULPH
-
- And even there, methinks, an angel spake:
- Look where the holy legate comes apace,
- To give us warrant from the hand of heaven
- And on our actions set the name of right
- With holy breath.
- PANDULPH. Hail, noble prince of France!
- The next is this: King John hath reconcil'd
- Himself to Rome; his spirit is come in,
- That so stood out against the holy Church,
- The great metropolis and see of Rome.
- Therefore thy threat'ning colours now wind up
- And tame the savage spirit of wild war,
- That, like a lion fostered up at hand,
- It may lie gently at the foot of peace
- And be no further harmful than in show.
- LEWIS. Your Grace shall pardon me, I will not back:
- I am too high-born to be propertied,
- To be a secondary at control,
- Or useful serving-man and instrument
- To any sovereign state throughout the world.
- Your breath first kindled the dead coal of wars
- Between this chastis'd kingdom and myself
- And brought in matter that should feed this fire;
- And now 'tis far too huge to be blown out
- With that same weak wind which enkindled it.
- You taught me how to know the face of right,
- Acquainted me with interest to this land,
- Yea, thrust this enterprise into my heart;
- And come ye now to tell me John hath made
- His peace with Rome? What is that peace to me?
- I, by the honour of my marriage-bed,
- After young Arthur, claim this land for mine;
- And, now it is half-conquer'd, must I back
- Because that John hath made his peace with Rome?
- Am I Rome's slave? What penny hath Rome borne,
- What men provided, what munition sent,
- To underprop this action? Is 't not I
- That undergo this charge? Who else but I,
- And such as to my claim are liable,
- Sweat in this business and maintain this war?
- Have I not heard these islanders shout out
- 'Vive le roi!' as I have bank'd their towns?
- Have I not here the best cards for the game
- To will this easy match, play'd for a crown?
- And shall I now give o'er the yielded set?
- No, no, on my soul, it never shall be said.
- PANDULPH. You look but on the outside of this work.
- LEWIS. Outside or inside, I will not return
- Till my attempt so much be glorified
- As to my ample hope was promised
- Before I drew this gallant head of war,
- And cull'd these fiery spirits from the world
- To outlook conquest, and to will renown
- Even in the jaws of danger and of death.
- [Trumpet sounds]
- What lusty trumpet thus doth summon us?
-
- Enter the BASTARD, attended
-
- BASTARD. According to the fair play of the world,
- Let me have audience: I am sent to speak.
- My holy lord of Milan, from the King
- I come, to learn how you have dealt for him;
- And, as you answer, I do know the scope
- And warrant limited unto my tongue.
- PANDULPH. The Dauphin is too wilful-opposite,
- And will not temporize with my entreaties;
- He flatly says he'll not lay down his arms.
- BASTARD. By all the blood that ever fury breath'd,
- The youth says well. Now hear our English King;
- For thus his royalty doth speak in me.
- He is prepar'd, and reason too he should.
- This apish and unmannerly approach,
- This harness'd masque and unadvised revel
- This unhair'd sauciness and boyish troops,
- The King doth smile at; and is well prepar'd
- To whip this dwarfish war, these pigmy arms,
- From out the circle of his territories.
- That hand which had the strength, even at your door.
- To cudgel you and make you take the hatch,
- To dive like buckets in concealed wells,
- To crouch in litter of your stable planks,
- To lie like pawns lock'd up in chests and trunks,
- To hug with swine, to seek sweet safety out
- In vaults and prisons, and to thrill and shake
- Even at the crying of your nation's crow,
- Thinking this voice an armed Englishman-
- Shall that victorious hand be feebled here
- That in your chambers gave you chastisement?
- No. Know the gallant monarch is in arms
- And like an eagle o'er his aery tow'rs
- To souse annoyance that comes near his nest.
- And you degenerate, you ingrate revolts,
- You bloody Neroes, ripping up the womb
- Of your dear mother England, blush for shame;
- For your own ladies and pale-visag'd maids,
- Like Amazons, come tripping after drums,
- Their thimbles into armed gauntlets change,
- Their needles to lances, and their gentle hearts
- To fierce and bloody inclination.
- LEWIS. There end thy brave, and turn thy face in peace;
- We grant thou canst outscold us. Fare thee well;
- We hold our time too precious to be spent
- With such a brabbler.
- PANDULPH. Give me leave to speak.
- BASTARD. No, I will speak.
- LEWIS. We will attend to neither.
- Strike up the drums; and let the tongue of war,
- Plead for our interest and our being here.
- BASTARD. Indeed, your drums, being beaten, will cry out;
- And so shall you, being beaten. Do but start
- And echo with the clamour of thy drum,
- And even at hand a drum is ready brac'd
- That shall reverberate all as loud as thine:
- Sound but another, and another shall,
- As loud as thine, rattle the welkin's ear
- And mock the deep-mouth'd thunder; for at hand-
- Not trusting to this halting legate here,
- Whom he hath us'd rather for sport than need-
- Is warlike John; and in his forehead sits
- A bare-ribb'd death, whose office is this day
- To feast upon whole thousands of the French.
- LEWIS. Strike up our drums to find this danger out.
- BASTARD. And thou shalt find it, Dauphin, do not doubt.
- Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 3.
-
-England. The field of battle
-
-Alarums. Enter KING JOHN and HUBERT
-
- KING JOHN. How goes the day with us? O, tell me, Hubert.
- HUBERT. Badly, I fear. How fares your Majesty?
- KING JOHN. This fever that hath troubled me so long
- Lies heavy on me. O, my heart is sick!
-
- Enter a MESSENGER
-
- MESSENGER. My lord, your valiant kinsman, Faulconbridge,
- Desires your Majesty to leave the field
- And send him word by me which way you go.
- KING JOHN. Tell him, toward Swinstead, to the abbey there.
- MESSENGER. Be of good comfort; for the great supply
- That was expected by the Dauphin here
- Are wreck'd three nights ago on Goodwin Sands;
- This news was brought to Richard but even now.
- The French fight coldly, and retire themselves.
- KING JOHN. Ay me, this tyrant fever burns me up
- And will not let me welcome this good news.
- Set on toward Swinstead; to my litter straight;
- Weakness possesseth me, and I am faint. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 4.
-
-England. Another part of the battlefield
-
-Enter SALISBURY, PEMBROKE, and BIGOT
-
- SALISBURY. I did not think the King so stor'd with friends.
- PEMBROKE. Up once again; put spirit in the French;
- If they miscarry, we miscarry too.
- SALISBURY. That misbegotten devil, Faulconbridge,
- In spite of spite, alone upholds the day.
- PEMBROKE. They say King John, sore sick, hath left the field.
-
- Enter MELUN, wounded
-
- MELUN. Lead me to the revolts of England here.
- SALISBURY. When we were happy we had other names.
- PEMBROKE. It is the Count Melun.
- SALISBURY. Wounded to death.
- MELUN. Fly, noble English, you are bought and sold;
- Unthread the rude eye of rebellion,
- And welcome home again discarded faith.
- Seek out King John, and fall before his feet;
- For if the French be lords of this loud day,
- He means to recompense the pains you take
- By cutting off your heads. Thus hath he sworn,
- And I with him, and many moe with me,
- Upon the altar at Saint Edmundsbury;
- Even on that altar where we swore to you
- Dear amity and everlasting love.
- SALISBURY. May this be possible? May this be true?
- MELUN. Have I not hideous death within my view,
- Retaining but a quantity of life,
- Which bleeds away even as a form of wax
- Resolveth from his figure 'gainst the fire?
- What in the world should make me now deceive,
- Since I must lose the use of all deceit?
- Why should I then be false, since it is true
- That I must die here, and live hence by truth?
- I say again, if Lewis do will the day,
- He is forsworn if e'er those eyes of yours
- Behold another day break in the east;
- But even this night, whose black contagious breath
- Already smokes about the burning crest
- Of the old, feeble, and day-wearied sun,
- Even this ill night, your breathing shall expire,
- Paying the fine of rated treachery
- Even with a treacherous fine of all your lives.
- If Lewis by your assistance win the day.
- Commend me to one Hubert, with your King;
- The love of him-and this respect besides,
- For that my grandsire was an Englishman-
- Awakes my conscience to confess all this.
- In lieu whereof, I pray you, bear me hence
- From forth the noise and rumour of the field,
- Where I may think the remnant of my thoughts
- In peace, and part this body and my soul
- With contemplation and devout desires.
- SALISBURY. We do believe thee; and beshrew my soul
- But I do love the favour and the form
- Of this most fair occasion, by the which
- We will untread the steps of damned flight,
- And like a bated and retired flood,
- Leaving our rankness and irregular course,
- Stoop low within those bounds we have o'erlook'd,
- And calmly run on in obedience
- Even to our ocean, to great King John.
- My arm shall give thee help to bear thee hence;
- For I do see the cruel pangs of death
- Right in thine eye. Away, my friends! New flight,
- And happy newness, that intends old right.
- Exeunt, leading off MELUN
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 5.
-
-England. The French camp
-
-Enter LEWIS and his train
-
- LEWIS. The sun of heaven, methought, was loath to set,
- But stay'd and made the western welkin blush,
- When English measure backward their own ground
- In faint retire. O, bravely came we off,
- When with a volley of our needless shot,
- After such bloody toil, we bid good night;
- And wound our tott'ring colours clearly up,
- Last in the field and almost lords of it!
-
- Enter a MESSENGER
-
- MESSENGER. Where is my prince, the Dauphin?
- LEWIS. Here; what news?
- MESSENGER. The Count Melun is slain; the English lords
- By his persuasion are again fall'n off,
- And your supply, which you have wish'd so long,
- Are cast away and sunk on Goodwin Sands.
- LEWIS. Ah, foul shrewd news! Beshrew thy very heart!
- I did not think to be so sad to-night
- As this hath made me. Who was he that said
- King John did fly an hour or two before
- The stumbling night did part our weary pow'rs?
- MESSENGER. Whoever spoke it, it is true, my lord.
- LEWIS. keep good quarter and good care to-night;
- The day shall not be up so soon as I
- To try the fair adventure of to-morrow. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 6.
-
-An open place wear Swinstead Abbey
-
-Enter the BASTARD and HUBERT, severally
-
- HUBERT. Who's there? Speak, ho! speak quickly, or I shoot.
- BASTARD. A friend. What art thou?
- HUBERT. Of the part of England.
- BASTARD. Whither dost thou go?
- HUBERT. What's that to thee? Why may I not demand
- Of thine affairs as well as thou of mine?
- BASTARD. Hubert, I think.
- HUBERT. Thou hast a perfect thought.
- I will upon all hazards well believe
- Thou art my friend that know'st my tongue so well.
- Who art thou?
- BASTARD. Who thou wilt. And if thou please,
- Thou mayst befriend me so much as to think
- I come one way of the Plantagenets.
- HUBERT. Unkind remembrance! thou and eyeless night
- Have done me shame. Brave soldier, pardon me
- That any accent breaking from thy tongue
- Should scape the true acquaintance of mine ear.
- BASTARD. Come, come; sans compliment, what news abroad?
- HUBERT. Why, here walk I in the black brow of night
- To find you out.
- BASTARD. Brief, then; and what's the news?
- HUBERT. O, my sweet sir, news fitting to the night,
- Black, fearful, comfortless, and horrible.
- BASTARD. Show me the very wound of this ill news;
- I am no woman, I'll not swoon at it.
- HUBERT. The King, I fear, is poison'd by a monk;
- I left him almost speechless and broke out
- To acquaint you with this evil, that you might
- The better arm you to the sudden time
- Than if you had at leisure known of this.
- BASTARD. How did he take it; who did taste to him?
- HUBERT. A monk, I tell you; a resolved villain,
- Whose bowels suddenly burst out. The King
- Yet speaks, and peradventure may recover.
- BASTARD. Who didst thou leave to tend his Majesty?
- HUBERT. Why, know you not? The lords are all come back,
- And brought Prince Henry in their company;
- At whose request the King hath pardon'd them,
- And they are all about his Majesty.
- BASTARD. Withhold thine indignation, mighty heaven,
- And tempt us not to bear above our power!
- I'll tell thee, Hubert, half my power this night,
- Passing these flats, are taken by the tide-
- These Lincoln Washes have devoured them;
- Myself, well-mounted, hardly have escap'd.
- Away, before! conduct me to the King;
- I doubt he will be dead or ere I come. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 7.
-
-The orchard at Swinstead Abbey
-
-Enter PRINCE HENRY, SALISBURY, and BIGOT
-
- PRINCE HENRY. It is too late; the life of all his blood
- Is touch'd corruptibly, and his pure brain.
- Which some suppose the soul's frail dwelling-house,
- Doth by the idle comments that it makes
- Foretell the ending of mortality.
-
- Enter PEMBROKE
-
- PEMBROKE. His Highness yet doth speak, and holds belief
- That, being brought into the open air,
- It would allay the burning quality
- Of that fell poison which assaileth him.
- PRINCE HENRY. Let him be brought into the orchard here.
- Doth he still rage? Exit BIGOT
- PEMBROKE. He is more patient
- Than when you left him; even now he sung.
- PRINCE HENRY. O vanity of sickness! Fierce extremes
- In their continuance will not feel themselves.
- Death, having prey'd upon the outward parts,
- Leaves them invisible, and his siege is now
- Against the mind, the which he pricks and wounds
- With many legions of strange fantasies,
- Which, in their throng and press to that last hold,
- Confound themselves. 'Tis strange that death should sing.
- I am the cygnet to this pale faint swan
- Who chants a doleful hymn to his own death,
- And from the organ-pipe of frailty sings
- His soul and body to their lasting rest.
- SALISBURY. Be of good comfort, Prince; for you are born
- To set a form upon that indigest
- Which he hath left so shapeless and so rude.
-
- Re-enter BIGOT and attendants, who bring in
- KING JOHN in a chair
-
- KING JOHN. Ay, marry, now my soul hath elbow-room;
- It would not out at windows nor at doors.
- There is so hot a summer in my bosom
- That all my bowels crumble up to dust.
- I am a scribbled form drawn with a pen
- Upon a parchment, and against this fire
- Do I shrink up.
- PRINCE HENRY. How fares your Majesty?
- KING JOHN. Poison'd-ill-fare! Dead, forsook, cast off;
- And none of you will bid the winter come
- To thrust his icy fingers in my maw,
- Nor let my kingdom's rivers take their course
- Through my burn'd bosom, nor entreat the north
- To make his bleak winds kiss my parched lips
- And comfort me with cold. I do not ask you much;
- I beg cold comfort; and you are so strait
- And so ingrateful you deny me that.
- PRINCE HENRY. O that there were some virtue in my tears,
- That might relieve you!
- KING JOHN. The salt in them is hot.
- Within me is a hell; and there the poison
- Is as a fiend confin'd to tyrannize
- On unreprievable condemned blood.
-
- Enter the BASTARD
-
- BASTARD. O, I am scalded with my violent motion
- And spleen of speed to see your Majesty!
- KING JOHN. O cousin, thou art come to set mine eye!
- The tackle of my heart is crack'd and burnt,
- And all the shrouds wherewith my life should sail
- Are turned to one thread, one little hair;
- My heart hath one poor string to stay it by,
- Which holds but till thy news be uttered;
- And then all this thou seest is but a clod
- And module of confounded royalty.
- BASTARD. The Dauphin is preparing hitherward,
- Where God He knows how we shall answer him;
- For in a night the best part of my pow'r,
- As I upon advantage did remove,
- Were in the Washes all unwarily
- Devoured by the unexpected flood. [The KING dies]
- SALISBURY. You breathe these dead news in as dead an ear.
- My liege! my lord! But now a king-now thus.
- PRINCE HENRY. Even so must I run on, and even so stop.
- What surety of the world, what hope, what stay,
- When this was now a king, and now is clay?
- BASTARD. Art thou gone so? I do but stay behind
- To do the office for thee of revenge,
- And then my soul shall wait on thee to heaven,
- As it on earth hath been thy servant still.
- Now, now, you stars that move in your right spheres,
- Where be your pow'rs? Show now your mended faiths,
- And instantly return with me again
- To push destruction and perpetual shame
- Out of the weak door of our fainting land.
- Straight let us seek, or straight we shall be sought;
- The Dauphin rages at our very heels.
- SALISBURY. It seems you know not, then, so much as we:
- The Cardinal Pandulph is within at rest,
- Who half an hour since came from the Dauphin,
- And brings from him such offers of our peace
- As we with honour and respect may take,
- With purpose presently to leave this war.
- BASTARD. He will the rather do it when he sees
- Ourselves well sinewed to our defence.
- SALISBURY. Nay, 'tis in a manner done already;
- For many carriages he hath dispatch'd
- To the sea-side, and put his cause and quarrel
- To the disposing of the Cardinal;
- With whom yourself, myself, and other lords,
- If you think meet, this afternoon will post
- To consummate this business happily.
- BASTARD. Let it be so. And you, my noble Prince,
- With other princes that may best be spar'd,
- Shall wait upon your father's funeral.
- PRINCE HENRY. At Worcester must his body be interr'd;
- For so he will'd it.
- BASTARD. Thither shall it, then;
- And happily may your sweet self put on
- The lineal state and glory of the land!
- To whom, with all submission, on my knee
- I do bequeath my faithful services
- And true subjection everlastingly.
- SALISBURY. And the like tender of our love we make,
- To rest without a spot for evermore.
- PRINCE HENRY. I have a kind soul that would give you thanks,
- And knows not how to do it but with tears.
- BASTARD. O, let us pay the time but needful woe,
- Since it hath been beforehand with our griefs.
- This England never did, nor never shall,
- Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror,
- But when it first did help to wound itself.
- Now these her princes are come home again,
- Come the three corners of the world in arms,
- And we shall shock them. Nought shall make us rue,
- If England to itself do rest but true. Exeunt
-
-THE END
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-
-
-
-1599
-
-
-THE TRAGEDY OF JULIUS CAESAR
-
-by William Shakespeare
-
-
-
-Dramatis Personae
-
- JULIUS CAESAR, Roman statesman and general
- OCTAVIUS, Triumvir after Caesar's death, later Augustus Caesar,
- first emperor of Rome
- MARK ANTONY, general and friend of Caesar, a Triumvir after his death
- LEPIDUS, third member of the Triumvirate
- MARCUS BRUTUS, leader of the conspiracy against Caesar
- CASSIUS, instigator of the conspiracy
- CASCA, conspirator against Caesar
- TREBONIUS, " " "
- CAIUS LIGARIUS, " " "
- DECIUS BRUTUS, " " "
- METELLUS CIMBER, " " "
- CINNA, " " "
- CALPURNIA, wife of Caesar
- PORTIA, wife of Brutus
- CICERO, senator
- POPILIUS, "
- POPILIUS LENA, "
- FLAVIUS, tribune
- MARULLUS, tribune
- CATO, supportor of Brutus
- LUCILIUS, " " "
- TITINIUS, " " "
- MESSALA, " " "
- VOLUMNIUS, " " "
- ARTEMIDORUS, a teacher of rhetoric
- CINNA, a poet
- VARRO, servant to Brutus
- CLITUS, " " "
- CLAUDIO, " " "
- STRATO, " " "
- LUCIUS, " " "
- DARDANIUS, " " "
- PINDARUS, servant to Cassius
- The Ghost of Caesar
- A Soothsayer
- A Poet
- Senators, Citizens, Soldiers, Commoners, Messengers, and Servants
-
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-SCENE: Rome, the conspirators' camp near Sardis, and the plains of Philippi.
-
-
-ACT I. SCENE I.
-Rome. A street.
-
-Enter Flavius, Marullus, and certain Commoners.
-
- FLAVIUS. Hence, home, you idle creatures, get you home.
- Is this a holiday? What, know you not,
- Being mechanical, you ought not walk
- Upon a laboring day without the sign
- Of your profession? Speak, what trade art thou?
- FIRST COMMONER. Why, sir, a carpenter.
- MARULLUS. Where is thy leather apron and thy rule?
- What dost thou with thy best apparel on?
- You, sir, what trade are you?
- SECOND COMMONER. Truly, sir, in respect of a fine workman, I am
- but, as you would say, a cobbler.
- MARULLUS. But what trade art thou? Answer me directly.
- SECOND COMMONER. A trade, sir, that, I hope, I may use with a safe
- conscience, which is indeed, sir, a mender of bad soles.
- MARULLUS. What trade, thou knave? Thou naughty knave, what trade?
- SECOND COMMONER. Nay, I beseech you, sir, be not out with me; yet,
- if you be out, sir, I can mend you.
- MARULLUS. What mean'st thou by that? Mend me, thou saucy fellow!
- SECOND COMMONER. Why, sir, cobble you.
- FLAVIUS. Thou art a cobbler, art thou?
- SECOND COMMONER. Truly, Sir, all that I live by is with the awl; I
- meddle with no tradesman's matters, nor women's matters, but with
- awl. I am indeed, sir, a surgeon to old shoes; when they are in
- great danger, I recover them. As proper men as ever trod upon
- neat's leather have gone upon my handiwork.
- FLAVIUS. But wherefore art not in thy shop today?
- Why dost thou lead these men about the streets?
- SECOND COMMONER. Truly, sir, to wear out their shoes to get myself
- into more work. But indeed, sir, we make holiday to see Caesar
- and to rejoice in his triumph.
- MARULLUS. Wherefore rejoice? What conquest brings he home?
- What tributaries follow him to Rome
- To grace in captive bonds his chariot wheels?
- You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things!
- O you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome,
- Knew you not Pompey? Many a time and oft
- Have you climb'd up to walls and battlements,
- To towers and windows, yea, to chimney tops,
- Your infants in your arms, and there have sat
- The livelong day with patient expectation
- To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome.
- And when you saw his chariot but appear,
- Have you not made an universal shout
- That Tiber trembled underneath her banks
- To hear the replication of your sounds
- Made in her concave shores?
- And do you now put on your best attire?
- And do you now cull out a holiday?
- And do you now strew flowers in his way
- That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood?
- Be gone!
- Run to your houses, fall upon your knees,
- Pray to the gods to intermit the plague
- That needs must light on this ingratitude.
- FLAVIUS. Go, go, good countrymen, and, for this fault,
- Assemble all the poor men of your sort,
- Draw them to Tiber banks, and weep your tears
- Into the channel, till the lowest stream
- Do kiss the most exalted shores of all.
- Exeunt all Commoners.
- See whether their basest metal be not moved;
- They vanish tongue-tied in their guiltiness.
- Go you down that way towards the Capitol;
- This way will I. Disrobe the images
- If you do find them deck'd with ceremonies.
- MARULLUS. May we do so?
- You know it is the feast of Lupercal.
- FLAVIUS. It is no matter; let no images
- Be hung with Caesar's trophies. I'll about
- And drive away the vulgar from the streets;
- So do you too, where you perceive them thick.
- These growing feathers pluck'd from Caesar's wing
- Will make him fly an ordinary pitch,
- Who else would soar above the view of men
- And keep us all in servile fearfulness. Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-A public place.
-
-Flourish. Enter Caesar; Antony, for the course; Calpurnia, Portia,
-Decius, Cicero, Brutus, Cassius, and Casca; a great crowd follows,
-among them a Soothsayer.
-
- CAESAR. Calpurnia!
- CASCA. Peace, ho! Caesar speaks.
- Music ceases.
- CAESAR. Calpurnia!
- CALPURNIA. Here, my lord.
- CAESAR. Stand you directly in Antonio's way,
- When he doth run his course. Antonio!
- ANTONY. Caesar, my lord?
- CAESAR. Forget not in your speed, Antonio,
- To touch Calpurnia, for our elders say
- The barren, touched in this holy chase,
- Shake off their sterile curse.
- ANTONY. I shall remember.
- When Caesar says "Do this," it is perform'd.
- CAESAR. Set on, and leave no ceremony out. Flourish.
- SOOTHSAYER. Caesar!
- CAESAR. Ha! Who calls?
- CASCA. Bid every noise be still. Peace yet again!
- CAESAR. Who is it in the press that calls on me?
- I hear a tongue, shriller than all the music,
- Cry "Caesar." Speak, Caesar is turn'd to hear.
- SOOTHSAYER. Beware the ides of March.
- CAESAR. What man is that?
- BRUTUS. A soothsayer you beware the ides of March.
- CAESAR. Set him before me let me see his face.
- CASSIUS. Fellow, come from the throng; look upon Caesar.
- CAESAR. What say'st thou to me now? Speak once again.
- SOOTHSAYER. Beware the ides of March.
- CAESAR. He is a dreamer; let us leave him. Pass.
- Sennet. Exeunt all but Brutus and Cassius.
- CASSIUS. Will you go see the order of the course?
- BRUTUS. Not I.
- CASSIUS. I pray you, do.
- BRUTUS. I am not gamesome; I do lack some part
- Of that quick spirit that is in Antony.
- Let me not hinder, Cassius, your desires;
- I'll leave you.
- CASSIUS. Brutus, I do observe you now of late;
- I have not from your eyes that gentleness
- And show of love as I was wont to have;
- You bear too stubborn and too strange a hand
- Over your friend that loves you.
- BRUTUS. Cassius,
- Be not deceived; if I have veil'd my look,
- I turn the trouble of my countenance
- Merely upon myself. Vexed I am
- Of late with passions of some difference,
- Conceptions only proper to myself,
- Which give some soil perhaps to my behaviors;
- But let not therefore my good friends be grieved-
- Among which number, Cassius, be you one-
- Nor construe any further my neglect
- Than that poor Brutus with himself at war
- Forgets the shows of love to other men.
- CASSIUS. Then, Brutus, I have much mistook your passion,
- By means whereof this breast of mine hath buried
- Thoughts of great value, worthy cogitations.
- Tell me, good Brutus, can you see your face?
- BRUTUS. No, Cassius, for the eye sees not itself
- But by reflection, by some other things.
- CASSIUS. 'Tis just,
- And it is very much lamented, Brutus,
- That you have no such mirrors as will turn
- Your hidden worthiness into your eye
- That you might see your shadow. I have heard
- Where many of the best respect in Rome,
- Except immortal Caesar, speaking of Brutus
- And groaning underneath this age's yoke,
- Have wish'd that noble Brutus had his eyes.
- BRUTUS. Into what dangers would you lead me, Cassius,
- That you would have me seek into myself
- For that which is not in me?
- CASSIUS. Therefore, good Brutus, be prepared to hear,
- And since you know you cannot see yourself
- So well as by reflection, I your glass
- Will modestly discover to yourself
- That of yourself which you yet know not of.
- And be not jealous on me, gentle Brutus;
- Were I a common laugher, or did use
- To stale with ordinary oaths my love
- To every new protester, if you know
- That I do fawn on men and hug them hard
- And after scandal them, or if you know
- That I profess myself in banqueting
- To all the rout, then hold me dangerous.
- Flourish and shout.
- BRUTUS. What means this shouting? I do fear the people
- Choose Caesar for their king.
- CASSIUS. Ay, do you fear it?
- Then must I think you would not have it so.
- BRUTUS. I would not, Cassius, yet I love him well.
- But wherefore do you hold me here so long?
- What is it that you would impart to me?
- If it be aught toward the general good,
- Set honor in one eye and death i' the other
- And I will look on both indifferently.
- For let the gods so speed me as I love
- The name of honor more than I fear death.
- CASSIUS. I know that virtue to be in you, Brutus,
- As well as I do know your outward favor.
- Well, honor is the subject of my story.
- I cannot tell what you and other men
- Think of this life, but, for my single self,
- I had as lief not be as live to be
- In awe of such a thing as I myself.
- I was born free as Caesar, so were you;
- We both have fed as well, and we can both
- Endure the winter's cold as well as he.
- For once, upon a raw and gusty day,
- The troubled Tiber chafing with her shores,
- Caesar said to me, "Darest thou, Cassius, now
- Leap in with me into this angry flood
- And swim to yonder point?" Upon the word,
- Accoutred as I was, I plunged in
- And bade him follow. So indeed he did.
- The torrent roar'd, and we did buffet it
- With lusty sinews, throwing it aside
- And stemming it with hearts of controversy.
- But ere we could arrive the point proposed,
- Caesar cried, "Help me, Cassius, or I sink!
- I, as Aeneas our great ancestor
- Did from the flames of Troy upon his shoulder
- The old Anchises bear, so from the waves of Tiber
- Did I the tired Caesar. And this man
- Is now become a god, and Cassius is
- A wretched creature and must bend his body
- If Caesar carelessly but nod on him.
- He had a fever when he was in Spain,
- And when the fit was on him I did mark
- How he did shake. 'Tis true, this god did shake;
- His coward lips did from their color fly,
- And that same eye whose bend doth awe the world
- Did lose his luster. I did hear him groan.
- Ay, and that tongue of his that bade the Romans
- Mark him and write his speeches in their books,
- Alas, it cried, "Give me some drink, Titinius,"
- As a sick girl. Ye gods! It doth amaze me
- A man of such a feeble temper should
- So get the start of the majestic world
- And bear the palm alone. Shout. Flourish.
- BRUTUS. Another general shout!
- I do believe that these applauses are
- For some new honors that are heap'd on Caesar.
- CASSIUS. Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world
- Like a Colossus, and we petty men
- Walk under his huge legs and peep about
- To find ourselves dishonorable graves.
- Men at some time are masters of their fates:
- The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars,
- But in ourselves that we are underlings.
- Brutus and Caesar: what should be in that "Caesar"?
- Why should that name be sounded more than yours?
- Write them together, yours is as fair a name;
- Sound them, it doth become the mouth as well;
- Weigh them, it is as heavy; conjure with 'em,
- "Brutus" will start a spirit as soon as "Caesar."
- Now, in the names of all the gods at once,
- Upon what meat doth this our Caesar feed
- That he is grown so great? Age, thou art shamed!
- Rome, thou hast lost the breed of noble bloods!
- When went there by an age since the great flood
- But it was famed with more than with one man?
- When could they say till now that talk'd of Rome
- That her wide walls encompass'd but one man?
- Now is it Rome indeed, and room enough,
- When there is in it but one only man.
- O, you and I have heard our fathers say
- There was a Brutus once that would have brook'd
- The eternal devil to keep his state in Rome
- As easily as a king.
- BRUTUS. That you do love me, I am nothing jealous;
- What you would work me to, I have some aim.
- How I have thought of this and of these times,
- I shall recount hereafter; for this present,
- I would not, so with love I might entreat you,
- Be any further moved. What you have said
- I will consider; what you have to say
- I will with patience hear, and find a time
- Both meet to hear and answer such high things.
- Till then, my noble friend, chew upon this:
- Brutus had rather be a villager
- Than to repute himself a son of Rome
- Under these hard conditions as this time
- Is like to lay upon us.
- CASSIUS. I am glad that my weak words
- Have struck but thus much show of fire from Brutus.
-
- Re-enter Caesar and his Train.
-
- BRUTUS. The games are done, and Caesar is returning.
- CASSIUS. As they pass by, pluck Casca by the sleeve,
- And he will, after his sour fashion, tell you
- What hath proceeded worthy note today.
- BRUTUS. I will do so. But, look you, Cassius,
- The angry spot doth glow on Caesar's brow,
- And all the rest look like a chidden train:
- Calpurnia's cheek is pale, and Cicero
- Looks with such ferret and such fiery eyes
- As we have seen him in the Capitol,
- Being cross'd in conference by some senators.
- CASSIUS. Casca will tell us what the matter is.
- CAESAR. Antonio!
- ANTONY. Caesar?
- CAESAR. Let me have men about me that are fat,
- Sleek-headed men, and such as sleep o' nights:
- Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look;
- He thinks too much; such men are dangerous.
- ANTONY. Fear him not, Caesar; he's not dangerous;
- He is a noble Roman and well given.
- CAESAR. Would he were fatter! But I fear him not,
- Yet if my name were liable to fear,
- I do not know the man I should avoid
- So soon as that spare Cassius. He reads much,
- He is a great observer, and he looks
- Quite through the deeds of men. He loves no plays,
- As thou dost, Antony; he hears no music;
- Seldom he smiles, and smiles in such a sort
- As if he mock'd himself and scorn'd his spirit
- That could be moved to smile at anything.
- Such men as he be never at heart's ease
- Whiles they behold a greater than themselves,
- And therefore are they very dangerous.
- I rather tell thee what is to be fear'd
- Than what I fear, for always I am Caesar.
- Come on my right hand, for this ear is deaf,
- And tell me truly what thou think'st of him.
- Sennet. Exeunt Caesar and all his Train but Casca.
- CASCA. You pull'd me by the cloak; would you speak with me?
- BRUTUS. Ay, Casca, tell us what hath chanced today
- That Caesar looks so sad.
- CASCA. Why, you were with him, were you not?
- BRUTUS. I should not then ask Casca what had chanced.
- CASCA. Why, there was a crown offered him, and being offered him,
- he put it by with the back of his hand, thus, and then the
- people fell ashouting.
- BRUTUS. What was the second noise for?
- CASCA. Why, for that too.
- CASSIUS. They shouted thrice. What was the last cry for?
- CASCA. Why, for that too.
- BRUTUS. Was the crown offered him thrice?
- CASCA. Ay, marry, wast, and he put it by thrice, every time gentler
- than other, and at every putting by mine honest neighbors
- shouted.
- CASSIUS. Who offered him the crown?
- CASCA. Why, Antony.
- BRUTUS. Tell us the manner of it, gentle Casca.
- CASCA. I can as well be hang'd as tell the manner of it. It was
- mere foolery; I did not mark it. I saw Mark Antony offer him a
- crown (yet 'twas not a crown neither, 'twas one of these
- coronets) and, as I told you, he put it by once. But for all
- that, to my thinking, he would fain have had it. Then he offered
- it to him again; then he put it by again. But, to my thinking, he
- was very loath to lay his fingers off it. And then he offered it
- the third time; he put it the third time by; and still as he
- refused it, the rabblement hooted and clapped their chopped hands
- and threw up their sweaty nightcaps and uttered such a deal of
- stinking breath because Caesar refused the crown that it had
- almost choked Caesar, for he swounded and fell down at it. And
- for mine own part, I durst not laugh for fear of opening my lips
- and receiving the bad air.
- CASSIUS. But, soft, I pray you, what, did Caesars wound?
- CASCA. He fell down in the marketplace and foamed at mouth and was
- speechless.
- BRUTUS. 'Tis very like. He hath the falling sickness.
- CASSIUS. No, Caesar hath it not, but you, and I,
- And honest Casca, we have the falling sickness.
- CASCA. I know not what you mean by that, but I am sure Caesar fell
- down. If the tagrag people did not clap him and hiss him
- according as he pleased and displeased them, as they use to do
- the players in the theatre, I am no true man.
- BRUTUS. What said he when he came unto himself?
- CASCA. Marry, before he fell down, when he perceived the common
- herd was glad he refused the crown, he plucked me ope his doublet
- and offered them his throat to cut. An had been a man of any
- occupation, if I would not have taken him at a word, I would I
- might go to hell among the rogues. And so he fell. When he came
- to himself again, he said, if he had done or said anything amiss,
- he desired their worships to think it was his infirmity. Three or
- four wenches where I stood cried, "Alas, good soul!" and forgave
- him with all their hearts. But there's no heed to be taken of
- them; if Caesar had stabbed their mothers, they would have done
- no less.
- BRUTUS. And after that he came, thus sad, away?
- CASCA. Ay.
- CASSIUS. Did Cicero say anything?
- CASCA. Ay, he spoke Greek.
- CASSIUS. To what effect?
- CASCA. Nay, an I tell you that, I'll ne'er look you i' the face
- again; but those that understood him smiled at one another and
- shook their heads; but for mine own part, it was Greek to me. I
- could tell you more news too: Marullus and Flavius, for pulling
- scarfs off Caesar's images, are put to silence. Fare you well.
- There was more foolery yet, if could remember it.
- CASSIUS. Will you sup with me tonight, Casca?
- CASCA. No, I am promised forth.
- CASSIUS. Will you dine with me tomorrow?
- CASCA. Ay, if I be alive, and your mind hold, and your dinner worth
- the eating.
- CASSIUS. Good, I will expect you.
- CASCA. Do so, farewell, both. Exit.
- BRUTUS. What a blunt fellow is this grown to be!
- He was quick mettle when he went to school.
- CASSIUS. So is he now in execution
- Of any bold or noble enterprise,
- However he puts on this tardy form.
- This rudeness is a sauce to his good wit,
- Which gives men stomach to digest his words
- With better appetite.
- BRUTUS. And so it is. For this time I will leave you.
- Tomorrow, if you please to speak with me,
- I will come home to you, or, if you will,
- Come home to me and I will wait for you.
- CASSIUS. I will do so. Till then, think of the world.
- Exit Brutus.
- Well, Brutus, thou art noble; yet, I see
- Thy honorable mettle may be wrought
- From that it is disposed; therefore it is meet
- That noble minds keep ever with their likes;
- For who so firm that cannot be seduced?
- Caesar doth bear me hard, but he loves Brutus.
- If I were Brutus now and he were Cassius,
- He should not humor me. I will this night,
- In several hands, in at his windows throw,
- As if they came from several citizens,
- Writings, all tending to the great opinion
- That Rome holds of his name, wherein obscurely
- Caesar's ambition shall be glanced at.
- And after this let Caesar seat him sure;
- For we will shake him, or worse days endure. Exit.
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-A street. Thunder and lightning.
-
-Enter, from opposite sides, Casca, with his sword drawn, and Cicero.
-
- CICERO. Good even, Casca. Brought you Caesar home?
- Why are you breathless, and why stare you so?
- CASCA. Are not you moved, when all the sway of earth
- Shakes like a thing unfirm? O Cicero,
- I have seen tempests when the scolding winds
- Have rived the knotty oaks, and I have seen
- The ambitious ocean swell and rage and foam
- To be exalted with the threatening clouds,
- But never till tonight, never till now,
- Did I go through a tempest dropping fire.
- Either there is a civil strife in heaven,
- Or else the world too saucy with the gods
- Incenses them to send destruction.
- CICERO. Why, saw you anything more wonderful?
- CASCA. A common slave- you know him well by sight-
- Held up his left hand, which did flame and burn
- Like twenty torches join'd, and yet his hand
- Not sensible of fire remain'd unscorch'd.
- Besides- I ha' not since put up my sword-
- Against the Capitol I met a lion,
- Who glaz'd upon me and went surly by
- Without annoying me. And there were drawn
- Upon a heap a hundred ghastly women
- Transformed with their fear, who swore they saw
- Men all in fire walk up and down the streets.
- And yesterday the bird of night did sit
- Even at noonday upon the marketplace,
- Howling and shrieking. When these prodigies
- Do so conjointly meet, let not men say
- "These are their reasons; they are natural":
- For I believe they are portentous things
- Unto the climate that they point upon.
- CICERO. Indeed, it is a strange-disposed time.
- But men may construe things after their fashion,
- Clean from the purpose of the things themselves.
- Comes Caesar to the Capitol tomorrow?
- CASCA. He doth, for he did bid Antonio
- Send word to you he would be there tomorrow.
- CICERO. Good then, Casca. This disturbed sky
- Is not to walk in.
- CASCA. Farewell, Cicero. Exit Cicero.
-
- Enter Cassius.
-
- CASSIUS. Who's there?
- CASCA. A Roman.
- CASSIUS. Casca, by your voice.
- CASCA. Your ear is good. Cassius, what night is this!
- CASSIUS. A very pleasing night to honest men.
- CASCA. Who ever knew the heavens menace so?
- CASSIUS. Those that have known the earth so full of faults.
- For my part, I have walk'd about the streets,
- Submitting me unto the perilous night,
- And thus unbraced, Casca, as you see,
- Have bared my bosom to the thunderstone;
- And when the cross blue lightning seem'd to open
- The breast of heaven, I did present myself
- Even in the aim and very flash of it.
- CASCA. But wherefore did you so much tempt the heavens?
- It is the part of men to fear and tremble
- When the most mighty gods by tokens send
- Such dreadful heralds to astonish us.
- CASSIUS. You are dull, Casca, and those sparks of life
- That should be in a Roman you do want,
- Or else you use not. You look pale and gaze
- And put on fear and cast yourself in wonder
- To see the strange impatience of the heavens.
- But if you would consider the true cause
- Why all these fires, why all these gliding ghosts,
- Why birds and beasts from quality and kind,
- Why old men, fools, and children calculate,
- Why all these things change from their ordinance,
- Their natures, and preformed faculties
- To monstrous quality, why, you shall find
- That heaven hath infused them with these spirits
- To make them instruments of fear and warning
- Unto some monstrous state.
- Now could I, Casca, name to thee a man
- Most like this dreadful night,
- That thunders, lightens, opens graves, and roars
- As doth the lion in the Capitol,
- A man no mightier than thyself or me
- In personal action, yet prodigious grown
- And fearful, as these strange eruptions are.
- CASCA. 'Tis Caesar that you mean, is it not, Cassius?
- CASSIUS. Let it be who it is, for Romans now
- Have thews and limbs like to their ancestors.
- But, woe the while! Our fathers' minds are dead,
- And we are govern'd with our mothers' spirits;
- Our yoke and sufferance show us womanish.
- CASCA. Indeed they say the senators tomorrow
- Mean to establish Caesar as a king,
- And he shall wear his crown by sea and land
- In every place save here in Italy.
- CASSIUS. I know where I will wear this dagger then:
- Cassius from bondage will deliver Cassius.
- Therein, ye gods, you make the weak most strong;
- Therein, ye gods, you tyrants do defeat.
- Nor stony tower, nor walls of beaten brass,
- Nor airless dungeon, nor strong links of iron
- Can be retentive to the strength of spirit;
- But life, being weary of these worldly bars,
- Never lacks power to dismiss itself.
- If I know this, know all the world besides,
- That part of tyranny that I do bear
- I can shake off at pleasure. Thunder still.
- CASCA. So can I.
- So every bondman in his own hand bears
- The power to cancel his captivity.
- CASSIUS. And why should Caesar be a tyrant then?
- Poor man! I know he would not be a wolf
- But that he sees the Romans are but sheep.
- He were no lion, were not Romans hinds.
- Those that with haste will make a mighty fire
- Begin it with weak straws. What trash is Rome,
- What rubbish, and what offal, when it serves
- For the base matter to illuminate
- So vile a thing as Caesar? But, O grief,
- Where hast thou led me? I perhaps speak this
- Before a willing bondman; then I know
- My answer must be made. But I am arm'd,
- And dangers are to me indifferent.
- CASCA. You speak to Casca, and to such a man
- That is no fleering tell-tale. Hold, my hand.
- Be factious for redress of all these griefs,
- And I will set this foot of mine as far
- As who goes farthest.
- CASSIUS. There's a bargain made.
- Now know you, Casca, I have moved already
- Some certain of the noblest-minded Romans
- To undergo with me an enterprise
- Of honorable-dangerous consequence;
- And I do know by this, they stay for me
- In Pompey's Porch. For now, this fearful night,
- There is no stir or walking in the streets,
- And the complexion of the element
- In favor's like the work we have in hand,
- Most bloody, fiery, and most terrible.
-
- Enter Cinna.
-
- CASCA. Stand close awhile, for here comes one in haste.
- CASSIUS. 'Tis Cinna, I do know him by his gait;
- He is a friend. Cinna, where haste you so?
- CINNA. To find out you. Who's that? Metellus Cimber?
- CASSIUS. No, it is Casca, one incorporate
- To our attempts. Am I not stay'd for, Cinna?
- CINNA. I am glad on't. What a fearful night is this!
- There's two or three of us have seen strange sights.
- CASSIUS. Am I not stay'd for? Tell me.
- CINNA. Yes, you are.
- O Cassius, if you could
- But win the noble Brutus to our party-
- CASSIUS. Be you content. Good Cinna, take this paper,
- And look you lay it in the praetor's chair,
- Where Brutus may but find it; and throw this
- In at his window; set this up with wax
- Upon old Brutus' statue. All this done,
- Repair to Pompey's Porch, where you shall find us.
- Is Decius Brutus and Trebonius there?
- CINNA. All but Metellus Cimber, and he's gone
- To seek you at your house. Well, I will hie
- And so bestow these papers as you bade me.
- CASSIUS. That done, repair to Pompey's Theatre.
- Exit Cinna.
- Come, Casca, you and I will yet ere day
- See Brutus at his house. Three parts of him
- Is ours already, and the man entire
- Upon the next encounter yields him ours.
- CASCA. O, he sits high in all the people's hearts,
- And that which would appear offense in us,
- His countenance, like richest alchemy,
- Will change to virtue and to worthiness.
- CASSIUS. Him and his worth and our great need of him
- You have right well conceited. Let us go,
- For it is after midnight, and ere day
- We will awake him and be sure of him. Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT II. SCENE I.
-
-Enter Brutus in his orchard.
-
- BRUTUS. What, Lucius, ho!
- I cannot, by the progress of the stars,
- Give guess how near to day. Lucius, I say!
- I would it were my fault to sleep so soundly.
- When, Lucius, when? Awake, I say! What, Lucius!
-
- Enter Lucius.
-
- LUCIUS. Call'd you, my lord?
- BRUTUS. Get me a taper in my study, Lucius.
- When it is lighted, come and call me here.
- LUCIUS. I will, my lord. Exit.
- BRUTUS. It must be by his death, and, for my part,
- I know no personal cause to spurn at him,
- But for the general. He would be crown'd:
- How that might change his nature, there's the question.
- It is the bright day that brings forth the adder
- And that craves wary walking. Crown him that,
- And then, I grant, we put a sting in him
- That at his will he may do danger with.
- The abuse of greatness is when it disjoins
- Remorse from power, and, to speak truth of Caesar,
- I have not known when his affections sway'd
- More than his reason. But 'tis a common proof
- That lowliness is young ambition's ladder,
- Whereto the climber-upward turns his face;
- But when he once attains the upmost round,
- He then unto the ladder turns his back,
- Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees
- By which he did ascend. So Caesar may;
- Then, lest he may, prevent. And, since the quarrel
- Will bear no color for the thing he is,
- Fashion it thus, that what he is, augmented,
- Would run to these and these extremities;
- And therefore think him as a serpent's egg
- Which hatch'd would as his kind grow mischievous,
- And kill him in the shell.
-
- Re-enter Lucius.
-
- LUCIUS. The taper burneth in your closet, sir.
- Searching the window for a flint I found
- This paper thus seal'd up, and I am sure
- It did not lie there when I went to bed.
- Gives him the letter.
- BRUTUS. Get you to bed again, it is not day.
- Is not tomorrow, boy, the ides of March?
- LUCIUS. I know not, sir.
- BRUTUS. Look in the calendar and bring me word.
- LUCIUS. I will, sir. Exit.
- BRUTUS. The exhalations whizzing in the air
- Give so much light that I may read by them.
- Opens the letter and reads.
- "Brutus, thou sleep'st: awake and see thyself!
- Shall Rome, etc. Speak, strike, redress!"
-
- "Brutus, thou sleep'st: awake!"
- Such instigations have been often dropp'd
- Where I have took them up.
- "Shall Rome, etc." Thus must I piece it out.
- Shall Rome stand under one man's awe? What, Rome?
- My ancestors did from the streets of Rome
- The Tarquin drive, when he was call'd a king.
- "Speak, strike, redress!" Am I entreated
- To speak and strike? O Rome, I make thee promise,
- If the redress will follow, thou receivest
- Thy full petition at the hand of Brutus!
-
- Re-enter Lucius.
-
- LUCIUS. Sir, March is wasted fifteen days.
- Knocking within.
- BRUTUS. 'Tis good. Go to the gate, somebody knocks.
- Exit Lucius.
- Since Cassius first did whet me against Caesar
- I have not slept.
- Between the acting of a dreadful thing
- And the first motion, all the interim is
- Like a phantasma or a hideous dream;
- The genius and the mortal instruments
- Are then in council, and the state of man,
- Like to a little kingdom, suffers then
- The nature of an insurrection.
-
- Re-enter Lucius.
-
- LUCIUS. Sir, 'tis your brother Cassius at the door,
- Who doth desire to see you.
- BRUTUS. Is he alone?
- LUCIUS. No, sir, there are more with him.
- BRUTUS. Do you know them?
- LUCIUS. No, sir, their hats are pluck'd about their ears,
- And half their faces buried in their cloaks,
- That by no means I may discover them
- By any mark of favor.
- BRUTUS. Let 'em enter. Exit Lucius.
- They are the faction. O Conspiracy,
- Shamest thou to show thy dangerous brow by night,
- When evils are most free? O, then, by day
- Where wilt thou find a cavern dark enough
- To mask thy monstrous visage? Seek none, Conspiracy;
- Hide it in smiles and affability;
- For if thou path, thy native semblance on,
- Not Erebus itself were dim enough
- To hide thee from prevention.
-
- Enter the conspirators, Cassius, Casca, Decius, Cinna,
- Metellus Cimber, and Trebonius.
-
- CASSIUS. I think we are too bold upon your rest.
- Good morrow, Brutus, do we trouble you?
- BRUTUS. I have been up this hour, awake all night.
- Know I these men that come along with you?
- CASSIUS. Yes, every man of them, and no man here
- But honors you, and every one doth wish
- You had but that opinion of yourself
- Which every noble Roman bears of you.
- This is Trebonius.
- BRUTUS. He is welcome hither.
- CASSIUS. This, Decius Brutus.
- BRUTUS. He is welcome too.
-CASSIUS. This, Casca; this, Cinna; and this, Metellus Cimber.
- BRUTUS. They are all welcome.
- What watchful cares do interpose themselves
- Betwixt your eyes and night?
- CASSIUS. Shall I entreat a word? They whisper.
- DECIUS. Here lies the east. Doth not the day break here?
- CASCA. No.
- CINNA. O, pardon, sir, it doth, and yongrey lines
- That fret the clouds are messengers of day.
- CASCA. You shall confess that you are both deceived.
- Here, as I point my sword, the sun arises,
- Which is a great way growing on the south,
- Weighing the youthful season of the year.
- Some two months hence up higher toward the north
- He first presents his fire, and the high east
- Stands as the Capitol, directly here.
- BRUTUS. Give me your hands all over, one by one.
- CASSIUS. And let us swear our resolution.
- BRUTUS. No, not an oath. If not the face of men,
- The sufferance of our souls, the time's abuse-
- If these be motives weak, break off betimes,
- And every man hence to his idle bed;
- So let high-sighted tyranny range on
- Till each man drop by lottery. But if these,
- As I am sure they do, bear fire enough
- To kindle cowards and to steel with valor
- The melting spirits of women, then, countrymen,
- What need we any spur but our own cause
- To prick us to redress? What other bond
- Than secret Romans that have spoke the word
- And will not palter? And what other oath
- Than honesty to honesty engaged
- That this shall be or we will fall for it?
- Swear priests and cowards and men cautelous,
- Old feeble carrions and such suffering souls
- That welcome wrongs; unto bad causes swear
- Such creatures as men doubt; but do not stain
- The even virtue of our enterprise,
- Nor the insuppressive mettle of our spirits,
- To think that or our cause or our performance
- Did need an oath; when every drop of blood
- That every Roman bears, and nobly bears,
- Is guilty of a several bastardy
- If he do break the smallest particle
- Of any promise that hath pass'd from him.
- CASSIUS. But what of Cicero? Shall we sound him?
- I think he will stand very strong with us.
- CASCA. Let us not leave him out.
- CINNA. No, by no means.
- METELLUS. O, let us have him, for his silver hairs
- Will purchase us a good opinion,
- And buy men's voices to commend our deeds.
- It shall be said his judgement ruled our hands;
- Our youths and wildness shall no whit appear,
- But all be buried in his gravity.
- BRUTUS. O, name him not; let us not break with him,
- For he will never follow anything
- That other men begin.
- CASSIUS. Then leave him out.
- CASCA. Indeed he is not fit.
- DECIUS. Shall no man else be touch'd but only Caesar?
- CASSIUS. Decius, well urged. I think it is not meet
- Mark Antony, so well beloved of Caesar,
- Should outlive Caesar. We shall find of him
- A shrewd contriver; and you know his means,
- If he improve them, may well stretch so far
- As to annoy us all, which to prevent,
- Let Antony and Caesar fall together.
- BRUTUS. Our course will seem too bloody, Caius Cassius,
- To cut the head off and then hack the limbs
- Like wrath in death and envy afterwards;
- For Antony is but a limb of Caesar.
- Let us be sacrificers, but not butchers, Caius.
- We all stand up against the spirit of Caesar,
- And in the spirit of men there is no blood.
- O, that we then could come by Caesar's spirit,
- And not dismember Caesar! But, alas,
- Caesar must bleed for it! And, gentle friends,
- Let's kill him boldly, but not wrathfully;
- Let's carve him as a dish fit for the gods,
- Not hew him as a carcass fit for hounds;
- And let our hearts, as subtle masters do,
- Stir up their servants to an act of rage
- And after seem to chide 'em. This shall make
- Our purpose necessary and not envious,
- Which so appearing to the common eyes,
- We shall be call'd purgers, not murderers.
- And for Mark Antony, think not of him,
- For he can do no more than Caesar's arm
- When Caesar's head is off.
- CASSIUS. Yet I fear him,
- For in the ingrated love he bears to Caesar-
- BRUTUS. Alas, good Cassius, do not think of him.
- If he love Caesar, all that he can do
- Is to himself, take thought and die for Caesar.
- And that were much he should, for he is given
- To sports, to wildness, and much company.
- TREBONIUS. There is no fear in him-let him not die,
- For he will live and laugh at this hereafter.
- Clock strikes.
- BRUTUS. Peace, count the clock.
- CASSIUS. The clock hath stricken three.
- TREBONIUS. 'Tis time to part.
- CASSIUS. But it is doubtful yet
- Whether Caesar will come forth today or no,
- For he is superstitious grown of late,
- Quite from the main opinion he held once
- Of fantasy, of dreams, and ceremonies.
- It may be these apparent prodigies,
- The unaccustom'd terror of this night,
- And the persuasion of his augurers
- May hold him from the Capitol today.
- DECIUS. Never fear that. If he be so resolved,
- I can o'ersway him, for he loves to hear
- That unicorns may be betray'd with trees,
- And bears with glasses, elephants with holes,
- Lions with toils, and men with flatterers;
- But when I tell him he hates flatterers,
- He says he does, being then most flattered.
- Let me work;
- For I can give his humor the true bent,
- And I will bring him to the Capitol.
- CASSIUS. Nay, we will all of us be there to fetch him.
- BRUTUS. By the eighth hour. Is that the utter most?
- CINNA. Be that the uttermost, and fail not then.
- METELLUS. Caius Ligarius doth bear Caesar hard,
- Who rated him for speaking well of Pompey.
- I wonder none of you have thought of him.
- BRUTUS. Now, good Metellus, go along by him.
- He loves me well, and I have given him reasons;
- Send him but hither, and I'll fashion him.
- CASSIUS. The morning comes upon 's. We'll leave you, Brutus,
- And, friends, disperse yourselves, but all remember
- What you have said and show yourselves true Romans.
- BRUTUS. Good gentlemen, look fresh and merrily;
- Let not our looks put on our purposes,
- But bear it as our Roman actors do,
- With untired spirits and formal constancy.
- And so, good morrow to you every one.
- Exeunt all but Brutus.
- Boy! Lucius! Fast asleep? It is no matter.
- Enjoy the honey-heavy dew of slumber;
- Thou hast no figures nor no fantasies,
- Which busy care draws in the brains of men;
- Therefore thou sleep'st so sound.
-
- Enter Portia.
-
- PORTIA. Brutus, my lord!
- BRUTUS. Portia, what mean you? Wherefore rise you now?
- It is not for your health thus to commit
- Your weak condition to the raw cold morning.
- PORTIA. Nor for yours neither. have ungently, Brutus,
- Stole from my bed; and yesternight at supper
- You suddenly arose and walk'd about,
- Musing and sighing, with your arms across;
- And when I ask'd you what the matter was,
- You stared upon me with ungentle looks.
- I urged you further; then you scratch'd your head,
- And too impatiently stamp'd with your foot.
- Yet I insisted, yet you answer'd not,
- But with an angry waiter of your hand
- Gave sign for me to leave you. So I did,
- Fearing to strengthen that impatience
- Which seem'd too much enkindled, and withal
- Hoping it was but an effect of humor,
- Which sometime hath his hour with every man.
- It will not let you eat, nor talk, nor sleep,
- And, could it work so much upon your shape
- As it hath much prevail'd on your condition,
- I should not know you, Brutus. Dear my lord,
- Make me acquainted with your cause of grief.
- BRUTUS. I am not well in health, and that is all.
- PORTIA. Brutus is wise, and, were he not in health,
- He would embrace the means to come by it.
- BRUTUS. Why, so I do. Good Portia, go to bed.
- PORTIA. Is Brutus sick, and is it physical
- To walk unbraced and suck up the humors
- Of the dank morning? What, is Brutus sick,
- And will he steal out of his wholesome bed
- To dare the vile contagion of the night
- And tempt the rheumy and unpurged air
- To add unto his sickness? No, my Brutus,
- You have some sick offense within your mind,
- Which by the right and virtue of my place
- I ought to know of; and, upon my knees,
- I charm you, by my once commended beauty,
- By all your vows of love and that great vow
- Which did incorporate and make us one,
- That you unfold to me, yourself, your half,
- Why you are heavy and what men tonight
- Have had resort to you; for here have been
- Some six or seven, who did hide their faces
- Even from darkness.
- BRUTUS. Kneel not, gentle Portia.
- PORTIA. I should not need, if you were gentle Brutus.
- Within the bond of marriage, tell me, Brutus,
- Is it excepted I should know no secrets
- That appertain to you? Am I yourself
- But, as it were, in sort or limitation,
- To keep with you at meals, comfort your bed,
- And talk to you sometimes? Dwell I but in the suburbs
- Of your good pleasure? If it be no more,
- Portia is Brutus' harlot, not his wife.
- BRUTUS. You are my true and honorable wife,
- As dear to me as are the ruddy drops
- That visit my sad heart.
- PORTIA. If this were true, then should I know this secret.
- I grant I am a woman, but withal
- A woman that Lord Brutus took to wife.
- I grant I am a woman, but withal
- A woman well reputed, Cato's daughter.
- Think you I am no stronger than my sex,
- Being so father'd and so husbanded?
- Tell me your counsels, I will not disclose 'em.
- I have made strong proof of my constancy,
- Giving myself a voluntary wound
- Here in the thigh. Can I bear that with patience
- And not my husband's secrets?
- BRUTUS. O ye gods,
- Render me worthy of this noble wife! Knocking within.
- Hark, hark, one knocks. Portia, go in awhile,
- And by and by thy bosom shall partake
- The secrets of my heart.
- All my engagements I will construe to thee,
- All the charactery of my sad brows.
- Leave me with haste. [Exit Portia.] Lucius, who's that knocks?
-
- Re-enter Lucius with Ligarius.
-
- LUCIUS. Here is a sick man that would speak with you.
- BRUTUS. Caius Ligarius, that Metellus spake of.
- Boy, stand aside. Caius Ligarius, how?
- LIGARIUS. Vouchsafe good morrow from a feeble tongue.
- BRUTUS. O, what a time have you chose out, brave Caius,
- To wear a kerchief! Would you were not sick!
- LIGARIUS. I am not sick, if Brutus have in hand
- Any exploit worthy the name of honor.
- BRUTUS. Such an exploit have I in hand, Ligarius,
- Had you a healthful ear to hear of it.
- LIGARIUS. By all the gods that Romans bow before,
- I here discard my sickness! Soul of Rome!
- Brave son, derived from honorable loins!
- Thou, like an exorcist, hast conjured up
- My mortified spirit. Now bid me run,
- And I will strive with things impossible,
- Yea, get the better of them. What's to do?
- BRUTUS. A piece of work that will make sick men whole.
- LIGARIUS. But are not some whole that we must make sick?
- BRUTUS. That must we also. What it is, my Caius,
- I shall unfold to thee, as we are going
- To whom it must be done.
- LIGARIUS. Set on your foot,
- And with a heart new-fired I follow you,
- To do I know not what; but it sufficeth
- That Brutus leads me on.
- BRUTUS. Follow me then. Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-Caesar's house. Thunder and lightning.
-
-Enter Caesar, in his nightgown.
-
- CAESAR. Nor heaven nor earth have been at peace tonight.
- Thrice hath Calpurnia in her sleep cried out,
- "Help, ho! They murther Caesar!" Who's within?
-
- Enter a Servant.
-
- SERVANT. My lord?
- CAESAR. Go bid the priests do present sacrifice,
- And bring me their opinions of success.
- SERVANT. I will, my lord. Exit.
-
- Enter Calpurnia.
-
- CALPURNIA. What mean you, Caesar? Think you to walk forth?
- You shall not stir out of your house today.
- CAESAR. Caesar shall forth: the things that threaten'd me
- Ne'er look'd but on my back; when they shall see
- The face of Caesar, they are vanished.
- CALPURNIA. Caesar, I I stood on ceremonies,
- Yet now they fright me. There is one within,
- Besides the things that we have heard and seen,
- Recounts most horrid sights seen by the watch.
- A lioness hath whelped in the streets;
- And graves have yawn'd, and yielded up their dead;
- Fierce fiery warriors fight upon the clouds,
- In ranks and squadrons and right form of war,
- Which drizzled blood upon the Capitol;
- The noise of battle hurtled in the air,
- Horses did neigh and dying men did groan,
- And ghosts did shriek and squeal about the streets.
- O Caesar! These things are beyond all use,
- And I do fear them.
- CAESAR. What can be avoided
- Whose end is purposed by the mighty gods?
- Yet Caesar shall go forth, for these predictions
- Are to the world in general as to Caesar.
- CALPURNIA. When beggars die, there are no comets seen;
- The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes.
- CAESAR. Cowards die many times before their deaths;
- The valiant never taste of death but once.
- Of all the wonders that I yet have heard,
- It seems to me most strange that men should fear
- Seeing that death, a necessary end,
- Will come when it will come.
-
- Re-enter Servant.
-
- What say the augurers?
- SERVANT. They would not have you to stir forth today.
- Plucking the entrails of an offering forth,
- They could not find a heart within the beast.
- CAESAR. The gods do this in shame of cowardice.
- Caesar should be a beast without a heart
- If he should stay at home today for fear.
- No, Caesar shall not. Danger knows full well
- That Caesar is more dangerous than he.
- We are two lions litter'd in one day,
- And I the elder and more terrible.
- And Caesar shall go forth.
- CALPURNIA. Alas, my lord,
- Your wisdom is consumed in confidence.
- Do not go forth today. Call it my fear
- That keeps you in the house and not your own.
- We'll send Mark Antony to the Senate House,
- And he shall say you are not well today.
- Let me, upon my knee, prevail in this.
- CAESAR. Mark Antony shall say I am not well,
- And, for thy humor, I will stay at home.
-
- Enter Decius.
-
- Here's Decius Brutus, he shall tell them so.
- DECIUS. Caesar, all hail! Good morrow, worthy Caesar!
- I come to fetch you to the Senate House.
- CAESAR. And you are come in very happy time
- To bear my greeting to the senators
- And tell them that I will not come today.
- Cannot, is false, and that I dare not, falser:
- I will not come today. Tell them so, Decius.
- CALPURNIA. Say he is sick.
- CAESAR. Shall Caesar send a lie?
- Have I in conquest stretch'd mine arm so far
- To be afeard to tell greybeards the truth?
- Decius, go tell them Caesar will not come.
- DECIUS. Most mighty Caesar, let me know some cause,
- Lest I be laugh'd at when I tell them so.
- CAESAR. The cause is in my will: I will not come,
- That is enough to satisfy the Senate.
- But, for your private satisfaction,
- Because I love you, I will let you know.
- Calpurnia here, my wife, stays me at home;
- She dreamt tonight she saw my statue,
- Which, like a fountain with an hundred spouts,
- Did run pure blood, and many lusty Romans
- Came smiling and did bathe their hands in it.
- And these does she apply for warnings and portents
- And evils imminent, and on her knee
- Hath begg'd that I will stay at home today.
- DECIUS. This dream is all amiss interpreted;
- It was a vision fair and fortunate.
- Your statue spouting blood in many pipes,
- In which so many smiling Romans bathed,
- Signifies that from you great Rome shall suck
- Reviving blood, and that great men shall press
- For tinctures, stains, relics, and cognizance.
- This by Calpurnia's dream is signified.
- CAESAR. And this way have you well expounded it.
- DECIUS. I have, when you have heard what I can say.
- And know it now, the Senate have concluded
- To give this day a crown to mighty Caesar.
- If you shall send them word you will not come,
- Their minds may change. Besides, it were a mock
- Apt to be render'd, for someone to say
- "Break up the Senate till another time,
- When Caesar's wife shall meet with better dreams."
- If Caesar hide himself, shall they not whisper
- "Lo, Caesar is afraid"?
- Pardon me, Caesar, for my dear dear love
- To your proceeding bids me tell you this,
- And reason to my love is liable.
- CAESAR. How foolish do your fears seem now, Calpurnia!
- I am ashamed I did yield to them.
- Give me my robe, for I will go.
-
- Enter Publius, Brutus, Ligarius, Metellus, Casca,
- Trebonius, and Cinna.
-
- And look where Publius is come to fetch me.
- PUBLIUS. Good morrow,Caesar.
- CAESAR. Welcome, Publius.
- What, Brutus, are you stirr'd so early too?
- Good morrow, Casca. Caius Ligarius,
- Caesar was ne'er so much your enemy
- As that same ague which hath made you lean.
- What is't o'clock?
- BRUTUS. Caesar, 'tis strucken eight.
- CAESAR. I thank you for your pains and courtesy.
-
- Enter Antony.
-
- See, Antony, that revels long o' nights,
- Is notwithstanding up. Good morrow, Antony.
- ANTONY. So to most noble Caesar.
- CAESAR. Bid them prepare within.
- I am to blame to be thus waited for.
- Now, Cinna; now, Metellus; what, Trebonius,
- I have an hour's talk in store for you;
- Remember that you call on me today;
- Be near me, that I may remember you.
- TREBONIUS. Caesar, I will. [Aside.] And so near will I be
- That your best friends shall wish I had been further.
- CAESAR. Good friends, go in and taste some wine with me,
- And we like friends will straightway go together.
- BRUTUS. [Aside.] That every like is not the same, O Caesar,
- The heart of Brutus yearns to think upon! Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-A street near the Capitol.
-
-Enter Artemidorus, reading paper.
-
- ARTEMIDORUS. "Caesar, beware of Brutus; take heed of Cassius; come
- not near Casca; have an eye to Cinna; trust not Trebonius; mark
- well Metellus Cimber; Decius Brutus loves thee not; thou hast
- wronged Caius Ligarius. There is but one mind in all these men,
- and it is bent against Caesar. If thou beest not immortal, look
- about you. Security gives way to conspiracy. The mighty gods
- defend thee!
- Thy lover, Artemidorus."
- Here will I stand till Caesar pass along,
- And as a suitor will I give him this.
- My heart laments that virtue cannot live
- Out of the teeth of emulation.
- If thou read this, O Caesar, thou mayest live;
- If not, the Fates with traitors do contrive. Exit.
-
-
-
-
-SCENE IV.
-Another part of the same street, before the house of Brutus.
-
-Enter Portia and Lucius.
-
- PORTIA. I prithee, boy, run to the Senate House;
- Stay not to answer me, but get thee gone.
- Why dost thou stay?
- LUCIUS. To know my errand, madam.
- PORTIA. I would have had thee there, and here again,
- Ere I can tell thee what thou shouldst do there.
- O constancy, be strong upon my side!
- Set a huge mountain 'tween my heart and tongue!
- I have a man's mind, but a woman's might.
- How hard it is for women to keep counsel!
- Art thou here yet?
- LUCIUS. Madam, what should I do?
- Run to the Capitol, and nothing else?
- And so return to you, and nothing else?
- PORTIA. Yes, bring me word, boy, if thy lord look well,
- For he went sickly forth; and take good note
- What Caesar doth, what suitors press to him.
- Hark, boy, what noise is that?
- LUCIUS. I hear none, madam.
- PORTIA. Prithee, listen well.
- I heard a bustling rumor like a fray,
- And the wind brings it from the Capitol.
- LUCIUS. Sooth, madam, I hear nothing.
-
- Enter the Soothsayer.
-
- PORTIA. Come hither, fellow;
- Which way hast thou been?
- SOOTHSAYER. At mine own house, good lady.
- PORTIA. What is't o'clock?
- SOOTHSAYER. About the ninth hour, lady.
- PORTIA. Is Caesar yet gone to the Capitol?
- SOOTHSAYER. Madam, not yet. I go to take my stand
- To see him pass on to the Capitol.
- PORTIA. Thou hast some suit to Caesar, hast thou not?
- SOOTHSAYER. That I have, lady. If it will please Caesar
- To be so good to Caesar as to hear me,
- I shall beseech him to befriend himself.
- PORTIA. Why, know'st thou any harm's intended towards him?
- SOOTHSAYER. None that I know will be, much that I fear may chance.
- Good morrow to you. Here the street is narrow,
- The throng that follows Caesar at the heels,
- Of senators, of praetors, common suitors,
- Will crowd a feeble man almost to death.
- I'll get me to a place more void and there
- Speak to great Caesar as he comes along. Exit.
- PORTIA. I must go in. Ay me, how weak a thing
- The heart of woman is! O Brutus,
- The heavens speed thee in thine enterprise!
- Sure, the boy heard me. Brutus hath a suit
- That Caesar will not grant. O, I grow faint.
- Run, Lucius, and commend me to my lord;
- Say I am merry. Come to me again,
- And bring me word what he doth say to thee.
- Exeunt severally.
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT III. SCENE I.
-Rome. Before the Capitol; the Senate sitting above.
-A crowd of people, among them Artemidorus and the Soothsayer.
-
-Flourish. Enter Caesar, Brutus, Cassius, Casca, Decius, Metellus,
-Trebonius, Cinna, Antony, Lepidus, Popilius, Publius, and others.
-
- CAESAR. The ides of March are come.
- SOOTHSAYER. Ay, Caesar, but not gone.
- A Hail, Caesar! Read this schedule.
- DECIUS. Trebonius doth desire you to o'er read,
- At your best leisure, this his humble suit.
- ARTEMIDORUS. O Caesar, read mine first, for mine's a suit
- That touches Caesar nearer. Read it, great Caesar.
- CAESAR. What touches us ourself shall be last served.
- ARTEMIDORUS. Delay not, Caesar; read it instantly.
- CAESAR. What, is the fellow mad?
- PUBLIUS. Sirrah, give place.
- CASSIUS. What, urge you your petitions in the street?
- Come to the Capitol.
-
- Caesar goes up to the Senate House, the rest follow.
-
- POPILIUS. I wish your enterprise today may thrive.
- CASSIUS. What enterprise, Popilius?
- POPILIUS. Fare you well.
- Advances to Caesar.
- BRUTUS. What said Popilius Lena?
- CASSIUS. He wish'd today our enterprise might thrive.
- I fear our purpose is discovered.
- BRUTUS. Look, how he makes to Caesar. Mark him.
- CASSIUS. Casca,
- Be sudden, for we fear prevention.
- Brutus, what shall be done? If this be known,
- Cassius or Caesar never shall turn back,
- For I will slay myself.
- BRUTUS. Cassius, be constant.
- Popilius Lena speaks not of our purposes;
- For, look, he smiles, and Caesar doth not change.
- CASSIUS. Trebonius knows his time, for, look you, Brutus,
- He draws Mark Antony out of the way.
- Exeunt Antony and Trebonius.
- DECIUS. Where is Metellus Cimber? Let him
- And presently prefer his suit to Caesar.
- BRUTUS. He is address'd; press near and second him.
- CINNA. Casca, you are the first that rears your hand.
- CAESAR. Are we all ready? What is now amiss
- That Caesar and his Senate must redress?
- METELLUS. Most high, most mighty, and most puissant Caesar,
- Metellus Cimber throws before thy seat
- An humble heart. Kneels.
- CAESAR. I must prevent thee, Cimber.
- These couchings and these lowly courtesies
- Might fire the blood of ordinary men
- And turn preordinance and first decree
- Into the law of children. Be not fond
- To think that Caesar bears such rebel blood
- That will be thaw'd from the true quality
- With that which melteth fools- I mean sweet words,
- Low-crooked court'sies, and base spaniel-fawning.
- Thy brother by decree is banished.
- If thou dost bend and pray and fawn for him,
- I spurn thee like a cur out of my way.
- Know, Caesar doth not wrong, nor without cause
- Will he be satisfied.
- METELLUS. Is there no voice more worthy than my own,
- To sound more sweetly in great Caesar's ear
- For the repealing of my banish'd brother?
- BRUTUS. I kiss thy hand, but not in flattery, Caesar,
- Desiring thee that Publius Cimber may
- Have an immediate freedom of repeal.
- CAESAR. What, Brutus?
- CASSIUS. Pardon, Caesar! Caesar, pardon!
- As low as to thy foot doth Cassius fall
- To beg enfranchisement for Publius Cimber.
- CAESAR. I could be well moved, if I were as you;
- If I could pray to move, prayers would move me;
- But I am constant as the northern star,
- Of whose true-fix'd and resting quality
- There is no fellow in the firmament.
- The skies are painted with unnumber'd sparks;
- They are all fire and every one doth shine;
- But there's but one in all doth hold his place.
- So in the world, 'tis furnish'd well with men,
- And men are flesh and blood, and apprehensive;
- Yet in the number I do know but one
- That unassailable holds on his rank,
- Unshaked of motion; and that I am he,
- Let me a little show it, even in this;
- That I was constant Cimber should be banish'd,
- And constant do remain to keep him so.
- CINNA. O Caesar-
- CAESAR. Hence! Wilt thou lift up Olympus?
- DECIUS. Great Caesar-
- CAESAR. Doth not Brutus bootless kneel?
- CASCA. Speak, hands, for me!
- Casca first, then the other Conspirators
- and Marcus Brutus stab Caesar.
- CAESAR. Et tu, Brute?- Then fall, Caesar! Dies.
- CINNA. Liberty! Freedom! Tyranny is dead!
- Run hence, proclaim, cry it about the streets.
- CASSIUS. Some to the common pulpits and cry out
- "Liberty, freedom, and enfranchisement!"
- BRUTUS. People and senators, be not affrighted,
- Fly not, stand still; ambition's debt is paid.
- CASCA. Go to the pulpit, Brutus.
- DECIUS. And Cassius too.
- BRUTUS. Where's Publius?
- CINNA. Here, quite confounded with this mutiny.
- METELLUS. Stand fast together, lest some friend of Caesar's
- Should chance-
- BRUTUS. Talk not of standing. Publius, good cheer,
- There is no harm intended to your person,
- Nor to no Roman else. So tell them, Publius.
- CASSIUS. And leave us, Publius, lest that the people
- Rushing on us should do your age some mischief.
- BRUTUS. Do so, and let no man abide this deed
- But we the doers.
-
- Re-enter Trebonius.
-
- CASSIUS. Where is Antony?
- TREBONIUS. Fled to his house amazed.
- Men, wives, and children stare, cry out, and run
- As it were doomsday.
- BRUTUS. Fates, we will know your pleasures.
- That we shall die, we know; 'tis but the time
- And drawing days out that men stand upon.
- CASSIUS. Why, he that cuts off twenty years of life
- Cuts off so many years of fearing death.
- BRUTUS. Grant that, and then is death a benefit;
- So are we Caesar's friends that have abridged
- His time of fearing death. Stoop, Romans, stoop,
- And let us bathe our hands in Caesar's blood
- Up to the elbows, and besmear our swords;
- Then walk we forth, even to the marketplace,
- And waving our red weapons o'er our heads,
- Let's all cry, "Peace, freedom, and liberty!"
- CASSIUS. Stoop then, and wash. How many ages hence
- Shall this our lofty scene be acted over
- In states unborn and accents yet unknown!
- BRUTUS. How many times shall Caesar bleed in sport,
- That now on Pompey's basis lies along
- No worthier than the dust!
- CASSIUS. So oft as that shall be,
- So often shall the knot of us be call'd
- The men that gave their country liberty.
- DECIUS. What, shall we forth?
- CASSIUS. Ay, every man away.
- Brutus shall lead, and we will grace his heels
- With the most boldest and best hearts of Rome.
-
- Enter a Servant.
-
- BRUTUS. Soft, who comes here? A friend of Antony's.
- SERVANT. Thus, Brutus, did my master bid me kneel,
- Thus did Mark Antony bid me fall down,
- And, being prostrate, thus he bade me say:
- Brutus is noble, wise, valiant, and honest;
- Caesar was mighty, bold, royal, and loving.
- Say I love Brutus and I honor him;
- Say I fear'd Caesar, honor'd him, and loved him.
- If Brutus will vouchsafe that Antony
- May safely come to him and be resolved
- How Caesar hath deserved to lie in death,
- Mark Antony shall not love Caesar dead
- So well as Brutus living, but will follow
- The fortunes and affairs of noble Brutus
- Thorough the hazards of this untrod state
- With all true faith. So says my master Antony.
- BRUTUS. Thy master is a wise and valiant Roman;
- I never thought him worse.
- Tell him, so please him come unto this place,
- He shall be satisfied and, by my honor,
- Depart untouch'd.
- SERVANT. I'll fetch him presently. Exit.
- BRUTUS. I know that we shall have him well to friend.
- CASSIUS. I wish we may, but yet have I a mind
- That fears him much, and my misgiving still
- Falls shrewdly to the purpose.
-
- Re-enter Antony.
-
- BRUTUS. But here comes Antony. Welcome, Mark Antony.
- ANTONY. O mighty Caesar! Dost thou lie so low?
- Are all thy conquests, glories, triumphs, spoils,
- Shrunk to this little measure? Fare thee well.
- I know not, gentlemen, what you intend,
- Who else must be let blood, who else is rank.
- If I myself, there is no hour so fit
- As Caesar's death's hour, nor no instrument
- Of half that worth as those your swords, made rich
- With the most noble blood of all this world.
- I do beseech ye, if you bear me hard,
- Now, whilst your purpled hands do reek and smoke,
- Fulfill your pleasure. Live a thousand years,
- I shall not find myself so apt to die;
- No place will please me so, no means of death,
- As here by Caesar, and by you cut off,
- The choice and master spirits of this age.
- BRUTUS. O Antony, beg not your death of us!
- Though now we must appear bloody and cruel,
- As, by our hands and this our present act
- You see we do, yet see you but our hands
- And this the bleeding business they have done.
- Our hearts you see not; they are pitiful;
- And pity to the general wrong of Rome-
- As fire drives out fire, so pity pity-
- Hath done this deed on Caesar. For your part,
- To you our swords have leaden points, Mark Antony;
- Our arms in strength of malice, and our hearts
- Of brothers' temper, do receive you in
- With all kind love, good thoughts, and reverence.
- CASSIUS. Your voice shall be as strong as any man's
- In the disposing of new dignities.
- BRUTUS. Only be patient till we have appeased
- The multitude, beside themselves with fear,
- And then we will deliver you the cause
- Why I, that did love Caesar when I struck him,
- Have thus proceeded.
- ANTONY. I doubt not of your wisdom.
- Let each man render me his bloody hand.
- First, Marcus Brutus, will I shake with you;
- Next, Caius Cassius, do I take your hand;
- Now, Decius Brutus, yours; now yours, Metellus;
- Yours, Cinna; and, my valiant Casca, yours;
- Though last, not least in love, yours, good Trebonius.
- Gentlemen all- alas, what shall I say?
- My credit now stands on such slippery ground,
- That one of two bad ways you must conceit me,
- Either a coward or a flatterer.
- That I did love thee, Caesar, O, 'tis true!
- If then thy spirit look upon us now,
- Shall it not grieve thee dearer than thy death
- To see thy Antony making his peace,
- Shaking the bloody fingers of thy foes,
- Most noble! In the presence of thy corse?
- Had I as many eyes as thou hast wounds,
- Weeping as fast as they stream forth thy blood,
- It would become me better than to close
- In terms of friendship with thine enemies.
- Pardon me, Julius! Here wast thou bay'd, brave hart,
- Here didst thou fall, and here thy hunters stand,
- Sign'd in thy spoil, and crimson'd in thy Lethe.
- O world, thou wast the forest to this hart,
- And this, indeed, O world, the heart of thee.
- How like a deer strucken by many princes
- Dost thou here lie!
- CASSIUS. Mark Antony-
- ANTONY. Pardon me, Caius Cassius.
- The enemies of Caesar shall say this:
- Then, in a friend, it is cold modesty.
- CASSIUS. I blame you not for praising Caesar so;
- But what compact mean you to have with us?
- Will you be prick'd in number of our friends,
- Or shall we on, and not depend on you?
- ANTONY. Therefore I took your hands, but was indeed
- Sway'd from the point by looking down on Caesar.
- Friends am I with you all and love you all,
- Upon this hope that you shall give me reasons
- Why and wherein Caesar was dangerous.
- BRUTUS. Or else were this a savage spectacle.
- Our reasons are so full of good regard
- That were you, Antony, the son of Caesar,
- You should be satisfied.
- ANTONY. That's all I seek;
- And am moreover suitor that I may
- Produce his body to the marketplace,
- And in the pulpit, as becomes a friend,
- Speak in the order of his funeral.
- BRUTUS. You shall, Mark Antony.
- CASSIUS. Brutus, a word with you.
- [Aside to Brutus.] You know not what you do. Do not consent
- That Antony speak in his funeral.
- Know you how much the people may be moved
- By that which he will utter?
- BRUTUS. By your pardon,
- I will myself into the pulpit first,
- And show the reason of our Caesar's death.
- What Antony shall speak, I will protest
- He speaks by leave and by permission,
- And that we are contented Caesar shall
- Have all true rites and lawful ceremonies.
- It shall advantage more than do us wrong.
- CASSIUS. I know not what may fall; I like it not.
- BRUTUS. Mark Antony, here, take you Caesar's body.
- You shall not in your funeral speech blame us,
- But speak all good you can devise of Caesar,
- And say you do't by our permission,
- Else shall you not have any hand at all
- About his funeral. And you shall speak
- In the same pulpit whereto I am going,
- After my speech is ended.
- ANTONY. Be it so,
- I do desire no more.
- BRUTUS. Prepare the body then, and follow us.
- Exeunt all but Antony.
- ANTONY. O, pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth,
- That I am meek and gentle with these butchers!
- Thou art the ruins of the noblest man
- That ever lived in the tide of times.
- Woe to the hand that shed this costly blood!
- Over thy wounds now do I prophesy
- (Which like dumb mouths do ope their ruby lips
- To beg the voice and utterance of my tongue)
- A curse shall light upon the limbs of men;
- Domestic fury and fierce civil strife
- Shall cumber all the parts of Italy;
- Blood and destruction shall be so in use,
- And dreadful objects so familiar,
- That mothers shall but smile when they behold
- Their infants quarter'd with the hands of war;
- All pity choked with custom of fell deeds,
- And Caesar's spirit ranging for revenge,
- With Ate by his side come hot from hell,
- Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice
- Cry "Havoc!" and let slip the dogs of war,
- That this foul deed shall smell above the earth
- With carrion men, groaning for burial.
-
- Enter a Servant.
-
- You serve Octavius Caesar, do you not?
- SERVANT. I do, Mark Antony.
- ANTONY. Caesar did write for him to come to Rome.
- SERVANT. He did receive his letters, and is coming,
- And bid me say to you by word of mouth-
- O Caesar! Sees the body.
- ANTONY. Thy heart is big; get thee apart and weep.
- Passion, I see, is catching, for mine eyes,
- Seeing those beads of sorrow stand in thine,
- Began to water. Is thy master coming?
- SERVANT. He lies tonight within seven leagues of Rome.
- ANTONY. Post back with speed and tell him what hath chanced.
- Here is a mourning Rome, a dangerous Rome,
- No Rome of safety for Octavius yet;
- Hie hence, and tell him so. Yet stay awhile,
- Thou shalt not back till I have borne this corse
- Into the marketplace. There shall I try,
- In my oration, how the people take
- The cruel issue of these bloody men,
- According to the which thou shalt discourse
- To young Octavius of the state of things.
- Lend me your hand. Exeunt with Caesar's body.
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-The Forum.
-
-Enter Brutus and Cassius, and a throng of Citizens.
-
- CITIZENS. We will be satisfied! Let us be satisfied!
- BRUTUS. Then follow me and give me audience, friends.
- Cassius, go you into the other street
- And part the numbers.
- Those that will hear me speak, let 'em stay here;
- Those that will follow Cassius, go with him;
- And public reasons shall be rendered
- Of Caesar's death.
- FIRST CITIZEN. I will hear Brutus speak.
- SECOND CITIZEN. I will hear Cassius and compare their reasons,
- When severally we hear them rendered.
- Exit Cassius, with some Citizens.
- Brutus goes into the pulpit.
- THIRD CITIZEN. The noble Brutus is ascended. Silence!
- BRUTUS. Be patient till the last.
- Romans, countrymen, and lovers! Hear me for my cause, and be
- silent, that you may hear. Believe me for mine honor, and have
- respect to mine honor, that you may believe. Censure me in your
- wisdom, and awake your senses, that you may the better judge. If
- there be any in this assembly, any dear friend of Caesar's, to
- him I say that Brutus' love to Caesar was no less than his. If
- then that friend demand why Brutus rose against Caesar, this is
- my answer: Not that I loved Caesar less, but that I loved Rome
- more. Had you rather Caesar were living and die all slaves, than
- that Caesar were dead to live all freemen? As Caesar loved me, I
- weep for him; as he was fortunate, I rejoice at it; as he was
- valiant, I honor him; but as he was ambitious, I slew him. There
- is tears for his love, joy for his fortune, honor for his valor,
- and death for his ambition. Who is here so base that would be a
- bondman? If any, speak, for him have I offended. Who is here so
- rude that would not be a Roman? If any, speak, for him have I
- offended. Who is here so vile that will not love his country? If
- any, speak, for him have I offended. I pause for a reply.
- ALL. None, Brutus, none.
- BRUTUS. Then none have I offended. I have done no more to Caesar
- than you shall do to Brutus. The question of his death is
- enrolled in the Capitol, his glory not extenuated, wherein he was
- worthy, nor his offenses enforced, for which he suffered death.
-
- Enter Antony and others, with Caesar's body.
-
- Here comes his body, mourned by Mark Antony, who, though he had
- no hand in his death, shall receive the benefit of his dying, a
- place in the commonwealth, as which of you shall not? With this I
- depart- that, as I slew my best lover for the good of Rome, I
- have the same dagger for myself, when it shall please my country
- to need my death.
- ALL. Live, Brutus, live, live!
- FIRST CITIZEN. Bring him with triumph home unto his house.
- SECOND CITIZEN. Give him a statue with his ancestors.
- THIRD CITIZEN. Let him be Caesar.
- FOURTH CITIZEN. Caesar's better parts
- Shall be crown'd in Brutus.
- FIRST CITIZEN. We'll bring him to his house with shouts and
- clamors.
- BRUTUS. My countrymen-
- SECOND CITIZEN. Peace! Silence! Brutus speaks.
- FIRST CITIZEN. Peace, ho!
- BRUTUS. Good countrymen, let me depart alone,
- And, for my sake, stay here with Antony.
- Do grace to Caesar's corse, and grace his speech
- Tending to Caesar's glories, which Mark Antony,
- By our permission, is allow'd to make.
- I do entreat you, not a man depart,
- Save I alone, till Antony have spoke. Exit.
- FIRST CITIZEN. Stay, ho, and let us hear Mark Antony.
- THIRD CITIZEN. Let him go up into the public chair;
- We'll hear him. Noble Antony, go up.
- ANTONY. For Brutus' sake, I am beholding to you.
- Goes into the pulpit.
- FOURTH CITIZEN. What does he say of Brutus?
- THIRD CITIZEN. He says, for Brutus' sake,
- He finds himself beholding to us all.
- FOURTH CITIZEN. 'Twere best he speak no harm of Brutus here.
- FIRST CITIZEN. This Caesar was a tyrant.
- THIRD CITIZEN. Nay, that's certain.
- We are blest that Rome is rid of him.
- SECOND CITIZEN. Peace! Let us hear what Antony can say.
- ANTONY. You gentle Romans-
- ALL. Peace, ho! Let us hear him.
- ANTONY. Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears!
- I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him.
- The evil that men do lives after them,
- The good is oft interred with their bones;
- So let it be with Caesar. The noble Brutus
- Hath told you Caesar was ambitious;
- If it were so, it was a grievous fault,
- And grievously hath Caesar answer'd it.
- Here, under leave of Brutus and the rest-
- For Brutus is an honorable man;
- So are they all, all honorable men-
- Come I to speak in Caesar's funeral.
- He was my friend, faithful and just to me;
- But Brutus says he was ambitious,
- And Brutus is an honorable man.
- He hath brought many captives home to Rome,
- Whose ransoms did the general coffers fill.
- Did this in Caesar seem ambitious?
- When that the poor have cried, Caesar hath wept;
- Ambition should be made of sterner stuff:
- Yet Brutus says he was ambitious,
- And Brutus is an honorable man.
- You all did see that on the Lupercal
- I thrice presented him a kingly crown,
- Which he did thrice refuse. Was this ambition?
- Yet Brutus says he was ambitious,
- And sure he is an honorable man.
- I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke,
- But here I am to speak what I do know.
- You all did love him once, not without cause;
- What cause withholds you then to mourn for him?
- O judgement, thou art fled to brutish beasts,
- And men have lost their reason. Bear with me;
- My heart is in the coffin there with Caesar,
- And I must pause till it come back to me.
- FIRST CITIZEN. Methinks there is much reason in his sayings.
- SECOND CITIZEN. If thou consider rightly of the matter,
- Caesar has had great wrong.
- THIRD CITIZEN. Has he, masters?
- I fear there will a worse come in his place.
- FOURTH CITIZEN. Mark'd ye his words? He would not take the crown;
- Therefore 'tis certain he was not ambitious.
- FIRST CITIZEN. If it be found so, some will dear abide it.
- SECOND CITIZEN. Poor soul, his eyes are red as fire with weeping.
- THIRD CITIZEN. There's not a nobler man in Rome than Antony.
- FOURTH CITIZEN. Now mark him, he begins again to speak.
- ANTONY. But yesterday the word of Caesar might
- Have stood against the world. Now lies he there,
- And none so poor to do him reverence.
- O masters! If I were disposed to stir
- Your hearts and minds to mutiny and rage,
- I should do Brutus wrong and Cassius wrong,
- Who, you all know, are honorable men.
- I will not do them wrong; I rather choose
- To wrong the dead, to wrong myself and you,
- Than I will wrong such honorable men.
- But here's a parchment with the seal of Caesar;
- I found it in his closet, 'tis his will.
- Let but the commons hear this testament-
- Which, pardon me, I do not mean to read-
- And they would go and kiss dead Caesar's wounds
- And dip their napkins in his sacred blood,
- Yea, beg a hair of him for memory,
- And, dying, mention it within their wills,
- Bequeathing it as a rich legacy
- Unto their issue.
- FOURTH CITIZEN. We'll hear the will. Read it, Mark Antony.
- ALL. The will, the will! We will hear Caesar's will.
- ANTONY. Have patience, gentle friends, I must not read it;
- It is not meet you know how Caesar loved you.
- You are not wood, you are not stones, but men;
- And, being men, hearing the will of Caesar,
- It will inflame you, it will make you mad.
- 'Tis good you know not that you are his heirs,
- For if you should, O, what would come of it!
- FOURTH CITIZEN. Read the will; we'll hear it, Antony.
- You shall read us the will, Caesar's will.
- ANTONY. Will you be patient? Will you stay awhile?
- I have o'ershot myself to tell you of it.
- I fear I wrong the honorable men
- Whose daggers have stabb'd Caesar; I do fear it.
- FOURTH CITIZEN. They were traitors. Honorable men!
- ALL. The will! The testament!
- SECOND CITIZEN. They were villains, murtherers. The will!
- Read the will!
- ANTONY. You will compel me then to read the will?
- Then make a ring about the corse of Caesar,
- And let me show you him that made the will.
- Shall I descend? And will you give me leave?
- ALL. Come down.
- SECOND CITIZEN. Descend.
- He comes down from the pulpit.
- THIRD CITIZEN. You shall have leave.
- FOURTH CITIZEN. A ring, stand round.
- FIRST CITIZEN. Stand from the hearse, stand from the body.
- SECOND CITIZEN. Room for Antony, most noble Antony.
- ANTONY. Nay, press not so upon me, stand far off.
- ALL. Stand back; room, bear back!
- ANTONY. If you have tears, prepare to shed them now.
- You all do know this mantle. I remember
- The first time ever Caesar put it on;
- 'Twas on a summer's evening, in his tent,
- That day he overcame the Nervii.
- Look, in this place ran Cassius' dagger through;
- See what a rent the envious Casca made;
- Through this the well-beloved Brutus stabb'd;
- And as he pluck'd his cursed steel away,
- Mark how the blood of Caesar follow'd it,
- As rushing out of doors, to be resolved
- If Brutus so unkindly knock'd, or no;
- For Brutus, as you know, was Caesar's angel.
- Judge, O you gods, how dearly Caesar loved him!
- This was the most unkindest cut of all;
- For when the noble Caesar saw him stab,
- Ingratitude, more strong than traitors' arms,
- Quite vanquish'd him. Then burst his mighty heart,
- And, in his mantle muffling up his face,
- Even at the base of Pompey's statue,
- Which all the while ran blood, great Caesar fell.
- O, what a fall was there, my countrymen!
- Then I, and you, and all of us fell down,
- Whilst bloody treason flourish'd over us.
- O, now you weep, and I perceive you feel
- The dint of pity. These are gracious drops.
- Kind souls, what weep you when you but behold
- Our Caesar's vesture wounded? Look you here,
- Here is himself, marr'd, as you see, with traitors.
- FIRST CITIZEN. O piteous spectacle!
- SECOND CITIZEN. O noble Caesar!
- THIRD CITIZEN. O woeful day!
- FOURTH CITIZEN. O traitors villains!
- FIRST CITIZEN. O most bloody sight!
- SECOND CITIZEN. We will be revenged.
- ALL. Revenge! About! Seek! Burn! Fire! Kill!
- Slay! Let not a traitor live!
- ANTONY. Stay, countrymen.
- FIRST CITIZEN. Peace there! Hear the noble Antony.
- SECOND CITIZEN. We'll hear him, we'll follow him, we'll die with
- him.
- ANTONY. Good friends, sweet friends, let me not stir you up
- To such a sudden flood of mutiny.
- They that have done this deed are honorable.
- What private griefs they have, alas, I know not,
- That made them do it. They are wise and honorable,
- And will, no doubt, with reasons answer you.
- I come not, friends, to steal away your hearts.
- I am no orator, as Brutus is;
- But, as you know me all, a plain blunt man,
- That love my friend, and that they know full well
- That gave me public leave to speak of him.
- For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth,
- Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech,
- To stir men's blood. I only speak right on;
- I tell you that which you yourselves do know;
- Show you sweet Caesar's wounds, poor dumb mouths,
- And bid them speak for me. But were I Brutus,
- And Brutus Antony, there were an Antony
- Would ruffle up your spirits and put a tongue
- In every wound of Caesar that should move
- The stones of Rome to rise and mutiny.
- ALL. We'll mutiny.
- FIRST CITIZEN. We'll burn the house of Brutus.
- THIRD CITIZEN. Away, then! Come, seek the conspirators.
- ANTONY. Yet hear me, countrymen; yet hear me speak.
- ALL. Peace, ho! Hear Antony, most noble Antony!
- ANTONY. Why, friends, you go to do you know not what.
- Wherein hath Caesar thus deserved your loves?
- Alas, you know not; I must tell you then.
- You have forgot the will I told you of.
- ALL. Most true, the will! Let's stay and hear the will.
- ANTONY. Here is the will, and under Caesar's seal.
- To every Roman citizen he gives,
- To every several man, seventy-five drachmas.
- SECOND CITIZEN. Most noble Caesar! We'll revenge his death.
- THIRD CITIZEN. O royal Caesar!
- ANTONY. Hear me with patience.
- ALL. Peace, ho!
- ANTONY. Moreover, he hath left you all his walks,
- His private arbors, and new-planted orchards,
- On this side Tiber; he hath left them you,
- And to your heirs forever- common pleasures,
- To walk abroad and recreate yourselves.
- Here was a Caesar! When comes such another?
- FIRST CITIZEN. Never, never. Come, away, away!
- We'll burn his body in the holy place
- And with the brands fire the traitors' houses.
- Take up the body.
- SECOND CITIZEN. Go fetch fire.
- THIRD CITIZEN. Pluck down benches.
- FOURTH CITIZEN. Pluck down forms, windows, anything.
- Exeunt Citizens with the body.
- ANTONY. Now let it work. Mischief, thou art afoot,
- Take thou what course thou wilt.
-
- Enter a Servant.
-
- How now, fellow?
- SERVANT. Sir, Octavius is already come to Rome.
- ANTONY. Where is he?
- SERVANT. He and Lepidus are at Caesar's house.
- ANTONY. And thither will I straight to visit him.
- He comes upon a wish. Fortune is merry,
- And in this mood will give us anything.
- SERVANT. I heard him say Brutus and Cassius
- Are rid like madmen through the gates of Rome.
- ANTONY. Be like they had some notice of the people,
- How I had moved them. Bring me to Octavius. Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-A street.
-
-Enter Cinna the poet.
-
- CINNA. I dreamt tonight that I did feast with Caesar,
- And things unluckily charge my fantasy.
- I have no will to wander forth of doors,
- Yet something leads me forth.
-
- Enter Citizens.
-
- FIRST CITIZEN. What is your name?
- SECOND CITIZEN. Whither are you going?
- THIRD CITIZEN. Where do you dwell?
- FOURTH CITIZEN. Are you a married man or a bachelor?
- SECOND CITIZEN. Answer every man directly.
- FIRST CITIZEN. Ay, and briefly.
- FOURTH CITIZEN. Ay, and wisely.
- THIRD CITIZEN. Ay, and truly, you were best.
- CINNA. What is my name? Whither am I going? Where do I dwell? Am I
- a married man or a bachelor? Then, to answer every man directly
- and briefly, wisely and truly: wisely I say, I am a bachelor.
- SECOND CITIZEN. That's as much as to say they are fools that marry.
- You'll bear me a bang for that, I fear. Proceed directly.
- CINNA. Directly, I am going to Caesar's funeral.
- FIRST CITIZEN. As a friend or an enemy?
- CINNA. As a friend.
- SECOND CITIZEN. That matter is answered directly.
- FOURTH CITIZEN. For your dwelling, briefly.
- CINNA. Briefly, I dwell by the Capitol.
- THIRD CITIZEN. Your name, sir, truly.
- CINNA. Truly, my name is Cinna.
- FIRST CITIZEN. Tear him to pieces, he's a conspirator.
- CINNA. I am Cinna the poet, I am Cinna the poet.
- FOURTH CITIZEN. Tear him for his bad verses, tear him for his bad
- verses.
- CINNA. I am not Cinna the conspirator.
- FOURTH CITIZEN. It is no matter, his name's Cinna. Pluck but his
- name out of his heart, and turn him going.
- THIRD CITIZEN. Tear him, tear him! Come, brands, ho, firebrands. To
- Brutus', to Cassius'; burn all. Some to Decius' house, and some
- to Casca's, some to Ligarius'. Away, go! Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
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-
-ACT IV. SCENE I.
-A house in Rome. Antony, Octavius, and Lepidus, seated at a table.
-
- ANTONY. These many then shall die, their names are prick'd.
- OCTAVIUS. Your brother too must die; consent you, Lepidus?
- LEPIDUS. I do consent-
- OCTAVIUS. Prick him down, Antony.
- LEPIDUS. Upon condition Publius shall not live,
- Who is your sister's son, Mark Antony.
- ANTONY. He shall not live; look, with a spot I damn him.
- But, Lepidus, go you to Caesar's house,
- Fetch the will hither, and we shall determine
- How to cut off some charge in legacies.
- LEPIDUS. What, shall I find you here?
- OCTAVIUS. Or here, or at the Capitol. Exit Lepidus.
- ANTONY. This is a slight unmeritable man,
- Meet to be sent on errands. Is it fit,
- The three-fold world divided, he should stand
- One of the three to share it?
- OCTAVIUS. So you thought him,
- And took his voice who should be prick'd to die
- In our black sentence and proscription.
- ANTONY. Octavius, I have seen more days than you,
- And though we lay these honors on this man
- To ease ourselves of divers slanderous loads,
- He shall but bear them as the ass bears gold,
- To groan and sweat under the business,
- Either led or driven, as we point the way;
- And having brought our treasure where we will,
- Then take we down his load and turn him off,
- Like to the empty ass, to shake his ears
- And graze in commons.
- OCTAVIUS. You may do your will,
- But he's a tried and valiant soldier.
- ANTONY. So is my horse, Octavius, and for that
- I do appoint him store of provender.
- It is a creature that I teach to fight,
- To wind, to stop, to run directly on,
- His corporal motion govern'd by my spirit.
- And, in some taste, is Lepidus but so:
- He must be taught, and train'd, and bid go forth;
- A barren-spirited fellow, one that feeds
- On objects, arts, and imitations,
- Which, out of use and staled by other men,
- Begin his fashion. Do not talk of him
- But as a property. And now, Octavius,
- Listen great things. Brutus and Cassius
- Are levying powers; we must straight make head;
- Therefore let our alliance be combined,
- Our best friends made, our means stretch'd;
- And let us presently go sit in council,
- How covert matters may be best disclosed,
- And open perils surest answered.
- OCTAVIUS. Let us do so, for we are at the stake,
- And bay'd about with many enemies;
- And some that smile have in their hearts, I fear,
- Millions of mischiefs. Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-Camp near Sardis. Before Brutus' tent. Drum.
-
-Enter Brutus, Lucilius, Lucius, and Soldiers; Titinius and Pindarus meet them.
-
- BRUTUS. Stand, ho!
- LUCILIUS. Give the word, ho, and stand.
- BRUTUS. What now, Lucilius, is Cassius near?
- LUCILIUS. He is at hand, and Pindarus is come
- To do you salutation from his master.
- BRUTUS. He greets me well. Your master, Pindarus,
- In his own change, or by ill officers,
- Hath given me some worthy cause to wish
- Things done undone; but if he be at hand,
- I shall be satisfied.
- PINDARUS. I do not doubt
- But that my noble master will appear
- Such as he is, full of regard and honor.
- BRUTUS. He is not doubted. A word, Lucilius,
- How he received you. Let me be resolved.
- LUCILIUS. With courtesy and with respect enough,
- But not with such familiar instances,
- Nor with such free and friendly conference,
- As he hath used of old.
- BRUTUS. Thou hast described
- A hot friend cooling. Ever note, Lucilius,
- When love begins to sicken and decay
- It useth an enforced ceremony.
- There are no tricks in plain and simple faith;
- But hollow men, like horses hot at hand,
- Make gallant show and promise of their mettle;
- But when they should endure the bloody spur,
- They fall their crests and like deceitful jades
- Sink in the trial. Comes his army on?
- LUCILIUS. They meant his night in Sard is to be quarter'd;
- The greater part, the horse in general,
- Are come with Cassius. Low march within.
- BRUTUS. Hark, he is arrived.
- March gently on to meet him.
-
- Enter Cassius and his Powers.
-
- CASSIUS. Stand, ho!
- BRUTUS. Stand, ho! Speak the word along.
- FIRST SOLDIER. Stand!
- SECOND SOLDIER. Stand!
- THIRD SOLDIER. Stand!
- CASSIUS. Most noble brother, you have done me wrong.
- BRUTUS. Judge me, you gods! Wrong I mine enemies?
- And, if not so, how should I wrong a brother?
- CASSIUS. Brutus, this sober form of yours hides wrongs,
- And when you do them-
- BRUTUS. Cassius, be content,
- Speak your griefs softly, I do know you well.
- Before the eyes of both our armies here,
- Which should perceive nothing but love from us,
- Let us not wrangle. Bid them move away;
- Then in my tent, Cassius, enlarge your griefs,
- And I will give you audience.
- CASSIUS. Pindarus,
- Bid our commanders lead their charges off
- A little from this ground.
- BRUTUS. Lucilius, do you the like, and let no man
- Come to our tent till we have done our conference.
- Let Lucius and Titinius guard our door. Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-Brutus' tent.
-
-Enter Brutus and Cassius.
-
- CASSIUS. That you have wrong'd me doth appear in this:
- You have condemn'd and noted Lucius Pella
- For taking bribes here of the Sardians,
- Wherein my letters, praying on his side,
- Because I knew the man, were slighted off.
- BRUTUS. You wrong'd yourself to write in such a case.
- CASSIUS. In such a time as this it is not meet
- That every nice offense should bear his comment.
- BRUTUS. Let me tell you, Cassius, you yourself
- Are much condemn'd to have an itching palm,
- To sell and mart your offices for gold
- To undeservers.
- CASSIUS. I an itching palm?
- You know that you are Brutus that speaks this,
- Or, by the gods, this speech were else your last.
- BRUTUS. The name of Cassius honors this corruption,
- And chastisement doth therefore hide his head.
- CASSIUS. Chastisement?
- BRUTUS. Remember March, the ides of March remember.
- Did not great Julius bleed for justice' sake?
- What villain touch'd his body, that did stab,
- And not for justice? What, shall one of us,
- That struck the foremost man of all this world
- But for supporting robbers, shall we now
- Contaminate our fingers with base bribes
- And sell the mighty space of our large honors
- For so much trash as may be grasped thus?
- I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon,
- Than such a Roman.
- CASSIUS. Brutus, bait not me,
- I'll not endure it. You forget yourself
- To hedge me in. I am a soldier, I,
- Older in practice, abler than yourself
- To make conditions.
- BRUTUS. Go to, you are not, Cassius.
- CASSIUS. I am.
- BRUTUS. I say you are not.
- CASSIUS. Urge me no more, I shall forget myself;
- Have mind upon your health, tempt me no farther.
- BRUTUS. Away, slight man!
- CASSIUS. Is't possible?
- BRUTUS. Hear me, for I will speak.
- Must I give way and room to your rash choler?
- Shall I be frighted when a madman stares?
- CASSIUS. O gods, ye gods! Must I endure all this?
- BRUTUS. All this? Ay, more. Fret till your proud heart break.
- Go show your slaves how choleric you are,
- And make your bondmen tremble. Must I bouge?
- Must I observe you? Must I stand and crouch
- Under your testy humor? By the gods,
- You shall digest the venom of your spleen,
- Though it do split you, for, from this day forth,
- I'll use you for my mirth, yea, for my laughter,
- When you are waspish.
- CASSIUS. Is it come to this?
- BRUTUS. You say you are a better soldier:
- Let it appear so, make your vaunting true,
- And it shall please me well. For mine own part,
- I shall be glad to learn of noble men.
- CASSIUS. You wrong me every way, you wrong me, Brutus.
- I said, an elder soldier, not a better.
- Did I say "better"?
- BRUTUS. If you did, I care not.
- CASSIUS. When Caesar lived, he durst not thus have moved me.
- BRUTUS. Peace, peace! You durst not so have tempted him.
- CASSIUS. I durst not?
- BRUTUS. No.
- CASSIUS. What, durst not tempt him?
- BRUTUS. For your life you durst not.
- CASSIUS. Do not presume too much upon my love;
- I may do that I shall be sorry for.
- BRUTUS. You have done that you should be sorry for.
- There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats,
- For I am arm'd so strong in honesty,
- That they pass by me as the idle wind
- Which I respect not. I did send to you
- For certain sums of gold, which you denied me,
- For I can raise no money by vile means.
- By heaven, I had rather coin my heart
- And drop my blood for drachmas than to wring
- From the hard hands of peasants their vile trash
- By any indirection. I did send
- To you for gold to pay my legions,
- Which you denied me. Was that done like Cassius?
- Should I have answer'd Caius Cassius so?
- When Marcus Brutus grows so covetous
- To lock such rascal counters from his friends,
- Be ready, gods, with all your thunderbolts,
- Dash him to pieces!
- CASSIUS. I denied you not.
- BRUTUS. You did.
- CASSIUS. I did not. He was but a fool
- That brought my answer back. Brutus hath rived my heart.
- A friend should bear his friend's infirmities,
- But Brutus makes mine greater than they are.
- BRUTUS. I do not, till you practise them on me.
- CASSIUS. You love me not.
- BRUTUS. I do not like your faults.
- CASSIUS. A friendly eye could never see such faults.
- BRUTUS. A flatterer's would not, though they do appear
- As huge as high Olympus.
- CASSIUS. Come, Antony, and young Octavius, come,
- Revenge yourselves alone on Cassius,
- For Cassius is aweary of the world:
- Hated by one he loves; braved by his brother;
- Check'd like a bondman; all his faults observed,
- Set in a notebook, learn'd and conn'd by rote,
- To cast into my teeth. O, I could weep
- My spirit from mine eyes! There is my dagger,
- And here my naked breast; within, a heart
- Dearer than Pluto's mine, richer than gold.
- If that thou best a Roman, take it forth;
- I, that denied thee gold, will give my heart.
- Strike, as thou didst at Caesar, for I know,
- When thou didst hate him worst, thou lovedst him better
- Than ever thou lovedst Cassius.
- BRUTUS. Sheathe your dagger.
- Be angry when you will, it shall have scope;
- Do what you will, dishonor shall be humor.
- O Cassius, you are yoked with a lamb,
- That carries anger as the flint bears fire,
- Who, much enforced, shows a hasty spark
- And straight is cold again.
- CASSIUS. Hath Cassius lived
- To be but mirth and laughter to his Brutus,
- When grief and blood ill-temper'd vexeth him?
- BRUTUS. When I spoke that, I was ill-temper'd too.
- CASSIUS. Do you confess so much? Give me your hand.
- BRUTUS. And my heart too.
- CASSIUS. O Brutus!
- BRUTUS. What's the matter?
- CASSIUS. Have not you love enough to bear with me
- When that rash humor which my mother gave me
- Makes me forgetful?
- BRUTUS. Yes, Cassius, and from henceforth,
- When you are overearnest with your Brutus,
- He'll think your mother chides, and leave you so.
- POET. [Within.] Let me go in to see the generals.
- There is some grudge between 'em, 'tis not meet
- They be alone.
- LUCILIUS. [Within.] You shall not come to them.
- POET. [Within.] Nothing but death shall stay me.
-
- Enter Poet, followed by Lucilius, Titinius, and Lucius.
-
- CASSIUS. How now, what's the matter?
- POET. For shame, you generals! What do you mean?
- Love, and be friends, as two such men should be;
- For I have seen more years, I'm sure, than ye.
- CASSIUS. Ha, ha! How vilely doth this cynic rhyme!
- BRUTUS. Get you hence, sirrah; saucy fellow, hence!
- CASSIUS. Bear with him, Brutus; 'tis his fashion.
- BRUTUS. I'll know his humor when he knows his time.
- What should the wars do with these jigging fools?
- Companion, hence!
- CASSIUS. Away, away, be gone! Exit Poet.
- BRUTUS. Lucilius and Titinius, bid the commanders
- Prepare to lodge their companies tonight.
- CASSIUS. And come yourselves and bring Messala with you
- Immediately to us. Exeunt Lucilius and Titinius.
- BRUTUS. Lucius, a bowl of wine! Exit Lucius.
- CASSIUS. I did not think you could have been so angry.
- BRUTUS. O Cassius, I am sick of many griefs.
- CASSIUS. Of your philosophy you make no use,
- If you give place to accidental evils.
- BRUTUS. No man bears sorrow better. Portia is dead.
- CASSIUS. Ha? Portia?
- BRUTUS. She is dead.
- CASSIUS. How 'scaped killing when I cross'd you so?
- O insupportable and touching loss!
- Upon what sickness?
- BRUTUS. Impatient of my absence,
- And grief that young Octavius with Mark Antony
- Have made themselves so strong- for with her death
- That tidings came- with this she fell distract,
- And (her attendants absent) swallow'd fire.
- CASSIUS. And died so?
- BRUTUS. Even so.
- CASSIUS. O ye immortal gods!
-
- Re-enter Lucius, with wine and taper.
-
- BRUTUS. Speak no more of her. Give me a bowl of wine.
- In this I bury all unkindness, Cassius. Drinks.
- CASSIUS. My heart is thirsty for that noble pledge.
- Fill, Lucius, till the wine o'erswell the cup;
- I cannot drink too much of Brutus' love. Drinks.
- BRUTUS. Come in, Titinius! Exit Lucius.
-
- Re-enter Titinius, with Messala.
-
- Welcome, good Messala.
- Now sit we close about this taper here,
- And call in question our necessities.
- CASSIUS. Portia, art thou gone?
- BRUTUS. No more, I pray you.
- Messala, I have here received letters
- That young Octavius and Mark Antony
- Come down upon us with a mighty power,
- Bending their expedition toward Philippi.
- MESSALA. Myself have letters of the selfsame tenure.
- BRUTUS. With what addition?
- MESSALA. That by proscription and bills of outlawry
- Octavius, Antony, and Lepidus
- Have put to death an hundred senators.
- BRUTUS. There in our letters do not well agree;
- Mine speak of seventy senators that died
- By their proscriptions, Cicero being one.
- CASSIUS. Cicero one!
- MESSALA. Cicero is dead,
- And by that order of proscription.
- Had you your letters from your wife, my lord?
- BRUTUS. No, Messala.
- MESSALA. Nor nothing in your letters writ of her?
- BRUTUS. Nothing, Messala.
- MESSALA. That, methinks, is strange.
- BRUTUS. Why ask you? Hear you aught of her in yours?
- MESSALA. No, my lord.
- BRUTUS. Now, as you are a Roman, tell me true.
- MESSALA. Then like a Roman bear the truth I tell:
- For certain she is dead, and by strange manner.
- BRUTUS. Why, farewell, Portia. We must die, Messala.
- With meditating that she must die once
- I have the patience to endure it now.
- MESSALA. Even so great men great losses should endure.
- CASSIUS. I have as much of this in art as you,
- But yet my nature could not bear it so.
- BRUTUS. Well, to our work alive. What do you think
- Of marching to Philippi presently?
- CASSIUS. I do not think it good.
- BRUTUS. Your reason?
- CASSIUS. This it is:
- 'Tis better that the enemy seek us;
- So shall he waste his means, weary his soldiers,
- Doing himself offense, whilst we lying still
- Are full of rest, defense, and nimbleness.
- BRUTUS. Good reasons must of force give place to better.
- The people 'twixt Philippi and this ground
- Do stand but in a forced affection,
- For they have grudged us contribution.
- The enemy, marching along by them,
- By them shall make a fuller number up,
- Come on refresh'd, new-added, and encouraged;
- From which advantage shall we cut him off
- If at Philippi we do face him there,
- These people at our back.
- CASSIUS. Hear me, good brother.
- BRUTUS. Under your pardon. You must note beside
- That we have tried the utmost of our friends,
- Our legions are brim-full, our cause is ripe:
- The enemy increaseth every day;
- We, at the height, are ready to decline.
- There is a tide in the affairs of men
- Which taken at the flood leads on to fortune;
- Omitted, all the voyage of their life
- Is bound in shallows and in miseries.
- On such a full sea are we now afloat,
- And we must take the current when it serves,
- Or lose our ventures.
- CASSIUS. Then, with your will, go on;
- We'll along ourselves and meet them at Philippi.
- BRUTUS. The deep of night is crept upon our talk,
- And nature must obey necessity,
- Which we will niggard with a little rest.
- There is no more to say?
- CASSIUS. No more. Good night.
- Early tomorrow will we rise and hence.
- BRUTUS. Lucius!
-
- Re-enter Lucius.
-
- My gown. Exit Lucius.
- Farewell, good Messala;
- Good night, Titinius; noble, noble Cassius,
- Good night and good repose.
- CASSIUS. O my dear brother!
- This was an ill beginning of the night.
- Never come such division 'tween our souls!
- Let it not, Brutus.
- BRUTUS. Everything is well.
- CASSIUS. Good night, my lord.
- BRUTUS. Good night, good brother.
- TITINIUS. MESSALA. Good night, Lord Brutus.
- BRUTUS. Farewell, everyone.
- Exeunt all but Brutus.
-
- Re-enter Lucius, with the gown.
-
- Give me the gown. Where is thy instrument?
- LUCIUS. Here in the tent.
- BRUTUS. What, thou speak'st drowsily?
- Poor knave, I blame thee not, thou art o'erwatch'd.
- Call Claudio and some other of my men,
- I'll have them sleep on cushions in my tent.
- LUCIUS. Varro and Claudio!
-
- Enter Varro and Claudio.
-
- VARRO. Calls my lord?
- BRUTUS. I pray you, sirs, lie in my tent and sleep;
- It may be I shall raise you by and by
- On business to my brother Cassius.
- VARRO. So please you, we will stand and watch your pleasure.
- BRUTUS. I would not have it so. Lie down, good sirs.
- It may be I shall otherwise bethink me.
- Look Lucius, here's the book I sought for so;
- I put it in the pocket of my gown.
- Varro and Claudio lie down.
- LUCIUS. I was sure your lordship did not give it me.
- BRUTUS. Bear with me, good boy, I am much forgetful.
- Canst thou hold up thy heavy eyes awhile,
- And touch thy instrument a strain or two?
- LUCIUS. Ay, my lord, an't please you.
- BRUTUS. It does, my boy.
- I trouble thee too much, but thou art willing.
- LUCIUS. It is my duty, sir.
- BRUTUS. I should not urge thy duty past thy might;
- I know young bloods look for a time of rest.
- LUCIUS. I have slept, my lord, already.
- BRUTUS. It was well done, and thou shalt sleep again;
- I will not hold thee long. If I do live,
- I will be good to thee. Music, and a song.
- This is a sleepy tune. O murtherous slumber,
- Layest thou thy leaden mace upon my boy
- That plays thee music? Gentle knave, good night.
- I will not do thee so much wrong to wake thee.
- If thou dost nod, thou break'st thy instrument;
- I'll take it from thee; and, good boy, good night.
- Let me see, let me see; is not the leaf turn'd down
- Where I left reading? Here it is, I think. Sits down.
-
- Enter the Ghost of Caesar.
-
- How ill this taper burns! Ha, who comes here?
- I think it is the weakness of mine eyes
- That shapes this monstrous apparition.
- It comes upon me. Art thou anything?
- Art thou some god, some angel, or some devil
- That makest my blood cold and my hair to stare?
- Speak to me what thou art.
- GHOST. Thy evil spirit, Brutus.
- BRUTUS. Why comest thou?
- GHOST. To tell thee thou shalt see me at Philippi.
- BRUTUS. Well, then I shall see thee again?
- GHOST. Ay, at Philippi.
- BRUTUS. Why, I will see thee at Philippi then. Exit Ghost.
- Now I have taken heart thou vanishest.
- Ill spirit, I would hold more talk with thee.
- Boy! Lucius! Varro! Claudio! Sirs, awake!
- Claudio!
- LUCIUS. The strings, my lord, are false.
- BRUTUS. He thinks he still is at his instrument.
- Lucius, awake!
- LUCIUS. My lord?
- BRUTUS. Didst thou dream, Lucius, that thou so criedst out?
- LUCIUS. My lord, I do not know that I did cry.
- BRUTUS. Yes, that thou didst. Didst thou see anything?
- LUCIUS. Nothing, my lord.
- BRUTUS. Sleep again, Lucius. Sirrah Claudio!
- [To Varro.] Fellow thou, awake!
- VARRO. My lord?
- CLAUDIO. My lord?
- BRUTUS. Why did you so cry out, sirs, in your sleep?
- VARRO. CLAUDIO. Did we, my lord?
- BRUTUS. Ay, saw you anything?
- VARRO. No, my lord, I saw nothing.
- CLAUDIO. Nor I, my lord.
- BRUTUS. Go and commend me to my brother Cassius;
- Bid him set on his powers betimes before,
- And we will follow.
- VARRO. CLAUDIO. It shall be done, my lord. Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
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-
-ACT V. SCENE I.
-The plains of Philippi.
-
-Enter Octavius, Antony, and their Army.
-
- OCTAVIUS. Now, Antony, our hopes are answered.
- You said the enemy would not come down,
- But keep the hills and upper regions.
- It proves not so. Their battles are at hand;
- They mean to warn us at Philippi here,
- Answering before we do demand of them.
- ANTONY. Tut, I am in their bosoms, and I know
- Wherefore they do it. They could be content
- To visit other places, and come down
- With fearful bravery, thinking by this face
- To fasten in our thoughts that they have courage;
- But 'tis not so.
-
- Enter a Messenger.
-
- MESSENGER. Prepare you, generals.
- The enemy comes on in gallant show;
- Their bloody sign of battle is hung out,
- And something to be done immediately.
- ANTONY. Octavius, lead your battle softly on,
- Upon the left hand of the even field.
- OCTAVIUS. Upon the right hand I, keep thou the left.
- ANTONY. Why do you cross me in this exigent?
- OCTAVIUS. I do not cross you, but I will do so.
-
- March. Drum. Enter Brutus, Cassius, and their Army;
- Lucilius, Titinius, Messala, and others.
-
- BRUTUS. They stand, and would have parley.
- CASSIUS. Stand fast, Titinius; we must out and talk.
- OCTAVIUS. Mark Antony, shall we give sign of battle?
- ANTONY. No, Caesar, we will answer on their charge.
- Make forth, the generals would have some words.
- OCTAVIUS. Stir not until the signal not until the signal.
- BRUTUS. Words before blows. Is it so, countrymen?
- OCTAVIUS. Not that we love words better, as you do.
- BRUTUS. Good words are better than bad strokes, Octavius.
- ANTONY. In your bad strokes, Brutus, you give good words.
- Witness the hole you made in Caesar's heart,
- Crying "Long live! Hail, Caesar!"
- CASSIUS. Antony,
- The posture of your blows are yet unknown;
- But for your words, they rob the Hybla bees,
- And leave them honeyless.
- ANTONY. Not stingless too.
- BRUTUS. O, yes, and soundless too,
- For you have stol'n their buzzing, Antony,
- And very wisely threat before you sting.
- ANTONY. Villains! You did not so when your vile daggers
- Hack'd one another in the sides of Caesar.
- You show'd your teeth like apes, and fawn'd like hounds,
- And bow'd like bondmen, kissing Caesar's feet;
- Whilst damned Casca, like a cur, behind
- Strooke Caesar on the neck. O you flatterers!
- CASSIUS. Flatterers? Now, Brutus, thank yourself.
- This tongue had not offended so today,
- If Cassius might have ruled.
- OCTAVIUS. Come, come, the cause. If arguing make us sweat,
- The proof of it will turn to redder drops.
- Look,
- I draw a sword against conspirators;
- When think you that the sword goes up again?
- Never, till Caesar's three and thirty wounds
- Be well avenged, or till another Caesar
- Have added slaughter to the sword of traitors.
- BRUTUS. Caesar, thou canst not die by traitors' hands,
- Unless thou bring'st them with thee.
- OCTAVIUS. So I hope,
- I was not born to die on Brutus' sword.
- BRUTUS. O, if thou wert the noblest of thy strain,
- Young man, thou couldst not die more honorable.
- CASSIUS. A peevish school boy, worthless of such honor,
- Join'd with a masker and a reveler!
- ANTONY. Old Cassius still!
- OCTAVIUS. Come, Antony, away!
- Defiance, traitors, hurl we in your teeth.
- If you dare fight today, come to the field;
- If not, when you have stomachs.
- Exeunt Octavius, Antony, and their Army.
- CASSIUS. Why, now, blow and, swell billow, and swim bark!
- The storm is up, and all is on the hazard.
- BRUTUS. Ho, Lucilius! Hark, a word with you.
- LUCILIUS. [Stands forth.] My lord?
- Brutus and Lucilius converse apart.
- CASSIUS. Messala!
- MESSALA. [Stands forth.] What says my general?
- CASSIUS. Messala,
- This is my birthday, as this very day
- Was Cassius born. Give me thy hand, Messala.
- Be thou my witness that, against my will,
- As Pompey was, am I compell'd to set
- Upon one battle all our liberties.
- You know that I held Epicurus strong,
- And his opinion. Now I change my mind,
- And partly credit things that do presage.
- Coming from Sardis, on our former ensign
- Two mighty eagles fell, and there they perch'd,
- Gorging and feeding from our soldiers' hands,
- Who to Philippi here consorted us.
- This morning are they fled away and gone,
- And in their steads do ravens, crows, and kites
- Fly o'er our heads and downward look on us,
- As we were sickly prey. Their shadows seem
- A canopy most fatal, under which
- Our army lies, ready to give up the ghost.
- MESSALA. Believe not so.
- CASSIUS. I but believe it partly,
- For I am fresh of spirit and resolved
- To meet all perils very constantly.
- BRUTUS. Even so, Lucilius.
- CASSIUS. Now, most noble Brutus,
- The gods today stand friendly that we may,
- Lovers in peace, lead on our days to age!
- But, since the affairs of men rest still incertain,
- Let's reason with the worst that may befall.
- If we do lose this battle, then is this
- The very last time we shall speak together.
- What are you then determined to do?
- BRUTUS. Even by the rule of that philosophy
- By which I did blame Cato for the death
- Which he did give himself- I know not how,
- But I do find it cowardly and vile,
- For fear of what might fall, so to prevent
- The time of life- arming myself with patience
- To stay the providence of some high powers
- That govern us below.
- CASSIUS. Then, if we lose this battle,
- You are contented to be led in triumph
- Thorough the streets of Rome?
- BRUTUS. No, Cassius, no. Think not, thou noble Roman,
- That ever Brutus will go bound to Rome;
- He bears too great a mind. But this same day
- Must end that work the ides of March begun.
- And whether we shall meet again I know not.
- Therefore our everlasting farewell take.
- Forever, and forever, farewell, Cassius!
- If we do meet again, why, we shall smile;
- If not, why then this parting was well made.
- CASSIUS. Forever and forever farewell, Brutus!
- If we do meet again, we'll smile indeed;
- If not, 'tis true this parting was well made.
- BRUTUS. Why then, lead on. O, that a man might know
- The end of this day's business ere it come!
- But it sufficeth that the day will end,
- And then the end is known. Come, ho! Away! Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-The field of battle.
-
-Alarum. Enter Brutus and Messala.
-
- BRUTUS. Ride, ride, Messala, ride, and give these bills
- Unto the legions on the other side. Loud alarum.
- Let them set on at once, for I perceive
- But cold demeanor in Octavia's wing,
- And sudden push gives them the overthrow.
- Ride, ride, Messala. Let them all come down. Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-Another part of the field.
-
-Alarums. Enter Cassius and Titinius.
-
- CASSIUS. O, look, Titinius, look, the villains fly!
- Myself have to mine own turn'd enemy.
- This ensign here of mine was turning back;
- I slew the coward, and did take it from him.
- TITINIUS. O Cassius, Brutus gave the word too early,
- Who, having some advantage on Octavius,
- Took it too eagerly. His soldiers fell to spoil,
- Whilst we by Antony are all enclosed.
-
- Enter Pindarus.
-
- PINDARUS. Fly further off, my lord, fly further off;
- Mark Antony is in your tents, my lord;
- Fly, therefore, noble Cassius, fly far off.
- CASSIUS. This hill is far enough. Look, look, Titinius:
- Are those my tents where I perceive the fire?
- TITINIUS. They are, my lord.
- CASSIUS. Titinius, if thou lovest me,
- Mount thou my horse and hide thy spurs in him,
- Till he have brought thee up to yonder troops
- And here again, that I may rest assured
- Whether yond troops are friend or enemy.
- TITINIUS. I will be here again, even with a thought. Exit.
- CASSIUS. Go, Pindarus, get higher on that hill;
- My sight was ever thick; regard Titinius,
- And tell me what thou notest about the field.
- Pindarus ascends the hill.
- This day I breathed first: time is come round,
- And where I did begin, there shall I end;
- My life is run his compass. Sirrah, what news?
- PINDARUS. [Above.] O my lord!
- CASSIUS. What news?
- PINDARUS. [Above.] Titinius is enclosed round about
- With horsemen, that make to him on the spur;
- Yet he spurs on. Now they are almost on him.
- Now, Titinius! Now some light. O, he lights too.
- He's ta'en [Shout.] And, hark! They shout for joy.
- CASSIUS. Come down; behold no more.
- O, coward that I am, to live so long,
- To see my best friend ta'en before my face!
- Pindarus descends.
- Come hither, sirrah.
- In Parthia did I take thee prisoner,
- And then I swore thee, saving of thy life,
- That whatsoever I did bid thee do,
- Thou shouldst attempt it. Come now, keep thine oath;
- Now be a freeman, and with this good sword,
- That ran through Caesar's bowels, search this bosom.
- Stand not to answer: here, take thou the hilts;
- And when my face is cover'd, as 'tis now,
- Guide thou the sword. [Pindarus stabs him.] Caesar, thou art
- revenged,
- Even with the sword that kill'd thee. Dies.
- PINDARUS. So, I am free, yet would not so have been,
- Durst I have done my will. O Cassius!
- Far from this country Pindarus shall run,
- Where never Roman shall take note of him. Exit.
-
- Re-enter Titinius with Messala.
-
- MESSALA. It is but change, Titinius, for Octavius
- Is overthrown by noble Brutus' power,
- As Cassius' legions are by Antony.
- TITINIUS. These tidings would well comfort Cassius.
- MESSALA. Where did you leave him?
- TITINIUS. All disconsolate,
- With Pindarus his bondman, on this hill.
- MESSALA. Is not that he that lies upon the ground?
- TITINIUS. He lies not like the living. O my heart!
- MESSALA. Is not that he?
- TITINIUS. No, this was he, Messala,
- But Cassius is no more. O setting sun,
- As in thy red rays thou dost sink to night,
- So in his red blood Cassius' day is set,
- The sun of Rome is set! Our day is gone;
- Clouds, dews, and dangers come; our deeds are done!
- Mistrust of my success hath done this deed.
- MESSALA. Mistrust of good success hath done this deed.
- O hateful error, melancholy's child,
- Why dost thou show to the apt thoughts of men
- The things that are not? O error, soon conceived,
- Thou never comest unto a happy birth,
- But kill'st the mother that engender'd thee!
- TITINIUS. What, Pindarus! Where art thou, Pindarus?
- MESSALA. Seek him, Titinius, whilst I go to meet
- The noble Brutus, thrusting this report
- Into his ears. I may say "thrusting" it,
- For piercing steel and darts envenomed
- Shall be as welcome to the ears of Brutus
- As tidings of this sight.
- TITINIUS. Hie you, Messala,
- And I will seek for Pindarus the while. Exit Messala.
- Why didst thou send me forth, brave Cassius?
- Did I not meet thy friends? And did not they
- Put on my brows this wreath of victory,
- And bid me give it thee? Didst thou not hear their shouts?
- Alas, thou hast misconstrued everything!
- But, hold thee, take this garland on thy brow;
- Thy Brutus bid me give it thee, and I
- Will do his bidding. Brutus, come apace,
- And see how I regarded Caius Cassius.
- By your leave, gods, this is a Roman's part.
- Come, Cassius' sword, and find Titinius' heart.
- Kills himself.
-
- Alarum. Re-enter Messala, with Brutus, young Cato,
- and others.
-
- BRUTUS. Where, where, Messala, doth his body lie?
- MESSALA. Lo, yonder, and Titinius mourning it.
- BRUTUS. Titinius' face is upward.
- CATO. He is slain.
- BRUTUS. O Julius Caesar, thou art mighty yet!
- Thy spirit walks abroad, and turns our swords
- In our own proper entrails. Low alarums.
- CATO. Brave Titinius!
- Look whe'er he have not crown'd dead Cassius!
- BRUTUS. Are yet two Romans living such as these?
- The last of all the Romans, fare thee well!
- It is impossible that ever Rome
- Should breed thy fellow. Friends, I owe moe tears
- To this dead man than you shall see me pay.
- I shall find time, Cassius, I shall find time.
- Come therefore, and to Thasos send his body;
- His funerals shall not be in our camp,
- Lest it discomfort us. Lucilius, come,
- And come, young Cato; let us to the field.
- Labio and Flavio, set our battles on.
- 'Tis three o'clock, and Romans, yet ere night
- We shall try fortune in a second fight. Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-SCENE IV.
-Another part of the field.
-
-Alarum. Enter, fighting, Soldiers of both armies; then Brutus, young Cato,
-Lucilius, and others.
-
- BRUTUS. Yet, countrymen, O, yet hold up your heads!
- CATO. What bastard doth not? Who will go with me?
- I will proclaim my name about the field.
- I am the son of Marcus Cato, ho!
- A foe to tyrants, and my country's friend.
- I am the son of Marcus Cato, ho!
- BRUTUS. And I am Brutus, Marcus Brutus, I;
- Brutus, my country's friend; know me for Brutus! Exit.
- LUCILIUS. O young and noble Cato, art thou down?
- Why, now thou diest as bravely as Titinius,
- And mayst be honor'd, being Cato's son.
- FIRST SOLDIER. Yield, or thou diest.
- LUCILIUS. Only I yield to die.
- [Offers money.] There is so much that thou wilt kill me straight:
- Kill Brutus, and be honor'd in his death.
- FIRST SOLDIER. We must not. A noble prisoner!
- SECOND SOLDIER. Room, ho! Tell Antony, Brutus is ta'en.
- FIRST SOLDIER. I'll tell the news. Here comes the general.
-
- Enter Antony.
-
- Brutus is ta'en, Brutus is ta'en, my lord.
- ANTONY. Where is he?
- LUCILIUS. Safe, Antony, Brutus is safe enough.
- I dare assure thee that no enemy
- Shall ever take alive the noble Brutus;
- The gods defend him from so great a shame!
- When you do find him, or alive or dead,
- He will be found like Brutus, like himself.
- ANTONY. This is not Brutus, friend, but, I assure you,
- A prize no less in worth. Keep this man safe,
- Give him all kindness; I had rather have
- Such men my friends than enemies. Go on,
- And see wheer Brutus be alive or dead,
- And bring us word unto Octavius' tent
- How everything is chanced. Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-SCENE V.
-Another part of the field.
-
-Enter Brutus, Dardanius, Clitus, Strato, and Volumnius.
-
- BRUTUS. Come, poor remains of friends, rest on this rock.
- CLITUS. Statilius show'd the torchlight, but, my lord,
- He came not back. He is or ta'en or slain.
- BRUTUS. Sit thee down, Clitus. Slaying is the word:
- It is a deed in fashion. Hark thee, Clitus. Whispers.
- CLITUS. What, I, my lord? No, not for all the world.
- BRUTUS. Peace then, no words.
- CLITUS. I'll rather kill myself.
- BRUTUS. Hark thee, Dardanius. Whispers.
- DARDANIUS. Shall I do such a deed?
- CLITUS. O Dardanius!
- DARDANIUS. O Clitus!
- CLITUS. What ill request did Brutus make to thee?
- DARDANIUS. To kill him, Clitus. Look, he meditates.
- CLITUS. Now is that noble vessel full of grief,
- That it runs over even at his eyes.
- BRUTUS. Come hither, good Volumnius, list a word.
- VOLUMNIUS. What says my lord?
- BRUTUS. Why, this, Volumnius:
- The ghost of Caesar hath appear'd to me
- Two several times by night; at Sardis once,
- And this last night here in Philippi fields.
- I know my hour is come.
- VOLUMNIUS. Not so, my lord.
- BRUTUS. Nay I am sure it is, Volumnius.
- Thou seest the world, Volumnius, how it goes;
- Our enemies have beat us to the pit; Low alarums.
- It is more worthy to leap in ourselves
- Than tarry till they push us. Good Volumnius,
- Thou know'st that we two went to school together;
- Even for that our love of old, I prithee,
- Hold thou my sword-hilts, whilst I run on it.
- VOLUMNIUS. That's not an office for a friend, my lord.
- Alarum still.
- CLITUS. Fly, fly, my lord, there is no tarrying here.
- BRUTUS. Farewell to you, and you, and you, Volumnius.
- Strato, thou hast been all this while asleep;
- Farewell to thee too, Strato. Countrymen,
- My heart doth joy that yet in all my life
- I found no man but he was true to me.
- I shall have glory by this losing day,
- More than Octavius and Mark Antony
- By this vile conquest shall attain unto.
- So, fare you well at once, for Brutus' tongue
- Hath almost ended his life's history.
- Night hangs upon mine eyes, my bones would rest
- That have but labor'd to attain this hour.
- Alarum. Cry within, "Fly, fly, fly!"
- CLITUS. Fly, my lord, fly.
- BRUTUS. Hence! I will follow.
- Exeunt Clitus, Dardanius, and Volumnius.
- I prithee, Strato, stay thou by thy lord.
- Thou art a fellow of a good respect;
- Thy life hath had some smatch of honor in it.
- Hold then my sword, and turn away thy face,
- While I do run upon it. Wilt thou, Strato?
- STRATO. Give me your hand first. Fare you well, my lord.
- BRUTUS. Farewell, good Strato. Runs on his sword.
- Caesar, now be still;
- I kill'd not thee with half so good a will. Dies.
-
- Alarum. Retreat. Enter Octavius, Antony, Messala,
- Lucilius, and the Army.
-
- OCTAVIUS. What man is that?
- MESSALA. My master's man. Strato, where is thy master?
- STRATO. Free from the bondage you are in, Messala:
- The conquerors can but make a fire of him;
- For Brutus only overcame himself,
- And no man else hath honor by his death.
- LUCILIUS. So Brutus should be found. I thank thee, Brutus,
- That thou hast proved Lucilius' saying true.
- OCTAVIUS. All that served Brutus, I will entertain them.
- Fellow, wilt thou bestow thy time with me?
- STRATO. Ay, if Messala will prefer me to you.
- OCTAVIUS. Do so, good Messala.
- MESSALA. How died my master, Strato?
- STRATO. I held the sword, and he did run on it.
- MESSALA. Octavius, then take him to follow thee
- That did the latest service to my master.
- ANTONY. This was the noblest Roman of them all.
- All the conspirators, save only he,
- Did that they did in envy of great Caesar;
- He only, in a general honest thought
- And common good to all, made one of them.
- His life was gentle, and the elements
- So mix'd in him that Nature might stand up
- And say to all the world, "This was a man!"
- OCTAVIUS. According to his virtue let us use him
- With all respect and rites of burial.
- Within my tent his bones tonight shall lie,
- Most like a soldier, ordered honorably.
- So call the field to rest, and let's away,
- To part the glories of this happy day. Exeunt.
-
-
-THE END
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-
-
-
-1606
-
-
-THE TRAGEDY OF KING LEAR
-
-by William Shakespeare
-
-
-
-
-Dramatis Personae
-
- Lear, King of Britain.
- King of France.
- Duke of Burgundy.
- Duke of Cornwall.
- Duke of Albany.
- Earl of Kent.
- Earl of Gloucester.
- Edgar, son of Gloucester.
- Edmund, bastard son to Gloucester.
- Curan, a courtier.
- Old Man, tenant to Gloucester.
- Doctor.
- Lear's Fool.
- Oswald, steward to Goneril.
- A Captain under Edmund's command.
- Gentlemen.
- A Herald.
- Servants to Cornwall.
-
- Goneril, daughter to Lear.
- Regan, daughter to Lear.
- Cordelia, daughter to Lear.
-
- Knights attending on Lear, Officers, Messengers, Soldiers,
- Attendants.
-
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-Scene: - Britain.
-
-
-ACT I. Scene I.
-[King Lear's Palace.]
-
-Enter Kent, Gloucester, and Edmund. [Kent and Glouceste converse.
-Edmund stands back.]
-
- Kent. I thought the King had more affected the Duke of Albany than
- Cornwall.
- Glou. It did always seem so to us; but now, in the division of the
- kingdom, it appears not which of the Dukes he values most, for
- equalities are so weigh'd that curiosity in neither can make
- choice of either's moiety.
- Kent. Is not this your son, my lord?
- Glou. His breeding, sir, hath been at my charge. I have so often
- blush'd to acknowledge him that now I am braz'd to't.
- Kent. I cannot conceive you.
- Glou. Sir, this young fellow's mother could; whereupon she grew
- round-womb'd, and had indeed, sir, a son for her cradle ere she
- had a husband for her bed. Do you smell a fault?
- Kent. I cannot wish the fault undone, the issue of it being so
- proper.
- Glou. But I have, sir, a son by order of law, some year elder than
- this, who yet is no dearer in my account. Though this knave came
- something saucily into the world before he was sent for, yet was
- his mother fair, there was good sport at his making, and the
- whoreson must be acknowledged.- Do you know this noble gentleman,
- Edmund?
- Edm. [comes forward] No, my lord.
- Glou. My Lord of Kent. Remember him hereafter as my honourable
- friend.
- Edm. My services to your lordship.
- Kent. I must love you, and sue to know you better.
- Edm. Sir, I shall study deserving.
- Glou. He hath been out nine years, and away he shall again.
- Sound a sennet.
- The King is coming.
-
- Enter one bearing a coronet; then Lear; then the Dukes of
- Albany and Cornwall; next, Goneril, Regan, Cordelia, with
- Followers.
-
- Lear. Attend the lords of France and Burgundy, Gloucester.
- Glou. I shall, my liege.
- Exeunt [Gloucester and Edmund].
- Lear. Meantime we shall express our darker purpose.
- Give me the map there. Know we have divided
- In three our kingdom; and 'tis our fast intent
- To shake all cares and business from our age,
- Conferring them on younger strengths while we
- Unburthen'd crawl toward death. Our son of Cornwall,
- And you, our no less loving son of Albany,
- We have this hour a constant will to publish
- Our daughters' several dowers, that future strife
- May be prevented now. The princes, France and Burgundy,
- Great rivals in our youngest daughter's love,
- Long in our court have made their amorous sojourn,
- And here are to be answer'd. Tell me, my daughters
- (Since now we will divest us both of rule,
- Interest of territory, cares of state),
- Which of you shall we say doth love us most?
- That we our largest bounty may extend
- Where nature doth with merit challenge. Goneril,
- Our eldest-born, speak first.
- Gon. Sir, I love you more than words can wield the matter;
- Dearer than eyesight, space, and liberty;
- Beyond what can be valued, rich or rare;
- No less than life, with grace, health, beauty, honour;
- As much as child e'er lov'd, or father found;
- A love that makes breath poor, and speech unable.
- Beyond all manner of so much I love you.
- Cor. [aside] What shall Cordelia speak? Love, and be silent.
- Lear. Of all these bounds, even from this line to this,
- With shadowy forests and with champains rich'd,
- With plenteous rivers and wide-skirted meads,
- We make thee lady. To thine and Albany's issue
- Be this perpetual.- What says our second daughter,
- Our dearest Regan, wife to Cornwall? Speak.
- Reg. Sir, I am made
- Of the selfsame metal that my sister is,
- And prize me at her worth. In my true heart
- I find she names my very deed of love;
- Only she comes too short, that I profess
- Myself an enemy to all other joys
- Which the most precious square of sense possesses,
- And find I am alone felicitate
- In your dear Highness' love.
- Cor. [aside] Then poor Cordelia!
- And yet not so; since I am sure my love's
- More richer than my tongue.
- Lear. To thee and thine hereditary ever
- Remain this ample third of our fair kingdom,
- No less in space, validity, and pleasure
- Than that conferr'd on Goneril.- Now, our joy,
- Although the last, not least; to whose young love
- The vines of France and milk of Burgundy
- Strive to be interest; what can you say to draw
- A third more opulent than your sisters? Speak.
- Cor. Nothing, my lord.
- Lear. Nothing?
- Cor. Nothing.
- Lear. Nothing can come of nothing. Speak again.
- Cor. Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave
- My heart into my mouth. I love your Majesty
- According to my bond; no more nor less.
- Lear. How, how, Cordelia? Mend your speech a little,
- Lest it may mar your fortunes.
- Cor. Good my lord,
- You have begot me, bred me, lov'd me; I
- Return those duties back as are right fit,
- Obey you, love you, and most honour you.
- Why have my sisters husbands, if they say
- They love you all? Haply, when I shall wed,
- That lord whose hand must take my plight shall carry
- Half my love with him, half my care and duty.
- Sure I shall never marry like my sisters,
- To love my father all.
- Lear. But goes thy heart with this?
- Cor. Ay, good my lord.
- Lear. So young, and so untender?
- Cor. So young, my lord, and true.
- Lear. Let it be so! thy truth then be thy dower!
- For, by the sacred radiance of the sun,
- The mysteries of Hecate and the night;
- By all the operation of the orbs
- From whom we do exist and cease to be;
- Here I disclaim all my paternal care,
- Propinquity and property of blood,
- And as a stranger to my heart and me
- Hold thee from this for ever. The barbarous Scythian,
- Or he that makes his generation messes
- To gorge his appetite, shall to my bosom
- Be as well neighbour'd, pitied, and reliev'd,
- As thou my sometime daughter.
- Kent. Good my liege-
- Lear. Peace, Kent!
- Come not between the dragon and his wrath.
- I lov'd her most, and thought to set my rest
- On her kind nursery.- Hence and avoid my sight!-
- So be my grave my peace as here I give
- Her father's heart from her! Call France! Who stirs?
- Call Burgundy! Cornwall and Albany,
- With my two daughters' dowers digest this third;
- Let pride, which she calls plainness, marry her.
- I do invest you jointly in my power,
- Preeminence, and all the large effects
- That troop with majesty. Ourself, by monthly course,
- With reservation of an hundred knights,
- By you to be sustain'd, shall our abode
- Make with you by due turns. Only we still retain
- The name, and all th' additions to a king. The sway,
- Revenue, execution of the rest,
- Beloved sons, be yours; which to confirm,
- This coronet part betwixt you.
- Kent. Royal Lear,
- Whom I have ever honour'd as my king,
- Lov'd as my father, as my master follow'd,
- As my great patron thought on in my prayers-
- Lear. The bow is bent and drawn; make from the shaft.
- Kent. Let it fall rather, though the fork invade
- The region of my heart! Be Kent unmannerly
- When Lear is mad. What wouldst thou do, old man?
- Think'st thou that duty shall have dread to speak
- When power to flattery bows? To plainness honour's bound
- When majesty falls to folly. Reverse thy doom;
- And in thy best consideration check
- This hideous rashness. Answer my life my judgment,
- Thy youngest daughter does not love thee least,
- Nor are those empty-hearted whose low sound
- Reverbs no hollowness.
- Lear. Kent, on thy life, no more!
- Kent. My life I never held but as a pawn
- To wage against thine enemies; nor fear to lose it,
- Thy safety being the motive.
- Lear. Out of my sight!
- Kent. See better, Lear, and let me still remain
- The true blank of thine eye.
- Lear. Now by Apollo-
- Kent. Now by Apollo, King,
- Thou swear'st thy gods in vain.
- Lear. O vassal! miscreant!
- [Lays his hand on his sword.]
- Alb., Corn. Dear sir, forbear!
- Kent. Do!
- Kill thy physician, and the fee bestow
- Upon the foul disease. Revoke thy gift,
- Or, whilst I can vent clamour from my throat,
- I'll tell thee thou dost evil.
- Lear. Hear me, recreant!
- On thine allegiance, hear me!
- Since thou hast sought to make us break our vow-
- Which we durst never yet- and with strain'd pride
- To come between our sentence and our power,-
- Which nor our nature nor our place can bear,-
- Our potency made good, take thy reward.
- Five days we do allot thee for provision
- To shield thee from diseases of the world,
- And on the sixth to turn thy hated back
- Upon our kingdom. If, on the tenth day following,
- Thy banish'd trunk be found in our dominions,
- The moment is thy death. Away! By Jupiter,
- This shall not be revok'd.
- Kent. Fare thee well, King. Since thus thou wilt appear,
- Freedom lives hence, and banishment is here.
- [To Cordelia] The gods to their dear shelter take thee, maid,
- That justly think'st and hast most rightly said!
- [To Regan and Goneril] And your large speeches may your deeds
- approve,
- That good effects may spring from words of love.
- Thus Kent, O princes, bids you all adieu;
- He'll shape his old course in a country new.
-Exit.
-
- Flourish. Enter Gloucester, with France and Burgundy; Attendants.
-
- Glou. Here's France and Burgundy, my noble lord.
- Lear. My Lord of Burgundy,
- We first address toward you, who with this king
- Hath rivall'd for our daughter. What in the least
- Will you require in present dower with her,
- Or cease your quest of love?
- Bur. Most royal Majesty,
- I crave no more than hath your Highness offer'd,
- Nor will you tender less.
- Lear. Right noble Burgundy,
- When she was dear to us, we did hold her so;
- But now her price is fall'n. Sir, there she stands.
- If aught within that little seeming substance,
- Or all of it, with our displeasure piec'd,
- And nothing more, may fitly like your Grace,
- She's there, and she is yours.
- Bur. I know no answer.
- Lear. Will you, with those infirmities she owes,
- Unfriended, new adopted to our hate,
- Dow'r'd with our curse, and stranger'd with our oath,
- Take her, or leave her?
- Bur. Pardon me, royal sir.
- Election makes not up on such conditions.
- Lear. Then leave her, sir; for, by the pow'r that made me,
- I tell you all her wealth. [To France] For you, great King,
- I would not from your love make such a stray
- To match you where I hate; therefore beseech you
- T' avert your liking a more worthier way
- Than on a wretch whom nature is asham'd
- Almost t' acknowledge hers.
- France. This is most strange,
- That she that even but now was your best object,
- The argument of your praise, balm of your age,
- Most best, most dearest, should in this trice of time
- Commit a thing so monstrous to dismantle
- So many folds of favour. Sure her offence
- Must be of such unnatural degree
- That monsters it, or your fore-vouch'd affection
- Fall'n into taint; which to believe of her
- Must be a faith that reason without miracle
- Should never plant in me.
- Cor. I yet beseech your Majesty,
- If for I want that glib and oily art
- To speak and purpose not, since what I well intend,
- I'll do't before I speak- that you make known
- It is no vicious blot, murther, or foulness,
- No unchaste action or dishonoured step,
- That hath depriv'd me of your grace and favour;
- But even for want of that for which I am richer-
- A still-soliciting eye, and such a tongue
- As I am glad I have not, though not to have it
- Hath lost me in your liking.
- Lear. Better thou
- Hadst not been born than not t' have pleas'd me better.
- France. Is it but this- a tardiness in nature
- Which often leaves the history unspoke
- That it intends to do? My Lord of Burgundy,
- What say you to the lady? Love's not love
- When it is mingled with regards that stands
- Aloof from th' entire point. Will you have her?
- She is herself a dowry.
- Bur. Royal Lear,
- Give but that portion which yourself propos'd,
- And here I take Cordelia by the hand,
- Duchess of Burgundy.
- Lear. Nothing! I have sworn; I am firm.
- Bur. I am sorry then you have so lost a father
- That you must lose a husband.
- Cor. Peace be with Burgundy!
- Since that respects of fortune are his love,
- I shall not be his wife.
- France. Fairest Cordelia, that art most rich, being poor;
- Most choice, forsaken; and most lov'd, despis'd!
- Thee and thy virtues here I seize upon.
- Be it lawful I take up what's cast away.
- Gods, gods! 'tis strange that from their cold'st neglect
- My love should kindle to inflam'd respect.
- Thy dow'rless daughter, King, thrown to my chance,
- Is queen of us, of ours, and our fair France.
- Not all the dukes in wat'rish Burgundy
- Can buy this unpriz'd precious maid of me.
- Bid them farewell, Cordelia, though unkind.
- Thou losest here, a better where to find.
- Lear. Thou hast her, France; let her be thine; for we
- Have no such daughter, nor shall ever see
- That face of hers again. Therefore be gone
- Without our grace, our love, our benison.
- Come, noble Burgundy.
- Flourish. Exeunt Lear, Burgundy, [Cornwall, Albany,
- Gloucester, and Attendants].
- France. Bid farewell to your sisters.
- Cor. The jewels of our father, with wash'd eyes
- Cordelia leaves you. I know you what you are;
- And, like a sister, am most loath to call
- Your faults as they are nam'd. Use well our father.
- To your professed bosoms I commit him;
- But yet, alas, stood I within his grace,
- I would prefer him to a better place!
- So farewell to you both.
- Gon. Prescribe not us our duties.
- Reg. Let your study
- Be to content your lord, who hath receiv'd you
- At fortune's alms. You have obedience scanted,
- And well are worth the want that you have wanted.
- Cor. Time shall unfold what plighted cunning hides.
- Who cover faults, at last shame them derides.
- Well may you prosper!
- France. Come, my fair Cordelia.
- Exeunt France and Cordelia.
- Gon. Sister, it is not little I have to say of what most nearly
- appertains to us both. I think our father will hence to-night.
- Reg. That's most certain, and with you; next month with us.
- Gon. You see how full of changes his age is. The observation we
- have made of it hath not been little. He always lov'd our
- sister most, and with what poor judgment he hath now cast her
- off appears too grossly.
- Reg. 'Tis the infirmity of his age; yet he hath ever but slenderly
- known himself.
- Gon. The best and soundest of his time hath been but rash; then
- must we look to receive from his age, not alone the
- imperfections of long-ingraffed condition, but therewithal
- the unruly waywardness that infirm and choleric years bring with
- them.
- Reg. Such unconstant starts are we like to have from him as this
- of Kent's banishment.
- Gon. There is further compliment of leave-taking between France and
- him. Pray you let's hit together. If our father carry authority
- with such dispositions as he bears, this last surrender of his
- will but offend us.
- Reg. We shall further think on't.
- Gon. We must do something, and i' th' heat.
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-Scene II.
-The Earl of Gloucester's Castle.
-
-Enter [Edmund the] Bastard solus, [with a letter].
-
- Edm. Thou, Nature, art my goddess; to thy law
- My services are bound. Wherefore should I
- Stand in the plague of custom, and permit
- The curiosity of nations to deprive me,
- For that I am some twelve or fourteen moonshines
- Lag of a brother? Why bastard? wherefore base?
- When my dimensions are as well compact,
- My mind as generous, and my shape as true,
- As honest madam's issue? Why brand they us
- With base? with baseness? bastardy? base, base?
- Who, in the lusty stealth of nature, take
- More composition and fierce quality
- Than doth, within a dull, stale, tired bed,
- Go to th' creating a whole tribe of fops
- Got 'tween asleep and wake? Well then,
- Legitimate Edgar, I must have your land.
- Our father's love is to the bastard Edmund
- As to th' legitimate. Fine word- 'legitimate'!
- Well, my legitimate, if this letter speed,
- And my invention thrive, Edmund the base
- Shall top th' legitimate. I grow; I prosper.
- Now, gods, stand up for bastards!
-
- Enter Gloucester.
-
- Glou. Kent banish'd thus? and France in choler parted?
- And the King gone to-night? subscrib'd his pow'r?
- Confin'd to exhibition? All this done
- Upon the gad? Edmund, how now? What news?
- Edm. So please your lordship, none.
- [Puts up the letter.]
- Glou. Why so earnestly seek you to put up that letter?
- Edm. I know no news, my lord.
- Glou. What paper were you reading?
- Edm. Nothing, my lord.
- Glou. No? What needed then that terrible dispatch of it into your
- pocket? The quality of nothing hath not such need to hide
- itself. Let's see. Come, if it be nothing, I shall not need
- spectacles.
- Edm. I beseech you, sir, pardon me. It is a letter from my brother
- that I have not all o'er-read; and for so much as I have
- perus'd, I find it not fit for your o'erlooking.
- Glou. Give me the letter, sir.
- Edm. I shall offend, either to detain or give it. The contents, as
- in part I understand them, are to blame.
- Glou. Let's see, let's see!
- Edm. I hope, for my brother's justification, he wrote this but as
- an essay or taste of my virtue.
-
- Glou. (reads) 'This policy and reverence of age makes the world
- bitter to the best of our times; keeps our fortunes from us
- till our oldness cannot relish them. I begin to find an idle
- and fond bondage in the oppression of aged tyranny, who sways,
- not as it hath power, but as it is suffer'd. Come to me, that
- of this I may speak more. If our father would sleep till I
- wak'd him, you should enjoy half his revenue for ever, and live
- the beloved of your brother,
- 'EDGAR.'
-
- Hum! Conspiracy? 'Sleep till I wak'd him, you should enjoy half
- his revenue.' My son Edgar! Had he a hand to write this? a heart
- and brain to breed it in? When came this to you? Who brought it?
- Edm. It was not brought me, my lord: there's the cunning of it. I
- found it thrown in at the casement of my closet.
- Glou. You know the character to be your brother's?
- Edm. If the matter were good, my lord, I durst swear it were his;
- but in respect of that, I would fain think it were not.
- Glou. It is his.
- Edm. It is his hand, my lord; but I hope his heart is not in the
- contents.
- Glou. Hath he never before sounded you in this business?
- Edm. Never, my lord. But I have heard him oft maintain it to be fit
- that, sons at perfect age, and fathers declining, the father
- should be as ward to the son, and the son manage his revenue.
- Glou. O villain, villain! His very opinion in the letter! Abhorred
- villain! Unnatural, detested, brutish villain! worse than
- brutish! Go, sirrah, seek him. I'll apprehend him. Abominable
- villain! Where is he?
- Edm. I do not well know, my lord. If it shall please you to suspend
- your indignation against my brother till you can derive from him
- better testimony of his intent, you should run a certain course;
- where, if you violently proceed against him, mistaking his
- purpose, it would make a great gap in your own honour and shake
- in pieces the heart of his obedience. I dare pawn down my life
- for him that he hath writ this to feel my affection to your
- honour, and to no other pretence of danger.
- Glou. Think you so?
- Edm. If your honour judge it meet, I will place you where you shall
- hear us confer of this and by an auricular assurance have your
- satisfaction, and that without any further delay than this very
- evening.
- Glou. He cannot be such a monster.
- Edm. Nor is not, sure.
- Glou. To his father, that so tenderly and entirely loves him.
- Heaven and earth! Edmund, seek him out; wind me into him, I pray
- you; frame the business after your own wisdom. I would unstate
- myself to be in a due resolution.
- Edm. I will seek him, sir, presently; convey the business as I
- shall find means, and acquaint you withal.
- Glou. These late eclipses in the sun and moon portend no good to
- us. Though the wisdom of nature can reason it thus and thus, yet
- nature finds itself scourg'd by the sequent effects. Love cools,
- friendship falls off, brothers divide. In cities, mutinies; in
- countries, discord; in palaces, treason; and the bond crack'd
- 'twixt son and father. This villain of mine comes under the
- prediction; there's son against father: the King falls from bias
- of nature; there's father against child. We have seen the best
- of our time. Machinations, hollowness, treachery, and all
- ruinous disorders follow us disquietly to our graves. Find out
- this villain, Edmund; it shall lose thee nothing; do it
- carefully. And the noble and true-hearted Kent banish'd! his
- offence, honesty! 'Tis strange. Exit.
- Edm. This is the excellent foppery of the world, that, when we are
- sick in fortune, often the surfeit of our own behaviour, we make
- guilty of our disasters the sun, the moon, and the stars; as if
- we were villains on necessity; fools by heavenly compulsion;
- knaves, thieves, and treachers by spherical pre-dominance;
- drunkards, liars, and adulterers by an enforc'd obedience of
- planetary influence; and all that we are evil in, by a divine
- thrusting on. An admirable evasion of whore-master man, to lay
- his goatish disposition to the charge of a star! My father
- compounded with my mother under the Dragon's Tail, and my
- nativity was under Ursa Major, so that it follows I am rough and
- lecherous. Fut! I should have been that I am, had the
- maidenliest star in the firmament twinkled on my bastardizing.
- Edgar-
-
- Enter Edgar.
-
- and pat! he comes, like the catastrophe of the old comedy. My
- cue is villainous melancholy, with a sigh like Tom o' Bedlam.
- O, these eclipses do portend these divisions! Fa, sol, la, mi.
- Edg. How now, brother Edmund? What serious contemplation are you
- in?
- Edm. I am thinking, brother, of a prediction I read this other day,
- what should follow these eclipses.
- Edg. Do you busy yourself with that?
- Edm. I promise you, the effects he writes of succeed unhappily: as
- of unnaturalness between the child and the parent; death,
- dearth, dissolutions of ancient amities; divisions in state,
- menaces and maledictions against king and nobles; needless
- diffidences, banishment of friends, dissipation of cohorts,
- nuptial breaches, and I know not what.
- Edg. How long have you been a sectary astronomical?
- Edm. Come, come! When saw you my father last?
- Edg. The night gone by.
- Edm. Spake you with him?
- Edg. Ay, two hours together.
- Edm. Parted you in good terms? Found you no displeasure in him by
- word or countenance
- Edg. None at all.
- Edm. Bethink yourself wherein you may have offended him; and at my
- entreaty forbear his presence until some little time hath
- qualified the heat of his displeasure, which at this instant so
- rageth in him that with the mischief of your person it would
- scarcely allay.
- Edg. Some villain hath done me wrong.
- Edm. That's my fear. I pray you have a continent forbearance till
- the speed of his rage goes slower; and, as I say, retire with me
- to my lodging, from whence I will fitly bring you to hear my
- lord speak. Pray ye, go! There's my key. If you do stir abroad,
- go arm'd.
- Edg. Arm'd, brother?
- Edm. Brother, I advise you to the best. Go arm'd. I am no honest man
- if there be any good meaning toward you. I have told you what I
- have seen and heard; but faintly, nothing like the image and
- horror of it. Pray you, away!
- Edg. Shall I hear from you anon?
- Edm. I do serve you in this business.
- Exit Edgar.
- A credulous father! and a brother noble,
- Whose nature is so far from doing harms
- That he suspects none; on whose foolish honesty
- My practices ride easy! I see the business.
- Let me, if not by birth, have lands by wit;
- All with me's meet that I can fashion fit.
-Exit.
-
-
-
-
-Scene III.
-The Duke of Albany's Palace.
-
-Enter Goneril and [her] Steward [Oswald].
-
- Gon. Did my father strike my gentleman for chiding of his fool?
- Osw. Ay, madam.
- Gon. By day and night, he wrongs me! Every hour
- He flashes into one gross crime or other
- That sets us all at odds. I'll not endure it.
- His knights grow riotous, and himself upbraids us
- On every trifle. When he returns from hunting,
- I will not speak with him. Say I am sick.
- If you come slack of former services,
- You shall do well; the fault of it I'll answer.
- [Horns within.]
- Osw. He's coming, madam; I hear him.
- Gon. Put on what weary negligence you please,
- You and your fellows. I'd have it come to question.
- If he distaste it, let him to our sister,
- Whose mind and mine I know in that are one,
- Not to be overrul'd. Idle old man,
- That still would manage those authorities
- That he hath given away! Now, by my life,
- Old fools are babes again, and must be us'd
- With checks as flatteries, when they are seen abus'd.
- Remember what I have said.
- Osw. Very well, madam.
- Gon. And let his knights have colder looks among you.
- What grows of it, no matter. Advise your fellows so.
- I would breed from hence occasions, and I shall,
- That I may speak. I'll write straight to my sister
- To hold my very course. Prepare for dinner.
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-Scene IV.
-The Duke of Albany's Palace.
-
-Enter Kent, [disguised].
-
- Kent. If but as well I other accents borrow,
- That can my speech defuse, my good intent
- May carry through itself to that full issue
- For which I raz'd my likeness. Now, banish'd Kent,
- If thou canst serve where thou dost stand condemn'd,
- So may it come, thy master, whom thou lov'st,
- Shall find thee full of labours.
-
- Horns within. Enter Lear, [Knights,] and Attendants.
-
- Lear. Let me not stay a jot for dinner; go get it ready. [Exit
- an Attendant.] How now? What art thou?
- Kent. A man, sir.
- Lear. What dost thou profess? What wouldst thou with us?
- Kent. I do profess to be no less than I seem, to serve him truly
- that will put me in trust, to love him that is honest, to
- converse with him that is wise and says little, to fear
- judgment, to fight when I cannot choose, and to eat no fish.
- Lear. What art thou?
- Kent. A very honest-hearted fellow, and as poor as the King.
- Lear. If thou be'st as poor for a subject as he's for a king, thou
- art poor enough. What wouldst thou?
- Kent. Service.
- Lear. Who wouldst thou serve?
- Kent. You.
- Lear. Dost thou know me, fellow?
- Kent. No, sir; but you have that in your countenance which I would
- fain call master.
- Lear. What's that?
- Kent. Authority.
- Lear. What services canst thou do?
- Kent. I can keep honest counsel, ride, run, mar a curious tale in
- telling it and deliver a plain message bluntly. That which
- ordinary men are fit for, I am qualified in, and the best of me
- is diligence.
- Lear. How old art thou?
- Kent. Not so young, sir, to love a woman for singing, nor so old to
- dote on her for anything. I have years on my back forty-eight.
- Lear. Follow me; thou shalt serve me. If I like thee no worse after
- dinner, I will not part from thee yet. Dinner, ho, dinner!
- Where's my knave? my fool? Go you and call my fool hither.
-
- [Exit an attendant.]
-
- Enter [Oswald the] Steward.
-
- You, you, sirrah, where's my daughter?
- Osw. So please you- Exit.
- Lear. What says the fellow there? Call the clotpoll back.
- [Exit a Knight.] Where's my fool, ho? I think the world's
- asleep.
-
- [Enter Knight]
-
- How now? Where's that mongrel?
- Knight. He says, my lord, your daughter is not well.
- Lear. Why came not the slave back to me when I call'd him?
- Knight. Sir, he answered me in the roundest manner, he would not.
- Lear. He would not?
- Knight. My lord, I know not what the matter is; but to my judgment
- your Highness is not entertain'd with that ceremonious affection
- as you were wont. There's a great abatement of kindness appears
- as well in the general dependants as in the Duke himself also
- and your daughter.
- Lear. Ha! say'st thou so?
- Knight. I beseech you pardon me, my lord, if I be mistaken; for
- my duty cannot be silent when I think your Highness wrong'd.
- Lear. Thou but rememb'rest me of mine own conception. I have
- perceived a most faint neglect of late, which I have rather
- blamed as mine own jealous curiosity than as a very pretence
- and purpose of unkindness. I will look further into't. But
- where's my fool? I have not seen him this two days.
- Knight. Since my young lady's going into France, sir, the fool
- hath much pined away.
- Lear. No more of that; I have noted it well. Go you and tell my
- daughter I would speak with her. [Exit Knight.] Go you, call
- hither my fool.
- [Exit an Attendant.]
-
- Enter [Oswald the] Steward.
-
- O, you, sir, you! Come you hither, sir. Who am I, sir?
- Osw. My lady's father.
- Lear. 'My lady's father'? My lord's knave! You whoreson dog! you
- slave! you cur!
- Osw. I am none of these, my lord; I beseech your pardon.
- Lear. Do you bandy looks with me, you rascal?
- [Strikes him.]
- Osw. I'll not be strucken, my lord.
- Kent. Nor tripp'd neither, you base football player?
- [Trips up his heels.
- Lear. I thank thee, fellow. Thou serv'st me, and I'll love thee.
- Kent. Come, sir, arise, away! I'll teach you differences. Away,
- away! If you will measure your lubber's length again, tarry; but
- away! Go to! Have you wisdom? So.
- [Pushes him out.]
- Lear. Now, my friendly knave, I thank thee. There's earnest of thy
- service. [Gives money.]
-
- Enter Fool.
-
- Fool. Let me hire him too. Here's my coxcomb.
- [Offers Kent his cap.]
- Lear. How now, my pretty knave? How dost thou?
- Fool. Sirrah, you were best take my coxcomb.
- Kent. Why, fool?
- Fool. Why? For taking one's part that's out of favour. Nay, an thou
- canst not smile as the wind sits, thou'lt catch cold shortly.
- There, take my coxcomb! Why, this fellow hath banish'd two on's
- daughters, and did the third a blessing against his will. If
- thou follow him, thou must needs wear my coxcomb.- How now,
- nuncle? Would I had two coxcombs and two daughters!
- Lear. Why, my boy?
- Fool. If I gave them all my living, I'ld keep my coxcombs myself.
- There's mine! beg another of thy daughters.
- Lear. Take heed, sirrah- the whip.
- Fool. Truth's a dog must to kennel; he must be whipp'd out, when
- Lady the brach may stand by th' fire and stink.
- Lear. A pestilent gall to me!
- Fool. Sirrah, I'll teach thee a speech.
- Lear. Do.
- Fool. Mark it, nuncle.
- Have more than thou showest,
- Speak less than thou knowest,
- Lend less than thou owest,
- Ride more than thou goest,
- Learn more than thou trowest,
- Set less than thou throwest;
- Leave thy drink and thy whore,
- And keep in-a-door,
- And thou shalt have more
- Than two tens to a score.
- Kent. This is nothing, fool.
- Fool. Then 'tis like the breath of an unfeed lawyer- you gave me
- nothing for't. Can you make no use of nothing, nuncle?
- Lear. Why, no, boy. Nothing can be made out of nothing.
- Fool. [to Kent] Prithee tell him, so much the rent of his land
- comes to. He will not believe a fool.
- Lear. A bitter fool!
- Fool. Dost thou know the difference, my boy, between a bitter
- fool and a sweet fool?
- Lear. No, lad; teach me.
- Fool. That lord that counsell'd thee
- To give away thy land,
- Come place him here by me-
- Do thou for him stand.
- The sweet and bitter fool
- Will presently appear;
- The one in motley here,
- The other found out there.
- Lear. Dost thou call me fool, boy?
- Fool. All thy other titles thou hast given away; that thou wast
- born with.
- Kent. This is not altogether fool, my lord.
- Fool. No, faith; lords and great men will not let me. If I had a
- monopoly out, they would have part on't. And ladies too, they
- will not let me have all the fool to myself; they'll be
- snatching. Give me an egg, nuncle, and I'll give thee two
- crowns.
- Lear. What two crowns shall they be?
- Fool. Why, after I have cut the egg i' th' middle and eat up the
- meat, the two crowns of the egg. When thou clovest thy crown i'
- th' middle and gav'st away both parts, thou bor'st thine ass on
- thy back o'er the dirt. Thou hadst little wit in thy bald crown
- when thou gav'st thy golden one away. If I speak like myself in
- this, let him be whipp'd that first finds it so.
-
- [Sings] Fools had ne'er less grace in a year,
- For wise men are grown foppish;
- They know not how their wits to wear,
- Their manners are so apish.
-
- Lear. When were you wont to be so full of songs, sirrah?
- Fool. I have us'd it, nuncle, ever since thou mad'st thy daughters
- thy mother; for when thou gav'st them the rod, and put'st down
- thine own breeches,
-
- [Sings] Then they for sudden joy did weep,
- And I for sorrow sung,
- That such a king should play bo-peep
- And go the fools among.
-
- Prithee, nuncle, keep a schoolmaster that can teach thy fool to
- lie. I would fain learn to lie.
- Lear. An you lie, sirrah, we'll have you whipp'd.
- Fool. I marvel what kin thou and thy daughters are. They'll have me
- whipp'd for speaking true; thou'lt have me whipp'd for lying;
- and sometimes I am whipp'd for holding my peace. I had rather be
- any kind o' thing than a fool! And yet I would not be thee,
- nuncle. Thou hast pared thy wit o' both sides and left nothing
- i' th' middle. Here comes one o' the parings.
-
- Enter Goneril.
-
- Lear. How now, daughter? What makes that frontlet on? Methinks you
- are too much o' late i' th' frown.
- Fool. Thou wast a pretty fellow when thou hadst no need to care for
- her frowning. Now thou art an O without a figure. I am better
- than thou art now: I am a fool, thou art nothing.
- [To Goneril] Yes, forsooth, I will hold my tongue. So your face
- bids me, though you say nothing. Mum, mum!
-
- He that keeps nor crust nor crum,
- Weary of all, shall want some.-
-
- [Points at Lear] That's a sheal'd peascod.
- Gon. Not only, sir, this your all-licens'd fool,
- But other of your insolent retinue
- Do hourly carp and quarrel, breaking forth
- In rank and not-to-be-endured riots. Sir,
- I had thought, by making this well known unto you,
- To have found a safe redress, but now grow fearful,
- By what yourself, too, late have spoke and done,
- That you protect this course, and put it on
- By your allowance; which if you should, the fault
- Would not scape censure, nor the redresses sleep,
- Which, in the tender of a wholesome weal,
- Might in their working do you that offence
- Which else were shame, that then necessity
- Must call discreet proceeding.
- Fool. For you know, nuncle,
-
- The hedge-sparrow fed the cuckoo so long
- That it had it head bit off by it young.
-
- So out went the candle, and we were left darkling.
- Lear. Are you our daughter?
- Gon. Come, sir,
- I would you would make use of that good wisdom
- Whereof I know you are fraught, and put away
- These dispositions that of late transform you
- From what you rightly are.
- Fool. May not an ass know when the cart draws the horse?
- Whoop, Jug, I love thee!
- Lear. Doth any here know me? This is not Lear.
- Doth Lear walk thus? speak thus? Where are his eyes?
- Either his notion weakens, his discernings
- Are lethargied- Ha! waking? 'Tis not so!
- Who is it that can tell me who I am?
- Fool. Lear's shadow.
- Lear. I would learn that; for, by the marks of sovereignty,
- Knowledge, and reason, I should be false persuaded
- I had daughters.
- Fool. Which they will make an obedient father.
- Lear. Your name, fair gentlewoman?
- Gon. This admiration, sir, is much o' th' savour
- Of other your new pranks. I do beseech you
- To understand my purposes aright.
- As you are old and reverend, you should be wise.
- Here do you keep a hundred knights and squires;
- Men so disorder'd, so debosh'd, and bold
- That this our court, infected with their manners,
- Shows like a riotous inn. Epicurism and lust
- Make it more like a tavern or a brothel
- Than a grac'd palace. The shame itself doth speak
- For instant remedy. Be then desir'd
- By her that else will take the thing she begs
- A little to disquantity your train,
- And the remainder that shall still depend
- To be such men as may besort your age,
- Which know themselves, and you.
- Lear. Darkness and devils!
- Saddle my horses! Call my train together!
- Degenerate bastard, I'll not trouble thee;
- Yet have I left a daughter.
- Gon. You strike my people, and your disorder'd rabble
- Make servants of their betters.
-
- Enter Albany.
-
- Lear. Woe that too late repents!- O, sir, are you come?
- Is it your will? Speak, sir!- Prepare my horses.
- Ingratitude, thou marble-hearted fiend,
- More hideous when thou show'st thee in a child
- Than the sea-monster!
- Alb. Pray, sir, be patient.
- Lear. [to Goneril] Detested kite, thou liest!
- My train are men of choice and rarest parts,
- That all particulars of duty know
- And in the most exact regard support
- The worships of their name.- O most small fault,
- How ugly didst thou in Cordelia show!
- Which, like an engine, wrench'd my frame of nature
- From the fix'd place; drew from my heart all love
- And added to the gall. O Lear, Lear, Lear!
- Beat at this gate that let thy folly in [Strikes his head.]
- And thy dear judgment out! Go, go, my people.
- Alb. My lord, I am guiltless, as I am ignorant
- Of what hath mov'd you.
- Lear. It may be so, my lord.
- Hear, Nature, hear! dear goddess, hear!
- Suspend thy purpose, if thou didst intend
- To make this creature fruitful.
- Into her womb convey sterility;
- Dry up in her the organs of increase;
- And from her derogate body never spring
- A babe to honour her! If she must teem,
- Create her child of spleen, that it may live
- And be a thwart disnatur'd torment to her.
- Let it stamp wrinkles in her brow of youth,
- With cadent tears fret channels in her cheeks,
- Turn all her mother's pains and benefits
- To laughter and contempt, that she may feel
- How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is
- To have a thankless child! Away, away! Exit.
- Alb. Now, gods that we adore, whereof comes this?
- Gon. Never afflict yourself to know the cause;
- But let his disposition have that scope
- That dotage gives it.
-
- Enter Lear.
-
- Lear. What, fifty of my followers at a clap?
- Within a fortnight?
- Alb. What's the matter, sir?
- Lear. I'll tell thee. [To Goneril] Life and death! I am asham'd
- That thou hast power to shake my manhood thus;
- That these hot tears, which break from me perforce,
- Should make thee worth them. Blasts and fogs upon thee!
- Th' untented woundings of a father's curse
- Pierce every sense about thee!- Old fond eyes,
- Beweep this cause again, I'll pluck ye out,
- And cast you, with the waters that you lose,
- To temper clay. Yea, is it come to this?
- Let it be so. Yet have I left a daughter,
- Who I am sure is kind and comfortable.
- When she shall hear this of thee, with her nails
- She'll flay thy wolvish visage. Thou shalt find
- That I'll resume the shape which thou dost think
- I have cast off for ever; thou shalt, I warrant thee.
- Exeunt [Lear, Kent, and Attendants].
- Gon. Do you mark that, my lord?
- Alb. I cannot be so partial, Goneril,
- To the great love I bear you -
- Gon. Pray you, content.- What, Oswald, ho!
- [To the Fool] You, sir, more knave than fool, after your master!
- Fool. Nuncle Lear, nuncle Lear, tarry! Take the fool with thee.
-
- A fox when one has caught her,
- And such a daughter,
- Should sure to the slaughter,
- If my cap would buy a halter.
- So the fool follows after. Exit.
- Gon. This man hath had good counsel! A hundred knights?
- 'Tis politic and safe to let him keep
- At point a hundred knights; yes, that on every dream,
- Each buzz, each fancy, each complaint, dislike,
- He may enguard his dotage with their pow'rs
- And hold our lives in mercy.- Oswald, I say!
- Alb. Well, you may fear too far.
- Gon. Safer than trust too far.
- Let me still take away the harms I fear,
- Not fear still to be taken. I know his heart.
- What he hath utter'd I have writ my sister.
- If she sustain him and his hundred knights,
- When I have show'd th' unfitness-
-
- Enter [Oswald the] Steward.
-
- How now, Oswald?
- What, have you writ that letter to my sister?
- Osw. Yes, madam.
- Gon. Take you some company, and away to horse!
- Inform her full of my particular fear,
- And thereto add such reasons of your own
- As may compact it more. Get you gone,
- And hasten your return. [Exit Oswald.] No, no, my lord!
- This milky gentleness and course of yours,
- Though I condemn it not, yet, under pardon,
- You are much more at task for want of wisdom
- Than prais'd for harmful mildness.
- Alb. How far your eyes may pierce I cannot tell.
- Striving to better, oft we mar what's well.
- Gon. Nay then-
- Alb. Well, well; th' event. Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-Scene V.
-Court before the Duke of Albany's Palace.
-
-Enter Lear, Kent, and Fool.
-
- Lear. Go you before to Gloucester with these letters. Acquaint my
- daughter no further with anything you know than comes from her
- demand out of the letter. If your diligence be not speedy, I
- shall be there afore you.
- Kent. I will not sleep, my lord, till I have delivered your letter.
-Exit.
- Fool. If a man's brains were in's heels, were't not in danger of
- kibes?
- Lear. Ay, boy.
- Fool. Then I prithee be merry. Thy wit shall ne'er go slip-shod.
- Lear. Ha, ha, ha!
- Fool. Shalt see thy other daughter will use thee kindly; for though
- she's as like this as a crab's like an apple, yet I can tell
- what I can tell.
- Lear. What canst tell, boy?
- Fool. She'll taste as like this as a crab does to a crab. Thou
- canst tell why one's nose stands i' th' middle on's face?
- Lear. No.
- Fool. Why, to keep one's eyes of either side's nose, that what a
- man cannot smell out, 'a may spy into.
- Lear. I did her wrong.
- Fool. Canst tell how an oyster makes his shell?
- Lear. No.
- Fool. Nor I neither; but I can tell why a snail has a house.
- Lear. Why?
- Fool. Why, to put's head in; not to give it away to his daughters,
- and leave his horns without a case.
- Lear. I will forget my nature. So kind a father!- Be my horses
- ready?
- Fool. Thy asses are gone about 'em. The reason why the seven stars
- are no moe than seven is a pretty reason.
- Lear. Because they are not eight?
- Fool. Yes indeed. Thou wouldst make a good fool.
- Lear. To tak't again perforce! Monster ingratitude!
- Fool. If thou wert my fool, nuncle, I'ld have thee beaten for being
- old before thy time.
- Lear. How's that?
- Fool. Thou shouldst not have been old till thou hadst been wise.
- Lear. O, let me not be mad, not mad, sweet heaven!
- Keep me in temper; I would not be mad!
-
- [Enter a Gentleman.]
-
- How now? Are the horses ready?
- Gent. Ready, my lord.
- Lear. Come, boy.
- Fool. She that's a maid now, and laughs at my departure,
- Shall not be a maid long, unless things be cut shorter
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT II. Scene I.
-A court within the Castle of the Earl of Gloucester.
-
-Enter [Edmund the] Bastard and Curan, meeting.
-
- Edm. Save thee, Curan.
- Cur. And you, sir. I have been with your father, and given him
- notice that the Duke of Cornwall and Regan his Duchess will be
- here with him this night.
- Edm. How comes that?
- Cur. Nay, I know not. You have heard of the news abroad- I mean the
- whisper'd ones, for they are yet but ear-kissing arguments?
- Edm. Not I. Pray you, what are they?
- Cur. Have you heard of no likely wars toward 'twixt the two Dukes
- of Cornwall and Albany?
- Edm. Not a word.
- Cur. You may do, then, in time. Fare you well, sir. Exit.
- Edm. The Duke be here to-night? The better! best!
- This weaves itself perforce into my business.
- My father hath set guard to take my brother;
- And I have one thing, of a queasy question,
- Which I must act. Briefness and fortune, work!
- Brother, a word! Descend! Brother, I say!
-
- Enter Edgar.
-
- My father watches. O sir, fly this place!
- Intelligence is given where you are hid.
- You have now the good advantage of the night.
- Have you not spoken 'gainst the Duke of Cornwall?
- He's coming hither; now, i' th' night, i' th' haste,
- And Regan with him. Have you nothing said
- Upon his party 'gainst the Duke of Albany?
- Advise yourself.
- Edg. I am sure on't, not a word.
- Edm. I hear my father coming. Pardon me!
- In cunning I must draw my sword upon you.
- Draw, seem to defend yourself; now quit you well.-
- Yield! Come before my father. Light, ho, here!
- Fly, brother.- Torches, torches!- So farewell.
- Exit Edgar.
- Some blood drawn on me would beget opinion
- Of my more fierce endeavour. [Stabs his arm.] I have seen
- drunkards
- Do more than this in sport.- Father, father!-
- Stop, stop! No help?
-
- Enter Gloucester, and Servants with torches.
-
- Glou. Now, Edmund, where's the villain?
- Edm. Here stood he in the dark, his sharp sword out,
- Mumbling of wicked charms, conjuring the moon
- To stand 's auspicious mistress.
- Glou. But where is he?
- Edm. Look, sir, I bleed.
- Glou. Where is the villain, Edmund?
- Edm. Fled this way, sir. When by no means he could-
- Glou. Pursue him, ho! Go after. [Exeunt some Servants].
- By no means what?
- Edm. Persuade me to the murther of your lordship;
- But that I told him the revenging gods
- 'Gainst parricides did all their thunders bend;
- Spoke with how manifold and strong a bond
- The child was bound to th' father- sir, in fine,
- Seeing how loathly opposite I stood
- To his unnatural purpose, in fell motion
- With his prepared sword he charges home
- My unprovided body, lanch'd mine arm;
- But when he saw my best alarum'd spirits,
- Bold in the quarrel's right, rous'd to th' encounter,
- Or whether gasted by the noise I made,
- Full suddenly he fled.
- Glou. Let him fly far.
- Not in this land shall he remain uncaught;
- And found- dispatch. The noble Duke my master,
- My worthy arch and patron, comes to-night.
- By his authority I will proclaim it
- That he which find, him shall deserve our thanks,
- Bringing the murderous caitiff to the stake;
- He that conceals him, death.
- Edm. When I dissuaded him from his intent
- And found him pight to do it, with curst speech
- I threaten'd to discover him. He replied,
- 'Thou unpossessing bastard, dost thou think,
- If I would stand against thee, would the reposal
- Of any trust, virtue, or worth in thee
- Make thy words faith'd? No. What I should deny
- (As this I would; ay, though thou didst produce
- My very character), I'ld turn it all
- To thy suggestion, plot, and damned practice;
- And thou must make a dullard of the world,
- If they not thought the profits of my death
- Were very pregnant and potential spurs
- To make thee seek it.'
- Glou. Strong and fast'ned villain!
- Would he deny his letter? I never got him.
- Tucket within.
- Hark, the Duke's trumpets! I know not why he comes.
- All ports I'll bar; the villain shall not scape;
- The Duke must grant me that. Besides, his picture
- I will send far and near, that all the kingdom
- May have due note of him, and of my land,
- Loyal and natural boy, I'll work the means
- To make thee capable.
-
- Enter Cornwall, Regan, and Attendants.
-
- Corn. How now, my noble friend? Since I came hither
- (Which I can call but now) I have heard strange news.
- Reg. If it be true, all vengeance comes too short
- Which can pursue th' offender. How dost, my lord?
- Glou. O madam, my old heart is crack'd, it's crack'd!
- Reg. What, did my father's godson seek your life?
- He whom my father nam'd? Your Edgar?
- Glou. O lady, lady, shame would have it hid!
- Reg. Was he not companion with the riotous knights
- That tend upon my father?
- Glou. I know not, madam. 'Tis too bad, too bad!
- Edm. Yes, madam, he was of that consort.
- Reg. No marvel then though he were ill affected.
- 'Tis they have put him on the old man's death,
- To have th' expense and waste of his revenues.
- I have this present evening from my sister
- Been well inform'd of them, and with such cautions
- That, if they come to sojourn at my house,
- I'll not be there.
- Corn. Nor I, assure thee, Regan.
- Edmund, I hear that you have shown your father
- A childlike office.
- Edm. 'Twas my duty, sir.
- Glou. He did bewray his practice, and receiv'd
- This hurt you see, striving to apprehend him.
- Corn. Is he pursued?
- Glou. Ay, my good lord.
- Corn. If he be taken, he shall never more
- Be fear'd of doing harm. Make your own purpose,
- How in my strength you please. For you, Edmund,
- Whose virtue and obedience doth this instant
- So much commend itself, you shall be ours.
- Natures of such deep trust we shall much need;
- You we first seize on.
- Edm. I shall serve you, sir,
- Truly, however else.
- Glou. For him I thank your Grace.
- Corn. You know not why we came to visit you-
- Reg. Thus out of season, threading dark-ey'd night.
- Occasions, noble Gloucester, of some poise,
- Wherein we must have use of your advice.
- Our father he hath writ, so hath our sister,
- Of differences, which I best thought it fit
- To answer from our home. The several messengers
- From hence attend dispatch. Our good old friend,
- Lay comforts to your bosom, and bestow
- Your needful counsel to our business,
- Which craves the instant use.
- Glou. I serve you, madam.
- Your Graces are right welcome.
- Exeunt. Flourish.
-
-
-
-
-Scene II.
-Before Gloucester's Castle.
-
-Enter Kent and [Oswald the] Steward, severally.
-
- Osw. Good dawning to thee, friend. Art of this house?
- Kent. Ay.
- Osw. Where may we set our horses?
- Kent. I' th' mire.
- Osw. Prithee, if thou lov'st me, tell me.
- Kent. I love thee not.
- Osw. Why then, I care not for thee.
- Kent. If I had thee in Lipsbury Pinfold, I would make thee care for
- me.
- Osw. Why dost thou use me thus? I know thee not.
- Kent. Fellow, I know thee.
- Osw. What dost thou know me for?
- Kent. A knave; a rascal; an eater of broken meats; a base, proud,
- shallow, beggarly, three-suited, hundred-pound, filthy,
- worsted-stocking knave; a lily-liver'd, action-taking, whoreson,
- glass-gazing, superserviceable, finical rogue;
- one-trunk-inheriting slave; one that wouldst be a bawd in way of
- good service, and art nothing but the composition of a knave,
- beggar, coward, pander, and the son and heir of a mongrel bitch;
- one whom I will beat into clamorous whining, if thou deny the
- least syllable of thy addition.
- Osw. Why, what a monstrous fellow art thou, thus to rail on one
- that's neither known of thee nor knows thee!
- Kent. What a brazen-fac'd varlet art thou, to deny thou knowest me!
- Is it two days ago since I beat thee and tripp'd up thy heels
- before the King? [Draws his sword.] Draw, you rogue! for, though
- it be night, yet the moon shines. I'll make a sop o' th'
- moonshine o' you. Draw, you whoreson cullionly barbermonger!
- draw!
- Osw. Away! I have nothing to do with thee.
- Kent. Draw, you rascal! You come with letters against the King, and
- take Vanity the puppet's part against the royalty of her father.
- Draw, you rogue, or I'll so carbonado your shanks! Draw, you
- rascal! Come your ways!
- Osw. Help, ho! murther! help!
- Kent. Strike, you slave! Stand, rogue! Stand, you neat slave!
- Strike! [Beats him.]
- Osw. Help, ho! murther! murther!
-
- Enter Edmund, with his rapier drawn, Gloucester, Cornwall,
- Regan, Servants.
-
- Edm. How now? What's the matter? Parts [them].
- Kent. With you, goodman boy, an you please! Come, I'll flesh ye!
- Come on, young master!
- Glou. Weapons? arms? What's the matter here?
- Corn. Keep peace, upon your lives!
- He dies that strikes again. What is the matter?
- Reg. The messengers from our sister and the King
- Corn. What is your difference? Speak.
- Osw. I am scarce in breath, my lord.
- Kent. No marvel, you have so bestirr'd your valour. You cowardly
- rascal, nature disclaims in thee; a tailor made thee.
- Corn. Thou art a strange fellow. A tailor make a man?
- Kent. Ay, a tailor, sir. A stonecutter or a painter could not have
- made him so ill, though he had been but two hours at the trade.
- Corn. Speak yet, how grew your quarrel?
- Osw. This ancient ruffian, sir, whose life I have spar'd
- At suit of his grey beard-
- Kent. Thou whoreson zed! thou unnecessary letter! My lord, if
- you'll give me leave, I will tread this unbolted villain into
- mortar and daub the walls of a jakes with him. 'Spare my grey
- beard,' you wagtail?
- Corn. Peace, sirrah!
- You beastly knave, know you no reverence?
- Kent. Yes, sir, but anger hath a privilege.
- Corn. Why art thou angry?
- Kent. That such a slave as this should wear a sword,
- Who wears no honesty. Such smiling rogues as these,
- Like rats, oft bite the holy cords atwain
- Which are too intrinse t' unloose; smooth every passion
- That in the natures of their lords rebel,
- Bring oil to fire, snow to their colder moods;
- Renege, affirm, and turn their halcyon beaks
- With every gale and vary of their masters,
- Knowing naught (like dogs) but following.
- A plague upon your epileptic visage!
- Smile you my speeches, as I were a fool?
- Goose, an I had you upon Sarum Plain,
- I'ld drive ye cackling home to Camelot.
- Corn. What, art thou mad, old fellow?
- Glou. How fell you out? Say that.
- Kent. No contraries hold more antipathy
- Than I and such a knave.
- Corn. Why dost thou call him knave? What is his fault?
- Kent. His countenance likes me not.
- Corn. No more perchance does mine, or his, or hers.
- Kent. Sir, 'tis my occupation to be plain.
- I have seen better faces in my time
- Than stands on any shoulder that I see
- Before me at this instant.
- Corn. This is some fellow
- Who, having been prais'd for bluntness, doth affect
- A saucy roughness, and constrains the garb
- Quite from his nature. He cannot flatter, he!
- An honest mind and plain- he must speak truth!
- An they will take it, so; if not, he's plain.
- These kind of knaves I know which in this plainness
- Harbour more craft and more corrupter ends
- Than twenty silly-ducking observants
- That stretch their duties nicely.
- Kent. Sir, in good faith, in sincere verity,
- Under th' allowance of your great aspect,
- Whose influence, like the wreath of radiant fire
- On flickering Phoebus' front-
- Corn. What mean'st by this?
- Kent. To go out of my dialect, which you discommend so much. I
- know, sir, I am no flatterer. He that beguil'd you in a plain
- accent was a plain knave, which, for my part, I will not be,
- though I should win your displeasure to entreat me to't.
- Corn. What was th' offence you gave him?
- Osw. I never gave him any.
- It pleas'd the King his master very late
- To strike at me, upon his misconstruction;
- When he, conjunct, and flattering his displeasure,
- Tripp'd me behind; being down, insulted, rail'd
- And put upon him such a deal of man
- That worthied him, got praises of the King
- For him attempting who was self-subdu'd;
- And, in the fleshment of this dread exploit,
- Drew on me here again.
- Kent. None of these rogues and cowards
- But Ajax is their fool.
- Corn. Fetch forth the stocks!
- You stubborn ancient knave, you reverent braggart,
- We'll teach you-
- Kent. Sir, I am too old to learn.
- Call not your stocks for me. I serve the King;
- On whose employment I was sent to you.
- You shall do small respect, show too bold malice
- Against the grace and person of my master,
- Stocking his messenger.
- Corn. Fetch forth the stocks! As I have life and honour,
- There shall he sit till noon.
- Reg. Till noon? Till night, my lord, and all night too!
- Kent. Why, madam, if I were your father's dog,
- You should not use me so.
- Reg. Sir, being his knave, I will.
- Corn. This is a fellow of the selfsame colour
- Our sister speaks of. Come, bring away the stocks!
- Stocks brought out.
- Glou. Let me beseech your Grace not to do so.
- His fault is much, and the good King his master
- Will check him for't. Your purpos'd low correction
- Is such as basest and contemn'dest wretches
- For pilf'rings and most common trespasses
- Are punish'd with. The King must take it ill
- That he, so slightly valued in his messenger,
- Should have him thus restrain'd.
- Corn. I'll answer that.
- Reg. My sister may receive it much more worse,
- To have her gentleman abus'd, assaulted,
- For following her affairs. Put in his legs.-
- [Kent is put in the stocks.]
- Come, my good lord, away.
- Exeunt [all but Gloucester and Kent].
- Glou. I am sorry for thee, friend. 'Tis the Duke's pleasure,
- Whose disposition, all the world well knows,
- Will not be rubb'd nor stopp'd. I'll entreat for thee.
- Kent. Pray do not, sir. I have watch'd and travell'd hard.
- Some time I shall sleep out, the rest I'll whistle.
- A good man's fortune may grow out at heels.
- Give you good morrow!
- Glou. The Duke 's to blame in this; 'twill be ill taken.
-Exit.
- Kent. Good King, that must approve the common saw,
- Thou out of heaven's benediction com'st
- To the warm sun!
- Approach, thou beacon to this under globe,
- That by thy comfortable beams I may
- Peruse this letter. Nothing almost sees miracles
- But misery. I know 'tis from Cordelia,
- Who hath most fortunately been inform'd
- Of my obscured course- and [reads] 'shall find time
- From this enormous state, seeking to give
- Losses their remedies'- All weary and o'erwatch'd,
- Take vantage, heavy eyes, not to behold
- This shameful lodging.
- Fortune, good night; smile once more, turn thy wheel.
- Sleeps.
-
-
-
-
-Scene III.
-The open country.
-
-Enter Edgar.
-
- Edg. I heard myself proclaim'd,
- And by the happy hollow of a tree
- Escap'd the hunt. No port is free, no place
- That guard and most unusual vigilance
- Does not attend my taking. Whiles I may scape,
- I will preserve myself; and am bethought
- To take the basest and most poorest shape
- That ever penury, in contempt of man,
- Brought near to beast. My face I'll grime with filth,
- Blanket my loins, elf all my hair in knots,
- And with presented nakedness outface
- The winds and persecutions of the sky.
- The country gives me proof and precedent
- Of Bedlam beggars, who, with roaring voices,
- Strike in their numb'd and mortified bare arms
- Pins, wooden pricks, nails, sprigs of rosemary;
- And with this horrible object, from low farms,
- Poor pelting villages, sheepcotes, and mills,
- Sometime with lunatic bans, sometime with prayers,
- Enforce their charity. 'Poor Turlygod! poor Tom!'
- That's something yet! Edgar I nothing am. Exit.
-
-
-
-
-Scene IV.
-Before Gloucester's Castle; Kent in the stocks.
-
-Enter Lear, Fool, and Gentleman.
-
- Lear. 'Tis strange that they should so depart from home,
- And not send back my messenger.
- Gent. As I learn'd,
- The night before there was no purpose in them
- Of this remove.
- Kent. Hail to thee, noble master!
- Lear. Ha!
- Mak'st thou this shame thy pastime?
- Kent. No, my lord.
- Fool. Ha, ha! look! he wears cruel garters. Horses are tied by the
- head, dogs and bears by th' neck, monkeys by th' loins, and men
- by th' legs. When a man's over-lusty at legs, then he wears
- wooden nether-stocks.
- Lear. What's he that hath so much thy place mistook
- To set thee here?
- Kent. It is both he and she-
- Your son and daughter.
- Lear. No.
- Kent. Yes.
- Lear. No, I say.
- Kent. I say yea.
- Lear. No, no, they would not!
- Kent. Yes, they have.
- Lear. By Jupiter, I swear no!
- Kent. By Juno, I swear ay!
- Lear. They durst not do't;
- They would not, could not do't. 'Tis worse than murther
- To do upon respect such violent outrage.
- Resolve me with all modest haste which way
- Thou mightst deserve or they impose this usage,
- Coming from us.
- Kent. My lord, when at their home
- I did commend your Highness' letters to them,
- Ere I was risen from the place that show'd
- My duty kneeling, came there a reeking post,
- Stew'd in his haste, half breathless, panting forth
- From Goneril his mistress salutations;
- Deliver'd letters, spite of intermission,
- Which presently they read; on whose contents,
- They summon'd up their meiny, straight took horse,
- Commanded me to follow and attend
- The leisure of their answer, gave me cold looks,
- And meeting here the other messenger,
- Whose welcome I perceiv'd had poison'd mine-
- Being the very fellow which of late
- Display'd so saucily against your Highness-
- Having more man than wit about me, drew.
- He rais'd the house with loud and coward cries.
- Your son and daughter found this trespass worth
- The shame which here it suffers.
- Fool. Winter's not gone yet, if the wild geese fly that way.
-
- Fathers that wear rags
- Do make their children blind;
- But fathers that bear bags
- Shall see their children kind.
- Fortune, that arrant whore,
- Ne'er turns the key to th' poor.
-
- But for all this, thou shalt have as many dolours for thy
- daughters as thou canst tell in a year.
- Lear. O, how this mother swells up toward my heart!
- Hysterica passio! Down, thou climbing sorrow!
- Thy element's below! Where is this daughter?
- Kent. With the Earl, sir, here within.
- Lear. Follow me not;
- Stay here. Exit.
- Gent. Made you no more offence but what you speak of?
- Kent. None.
- How chance the King comes with so small a number?
- Fool. An thou hadst been set i' th' stocks for that question,
- thou'dst well deserv'd it.
- Kent. Why, fool?
- Fool. We'll set thee to school to an ant, to teach thee there's no
- labouring i' th' winter. All that follow their noses are led by
- their eyes but blind men, and there's not a nose among twenty
- but can smell him that's stinking. Let go thy hold when a great
- wheel runs down a hill, lest it break thy neck with following
- it; but the great one that goes upward, let him draw thee after.
- When a wise man gives thee better counsel, give me mine again. I
- would have none but knaves follow it, since a fool gives it.
- That sir which serves and seeks for gain,
- And follows but for form,
- Will pack when it begins to rain
- And leave thee in the storm.
- But I will tarry; the fool will stay,
- And let the wise man fly.
- The knave turns fool that runs away;
- The fool no knave, perdy.
- Kent. Where learn'd you this, fool?
- Fool. Not i' th' stocks, fool.
-
- Enter Lear and Gloucester
-
- Lear. Deny to speak with me? They are sick? they are weary?
- They have travell'd all the night? Mere fetches-
- The images of revolt and flying off!
- Fetch me a better answer.
- Glou. My dear lord,
- You know the fiery quality of the Duke,
- How unremovable and fix'd he is
- In his own course.
- Lear. Vengeance! plague! death! confusion!
- Fiery? What quality? Why, Gloucester, Gloucester,
- I'ld speak with the Duke of Cornwall and his wife.
- Glou. Well, my good lord, I have inform'd them so.
- Lear. Inform'd them? Dost thou understand me, man?
- Glou. Ay, my good lord.
- Lear. The King would speak with Cornwall; the dear father
- Would with his daughter speak, commands her service.
- Are they inform'd of this? My breath and blood!
- Fiery? the fiery Duke? Tell the hot Duke that-
- No, but not yet! May be he is not well.
- Infirmity doth still neglect all office
- Whereto our health is bound. We are not ourselves
- When nature, being oppress'd, commands the mind
- To suffer with the body. I'll forbear;
- And am fallen out with my more headier will,
- To take the indispos'd and sickly fit
- For the sound man.- Death on my state! Wherefore
- Should be sit here? This act persuades me
- That this remotion of the Duke and her
- Is practice only. Give me my servant forth.
- Go tell the Duke and 's wife I'ld speak with them-
- Now, presently. Bid them come forth and hear me,
- Or at their chamber door I'll beat the drum
- Till it cry sleep to death.
- Glou. I would have all well betwixt you. Exit.
- Lear. O me, my heart, my rising heart! But down!
- Fool. Cry to it, nuncle, as the cockney did to the eels when she
- put 'em i' th' paste alive. She knapp'd 'em o' th' coxcombs with
- a stick and cried 'Down, wantons, down!' 'Twas her brother that,
- in pure kindness to his horse, buttered his hay.
-
- Enter Cornwall, Regan, Gloucester, Servants.
-
- Lear. Good morrow to you both.
- Corn. Hail to your Grace!
- Kent here set at liberty.
- Reg. I am glad to see your Highness.
- Lear. Regan, I think you are; I know what reason
- I have to think so. If thou shouldst not be glad,
- I would divorce me from thy mother's tomb,
- Sepulchring an adultress. [To Kent] O, are you free?
- Some other time for that.- Beloved Regan,
- Thy sister's naught. O Regan, she hath tied
- Sharp-tooth'd unkindness, like a vulture, here!
- [Lays his hand on his heart.]
- I can scarce speak to thee. Thou'lt not believe
- With how deprav'd a quality- O Regan!
- Reg. I pray you, sir, take patience. I have hope
- You less know how to value her desert
- Than she to scant her duty.
- Lear. Say, how is that?
- Reg. I cannot think my sister in the least
- Would fail her obligation. If, sir, perchance
- She have restrain'd the riots of your followers,
- 'Tis on such ground, and to such wholesome end,
- As clears her from all blame.
- Lear. My curses on her!
- Reg. O, sir, you are old!
- Nature in you stands on the very verge
- Of her confine. You should be rul'd, and led
- By some discretion that discerns your state
- Better than you yourself. Therefore I pray you
- That to our sister you do make return;
- Say you have wrong'd her, sir.
- Lear. Ask her forgiveness?
- Do you but mark how this becomes the house:
- 'Dear daughter, I confess that I am old. [Kneels.]
- Age is unnecessary. On my knees I beg
- That you'll vouchsafe me raiment, bed, and food.'
- Reg. Good sir, no more! These are unsightly tricks.
- Return you to my sister.
- Lear. [rises] Never, Regan!
- She hath abated me of half my train;
- Look'd black upon me; struck me with her tongue,
- Most serpent-like, upon the very heart.
- All the stor'd vengeances of heaven fall
- On her ingrateful top! Strike her young bones,
- You taking airs, with lameness!
- Corn. Fie, sir, fie!
- Lear. You nimble lightnings, dart your blinding flames
- Into her scornful eyes! Infect her beauty,
- You fen-suck'd fogs, drawn by the pow'rful sun,
- To fall and blast her pride!
- Reg. O the blest gods! so will you wish on me
- When the rash mood is on.
- Lear. No, Regan, thou shalt never have my curse.
- Thy tender-hefted nature shall not give
- Thee o'er to harshness. Her eyes are fierce; but thine
- Do comfort, and not burn. 'Tis not in thee
- To grudge my pleasures, to cut off my train,
- To bandy hasty words, to scant my sizes,
- And, in conclusion, to oppose the bolt
- Against my coming in. Thou better know'st
- The offices of nature, bond of childhood,
- Effects of courtesy, dues of gratitude.
- Thy half o' th' kingdom hast thou not forgot,
- Wherein I thee endow'd.
- Reg. Good sir, to th' purpose.
- Tucket within.
- Lear. Who put my man i' th' stocks?
- Corn. What trumpet's that?
- Reg. I know't- my sister's. This approves her letter,
- That she would soon be here.
-
- Enter [Oswald the] Steward.
-
- Is your lady come?
- Lear. This is a slave, whose easy-borrowed pride
- Dwells in the fickle grace of her he follows.
- Out, varlet, from my sight!
- Corn. What means your Grace?
-
- Enter Goneril.
-
- Lear. Who stock'd my servant? Regan, I have good hope
- Thou didst not know on't.- Who comes here? O heavens!
- If you do love old men, if your sweet sway
- Allow obedience- if yourselves are old,
- Make it your cause! Send down, and take my part!
- [To Goneril] Art not asham'd to look upon this beard?-
- O Regan, wilt thou take her by the hand?
- Gon. Why not by th' hand, sir? How have I offended?
- All's not offence that indiscretion finds
- And dotage terms so.
- Lear. O sides, you are too tough!
- Will you yet hold? How came my man i' th' stocks?
- Corn. I set him there, sir; but his own disorders
- Deserv'd much less advancement.
- Lear. You? Did you?
- Reg. I pray you, father, being weak, seem so.
- If, till the expiration of your month,
- You will return and sojourn with my sister,
- Dismissing half your train, come then to me.
- I am now from home, and out of that provision
- Which shall be needful for your entertainment.
- Lear. Return to her, and fifty men dismiss'd?
- No, rather I abjure all roofs, and choose
- To wage against the enmity o' th' air,
- To be a comrade with the wolf and owl-
- Necessity's sharp pinch! Return with her?
- Why, the hot-blooded France, that dowerless took
- Our youngest born, I could as well be brought
- To knee his throne, and, squire-like, pension beg
- To keep base life afoot. Return with her?
- Persuade me rather to be slave and sumpter
- To this detested groom. [Points at Oswald.]
- Gon. At your choice, sir.
- Lear. I prithee, daughter, do not make me mad.
- I will not trouble thee, my child; farewell.
- We'll no more meet, no more see one another.
- But yet thou art my flesh, my blood, my daughter;
- Or rather a disease that's in my flesh,
- Which I must needs call mine. Thou art a boil,
- A plague sore, an embossed carbuncle
- In my corrupted blood. But I'll not chide thee.
- Let shame come when it will, I do not call it.
- I do not bid the Thunder-bearer shoot
- Nor tell tales of thee to high-judging Jove.
- Mend when thou canst; be better at thy leisure;
- I can be patient, I can stay with Regan,
- I and my hundred knights.
- Reg. Not altogether so.
- I look'd not for you yet, nor am provided
- For your fit welcome. Give ear, sir, to my sister;
- For those that mingle reason with your passion
- Must be content to think you old, and so-
- But she knows what she does.
- Lear. Is this well spoken?
- Reg. I dare avouch it, sir. What, fifty followers?
- Is it not well? What should you need of more?
- Yea, or so many, sith that both charge and danger
- Speak 'gainst so great a number? How in one house
- Should many people, under two commands,
- Hold amity? 'Tis hard; almost impossible.
- Gon. Why might not you, my lord, receive attendance
- From those that she calls servants, or from mine?
- Reg. Why not, my lord? If then they chanc'd to slack ye,
- We could control them. If you will come to me
- (For now I spy a danger), I entreat you
- To bring but five-and-twenty. To no more
- Will I give place or notice.
- Lear. I gave you all-
- Reg. And in good time you gave it!
- Lear. Made you my guardians, my depositaries;
- But kept a reservation to be followed
- With such a number. What, must I come to you
- With five-and-twenty, Regan? Said you so?
- Reg. And speak't again my lord. No more with me.
- Lear. Those wicked creatures yet do look well-favour'd
- When others are more wicked; not being the worst
- Stands in some rank of praise. [To Goneril] I'll go with thee.
- Thy fifty yet doth double five-and-twenty,
- And thou art twice her love.
- Gon. Hear, me, my lord.
- What need you five-and-twenty, ten, or five,
- To follow in a house where twice so many
- Have a command to tend you?
- Reg. What need one?
- Lear. O, reason not the need! Our basest beggars
- Are in the poorest thing superfluous.
- Allow not nature more than nature needs,
- Man's life is cheap as beast's. Thou art a lady:
- If only to go warm were gorgeous,
- Why, nature needs not what thou gorgeous wear'st
- Which scarcely keeps thee warm. But, for true need-
- You heavens, give me that patience, patience I need!
- You see me here, you gods, a poor old man,
- As full of grief as age; wretched in both.
- If it be you that stirs these daughters' hearts
- Against their father, fool me not so much
- To bear it tamely; touch me with noble anger,
- And let not women's weapons, water drops,
- Stain my man's cheeks! No, you unnatural hags!
- I will have such revenges on you both
- That all the world shall- I will do such things-
- What they are yet, I know not; but they shall be
- The terrors of the earth! You think I'll weep.
- No, I'll not weep.
- I have full cause of weeping, but this heart
- Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws
- Or ere I'll weep. O fool, I shall go mad!
- Exeunt Lear, Gloucester, Kent, and Fool. Storm and
- tempest.
- Corn. Let us withdraw; 'twill be a storm.
- Reg. This house is little; the old man and 's people
- Cannot be well bestow'd.
- Gon. 'Tis his own blame; hath put himself from rest
- And must needs taste his folly.
- Reg. For his particular, I'll receive him gladly,
- But not one follower.
- Gon. So am I purpos'd.
- Where is my Lord of Gloucester?
- Corn. Followed the old man forth.
-
- Enter Gloucester.
-
- He is return'd.
- Glou. The King is in high rage.
- Corn. Whither is he going?
- Glou. He calls to horse, but will I know not whither.
- Corn. 'Tis best to give him way; he leads himself.
- Gon. My lord, entreat him by no means to stay.
- Glou. Alack, the night comes on, and the bleak winds
- Do sorely ruffle. For many miles about
- There's scarce a bush.
- Reg. O, sir, to wilful men
- The injuries that they themselves procure
- Must be their schoolmasters. Shut up your doors.
- He is attended with a desperate train,
- And what they may incense him to, being apt
- To have his ear abus'd, wisdom bids fear.
- Corn. Shut up your doors, my lord: 'tis a wild night.
- My Regan counsels well. Come out o' th' storm. [Exeunt.]
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT III. Scene I.
-A heath.
-
-Storm still. Enter Kent and a Gentleman at several doors.
-
- Kent. Who's there, besides foul weather?
- Gent. One minded like the weather, most unquietly.
- Kent. I know you. Where's the King?
- Gent. Contending with the fretful elements;
- Bids the wind blow the earth into the sea,
- Or swell the curled waters 'bove the main,
- That things might change or cease; tears his white hair,
- Which the impetuous blasts, with eyeless rage,
- Catch in their fury and make nothing of;
- Strives in his little world of man to outscorn
- The to-and-fro-conflicting wind and rain.
- This night, wherein the cub-drawn bear would couch,
- The lion and the belly-pinched wolf
- Keep their fur dry, unbonneted he runs,
- And bids what will take all.
- Kent. But who is with him?
- Gent. None but the fool, who labours to outjest
- His heart-struck injuries.
- Kent. Sir, I do know you,
- And dare upon the warrant of my note
- Commend a dear thing to you. There is division
- (Although as yet the face of it be cover'd
- With mutual cunning) 'twixt Albany and Cornwall;
- Who have (as who have not, that their great stars
- Thron'd and set high?) servants, who seem no less,
- Which are to France the spies and speculations
- Intelligent of our state. What hath been seen,
- Either in snuffs and packings of the Dukes,
- Or the hard rein which both of them have borne
- Against the old kind King, or something deeper,
- Whereof, perchance, these are but furnishings-
- But, true it is, from France there comes a power
- Into this scattered kingdom, who already,
- Wise in our negligence, have secret feet
- In some of our best ports and are at point
- To show their open banner. Now to you:
- If on my credit you dare build so far
- To make your speed to Dover, you shall find
- Some that will thank you, making just report
- Of how unnatural and bemadding sorrow
- The King hath cause to plain.
- I am a gentleman of blood and breeding,
- And from some knowledge and assurance offer
- This office to you.
- Gent. I will talk further with you.
- Kent. No, do not.
- For confirmation that I am much more
- Than my out-wall, open this purse and take
- What it contains. If you shall see Cordelia
- (As fear not but you shall), show her this ring,
- And she will tell you who your fellow is
- That yet you do not know. Fie on this storm!
- I will go seek the King.
- Gent. Give me your hand. Have you no more to say?
- Kent. Few words, but, to effect, more than all yet:
- That, when we have found the King (in which your pain
- That way, I'll this), he that first lights on him
- Holla the other.
- Exeunt [severally].
-
-
-
-
-Scene II.
-Another part of the heath.
-
-Storm still. Enter Lear and Fool.
-
- Lear. Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! rage! blow!
- You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout
- Till you have drench'd our steeples, drown'd the cocks!
- You sulph'rous and thought-executing fires,
- Vaunt-couriers to oak-cleaving thunderbolts,
- Singe my white head! And thou, all-shaking thunder,
- Strike flat the thick rotundity o' th' world,
- Crack Nature's moulds, all germains spill at once,
- That makes ingrateful man!
- Fool. O nuncle, court holy water in a dry house is better than this
- rain water out o' door. Good nuncle, in, and ask thy daughters
- blessing! Here's a night pities nether wise men nor fools.
- Lear. Rumble thy bellyful! Spit, fire! spout, rain!
- Nor rain, wind, thunder, fire are my daughters.
- I tax not you, you elements, with unkindness.
- I never gave you kingdom, call'd you children,
- You owe me no subscription. Then let fall
- Your horrible pleasure. Here I stand your slave,
- A poor, infirm, weak, and despis'd old man.
- But yet I call you servile ministers,
- That will with two pernicious daughters join
- Your high-engender'd battles 'gainst a head
- So old and white as this! O! O! 'tis foul!
- Fool. He that has a house to put 's head in has a good head-piece.
- The codpiece that will house
- Before the head has any,
- The head and he shall louse:
- So beggars marry many.
- The man that makes his toe
- What he his heart should make
- Shall of a corn cry woe,
- And turn his sleep to wake.
- For there was never yet fair woman but she made mouths in a
- glass.
-
- Enter Kent.
-
- Lear. No, I will be the pattern of all patience;
- I will say nothing.
- Kent. Who's there?
- Fool. Marry, here's grace and a codpiece; that's a wise man and a
- fool.
- Kent. Alas, sir, are you here? Things that love night
- Love not such nights as these. The wrathful skies
- Gallow the very wanderers of the dark
- And make them keep their caves. Since I was man,
- Such sheets of fire, such bursts of horrid thunder,
- Such groans of roaring wind and rain, I never
- Remember to have heard. Man's nature cannot carry
- Th' affliction nor the fear.
- Lear. Let the great gods,
- That keep this dreadful pudder o'er our heads,
- Find out their enemies now. Tremble, thou wretch,
- That hast within thee undivulged crimes
- Unwhipp'd of justice. Hide thee, thou bloody hand;
- Thou perjur'd, and thou simular man of virtue
- That art incestuous. Caitiff, in pieces shake
- That under covert and convenient seeming
- Hast practis'd on man's life. Close pent-up guilts,
- Rive your concealing continents, and cry
- These dreadful summoners grace. I am a man
- More sinn'd against than sinning.
- Kent. Alack, bareheaded?
- Gracious my lord, hard by here is a hovel;
- Some friendship will it lend you 'gainst the tempest.
- Repose you there, whilst I to this hard house
- (More harder than the stones whereof 'tis rais'd,
- Which even but now, demanding after you,
- Denied me to come in) return, and force
- Their scanted courtesy.
- Lear. My wits begin to turn.
- Come on, my boy. How dost, my boy? Art cold?
- I am cold myself. Where is this straw, my fellow?
- The art of our necessities is strange,
- That can make vile things precious. Come, your hovel.
- Poor fool and knave, I have one part in my heart
- That's sorry yet for thee.
- Fool. [sings]
-
- He that has and a little tiny wit-
- With hey, ho, the wind and the rain-
- Must make content with his fortunes fit,
- For the rain it raineth every day.
-
- Lear. True, my good boy. Come, bring us to this hovel.
- Exeunt [Lear and Kent].
- Fool. This is a brave night to cool a courtesan. I'll speak a
- prophecy ere I go:
- When priests are more in word than matter;
- When brewers mar their malt with water;
- When nobles are their tailors' tutors,
- No heretics burn'd, but wenches' suitors;
- When every case in law is right,
- No squire in debt nor no poor knight;
- When slanders do not live in tongues,
- Nor cutpurses come not to throngs;
- When usurers tell their gold i' th' field,
- And bawds and whores do churches build:
- Then shall the realm of Albion
- Come to great confusion.
- Then comes the time, who lives to see't,
- That going shall be us'd with feet.
- This prophecy Merlin shall make, for I live before his time.
-Exit.
-
-
-
-
-Scene III.
-Gloucester's Castle.
-
-Enter Gloucester and Edmund.
-
- Glou. Alack, alack, Edmund, I like not this unnatural dealing! When
- I desir'd their leave that I might pity him, they took from me
- the use of mine own house, charg'd me on pain of perpetual
- displeasure neither to speak of him, entreat for him, nor any
- way sustain him.
- Edm. Most savage and unnatural!
- Glou. Go to; say you nothing. There is division betwixt the Dukes,
- and a worse matter than that. I have received a letter this
- night- 'tis dangerous to be spoken- I have lock'd the letter in
- my closet. These injuries the King now bears will be revenged
- home; there's part of a power already footed; we must incline to
- the King. I will seek him and privily relieve him. Go you and
- maintain talk with the Duke, that my charity be not of him
- perceived. If he ask for me, I am ill and gone to bed. Though I
- die for't, as no less is threat'ned me, the King my old master
- must be relieved. There is some strange thing toward, Edmund.
- Pray you be careful. Exit.
- Edm. This courtesy, forbid thee, shall the Duke
- Instantly know, and of that letter too.
- This seems a fair deserving, and must draw me
- That which my father loses- no less than all.
- The younger rises when the old doth fall. Exit.
-
-
-
-
-Scene IV.
-The heath. Before a hovel.
-
-Storm still. Enter Lear, Kent, and Fool.
-
- Kent. Here is the place, my lord. Good my lord, enter.
- The tyranny of the open night 's too rough
- For nature to endure.
- Lear. Let me alone.
- Kent. Good my lord, enter here.
- Lear. Wilt break my heart?
- Kent. I had rather break mine own. Good my lord, enter.
- Lear. Thou think'st 'tis much that this contentious storm
- Invades us to the skin. So 'tis to thee;
- But where the greater malady is fix'd,
- The lesser is scarce felt. Thou'dst shun a bear;
- But if thy flight lay toward the raging sea,
- Thou'dst meet the bear i' th' mouth. When the mind's free,
- The body's delicate. The tempest in my mind
- Doth from my senses take all feeling else
- Save what beats there. Filial ingratitude!
- Is it not as this mouth should tear this hand
- For lifting food to't? But I will punish home!
- No, I will weep no more. In such a night
- 'To shut me out! Pour on; I will endure.
- In such a night as this! O Regan, Goneril!
- Your old kind father, whose frank heart gave all!
- O, that way madness lies; let me shun that!
- No more of that.
- Kent. Good my lord, enter here.
- Lear. Prithee go in thyself; seek thine own ease.
- This tempest will not give me leave to ponder
- On things would hurt me more. But I'll go in.
- [To the Fool] In, boy; go first.- You houseless poverty-
- Nay, get thee in. I'll pray, and then I'll sleep.
- Exit [Fool].
- Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'er you are,
- That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm,
- How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides,
- Your loop'd and window'd raggedness, defend you
- From seasons such as these? O, I have ta'en
- Too little care of this! Take physic, pomp;
- Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel,
- That thou mayst shake the superflux to them
- And show the heavens more just.
- Edg. [within] Fathom and half, fathom and half! Poor Tom!
-
- Enter Fool [from the hovel].
-
- Fool. Come not in here, nuncle, here's a spirit. Help me, help me!
- Kent. Give me thy hand. Who's there?
- Fool. A spirit, a spirit! He says his name's poor Tom.
- Kent. What art thou that dost grumble there i' th' straw?
- Come forth.
-
- Enter Edgar [disguised as a madman].
-
- Edg. Away! the foul fiend follows me! Through the sharp hawthorn
- blows the cold wind. Humh! go to thy cold bed, and warm thee.
- Lear. Hast thou given all to thy two daughters, and art thou come
- to this?
- Edg. Who gives anything to poor Tom? whom the foul fiend hath led
- through fire and through flame, through ford and whirlpool, o'er
- bog and quagmire; that hath laid knives under his pillow and
- halters in his pew, set ratsbane by his porridge, made him proud
- of heart, to ride on a bay trotting horse over four-inch'd
- bridges, to course his own shadow for a traitor. Bless thy five
- wits! Tom 's acold. O, do de, do de, do de. Bless thee from
- whirlwinds, star-blasting, and taking! Do poor Tom some charity,
- whom the foul fiend vexes. There could I have him now- and there-
- and there again- and there!
- Storm still.
- Lear. What, have his daughters brought him to this pass?
- Couldst thou save nothing? Didst thou give 'em all?
- Fool. Nay, he reserv'd a blanket, else we had been all sham'd.
- Lear. Now all the plagues that in the pendulous air
- Hang fated o'er men's faults light on thy daughters!
- Kent. He hath no daughters, sir.
- Lear. Death, traitor! nothing could have subdu'd nature
- To such a lowness but his unkind daughters.
- Is it the fashion that discarded fathers
- Should have thus little mercy on their flesh?
- Judicious punishment! 'Twas this flesh begot
- Those pelican daughters.
- Edg. Pillicock sat on Pillicock's Hill. 'Allow, 'allow, loo, loo!
- Fool. This cold night will turn us all to fools and madmen.
- Edg. Take heed o' th' foul fiend; obey thy parents: keep thy word
- justly; swear not; commit not with man's sworn spouse; set not
- thy sweet heart on proud array. Tom 's acold.
- Lear. What hast thou been?
- Edg. A servingman, proud in heart and mind; that curl'd my hair,
- wore gloves in my cap; serv'd the lust of my mistress' heart and
- did the act of darkness with her; swore as many oaths as I spake
- words, and broke them in the sweet face of heaven; one that
- slept in the contriving of lust, and wak'd to do it. Wine lov'd
- I deeply, dice dearly; and in woman out-paramour'd the Turk.
- False of heart, light of ear, bloody of hand; hog in sloth, fox
- in stealth, wolf in greediness, dog in madness, lion in prey.
- Let not the creaking of shoes nor the rustling of silks betray
- thy poor heart to woman. Keep thy foot out of brothel, thy hand
- out of placket, thy pen from lender's book, and defy the foul
- fiend. Still through the hawthorn blows the cold wind; says
- suum, mun, hey, no, nonny. Dolphin my boy, my boy, sessa! let
- him trot by.
- Storm still.
- Lear. Why, thou wert better in thy grave than to answer with thy
- uncover'd body this extremity of the skies. Is man no more than
- this? Consider him well. Thou ow'st the worm no silk, the beast
- no hide, the sheep no wool, the cat no perfume. Ha! Here's three
- on's are sophisticated! Thou art the thing itself;
- unaccommodated man is no more but such a poor, bare, forked
- animal as thou art. Off, off, you lendings! Come, unbutton
- here.
- [Tears at his clothes.]
- Fool. Prithee, nuncle, be contented! 'Tis a naughty night to swim
- in. Now a little fire in a wild field were like an old lecher's
- heart- a small spark, all the rest on's body cold. Look, here
- comes a walking fire.
-
- Enter Gloucester with a torch.
-
- Edg. This is the foul fiend Flibbertigibbet. He begins at curfew,
- and walks till the first cock. He gives the web and the pin,
- squints the eye, and makes the harelip; mildews the white wheat,
- and hurts the poor creature of earth.
-
- Saint Withold footed thrice the 'old;
- He met the nightmare, and her nine fold;
- Bid her alight
- And her troth plight,
- And aroint thee, witch, aroint thee!
-
- Kent. How fares your Grace?
- Lear. What's he?
- Kent. Who's there? What is't you seek?
- Glou. What are you there? Your names?
- Edg. Poor Tom, that eats the swimming frog, the toad, the todpole,
- the wall-newt and the water; that in the fury of his heart, when
- the foul fiend rages, eats cow-dung for sallets, swallows the
- old rat and the ditch-dog, drinks the green mantle of the
- standing pool; who is whipp'd from tithing to tithing, and
- stock-punish'd and imprison'd; who hath had three suits to his
- back, six shirts to his body, horse to ride, and weapons to
- wear;
-
- But mice and rats, and such small deer,
- Have been Tom's food for seven long year.
-
- Beware my follower. Peace, Smulkin! peace, thou fiend!
- Glou. What, hath your Grace no better company?
- Edg. The prince of darkness is a gentleman!
- Modo he's call'd, and Mahu.
- Glou. Our flesh and blood is grown so vile, my lord,
- That it doth hate what gets it.
- Edg. Poor Tom 's acold.
- Glou. Go in with me. My duty cannot suffer
- T' obey in all your daughters' hard commands.
- Though their injunction be to bar my doors
- And let this tyrannous night take hold upon you,
- Yet have I ventur'd to come seek you out
- And bring you where both fire and food is ready.
- Lear. First let me talk with this philosopher.
- What is the cause of thunder?
- Kent. Good my lord, take his offer; go into th' house.
- Lear. I'll talk a word with this same learned Theban.
- What is your study?
- Edg. How to prevent the fiend and to kill vermin.
- Lear. Let me ask you one word in private.
- Kent. Importune him once more to go, my lord.
- His wits begin t' unsettle.
- Glou. Canst thou blame him?
- Storm still.
- His daughters seek his death. Ah, that good Kent!
- He said it would be thus- poor banish'd man!
- Thou say'st the King grows mad: I'll tell thee, friend,
- I am almost mad myself. I had a son,
- Now outlaw'd from my blood. He sought my life
- But lately, very late. I lov'd him, friend-
- No father his son dearer. True to tell thee,
- The grief hath craz'd my wits. What a night 's this!
- I do beseech your Grace-
- Lear. O, cry you mercy, sir.
- Noble philosopher, your company.
- Edg. Tom's acold.
- Glou. In, fellow, there, into th' hovel; keep thee warm.
- Lear. Come, let's in all.
- Kent. This way, my lord.
- Lear. With him!
- I will keep still with my philosopher.
- Kent. Good my lord, soothe him; let him take the fellow.
- Glou. Take him you on.
- Kent. Sirrah, come on; go along with us.
- Lear. Come, good Athenian.
- Glou. No words, no words! hush.
- Edg. Child Rowland to the dark tower came;
- His word was still
-
- Fie, foh, and fum!
- I smell the blood of a British man.
- Exeunt.
-
-Scene V.
-Gloucester's Castle.
-
-Enter Cornwall and Edmund.
-
- Corn. I will have my revenge ere I depart his house.
- Edm. How, my lord, I may be censured, that nature thus gives way to
- loyalty, something fears me to think of.
- Corn. I now perceive it was not altogether your brother's evil
- disposition made him seek his death; but a provoking merit, set
- awork by a reproveable badness in himself.
- Edm. How malicious is my fortune that I must repent to be just!
- This is the letter he spoke of, which approves him an
- intelligent party to the advantages of France. O heavens! that
- this treason were not- or not I the detector!
- Corn. Go with me to the Duchess.
- Edm. If the matter of this paper be certain, you have mighty
- business in hand.
- Corn. True or false, it hath made thee Earl of Gloucester.
- Seek out where thy father is, that he may be ready for our
- apprehension.
- Edm. [aside] If I find him comforting the King, it will stuff his
- suspicion more fully.- I will persever in my course of loyalty,
- though the conflict be sore between that and my blood.
- Corn. I will lay trust upon thee, and thou shalt find a dearer
- father in my love.
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-Scene VI.
-A farmhouse near Gloucester's Castle.
-
-Enter Gloucester, Lear, Kent, Fool, and Edgar.
-
- Glou. Here is better than the open air; take it thankfully. I will
- piece out the comfort with what addition I can. I will not be
- long from you.
- Kent. All the power of his wits have given way to his impatience.
- The gods reward your kindness!
- Exit [Gloucester].
- Edg. Frateretto calls me, and tells me Nero is an angler in the
- lake of darkness. Pray, innocent, and beware the foul fiend.
- Fool. Prithee, nuncle, tell me whether a madman be a gentleman or a
- yeoman.
- Lear. A king, a king!
- Fool. No, he's a yeoman that has a gentleman to his son; for he's a
- mad yeoman that sees his son a gentleman before him.
- Lear. To have a thousand with red burning spits
- Come hizzing in upon 'em-
- Edg. The foul fiend bites my back.
- Fool. He's mad that trusts in the tameness of a wolf, a horse's
- health, a boy's love, or a whore's oath.
- Lear. It shall be done; I will arraign them straight.
- [To Edgar] Come, sit thou here, most learned justicer.
- [To the Fool] Thou, sapient sir, sit here. Now, you she-foxes!
- Edg. Look, where he stands and glares! Want'st thou eyes at trial,
- madam?
-
- Come o'er the bourn, Bessy, to me.
-
- Fool. Her boat hath a leak,
- And she must not speak
- Why she dares not come over to thee.
-
- Edg. The foul fiend haunts poor Tom in the voice of a nightingale.
- Hoppedance cries in Tom's belly for two white herring. Croak
- not, black angel; I have no food for thee.
- Kent. How do you, sir? Stand you not so amaz'd.
- Will you lie down and rest upon the cushions?
- Lear. I'll see their trial first. Bring in their evidence.
- [To Edgar] Thou, robed man of justice, take thy place.
- [To the Fool] And thou, his yokefellow of equity,
- Bench by his side. [To Kent] You are o' th' commission,
- Sit you too.
- Edg. Let us deal justly.
-
- Sleepest or wakest thou, jolly shepherd?
- Thy sheep be in the corn;
- And for one blast of thy minikin mouth
- Thy sheep shall take no harm.
-
- Purr! the cat is gray.
- Lear. Arraign her first. 'Tis Goneril. I here take my oath before
- this honourable assembly, she kicked the poor King her father.
- Fool. Come hither, mistress. Is your name Goneril?
- Lear. She cannot deny it.
- Fool. Cry you mercy, I took you for a joint-stool.
- Lear. And here's another, whose warp'd looks proclaim
- What store her heart is made on. Stop her there!
- Arms, arms! sword! fire! Corruption in the place!
- False justicer, why hast thou let her scape?
- Edg. Bless thy five wits!
- Kent. O pity! Sir, where is the patience now
- That you so oft have boasted to retain?
- Edg. [aside] My tears begin to take his part so much
- They'll mar my counterfeiting.
- Lear. The little dogs and all,
- Tray, Blanch, and Sweetheart, see, they bark at me.
- Edg. Tom will throw his head at them. Avaunt, you curs!
- Be thy mouth or black or white,
- Tooth that poisons if it bite;
- Mastiff, greyhound, mongrel grim,
- Hound or spaniel, brach or lym,
- Bobtail tyke or trundle-tall-
- Tom will make them weep and wail;
- For, with throwing thus my head,
- Dogs leap the hatch, and all are fled.
- Do de, de, de. Sessa! Come, march to wakes and fairs and market
- towns. Poor Tom, thy horn is dry.
- Lear. Then let them anatomize Regan. See what breeds about her
- heart. Is there any cause in nature that makes these hard
- hearts? [To Edgar] You, sir- I entertain you for one of my
- hundred; only I do not like the fashion of your garments. You'll
- say they are Persian attire; but let them be chang'd.
- Kent. Now, good my lord, lie here and rest awhile.
- Lear. Make no noise, make no noise; draw the curtains.
- So, so, so. We'll go to supper i' th' morning. So, so, so.
- Fool. And I'll go to bed at noon.
-
- Enter Gloucester.
-
- Glou. Come hither, friend. Where is the King my master?
- Kent. Here, sir; but trouble him not; his wits are gone.
- Glou. Good friend, I prithee take him in thy arms.
- I have o'erheard a plot of death upon him.
- There is a litter ready; lay him in't
- And drive towards Dover, friend, where thou shalt meet
- Both welcome and protection. Take up thy master.
- If thou shouldst dally half an hour, his life,
- With thine, and all that offer to defend him,
- Stand in assured loss. Take up, take up!
- And follow me, that will to some provision
- Give thee quick conduct.
- Kent. Oppressed nature sleeps.
- This rest might yet have balm'd thy broken senses,
- Which, if convenience will not allow,
- Stand in hard cure. [To the Fool] Come, help to bear thy master.
- Thou must not stay behind.
- Glou. Come, come, away!
- Exeunt [all but Edgar].
- Edg. When we our betters see bearing our woes,
- We scarcely think our miseries our foes.
- Who alone suffers suffers most i' th' mind,
- Leaving free things and happy shows behind;
- But then the mind much sufferance doth o'erskip
- When grief hath mates, and bearing fellowship.
- How light and portable my pain seems now,
- When that which makes me bend makes the King bow,
- He childed as I fathered! Tom, away!
- Mark the high noises, and thyself bewray
- When false opinion, whose wrong thought defiles thee,
- In thy just proof repeals and reconciles thee.
- What will hap more to-night, safe scape the King!
- Lurk, lurk. [Exit.]
-
-
-
-
-Scene VII.
-Gloucester's Castle.
-
-Enter Cornwall, Regan, Goneril, [Edmund the] Bastard, and Servants.
-
- Corn. [to Goneril] Post speedily to my lord your husband, show him
- this letter. The army of France is landed.- Seek out the traitor
- Gloucester.
- [Exeunt some of the Servants.]
- Reg. Hang him instantly.
- Gon. Pluck out his eyes.
- Corn. Leave him to my displeasure. Edmund, keep you our sister
- company. The revenges we are bound to take upon your traitorous
- father are not fit for your beholding. Advise the Duke where you
- are going, to a most festinate preparation. We are bound to the
- like. Our posts shall be swift and intelligent betwixt us.
- Farewell, dear sister; farewell, my Lord of Gloucester.
-
- Enter [Oswald the] Steward.
-
- How now? Where's the King?
- Osw. My Lord of Gloucester hath convey'd him hence.
- Some five or six and thirty of his knights,
- Hot questrists after him, met him at gate;
- Who, with some other of the lord's dependants,
- Are gone with him towards Dover, where they boast
- To have well-armed friends.
- Corn. Get horses for your mistress.
- Gon. Farewell, sweet lord, and sister.
- Corn. Edmund, farewell.
- Exeunt Goneril, [Edmund, and Oswald].
- Go seek the traitor Gloucester,
- Pinion him like a thief, bring him before us.
- [Exeunt other Servants.]
- Though well we may not pass upon his life
- Without the form of justice, yet our power
- Shall do a court'sy to our wrath, which men
- May blame, but not control.
-
- Enter Gloucester, brought in by two or three.
-
- Who's there? the traitor?
- Reg. Ingrateful fox! 'tis he.
- Corn. Bind fast his corky arms.
- Glou. What mean, your Graces? Good my friends, consider
- You are my guests. Do me no foul play, friends.
- Corn. Bind him, I say.
- [Servants bind him.]
- Reg. Hard, hard. O filthy traitor!
- Glou. Unmerciful lady as you are, I am none.
- Corn. To this chair bind him. Villain, thou shalt find-
- [Regan plucks his beard.]
- Glou. By the kind gods, 'tis most ignobly done
- To pluck me by the beard.
- Reg. So white, and such a traitor!
- Glou. Naughty lady,
- These hairs which thou dost ravish from my chin
- Will quicken, and accuse thee. I am your host.
- With robber's hands my hospitable favours
- You should not ruffle thus. What will you do?
- Corn. Come, sir, what letters had you late from France?
- Reg. Be simple-answer'd, for we know the truth.
- Corn. And what confederacy have you with the traitors
- Late footed in the kingdom?
- Reg. To whose hands have you sent the lunatic King?
- Speak.
- Glou. I have a letter guessingly set down,
- Which came from one that's of a neutral heart,
- And not from one oppos'd.
- Corn. Cunning.
- Reg. And false.
- Corn. Where hast thou sent the King?
- Glou. To Dover.
- Reg. Wherefore to Dover? Wast thou not charg'd at peril-
- Corn. Wherefore to Dover? Let him first answer that.
- Glou. I am tied to th' stake, and I must stand the course.
- Reg. Wherefore to Dover, sir?
- Glou. Because I would not see thy cruel nails
- Pluck out his poor old eyes; nor thy fierce sister
- In his anointed flesh stick boarish fangs.
- The sea, with such a storm as his bare head
- In hell-black night endur'd, would have buoy'd up
- And quench'd the steeled fires.
- Yet, poor old heart, he holp the heavens to rain.
- If wolves had at thy gate howl'd that stern time,
- Thou shouldst have said, 'Good porter, turn the key.'
- All cruels else subscrib'd. But I shall see
- The winged vengeance overtake such children.
- Corn. See't shalt thou never. Fellows, hold the chair.
- Upon these eyes of thine I'll set my foot.
- Glou. He that will think to live till he be old,
- Give me some help!- O cruel! O ye gods!
- Reg. One side will mock another. Th' other too!
- Corn. If you see vengeance-
- 1. Serv. Hold your hand, my lord!
- I have serv'd you ever since I was a child;
- But better service have I never done you
- Than now to bid you hold.
- Reg. How now, you dog?
- 1. Serv. If you did wear a beard upon your chin,
- I'ld shake it on this quarrel.
- Reg. What do you mean?
- Corn. My villain! Draw and fight.
- 1. Serv. Nay, then, come on, and take the chance of anger.
- Reg. Give me thy sword. A peasant stand up thus?
- She takes a sword and runs at him behind.
- 1. Serv. O, I am slain! My lord, you have one eye left
- To see some mischief on him. O! He dies.
- Corn. Lest it see more, prevent it. Out, vile jelly!
- Where is thy lustre now?
- Glou. All dark and comfortless! Where's my son Edmund?
- Edmund, enkindle all the sparks of nature
- To quit this horrid act.
- Reg. Out, treacherous villain!
- Thou call'st on him that hates thee. It was he
- That made the overture of thy treasons to us;
- Who is too good to pity thee.
- Glou. O my follies! Then Edgar was abus'd.
- Kind gods, forgive me that, and prosper him!
- Reg. Go thrust him out at gates, and let him smell
- His way to Dover.
- Exit [one] with Gloucester.
- How is't, my lord? How look you?
- Corn. I have receiv'd a hurt. Follow me, lady.
- Turn out that eyeless villain. Throw this slave
- Upon the dunghill. Regan, I bleed apace.
- Untimely comes this hurt. Give me your arm.
- Exit [Cornwall, led by Regan].
- 2. Serv. I'll never care what wickedness I do,
- If this man come to good.
- 3. Serv. If she live long,
- And in the end meet the old course of death,
- Women will all turn monsters.
- 2. Serv. Let's follow the old Earl, and get the bedlam
- To lead him where he would. His roguish madness
- Allows itself to anything.
- 3. Serv. Go thou. I'll fetch some flax and whites of eggs
- To apply to his bleeding face. Now heaven help him!
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT IV. Scene I.
-The heath.
-
-Enter Edgar.
-
- Edg. Yet better thus, and known to be contemn'd,
- Than still contemn'd and flatter'd. To be worst,
- The lowest and most dejected thing of fortune,
- Stands still in esperance, lives not in fear.
- The lamentable change is from the best;
- The worst returns to laughter. Welcome then,
- Thou unsubstantial air that I embrace!
- The wretch that thou hast blown unto the worst
- Owes nothing to thy blasts.
-
- Enter Gloucester, led by an Old Man.
-
- But who comes here?
- My father, poorly led? World, world, O world!
- But that thy strange mutations make us hate thee,
- Life would not yield to age.
- Old Man. O my good lord,
- I have been your tenant, and your father's tenant,
- These fourscore years.
- Glou. Away, get thee away! Good friend, be gone.
- Thy comforts can do me no good at all;
- Thee they may hurt.
- Old Man. You cannot see your way.
- Glou. I have no way, and therefore want no eyes;
- I stumbled when I saw. Full oft 'tis seen
- Our means secure us, and our mere defects
- Prove our commodities. Ah dear son Edgar,
- The food of thy abused father's wrath!
- Might I but live to see thee in my touch,
- I'ld say I had eyes again!
- Old Man. How now? Who's there?
- Edg. [aside] O gods! Who is't can say 'I am at the worst'?
- I am worse than e'er I was.
- Old Man. 'Tis poor mad Tom.
- Edg. [aside] And worse I may be yet. The worst is not
- So long as we can say 'This is the worst.'
- Old Man. Fellow, where goest?
- Glou. Is it a beggarman?
- Old Man. Madman and beggar too.
- Glou. He has some reason, else he could not beg.
- I' th' last night's storm I such a fellow saw,
- Which made me think a man a worm. My son
- Came then into my mind, and yet my mind
- Was then scarce friends with him. I have heard more since.
- As flies to wanton boys are we to th' gods.
- They kill us for their sport.
- Edg. [aside] How should this be?
- Bad is the trade that must play fool to sorrow,
- Ang'ring itself and others.- Bless thee, master!
- Glou. Is that the naked fellow?
- Old Man. Ay, my lord.
- Glou. Then prithee get thee gone. If for my sake
- Thou wilt o'ertake us hence a mile or twain
- I' th' way toward Dover, do it for ancient love;
- And bring some covering for this naked soul,
- Who I'll entreat to lead me.
- Old Man. Alack, sir, he is mad!
- Glou. 'Tis the time's plague when madmen lead the blind.
- Do as I bid thee, or rather do thy pleasure.
- Above the rest, be gone.
- Old Man. I'll bring him the best 'parel that I have,
- Come on't what will. Exit.
- Glou. Sirrah naked fellow-
- Edg. Poor Tom's acold. [Aside] I cannot daub it further.
- Glou. Come hither, fellow.
- Edg. [aside] And yet I must.- Bless thy sweet eyes, they bleed.
- Glou. Know'st thou the way to Dover?
- Edg. Both stile and gate, horseway and footpath. Poor Tom hath been
- scar'd out of his good wits. Bless thee, good man's son, from
- the foul fiend! Five fiends have been in poor Tom at once: of
- lust, as Obidicut; Hobbididence, prince of dumbness; Mahu, of
- stealing; Modo, of murder; Flibbertigibbet, of mopping and
- mowing, who since possesses chambermaids and waiting women. So,
- bless thee, master!
- Glou. Here, take this Purse, thou whom the heavens' plagues
- Have humbled to all strokes. That I am wretched
- Makes thee the happier. Heavens, deal so still!
- Let the superfluous and lust-dieted man,
- That slaves your ordinance, that will not see
- Because he does not feel, feel your pow'r quickly;
- So distribution should undo excess,
- And each man have enough. Dost thou know Dover?
- Edg. Ay, master.
- Glou. There is a cliff, whose high and bending head
- Looks fearfully in the confined deep.
- Bring me but to the very brim of it,
- And I'll repair the misery thou dost bear
- With something rich about me. From that place
- I shall no leading need.
- Edg. Give me thy arm.
- Poor Tom shall lead thee.
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-Scene II.
-Before the Duke of Albany's Palace.
-
-Enter Goneril and [Edmund the] Bastard.
-
- Gon. Welcome, my lord. I marvel our mild husband
- Not met us on the way.
-
- Enter [Oswald the] Steward.
-
- Now, where's your master?
- Osw. Madam, within, but never man so chang'd.
- I told him of the army that was landed:
- He smil'd at it. I told him you were coming:
- His answer was, 'The worse.' Of Gloucester's treachery
- And of the loyal service of his son
- When I inform'd him, then he call'd me sot
- And told me I had turn'd the wrong side out.
- What most he should dislike seems pleasant to him;
- What like, offensive.
- Gon. [to Edmund] Then shall you go no further.
- It is the cowish terror of his spirit,
- That dares not undertake. He'll not feel wrongs
- Which tie him to an answer. Our wishes on the way
- May prove effects. Back, Edmund, to my brother.
- Hasten his musters and conduct his pow'rs.
- I must change arms at home and give the distaff
- Into my husband's hands. This trusty servant
- Shall pass between us. Ere long you are like to hear
- (If you dare venture in your own behalf)
- A mistress's command. Wear this. [Gives a favour.]
- Spare speech.
- Decline your head. This kiss, if it durst speak,
- Would stretch thy spirits up into the air.
- Conceive, and fare thee well.
- Edm. Yours in the ranks of death! Exit.
- Gon. My most dear Gloucester!
- O, the difference of man and man!
- To thee a woman's services are due;
- My fool usurps my body.
- Osw. Madam, here comes my lord. Exit.
-
- Enter Albany.
-
- Gon. I have been worth the whistle.
- Alb. O Goneril,
- You are not worth the dust which the rude wind
- Blows in your face! I fear your disposition.
- That nature which contemns it origin
- Cannot be bordered certain in itself.
- She that herself will sliver and disbranch
- From her material sap, perforce must wither
- And come to deadly use.
- Gon. No more! The text is foolish.
- Alb. Wisdom and goodness to the vile seem vile;
- Filths savour but themselves. What have you done?
- Tigers, not daughters, what have you perform'd?
- A father, and a gracious aged man,
- Whose reverence even the head-lugg'd bear would lick,
- Most barbarous, most degenerate, have you madded.
- Could my good brother suffer you to do it?
- A man, a prince, by him so benefited!
- If that the heavens do not their visible spirits
- Send quickly down to tame these vile offences,
- It will come,
- Humanity must perforce prey on itself,
- Like monsters of the deep.
- Gon. Milk-liver'd man!
- That bear'st a cheek for blows, a head for wrongs;
- Who hast not in thy brows an eye discerning
- Thine honour from thy suffering; that not know'st
- Fools do those villains pity who are punish'd
- Ere they have done their mischief. Where's thy drum?
- France spreads his banners in our noiseless land,
- With plumed helm thy state begins to threat,
- Whiles thou, a moral fool, sit'st still, and criest
- 'Alack, why does he so?'
- Alb. See thyself, devil!
- Proper deformity seems not in the fiend
- So horrid as in woman.
- Gon. O vain fool!
- Alb. Thou changed and self-cover'd thing, for shame!
- Bemonster not thy feature! Were't my fitness
- To let these hands obey my blood,
- They are apt enough to dislocate and tear
- Thy flesh and bones. Howe'er thou art a fiend,
- A woman's shape doth shield thee.
- Gon. Marry, your manhood mew!
-
- Enter a Gentleman.
-
- Alb. What news?
- Gent. O, my good lord, the Duke of Cornwall 's dead,
- Slain by his servant, going to put out
- The other eye of Gloucester.
- Alb. Gloucester's eyes?
- Gent. A servant that he bred, thrill'd with remorse,
- Oppos'd against the act, bending his sword
- To his great master; who, thereat enrag'd,
- Flew on him, and amongst them fell'd him dead;
- But not without that harmful stroke which since
- Hath pluck'd him after.
- Alb. This shows you are above,
- You justicers, that these our nether crimes
- So speedily can venge! But O poor Gloucester!
- Lose he his other eye?
- Gent. Both, both, my lord.
- This letter, madam, craves a speedy answer.
- 'Tis from your sister.
- Gon. [aside] One way I like this well;
- But being widow, and my Gloucester with her,
- May all the building in my fancy pluck
- Upon my hateful life. Another way
- The news is not so tart.- I'll read, and answer.
-Exit.
- Alb. Where was his son when they did take his eyes?
- Gent. Come with my lady hither.
- Alb. He is not here.
- Gent. No, my good lord; I met him back again.
- Alb. Knows he the wickedness?
- Gent. Ay, my good lord. 'Twas he inform'd against him,
- And quit the house on purpose, that their punishment
- Might have the freer course.
- Alb. Gloucester, I live
- To thank thee for the love thou show'dst the King,
- And to revenge thine eyes. Come hither, friend.
- Tell me what more thou know'st.
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-Scene III.
-The French camp near Dover.
-
-Enter Kent and a Gentleman.
-
- Kent. Why the King of France is so suddenly gone back know you the
- reason?
- Gent. Something he left imperfect in the state, which since his
- coming forth is thought of, which imports to the kingdom so much
- fear and danger that his personal return was most required and
- necessary.
- Kent. Who hath he left behind him general?
- Gent. The Marshal of France, Monsieur La Far.
- Kent. Did your letters pierce the Queen to any demonstration of
- grief?
- Gent. Ay, sir. She took them, read them in my presence,
- And now and then an ample tear trill'd down
- Her delicate cheek. It seem'd she was a queen
- Over her passion, who, most rebel-like,
- Sought to be king o'er her.
- Kent. O, then it mov'd her?
- Gent. Not to a rage. Patience and sorrow strove
- Who should express her goodliest. You have seen
- Sunshine and rain at once: her smiles and tears
- Were like, a better way. Those happy smilets
- That play'd on her ripe lip seem'd not to know
- What guests were in her eyes, which parted thence
- As pearls from diamonds dropp'd. In brief,
- Sorrow would be a rarity most belov'd,
- If all could so become it.
- Kent. Made she no verbal question?
- Gent. Faith, once or twice she heav'd the name of father
- Pantingly forth, as if it press'd her heart;
- Cried 'Sisters, sisters! Shame of ladies! Sisters!
- Kent! father! sisters! What, i' th' storm? i' th' night?
- Let pity not be believ'd!' There she shook
- The holy water from her heavenly eyes,
- And clamour moisten'd. Then away she started
- To deal with grief alone.
- Kent. It is the stars,
- The stars above us, govern our conditions;
- Else one self mate and mate could not beget
- Such different issues. You spoke not with her since?
- Gent. No.
- Kent. Was this before the King return'd?
- Gent. No, since.
- Kent. Well, sir, the poor distressed Lear's i' th' town;
- Who sometime, in his better tune, remembers
- What we are come about, and by no means
- Will yield to see his daughter.
- Gent. Why, good sir?
- Kent. A sovereign shame so elbows him; his own unkindness,
- That stripp'd her from his benediction, turn'd her
- To foreign casualties, gave her dear rights
- To his dog-hearted daughters- these things sting
- His mind so venomously that burning shame
- Detains him from Cordelia.
- Gent. Alack, poor gentleman!
- Kent. Of Albany's and Cornwall's powers you heard not?
- Gent. 'Tis so; they are afoot.
- Kent. Well, sir, I'll bring you to our master Lear
- And leave you to attend him. Some dear cause
- Will in concealment wrap me up awhile.
- When I am known aright, you shall not grieve
- Lending me this acquaintance. I pray you go
- Along with me. Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-Scene IV.
-The French camp.
-
-Enter, with Drum and Colours, Cordelia, Doctor, and Soldiers.
-
- Cor. Alack, 'tis he! Why, he was met even now
- As mad as the vex'd sea, singing aloud,
- Crown'd with rank fumiter and furrow weeds,
- With hardocks, hemlock, nettles, cuckoo flow'rs,
- Darnel, and all the idle weeds that grow
- In our sustaining corn. A century send forth.
- Search every acre in the high-grown field
- And bring him to our eye. [Exit an Officer.] What can man's
- wisdom
- In the restoring his bereaved sense?
- He that helps him take all my outward worth.
- Doct. There is means, madam.
- Our foster nurse of nature is repose,
- The which he lacks. That to provoke in him
- Are many simples operative, whose power
- Will close the eye of anguish.
- Cor. All blest secrets,
- All you unpublish'd virtues of the earth,
- Spring with my tears! be aidant and remediate
- In the good man's distress! Seek, seek for him!
- Lest his ungovern'd rage dissolve the life
- That wants the means to lead it.
-
- Enter Messenger.
-
- Mess. News, madam.
- The British pow'rs are marching hitherward.
- Cor. 'Tis known before. Our preparation stands
- In expectation of them. O dear father,
- It is thy business that I go about.
- Therefore great France
- My mourning and important tears hath pitied.
- No blown ambition doth our arms incite,
- But love, dear love, and our ag'd father's right.
- Soon may I hear and see him!
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-Scene V.
-Gloucester's Castle.
-
-Enter Regan and [Oswald the] Steward.
-
- Reg. But are my brother's pow'rs set forth?
- Osw. Ay, madam.
- Reg. Himself in person there?
- Osw. Madam, with much ado.
- Your sister is the better soldier.
- Reg. Lord Edmund spake not with your lord at home?
- Osw. No, madam.
- Reg. What might import my sister's letter to him?
- Osw. I know not, lady.
- Reg. Faith, he is posted hence on serious matter.
- It was great ignorance, Gloucester's eyes being out,
- To let him live. Where he arrives he moves
- All hearts against us. Edmund, I think, is gone,
- In pity of his misery, to dispatch
- His nighted life; moreover, to descry
- The strength o' th' enemy.
- Osw. I must needs after him, madam, with my letter.
- Reg. Our troops set forth to-morrow. Stay with us.
- The ways are dangerous.
- Osw. I may not, madam.
- My lady charg'd my duty in this business.
- Reg. Why should she write to Edmund? Might not you
- Transport her purposes by word? Belike,
- Something- I know not what- I'll love thee much-
- Let me unseal the letter.
- Osw. Madam, I had rather-
- Reg. I know your lady does not love her husband;
- I am sure of that; and at her late being here
- She gave strange eliads and most speaking looks
- To noble Edmund. I know you are of her bosom.
- Osw. I, madam?
- Reg. I speak in understanding. Y'are! I know't.
- Therefore I do advise you take this note.
- My lord is dead; Edmund and I have talk'd,
- And more convenient is he for my hand
- Than for your lady's. You may gather more.
- If you do find him, pray you give him this;
- And when your mistress hears thus much from you,
- I pray desire her call her wisdom to her.
- So farewell.
- If you do chance to hear of that blind traitor,
- Preferment falls on him that cuts him off.
- Osw. Would I could meet him, madam! I should show
- What party I do follow.
- Reg. Fare thee well. Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-Scene VI.
-The country near Dover.
-
-Enter Gloucester, and Edgar [like a Peasant].
-
- Glou. When shall I come to th' top of that same hill?
- Edg. You do climb up it now. Look how we labour.
- Glou. Methinks the ground is even.
- Edg. Horrible steep.
- Hark, do you hear the sea?
- Glou. No, truly.
- Edg. Why, then, your other senses grow imperfect
- By your eyes' anguish.
- Glou. So may it be indeed.
- Methinks thy voice is alter'd, and thou speak'st
- In better phrase and matter than thou didst.
- Edg. Y'are much deceiv'd. In nothing am I chang'd
- But in my garments.
- Glou. Methinks y'are better spoken.
- Edg. Come on, sir; here's the place. Stand still. How fearful
- And dizzy 'tis to cast one's eyes so low!
- The crows and choughs that wing the midway air
- Show scarce so gross as beetles. Halfway down
- Hangs one that gathers sampire- dreadful trade!
- Methinks he seems no bigger than his head.
- The fishermen that walk upon the beach
- Appear like mice; and yond tall anchoring bark,
- Diminish'd to her cock; her cock, a buoy
- Almost too small for sight. The murmuring surge
- That on th' unnumb'red idle pebble chafes
- Cannot be heard so high. I'll look no more,
- Lest my brain turn, and the deficient sight
- Topple down headlong.
- Glou. Set me where you stand.
- Edg. Give me your hand. You are now within a foot
- Of th' extreme verge. For all beneath the moon
- Would I not leap upright.
- Glou. Let go my hand.
- Here, friend, is another purse; in it a jewel
- Well worth a poor man's taking. Fairies and gods
- Prosper it with thee! Go thou further off;
- Bid me farewell, and let me hear thee going.
- Edg. Now fare ye well, good sir.
- Glou. With all my heart.
- Edg. [aside]. Why I do trifle thus with his despair
- Is done to cure it.
- Glou. O you mighty gods! He kneels.
- This world I do renounce, and, in your sights,
- Shake patiently my great affliction off.
- If I could bear it longer and not fall
- To quarrel with your great opposeless wills,
- My snuff and loathed part of nature should
- Burn itself out. If Edgar live, O, bless him!
- Now, fellow, fare thee well.
- He falls [forward and swoons].
- Edg. Gone, sir, farewell.-
- And yet I know not how conceit may rob
- The treasury of life when life itself
- Yields to the theft. Had he been where he thought,
- By this had thought been past.- Alive or dead?
- Ho you, sir! friend! Hear you, sir? Speak!-
- Thus might he pass indeed. Yet he revives.
- What are you, sir?
- Glou. Away, and let me die.
- Edg. Hadst thou been aught but gossamer, feathers, air,
- So many fadom down precipitating,
- Thou'dst shiver'd like an egg; but thou dost breathe;
- Hast heavy substance; bleed'st not; speak'st; art sound.
- Ten masts at each make not the altitude
- Which thou hast perpendicularly fell.
- Thy life is a miracle. Speak yet again.
- Glou. But have I fall'n, or no?
- Edg. From the dread summit of this chalky bourn.
- Look up a-height. The shrill-gorg'd lark so far
- Cannot be seen or heard. Do but look up.
- Glou. Alack, I have no eyes!
- Is wretchedness depriv'd that benefit
- To end itself by death? 'Twas yet some comfort
- When misery could beguile the tyrant's rage
- And frustrate his proud will.
- Edg. Give me your arm.
- Up- so. How is't? Feel you your legs? You stand.
- Glou. Too well, too well.
- Edg. This is above all strangeness.
- Upon the crown o' th' cliff what thing was that
- Which parted from you?
- Glou. A poor unfortunate beggar.
- Edg. As I stood here below, methought his eyes
- Were two full moons; he had a thousand noses,
- Horns whelk'd and wav'd like the enridged sea.
- It was some fiend. Therefore, thou happy father,
- Think that the clearest gods, who make them honours
- Of men's impossibility, have preserv'd thee.
- Glou. I do remember now. Henceforth I'll bear
- Affliction till it do cry out itself
- 'Enough, enough,' and die. That thing you speak of,
- I took it for a man. Often 'twould say
- 'The fiend, the fiend'- he led me to that place.
- Edg. Bear free and patient thoughts.
-
- Enter Lear, mad, [fantastically dressed with weeds].
-
- But who comes here?
- The safer sense will ne'er accommodate
- His master thus.
- Lear. No, they cannot touch me for coming;
- I am the King himself.
- Edg. O thou side-piercing sight!
- Lear. Nature 's above art in that respect. There's your press
- money. That fellow handles his bow like a crow-keeper. Draw me
- a clothier's yard. Look, look, a mouse! Peace, peace; this piece
- of toasted cheese will do't. There's my gauntlet; I'll prove it
- on a giant. Bring up the brown bills. O, well flown, bird! i'
- th' clout, i' th' clout! Hewgh! Give the word.
- Edg. Sweet marjoram.
- Lear. Pass.
- Glou. I know that voice.
- Lear. Ha! Goneril with a white beard? They flatter'd me like a dog,
- and told me I had white hairs in my beard ere the black ones
- were there. To say 'ay' and 'no' to everything I said! 'Ay' and
- 'no' too was no good divinity. When the rain came to wet me
- once, and the wind to make me chatter; when the thunder would
- not peace at my bidding; there I found 'em, there I smelt 'em
- out. Go to, they are not men o' their words! They told me I was
- everything. 'Tis a lie- I am not ague-proof.
- Glou. The trick of that voice I do well remember.
- Is't not the King?
- Lear. Ay, every inch a king!
- When I do stare, see how the subject quakes.
- I pardon that man's life. What was thy cause?
- Adultery?
- Thou shalt not die. Die for adultery? No.
- The wren goes to't, and the small gilded fly
- Does lecher in my sight.
- Let copulation thrive; for Gloucester's bastard son
- Was kinder to his father than my daughters
- Got 'tween the lawful sheets.
- To't, luxury, pell-mell! for I lack soldiers.
- Behold yond simp'ring dame,
- Whose face between her forks presageth snow,
- That minces virtue, and does shake the head
- To hear of pleasure's name.
- The fitchew nor the soiled horse goes to't
- With a more riotous appetite.
- Down from the waist they are Centaurs,
- Though women all above.
- But to the girdle do the gods inherit,
- Beneath is all the fiend's.
- There's hell, there's darkness, there's the sulphurous pit;
- burning, scalding, stench, consumption. Fie, fie, fie! pah, pah!
- Give me an ounce of civet, good apothecary, to sweeten my
- imagination. There's money for thee.
- Glou. O, let me kiss that hand!
- Lear. Let me wipe it first; it smells of mortality.
- Glou. O ruin'd piece of nature! This great world
- Shall so wear out to naught. Dost thou know me?
- Lear. I remember thine eyes well enough. Dost thou squiny at me?
- No, do thy worst, blind Cupid! I'll not love. Read thou this
- challenge; mark but the penning of it.
- Glou. Were all the letters suns, I could not see one.
- Edg. [aside] I would not take this from report. It is,
- And my heart breaks at it.
- Lear. Read.
- Glou. What, with the case of eyes?
- Lear. O, ho, are you there with me? No eyes in your head, nor no
- money in your purse? Your eyes are in a heavy case, your purse
- in a light. Yet you see how this world goes.
- Glou. I see it feelingly.
- Lear. What, art mad? A man may see how the world goes with no eyes.
- Look with thine ears. See how yond justice rails upon yond
- simple thief. Hark in thine ear. Change places and, handy-dandy,
- which is the justice, which is the thief? Thou hast seen a
- farmer's dog bark at a beggar?
- Glou. Ay, sir.
- Lear. And the creature run from the cur? There thou mightst behold
- the great image of authority: a dog's obeyed in office.
- Thou rascal beadle, hold thy bloody hand!
- Why dost thou lash that whore? Strip thine own back.
- Thou hotly lusts to use her in that kind
- For which thou whip'st her. The usurer hangs the cozener.
- Through tatter'd clothes small vices do appear;
- Robes and furr'd gowns hide all. Plate sin with gold,
- And the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks;
- Arm it in rags, a pygmy's straw does pierce it.
- None does offend, none- I say none! I'll able 'em.
- Take that of me, my friend, who have the power
- To seal th' accuser's lips. Get thee glass eyes
- And, like a scurvy politician, seem
- To see the things thou dost not. Now, now, now, now!
- Pull off my boots. Harder, harder! So.
- Edg. O, matter and impertinency mix'd!
- Reason, in madness!
- Lear. If thou wilt weep my fortunes, take my eyes.
- I know thee well enough; thy name is Gloucester.
- Thou must be patient. We came crying hither;
- Thou know'st, the first time that we smell the air
- We wawl and cry. I will preach to thee. Mark.
- Glou. Alack, alack the day!
- Lear. When we are born, we cry that we are come
- To this great stage of fools. This' a good block.
- It were a delicate stratagem to shoe
- A troop of horse with felt. I'll put't in proof,
- And when I have stol'n upon these sons-in-law,
- Then kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill!
-
- Enter a Gentleman [with Attendants].
-
- Gent. O, here he is! Lay hand upon him.- Sir,
- Your most dear daughter-
- Lear. No rescue? What, a prisoner? I am even
- The natural fool of fortune. Use me well;
- You shall have ransom. Let me have a surgeon;
- I am cut to th' brains.
- Gent. You shall have anything.
- Lear. No seconds? All myself?
- Why, this would make a man a man of salt,
- To use his eyes for garden waterpots,
- Ay, and laying autumn's dust.
- Gent. Good sir-
- Lear. I will die bravely, like a smug bridegroom. What!
- I will be jovial. Come, come, I am a king;
- My masters, know you that?
- Gent. You are a royal one, and we obey you.
- Lear. Then there's life in't. Nay, an you get it, you shall get it
- by running. Sa, sa, sa, sa!
- Exit running. [Attendants follow.]
- Gent. A sight most pitiful in the meanest wretch,
- Past speaking of in a king! Thou hast one daughter
- Who redeems nature from the general curse
- Which twain have brought her to.
- Edg. Hail, gentle sir.
- Gent. Sir, speed you. What's your will?
- Edg. Do you hear aught, sir, of a battle toward?
- Gent. Most sure and vulgar. Every one hears that
- Which can distinguish sound.
- Edg. But, by your favour,
- How near's the other army?
- Gent. Near and on speedy foot. The main descry
- Stands on the hourly thought.
- Edg. I thank you sir. That's all.
- Gent. Though that the Queen on special cause is here,
- Her army is mov'd on.
- Edg. I thank you, sir
- Exit [Gentleman].
- Glou. You ever-gentle gods, take my breath from me;
- Let not my worser spirit tempt me again
- To die before you please!
- Edg. Well pray you, father.
- Glou. Now, good sir, what are you?
- Edg. A most poor man, made tame to fortune's blows,
- Who, by the art of known and feeling sorrows,
- Am pregnant to good pity. Give me your hand;
- I'll lead you to some biding.
- Glou. Hearty thanks.
- The bounty and the benison of heaven
- To boot, and boot!
-
- Enter [Oswald the] Steward.
-
- Osw. A proclaim'd prize! Most happy!
- That eyeless head of thine was first fram'd flesh
- To raise my fortunes. Thou old unhappy traitor,
- Briefly thyself remember. The sword is out
- That must destroy thee.
- Glou. Now let thy friendly hand
- Put strength enough to't.
- [Edgar interposes.]
- Osw. Wherefore, bold peasant,
- Dar'st thou support a publish'd traitor? Hence!
- Lest that th' infection of his fortune take
- Like hold on thee. Let go his arm.
- Edg. Chill not let go, zir, without vurther 'cagion.
- Osw. Let go, slave, or thou diest!
- Edg. Good gentleman, go your gait, and let poor voke pass. An chud
- ha' bin zwagger'd out of my life, 'twould not ha' bin zo long as
- 'tis by a vortnight. Nay, come not near th' old man. Keep out,
- che vore ye, or Ise try whether your costard or my ballow be the
- harder. Chill be plain with you.
- Osw. Out, dunghill!
- They fight.
- Edg. Chill pick your teeth, zir. Come! No matter vor your foins.
- [Oswald falls.]
- Osw. Slave, thou hast slain me. Villain, take my purse.
- If ever thou wilt thrive, bury my body,
- And give the letters which thou find'st about me
- To Edmund Earl of Gloucester. Seek him out
- Upon the British party. O, untimely death! Death!
- He dies.
- Edg. I know thee well. A serviceable villain,
- As duteous to the vices of thy mistress
- As badness would desire.
- Glou. What, is he dead?
- Edg. Sit you down, father; rest you.
- Let's see his pockets; these letters that he speaks of
- May be my friends. He's dead. I am only sorry
- He had no other deathsman. Let us see.
- Leave, gentle wax; and, manners, blame us not.
- To know our enemies' minds, we'ld rip their hearts;
- Their papers, is more lawful. Reads the letter.
-
- 'Let our reciprocal vows be rememb'red. You have many
- opportunities to cut him off. If your will want not, time and
- place will be fruitfully offer'd. There is nothing done, if he
- return the conqueror. Then am I the prisoner, and his bed my
- jail; from the loathed warmth whereof deliver me, and supply the
- place for your labour.
- 'Your (wife, so I would say) affectionate servant,
- 'Goneril.'
-
- O indistinguish'd space of woman's will!
- A plot upon her virtuous husband's life,
- And the exchange my brother! Here in the sands
- Thee I'll rake up, the post unsanctified
- Of murtherous lechers; and in the mature time
- With this ungracious paper strike the sight
- Of the death-practis'd Duke, For him 'tis well
- That of thy death and business I can tell.
- Glou. The King is mad. How stiff is my vile sense,
- That I stand up, and have ingenious feeling
- Of my huge sorrows! Better I were distract.
- So should my thoughts be sever'd from my griefs,
- And woes by wrong imaginations lose
- The knowledge of themselves.
- A drum afar off.
- Edg. Give me your hand.
- Far off methinks I hear the beaten drum.
- Come, father, I'll bestow you with a friend. Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-Scene VII.
-A tent in the French camp.
-
-Enter Cordelia, Kent, Doctor, and Gentleman.
-
- Cor. O thou good Kent, how shall I live and work
- To match thy goodness? My life will be too short
- And every measure fail me.
- Kent. To be acknowledg'd, madam, is o'erpaid.
- All my reports go with the modest truth;
- Nor more nor clipp'd, but so.
- Cor. Be better suited.
- These weeds are memories of those worser hours.
- I prithee put them off.
- Kent. Pardon, dear madam.
- Yet to be known shortens my made intent.
- My boon I make it that you know me not
- Till time and I think meet.
- Cor. Then be't so, my good lord. [To the Doctor] How, does the King?
- Doct. Madam, sleeps still.
- Cor. O you kind gods,
- Cure this great breach in his abused nature!
- Th' untun'd and jarring senses, O, wind up
- Of this child-changed father!
- Doct. So please your Majesty
- That we may wake the King? He hath slept long.
- Cor. Be govern'd by your knowledge, and proceed
- I' th' sway of your own will. Is he array'd?
-
- Enter Lear in a chair carried by Servants.
-
- Gent. Ay, madam. In the heaviness of sleep
- We put fresh garments on him.
- Doct. Be by, good madam, when we do awake him.
- I doubt not of his temperance.
- Cor. Very well.
- Music.
- Doct. Please you draw near. Louder the music there!
- Cor. O my dear father, restoration hang
- Thy medicine on my lips, and let this kiss
- Repair those violent harms that my two sisters
- Have in thy reverence made!
- Kent. Kind and dear princess!
- Cor. Had you not been their father, these white flakes
- Had challeng'd pity of them. Was this a face
- To be oppos'd against the warring winds?
- To stand against the deep dread-bolted thunder?
- In the most terrible and nimble stroke
- Of quick cross lightning? to watch- poor perdu!-
- With this thin helm? Mine enemy's dog,
- Though he had bit me, should have stood that night
- Against my fire; and wast thou fain, poor father,
- To hovel thee with swine and rogues forlorn,
- In short and musty straw? Alack, alack!
- 'Tis wonder that thy life and wits at once
- Had not concluded all.- He wakes. Speak to him.
- Doct. Madam, do you; 'tis fittest.
- Cor. How does my royal lord? How fares your Majesty?
- Lear. You do me wrong to take me out o' th' grave.
- Thou art a soul in bliss; but I am bound
- Upon a wheel of fire, that mine own tears
- Do scald like molten lead.
- Cor. Sir, do you know me?
- Lear. You are a spirit, I know. When did you die?
- Cor. Still, still, far wide!
- Doct. He's scarce awake. Let him alone awhile.
- Lear. Where have I been? Where am I? Fair daylight,
- I am mightily abus'd. I should e'en die with pity,
- To see another thus. I know not what to say.
- I will not swear these are my hands. Let's see.
- I feel this pin prick. Would I were assur'd
- Of my condition!
- Cor. O, look upon me, sir,
- And hold your hands in benediction o'er me.
- No, sir, you must not kneel.
- Lear. Pray, do not mock me.
- I am a very foolish fond old man,
- Fourscore and upward, not an hour more nor less;
- And, to deal plainly,
- I fear I am not in my perfect mind.
- Methinks I should know you, and know this man;
- Yet I am doubtful; for I am mainly ignorant
- What place this is; and all the skill I have
- Remembers not these garments; nor I know not
- Where I did lodge last night. Do not laugh at me;
- For (as I am a man) I think this lady
- To be my child Cordelia.
- Cor. And so I am! I am!
- Lear. Be your tears wet? Yes, faith. I pray weep not.
- If you have poison for me, I will drink it.
- I know you do not love me; for your sisters
- Have, as I do remember, done me wrong.
- You have some cause, they have not.
- Cor. No cause, no cause.
- Lear. Am I in France?
- Kent. In your own kingdom, sir.
- Lear. Do not abuse me.
- Doct. Be comforted, good madam. The great rage
- You see is kill'd in him; and yet it is danger
- To make him even o'er the time he has lost.
- Desire him to go in. Trouble him no more
- Till further settling.
- Cor. Will't please your Highness walk?
- Lear. You must bear with me.
- Pray you now, forget and forgive. I am old and foolish.
- Exeunt. Manent Kent and Gentleman.
- Gent. Holds it true, sir, that the Duke of Cornwall was so slain?
- Kent. Most certain, sir.
- Gent. Who is conductor of his people?
- Kent. As 'tis said, the bastard son of Gloucester.
- Gent. They say Edgar, his banish'd son, is with the Earl of Kent
- in Germany.
- Kent. Report is changeable. 'Tis time to look about; the powers of
- the kingdom approach apace.
- Gent. The arbitrement is like to be bloody.
- Fare you well, sir. [Exit.]
- Kent. My point and period will be throughly wrought,
- Or well or ill, as this day's battle's fought. Exit.
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT V. Scene I.
-The British camp near Dover.
-
-Enter, with Drum and Colours, Edmund, Regan, Gentleman, and Soldiers.
-
- Edm. Know of the Duke if his last purpose hold,
- Or whether since he is advis'd by aught
- To change the course. He's full of alteration
- And self-reproving. Bring his constant pleasure.
- [Exit an Officer.]
- Reg. Our sister's man is certainly miscarried.
- Edm. Tis to be doubted, madam.
- Reg. Now, sweet lord,
- You know the goodness I intend upon you.
- Tell me- but truly- but then speak the truth-
- Do you not love my sister?
- Edm. In honour'd love.
- Reg. But have you never found my brother's way
- To the forfended place?
- Edm. That thought abuses you.
- Reg. I am doubtful that you have been conjunct
- And bosom'd with her, as far as we call hers.
- Edm. No, by mine honour, madam.
- Reg. I never shall endure her. Dear my lord,
- Be not familiar with her.
- Edm. Fear me not.
- She and the Duke her husband!
-
- Enter, with Drum and Colours, Albany, Goneril, Soldiers.
-
- Gon. [aside] I had rather lose the battle than that sister
- Should loosen him and me.
- Alb. Our very loving sister, well bemet.
- Sir, this I hear: the King is come to his daughter,
- With others whom the rigour of our state
- Forc'd to cry out. Where I could not be honest,
- I never yet was valiant. For this business,
- It toucheth us as France invades our land,
- Not bolds the King, with others whom, I fear,
- Most just and heavy causes make oppose.
- Edm. Sir, you speak nobly.
- Reg. Why is this reason'd?
- Gon. Combine together 'gainst the enemy;
- For these domestic and particular broils
- Are not the question here.
- Alb. Let's then determine
- With th' ancient of war on our proceeding.
- Edm. I shall attend you presently at your tent.
- Reg. Sister, you'll go with us?
- Gon. No.
- Reg. 'Tis most convenient. Pray you go with us.
- Gon. [aside] O, ho, I know the riddle.- I will go.
-
- [As they are going out,] enter Edgar [disguised].
-
- Edg. If e'er your Grace had speech with man so poor,
- Hear me one word.
- Alb. I'll overtake you.- Speak.
- Exeunt [all but Albany and Edgar].
- Edg. Before you fight the battle, ope this letter.
- If you have victory, let the trumpet sound
- For him that brought it. Wretched though I seem,
- I can produce a champion that will prove
- What is avouched there. If you miscarry,
- Your business of the world hath so an end,
- And machination ceases. Fortune love you!
- Alb. Stay till I have read the letter.
- Edg. I was forbid it.
- When time shall serve, let but the herald cry,
- And I'll appear again.
- Alb. Why, fare thee well. I will o'erlook thy paper.
- Exit [Edgar].
-
- Enter Edmund.
-
- Edm. The enemy 's in view; draw up your powers.
- Here is the guess of their true strength and forces
- By diligent discovery; but your haste
- Is now urg'd on you.
- Alb. We will greet the time. Exit.
- Edm. To both these sisters have I sworn my love;
- Each jealous of the other, as the stung
- Are of the adder. Which of them shall I take?
- Both? one? or neither? Neither can be enjoy'd,
- If both remain alive. To take the widow
- Exasperates, makes mad her sister Goneril;
- And hardly shall I carry out my side,
- Her husband being alive. Now then, we'll use
- His countenance for the battle, which being done,
- Let her who would be rid of him devise
- His speedy taking off. As for the mercy
- Which he intends to Lear and to Cordelia-
- The battle done, and they within our power,
- Shall never see his pardon; for my state
- Stands on me to defend, not to debate. Exit.
-
-
-
-
-Scene II.
-A field between the two camps.
-
-Alarum within. Enter, with Drum and Colours, the Powers of France
-over the stage, Cordelia with her Father in her hand, and exeunt.
-
-Enter Edgar and Gloucester.
-
- Edg. Here, father, take the shadow of this tree
- For your good host. Pray that the right may thrive.
- If ever I return to you again,
- I'll bring you comfort.
- Glou. Grace go with you, sir!
- Exit [Edgar].
-
- Alarum and retreat within. Enter Edgar,
-
- Edg. Away, old man! give me thy hand! away!
- King Lear hath lost, he and his daughter ta'en.
- Give me thy hand! come on!
- Glou. No further, sir. A man may rot even here.
- Edg. What, in ill thoughts again? Men must endure
- Their going hence, even as their coming hither;
- Ripeness is all. Come on.
- Glou. And that's true too. Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-Scene III.
-The British camp, near Dover.
-
-Enter, in conquest, with Drum and Colours, Edmund; Lear and Cordelia
-as prisoners; Soldiers, Captain.
-
- Edm. Some officers take them away. Good guard
- Until their greater pleasures first be known
- That are to censure them.
- Cor. We are not the first
- Who with best meaning have incurr'd the worst.
- For thee, oppressed king, am I cast down;
- Myself could else outfrown false Fortune's frown.
- Shall we not see these daughters and these sisters?
- Lear. No, no, no, no! Come, let's away to prison.
- We two alone will sing like birds i' th' cage.
- When thou dost ask me blessing, I'll kneel down
- And ask of thee forgiveness. So we'll live,
- And pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh
- At gilded butterflies, and hear poor rogues
- Talk of court news; and we'll talk with them too-
- Who loses and who wins; who's in, who's out-
- And take upon 's the mystery of things,
- As if we were God's spies; and we'll wear out,
- In a wall'd prison, packs and sects of great ones
- That ebb and flow by th' moon.
- Edm. Take them away.
- Lear. Upon such sacrifices, my Cordelia,
- The gods themselves throw incense. Have I caught thee?
- He that parts us shall bring a brand from heaven
- And fire us hence like foxes. Wipe thine eyes.
- The goodyears shall devour 'em, flesh and fell,
- Ere they shall make us weep! We'll see 'em starv'd first.
- Come. Exeunt [Lear and Cordelia, guarded].
- Edm. Come hither, Captain; hark.
- Take thou this note [gives a paper]. Go follow them to prison.
- One step I have advanc'd thee. If thou dost
- As this instructs thee, thou dost make thy way
- To noble fortunes. Know thou this, that men
- Are as the time is. To be tender-minded
- Does not become a sword. Thy great employment
- Will not bear question. Either say thou'lt do't,
- Or thrive by other means.
- Capt. I'll do't, my lord.
- Edm. About it! and write happy when th' hast done.
- Mark- I say, instantly; and carry it so
- As I have set it down.
- Capt. I cannot draw a cart, nor eat dried oats;
- If it be man's work, I'll do't. Exit.
-
- Flourish. Enter Albany, Goneril, Regan, Soldiers.
-
- Alb. Sir, you have show'd to-day your valiant strain,
- And fortune led you well. You have the captives
- Who were the opposites of this day's strife.
- We do require them of you, so to use them
- As we shall find their merits and our safety
- May equally determine.
- Edm. Sir, I thought it fit
- To send the old and miserable King
- To some retention and appointed guard;
- Whose age has charms in it, whose title more,
- To pluck the common bosom on his side
- And turn our impress'd lances in our eyes
- Which do command them. With him I sent the Queen,
- My reason all the same; and they are ready
- To-morrow, or at further space, t' appear
- Where you shall hold your session. At this time
- We sweat and bleed: the friend hath lost his friend;
- And the best quarrels, in the heat, are curs'd
- By those that feel their sharpness.
- The question of Cordelia and her father
- Requires a fitter place.
- Alb. Sir, by your patience,
- I hold you but a subject of this war,
- Not as a brother.
- Reg. That's as we list to grace him.
- Methinks our pleasure might have been demanded
- Ere you had spoke so far. He led our powers,
- Bore the commission of my place and person,
- The which immediacy may well stand up
- And call itself your brother.
- Gon. Not so hot!
- In his own grace he doth exalt himself
- More than in your addition.
- Reg. In my rights
- By me invested, he compeers the best.
- Gon. That were the most if he should husband you.
- Reg. Jesters do oft prove prophets.
- Gon. Holla, holla!
- That eye that told you so look'd but asquint.
- Reg. Lady, I am not well; else I should answer
- From a full-flowing stomach. General,
- Take thou my soldiers, prisoners, patrimony;
- Dispose of them, of me; the walls are thine.
- Witness the world that I create thee here
- My lord and master.
- Gon. Mean you to enjoy him?
- Alb. The let-alone lies not in your good will.
- Edm. Nor in thine, lord.
- Alb. Half-blooded fellow, yes.
- Reg. [to Edmund] Let the drum strike, and prove my title thine.
- Alb. Stay yet; hear reason. Edmund, I arrest thee
- On capital treason; and, in thine attaint,
- This gilded serpent [points to Goneril]. For your claim, fair
- sister,
- I bar it in the interest of my wife.
- 'Tis she is subcontracted to this lord,
- And I, her husband, contradict your banes.
- If you will marry, make your loves to me;
- My lady is bespoke.
- Gon. An interlude!
- Alb. Thou art arm'd, Gloucester. Let the trumpet sound.
- If none appear to prove upon thy person
- Thy heinous, manifest, and many treasons,
- There is my pledge [throws down a glove]! I'll prove it on thy
- heart,
- Ere I taste bread, thou art in nothing less
- Than I have here proclaim'd thee.
- Reg. Sick, O, sick!
- Gon. [aside] If not, I'll ne'er trust medicine.
- Edm. There's my exchange [throws down a glove]. What in the world
- he is
- That names me traitor, villain-like he lies.
- Call by thy trumpet. He that dares approach,
- On him, on you, who not? I will maintain
- My truth and honour firmly.
- Alb. A herald, ho!
- Edm. A herald, ho, a herald!
- Alb. Trust to thy single virtue; for thy soldiers,
- All levied in my name, have in my name
- Took their discharge.
- Reg. My sickness grows upon me.
- Alb. She is not well. Convey her to my tent.
- [Exit Regan, led.]
-
- Enter a Herald.
-
- Come hither, herald. Let the trumpet sound,
- And read out this.
- Capt. Sound, trumpet! A trumpet sounds.
-
- Her. (reads) 'If any man of quality or degree within the lists of
- the army will maintain upon Edmund, supposed Earl of Gloucester,
- that he is a manifold traitor, let him appear by the third sound
- of the trumpet. He is bold in his defence.'
-
- Edm. Sound! First trumpet.
- Her. Again! Second trumpet.
- Her. Again! Third trumpet.
- Trumpet answers within.
-
- Enter Edgar, armed, at the third sound, a Trumpet before him.
-
- Alb. Ask him his purposes, why he appears
- Upon this call o' th' trumpet.
- Her. What are you?
- Your name, your quality? and why you answer
- This present summons?
- Edg. Know my name is lost;
- By treason's tooth bare-gnawn and canker-bit.
- Yet am I noble as the adversary
- I come to cope.
- Alb. Which is that adversary?
- Edg. What's he that speaks for Edmund Earl of Gloucester?
- Edm. Himself. What say'st thou to him?
- Edg. Draw thy sword,
- That, if my speech offend a noble heart,
- Thy arm may do thee justice. Here is mine.
- Behold, it is the privilege of mine honours,
- My oath, and my profession. I protest-
- Maugre thy strength, youth, place, and eminence,
- Despite thy victor sword and fire-new fortune,
- Thy valour and thy heart- thou art a traitor;
- False to thy gods, thy brother, and thy father;
- Conspirant 'gainst this high illustrious prince;
- And from th' extremest upward of thy head
- To the descent and dust beneath thy foot,
- A most toad-spotted traitor. Say thou 'no,'
- This sword, this arm, and my best spirits are bent
- To prove upon thy heart, whereto I speak,
- Thou liest.
- Edm. In wisdom I should ask thy name;
- But since thy outside looks so fair and warlike,
- And that thy tongue some say of breeding breathes,
- What safe and nicely I might well delay
- By rule of knighthood, I disdain and spurn.
- Back do I toss those treasons to thy head;
- With the hell-hated lie o'erwhelm thy heart;
- Which- for they yet glance by and scarcely bruise-
- This sword of mine shall give them instant way
- Where they shall rest for ever. Trumpets, speak!
- Alarums. Fight. [Edmund falls.]
- Alb. Save him, save him!
- Gon. This is mere practice, Gloucester.
- By th' law of arms thou wast not bound to answer
- An unknown opposite. Thou art not vanquish'd,
- But cozen'd and beguil'd.
- Alb. Shut your mouth, dame,
- Or with this paper shall I stop it. [Shows her her letter to
- Edmund.]- [To Edmund]. Hold, sir.
- [To Goneril] Thou worse than any name, read thine own evil.
- No tearing, lady! I perceive you know it.
- Gon. Say if I do- the laws are mine, not thine.
- Who can arraign me for't?
- Alb. Most monstrous!
- Know'st thou this paper?
- Gon. Ask me not what I know. Exit.
- Alb. Go after her. She's desperate; govern her.
- [Exit an Officer.]
- Edm. What, you have charg'd me with, that have I done,
- And more, much more. The time will bring it out.
- 'Tis past, and so am I.- But what art thou
- That hast this fortune on me? If thou'rt noble,
- I do forgive thee.
- Edg. Let's exchange charity.
- I am no less in blood than thou art, Edmund;
- If more, the more th' hast wrong'd me.
- My name is Edgar and thy father's son.
- The gods are just, and of our pleasant vices
- Make instruments to scourge us.
- The dark and vicious place where thee he got
- Cost him his eyes.
- Edm. Th' hast spoken right; 'tis true.
- The wheel is come full circle; I am here.
- Alb. Methought thy very gait did prophesy
- A royal nobleness. I must embrace thee.
- Let sorrow split my heart if ever I
- Did hate thee, or thy father!
- Edg. Worthy prince, I know't.
- Alb. Where have you hid yourself?
- How have you known the miseries of your father?
- Edg. By nursing them, my lord. List a brief tale;
- And when 'tis told, O that my heart would burst!
- The bloody proclamation to escape
- That follow'd me so near (O, our lives' sweetness!
- That with the pain of death would hourly die
- Rather than die at once!) taught me to shift
- Into a madman's rags, t' assume a semblance
- That very dogs disdain'd; and in this habit
- Met I my father with his bleeding rings,
- Their precious stones new lost; became his guide,
- Led him, begg'd for him, sav'd him from despair;
- Never (O fault!) reveal'd myself unto him
- Until some half hour past, when I was arm'd,
- Not sure, though hoping of this good success,
- I ask'd his blessing, and from first to last
- Told him my pilgrimage. But his flaw'd heart
- (Alack, too weak the conflict to support!)
- 'Twixt two extremes of passion, joy and grief,
- Burst smilingly.
- Edm. This speech of yours hath mov'd me,
- And shall perchance do good; but speak you on;
- You look as you had something more to say.
- Alb. If there be more, more woful, hold it in;
- For I am almost ready to dissolve,
- Hearing of this.
- Edg. This would have seem'd a period
- To such as love not sorrow; but another,
- To amplify too much, would make much more,
- And top extremity.
- Whilst I was big in clamour, came there a man,
- Who, having seen me in my worst estate,
- Shunn'd my abhorr'd society; but then, finding
- Who 'twas that so endur'd, with his strong arms
- He fastened on my neck, and bellowed out
- As he'd burst heaven; threw him on my father;
- Told the most piteous tale of Lear and him
- That ever ear receiv'd; which in recounting
- His grief grew puissant, and the strings of life
- Began to crack. Twice then the trumpets sounded,
- And there I left him tranc'd.
- Alb. But who was this?
- Edg. Kent, sir, the banish'd Kent; who in disguise
- Followed his enemy king and did him service
- Improper for a slave.
-
- Enter a Gentleman with a bloody knife.
-
- Gent. Help, help! O, help!
- Edg. What kind of help?
- Alb. Speak, man.
- Edg. What means that bloody knife?
- Gent. 'Tis hot, it smokes.
- It came even from the heart of- O! she's dead!
- Alb. Who dead? Speak, man.
- Gent. Your lady, sir, your lady! and her sister
- By her is poisoned; she hath confess'd it.
- Edm. I was contracted to them both. All three
- Now marry in an instant.
-
- Enter Kent.
-
- Edg. Here comes Kent.
- Alb. Produce their bodies, be they alive or dead.
- [Exit Gentleman.]
- This judgement of the heavens, that makes us tremble
- Touches us not with pity. O, is this he?
- The time will not allow the compliment
- That very manners urges.
- Kent. I am come
- To bid my king and master aye good night.
- Is he not here?
- Alb. Great thing of us forgot!
- Speak, Edmund, where's the King? and where's Cordelia?
- The bodies of Goneril and Regan are brought in.
- Seest thou this object, Kent?
- Kent. Alack, why thus?
- Edm. Yet Edmund was belov'd.
- The one the other poisoned for my sake,
- And after slew herself.
- Alb. Even so. Cover their faces.
- Edm. I pant for life. Some good I mean to do,
- Despite of mine own nature. Quickly send
- (Be brief in't) to the castle; for my writ
- Is on the life of Lear and on Cordelia.
- Nay, send in time.
- Alb. Run, run, O, run!
- Edg. To who, my lord? Who has the office? Send
- Thy token of reprieve.
- Edm. Well thought on. Take my sword;
- Give it the Captain.
- Alb. Haste thee for thy life. [Exit Edgar.]
- Edm. He hath commission from thy wife and me
- To hang Cordelia in the prison and
- To lay the blame upon her own despair
- That she fordid herself.
- Alb. The gods defend her! Bear him hence awhile.
- [Edmund is borne off.]
-
- Enter Lear, with Cordelia [dead] in his arms, [Edgar, Captain,
- and others following].
-
- Lear. Howl, howl, howl, howl! O, you are men of stone.
- Had I your tongues and eyes, I'ld use them so
- That heaven's vault should crack. She's gone for ever!
- I know when one is dead, and when one lives.
- She's dead as earth. Lend me a looking glass.
- If that her breath will mist or stain the stone,
- Why, then she lives.
- Kent. Is this the promis'd end?
- Edg. Or image of that horror?
- Alb. Fall and cease!
- Lear. This feather stirs; she lives! If it be so,
- It is a chance which does redeem all sorrows
- That ever I have felt.
- Kent. O my good master!
- Lear. Prithee away!
- Edg. 'Tis noble Kent, your friend.
- Lear. A plague upon you, murderers, traitors all!
- I might have sav'd her; now she's gone for ever!
- Cordelia, Cordelia! stay a little. Ha!
- What is't thou say'st, Her voice was ever soft,
- Gentle, and low- an excellent thing in woman.
- I kill'd the slave that was a-hanging thee.
- Capt. 'Tis true, my lords, he did.
- Lear. Did I not, fellow?
- I have seen the day, with my good biting falchion
- I would have made them skip. I am old now,
- And these same crosses spoil me. Who are you?
- Mine eyes are not o' th' best. I'll tell you straight.
- Kent. If fortune brag of two she lov'd and hated,
- One of them we behold.
- Lear. This' a dull sight. Are you not Kent?
- Kent. The same-
- Your servant Kent. Where is your servant Caius?
- Lear. He's a good fellow, I can tell you that.
- He'll strike, and quickly too. He's dead and rotten.
- Kent. No, my good lord; I am the very man-
- Lear. I'll see that straight.
- Kent. That from your first of difference and decay
- Have followed your sad steps.
- Lear. You're welcome hither.
- Kent. Nor no man else! All's cheerless, dark, and deadly.
- Your eldest daughters have fordone themselves,
- And desperately are dead.
- Lear. Ay, so I think.
- Alb. He knows not what he says; and vain is it
- That we present us to him.
- Edg. Very bootless.
-
- Enter a Captain.
-
- Capt. Edmund is dead, my lord.
- Alb. That's but a trifle here.
- You lords and noble friends, know our intent.
- What comfort to this great decay may come
- Shall be applied. For us, we will resign,
- During the life of this old Majesty,
- To him our absolute power; [to Edgar and Kent] you to your
- rights;
- With boot, and Such addition as your honours
- Have more than merited.- All friends shall taste
- The wages of their virtue, and all foes
- The cup of their deservings.- O, see, see!
- Lear. And my poor fool is hang'd! No, no, no life!
- Why should a dog, a horse, a rat, have life,
- And thou no breath at all? Thou'lt come no more,
- Never, never, never, never, never!
- Pray you undo this button. Thank you, sir.
- Do you see this? Look on her! look! her lips!
- Look there, look there! He dies.
- Edg. He faints! My lord, my lord!
- Kent. Break, heart; I prithee break!
- Edg. Look up, my lord.
- Kent. Vex not his ghost. O, let him pass! He hates him
- That would upon the rack of this tough world
- Stretch him out longer.
- Edg. He is gone indeed.
- Kent. The wonder is, he hath endur'd so long.
- He but usurp'd his life.
- Alb. Bear them from hence. Our present business
- Is general woe. [To Kent and Edgar] Friends of my soul, you
- twain
- Rule in this realm, and the gor'd state sustain.
- Kent. I have a journey, sir, shortly to go.
- My master calls me; I must not say no.
- Alb. The weight of this sad time we must obey,
- Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say.
- The oldest have borne most; we that are young
- Shall never see so much, nor live so long.
- Exeunt with a dead march.
-
-
-THE END
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-
-
-
-1595
-
-LOVE'S LABOUR'S LOST
-
-by William Shakespeare
-
-
-
-Dramatis Personae.
-
- FERDINAND, King of Navarre
- BEROWNE, lord attending on the King
- LONGAVILLE, " " " " "
- DUMAIN, " " " " "
- BOYET, lord attending on the Princess of France
- MARCADE, " " " " " " "
- DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO, fantastical Spaniard
- SIR NATHANIEL, a curate
- HOLOFERNES, a schoolmaster
- DULL, a constable
- COSTARD, a clown
- MOTH, page to Armado
- A FORESTER
-
- THE PRINCESS OF FRANCE
- ROSALINE, lady attending on the Princess
- MARIA, " " " " "
- KATHARINE, lady attending on the Princess
- JAQUENETTA, a country wench
-
- Lords, Attendants, etc.
-
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-SCENE:
-Navarre
-
-
-ACT I. SCENE I.
-Navarre. The King's park
-
-Enter the King, BEROWNE, LONGAVILLE, and DUMAIN
-
- KING. Let fame, that all hunt after in their lives,
- Live regist'red upon our brazen tombs,
- And then grace us in the disgrace of death;
- When, spite of cormorant devouring Time,
- Th' endeavour of this present breath may buy
- That honour which shall bate his scythe's keen edge,
- And make us heirs of all eternity.
- Therefore, brave conquerors- for so you are
- That war against your own affections
- And the huge army of the world's desires-
- Our late edict shall strongly stand in force:
- Navarre shall be the wonder of the world;
- Our court shall be a little Academe,
- Still and contemplative in living art.
- You three, Berowne, Dumain, and Longaville,
- Have sworn for three years' term to live with me
- My fellow-scholars, and to keep those statutes
- That are recorded in this schedule here.
- Your oaths are pass'd; and now subscribe your names,
- That his own hand may strike his honour down
- That violates the smallest branch herein.
- If you are arm'd to do as sworn to do,
- Subscribe to your deep oaths, and keep it too.
- LONGAVILLE. I am resolv'd; 'tis but a three years' fast.
- The mind shall banquet, though the body pine.
- Fat paunches have lean pates; and dainty bits
- Make rich the ribs, but bankrupt quite the wits.
- DUMAIN. My loving lord, Dumain is mortified.
- The grosser manner of these world's delights
- He throws upon the gross world's baser slaves;
- To love, to wealth, to pomp, I pine and die,
- With all these living in philosophy.
- BEROWNE. I can but say their protestation over;
- So much, dear liege, I have already sworn,
- That is, to live and study here three years.
- But there are other strict observances,
- As: not to see a woman in that term,
- Which I hope well is not enrolled there;
- And one day in a week to touch no food,
- And but one meal on every day beside,
- The which I hope is not enrolled there;
- And then to sleep but three hours in the night
- And not be seen to wink of all the day-
- When I was wont to think no harm all night,
- And make a dark night too of half the day-
- Which I hope well is not enrolled there.
- O, these are barren tasks, too hard to keep,
- Not to see ladies, study, fast, not sleep!
- KING. Your oath is pass'd to pass away from these.
- BEROWNE. Let me say no, my liege, an if you please:
- I only swore to study with your Grace,
- And stay here in your court for three years' space.
- LONGAVILLE. You swore to that, Berowne, and to the rest.
- BEROWNE. By yea and nay, sir, then I swore in jest.
- What is the end of study, let me know.
- KING. Why, that to know which else we should not know.
- BEROWNE. Things hid and barr'd, you mean, from common sense?
- KING. Ay, that is study's god-like recompense.
- BEROWNE. Come on, then; I will swear to study so,
- To know the thing I am forbid to know,
- As thus: to study where I well may dine,
- When I to feast expressly am forbid;
- Or study where to meet some mistress fine,
- When mistresses from common sense are hid;
- Or, having sworn too hard-a-keeping oath,
- Study to break it, and not break my troth.
- If study's gain be thus, and this be so,
- Study knows that which yet it doth not know.
- Swear me to this, and I will ne'er say no.
- KING. These be the stops that hinder study quite,
- And train our intellects to vain delight.
- BEROWNE. Why, all delights are vain; but that most vain
- Which, with pain purchas'd, doth inherit pain,
- As painfully to pore upon a book
- To seek the light of truth; while truth the while
- Doth falsely blind the eyesight of his look.
- Light, seeking light, doth light of light beguile;
- So, ere you find where light in darkness lies,
- Your light grows dark by losing of your eyes.
- Study me how to please the eye indeed,
- By fixing it upon a fairer eye;
- Who dazzling so, that eye shall be his heed,
- And give him light that it was blinded by.
- Study is like the heaven's glorious sun,
- That will not be deep-search'd with saucy looks;
- Small have continual plodders ever won,
- Save base authority from others' books.
- These earthly godfathers of heaven's lights
- That give a name to every fixed star
- Have no more profit of their shining nights
- Than those that walk and wot not what they are.
- Too much to know is to know nought but fame;
- And every godfather can give a name.
- KING. How well he's read, to reason against reading!
- DUMAIN. Proceeded well, to stop all good proceeding!
- LONGAVILLE. He weeds the corn, and still lets grow the weeding.
- BEROWNE. The spring is near, when green geese are a-breeding.
- DUMAIN. How follows that?
- BEROWNE. Fit in his place and time.
- DUMAIN. In reason nothing.
- BEROWNE. Something then in rhyme.
- LONGAVILLE. Berowne is like an envious sneaping frost
- That bites the first-born infants of the spring.
- BEROWNE. Well, say I am; why should proud summer boast
- Before the birds have any cause to sing?
- Why should I joy in any abortive birth?
- At Christmas I no more desire a rose
- Than wish a snow in May's new-fangled shows;
- But like of each thing that in season grows;
- So you, to study now it is too late,
- Climb o'er the house to unlock the little gate.
- KING. Well, sit out; go home, Berowne; adieu.
- BEROWNE. No, my good lord; I have sworn to stay with you;
- And though I have for barbarism spoke more
- Than for that angel knowledge you can say,
- Yet confident I'll keep what I have swore,
- And bide the penance of each three years' day.
- Give me the paper; let me read the same;
- And to the strictest decrees I'll write my name.
- KING. How well this yielding rescues thee from shame!
- BEROWNE. [Reads] 'Item. That no woman shall come within a mile of
- my court'- Hath this been proclaimed?
- LONGAVILLE. Four days ago.
- BEROWNE. Let's see the penalty. [Reads] '-on pain of losing her
- tongue.' Who devis'd this penalty?
- LONGAVILLE. Marry, that did I.
- BEROWNE. Sweet lord, and why?
- LONGAVILLE. To fright them hence with that dread penalty.
- BEROWNE. A dangerous law against gentility.
- [Reads] 'Item. If any man be seen to talk with a woman within
- the term of three years, he shall endure such public shame as the
- rest of the court can possibly devise.'
- This article, my liege, yourself must break;
- For well you know here comes in embassy
- The French king's daughter, with yourself to speak-
- A mild of grace and complete majesty-
- About surrender up of Aquitaine
- To her decrepit, sick, and bedrid father;
- Therefore this article is made in vain,
- Or vainly comes th' admired princess hither.
- KING. What say you, lords? Why, this was quite forgot.
- BEROWNE. So study evermore is over-shot.
- While it doth study to have what it would,
- It doth forget to do the thing it should;
- And when it hath the thing it hunteth most,
- 'Tis won as towns with fire- so won, so lost.
- KING. We must of force dispense with this decree;
- She must lie here on mere necessity.
- BEROWNE. Necessity will make us all forsworn
- Three thousand times within this three years' space;
- For every man with his affects is born,
- Not by might mast'red, but by special grace.
- If I break faith, this word shall speak for me:
- I am forsworn on mere necessity.
- So to the laws at large I write my name; [Subscribes]
- And he that breaks them in the least degree
- Stands in attainder of eternal shame.
- Suggestions are to other as to me;
- But I believe, although I seem so loath,
- I am the last that will last keep his oath.
- But is there no quick recreation granted?
- KING. Ay, that there is. Our court, you know, is haunted
- With a refined traveller of Spain,
- A man in all the world's new fashion planted,
- That hath a mint of phrases in his brain;
- One who the music of his own vain tongue
- Doth ravish like enchanting harmony;
- A man of complements, whom right and wrong
- Have chose as umpire of their mutiny.
- This child of fancy, that Armado hight,
- For interim to our studies shall relate,
- In high-born words, the worth of many a knight
- From tawny Spain lost in the world's debate.
- How you delight, my lords, I know not, I;
- But I protest I love to hear him lie,
- And I will use him for my minstrelsy.
- BEROWNE. Armado is a most illustrious wight,
- A man of fire-new words, fashion's own knight.
- LONGAVILLE. Costard the swain and he shall be our sport;
- And so to study three years is but short.
-
- Enter DULL, a constable, with a letter, and COSTARD
-
- DULL. Which is the Duke's own person?
- BEROWNE. This, fellow. What wouldst?
- DULL. I myself reprehend his own person, for I am his Grace's
- farborough; but I would see his own person in flesh and blood.
- BEROWNE. This is he.
- DULL. Signior Arme- Arme- commends you. There's villainy abroad;
- this letter will tell you more.
- COSTARD. Sir, the contempts thereof are as touching me.
- KING. A letter from the magnificent Armado.
- BEROWNE. How low soever the matter, I hope in God for high words.
- LONGAVILLE. A high hope for a low heaven. God grant us patience!
- BEROWNE. To hear, or forbear hearing?
- LONGAVILLE. To hear meekly, sir, and to laugh moderately; or, to
- forbear both.
- BEROWNE. Well, sir, be it as the style shall give us cause to climb
- in the merriness.
- COSTARD. The matter is to me, sir, as concerning Jaquenetta.
- The manner of it is, I was taken with the manner.
- BEROWNE. In what manner?
- COSTARD. In manner and form following, sir; all those three: I was
- seen with her in the manor-house, sitting with her upon the form,
- and taken following her into the park; which, put together, is in
- manner and form following. Now, sir, for the manner- it is the
- manner of a man to speak to a woman. For the form- in some form.
- BEROWNE. For the following, sir?
- COSTARD. As it shall follow in my correction; and God defend the
- right!
- KING. Will you hear this letter with attention?
- BEROWNE. As we would hear an oracle.
- COSTARD. Such is the simplicity of man to hearken after the flesh.
- KING. [Reads] 'Great deputy, the welkin's vicegerent and sole
- dominator of Navarre, my soul's earth's god and body's fost'ring
- patron'-
- COSTARD. Not a word of Costard yet.
- KING. [Reads] 'So it is'-
- COSTARD. It may be so; but if he say it is so, he is, in telling
- true, but so.
- KING. Peace!
- COSTARD. Be to me, and every man that dares not fight!
- KING. No words!
- COSTARD. Of other men's secrets, I beseech you.
- KING. [Reads] 'So it is, besieged with sable-coloured melancholy, I
- did commend the black oppressing humour to the most wholesome
- physic of thy health-giving air; and, as I am a gentleman, betook
- myself to walk. The time When? About the sixth hour; when beasts
- most graze, birds best peck, and men sit down to that nourishment
- which is called supper. So much for the time When. Now for the
- ground Which? which, I mean, I upon; it is ycleped thy park. Then
- for the place Where? where, I mean, I did encounter that obscene
- and most prepost'rous event that draweth from my snow-white pen
- the ebon-coloured ink which here thou viewest, beholdest,
- surveyest, or seest. But to the place Where? It standeth
- north-north-east and by east from the west corner of thy
- curious-knotted garden. There did I see that low-spirited swain,
- that base minnow of thy mirth,'
- COSTARD. Me?
- KING. 'that unlettered small-knowing soul,'
- COSTARD. Me?
- KING. 'that shallow vassal,'
- COSTARD. Still me?
- KING. 'which, as I remember, hight Costard,'
- COSTARD. O, me!
- KING. 'sorted and consorted, contrary to thy established proclaimed
- edict and continent canon; which, with, O, with- but with this I
- passion to say wherewith-'
- COSTARD. With a wench.
- King. 'with a child of our grandmother Eve, a female; or, for thy
- more sweet understanding, a woman. Him I, as my ever-esteemed
- duty pricks me on, have sent to thee, to receive the meed of
- punishment, by thy sweet Grace's officer, Antony Dull, a man of
- good repute, carriage, bearing, and estimation.'
- DULL. Me, an't shall please you; I am Antony Dull.
- KING. 'For Jaquenetta- so is the weaker vessel called, which I
- apprehended with the aforesaid swain- I keep her as a vessel of
- thy law's fury; and shall, at the least of thy sweet notice,
- bring her to trial. Thine, in all compliments of devoted and
- heart-burning heat of duty,
- DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO.'
-
- BEROWNE. This is not so well as I look'd for, but the best that
- ever I heard.
- KING. Ay, the best for the worst. But, sirrah, what say you to
- this?
- COSTARD. Sir, I confess the wench.
- KING. Did you hear the proclamation?
- COSTARD. I do confess much of the hearing it, but little of the
- marking of it.
- KING. It was proclaimed a year's imprisonment to be taken with a
- wench.
- COSTARD. I was taken with none, sir; I was taken with a damsel.
- KING. Well, it was proclaimed damsel.
- COSTARD. This was no damsel neither, sir; she was a virgin.
- KING. It is so varied too, for it was proclaimed virgin.
- COSTARD. If it were, I deny her virginity; I was taken with a maid.
- KING. This 'maid' not serve your turn, sir.
- COSTARD. This maid will serve my turn, sir.
- KING. Sir, I will pronounce your sentence: you shall fast a week
- with bran and water.
- COSTARD. I had rather pray a month with mutton and porridge.
- KING. And Don Armado shall be your keeper.
- My Lord Berowne, see him delivered o'er;
- And go we, lords, to put in practice that
- Which each to other hath so strongly sworn.
- Exeunt KING, LONGAVILLE, and DUMAIN
- BEROWNE. I'll lay my head to any good man's hat
- These oaths and laws will prove an idle scorn.
- Sirrah, come on.
- COSTARD. I suffer for the truth, sir; for true it is I was taken
- with Jaquenetta, and Jaquenetta is a true girl; and therefore
- welcome the sour cup of prosperity! Affliction may one day smile
- again; and till then, sit thee down, sorrow.
- Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-The park
-
-Enter ARMADO and MOTH, his page
-
- ARMADO. Boy, what sign is it when a man of great spirit grows
- melancholy?
- MOTH. A great sign, sir, that he will look sad.
- ARMADO. Why, sadness is one and the self-same thing, dear imp.
- MOTH. No, no; O Lord, sir, no!
- ARMADO. How canst thou part sadness and melancholy, my tender
- juvenal?
- MOTH. By a familiar demonstration of the working, my tough signior.
- ARMADO. Why tough signior? Why tough signior?
- MOTH. Why tender juvenal? Why tender juvenal?
- ARMADO. I spoke it, tender juvenal, as a congruent epitheton
- appertaining to thy young days, which we may nominate tender.
- MOTH. And I, tough signior, as an appertinent title to your old
- time, which we may name tough.
- ARMADO. Pretty and apt.
- MOTH. How mean you, sir? I pretty, and my saying apt? or I apt, and
- my saying pretty?
- ARMADO. Thou pretty, because little.
- MOTH. Little pretty, because little. Wherefore apt?
- ARMADO. And therefore apt, because quick.
- MOTH. Speak you this in my praise, master?
- ARMADO. In thy condign praise.
- MOTH. I will praise an eel with the same praise.
- ARMADO. that an eel is ingenious?
- MOTH. That an eel is quick.
- ARMADO. I do say thou art quick in answers; thou heat'st my blood.
- MOTH. I am answer'd, sir.
- ARMADO. I love not to be cross'd.
- MOTH. [Aside] He speaks the mere contrary: crosses love not him.
- ARMADO. I have promised to study three years with the Duke.
- MOTH. You may do it in an hour, sir.
- ARMADO. Impossible.
- MOTH. How many is one thrice told?
- ARMADO. I am ill at reck'ning; it fitteth the spirit of a tapster.
- MOTH. You are a gentleman and a gamester, sir.
- ARMADO. I confess both; they are both the varnish of a complete
- man.
- MOTH. Then I am sure you know how much the gross sum of deuce-ace
- amounts to.
- ARMADO. It doth amount to one more than two.
- MOTH. Which the base vulgar do call three.
- ARMADO. True.
- MOTH. Why, sir, is this such a piece of study? Now here is three
- studied ere ye'll thrice wink; and how easy it is to put 'years'
- to the word 'three,' and study three years in two words, the
- dancing horse will tell you.
- ARMADO. A most fine figure!
- MOTH. [Aside] To prove you a cipher.
- ARMADO. I will hereupon confess I am in love. And as it is base for
- a soldier to love, so am I in love with a base wench. If drawing
- my sword against the humour of affection would deliver me from
- the reprobate thought of it, I would take Desire prisoner, and
- ransom him to any French courtier for a new-devis'd curtsy. I
- think scorn to sigh; methinks I should out-swear Cupid. Comfort
- me, boy; what great men have been in love?
- MOTH. Hercules, master.
- ARMADO. Most sweet Hercules! More authority, dear boy, name more;
- and, sweet my child, let them be men of good repute and carriage.
- MOTH. Samson, master; he was a man of good carriage, great
- carriage, for he carried the town gates on his back like a
- porter; and he was in love.
- ARMADO. O well-knit Samson! strong-jointed Samson! I do excel thee
- in my rapier as much as thou didst me in carrying gates. I am in
- love too. Who was Samson's love, my dear Moth?
- MOTH. A woman, master.
- ARMADO. Of what complexion?
- MOTH. Of all the four, or the three, or the two, or one of the
- four.
- ARMADO. Tell me precisely of what complexion.
- MOTH. Of the sea-water green, sir.
- ARMADO. Is that one of the four complexions?
- MOTH. As I have read, sir; and the best of them too.
- ARMADO. Green, indeed, is the colour of lovers; but to have a love
- of that colour, methinks Samson had small reason for it. He
- surely affected her for her wit.
- MOTH. It was so, sir; for she had a green wit.
- ARMADO. My love is most immaculate white and red.
- MOTH. Most maculate thoughts, master, are mask'd under such
- colours.
- ARMADO. Define, define, well-educated infant.
- MOTH. My father's wit my mother's tongue assist me!
- ARMADO. Sweet invocation of a child; most pretty, and pathetical!
- MOTH. If she be made of white and red,
- Her faults will ne'er be known;
- For blushing cheeks by faults are bred,
- And fears by pale white shown.
- Then if she fear, or be to blame,
- By this you shall not know;
- For still her cheeks possess the same
- Which native she doth owe.
- A dangerous rhyme, master, against the reason of white and red.
- ARMADO. Is there not a ballad, boy, of the King and the Beggar?
- MOTH. The world was very guilty of such a ballad some three ages
- since; but I think now 'tis not to be found; or if it were, it
- would neither serve for the writing nor the tune.
- ARMADO. I will have that subject newly writ o'er, that I may
- example my digression by some mighty precedent. Boy, I do love
- that country girl that I took in the park with the rational hind
- Costard; she deserves well.
- MOTH. [Aside] To be whipt; and yet a better love than my master.
- ARMADO. Sing, boy; my spirit grows heavy in love.
- MOTH. And that's great marvel, loving a light wench.
- ARMADO. I say, sing.
- MOTH. Forbear till this company be past.
-
- Enter DULL, COSTARD, and JAQUENETTA
-
- DULL. Sir, the Duke's pleasure is that you keep Costard safe; and
- you must suffer him to take no delight nor no penance; but 'a
- must fast three days a week. For this damsel, I must keep her at
- the park; she is allow'd for the day-woman. Fare you well.
- ARMADO. I do betray myself with blushing. Maid!
- JAQUENETTA. Man!
- ARMADO. I will visit thee at the lodge.
- JAQUENETTA. That's hereby.
- ARMADO. I know where it is situate.
- JAQUENETTA. Lord, how wise you are!
- ARMADO. I will tell thee wonders.
- JAQUENETTA. With that face?
- ARMADO. I love thee.
- JAQUENETTA. So I heard you say.
- ARMADO. And so, farewell.
- JAQUENETTA. Fair weather after you!
- DULL. Come, Jaquenetta, away. Exit with JAQUENETTA
- ARMADO. Villain, thou shalt fast for thy offences ere thou be
- pardoned.
- COSTARD. Well, sir, I hope when I do it I shall do it on a full
- stomach.
- ARMADO. Thou shalt be heavily punished.
- COSTARD. I am more bound to you than your fellows, for they are but
- lightly rewarded.
- ARMADO. Take away this villain; shut him up.
- MOTH. Come, you transgressing slave, away.
- COSTARD. Let me not be pent up, sir; I will fast, being loose.
- MOTH. No, sir; that were fast, and loose. Thou shalt to prison.
- COSTARD. Well, if ever I do see the merry days of desolation that I
- have seen, some shall see.
- MOTH. What shall some see?
- COSTARD. Nay, nothing, Master Moth, but what they look upon. It is
- not for prisoners to be too silent in their words, and therefore
- I will say nothing. I thank God I have as little patience as
- another man, and therefore I can be quiet.
- Exeunt MOTH and COSTARD
- ARMADO. I do affect the very ground, which is base, where her shoe,
- which is baser, guided by her foot, which is basest, doth tread.
- I shall be forsworn- which is a great argument of falsehood- if I
- love. And how can that be true love which is falsely attempted?
- Love is a familiar; Love is a devil. There is no evil angel but
- Love. Yet was Samson so tempted, and he had an excellent
- strength; yet was Solomon so seduced, and he had a very good wit.
- Cupid's butt-shaft is too hard for Hercules' club, and therefore
- too much odds for a Spaniard's rapier. The first and second cause
- will not serve my turn; the passado he respects not, the duello
- he regards not; his disgrace is to be called boy, but his glory
- is to subdue men. Adieu, valour; rust, rapier; be still, drum;
- for your manager is in love; yea, he loveth. Assist me, some
- extemporal god of rhyme, for I am sure I shall turn sonnet.
- Devise, wit; write, pen; for I am for whole volumes in folio.
- Exit
-
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-ACT II. SCENE II.
-The park
-
-Enter the PRINCESS OF FRANCE, with three attending ladies,
-ROSALINE, MARIA, KATHARINE, BOYET, and two other LORDS
-
- BOYET. Now, madam, summon up your dearest spirits.
- Consider who the King your father sends,
- To whom he sends, and what's his embassy:
- Yourself, held precious in the world's esteem,
- To parley with the sole inheritor
- Of all perfections that a man may owe,
- Matchless Navarre; the plea of no less weight
- Than Aquitaine, a dowry for a queen.
- Be now as prodigal of all dear grace
- As Nature was in making graces dear,
- When she did starve the general world beside
- And prodigally gave them all to you.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Good Lord Boyet, my beauty, though but mean,
- Needs not the painted flourish of your praise.
- Beauty is bought by judgment of the eye,
- Not utt'red by base sale of chapmen's tongues;
- I am less proud to hear you tell my worth
- Than you much willing to be counted wise
- In spending your wit in the praise of mine.
- But now to task the tasker: good Boyet,
- You are not ignorant all-telling fame
- Doth noise abroad Navarre hath made a vow,
- Till painful study shall outwear three years,
- No woman may approach his silent court.
- Therefore to's seemeth it a needful course,
- Before we enter his forbidden gates,
- To know his pleasure; and in that behalf,
- Bold of your worthiness, we single you
- As our best-moving fair solicitor.
- Tell him the daughter of the King of France,
- On serious business, craving quick dispatch,
- Importunes personal conference with his Grace.
- Haste, signify so much; while we attend,
- Like humble-visag'd suitors, his high will.
- BOYET. Proud of employment, willingly I go.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. All pride is willing pride, and yours is so.
- Exit BOYET
- Who are the votaries, my loving lords,
- That are vow-fellows with this virtuous duke?
- FIRST LORD. Lord Longaville is one.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Know you the man?
- MARIA. I know him, madam; at a marriage feast,
- Between Lord Perigort and the beauteous heir
- Of Jaques Falconbridge, solemnized
- In Normandy, saw I this Longaville.
- A man of sovereign parts, peerless esteem'd,
- Well fitted in arts, glorious in arms;
- Nothing becomes him ill that he would well.
- The only soil of his fair virtue's gloss,
- If virtue's gloss will stain with any soil,
- Is a sharp wit match'd with too blunt a will,
- Whose edge hath power to cut, whose will still wills
- It should none spare that come within his power.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Some merry mocking lord, belike; is't so?
- MARIA. They say so most that most his humours know.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Such short-liv'd wits do wither as they grow.
- Who are the rest?
- KATHARINE. The young Dumain, a well-accomplish'd youth,
- Of all that virtue love for virtue loved;
- Most power to do most harm, least knowing ill,
- For he hath wit to make an ill shape good,
- And shape to win grace though he had no wit.
- I saw him at the Duke Alencon's once;
- And much too little of that good I saw
- Is my report to his great worthiness.
- ROSALINE. Another of these students at that time
- Was there with him, if I have heard a truth.
- Berowne they call him; but a merrier man,
- Within the limit of becoming mirth,
- I never spent an hour's talk withal.
- His eye begets occasion for his wit,
- For every object that the one doth catch
- The other turns to a mirth-moving jest,
- Which his fair tongue, conceit's expositor,
- Delivers in such apt and gracious words
- That aged ears play truant at his tales,
- And younger hearings are quite ravished;
- So sweet and voluble is his discourse.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. God bless my ladies! Are they all in love,
- That every one her own hath garnished
- With such bedecking ornaments of praise?
- FIRST LORD. Here comes Boyet.
-
- Re-enter BOYET
-
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Now, what admittance, lord?
- BOYET. Navarre had notice of your fair approach,
- And he and his competitors in oath
- Were all address'd to meet you, gentle lady,
- Before I came. Marry, thus much I have learnt:
- He rather means to lodge you in the field,
- Like one that comes here to besiege his court,
- Than seek a dispensation for his oath,
- To let you enter his unpeopled house.
- [The LADIES-IN-WAITING mask]
-
- Enter KING, LONGAVILLE, DUMAIN, BEROWNE,
- and ATTENDANTS
-
- Here comes Navarre.
- KING. Fair Princess, welcome to the court of Navarre.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. 'Fair' I give you back again; and 'welcome' I
- have not yet. The roof of this court is too high to be yours, and
- welcome to the wide fields too base to be mine.
- KING. You shall be welcome, madam, to my court.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. I will be welcome then; conduct me thither.
- KING. Hear me, dear lady: I have sworn an oath-
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Our Lady help my lord! He'll be forsworn.
- KING. Not for the world, fair madam, by my will.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Why, will shall break it; will, and nothing
- else.
- KING. Your ladyship is ignorant what it is.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Were my lord so, his ignorance were wise,
- Where now his knowledge must prove ignorance.
- I hear your Grace hath sworn out house-keeping.
- 'Tis deadly sin to keep that oath, my lord,
- And sin to break it.
- But pardon me, I am too sudden bold;
- To teach a teacher ill beseemeth me.
- Vouchsafe to read the purpose of my coming,
- And suddenly resolve me in my suit. [Giving a paper]
- KING. Madam, I will, if suddenly I may.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. YOU Will the sooner that I were away,
- For you'll prove perjur'd if you make me stay.
- BEROWNE. Did not I dance with you in Brabant once?
- KATHARINE. Did not I dance with you in Brabant once?
- BEROWNE. I know you did.
- KATHARINE. How needless was it then to ask the question!
- BEROWNE. You must not be so quick.
- KATHARINE. 'Tis long of you, that spur me with such questions.
- BEROWNE. Your wit 's too hot, it speeds too fast, 'twill tire.
- KATHARINE. Not till it leave the rider in the mire.
- BEROWNE. What time o' day?
- KATHARINE. The hour that fools should ask.
- BEROWNE. Now fair befall your mask!
- KATHARINE. Fair fall the face it covers!
- BEROWNE. And send you many lovers!
- KATHARINE. Amen, so you be none.
- BEROWNE. Nay, then will I be gone.
- KING. Madam, your father here doth intimate
- The payment of a hundred thousand crowns;
- Being but the one half of an entire sum
- Disbursed by my father in his wars.
- But say that he or we, as neither have,
- Receiv'd that sum, yet there remains unpaid
- A hundred thousand more, in surety of the which,
- One part of Aquitaine is bound to us,
- Although not valued to the money's worth.
- If then the King your father will restore
- But that one half which is unsatisfied,
- We will give up our right in Aquitaine,
- And hold fair friendship with his Majesty.
- But that, it seems, he little purposeth,
- For here he doth demand to have repaid
- A hundred thousand crowns; and not demands,
- On payment of a hundred thousand crowns,
- To have his title live in Aquitaine;
- Which we much rather had depart withal,
- And have the money by our father lent,
- Than Aquitaine so gelded as it is.
- Dear Princess, were not his requests so far
- From reason's yielding, your fair self should make
- A yielding 'gainst some reason in my breast,
- And go well satisfied to France again.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. You do the King my father too much wrong,
- And wrong the reputation of your name,
- In so unseeming to confess receipt
- Of that which hath so faithfully been paid.
- KING. I do protest I never heard of it;
- And, if you prove it, I'll repay it back
- Or yield up Aquitaine.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. We arrest your word.
- Boyet, you can produce acquittances
- For such a sum from special officers
- Of Charles his father.
- KING. Satisfy me so.
- BOYET. So please your Grace, the packet is not come,
- Where that and other specialties are bound;
- To-morrow you shall have a sight of them.
- KING. It shall suffice me; at which interview
- All liberal reason I will yield unto.
- Meantime receive such welcome at my hand
- As honour, without breach of honour, may
- Make tender of to thy true worthiness.
- You may not come, fair Princess, within my gates;
- But here without you shall be so receiv'd
- As you shall deem yourself lodg'd in my heart,
- Though so denied fair harbour in my house.
- Your own good thoughts excuse me, and farewell.
- To-morrow shall we visit you again.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Sweet health and fair desires consort your
- Grace!
- KING. Thy own wish wish I thee in every place.
- Exit with attendants
- BEROWNE. Lady, I will commend you to mine own heart.
- ROSALINE. Pray you, do my commendations;
- I would be glad to see it.
- BEROWNE. I would you heard it groan.
- ROSALINE. Is the fool sick?
- BEROWNE. Sick at the heart.
- ROSALINE. Alack, let it blood.
- BEROWNE. Would that do it good?
- ROSALINE. My physic says 'ay.'
- BEROWNE. Will YOU prick't with your eye?
- ROSALINE. No point, with my knife.
- BEROWNE. Now, God save thy life!
- ROSALINE. And yours from long living!
- BEROWNE. I cannot stay thanksgiving. [Retiring]
- DUMAIN. Sir, I pray you, a word: what lady is that same?
- BOYET. The heir of Alencon, Katharine her name.
- DUMAIN. A gallant lady! Monsieur, fare you well. Exit
- LONGAVILLE. I beseech you a word: what is she in the white?
- BOYET. A woman sometimes, an you saw her in the light.
- LONGAVILLE. Perchance light in the light. I desire her name.
- BOYET. She hath but one for herself; to desire that were a shame.
- LONGAVILLE. Pray you, sir, whose daughter?
- BOYET. Her mother's, I have heard.
- LONGAVILLE. God's blessing on your beard!
- BOYET. Good sir, be not offended;
- She is an heir of Falconbridge.
- LONGAVILLE. Nay, my choler is ended.
- She is a most sweet lady.
- BOYET. Not unlike, sir; that may be. Exit LONGAVILLE
- BEROWNE. What's her name in the cap?
- BOYET. Rosaline, by good hap.
- BEROWNE. Is she wedded or no?
- BOYET. To her will, sir, or so.
- BEROWNE. You are welcome, sir; adieu!
- BOYET. Farewell to me, sir, and welcome to you.
- Exit BEROWNE. LADIES Unmask
- MARIA. That last is Berowne, the merry mad-cap lord;
- Not a word with him but a jest.
- BOYET. And every jest but a word.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. It was well done of you to take him at his
- word.
- BOYET. I was as willing to grapple as he was to board.
- KATHARINE. Two hot sheeps, marry!
- BOYET. And wherefore not ships?
- No sheep, sweet lamb, unless we feed on your lips.
- KATHARINE. You sheep and I pasture- shall that finish the jest?
- BOYET. So you grant pasture for me. [Offering to kiss her]
- KATHARINE. Not so, gentle beast;
- My lips are no common, though several they be.
- BOYET. Belonging to whom?
- KATHARINE. To my fortunes and me.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Good wits will be jangling; but, gentles,
- agree;
- This civil war of wits were much better used
- On Navarre and his book-men, for here 'tis abused.
- BOYET. If my observation, which very seldom lies,
- By the heart's still rhetoric disclosed with eyes,
- Deceive me not now, Navarre is infected.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. With what?
- BOYET. With that which we lovers entitle 'affected.'
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Your reason?
- BOYET. Why, all his behaviours did make their retire
- To the court of his eye, peeping thorough desire.
- His heart, like an agate, with your print impressed,
- Proud with his form, in his eye pride expressed;
- His tongue, all impatient to speak and not see,
- Did stumble with haste in his eyesight to be;
- All senses to that sense did make their repair,
- To feel only looking on fairest of fair.
- Methought all his senses were lock'd in his eye,
- As jewels in crystal for some prince to buy;
- Who, tend'ring their own worth from where they were glass'd,
- Did point you to buy them, along as you pass'd.
- His face's own margent did quote such amazes
- That all eyes saw his eyes enchanted with gazes.
- I'll give you Aquitaine and all that is his,
- An you give him for my sake but one loving kiss.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Come, to our pavilion. Boyet is dispos'd.
- BOYET. But to speak that in words which his eye hath disclos'd;
- I only have made a mouth of his eye,
- By adding a tongue which I know will not lie.
- MARIA. Thou art an old love-monger, and speakest skilfully.
- KATHARINE. He is Cupid's grandfather, and learns news of him.
- ROSALINE. Then was Venus like her mother; for her father is but
- grim.
- BOYET. Do you hear, my mad wenches?
- MARIA. No.
- BOYET. What, then; do you see?
- MARIA. Ay, our way to be gone.
- BOYET. You are too hard for me. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-ACT III. SCENE I.
-The park
-
-Enter ARMADO and MOTH
-
- ARMADO. Warble, child; make passionate my sense of hearing.
- [MOTH sings Concolinel]
- ARMADO. Sweet air! Go, tenderness of years, take this key, give
- enlargement to the swain, bring him festinately hither; I must
- employ him in a letter to my love.
- MOTH. Master, will you win your love with a French brawl?
- ARMADO. How meanest thou? Brawling in French?
- MOTH. No, my complete master; but to jig off a tune at the tongue's
- end, canary to it with your feet, humour it with turning up your
- eyelids, sigh a note and sing a note, sometime through the
- throat, as if you swallowed love with singing love, sometime
- through the nose, as if you snuff'd up love by smelling love,
- with your hat penthouse-like o'er the shop of your eyes, with
- your arms cross'd on your thin-belly doublet, like a rabbit on a
- spit, or your hands in your pocket, like a man after the old
- painting; and keep not too long in one tune, but a snip and away.
- These are complements, these are humours; these betray nice
- wenches, that would be betrayed without these; and make them men
- of note- do you note me?- that most are affected to these.
- ARMADO. How hast thou purchased this experience?
- MOTH. By my penny of observation.
- ARMADO. But O- but O-
- MOTH. The hobby-horse is forgot.
- ARMADO. Call'st thou my love 'hobby-horse'?
- MOTH. No, master; the hobby-horse is but a colt, and your love
- perhaps a hackney. But have you forgot your love?
- ARMADO. Almost I had.
- MOTH. Negligent student! learn her by heart.
- ARMADO. By heart and in heart, boy.
- MOTH. And out of heart, master; all those three I will prove.
- ARMADO. What wilt thou prove?
- MOTH. A man, if I live; and this, by, in, and without, upon the
- instant. By heart you love her, because your heart cannot come by
- her; in heart you love her, because your heart is in love with
- her; and out of heart you love her, being out of heart that you
- cannot enjoy her.
- ARMADO. I am all these three.
- MOTH. And three times as much more, and yet nothing at all.
- ARMADO. Fetch hither the swain; he must carry me a letter.
- MOTH. A message well sympathiz'd- a horse to be ambassador for an
- ass.
- ARMADO. Ha, ha, what sayest thou?
- MOTH. Marry, sir, you must send the ass upon the horse, for he is
- very slow-gaited. But I go.
- ARMADO. The way is but short; away.
- MOTH. As swift as lead, sir.
- ARMADO. The meaning, pretty ingenious?
- Is not lead a metal heavy, dull, and slow?
- MOTH. Minime, honest master; or rather, master, no.
- ARMADO. I say lead is slow.
- MOTH. You are too swift, sir, to say so:
- Is that lead slow which is fir'd from a gun?
- ARMADO. Sweet smoke of rhetoric!
- He reputes me a cannon; and the bullet, that's he;
- I shoot thee at the swain.
- MOTH. Thump, then, and I flee. Exit
- ARMADO. A most acute juvenal; volable and free of grace!
- By thy favour, sweet welkin, I must sigh in thy face;
- Most rude melancholy, valour gives thee place.
- My herald is return'd.
-
- Re-enter MOTH with COSTARD
-
- MOTH. A wonder, master! here's a costard broken in a shin.
- ARMADO. Some enigma, some riddle; come, thy l'envoy; begin.
- COSTARD. No egma, no riddle, no l'envoy; no salve in the mail, sir.
- O, sir, plantain, a plain plantain; no l'envoy, no l'envoy; no
- salve, sir, but a plantain!
- ARMADO. By virtue thou enforcest laughter; thy silly thought, my
- spleen; the heaving of my lungs provokes me to ridiculous
- smiling. O, pardon me, my stars! Doth the inconsiderate take
- salve for l'envoy, and the word 'l'envoy' for a salve?
- MOTH. Do the wise think them other? Is not l'envoy a salve?
- ARMADO. No, page; it is an epilogue or discourse to make plain
- Some obscure precedence that hath tofore been sain.
- I will example it:
- The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee,
- Were still at odds, being but three.
- There's the moral. Now the l'envoy.
- MOTH. I will add the l'envoy. Say the moral again.
- ARMADO. The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee,
- Were still at odds, being but three.
- MOTH. Until the goose came out of door,
- And stay'd the odds by adding four.
- Now will I begin your moral, and do you follow with my l'envoy.
- The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee,
- Were still at odds, being but three.
- ARMADO. Until the goose came out of door,
- Staying the odds by adding four.
- MOTH. A good l'envoy, ending in the goose; would you desire more?
- COSTARD. The boy hath sold him a bargain, a goose, that's flat.
- Sir, your pennyworth is good, an your goose be fat.
- To sell a bargain well is as cunning as fast and loose;
- Let me see: a fat l'envoy; ay, that's a fat goose.
- ARMADO. Come hither, come hither. How did this argument begin?
- MOTH. By saying that a costard was broken in a shin.
- Then call'd you for the l'envoy.
- COSTARD. True, and I for a plantain. Thus came your argument in;
- Then the boy's fat l'envoy, the goose that you bought;
- And he ended the market.
- ARMADO. But tell me: how was there a costard broken in a shin?
- MOTH. I will tell you sensibly.
- COSTARD. Thou hast no feeling of it, Moth; I will speak that
- l'envoy.
- I, Costard, running out, that was safely within,
- Fell over the threshold and broke my shin.
- ARMADO. We will talk no more of this matter.
- COSTARD. Till there be more matter in the shin.
- ARMADO. Sirrah Costard. I will enfranchise thee.
- COSTARD. O, Marry me to one Frances! I smell some l'envoy, some
- goose, in this.
- ARMADO. By my sweet soul, I mean setting thee at liberty,
- enfreedoming thy person; thou wert immured, restrained,
- captivated, bound.
- COSTARD. True, true; and now you will be my purgation, and let me
- loose.
- ARMADO. I give thee thy liberty, set thee from durance; and, in
- lieu thereof, impose on thee nothing but this: bear this
- significant [giving a letter] to the country maid Jaquenetta;
- there is remuneration, for the best ward of mine honour is
- rewarding my dependents. Moth, follow. Exit
- MOTH. Like the sequel, I. Signior Costard, adieu.
- COSTARD. My sweet ounce of man's flesh, my incony Jew!
- Exit MOTH
- Now will I look to his remuneration. Remuneration! O, that's the
- Latin word for three farthings. Three farthings- remuneration.
- 'What's the price of this inkle?'- 'One penny.'- 'No, I'll give
- you a remuneration.' Why, it carries it. Remuneration! Why, it is
- a fairer name than French crown. I will never buy and sell out of
- this word.
-
- Enter BEROWNE
-
- BEROWNE. My good knave Costard, exceedingly well met!
- COSTARD. Pray you, sir, how much carnation ribbon may a man buy for
- a remuneration?
- BEROWNE. What is a remuneration?
- COSTARD. Marry, sir, halfpenny farthing.
- BEROWNE. Why, then, three-farthing worth of silk.
- COSTARD. I thank your worship. God be wi' you!
- BEROWNE. Stay, slave; I must employ thee.
- As thou wilt win my favour, good my knave,
- Do one thing for me that I shall entreat.
- COSTARD. When would you have it done, sir?
- BEROWNE. This afternoon.
- COSTARD. Well, I will do it, sir; fare you well.
- BEROWNE. Thou knowest not what it is.
- COSTARD. I shall know, sir, when I have done it.
- BEROWNE. Why, villain, thou must know first.
- COSTARD. I will come to your worship to-morrow morning.
- BEROWNE. It must be done this afternoon.
- Hark, slave, it is but this:
- The Princess comes to hunt here in the park,
- And in her train there is a gentle lady;
- When tongues speak sweetly, then they name her name,
- And Rosaline they call her. Ask for her,
- And to her white hand see thou do commend
- This seal'd-up counsel. There's thy guerdon; go.
- [Giving him a shilling]
- COSTARD. Gardon, O sweet gardon! better than remuneration; a
- 'leven-pence farthing better; most sweet gardon! I will do it,
- sir, in print. Gardon- remuneration! Exit
- BEROWNE. And I, forsooth, in love; I, that have been love's whip;
- A very beadle to a humorous sigh;
- A critic, nay, a night-watch constable;
- A domineering pedant o'er the boy,
- Than whom no mortal so magnificent!
- This wimpled, whining, purblind, wayward boy,
- This senior-junior, giant-dwarf, Dan Cupid;
- Regent of love-rhymes, lord of folded arms,
- Th' anointed sovereign of sighs and groans,
- Liege of all loiterers and malcontents,
- Dread prince of plackets, king of codpieces,
- Sole imperator, and great general
- Of trotting paritors. O my little heart!
- And I to be a corporal of his field,
- And wear his colours like a tumbler's hoop!
- What! I love, I sue, I seek a wife-
- A woman, that is like a German clock,
- Still a-repairing, ever out of frame,
- And never going aright, being a watch,
- But being watch'd that it may still go right!
- Nay, to be perjur'd, which is worst of all;
- And, among three, to love the worst of all,
- A whitely wanton with a velvet brow,
- With two pitch balls stuck in her face for eyes;
- Ay, and, by heaven, one that will do the deed,
- Though Argus were her eunuch and her guard.
- And I to sigh for her! to watch for her!
- To pray for her! Go to; it is a plague
- That Cupid will impose for my neglect
- Of his almighty dreadful little might.
- Well, I will love, write, sigh, pray, sue, and groan:
- Some men must love my lady, and some Joan. Exit
-
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
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-ACT IV. SCENE I.
-The park
-
-Enter the PRINCESS, ROSALINE, MARIA, KATHARINE, BOYET, LORDS, ATTENDANTS,
-and a FORESTER
-
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Was that the King that spurr'd his horse so
- hard
- Against the steep uprising of the hill?
- BOYET. I know not; but I think it was not he.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Whoe'er 'a was, 'a show'd a mounting mind.
- Well, lords, to-day we shall have our dispatch;
- On Saturday we will return to France.
- Then, forester, my friend, where is the bush
- That we must stand and play the murderer in?
- FORESTER. Hereby, upon the edge of yonder coppice;
- A stand where you may make the fairest shoot.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. I thank my beauty I am fair that shoot,
- And thereupon thou speak'st the fairest shoot.
- FORESTER. Pardon me, madam, for I meant not so.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. What, what? First praise me, and again say no?
- O short-liv'd pride! Not fair? Alack for woe!
- FORESTER. Yes, madam, fair.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Nay, never paint me now;
- Where fair is not, praise cannot mend the brow.
- Here, good my glass, take this for telling true:
- [ Giving him money]
- Fair payment for foul words is more than due.
- FORESTER. Nothing but fair is that which you inherit.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. See, see, my beauty will be sav'd by merit.
- O heresy in fair, fit for these days!
- A giving hand, though foul, shall have fair praise.
- But come, the bow. Now mercy goes to kill,
- And shooting well is then accounted ill;
- Thus will I save my credit in the shoot:
- Not wounding, pity would not let me do't;
- If wounding, then it was to show my skill,
- That more for praise than purpose meant to kill.
- And, out of question, so it is sometimes:
- Glory grows guilty of detested crimes,
- When, for fame's sake, for praise, an outward part,
- We bend to that the working of the heart;
- As I for praise alone now seek to spill
- The poor deer's blood that my heart means no ill.
- BOYET. Do not curst wives hold that self-sovereignty
- Only for praise sake, when they strive to be
- Lords o'er their lords?
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Only for praise; and praise we may afford
- To any lady that subdues a lord.
-
- Enter COSTARD
-
- BOYET. Here comes a member of the commonwealth.
- COSTARD. God dig-you-den all! Pray you, which is the head lady?
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Thou shalt know her, fellow, by the rest that
- have no heads.
- COSTARD. Which is the greatest lady, the highest?
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. The thickest and the tallest.
- COSTARD. The thickest and the tallest! It is so; truth is truth.
- An your waist, mistress, were as slender as my wit,
- One o' these maids' girdles for your waist should be fit.
- Are not you the chief woman? You are the thickest here.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. What's your will, sir? What's your will?
- COSTARD. I have a letter from Monsieur Berowne to one
- Lady Rosaline.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. O, thy letter, thy letter! He's a good friend
- of mine.
- Stand aside, good bearer. Boyet, you can carve.
- Break up this capon.
- BOYET. I am bound to serve.
- This letter is mistook; it importeth none here.
- It is writ to Jaquenetta.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. We will read it, I swear.
- Break the neck of the wax, and every one give ear.
- BOYET. [Reads] 'By heaven, that thou art fair is most infallible;
- true that thou art beauteous; truth itself that thou art lovely.
- More fairer than fair, beautiful than beauteous, truer than truth
- itself, have commiseration on thy heroical vassal. The
- magnanimous and most illustrate king Cophetua set eye upon the
- pernicious and indubitate beggar Zenelophon; and he it was that
- might rightly say, 'Veni, vidi, vici'; which to annothanize in
- the vulgar,- O base and obscure vulgar!- videlicet, He came, saw,
- and overcame. He came, one; saw, two; overcame, three. Who came?-
- the king. Why did he come?- to see. Why did he see?-to overcome.
- To whom came he?- to the beggar. What saw he?- the beggar. Who
- overcame he?- the beggar. The conclusion is victory; on whose
- side?- the king's. The captive is enrich'd; on whose side?- the
- beggar's. The catastrophe is a nuptial; on whose side?- the
- king's. No, on both in one, or one in both. I am the king, for so
- stands the comparison; thou the beggar, for so witnesseth thy
- lowliness. Shall I command thy love? I may. Shall I enforce thy
- love? I could. Shall I entreat thy love? I will. What shalt thou
- exchange for rags?- robes, for tittles?- titles, for thyself?
- -me. Thus expecting thy reply, I profane my lips on thy foot, my
- eyes on thy picture, and my heart on thy every part.
- Thine in the dearest design of industry,
- DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO.
-
- 'Thus dost thou hear the Nemean lion roar
- 'Gainst thee, thou lamb, that standest as his prey;
- Submissive fall his princely feet before,
- And he from forage will incline to play.
- But if thou strive, poor soul, what are thou then?
- Food for his rage, repasture for his den.'
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. What plume of feathers is he that indited this
- letter?
- What vane? What weathercock? Did you ever hear better?
- BOYET. I am much deceived but I remember the style.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Else your memory is bad, going o'er it
- erewhile.
- BOYET. This Armado is a Spaniard, that keeps here in court;
- A phantasime, a Monarcho, and one that makes sport
- To the Prince and his book-mates.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Thou fellow, a word.
- Who gave thee this letter?
- COSTARD. I told you: my lord.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. To whom shouldst thou give it?
- COSTARD. From my lord to my lady.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. From which lord to which lady?
- COSTARD. From my Lord Berowne, a good master of mine,
- To a lady of France that he call'd Rosaline.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Thou hast mistaken his letter. Come, lords,
- away.
- [To ROSALINE] Here, sweet, put up this; 'twill be thine another
- day. Exeunt PRINCESS and TRAIN
- BOYET. Who is the shooter? who is the shooter?
- ROSALINE. Shall I teach you to know?
- BOYET. Ay, my continent of beauty.
- ROSALINE. Why, she that bears the bow.
- Finely put off!
- BOYET. My lady goes to kill horns; but, if thou marry,
- Hang me by the neck, if horns that year miscarry.
- Finely put on!
- ROSALINE. Well then, I am the shooter.
- BOYET. And who is your deer?
- ROSALINE. If we choose by the horns, yourself come not near.
- Finely put on indeed!
- MARIA. You Still wrangle with her, Boyet, and she strikes at the
- brow.
- BOYET. But she herself is hit lower. Have I hit her now?
- ROSALINE. Shall I come upon thee with an old saying, that was a man
- when King Pepin of France was a little boy, as touching the hit
- it?
- BOYET. So I may answer thee with one as old, that was a woman when
- Queen Guinever of Britain was a little wench, as touching the hit
- it.
- ROSALINE. [Singing]
- Thou canst not hit it, hit it, hit it,
- Thou canst not hit it, my good man.
- BOYET. An I cannot, cannot, cannot,
- An I cannot, another can.
- Exeunt ROSALINE and KATHARINE
- COSTARD. By my troth, most pleasant! How both did fit it!
- MARIA. A mark marvellous well shot; for they both did hit it.
- BOYET. A mark! O, mark but that mark! A mark, says my lady!
- Let the mark have a prick in't, to mete at, if it may be.
- MARIA. Wide o' the bow-hand! I' faith, your hand is out.
- COSTARD. Indeed, 'a must shoot nearer, or he'll ne'er hit the
- clout.
- BOYET. An if my hand be out, then belike your hand is in.
- COSTARD. Then will she get the upshoot by cleaving the pin.
- MARIA. Come, come, you talk greasily; your lips grow foul.
- COSTARD. She's too hard for you at pricks, sir; challenge her to
- bowl.
- BOYET. I fear too much rubbing; good-night, my good owl.
- Exeunt BOYET and MARIA
- COSTARD. By my soul, a swain, a most simple clown!
- Lord, Lord! how the ladies and I have put him down!
- O' my troth, most sweet jests, most incony vulgar wit!
- When it comes so smoothly off, so obscenely, as it were, so fit.
- Armado a th' t'one side- O, a most dainty man!
- To see him walk before a lady and to bear her fan!
- To see him kiss his hand, and how most sweetly 'a will swear!
- And his page a t' other side, that handful of wit!
- Ah, heavens, it is a most pathetical nit!
- Sola, sola! Exit COSTARD
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-The park
-
-From the shooting within, enter HOLOFERNES, SIR NATHANIEL, and DULL
-
- NATHANIEL. Very reverent sport, truly; and done in the testimony of
- a good conscience.
- HOLOFERNES. The deer was, as you know, sanguis, in blood; ripe as
- the pomewater, who now hangeth like a jewel in the ear of caelo,
- the sky, the welkin, the heaven; and anon falleth like a crab on
- the face of terra, the soil, the land, the earth.
- NATHANIEL. Truly, Master Holofernes, the epithets are sweetly
- varied, like a scholar at the least; but, sir, I assure ye it was
- a buck of the first head.
- HOLOFERNES. Sir Nathaniel, haud credo.
- DULL. 'Twas not a haud credo; 'twas a pricket.
- HOLOFERNES. Most barbarous intimation! yet a kind of insinuation,
- as it were, in via, in way, of explication; facere, as it were,
- replication, or rather, ostentare, to show, as it were, his
- inclination, after his undressed, unpolished, uneducated,
- unpruned, untrained, or rather unlettered, or ratherest
- unconfirmed fashion, to insert again my haud credo for a deer.
- DULL. I Said the deer was not a haud credo; 'twas a pricket.
- HOLOFERNES. Twice-sod simplicity, bis coctus!
- O thou monster Ignorance, how deformed dost thou look!
- NATHANIEL. Sir, he hath never fed of the dainties that are bred in
- a book;
- He hath not eat paper, as it were; he hath not drunk ink; his
- intellect is not replenished; he is only an animal, only sensible
- in the duller parts;
- And such barren plants are set before us that we thankful should
- be-
- Which we of taste and feeling are- for those parts that do
- fructify in us more than he.
- For as it would ill become me to be vain, indiscreet, or a fool,
- So, were there a patch set on learning, to see him in a school.
- But, omne bene, say I, being of an old father's mind:
- Many can brook the weather that love not the wind.
- DULL. You two are book-men: can you tell me by your wit
- What was a month old at Cain's birth that's not five weeks old as
- yet?
- HOLOFERNES. Dictynna, goodman Dull; Dictynna, goodman Dull.
- DULL. What is Dictynna?
- NATHANIEL. A title to Phoebe, to Luna, to the moon.
- HOLOFERNES. The moon was a month old when Adam was no more,
- And raught not to five weeks when he came to five-score.
- Th' allusion holds in the exchange.
- DULL. 'Tis true, indeed; the collusion holds in the exchange.
- HOLOFERNES. God comfort thy capacity! I say th' allusion holds in
- the exchange.
- DULL. And I say the polusion holds in the exchange; for the moon is
- never but a month old; and I say, beside, that 'twas a pricket
- that the Princess kill'd.
- HOLOFERNES. Sir Nathaniel, will you hear an extemporal epitaph on
- the death of the deer? And, to humour the ignorant, call the deer
- the Princess kill'd a pricket.
- NATHANIEL. Perge, good Master Holofernes, perge, so it shall please
- you to abrogate scurrility.
- HOLOFERNES. I Will something affect the letter, for it argues
- facility.
-
- The preyful Princess pierc'd and prick'd a pretty pleasing
- pricket.
- Some say a sore; but not a sore till now made sore with shooting.
- The dogs did yell; put el to sore, then sorel jumps from thicket-
- Or pricket sore, or else sorel; the people fall a-hooting.
- If sore be sore, then L to sore makes fifty sores o' sorel.
- Of one sore I an hundred make by adding but one more L.
-
- NATHANIEL. A rare talent!
- DULL. [Aside] If a talent be a claw, look how he claws him with a
- talent.
- HOLOFERNES. This is a gift that I have, simple, simple; a foolish
- extravagant spirit, full of forms, figures, shapes, objects,
- ideas, apprehensions, motions, revolutions. These are begot in
- the ventricle of memory, nourish'd in the womb of pia mater, and
- delivered upon the mellowing of occasion. But the gift is good in
- those in whom it is acute, and I am thankful for it.
- NATHANIEL. Sir, I praise the Lord for you, and so may my
- parishioners; for their sons are well tutor'd by you, and their
- daughters profit very greatly under you. You are a good member of
- the commonwealth.
- HOLOFERNES. Mehercle, if their sons be ingenious, they shall want
- no instruction; if their daughters be capable, I will put it to
- them; but, vir sapit qui pauca loquitur. A soul feminine saluteth
- us.
-
- Enter JAQUENETTA and COSTARD
-
- JAQUENETTA. God give you good morrow, Master Person.
- HOLOFERNES. Master Person, quasi pers-one. And if one should be
- pierc'd which is the one?
- COSTARD. Marry, Master Schoolmaster, he that is likest to a
- hogshead.
- HOLOFERNES. Piercing a hogshead! A good lustre of conceit in a turf
- of earth; fire enough for a flint, pearl enough for a swine; 'tis
- pretty; it is well.
- JAQUENETTA. Good Master Parson, be so good as read me this letter;
- it was given me by Costard, and sent me from Don Armado. I
- beseech you read it.
- HOLOFERNES. Fauste, precor gelida quando pecus omne sub umbra
- Ruminat-
- and so forth. Ah, good old Mantuan! I may speak of thee as
- the traveller doth of Venice:
- Venetia, Venetia,
- Chi non ti vede, non ti pretia.
- Old Mantuan, old Mantuan! Who understandeth thee not,
- loves thee not-
- Ut, re, sol, la, mi, fa.
- Under pardon, sir, what are the contents? or rather as
- Horace says in his- What, my soul, verses?
- NATHANIEL. Ay, sir, and very learned.
- HOLOFERNES. Let me hear a staff, a stanze, a verse; lege, domine.
- NATHANIEL. [Reads] 'If love make me forsworn, how shall I swear to
- love?
- Ah, never faith could hold, if not to beauty vowed!
- Though to myself forsworn, to thee I'll faithful prove;
- Those thoughts to me were oaks, to thee like osiers bowed.
- Study his bias leaves, and makes his book thine eyes,
- Where all those pleasures live that art would comprehend.
- If knowledge be the mark, to know thee shall suffice;
- Well learned is that tongue that well can thee commend;
- All ignorant that soul that sees thee without wonder;
- Which is to me some praise that I thy parts admire.
- Thy eye Jove's lightning bears, thy voice his dreadful thunder,
- Which, not to anger bent, is music and sweet fire.
- Celestial as thou art, O, pardon love this wrong,
- That singes heaven's praise with such an earthly tongue.'
- HOLOFERNES. You find not the apostrophas, and so miss the accent:
- let me supervise the canzonet. Here are only numbers ratified;
- but, for the elegancy, facility, and golden cadence of poesy,
- caret. Ovidius Naso was the man. And why, indeed, 'Naso' but for
- smelling out the odoriferous flowers of fancy, the jerks of
- invention? Imitari is nothing: so doth the hound his master, the
- ape his keeper, the tired horse his rider. But, damosella virgin,
- was this directed to you?
- JAQUENETTA. Ay, sir, from one Monsieur Berowne, one of the strange
- queen's lords.
- HOLOFERNES. I will overglance the superscript: 'To the snow-white
- hand of the most beauteous Lady Rosaline.' I will look again on
- the intellect of the letter, for the nomination of the party
- writing to the person written unto: 'Your Ladyship's in all
- desired employment, Berowne.' Sir Nathaniel, this Berowne is one
- of the votaries with the King; and here he hath framed a letter
- to a sequent of the stranger queen's which accidentally, or by
- the way of progression, hath miscarried. Trip and go, my sweet;
- deliver this paper into the royal hand of the King; it may
- concern much. Stay not thy compliment; I forgive thy duty. Adieu.
- JAQUENETTA. Good Costard, go with me. Sir, God save your life!
- COSTARD. Have with thee, my girl.
- Exeunt COSTARD and JAQUENETTA
- NATHANIEL. Sir, you have done this in the fear of God, very
- religiously; and, as a certain father saith-
- HOLOFERNES. Sir, tell not me of the father; I do fear colourable
- colours. But to return to the verses: did they please you, Sir
- Nathaniel?
- NATHANIEL. Marvellous well for the pen.
- HOLOFERNES. I do dine to-day at the father's of a certain pupil of
- mine; where, if, before repast, it shall please you to gratify
- the table with a grace, I will, on my privilege I have with the
- parents of the foresaid child or pupil, undertake your ben
- venuto; where I will prove those verses to be very unlearned,
- neither savouring of poetry, wit, nor invention. I beseech your
- society.
- NATHANIEL. And thank you too; for society, saith the text, is the
- happiness of life.
- HOLOFERNES. And certes, the text most infallibly concludes it.
- [To DULL] Sir, I do invite you too; you shall not say me nay:
- pauca verba. Away; the gentles are at their game, and we will to
- our recreation. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-The park
-
-Enter BEROWNE, with a paper his band, alone
-
- BEROWNE. The King he is hunting the deer: I am coursing myself.
- They have pitch'd a toil: I am tolling in a pitch- pitch that
- defiles. Defile! a foul word. Well, 'set thee down, sorrow!' for
- so they say the fool said, and so say I, and I am the fool. Well
- proved, wit. By the Lord, this love is as mad as Ajax: it kills
- sheep; it kills me- I a sheep. Well proved again o' my side. I
- will not love; if I do, hang me. I' faith, I will not. O, but her
- eye! By this light, but for her eye, I would not love her- yes,
- for her two eyes. Well, I do nothing in the world but lie, and
- lie in my throat. By heaven, I do love; and it hath taught me to
- rhyme, and to be melancholy; and here is part of my rhyme, and
- here my melancholy. Well, she hath one o' my sonnets already; the
- clown bore it, the fool sent it, and the lady hath it: sweet
- clown, sweeter fool, sweetest lady! By the world, I would not
- care a pin if the other three were in. Here comes one with a
- paper; God give him grace to groan!
- [Climbs into a tree]
-
- Enter the KING, with a paper
-
- KING. Ay me!
- BEROWNE. Shot, by heaven! Proceed, sweet Cupid; thou hast thump'd
- him with thy bird-bolt under the left pap. In faith, secrets!
- KING. [Reads]
- 'So sweet a kiss the golden sun gives not
- To those fresh morning drops upon the rose,
- As thy eye-beams, when their fresh rays have smote
- The night of dew that on my cheeks down flows;
- Nor shines the silver moon one half so bright
- Through the transparent bosom of the deep,
- As doth thy face through tears of mine give light.
- Thou shin'st in every tear that I do weep;
- No drop but as a coach doth carry thee;
- So ridest thou triumphing in my woe.
- Do but behold the tears that swell in me,
- And they thy glory through my grief will show.
- But do not love thyself; then thou wilt keep
- My tears for glasses, and still make me weep.
- O queen of queens! how far dost thou excel
- No thought can think nor tongue of mortal tell.'
- How shall she know my griefs? I'll drop the paper-
- Sweet leaves, shade folly. Who is he comes here?
- [Steps aside]
-
- Enter LONGAVILLE, with a paper
-
- What, Longaville, and reading! Listen, car.
- BEROWNE. Now, in thy likeness, one more fool appear!
- LONGAVILLE. Ay me, I am forsworn!
- BEROWNE. Why, he comes in like a perjure, wearing papers.
- KING. In love, I hope; sweet fellowship in shame!
- BEROWNE. One drunkard loves another of the name.
- LONGAVILLE. Am I the first that have been perjur'd so?
- BEROWNE. I could put thee in comfort: not by two that I know;
- Thou makest the triumviry, the corner-cap of society,
- The shape of Love's Tyburn that hangs up simplicity.
- LONGAVILLE. I fear these stubborn lines lack power to move.
- O sweet Maria, empress of my love!
- These numbers will I tear, and write in prose.
- BEROWNE. O, rhymes are guards on wanton Cupid's hose:
- Disfigure not his slop.
- LONGAVILLE. This same shall go. [He reads the sonnet]
- 'Did not the heavenly rhetoric of thine eye,
- 'Gainst whom the world cannot hold argument,
- Persuade my heart to this false perjury?
- Vows for thee broke deserve not punishment.
- A woman I forswore; but I will prove,
- Thou being a goddess, I forswore not thee:
- My vow was earthly, thou a heavenly love;
- Thy grace being gain'd cures all disgrace in me.
- Vows are but breath, and breath a vapour is;
- Then thou, fair sun, which on my earth dost shine,
- Exhal'st this vapour-vow; in thee it is.
- If broken, then it is no fault of mine;
- If by me broke, what fool is not so wise
- To lose an oath to win a paradise?'
- BEROWNE. This is the liver-vein, which makes flesh a deity,
- A green goose a goddess- pure, pure idolatry.
- God amend us, God amend! We are much out o' th' way.
-
- Enter DUMAIN, with a paper
-
- LONGAVILLE. By whom shall I send this?- Company! Stay.
- [Steps aside]
- BEROWNE. 'All hid, all hid'- an old infant play.
- Like a demigod here sit I in the sky,
- And wretched fools' secrets heedfully o'er-eye.
- More sacks to the mill! O heavens, I have my wish!
- Dumain transformed! Four woodcocks in a dish!
- DUMAIN. O most divine Kate!
- BEROWNE. O most profane coxcomb!
- DUMAIN. By heaven, the wonder in a mortal eye!
- BEROWNE. By earth, she is not, corporal: there you lie.
- DUMAIN. Her amber hairs for foul hath amber quoted.
- BEROWNE. An amber-colour'd raven was well noted.
- DUMAIN. As upright as the cedar.
- BEROWNE. Stoop, I say;
- Her shoulder is with child.
- DUMAIN. As fair as day.
- BEROWNE. Ay, as some days; but then no sun must shine.
- DUMAIN. O that I had my wish!
- LONGAVILLE. And I had mine!
- KING. And I mine too,.good Lord!
- BEROWNE. Amen, so I had mine! Is not that a good word?
- DUMAIN. I would forget her; but a fever she
- Reigns in my blood, and will rememb'red be.
- BEROWNE. A fever in your blood? Why, then incision
- Would let her out in saucers. Sweet misprision!
- DUMAIN. Once more I'll read the ode that I have writ.
- BEROWNE. Once more I'll mark how love can vary wit.
- DUMAIN. [Reads]
- 'On a day-alack the day!-
- Love, whose month is ever May,
- Spied a blossom passing fair
- Playing in the wanton air.
- Through the velvet leaves the wind,
- All unseen, can passage find;
- That the lover, sick to death,
- Wish'd himself the heaven's breath.
- "Air," quoth he "thy cheeks may blow;
- Air, would I might triumph so!
- But, alack, my hand is sworn
- Ne'er to pluck thee from thy thorn;
- Vow, alack, for youth unmeet,
- Youth so apt to pluck a sweet.
- Do not call it sin in me
- That I am forsworn for thee;
- Thou for whom Jove would swear
- Juno but an Ethiope were;
- And deny himself for Jove,
- Turning mortal for thy love."'
- This will I send; and something else more plain
- That shall express my true love's fasting pain.
- O, would the King, Berowne and Longaville,
- Were lovers too! Ill, to example ill,
- Would from my forehead wipe a perjur'd note;
- For none offend where all alike do dote.
- LONGAVILLE. [Advancing] Dumain, thy love is far from charity,
- That in love's grief desir'st society;
- You may look pale, but I should blush, I know,
- To be o'erheard and taken napping so.
- KING. [Advancing] Come, sir, you blush; as his, your case is such.
- You chide at him, offending twice as much:
- You do not love Maria! Longaville
- Did never sonnet for her sake compile;
- Nor never lay his wreathed arms athwart
- His loving bosom, to keep down his heart.
- I have been closely shrouded in this bush,
- And mark'd you both, and for you both did blush.
- I heard your guilty rhymes, observ'd your fashion,
- Saw sighs reek from you, noted well your passion.
- 'Ay me!' says one. 'O Jove!' the other cries.
- One, her hairs were gold; crystal the other's eyes.
- [To LONGAVILLE] You would for paradise break faith and troth;
- [To Dumain] And Jove for your love would infringe an oath.
- What will Berowne say when that he shall hear
- Faith infringed which such zeal did swear?
- How will he scorn, how will he spend his wit!
- How will he triumph, leap, and laugh at it!
- For all the wealth that ever I did see,
- I would not have him know so much by me.
- BEROWNE. [Descending] Now step I forth to whip hypocrisy,
- Ah, good my liege, I pray thee pardon me.
- Good heart, what grace hast thou thus to reprove
- These worms for loving, that art most in love?
- Your eyes do make no coaches; in your tears
- There is no certain princess that appears;
- You'll not be perjur'd; 'tis a hateful thing;
- Tush, none but minstrels like of sonneting.
- But are you not ashamed? Nay, are you not,
- All three of you, to be thus much o'ershot?
- You found his mote; the King your mote did see;
- But I a beam do find in each of three.
- O, what a scene of fool'ry have I seen,
- Of sighs, of groans, of sorrow, and of teen!
- O, me, with what strict patience have I sat,
- To see a king transformed to a gnat!
- To see great Hercules whipping a gig,
- And profound Solomon to tune a jig,
- And Nestor play at push-pin with the boys,
- And critic Timon laugh at idle toys!
- Where lies thy grief, O, tell me, good Dumain?
- And, gentle Longaville, where lies thy pain?
- And where my liege's? All about the breast.
- A caudle, ho!
- KING. Too bitter is thy jest.
- Are we betrayed thus to thy over-view?
- BEROWNE. Not you by me, but I betrayed to you.
- I that am honest, I that hold it sin
- To break the vow I am engaged in;
- I am betrayed by keeping company
- With men like you, men of inconstancy.
- When shall you see me write a thing in rhyme?
- Or groan for Joan? or spend a minute's time
- In pruning me? When shall you hear that I
- Will praise a hand, a foot, a face, an eye,
- A gait, a state, a brow, a breast, a waist,
- A leg, a limb-
- KING. Soft! whither away so fast?
- A true man or a thief that gallops so?
- BEROWNE. I post from love; good lover, let me go.
-
- Enter JAQUENETTA and COSTARD
-
- JAQUENETTA. God bless the King!
- KING. What present hast thou there?
- COSTARD. Some certain treason.
- KING. What makes treason here?
- COSTARD. Nay, it makes nothing, sir.
- KING. If it mar nothing neither,
- The treason and you go in peace away together.
- JAQUENETTA. I beseech your Grace, let this letter be read;
- Our person misdoubts it: 'twas treason, he said.
- KING. Berowne, read it over. [BEROWNE reads the letter]
- Where hadst thou it?
- JAQUENETTA. Of Costard.
- KING. Where hadst thou it?
- COSTARD. Of Dun Adramadio, Dun Adramadio.
- [BEROWNE tears the letter]
- KING. How now! What is in you? Why dost thou tear it?
- BEROWNE. A toy, my liege, a toy! Your Grace needs not fear it.
- LONGAVILLE. It did move him to passion, and therefore let's hear
- it.
- DUMAIN. It is Berowne's writing, and here is his name.
- [Gathering up the pieces]
- BEROWNE. [ To COSTARD] Ah, you whoreson loggerhead, you were born
- to do me shame.
- Guilty, my lord, guilty! I confess, I confess.
- KING. What?
- BEROWNE. That you three fools lack'd me fool to make up the mess;
- He, he, and you- and you, my liege!- and I
- Are pick-purses in love, and we deserve to die.
- O, dismiss this audience, and I shall tell you more.
- DUMAIN. Now the number is even.
- BEROWNE. True, true, we are four.
- Will these turtles be gone?
- KING. Hence, sirs, away.
- COSTARD. Walk aside the true folk, and let the traitors stay.
- Exeunt COSTARD and JAQUENETTA
- BEROWNE. Sweet lords, sweet lovers, O, let us embrace!
- As true we are as flesh and blood can be.
- The sea will ebb and flow, heaven show his face;
- Young blood doth not obey an old decree.
- We cannot cross the cause why we were born,
- Therefore of all hands must we be forsworn.
- KING. What, did these rent lines show some love of thine?
- BEROWNE. 'Did they?' quoth you. Who sees the heavenly Rosaline
- That, like a rude and savage man of Inde
- At the first op'ning of the gorgeous east,
- Bows not his vassal head and, strucken blind,
- Kisses the base ground with obedient breast?
- What peremptory eagle-sighted eye
- Dares look upon the heaven of her brow
- That is not blinded by her majesty?
- KING. What zeal, what fury hath inspir'd thee now?
- My love, her mistress, is a gracious moon;
- She, an attending star, scarce seen a light.
- BEROWNE. My eyes are then no eyes, nor I Berowne.
- O, but for my love, day would turn to night!
- Of all complexions the cull'd sovereignty
- Do meet, as at a fair, in her fair cheek,
- Where several worthies make one dignity,
- Where nothing wants that want itself doth seek.
- Lend me the flourish of all gentle tongues-
- Fie, painted rhetoric! O, she needs it not!
- To things of sale a seller's praise belongs:
- She passes praise; then praise too short doth blot.
- A wither'd hermit, five-score winters worn,
- Might shake off fifty, looking in her eye.
- Beauty doth varnish age, as if new-born,
- And gives the crutch the cradle's infancy.
- O, 'tis the sun that maketh all things shine!
- KING. By heaven, thy love is black as ebony.
- BEROWNE. Is ebony like her? O wood divine!
- A wife of such wood were felicity.
- O, who can give an oath? Where is a book?
- That I may swear beauty doth beauty lack,
- If that she learn not of her eye to look.
- No face is fair that is not full so black.
- KING. O paradox! Black is the badge of hell,
- The hue of dungeons, and the school of night;
- And beauty's crest becomes the heavens well.
- BEROWNE. Devils soonest tempt, resembling spirits of light.
- O, if in black my lady's brows be deckt,
- It mourns that painting and usurping hair
- Should ravish doters with a false aspect;
- And therefore is she born to make black fair.
- Her favour turns the fashion of the days;
- For native blood is counted painting now;
- And therefore red that would avoid dispraise
- Paints itself black, to imitate her brow.
- DUMAIN. To look like her are chimney-sweepers black.
- LONGAVILLE. And since her time are colliers counted bright.
- KING. And Ethiopes of their sweet complexion crack.
- DUMAIN. Dark needs no candles now, for dark is light.
- BEROWNE. Your mistresses dare never come in rain
- For fear their colours should be wash'd away.
- KING. 'Twere good yours did; for, sir, to tell you plain,
- I'll find a fairer face not wash'd to-day.
- BEROWNE. I'll prove her fair, or talk till doomsday here.
- KING. No devil will fright thee then so much as she.
- DUMAIN. I never knew man hold vile stuff so dear.
- LONGAVILLE. Look, here's thy love: my foot and her face see.
- [Showing his shoe]
- BEROWNE. O, if the streets were paved with thine eyes,
- Her feet were much too dainty for such tread!
- DUMAIN. O vile! Then, as she goes, what upward lies
- The street should see as she walk'd overhead.
- KING. But what of this? Are we not all in love?
- BEROWNE. Nothing so sure; and thereby all forsworn.
- KING. Then leave this chat; and, good Berowne, now prove
- Our loving lawful, and our faith not torn.
- DUMAIN. Ay, marry, there; some flattery for this evil.
- LONGAVILLE. O, some authority how to proceed;
- Some tricks, some quillets, how to cheat the devil!
- DUMAIN. Some salve for perjury.
- BEROWNE. 'Tis more than need.
- Have at you, then, affection's men-at-arms.
- Consider what you first did swear unto:
- To fast, to study, and to see no woman-
- Flat treason 'gainst the kingly state of youth.
- Say, can you fast? Your stomachs are too young,
- And abstinence engenders maladies.
- And, where that you you have vow'd to study, lords,
- In that each of you have forsworn his book,
- Can you still dream, and pore, and thereon look?
- For when would you, my lord, or you, or you,
- Have found the ground of study's excellence
- Without the beauty of a woman's face?
- From women's eyes this doctrine I derive:
- They are the ground, the books, the academes,
- From whence doth spring the true Promethean fire.
- Why, universal plodding poisons up
- The nimble spirits in the arteries,
- As motion and long-during action tires
- The sinewy vigour of the traveller.
- Now, for not looking on a woman's face,
- You have in that forsworn the use of eyes,
- And study too, the causer of your vow;
- For where is author in the world
- Teaches such beauty as a woman's eye?
- Learning is but an adjunct to ourself,
- And where we are our learning likewise is;
- Then when ourselves we see in ladies' eyes,
- With ourselves.
- Do we not likewise see our learning there?
- O, we have made a vow to study, lords,
- And in that vow we have forsworn our books.
- For when would you, my liege, or you, or you,
- In leaden contemplation have found out
- Such fiery numbers as the prompting eyes
- Of beauty's tutors have enrich'd you with?
- Other slow arts entirely keep the brain;
- And therefore, finding barren practisers,
- Scarce show a harvest of their heavy toil;
- But love, first learned in a lady's eyes,
- Lives not alone immured in the brain,
- But with the motion of all elements
- Courses as swift as thought in every power,
- And gives to every power a double power,
- Above their functions and their offices.
- It adds a precious seeing to the eye:
- A lover's eyes will gaze an eagle blind.
- A lover's ear will hear the lowest sound,
- When the suspicious head of theft is stopp'd.
- Love's feeling is more soft and sensible
- Than are the tender horns of cockled snails:
- Love's tongue proves dainty Bacchus gross in taste.
- For valour, is not Love a Hercules,
- Still climbing trees in the Hesperides?
- Subtle as Sphinx; as sweet and musical
- As bright Apollo's lute, strung with his hair.
- And when Love speaks, the voice of all the gods
- Make heaven drowsy with the harmony.
- Never durst poet touch a pen to write
- Until his ink were temp'red with Love's sighs;
- O, then his lines would ravish savage ears,
- And plant in tyrants mild humility.
- From women's eyes this doctrine I derive.
- They sparkle still the right Promethean fire;
- They are the books, the arts, the academes,
- That show, contain, and nourish, all the world,
- Else none at all in aught proves excellent.
- Then fools you were these women to forswear;
- Or, keeping what is sworn, you will prove fools.
- For wisdom's sake, a word that all men love;
- Or for Love's sake, a word that loves all men;
- Or for men's sake, the authors of these women;
- Or women's sake, by whom we men are men-
- Let us once lose our oaths to find ourselves,
- Or else we lose ourselves to keep our oaths.
- It is religion to be thus forsworn;
- For charity itself fulfils the law,
- And who can sever love from charity?
- KING. Saint Cupid, then! and, soldiers, to the field!
- BEROWNE. Advance your standards, and upon them, lords;
- Pell-mell, down with them! be first advis'd,
- In conflict, that you get the sun of them.
- LONGAVILLE. Now to plain-dealing; lay these glozes by.
- Shall we resolve to woo these girls of France?
- KING. And win them too; therefore let us devise
- Some entertainment for them in their tents.
- BEROWNE. First, from the park let us conduct them thither;
- Then homeward every man attach the hand
- Of his fair mistress. In the afternoon
- We will with some strange pastime solace them,
- Such as the shortness of the time can shape;
- For revels, dances, masks, and merry hours,
- Forerun fair Love, strewing her way with flowers.
- KING. Away, away! No time shall be omitted
- That will betime, and may by us be fitted.
- BEROWNE. Allons! allons! Sow'd cockle reap'd no corn,
- And justice always whirls in equal measure.
- Light wenches may prove plagues to men forsworn;
- If so, our copper buys no better treasure. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT V. SCENE I.
-The park
-
-Enter HOLOFERNES, SIR NATHANIEL, and DULL
-
- HOLOFERNES. Satis quod sufficit.
- NATHANIEL. I praise God for you, sir. Your reasons at dinner have
- been sharp and sententious; pleasant without scurrility, witty
- without affection, audacious without impudency, learned without
- opinion, and strange without heresy. I did converse this quondam
- day with a companion of the King's who is intituled, nominated,
- or called, Don Adriano de Armado.
- HOLOFERNES. Novi hominem tanquam te. His humour is lofty, his
- discourse peremptory, his tongue filed, his eye ambitious, his
- gait majestical and his general behaviour vain, ridiculous, and
- thrasonical. He is too picked, too spruce, too affected, too odd,
- as it were, too peregrinate, as I may call it.
- NATHANIEL. A most singular and choice epithet.
- [Draws out his table-book]
- HOLOFERNES. He draweth out the thread of his verbosity finer than
- the staple of his argument. I abhor such fanatical phantasimes,
- such insociable and point-devise companions; such rackers of
- orthography, as to speak 'dout' fine, when he should say 'doubt';
- 'det' when he should pronounce 'debt'- d, e, b, t, not d, e, t.
- He clepeth a calf 'cauf,' half 'hauf'; neighbour vocatur
- 'nebour'; 'neigh' abbreviated 'ne.' This is abhominable- which he
- would call 'abbominable.' It insinuateth me of insanie: ne
- intelligis, domine? to make frantic, lunatic.
- NATHANIEL. Laus Deo, bone intelligo.
- HOLOFERNES. 'Bone'?- 'bone' for 'bene.' Priscian a little
- scratch'd; 'twill serve.
-
- Enter ARMADO, MOTH, and COSTARD
-
- NATHANIEL. Videsne quis venit?
- HOLOFERNES. Video, et gaudeo.
- ARMADO. [To MOTH] Chirrah!
- HOLOFERNES. Quare 'chirrah,' not 'sirrah'?
- ARMADO. Men of peace, well encount'red.
- HOLOFERNES. Most military sir, salutation.
- MOTH. [Aside to COSTARD] They have been at a great feast of
- languages and stol'n the scraps.
- COSTARD. O, they have liv'd long on the alms-basket of words. I
- marvel thy master hath not eaten thee for a word, for thou are
- not so long by the head as honorificabilitudinitatibus; thou art
- easier swallowed than a flap-dragon.
- MOTH. Peace! the peal begins.
- ARMADO. [To HOLOFERNES] Monsieur, are you not lett'red?
- MOTH. Yes, yes; he teaches boys the hornbook. What is a, b, spelt
- backward with the horn on his head?
- HOLOFERNES. Ba, pueritia, with a horn added.
- MOTH. Ba, most silly sheep with a horn. You hear his learning.
- HOLOFERNES. Quis, quis, thou consonant?
- MOTH. The third of the five vowels, if You repeat them; or the
- fifth, if I.
- HOLOFERNES. I will repeat them: a, e, I-
- MOTH. The sheep; the other two concludes it: o, U.
- ARMADO. Now, by the salt wave of the Mediterraneum, a sweet touch,
- a quick venue of wit- snip, snap, quick and home. It rejoiceth my
- intellect. True wit!
- MOTH. Offer'd by a child to an old man; which is wit-old.
- HOLOFERNES. What is the figure? What is the figure?
- MOTH. Horns.
- HOLOFERNES. Thou disputes like an infant; go whip thy gig.
- MOTH. Lend me your horn to make one, and I will whip about your
- infamy circum circa- a gig of a cuckold's horn.
- COSTARD. An I had but one penny in the world, thou shouldst have it
- to buy ginger-bread. Hold, there is the very remuneration I had
- of thy master, thou halfpenny purse of wit, thou pigeon-egg of
- discretion. O, an the heavens were so pleased that thou wert but
- my bastard, what a joyful father wouldst thou make me! Go to;
- thou hast it ad dunghill, at the fingers' ends, as they say.
- HOLOFERNES. O, I smell false Latin; 'dunghill' for unguem.
- ARMADO. Arts-man, preambulate; we will be singuled from the
- barbarous. Do you not educate youth at the charge-house on the
- top of the mountain?
- HOLOFERNES. Or mons, the hill.
- ARMADO. At your sweet pleasure, for the mountain.
- HOLOFERNES. I do, sans question.
- ARMADO. Sir, it is the King's most sweet pleasure and affection to
- congratulate the Princess at her pavilion, in the posteriors of
- this day; which the rude multitude call the afternoon.
- HOLOFERNES. The posterior of the day, most generous sir, is liable,
- congruent, and measurable, for the afternoon. The word is well
- cull'd, chose, sweet, and apt, I do assure you, sir, I do assure.
- ARMADO. Sir, the King is a noble gentleman, and my familiar, I do
- assure ye, very good friend. For what is inward between us, let
- it pass. I do beseech thee, remember thy courtesy. I beseech
- thee, apparel thy head. And among other importunate and most
- serious designs, and of great import indeed, too- but let that
- pass; for I must tell thee it will please his Grace, by the
- world, sometime to lean upon my poor shoulder, and with his royal
- finger thus dally with my excrement, with my mustachio; but,
- sweet heart, let that pass. By the world, I recount no fable:
- some certain special honours it pleaseth his greatness to impart
- to Armado, a soldier, a man of travel, that hath seen the world;
- but let that pass. The very all of all is- but, sweet heart, I do
- implore secrecy- that the King would have me present the
- Princess, sweet chuck, with some delightful ostentation, or show,
- or pageant, or antic, or firework. Now, understanding that the
- curate and your sweet self are good at such eruptions and sudden
- breaking-out of mirth, as it were, I have acquainted you withal,
- to the end to crave your assistance.
- HOLOFERNES. Sir, you shall present before her the Nine Worthies.
- Sir Nathaniel, as concerning some entertainment of time, some
- show in the posterior of this day, to be rend'red by our
- assistance, the King's command, and this most gallant,
- illustrate, and learned gentleman, before the Princess- I say
- none so fit as to present the Nine Worthies.
- NATHANIEL. Where will you find men worthy enough to present them?
- HOLOFERNES. Joshua, yourself; myself, Alexander; this gallant
- gentleman, Judas Maccabaeus; this swain, because of his great
- limb or joint, shall pass Pompey the Great; the page, Hercules.
- ARMADO. Pardon, sir; error: he is not quantity enough for that
- Worthy's thumb; he is not so big as the end of his club.
- HOLOFERNES. Shall I have audience? He shall present Hercules in
- minority: his enter and exit shall be strangling a snake; and I
- will have an apology for that purpose.
- MOTH. An excellent device! So, if any of the audience hiss, you may
- cry 'Well done, Hercules; now thou crushest the snake!' That is
- the way to make an offence gracious, though few have the grace to
- do it.
- ARMADO. For the rest of the Worthies?
- HOLOFERNES. I will play three myself.
- MOTH. Thrice-worthy gentleman!
- ARMADO. Shall I tell you a thing?
- HOLOFERNES. We attend.
- ARMADO. We will have, if this fadge not, an antic. I beseech you,
- follow.
- HOLOFERNES. Via, goodman Dull! Thou has spoken no word all this
- while.
- DULL. Nor understood none neither, sir.
- HOLOFERNES. Allons! we will employ thee.
- DULL. I'll make one in a dance, or so, or I will play
- On the tabor to the Worthies, and let them dance the hay.
- HOLOFERNES. Most dull, honest Dull! To our sport, away.
- Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-The park
-
-Enter the PRINCESS, MARIA, KATHARINE, and ROSALINE
-
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Sweet hearts, we shall be rich ere we depart,
- If fairings come thus plentifully in.
- A lady wall'd about with diamonds!
- Look you what I have from the loving King.
- ROSALINE. Madam, came nothing else along with that?
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Nothing but this! Yes, as much love in rhyme
- As would be cramm'd up in a sheet of paper
- Writ o' both sides the leaf, margent and all,
- That he was fain to seal on Cupid's name.
- ROSALINE. That was the way to make his godhead wax;
- For he hath been five thousand year a boy.
- KATHARINE. Ay, and a shrewd unhappy gallows too.
- ROSALINE. You'll ne'er be friends with him: 'a kill'd your sister.
- KATHARINE. He made her melancholy, sad, and heavy;
- And so she died. Had she been light, like you,
- Of such a merry, nimble, stirring spirit,
- She might 'a been a grandam ere she died.
- And so may you; for a light heart lives long.
- ROSALINE. What's your dark meaning, mouse, of this light word?
- KATHARINE. A light condition in a beauty dark.
- ROSALINE. We need more light to find your meaning out.
- KATHARINE. You'll mar the light by taking it in snuff;
- Therefore I'll darkly end the argument.
- ROSALINE. Look what you do, you do it still i' th' dark.
- KATHARINE. So do not you; for you are a light wench.
- ROSALINE. Indeed, I weigh not you; and therefore light.
- KATHARINE. You weigh me not? O, that's you care not for me.
- ROSALINE. Great reason; for 'past cure is still past care.'
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Well bandied both; a set of wit well play'd.
- But, Rosaline, you have a favour too?
- Who sent it? and what is it?
- ROSALINE. I would you knew.
- An if my face were but as fair as yours,
- My favour were as great: be witness this.
- Nay, I have verses too, I thank Berowne;
- The numbers true, and, were the numb'ring too,
- I were the fairest goddess on the ground.
- I am compar'd to twenty thousand fairs.
- O, he hath drawn my picture in his letter!
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Anything like?
- ROSALINE. Much in the letters; nothing in the praise.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Beauteous as ink- a good conclusion.
- KATHARINE. Fair as a text B in a copy-book.
- ROSALINE. Ware pencils, ho! Let me not die your debtor,
- My red dominical, my golden letter:
- O that your face were not so full of O's!
- KATHARINE. A pox of that jest! and I beshrew all shrows!
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. But, Katharine, what was sent to you from fair
- Dumain?
- KATHARINE. Madam, this glove.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Did he not send you twain?
- KATHARINE. Yes, madam; and, moreover,
- Some thousand verses of a faithful lover;
- A huge translation of hypocrisy,
- Vilely compil'd, profound simplicity.
- MARIA. This, and these pearl, to me sent Longaville;
- The letter is too long by half a mile.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. I think no less. Dost thou not wish in heart
- The chain were longer and the letter short?
- MARIA. Ay, or I would these hands might never part.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. We are wise girls to mock our lovers so.
- ROSALINE. They are worse fools to purchase mocking so.
- That same Berowne I'll torture ere I go.
- O that I knew he were but in by th' week!
- How I would make him fawn, and beg, and seek,
- And wait the season, and observe the times,
- And spend his prodigal wits in bootless rhymes,
- And shape his service wholly to my hests,
- And make him proud to make me proud that jests!
- So pertaunt-like would I o'ersway his state
- That he should be my fool, and I his fate.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. None are so surely caught, when they are
- catch'd,
- As wit turn'd fool; folly, in wisdom hatch'd,
- Hath wisdom's warrant and the help of school,
- And wit's own grace to grace a learned fool.
- ROSALINE. The blood of youth burns not with such excess
- As gravity's revolt to wantonness.
- MARIA. Folly in fools bears not so strong a note
- As fool'ry in the wise when wit doth dote,
- Since all the power thereof it doth apply
- To prove, by wit, worth in simplicity.
-
- Enter BOYET
-
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Here comes Boyet, and mirth is in his face.
- BOYET. O, I am stabb'd with laughter! Where's her Grace?
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Thy news, Boyet?
- BOYET. Prepare, madam, prepare!
- Arm, wenches, arm! Encounters mounted are
- Against your peace. Love doth approach disguis'd,
- Armed in arguments; you'll be surpris'd.
- Muster your wits; stand in your own defence;
- Or hide your heads like cowards, and fly hence.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Saint Dennis to Saint Cupid! What are they
- That charge their breath against us? Say, scout, say.
- BOYET. Under the cool shade of a sycamore
- I thought to close mine eyes some half an hour;
- When, lo, to interrupt my purpos'd rest,
- Toward that shade I might behold addrest
- The King and his companions; warily
- I stole into a neighbour thicket by,
- And overheard what you shall overhear-
- That, by and by, disguis'd they will be here.
- Their herald is a pretty knavish page,
- That well by heart hath conn'd his embassage.
- Action and accent did they teach him there:
- 'Thus must thou speak' and 'thus thy body bear,'
- And ever and anon they made a doubt
- Presence majestical would put him out;
- 'For' quoth the King 'an angel shalt thou see;
- Yet fear not thou, but speak audaciously.'
- The boy replied 'An angel is not evil;
- I should have fear'd her had she been a devil.'
- With that all laugh'd, and clapp'd him on the shoulder,
- Making the bold wag by their praises bolder.
- One rubb'd his elbow, thus, and fleer'd, and swore
- A better speech was never spoke before.
- Another with his finger and his thumb
- Cried 'Via! we will do't, come what will come.'
- The third he caper'd, and cried 'All goes well.'
- The fourth turn'd on the toe, and down he fell.
- With that they all did tumble on the ground,
- With such a zealous laughter, so profound,
- That in this spleen ridiculous appears,
- To check their folly, passion's solemn tears.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. But what, but what, come they to visit us?
- BOYET. They do, they do, and are apparell'd thus,
- Like Muscovites or Russians, as I guess.
- Their purpose is to parley, court, and dance;
- And every one his love-feat will advance
- Unto his several mistress; which they'll know
- By favours several which they did bestow.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. And will they so? The gallants shall be task'd,
- For, ladies, we will every one be mask'd;
- And not a man of them shall have the grace,
- Despite of suit, to see a lady's face.
- Hold, Rosaline, this favour thou shalt wear,
- And then the King will court thee for his dear;
- Hold, take thou this, my sweet, and give me thine,
- So shall Berowne take me for Rosaline.
- And change you favours too; so shall your loves
- Woo contrary, deceiv'd by these removes.
- ROSALINE. Come on, then, wear the favours most in sight.
- KATHARINE. But, in this changing, what is your intent?
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. The effect of my intent is to cross theirs.
- They do it but in mocking merriment,
- And mock for mock is only my intent.
- Their several counsels they unbosom shall
- To loves mistook, and so be mock'd withal
- Upon the next occasion that we meet
- With visages display'd to talk and greet.
- ROSALINE. But shall we dance, if they desire us to't?
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. No, to the death, we will not move a foot,
- Nor to their penn'd speech render we no grace;
- But while 'tis spoke each turn away her face.
- BOYET. Why, that contempt will kill the speaker's heart,
- And quite divorce his memory from his part.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Therefore I do it; and I make no doubt
- The rest will ne'er come in, if he be out.
- There's no such sport as sport by sport o'erthrown,
- To make theirs ours, and ours none but our own;
- So shall we stay, mocking intended game,
- And they well mock'd depart away with shame.
- [Trumpet sounds within]
- BOYET. The trumpet sounds; be mask'd; the maskers come.
- [The LADIES mask]
-
- Enter BLACKAMOORS music, MOTH as Prologue, the
- KING and his LORDS as maskers, in the guise of Russians
-
- MOTH. All hail, the richest heauties on the earth!
- BOYET. Beauties no richer than rich taffeta.
- MOTH. A holy parcel of the fairest dames
- [The LADIES turn their backs to him]
- That ever turn'd their- backs- to mortal views!
- BEROWNE. Their eyes, villain, their eyes.
- MOTH. That ever turn'd their eyes to mortal views!
- Out-
- BOYET. True; out indeed.
- MOTH. Out of your favours, heavenly spirits, vouchsafe
- Not to behold-
- BEROWNE. Once to behold, rogue.
- MOTH. Once to behold with your sun-beamed eyes- with your
- sun-beamed eyes-
- BOYET. They will not answer to that epithet;
- You were best call it 'daughter-beamed eyes.'
- MOTH. They do not mark me, and that brings me out.
- BEROWNE. Is this your perfectness? Be gone, you rogue.
- Exit MOTH
- ROSALINE. What would these strangers? Know their minds, Boyet.
- If they do speak our language, 'tis our will
- That some plain man recount their purposes.
- Know what they would.
- BOYET. What would you with the Princess?
- BEROWNE. Nothing but peace and gentle visitation.
- ROSALINE. What would they, say they?
- BOYET. Nothing but peace and gentle visitation.
- ROSALINE. Why, that they have; and bid them so be gone.
- BOYET. She says you have it, and you may be gone.
- KING. Say to her we have measur'd many miles
- To tread a measure with her on this grass.
- BOYET. They say that they have measur'd many a mile
- To tread a measure with you on this grass.
- ROSALINE. It is not so. Ask them how many inches
- Is in one mile? If they have measured many,
- The measure, then, of one is eas'ly told.
- BOYET. If to come hither you have measur'd miles,
- And many miles, the Princess bids you tell
- How many inches doth fill up one mile.
- BEROWNE. Tell her we measure them by weary steps.
- BOYET. She hears herself.
- ROSALINE. How many weary steps
- Of many weary miles you have o'ergone
- Are numb'red in the travel of one mile?
- BEROWNE. We number nothing that we spend for you;
- Our duty is so rich, so infinite,
- That we may do it still without accompt.
- Vouchsafe to show the sunshine of your face,
- That we, like savages, may worship it.
- ROSALINE. My face is but a moon, and clouded too.
- KING. Blessed are clouds, to do as such clouds do.
- Vouchsafe, bright moon, and these thy stars, to shine,
- Those clouds removed, upon our watery eyne.
- ROSALINE. O vain petitioner! beg a greater matter;
- Thou now requests but moonshine in the water.
- KING. Then in our measure do but vouchsafe one change.
- Thou bid'st me beg; this begging is not strange.
- ROSALINE. Play, music, then. Nay, you must do it soon.
- Not yet? No dance! Thus change I like the moon.
- KING. Will you not dance? How come you thus estranged?
- ROSALINE. You took the moon at full; but now she's changed.
- KING. Yet still she is the Moon, and I the Man.
- The music plays; vouchsafe some motion to it.
- ROSALINE. Our ears vouchsafe it.
- KING. But your legs should do it.
- ROSALINE. Since you are strangers, and come here by chance,
- We'll not be nice; take hands. We will not dance.
- KING. Why take we hands then?
- ROSALINE. Only to part friends.
- Curtsy, sweet hearts; and so the measure ends.
- KING. More measure of this measure; be not nice.
- ROSALINE. We can afford no more at such a price.
- KING. Price you yourselves. What buys your company?
- ROSALINE. Your absence only.
- KING. That can never be.
- ROSALINE. Then cannot we be bought; and so adieu-
- Twice to your visor and half once to you.
- KING. If you deny to dance, let's hold more chat.
- ROSALINE. In private then.
- KING. I am best pleas'd with that. [They converse apart]
- BEROWNE. White-handed mistress, one sweet word with thee.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Honey, and milk, and sugar; there is three.
- BEROWNE. Nay, then, two treys, an if you grow so nice,
- Metheglin, wort, and malmsey; well run dice!
- There's half a dozen sweets.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Seventh sweet, adieu!
- Since you can cog, I'll play no more with you.
- BEROWNE. One word in secret.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Let it not be sweet.
- BEROWNE. Thou grievest my gall.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Gall! bitter.
- BEROWNE. Therefore meet. [They converse apart]
- DUMAIN. Will you vouchsafe with me to change a word?
- MARIA. Name it.
- DUMAIN. Fair lady-
- MARIA. Say you so? Fair lord-
- Take that for your fair lady.
- DUMAIN. Please it you,
- As much in private, and I'll bid adieu.
- [They converse apart]
- KATHARINE. What, was your vizard made without a tongue?
- LONGAVILLE. I know the reason, lady, why you ask.
- KATHARINE. O for your reason! Quickly, sir; I long.
- LONGAVILLE. You have a double tongue within your mask,
- And would afford my speechless vizard half.
- KATHARINE. 'Veal' quoth the Dutchman. Is not 'veal' a calf?
- LONGAVILLE. A calf, fair lady!
- KATHARINE. No, a fair lord calf.
- LONGAVILLE. Let's part the word.
- KATHARINE. No, I'll not be your half.
- Take all and wean it; it may prove an ox.
- LONGAVILLE. Look how you butt yourself in these sharp mocks!
- Will you give horns, chaste lady? Do not so.
- KATHARINE. Then die a calf, before your horns do grow.
- LONGAVILLE. One word in private with you ere I die.
- KATHARINE. Bleat softly, then; the butcher hears you cry.
- [They converse apart]
- BOYET. The tongues of mocking wenches are as keen
- As is the razor's edge invisible,
- Cutting a smaller hair than may be seen,
- Above the sense of sense; so sensible
- Seemeth their conference; their conceits have wings,
- Fleeter than arrows, bullets, wind, thought, swifter things.
- ROSALINE. Not one word more, my maids; break off, break off.
- BEROWNE. By heaven, all dry-beaten with pure scoff!
- KING. Farewell, mad wenches; you have simple wits.
- Exeunt KING, LORDS, and BLACKAMOORS
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Twenty adieus, my frozen Muscovits.
- Are these the breed of wits so wondered at?
- BOYET. Tapers they are, with your sweet breaths puff'd out.
- ROSALINE. Well-liking wits they have; gross, gross; fat, fat.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. O poverty in wit, kingly-poor flout!
- Will they not, think you, hang themselves to-night?
- Or ever but in vizards show their faces?
- This pert Berowne was out of count'nance quite.
- ROSALINE. They were all in lamentable cases!
- The King was weeping-ripe for a good word.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Berowne did swear himself out of all suit.
- MARIA. Dumain was at my service, and his sword.
- 'No point' quoth I; my servant straight was mute.
- KATHARINE. Lord Longaville said I came o'er his heart;
- And trow you what he call'd me?
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Qualm, perhaps.
- KATHARINE. Yes, in good faith.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Go, sickness as thou art!
- ROSALINE. Well, better wits have worn plain statute-caps.
- But will you hear? The King is my love sworn.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. And quick Berowne hath plighted faith to me.
- KATHARINE. And Longaville was for my service born.
- MARIA. Dumain is mine, as sure as bark on tree.
- BOYET. Madam, and pretty mistresses, give ear:
- Immediately they will again be here
- In their own shapes; for it can never be
- They will digest this harsh indignity.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Will they return?
- BOYET. They will, they will, God knows,
- And leap for joy, though they are lame with blows;
- Therefore, change favours; and, when they repair,
- Blow like sweet roses in this summer air.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. How blow? how blow? Speak to be understood.
- BOYET. Fair ladies mask'd are roses in their bud:
- Dismask'd, their damask sweet commixture shown,
- Are angels vailing clouds, or roses blown.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Avaunt, perplexity! What shall we do
- If they return in their own shapes to woo?
- ROSALINE. Good madam, if by me you'll be advis'd,
- Let's mock them still, as well known as disguis'd.
- Let us complain to them what fools were here,
- Disguis'd like Muscovites, in shapeless gear;
- And wonder what they were, and to what end
- Their shallow shows and prologue vilely penn'd,
- And their rough carriage so ridiculous,
- Should be presented at our tent to us.
- BOYET. Ladies, withdraw; the gallants are at hand.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Whip to our tents, as roes run o'er land.
- Exeunt PRINCESS, ROSALINE, KATHARINE, and MARIA
-
- Re-enter the KING, BEROWNE, LONGAVILLE, and DUMAIN,
- in their proper habits
-
- KING. Fair sir, God save you! Where's the Princess?
- BOYET. Gone to her tent. Please it your Majesty
- Command me any service to her thither?
- KING. That she vouchsafe me audience for one word.
- BOYET. I will; and so will she, I know, my lord. Exit
- BEROWNE. This fellow pecks up wit as pigeons pease,
- And utters it again when God doth please.
- He is wit's pedlar, and retails his wares
- At wakes, and wassails, meetings, markets, fairs;
- And we that sell by gross, the Lord doth know,
- Have not the grace to grace it with such show.
- This gallant pins the wenches on his sleeve;
- Had he been Adam, he had tempted Eve.
- 'A can carve too, and lisp; why this is he
- That kiss'd his hand away in courtesy;
- This is the ape of form, Monsieur the Nice,
- That, when he plays at tables, chides the dice
- In honourable terms; nay, he can sing
- A mean most meanly; and in ushering,
- Mend him who can. The ladies call him sweet;
- The stairs, as he treads on them, kiss his feet.
- This is the flow'r that smiles on every one,
- To show his teeth as white as whales-bone;
- And consciences that will not die in debt
- Pay him the due of 'honey-tongued Boyet.'
- KING. A blister on his sweet tongue, with my heart,
- That put Armado's page out of his part!
-
- Re-enter the PRINCESS, ushered by BOYET; ROSALINE,
- MARIA, and KATHARINE
-
- BEROWNE. See where it comes! Behaviour, what wert thou
- Till this man show'd thee? And what art thou now?
- KING. All hail, sweet madam, and fair time of day!
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. 'Fair' in 'all hail' is foul, as I conceive.
- KING. Construe my speeches better, if you may.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Then wish me better; I will give you leave.
- KING. We came to visit you, and purpose now
- To lead you to our court; vouchsafe it then.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. This field shall hold me, and so hold your vow:
- Nor God, nor I, delights in perjur'd men.
- KING. Rebuke me not for that which you provoke.
- The virtue of your eye must break my oath.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. You nickname virtue: vice you should have
- spoke;
- For virtue's office never breaks men's troth.
- Now by my maiden honour, yet as pure
- As the unsullied lily, I protest,
- A world of torments though I should endure,
- I would not yield to be your house's guest;
- So much I hate a breaking cause to be
- Of heavenly oaths, vowed with integrity.
- KING. O, you have liv'd in desolation here,
- Unseen, unvisited, much to our shame.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Not so, my lord; it is not so, I swear;
- We have had pastimes here, and pleasant game;
- A mess of Russians left us but of late.
- KING. How, madam! Russians!
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Ay, in truth, my lord;
- Trim gallants, full of courtship and of state.
- ROSALINE. Madam, speak true. It is not so, my lord.
- My lady, to the manner of the days,
- In courtesy gives undeserving praise.
- We four indeed confronted were with four
- In Russian habit; here they stayed an hour
- And talk'd apace; and in that hour, my lord,
- They did not bless us with one happy word.
- I dare not call them fools; but this I think,
- When they are thirsty, fools would fain have drink.
- BEROWNE. This jest is dry to me. Fair gentle sweet,
- Your wit makes wise things foolish; when we greet,
- With eyes best seeing, heaven's fiery eye,
- By light we lose light; your capacity
- Is of that nature that to your huge store
- Wise things seem foolish and rich things but poor.
- ROSALINE. This proves you wise and rich, for in my eye-
- BEROWNE. I am a fool, and full of poverty.
- ROSALINE. But that you take what doth to you belong,
- It were a fault to snatch words from my tongue.
- BEROWNE. O, I am yours, and all that I possess.
- ROSALINE. All the fool mine?
- BEROWNE. I cannot give you less.
- ROSALINE. Which of the vizards was it that you wore?
- BEROWNE. Where? when? what vizard? Why demand you this?
- ROSALINE. There, then, that vizard; that superfluous case
- That hid the worse and show'd the better face.
- KING. We were descried; they'll mock us now downright.
- DUMAIN. Let us confess, and turn it to a jest.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Amaz'd, my lord? Why looks your Highness sad?
- ROSALINE. Help, hold his brows! he'll swoon! Why look you pale?
- Sea-sick, I think, coming from Muscovy.
- BEROWNE. Thus pour the stars down plagues for perjury.
- Can any face of brass hold longer out?
- Here stand I, lady- dart thy skill at me,
- Bruise me with scorn, confound me with a flout,
- Thrust thy sharp wit quite through my ignorance,
- Cut me to pieces with thy keen conceit;
- And I will wish thee never more to dance,
- Nor never more in Russian habit wait.
- O, never will I trust to speeches penn'd,
- Nor to the motion of a school-boy's tongue,
- Nor never come in vizard to my friend,
- Nor woo in rhyme, like a blind harper's song.
- Taffeta phrases, silken terms precise,
- Three-pil'd hyperboles, spruce affectation,
- Figures pedantical- these summer-flies
- Have blown me full of maggot ostentation.
- I do forswear them; and I here protest,
- By this white glove- how white the hand, God knows!-
- Henceforth my wooing mind shall be express'd
- In russet yeas, and honest kersey noes.
- And, to begin, wench- so God help me, law!-
- My love to thee is sound, sans crack or flaw.
- ROSALINE. Sans 'sans,' I pray you.
- BEROWNE. Yet I have a trick
- Of the old rage; bear with me, I am sick;
- I'll leave it by degrees. Soft, let us see-
- Write 'Lord have mercy on us' on those three;
- They are infected; in their hearts it lies;
- They have the plague, and caught it of your eyes.
- These lords are visited; you are not free,
- For the Lord's tokens on you do I see.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. No, they are free that gave these tokens to us.
- BEROWNE. Our states are forfeit; seek not to undo us.
- ROSALINE. It is not so; for how can this be true,
- That you stand forfeit, being those that sue?
- BEROWNE. Peace; for I will not have to do with you.
- ROSALINE. Nor shall not, if I do as I intend.
- BEROWNE. Speak for yourselves; my wit is at an end.
- KING. Teach us, sweet madam, for our rude transgression
- Some fair excuse.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. The fairest is confession.
- Were not you here but even now, disguis'd?
- KING. Madam, I was.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. And were you well advis'd?
- KING. I was, fair madam.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. When you then were here,
- What did you whisper in your lady's ear?
- KING. That more than all the world I did respect her.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. When she shall challenge this, you will reject
- her.
- KING. Upon mine honour, no.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Peace, peace, forbear;
- Your oath once broke, you force not to forswear.
- KING. Despise me when I break this oath of mine.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. I will; and therefore keep it. Rosaline,
- What did the Russian whisper in your ear?
- ROSALINE. Madam, he swore that he did hold me dear
- As precious eyesight, and did value me
- Above this world; adding thereto, moreover,
- That he would wed me, or else die my lover.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. God give thee joy of him! The noble lord
- Most honourably doth uphold his word.
- KING. What mean you, madam? By my life, my troth,
- I never swore this lady such an oath.
- ROSALINE. By heaven, you did; and, to confirm it plain,
- You gave me this; but take it, sir, again.
- KING. My faith and this the Princess I did give;
- I knew her by this jewel on her sleeve.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Pardon me, sir, this jewel did she wear;
- And Lord Berowne, I thank him, is my dear.
- What, will you have me, or your pearl again?
- BEROWNE. Neither of either; I remit both twain.
- I see the trick on't: here was a consent,
- Knowing aforehand of our merriment,
- To dash it like a Christmas comedy.
- Some carry-tale, some please-man, some slight zany,
- Some mumble-news, some trencher-knight, some Dick,
- That smiles his cheek in years and knows the trick
- To make my lady laugh when she's dispos'd,
- Told our intents before; which once disclos'd,
- The ladies did change favours; and then we,
- Following the signs, woo'd but the sign of she.
- Now, to our perjury to add more terror,
- We are again forsworn in will and error.
- Much upon this it is; [To BOYET] and might not you
- Forestall our sport, to make us thus untrue?
- Do not you know my lady's foot by th' squier,
- And laugh upon the apple of her eye?
- And stand between her back, sir, and the fire,
- Holding a trencher, jesting merrily?
- You put our page out. Go, you are allow'd;
- Die when you will, a smock shall be your shroud.
- You leer upon me, do you? There's an eye
- Wounds like a leaden sword.
- BOYET. Full merrily
- Hath this brave manage, this career, been run.
- BEROWNE. Lo, he is tilting straight! Peace; I have done.
-
- Enter COSTARD
-
- Welcome, pure wit! Thou part'st a fair fray.
- COSTARD. O Lord, sir, they would know
- Whether the three Worthies shall come in or no?
- BEROWNE. What, are there but three?
- COSTARD. No, sir; but it is vara fine,
- For every one pursents three.
- BEROWNE. And three times thrice is nine.
- COSTARD. Not so, sir; under correction, sir,
- I hope it is not so.
- You cannot beg us, sir, I can assure you, sir; we know what we
- know;
- I hope, sir, three times thrice, sir-
- BEROWNE. Is not nine.
- COSTARD. Under correction, sir, we know whereuntil it doth amount.
- BEROWNE. By Jove, I always took three threes for nine.
- COSTARD. O Lord, sir, it were pity you should get your living by
- reck'ning, sir.
- BEROWNE. How much is it?
- COSTARD. O Lord, sir, the parties themselves, the actors, sir, will
- show whereuntil it doth amount. For mine own part, I am, as they
- say, but to parfect one man in one poor man, Pompion the Great,
- sir.
- BEROWNE. Art thou one of the Worthies?
- COSTARD. It pleased them to think me worthy of Pompey the Great;
- for mine own part, I know not the degree of the Worthy; but I am
- to stand for him.
- BEROWNE. Go, bid them prepare.
- COSTARD. We will turn it finely off, sir; we will take some care.
- Exit COSTARD
- KING. Berowne, they will shame us; let them not approach.
- BEROWNE. We are shame-proof, my lord, and 'tis some policy
- To have one show worse than the King's and his company.
- KING. I say they shall not come.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Nay, my good lord, let me o'errule you now.
- That sport best pleases that doth least know how;
- Where zeal strives to content, and the contents
- Dies in the zeal of that which it presents.
- Their form confounded makes most form in mirth,
- When great things labouring perish in their birth.
- BEROWNE. A right description of our sport, my lord.
-
- Enter ARMADO
-
- ARMADO. Anointed, I implore so much expense of thy royal sweet
- breath as will utter a brace of words.
- [Converses apart with the KING, and delivers a paper]
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Doth this man serve God?
- BEROWNE. Why ask you?
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. 'A speaks not like a man of God his making.
- ARMADO. That is all one, my fair, sweet, honey monarch; for, I
- protest, the schoolmaster is exceeding fantastical; too too vain,
- too too vain; but we will put it, as they say, to fortuna de la
- guerra. I wish you the peace of mind, most royal couplement!
- Exit ARMADO
- KING. Here is like to be a good presence of Worthies. He presents
- Hector of Troy; the swain, Pompey the Great; the parish curate,
- Alexander; Arinado's page, Hercules; the pedant, Judas
- Maccabaeus.
- And if these four Worthies in their first show thrive,
- These four will change habits and present the other five.
- BEROWNE. There is five in the first show.
- KING. You are deceived, 'tis not so.
- BEROWNE. The pedant, the braggart, the hedge-priest, the fool, and
- the boy:
- Abate throw at novum, and the whole world again
- Cannot pick out five such, take each one in his vein.
- KING. The ship is under sail, and here she comes amain.
-
- Enter COSTARD, armed for POMPEY
-
- COSTARD. I Pompey am-
- BEROWNE. You lie, you are not he.
- COSTARD. I Pompey am-
- BOYET. With libbard's head on knee.
- BEROWNE. Well said, old mocker; I must needs be friends with thee.
- COSTARD. I Pompey am, Pompey surnam'd the Big-
- DUMAIN. The Great.
- COSTARD. It is Great, sir.
- Pompey surnam'd the Great,
- That oft in field, with targe and shield, did make my foe to
- sweat;
- And travelling along this coast, I bere am come by chance,
- And lay my arms before the legs of this sweet lass of France.
-
- If your ladyship would say 'Thanks, Pompey,' I had done.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Great thanks, great Pompey.
- COSTARD. 'Tis not so much worth; but I hope I was perfect.
- I made a little fault in Great.
- BEROWNE. My hat to a halfpenny, Pompey proves the best Worthy.
-
- Enter SIR NATHANIEL, for ALEXANDER
-
- NATHANIEL. When in the world I liv'd, I was the world's commander;
- By east, west, north, and south, I spread my conquering might.
- My scutcheon plain declares that I am Alisander-
- BOYET. Your nose says, no, you are not; for it stands to right.
- BEROWNE. Your nose smells 'no' in this, most tender-smelling
- knight.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. The conqueror is dismay'd. Proceed, good
- Alexander.
- NATHANIEL. When in the world I liv'd, I was the world's commander-
- BOYET. Most true, 'tis right, you were so, Alisander.
- BEROWNE. Pompey the Great!
- COSTARD. Your servant, and Costard.
- BEROWNE. Take away the conqueror, take away Alisander.
- COSTARD. [To Sir Nathaniel] O, Sir, you have overthrown Alisander
- the conqueror! You will be scrap'd out of the painted cloth for
- this. Your lion, that holds his poleaxe sitting on a close-stool,
- will be given to Ajax. He will be the ninth Worthy. A conqueror
- and afeard to speak! Run away for shame, Alisander.
- [Sir Nathaniel retires] There, an't shall please you, a foolish
- mild man; an honest man, look you, and soon dash'd. He is a
- marvellous good neighbour, faith, and a very good bowler; but for
- Alisander- alas! you see how 'tis- a little o'erparted. But there
- are Worthies a-coming will speak their mind in some other sort.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Stand aside, good Pompey.
-
- Enter HOLOFERNES, for JUDAS; and MOTH, for HERCULES
-
- HOLOFERNES. Great Hercules is presented by this imp,
- Whose club kill'd Cerberus, that three-headed canus;
- And when be was a babe, a child, a shrimp,
- Thus did he strangle serpents in his manus.
- Quoniam he seemeth in minority,
- Ergo I come with this apology.
- Keep some state in thy exit, and vanish. [MOTH retires]
- Judas I am-
- DUMAIN. A Judas!
- HOLOFERNES. Not Iscariot, sir.
- Judas I am, ycliped Maccabaeus.
- DUMAIN. Judas Maccabaeus clipt is plain Judas.
- BEROWNE. A kissing traitor. How art thou prov'd Judas?
- HOLOFERNES. Judas I am-
- DUMAIN. The more shame for you, Judas!
- HOLOFERNES. What mean you, sir?
- BOYET. To make Judas hang himself.
- HOLOFERNES. Begin, sir; you are my elder.
- BEROWNE. Well followed: Judas was hanged on an elder.
- HOLOFERNES. I will not be put out of countenance.
- BEROWNE. Because thou hast no face.
- HOLOFERNES. What is this?
- BOYET. A cittern-head.
- DUMAIN. The head of a bodkin.
- BEROWNE. A death's face in a ring.
- LONGAVILLE. The face of an old Roman coin, scarce seen.
- BOYET. The pommel of Coesar's falchion.
- DUMAIN. The carv'd-bone face on a flask.
- BEROWNE. Saint George's half-cheek in a brooch.
- DUMAIN. Ay, and in a brooch of lead.
- BEROWNE. Ay, and worn in the cap of a tooth-drawer. And now,
- forward; for we have put thee in countenance.
- HOLOFERNES. You have put me out of countenance.
- BEROWNE. False: we have given thee faces.
- HOLOFERNES. But you have outfac'd them all.
- BEROWNE. An thou wert a lion we would do so.
- BOYET. Therefore, as he is an ass, let him go.
- And so adieu, sweet Jude! Nay, why dost thou stay?
- DUMAIN. For the latter end of his name.
- BEROWNE. For the ass to the Jude; give it him- Jud-as, away.
- HOLOFERNES. This is not generous, not gentle, not humble.
- BOYET. A light for Monsieur Judas! It grows dark, he may stumble.
- [HOLOFERNES retires]
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Alas, poor Maccabaeus, how hath he been baited!
-
- Enter ARMADO, for HECTOR
-
- BEROWNE. Hide thy head, Achilles; here comes Hector in arms.
- DUMAIN. Though my mocks come home by me, I will now be merry.
- KING. Hector was but a Troyan in respect of this.
- BOYET. But is this Hector?
- DUMAIN. I think Hector was not so clean-timber'd.
- LONGAVILLE. His leg is too big for Hector's.
- DUMAIN. More calf, certain.
- BOYET. No; he is best indued in the small.
- BEROWNE. This cannot be Hector.
- DUMAIN. He's a god or a painter, for he makes faces.
- ARMADO. The armipotent Mars, of lances the almighty,
- Gave Hector a gift-
- DUMAIN. A gilt nutmeg.
- BEROWNE. A lemon.
- LONGAVILLE. Stuck with cloves.
- DUMAIN. No, cloven.
- ARMADO. Peace!
- The armipotent Mars, of lances the almighty,
- Gave Hector a gift, the heir of Ilion;
- A man so breathed that certain he would fight ye,
- From morn till night out of his pavilion.
- I am that flower-
- DUMAIN. That mint.
- LONGAVILLE. That columbine.
- ARMADO. Sweet Lord Longaville, rein thy tongue.
- LONGAVILLE. I must rather give it the rein, for it runs against
- Hector.
- DUMAIN. Ay, and Hector's a greyhound.
- ARMADO. The sweet war-man is dead and rotten; sweet chucks, beat
- not the bones of the buried; when he breathed, he was a man. But
- I will forward with my device. [To the PRINCESS] Sweet royalty,
- bestow on me the sense of hearing.
-
- [BEROWNE steps forth, and speaks to COSTARD]
-
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Speak, brave Hector; we are much delighted.
- ARMADO. I do adore thy sweet Grace's slipper.
- BOYET. [Aside to DUMAIN] Loves her by the foot.
- DUMAIN. [Aside to BOYET] He may not by the yard.
- ARMADO. This Hector far surmounted Hannibal-
- COSTARD. The party is gone, fellow Hector, she is gone; she is two
- months on her way.
- ARMADO. What meanest thou?
- COSTARD. Faith, unless you play the honest Troyan, the poor wench
- is cast away. She's quick; the child brags in her belly already;
- 'tis yours.
- ARMADO. Dost thou infamonize me among potentates? Thou shalt die.
- COSTARD. Then shall Hector be whipt for Jaquenetta that is quick by
- him, and hang'd for Pompey that is dead by him.
- DUMAIN. Most rare Pompey!
- BOYET. Renowned Pompey!
- BEROWNE. Greater than Great! Great, great, great Pompey! Pompey the
- Huge!
- DUMAIN. Hector trembles.
- BEROWNE. Pompey is moved. More Ates, more Ates! Stir them on! stir
- them on!
- DUMAIN. Hector will challenge him.
- BEROWNE. Ay, if 'a have no more man's blood in his belly than will
- sup a flea.
- ARMADO. By the North Pole, I do challenge thee.
- COSTARD. I will not fight with a pole, like a Northern man; I'll
- slash; I'll do it by the sword. I bepray you, let me borrow my
- arms again.
- DUMAIN. Room for the incensed Worthies!
- COSTARD. I'll do it in my shirt.
- DUMAIN. Most resolute Pompey!
- MOTH. Master, let me take you a buttonhole lower. Do you not see
- Pompey is uncasing for the combat? What mean you? You will lose
- your reputation.
- ARMADO. Gentlemen and soldiers, pardon me; I will not combat in my
- shirt.
- DUMAIN. You may not deny it: Pompey hath made the challenge.
- ARMADO. Sweet bloods, I both may and will.
- BEROWNE. What reason have you for 't?
- ARMADO. The naked truth of it is: I have no shirt; I go woolward
- for penance.
- BOYET. True, and it was enjoined him in Rome for want of linen;
- since when, I'll be sworn, he wore none but a dishclout of
- Jaquenetta's, and that 'a wears next his heart for a favour.
-
- Enter as messenger, MONSIEUR MARCADE
-
- MARCADE. God save you, madam!
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Welcome, Marcade;
- But that thou interruptest our merriment.
- MARCADE. I am sorry, madam; for the news I bring
- Is heavy in my tongue. The King your father-
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Dead, for my life!
- MARCADE. Even so; my tale is told.
- BEROWNE. WOrthies away; the scene begins to cloud.
- ARMADO. For mine own part, I breathe free breath. I have seen the
- day of wrong through the little hole of discretion, and I will
- right myself like a soldier. Exeunt WORTHIES
- KING. How fares your Majesty?
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Boyet, prepare; I will away to-night.
- KING. Madam, not so; I do beseech you stay.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Prepare, I say. I thank you, gracious lords,
- For all your fair endeavours, and entreat,
- Out of a new-sad soul, that you vouchsafe
- In your rich wisdom to excuse or hide
- The liberal opposition of our spirits,
- If over-boldly we have borne ourselves
- In the converse of breath- your gentleness
- Was guilty of it. Farewell, worthy lord.
- A heavy heart bears not a nimble tongue.
- Excuse me so, coming too short of thanks
- For my great suit so easily obtain'd.
- KING. The extreme parts of time extremely forms
- All causes to the purpose of his speed;
- And often at his very loose decides
- That which long process could not arbitrate.
- And though the mourning brow of progeny
- Forbid the smiling courtesy of love
- The holy suit which fain it would convince,
- Yet, since love's argument was first on foot,
- Let not the cloud of sorrow justle it
- From what it purpos'd; since to wail friends lost
- Is not by much so wholesome-profitable
- As to rejoice at friends but newly found.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. I understand you not; my griefs are double.
- BEROWNE. Honest plain words best pierce the ear of grief;
- And by these badges understand the King.
- For your fair sakes have we neglected time,
- Play'd foul play with our oaths; your beauty, ladies,
- Hath much deformed us, fashioning our humours
- Even to the opposed end of our intents;
- And what in us hath seem'd ridiculous,
- As love is full of unbefitting strains,
- All wanton as a child, skipping and vain;
- Form'd by the eye and therefore, like the eye,
- Full of strange shapes, of habits, and of forms,
- Varying in subjects as the eye doth roll
- To every varied object in his glance;
- Which parti-coated presence of loose love
- Put on by us, if in your heavenly eyes
- Have misbecom'd our oaths and gravities,
- Those heavenly eyes that look into these faults
- Suggested us to make. Therefore, ladies,
- Our love being yours, the error that love makes
- Is likewise yours. We to ourselves prove false,
- By being once false for ever to be true
- To those that make us both- fair ladies, you;
- And even that falsehood, in itself a sin,
- Thus purifies itself and turns to grace.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. We have receiv'd your letters, full of love;
- Your favours, the ambassadors of love;
- And, in our maiden council, rated them
- At courtship, pleasant jest, and courtesy,
- As bombast and as lining to the time;
- But more devout than this in our respects
- Have we not been; and therefore met your loves
- In their own fashion, like a merriment.
- DUMAIN. Our letters, madam, show'd much more than jest.
- LONGAVILLE. So did our looks.
- ROSALINE. We did not quote them so.
- KING. Now, at the latest minute of the hour,
- Grant us your loves.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. A time, methinks, too short
- To make a world-without-end bargain in.
- No, no, my lord, your Grace is perjur'd much,
- Full of dear guiltiness; and therefore this,
- If for my love, as there is no such cause,
- You will do aught- this shall you do for me:
- Your oath I will not trust; but go with speed
- To some forlorn and naked hermitage,
- Remote from all the pleasures of the world;
- There stay until the twelve celestial signs
- Have brought about the annual reckoning.
- If this austere insociable life
- Change not your offer made in heat of blood,
- If frosts and fasts, hard lodging and thin weeds,
- Nip not the gaudy blossoms of your love,
- But that it bear this trial, and last love,
- Then, at the expiration of the year,
- Come, challenge me, challenge me by these deserts;
- And, by this virgin palm now kissing thine,
- I will be thine; and, till that instant, shut
- My woeful self up in a mournful house,
- Raining the tears of lamentation
- For the remembrance of my father's death.
- If this thou do deny, let our hands part,
- Neither intitled in the other's heart.
- KING. If this, or more than this, I would deny,
- To flatter up these powers of mine with rest,
- The sudden hand of death close up mine eye!
- Hence hermit then, my heart is in thy breast.
- BEROWNE. And what to me, my love? and what to me?
- ROSALINE. You must he purged too, your sins are rack'd;
- You are attaint with faults and perjury;
- Therefore, if you my favour mean to get,
- A twelvemonth shall you spend, and never rest,
- But seek the weary beds of people sick.
- DUMAIN. But what to me, my love? but what to me?
- A wife?
- KATHARINE. A beard, fair health, and honesty;
- With threefold love I wish you all these three.
- DUMAIN. O, shall I say I thank you, gentle wife?
- KATHARINE. No so, my lord; a twelvemonth and a day
- I'll mark no words that smooth-fac'd wooers say.
- Come when the King doth to my lady come;
- Then, if I have much love, I'll give you some.
- DUMAIN. I'll serve thee true and faithfully till then.
- KATHARINE. Yet swear not, lest ye be forsworn again.
- LONGAVILLE. What says Maria?
- MARIA. At the twelvemonth's end
- I'll change my black gown for a faithful friend.
- LONGAVILLE. I'll stay with patience; but the time is long.
- MARIA. The liker you; few taller are so young.
- BEROWNE. Studies my lady? Mistress, look on me;
- Behold the window of my heart, mine eye,
- What humble suit attends thy answer there.
- Impose some service on me for thy love.
- ROSALINE. Oft have I heard of you, my Lord Berowne,
- Before I saw you; and the world's large tongue
- Proclaims you for a man replete with mocks,
- Full of comparisons and wounding flouts,
- Which you on all estates will execute
- That lie within the mercy of your wit.
- To weed this wormwood from your fruitful brain,
- And therewithal to win me, if you please,
- Without the which I am not to be won,
- You shall this twelvemonth term from day to day
- Visit the speechless sick, and still converse
- With groaning wretches; and your task shall be,
- With all the fierce endeavour of your wit,
- To enforce the pained impotent to smile.
- BEROWNE. To move wild laughter in the throat of death?
- It cannot be; it is impossible;
- Mirth cannot move a soul in agony.
- ROSALINE. Why, that's the way to choke a gibing spirit,
- Whose influence is begot of that loose grace
- Which shallow laughing hearers give to fools.
- A jest's prosperity lies in the ear
- Of him that hears it, never in the tongue
- Of him that makes it; then, if sickly ears,
- Deaf'd with the clamours of their own dear groans,
- Will hear your idle scorns, continue then,
- And I will have you and that fault withal.
- But if they will not, throw away that spirit,
- And I shall find you empty of that fault,
- Right joyful of your reformation.
- BEROWNE. A twelvemonth? Well, befall what will befall,
- I'll jest a twelvemonth in an hospital.
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. [ To the King] Ay, sweet my lord, and so I take
- my leave.
- KING. No, madam; we will bring you on your way.
- BEROWNE. Our wooing doth not end like an old play:
- Jack hath not Jill. These ladies' courtesy
- Might well have made our sport a comedy.
- KING. Come, sir, it wants a twelvemonth an' a day,
- And then 'twill end.
- BEROWNE. That's too long for a play.
-
- Re-enter ARMADO
-
- ARMADO. Sweet Majesty, vouchsafe me-
- PRINCESS OF FRANCE. Was not that not Hector?
- DUMAIN. The worthy knight of Troy.
- ARMADO. I will kiss thy royal finger, and take leave. I am a
- votary: I have vow'd to Jaquenetta to hold the plough for her
- sweet love three year. But, most esteemed greatness, will you
- hear the dialogue that the two learned men have compiled in
- praise of the Owl and the Cuckoo? It should have followed in the
- end of our show.
- KING. Call them forth quickly; we will do so.
- ARMADO. Holla! approach.
-
- Enter All
-
- This side is Hiems, Winter; this Ver, the Spring- the one
- maintained by the Owl, th' other by the Cuckoo. Ver, begin.
-
- SPRING
- When daisies pied and violets blue
- And lady-smocks all silver-white
- And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue
- Do paint the meadows with delight,
- The cuckoo then on every tree
- Mocks married men, for thus sings he:
- 'Cuckoo;
- Cuckoo, cuckoo'- O word of fear,
- Unpleasing to a married ear!
-
- When shepherds pipe on oaten straws,
- And merry larks are ploughmen's clocks;
- When turtles tread, and rooks and daws,
- And maidens bleach their summer smocks;
- The cuckoo then on every tree
- Mocks married men, for thus sings he:
- 'Cuckoo;
- Cuckoo, cuckoo'- O word of fear,
- Unpleasing to a married ear!
-
-
- WINTER
-
- When icicles hang by the wall,
- And Dick the shepherd blows his nail,
- And Tom bears logs into the hall,
- And milk comes frozen home in pail,
- When blood is nipp'd, and ways be foul,
- Then nightly sings the staring owl:
- 'Tu-who;
- Tu-whit, Tu-who'- A merry note,
- While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.
-
- When all aloud the wind doth blow,
- And coughing drowns the parson's saw,
- And birds sit brooding in the snow,
- And Marian's nose looks red and raw,
- When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl,
- Then nightly sings the staring owl:
- 'Tu-who;
- Tu-whit, To-who'- A merry note,
- While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.
-
- ARMADO. The words of Mercury are harsh after the songs of Apollo.
- You that way: we this way. Exeunt
-
-THE END
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-
-
-
-1606
-
-THE TRAGEDY OF MACBETH
-
-
-by William Shakespeare
-
-
-
-Dramatis Personae
-
- DUNCAN, King of Scotland
- MACBETH, Thane of Glamis and Cawdor, a general in the King's army
- LADY MACBETH, his wife
- MACDUFF, Thane of Fife, a nobleman of Scotland
- LADY MACDUFF, his wife
- MALCOLM, elder son of Duncan
- DONALBAIN, younger son of Duncan
- BANQUO, Thane of Lochaber, a general in the King's army
- FLEANCE, his son
- LENNOX, nobleman of Scotland
- ROSS, nobleman of Scotland
- MENTEITH nobleman of Scotland
- ANGUS, nobleman of Scotland
- CAITHNESS, nobleman of Scotland
- SIWARD, Earl of Northumberland, general of the English forces
- YOUNG SIWARD, his son
- SEYTON, attendant to Macbeth
- HECATE, Queen of the Witches
- The Three Witches
- Boy, Son of Macduff
- Gentlewoman attending on Lady Macbeth
- An English Doctor
- A Scottish Doctor
- A Sergeant
- A Porter
- An Old Man
- The Ghost of Banquo and other Apparitions
- Lords, Gentlemen, Officers, Soldiers, Murtherers, Attendants,
- and Messengers
-
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-SCENE: Scotland and England
-
-
-ACT I. SCENE I.
-A desert place. Thunder and lightning.
-
-Enter three Witches.
-
- FIRST WITCH. When shall we three meet again?
- In thunder, lightning, or in rain?
- SECOND WITCH. When the hurlyburly's done,
- When the battle's lost and won.
- THIRD WITCH. That will be ere the set of sun.
- FIRST WITCH. Where the place?
- SECOND WITCH. Upon the heath.
- THIRD WITCH. There to meet with Macbeth.
- FIRST WITCH. I come, Graymalkin.
- ALL. Paddock calls. Anon!
- Fair is foul, and foul is fair.
- Hover through the fog and filthy air. Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-A camp near Forres. Alarum within.
-
-Enter Duncan, Malcolm, Donalbain, Lennox, with Attendants,
-meeting a bleeding Sergeant.
-
- DUNCAN. What bloody man is that? He can report,
- As seemeth by his plight, of the revolt
- The newest state.
- MALCOLM. This is the sergeant
- Who like a good and hardy soldier fought
- 'Gainst my captivity. Hail, brave friend!
- Say to the King the knowledge of the broil
- As thou didst leave it.
- SERGEANT. Doubtful it stood,
- As two spent swimmers that do cling together
- And choke their art. The merciless Macdonwald-
- Worthy to be a rebel, for to that
- The multiplying villainies of nature
- Do swarm upon him -from the Western Isles
- Of kerns and gallowglasses is supplied;
- And Fortune, on his damned quarrel smiling,
- Show'd like a rebel's whore. But all's too weak;
- For brave Macbeth -well he deserves that name-
- Disdaining Fortune, with his brandish'd steel,
- Which smoked with bloody execution,
- Like Valor's minion carved out his passage
- Till he faced the slave,
- Which ne'er shook hands, nor bade farewell to him,
- Till he unseam'd him from the nave to the chaps,
- And fix'd his head upon our battlements.
- DUNCAN. O valiant cousin! Worthy gentleman!
- SERGEANT. As whence the sun 'gins his reflection
- Shipwrecking storms and direful thunders break,
- So from that spring whence comfort seem'd to come
- Discomfort swells. Mark, King of Scotland, mark.
- No sooner justice had, with valor arm'd,
- Compell'd these skipping kerns to trust their heels,
- But the Norweyan lord, surveying vantage,
- With furbish'd arms and new supplies of men,
- Began a fresh assault.
- DUNCAN. Dismay'd not this
- Our captains, Macbeth and Banquo.?
- SERGEANT. Yes,
- As sparrows eagles, or the hare the lion.
- If I say sooth, I must report they were
- As cannons overcharged with double cracks,
- So they
- Doubly redoubled strokes upon the foe.
- Except they meant to bathe in reeking wounds,
- Or memorize another Golgotha,
- I cannot tell-
- But I am faint; my gashes cry for help.
- DUNCAN. So well thy words become thee as thy wounds;
- They smack of honor both. Go get him surgeons.
- Exit Sergeant, attended.
- Who comes here?
-
- Enter Ross.
-
- MALCOLM The worthy Thane of Ross.
- LENNOX. What a haste looks through his eyes! So should he look
- That seems to speak things strange.
- ROSS. God save the King!
- DUNCAN. Whence camest thou, worthy Thane?
- ROSS. From Fife, great King,
- Where the Norweyan banners flout the sky
- And fan our people cold.
- Norway himself, with terrible numbers,
- Assisted by that most disloyal traitor
- The Thane of Cawdor, began a dismal conflict,
- Till that Bellona's bridegroom, lapp'd in proof,
- Confronted him with self-comparisons,
- Point against point rebellious, arm 'gainst arm,
- Curbing his lavish spirit; and, to conclude,
- The victory fell on us.
- DUNCAN. Great happiness!
- ROSS. That now
- Sweno, the Norways' king, craves composition;
- Nor would we deign him burial of his men
- Till he disbursed, at Saint Colme's Inch,
- Ten thousand dollars to our general use.
- DUNCAN. No more that Thane of Cawdor shall deceive
- Our bosom interest. Go pronounce his present death,
- And with his former title greet Macbeth.
- ROSS. I'll see it done.
- DUNCAN. What he hath lost, noble Macbeth hath won.
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-A heath. Thunder.
-
-Enter the three Witches.
-
- FIRST WITCH. Where hast thou been, sister?
- SECOND WITCH. Killing swine.
- THIRD WITCH. Sister, where thou?
- FIRST WITCH. A sailor's wife had chestnuts in her lap,
- And mounch'd, and mounch'd, and mounch'd. "Give me," quoth I.
- "Aroint thee, witch!" the rump-fed ronyon cries.
- Her husband's to Aleppo gone, master the Tiger;
- But in a sieve I'll thither sail,
- And, like a rat without a tail,
- I'll do, I'll do, and I'll do.
- SECOND WITCH. I'll give thee a wind.
- FIRST WITCH. Thou'rt kind.
- THIRD WITCH. And I another.
- FIRST WITCH. I myself have all the other,
- And the very ports they blow,
- All the quarters that they know
- I' the shipman's card.
- I will drain him dry as hay:
- Sleep shall neither night nor day
- Hang upon his penthouse lid;
- He shall live a man forbid.
- Weary se'nnights nine times nine
- Shall he dwindle, peak, and pine;
- Though his bark cannot be lost,
- Yet it shall be tempest-toss'd.
- Look what I have.
- SECOND WITCH. Show me, show me.
- FIRST WITCH. Here I have a pilot's thumb,
- Wreck'd as homeward he did come. Drum within.
- THIRD WITCH. A drum, a drum!
- Macbeth doth come.
- ALL. The weird sisters, hand in hand,
- Posters of the sea and land,
- Thus do go about, about,
- Thrice to thine, and thrice to mine,
- And thrice again, to make up nine.
- Peace! The charm's wound up.
-
- Enter Macbeth and Banquo.
-
- MACBETH. So foul and fair a day I have not seen.
- BANQUO. How far is't call'd to Forres? What are these
- So wither'd and so wild in their attire,
- That look not like the inhabitants o' the earth,
- And yet are on't? Live you? or are you aught
- That man may question? You seem to understand me,
- By each at once her choppy finger laying
- Upon her skinny lips. You should be women,
- And yet your beards forbid me to interpret
- That you are so.
- MACBETH. Speak, if you can. What are you?
- FIRST WITCH. All hail, Macbeth, hail to thee, Thane of Glamis!
- SECOND WITCH. All hail, Macbeth, hail to thee, Thane of Cawdor!
- THIRD WITCH. All hail, Macbeth, that shalt be King hereafter!
- BANQUO. Good sir, why do you start, and seem to fear
- Things that do sound so fair? I' the name of truth,
- Are ye fantastical or that indeed
- Which outwardly ye show? My noble partner
- You greet with present grace and great prediction
- Of noble having and of royal hope,
- That he seems rapt withal. To me you speak not.
- If you can look into the seeds of time,
- And say which grain will grow and which will not,
- Speak then to me, who neither beg nor fear
- Your favors nor your hate.
- FIRST WITCH. Hail!
- SECOND WITCH. Hail!
- THIRD WITCH. Hail!
- FIRST WITCH. Lesser than Macbeth, and greater.
- SECOND WITCH. Not so happy, yet much happier.
- THIRD WITCH. Thou shalt get kings, though thou be none.
- So all hail, Macbeth and Banquo!
- FIRST WITCH. Banquo and Macbeth, all hail!
- MACBETH. Stay, you imperfect speakers, tell me more.
- By Sinel's death I know I am Thane of Glamis;
- But how of Cawdor? The Thane of Cawdor lives,
- A prosperous gentleman; and to be King
- Stands not within the prospect of belief,
- No more than to be Cawdor. Say from whence
- You owe this strange intelligence, or why
- Upon this blasted heath you stop our way
- With such prophetic greeting? Speak, I charge you.
- Witches vanish.
- BANQUO. The earth hath bubbles as the water has,
- And these are of them. Whither are they vanish'd?
- MACBETH. Into the air, and what seem'd corporal melted
- As breath into the wind. Would they had stay'd!
- BANQUO. Were such things here as we do speak about?
- Or have we eaten on the insane root
- That takes the reason prisoner?
- MACBETH. Your children shall be kings.
- BANQUO. You shall be King.
- MACBETH. And Thane of Cawdor too. Went it not so?
- BANQUO. To the selfsame tune and words. Who's here?
-
- Enter Ross and Angus.
-
- ROSS. The King hath happily received, Macbeth,
- The news of thy success; and when he reads
- Thy personal venture in the rebels' fight,
- His wonders and his praises do contend
- Which should be thine or his. Silenced with that,
- In viewing o'er the rest o' the selfsame day,
- He finds thee in the stout Norweyan ranks,
- Nothing afeard of what thyself didst make,
- Strange images of death. As thick as hail
- Came post with post, and every one did bear
- Thy praises in his kingdom's great defense,
- And pour'd them down before him.
- ANGUS. We are sent
- To give thee, from our royal master, thanks;
- Only to herald thee into his sight,
- Not pay thee.
- ROSS. And for an earnest of a greater honor,
- He bade me, from him, call thee Thane of Cawdor.
- In which addition, hail, most worthy Thane,
- For it is thine.
- BANQUO. What, can the devil speak true?
- MACBETH. The Thane of Cawdor lives. Why do you dress me
- In borrow'd robes?
- ANGUS. Who was the Thane lives yet,
- But under heavy judgement bears that life
- Which he deserves to lose. Whether he was combined
- With those of Norway, or did line the rebel
- With hidden help and vantage, or that with both
- He labor'd in his country's wreck, I know not;
- But treasons capital, confess'd and proved,
- Have overthrown him.
- MACBETH. [Aside.] Glamis, and Thane of Cawdor!
- The greatest is behind. [To Ross and Angus] Thanks for your
- pains.
- [Aside to Banquo] Do you not hope your children shall be kings,
- When those that gave the Thane of Cawdor to me
- Promised no less to them?
- BANQUO. [Aside to Macbeth.] That, trusted home,
- Might yet enkindle you unto the crown,
- Besides the Thane of Cawdor. But 'tis strange;
- And oftentimes, to win us to our harm,
- The instruments of darkness tell us truths,
- Win us with honest trifles, to betray's
- In deepest consequence-
- Cousins, a word, I pray you.
- MACBETH. [Aside.] Two truths are told,
- As happy prologues to the swelling act
- Of the imperial theme-I thank you, gentlemen.
- [Aside.] This supernatural soliciting
- Cannot be ill, cannot be good. If ill,
- Why hath it given me earnest of success,
- Commencing in a truth? I am Thane of Cawdor.
- If good, why do I yield to that suggestion
- Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair
- And make my seated heart knock at my ribs,
- Against the use of nature? Present fears
- Are less than horrible imaginings:
- My thought, whose murther yet is but fantastical,
- Shakes so my single state of man that function
- Is smother'd in surmise, and nothing is
- But what is not.
- BANQUO. Look, how our partner's rapt.
- MACBETH. [Aside.] If chance will have me King, why, chance may
- crown me
- Without my stir.
- BANQUO. New honors come upon him,
- Like our strange garments, cleave not to their mould
- But with the aid of use.
- MACBETH. [Aside.] Come what come may,
- Time and the hour runs through the roughest day.
- BANQUO. Worthy Macbeth, we stay upon your leisure.
- MACBETH. Give me your favor; my dull brain was wrought
- With things forgotten. Kind gentlemen, your pains
- Are register'd where every day I turn
- The leaf to read them. Let us toward the King.
- Think upon what hath chanced, and at more time,
- The interim having weigh'd it, let us speak
- Our free hearts each to other.
- BANQUO. Very gladly.
- MACBETH. Till then, enough. Come, friends. Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-SCENE IV.
-Forres. The palace.
-
-Flourish. Enter Duncan, Malcolm, Donalbain, Lennox, and Attendants.
-
- DUNCAN. Is execution done on Cawdor? Are not
- Those in commission yet return'd?
- MALCOLM. My liege,
- They are not yet come back. But I have spoke
- With one that saw him die, who did report
- That very frankly he confess'd his treasons,
- Implored your Highness' pardon, and set forth
- A deep repentance. Nothing in his life
- Became him like the leaving it; he died
- As one that had been studied in his death,
- To throw away the dearest thing he owed
- As 'twere a careless trifle.
- DUNCAN. There's no art
- To find the mind's construction in the face:
- He was a gentleman on whom I built
- An absolute trust.
-
- Enter Macbeth, Banquo, Ross, and Angus.
-
- O worthiest cousin!
- The sin of my ingratitude even now
- Was heavy on me. Thou art so far before,
- That swiftest wing of recompense is slow
- To overtake thee. Would thou hadst less deserved,
- That the proportion both of thanks and payment
- Might have been mine! Only I have left to say,
- More is thy due than more than all can pay.
- MACBETH. The service and the loyalty lowe,
- In doing it, pays itself. Your Highness' part
- Is to receive our duties, and our duties
- Are to your throne and state, children and servants,
- Which do but what they should, by doing everything
- Safe toward your love and honor.
- DUNCAN. Welcome hither.
- I have begun to plant thee, and will labor
- To make thee full of growing. Noble Banquo,
- That hast no less deserved, nor must be known
- No less to have done so; let me infold thee
- And hold thee to my heart.
- BANQUO. There if I grow,
- The harvest is your own.
- DUNCAN. My plenteous joys,
- Wanton in fullness, seek to hide themselves
- In drops of sorrow. Sons, kinsmen, thanes,
- And you whose places are the nearest, know
- We will establish our estate upon
- Our eldest, Malcolm, whom we name hereafter
- The Prince of Cumberland; which honor must
- Not unaccompanied invest him only,
- But signs of nobleness, like stars, shall shine
- On all deservers. From hence to Inverness,
- And bind us further to you.
- MACBETH. The rest is labor, which is not used for you.
- I'll be myself the harbinger, and make joyful
- The hearing of my wife with your approach;
- So humbly take my leave.
- DUNCAN. My worthy Cawdor!
- MACBETH. [Aside.] The Prince of Cumberland! That is a step
- On which I must fall down, or else o'erleap,
- For in my way it lies. Stars, hide your fires;
- Let not light see my black and deep desires.
- The eye wink at the hand; yet let that be
- Which the eye fears, when it is done, to see. Exit.
- DUNCAN. True, worthy Banquo! He is full so valiant,
- And in his commendations I am fed;
- It is a banquet to me. Let's after him,
- Whose care is gone before to bid us welcome.
- It is a peerless kinsman. Flourish. Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-SCENE V.
-Inverness. Macbeth's castle.
-
-Enter Lady Macbeth, reading a letter.
-
- LADY MACBETH. "They met me in the day of success, and I have
- learned by the perfectest report they have more in them than
- mortal knowledge. When I burned in desire to question them
- further, they made themselves air, into which they vanished.
- Whiles I stood rapt in the wonder of it, came missives from the
- King, who all-hailed me 'Thane of Cawdor'; by which title,
- before, these weird sisters saluted me and referred me to the
- coming on of time with 'Hail, King that shalt be!' This have I
- thought good to deliver thee, my dearest partner of greatness,
- that thou mightst not lose the dues of rejoicing, by being
- ignorant of what greatness is promised thee. Lay it to thy heart,
- and farewell."
-
- Glamis thou art, and Cawdor, and shalt be
- What thou art promised. Yet do I fear thy nature.
- It is too full o' the milk of human kindness
- To catch the nearest way. Thou wouldst be great;
- Art not without ambition, but without
- The illness should attend it. What thou wouldst highly,
- That wouldst thou holily; wouldst not play false,
- And yet wouldst wrongly win. Thou'ldst have, great Glamis,
- That which cries, "Thus thou must do, if thou have it;
- And that which rather thou dost fear to do
- Than wishest should be undone." Hie thee hither,
- That I may pour my spirits in thine ear,
- And chastise with the valor of my tongue
- All that impedes thee from the golden round,
- Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem
- To have thee crown'd withal.
-
- Enter a Messenger.
-
- What is your tidings?
- MESSENGER. The King comes here tonight.
- LADY MACBETH. Thou'rt mad to say it!
- Is not thy master with him? who, were't so,
- Would have inform'd for preparation.
- MESSENGER. So please you, it is true; our Thane is coming.
- One of my fellows had the speed of him,
- Who, almost dead for breath, had scarcely more
- Than would make up his message.
- LADY MACBETH. Give him tending;
- He brings great news. Exit Messenger.
- The raven himself is hoarse
- That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan
- Under my battlements. Come, you spirits
- That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here
- And fill me from the crown to the toe top-full
- Of direst cruelty! Make thick my blood,
- Stop up the access and passage to remorse,
- That no compunctious visitings of nature
- Shake my fell purpose nor keep peace between
- The effect and it! Come to my woman's breasts,
- And take my milk for gall, your murthering ministers,
- Wherever in your sightless substances
- You wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick night,
- And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell
- That my keen knife see not the wound it makes
- Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark
- To cry, "Hold, hold!"
-
- Enter Macbeth.
-
- Great Glamis! Worthy Cawdor!
- Greater than both, by the all-hail hereafter!
- Thy letters have transported me beyond
- This ignorant present, and I feel now
- The future in the instant.
- MACBETH. My dearest love,
- Duncan comes here tonight.
- LADY MACBETH. And when goes hence?
- MACBETH. Tomorrow, as he purposes.
- LADY MACBETH. O, never
- Shall sun that morrow see!
- Your face, my Thane, is as a book where men
- May read strange matters. To beguile the time,
- Look like the time; bear welcome in your eye,
- Your hand, your tongue; look like the innocent flower,
- But be the serpent under it. He that's coming
- Must be provided for; and you shall put
- This night's great business into my dispatch,
- Which shall to all our nights and days to come
- Give solely sovereign sway and masterdom.
- MACBETH. We will speak further.
- LADY MACBETH. Only look up clear;
- To alter favor ever is to fear.
- Leave all the rest to me. Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-SCENE VI.
-Before Macbeth's castle. Hautboys and torches.
-
-Enter Duncan, Malcolm, Donalbain, Banquo, Lennox, Macduff, Ross, Angus,
-and Attendants.
-
- DUNCAN. This castle hath a pleasant seat; the air
- Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself
- Unto our gentle senses.
- BANQUO. This guest of summer,
- The temple-haunting martlet, does approve
- By his loved mansionry that the heaven's breath
- Smells wooingly here. No jutty, frieze,
- Buttress, nor coign of vantage, but this bird
- Hath made his pendant bed and procreant cradle;
- Where they most breed and haunt, I have observed
- The air is delicate.
-
- Enter Lady Macbeth.
-
- DUNCAN. See, see, our honor'd hostess!
- The love that follows us sometime is our trouble,
- Which still we thank as love. Herein I teach you
- How you shall bid God 'ield us for your pains,
- And thank us for your trouble.
- LADY MACBETH. All our service
- In every point twice done, and then done double,
- Were poor and single business to contend
- Against those honors deep and broad wherewith
- Your Majesty loads our house. For those of old,
- And the late dignities heap'd up to them,
- We rest your hermits.
- DUNCAN. Where's the Thane of Cawdor?
- We coursed him at the heels and had a purpose
- To be his purveyor; but he rides well,
- And his great love, sharp as his spur, hath holp him
- To his home before us. Fair and noble hostess,
- We are your guest tonight.
- LADY MACBETH. Your servants ever
- Have theirs, themselves, and what is theirs, in compt,
- To make their audit at your Highness' pleasure,
- Still to return your own.
- DUNCAN. Give me your hand;
- Conduct me to mine host. We love him highly,
- And shall continue our graces towards him.
- By your leave, hostess. Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-SCENE VII
-Macbeth's castle. Hautboys and torches.
-
-Enter a Sewer and divers Servants with dishes and service, who pass over
-the stage. Then enter Macbeth.
-
- MACBETH. If it were done when 'tis done, then 'twere well
- It were done quickly. If the assassination
- Could trammel up the consequence, and catch,
- With his surcease, success; that but this blow
- Might be the be-all and the end-all -here,
- But here, upon this bank and shoal of time,
- We'ld jump the life to come. But in these cases
- We still have judgement here, that we but teach
- Bloody instructions, which being taught return
- To plague the inventor. This even-handed justice
- Commends the ingredients of our poison'd chalice
- To our own lips. He's here in double trust:
- First, as I am his kinsman and his subject,
- Strong both against the deed; then, as his host,
- Who should against his murtherer shut the door,
- Not bear the knife myself. Besides, this Duncan
- Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been
- So clear in his great office, that his virtues
- Will plead like angels trumpet-tongued against
- The deep damnation of his taking-off,
- And pity, like a naked new-born babe
- Striding the blast, or heaven's cherubin horsed
- Upon the sightless couriers of the air,
- Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye,
- That tears shall drown the wind. I have no spur
- To prick the sides of my intent, but only
- Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself
- And falls on the other.
-
- Enter Lady Macbeth.
-
- How now, what news?
- LADY MACBETH. He has almost supp'd. Why have you left the chamber?
- MACBETH. Hath he ask'd for me?
- LADY MACBETH. Know you not he has?
- MACBETH. We will proceed no further in this business:
- He hath honor'd me of late, and I have bought
- Golden opinions from all sorts of people,
- Which would be worn now in their newest gloss,
- Not cast aside so soon.
- LADY MACBETH. Was the hope drunk
- Wherein you dress'd yourself? Hath it slept since?
- And wakes it now, to look so green and pale
- At what it did so freely? From this time
- Such I account thy love. Art thou afeard
- To be the same in thine own act and valor
- As thou art in desire? Wouldst thou have that
- Which thou esteem'st the ornament of life
- And live a coward in thine own esteem,
- Letting "I dare not" wait upon "I would"
- Like the poor cat i' the adage?
- MACBETH. Prithee, peace!
- I dare do all that may become a man;
- Who dares do more is none.
- LADY MACBETH. What beast wast then
- That made you break this enterprise to me?
- When you durst do it, then you were a man,
- And, to be more than what you were, you would
- Be so much more the man. Nor time nor place
- Did then adhere, and yet you would make both.
- They have made themselves, and that their fitness now
- Does unmake you. I have given suck and know
- How tender 'tis to love the babe that milks me-
- I would, while it was smiling in my face,
- Have pluck'd my nipple from his boneless gums
- And dash'd the brains out had I so sworn as you
- Have done to this.
- MACBETH. If we should fail?
- LADY MACBETH. We fail?
- But screw your courage to the sticking-place
- And we'll not fail. When Duncan is asleep-
- Whereto the rather shall his day's hard journey
- Soundly invite him- his two chamberlains
- Will I with wine and wassail so convince
- That memory, the warder of the brain,
- Shall be a fume and the receipt of reason
- A limbeck only. When in swinish sleep
- Their drenched natures lie as in a death,
- What cannot you and I perform upon
- The unguarded Duncan? What not put upon
- His spongy officers, who shall bear the guilt
- Of our great quell?
- MACBETH. Bring forth men-children only,
- For thy undaunted mettle should compose
- Nothing but males. Will it not be received,
- When we have mark'd with blood those sleepy two
- Of his own chamber and used their very daggers,
- That they have done't?
- LADY MACBETH. Who dares receive it other,
- As we shall make our griefs and clamor roar
- Upon his death?
- MACBETH. I am settled and bend up
- Each corporal agent to this terrible feat.
- Away, and mock the time with fairest show:
- False face must hide what the false heart doth know.
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT II. SCENE I.
-Inverness. Court of Macbeth's castle.
-
-Enter Banquo and Fleance, bearing a torch before him.
-
- BANQUO. How goes the night, boy?
- FLEANCE. The moon is down; I have not heard the clock.
- BANQUO. And she goes down at twelve.
- FLEANCE. I take't 'tis later, sir.
- BANQUO. Hold, take my sword. There's husbandry in heaven,
- Their candles are all out. Take thee that too.
- A heavy summons lies like lead upon me,
- And yet I would not sleep. Merciful powers,
- Restrain in me the cursed thoughts that nature
- Gives way to in repose!
-
- Enter Macbeth and a Servant with a torch.
-
- Give me my sword.
- Who's there?
- MACBETH. A friend.
- BANQUO. What, sir, not yet at rest? The King's abed.
- He hath been in unusual pleasure and
- Sent forth great largess to your offices.
- This diamond he greets your wife withal,
- By the name of most kind hostess, and shut up
- In measureless content.
- MACBETH. Being unprepared,
- Our will became the servant to defect,
- Which else should free have wrought.
- BANQUO. All's well.
- I dreamt last night of the three weird sisters:
- To you they have show'd some truth.
- MACBETH. I think not of them;
- Yet, when we can entreat an hour to serve,
- We would spend it in some words upon that business,
- If you would grant the time.
- BANQUO. At your kind'st leisure.
- MACBETH. If you shall cleave to my consent, when 'tis,
- It shall make honor for you.
- BANQUO. So I lose none
- In seeking to augment it, but still keep
- My bosom franchised and allegiance clear,
- I shall be counsel'd.
- MACBETH. Good repose the while.
- BANQUO. Thanks, sir, the like to you.
- Exeunt Banquo. and Fleance.
- MACBETH. Go bid thy mistress, when my drink is ready,
- She strike upon the bell. Get thee to bed. Exit Servant.
- Is this a dagger which I see before me,
- The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee.
- I have thee not, and yet I see thee still.
- Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible
- To feeling as to sight? Or art thou but
- A dagger of the mind, a false creation,
- Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?
- I see thee yet, in form as palpable
- As this which now I draw.
- Thou marshal'st me the way that I was going,
- And such an instrument I was to use.
- Mine eyes are made the fools o' the other senses,
- Or else worth all the rest. I see thee still,
- And on thy blade and dudgeon gouts of blood,
- Which was not so before. There's no such thing:
- It is the bloody business which informs
- Thus to mine eyes. Now o'er the one half-world
- Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse
- The curtain'd sleep; witchcraft celebrates
- Pale Hecate's offerings; and wither'd Murther,
- Alarum'd by his sentinel, the wolf,
- Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace,
- With Tarquin's ravishing strides, towards his design
- Moves like a ghost. Thou sure and firm-set earth,
- Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear
- Thy very stones prate of my whereabout,
- And take the present horror from the time,
- Which now suits with it. Whiles I threat, he lives;
- Words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives.
- A bell rings.
- I go, and it is done; the bell invites me.
- Hear it not, Duncan, for it is a knell
- That summons thee to heaven, or to hell. Exit.
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-The same.
-
-Enter Lady Macbeth.
-
- LADY MACBETH. That which hath made them drunk hath made me bold;
- What hath quench'd them hath given me fire. Hark! Peace!
- It was the owl that shriek'd, the fatal bellman,
- Which gives the stern'st good night. He is about it:
- The doors are open, and the surfeited grooms
- Do mock their charge with snores. I have drugg'd their possets
- That death and nature do contend about them,
- Whether they live or die.
- MACBETH. [Within.] Who's there' what, ho!
- LADY MACBETH. Alack, I am afraid they have awaked
- And 'tis not done. The attempt and not the deed
- Confounds us. Hark! I laid their daggers ready;
- He could not miss 'em. Had he not resembled
- My father as he slept, I had done't.
-
- Enter Macbeth,
-
- My husband!
- MACBETH. I have done the deed. Didst thou not hear a noise?
- LADY MACBETH. I heard the owl scream and the crickets cry.
- Did not you speak?
- MACBETH. When?
- LADY MACBETH. Now.
- MACBETH. As I descended?
- LADY MACBETH. Ay.
- MACBETH. Hark!
- Who lies i' the second chamber?
- LADY MACBETH. Donalbain.
- MACBETH. This is a sorry sight. [Looks on his hands.
- LADY MACBETH. A foolish thought, to say a sorry sight.
- MACBETH. There's one did laugh in 's sleep, and one cried,
- "Murther!"
- That they did wake each other. I stood and heard them,
- But they did say their prayers and address'd them
- Again to sleep.
- LADY MACBETH. There are two lodged together.
- MACBETH. One cried, "God bless us!" and "Amen" the other,
- As they had seen me with these hangman's hands.
- Listening their fear, I could not say "Amen,"
- When they did say, "God bless us!"
- LADY MACBETH. Consider it not so deeply.
- MACBETH. But wherefore could not I pronounce "Amen"?
- I had most need of blessing, and "Amen"
- Stuck in my throat.
- LADY MACBETH. These deeds must not be thought
- After these ways; so, it will make us mad.
- MACBETH. I heard a voice cry, "Sleep no more!
- Macbeth does murther sleep" -the innocent sleep,
- Sleep that knits up the ravel'd sleave of care,
- The death of each day's life, sore labor's bath,
- Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course,
- Chief nourisher in life's feast-
- LADY MACBETH. What do you mean?
- MACBETH. Still it cried, "Sleep no more!" to all the house;
- "Glamis hath murther'd sleep, and therefore Cawdor
- Shall sleep no more. Macbeth shall sleep no more."
- LADY MACBETH. Who was it that thus cried? Why, worthy Thane,
- You do unbend your noble strength, to think
- So brainsickly of things. Go, get some water
- And wash this filthy witness from your hand.
- Why did you bring these daggers from the place?
- They must lie there. Go carry them, and smear
- The sleepy grooms with blood.
- MACBETH. I'll go no more.
- I am afraid to think what I have done;
- Look on't again I dare not.
- LADY MACBETH. Infirm of purpose!
- Give me the daggers. The sleeping and the dead
- Are but as pictures; 'tis the eye of childhood
- That fears a painted devil. If he do bleed,
- I'll gild the faces of the grooms withal,
- For it must seem their guilt. Exit. Knocking within.
- MACBETH. Whence is that knocking?
- How is't with me, when every noise appals me?
- What hands are here? Ha, they pluck out mine eyes!
- Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood
- Clean from my hand? No, this my hand will rather
- The multitudinous seas incarnadine,
- Making the green one red.
-
- Re-enter Lady Macbeth.
-
- LADY MACBETH. My hands are of your color, but I shame
- To wear a heart so white. [Knocking within.] I hear knocking
- At the south entry. Retire we to our chamber.
- A little water clears us of this deed.
- How easy is it then! Your constancy
- Hath left you unattended. [Knocking within.] Hark, more knocking.
- Get on your nightgown, lest occasion call us
- And show us to be watchers. Be not lost
- So poorly in your thoughts.
- MACBETH. To know my deed, 'twere best not know myself.
- Knocking within.
- Wake Duncan with thy knocking! I would thou couldst!
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-The same.
-
-Enter a Porter. Knocking within.
-
- PORTER. Here's a knocking indeed! If a man were porter of Hell
- Gate, he should have old turning the key. [Knocking within.]
- Knock, knock, knock! Who's there, i' the name of Belzebub? Here's
- a farmer that hanged himself on th' expectation of plenty. Come
- in time! Have napkins enow about you; here you'll sweat fort.
- [Knocking within.] Knock, knock! Who's there, in th' other
- devil's name? Faith, here's an equivocator that could swear in
- both the scales against either scale, who committed treason
- enough for God's sake, yet could not equivocate to heaven. O,
- come in, equivocator. [Knocking within.] Knock, knock, knock!
- Who's there? Faith, here's an English tailor come hither, for
- stealing out of a French hose. Come in, tailor; here you may
- roast your goose. [Knocking within.] Knock, knock! Never at
- quiet! What are you? But this place is too cold for hell. I'll
- devil-porter it no further. I had thought to have let in some of
- all professions, that go the primrose way to the everlasting
- bonfire. [Knocking within.] Anon, anon! I pray you, remember the
- porter.
- Opens the gate.
-
- Enter Macduff and Lennox.
-
- MACDUFF. Was it so late, friend, ere you went to bed,
- That you do lie so late?
- PORTER. Faith, sir, we were carousing till the second cock; and
- drink, sir, is a great provoker of three things.
- MACDUFF. What three things does drink especially provoke?
- PORTER. Marry, sir, nose-painting, sleep, and urine. Lechery, sir,
- it provokes and unprovokes: it provokes the desire, but it takes
- away the performance. Therefore much drink may be said to be an
- equivocator with lechery: it makes him, and it mars him; it sets
- him on, and it takes him off; it persuades him and disheartens
- him; makes him stand to and not stand to; in conclusion,
- equivocates him in a sleep, and giving him the lie, leaves him.
- MACDUFF. I believe drink gave thee the lie last night.
- PORTER. That it did, sir, i' the very throat on me; but requited
- him for his lie, and, I think, being too strong for him, though
- he took up my legs sometime, yet I made shift to cast him.
- MACDUFF. Is thy master stirring?
-
- Enter Macbeth.
-
- Our knocking has awaked him; here he comes.
- LENNOX. Good morrow, noble sir.
- MACBETH. morrow, both.
- MACDUFF. Is the King stirring, worthy Thane?
- MACBETH. Not yet.
- MACDUFF. He did command me to call timely on him;
- I have almost slipp'd the hour.
- MACBETH. I'll bring you to him.
- MACDUFF. I know this is a joyful trouble to you,
- But yet 'tis one.
- MACBETH. The labor we delight in physics pain.
- This is the door.
- MACDUFF I'll make so bold to call,
- For 'tis my limited service. Exit.
- LENNOX. Goes the King hence today?
- MACBETH. He does; he did appoint so.
- LENNOX. The night has been unruly. Where we lay,
- Our chimneys were blown down, and, as they say,
- Lamentings heard i' the air, strange screams of death,
- And prophesying with accents terrible
- Of dire combustion and confused events
- New hatch'd to the woeful time. The obscure bird
- Clamor'd the livelong night. Some say the earth
- Was feverous and did shake.
- MACBETH. 'Twas a rough fight.
- LENNOX. My young remembrance cannot parallel
- A fellow to it.
-
- Re-enter Macduff.
-
- MACDUFF. O horror, horror, horror! Tongue nor heart
- Cannot conceive nor name thee.
- MACBETH. LENNOX. What's the matter?
- MACDUFF. Confusion now hath made his masterpiece.
- Most sacrilegious murther hath broke ope
- The Lord's anointed temple and stole thence
- The life o' the building.
- MACBETH. What is't you say? the life?
- LENNOX. Mean you his Majesty?
- MACDUFF. Approach the chamber, and destroy your sight
- With a new Gorgon. Do not bid me speak;
- See, and then speak yourselves.
- Exeunt Macbeth and Lennox.
- Awake, awake!
- Ring the alarum bell. Murther and treason!
- Banquo and Donalbain! Malcolm, awake!
- Shake off this downy sleep, death's counterfeit,
- And look on death itself! Up, up, and see
- The great doom's image! Malcolm! Banquo!
- As from your graves rise up, and walk like sprites
- To countenance this horror! Ring the bell. Bell rings.
-
- Enter Lady Macbeth.
-
- LADY MACBETH. What's the business,
- That such a hideous trumpet calls to parley
- The sleepers of the house? Speak, speak!
- MACDUFF. O gentle lady,
- 'Tis not for you to hear what I can speak:
- The repetition in a woman's ear
- Would murther as it fell.
-
- Enter Banquo.
-
- O Banquo, Banquo!
- Our royal master's murther'd.
- LADY MACBETH. Woe, alas!
- What, in our house?
- BANQUO. Too cruel anywhere.
- Dear Duff, I prithee, contradict thyself,
- And say it is not so.
-
- Re-enter Macbeth and Lennox, with Ross.
-
- MACBETH. Had I but died an hour before this chance,
- I had lived a blessed time, for from this instant
- There's nothing serious in mortality.
- All is but toys; renown and grace is dead,
- The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees
- Is left this vault to brag of.
-
- Enter Malcolm and Donalbain.
-
- DONALBAIN. What is amiss?
- MACBETH. You are, and do not know't.
- The spring, the head, the fountain of your blood
- Is stopped, the very source of it is stopp'd.
- MACDUFF. Your royal father's murther'd.
- MALCOLM. O, by whom?
- LENNOX. Those of his chamber, as it seem'd, had done't.
- Their hands and faces were all badged with blood;
- So were their daggers, which unwiped we found
- Upon their pillows.
- They stared, and were distracted; no man's life
- Was to be trusted with them.
- MACBETH. O, yet I do repent me of my fury,
- That I did kill them.
- MACDUFF. Wherefore did you so?
- MACBETH. Who can be wise, amazed, temperate and furious,
- Loyal and neutral, in a moment? No man.
- The expedition of my violent love
- Outrun the pauser reason. Here lay Duncan,
- His silver skin laced with his golden blood,
- And his gash'd stabs look'd like a breach in nature
- For ruin's wasteful entrance; there, the murtherers,
- Steep'd in the colors of their trade, their daggers
- Unmannerly breech'd with gore. Who could refrain,
- That had a heart to love, and in that heart
- Courage to make 's love known?
- LADY MACBETH. Help me hence, ho!
- MACDUFF. Look to the lady.
- MALCOLM. [Aside to Donalbain.] Why do we hold our tongues,
- That most may claim this argument for ours?
- DONALBAIN. [Aside to Malcolm.] What should be spoken here, where
- our fate,
- Hid in an auger hole, may rush and seize us?
- Let's away,
- Our tears are not yet brew'd.
- MALCOLM. [Aside to Donalbain.] Nor our strong sorrow
- Upon the foot of motion.
- BANQUO. Look to the lady.
- Lady Macbeth is carried out.
- And when we have our naked frailties hid,
- That suffer in exposure, let us meet
- And question this most bloody piece of work
- To know it further. Fears and scruples shake us.
- In the great hand of God I stand, and thence
- Against the undivulged pretense I fight
- Of treasonous malice.
- MACDUFF. And so do I.
- ALL. So all.
- MACBETH. Let's briefly put on manly readiness
- And meet i' the hall together.
- ALL. Well contented.
- Exeunt all but Malcolm and Donalbain.
- MALCOLM. What will you do? Let's not consort with them.
- To show an unfelt sorrow is an office
- Which the false man does easy. I'll to England.
- DONALBAIN. To Ireland, I; our separated fortune
- Shall keep us both the safer. Where we are
- There's daggers in men's smiles; the near in blood,
- The nearer bloody.
- MALCOLM. This murtherous shaft that's shot
- Hath not yet lighted, and our safest way
- Is to avoid the aim. Therefore to horse;
- And let us not be dainty of leave-taking,
- But shift away. There's warrant in that theft
- Which steals itself when there's no mercy left.
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-SCENE IV.
-Outside Macbeth's castle.
-
-Enter Ross with an Old Man.
-
- OLD MAN. Threescore and ten I can remember well,
- Within the volume of which time I have seen
- Hours dreadful and things strange, but this sore night
- Hath trifled former knowings.
- ROSS. Ah, good father,
- Thou seest the heavens, as troubled with man's act,
- Threaten his bloody stage. By the clock 'tis day,
- And yet dark night strangles the traveling lamp.
- Is't night's predominance, or the day's shame,
- That darkness does the face of earth entomb,
- When living light should kiss it?
- OLD MAN. 'Tis unnatural,
- Even like the deed that's done. On Tuesday last
- A falcon towering in her pride of place
- Was by a mousing owl hawk'd at and kill'd.
- ROSS. And Duncan's horses-a thing most strange and certain-
- Beauteous and swift, the minions of their race,
- Turn'd wild in nature, broke their stalls, flung out,
- Contending 'gainst obedience, as they would make
- War with mankind.
- OLD MAN. 'Tis said they eat each other.
- ROSS. They did so, to the amazement of mine eyes
- That look'd upon't.
-
- Enter Macduff.
-
- Here comes the good Macduff.
- How goes the world, sir, now?
- MACDUFF. Why, see you not?
- ROSS. Is't known who did this more than bloody deed?
- MACDUFF. Those that Macbeth hath slain.
- ROSS. Alas, the day!
- What good could they pretend?
- MACDUFF. They were suborn'd:
- Malcolm and Donalbain, the King's two sons,
- Are stol'n away and fled, which puts upon them
- Suspicion of the deed.
- ROSS. 'Gainst nature still!
- Thriftless ambition, that wilt ravin up
- Thine own life's means! Then 'tis most like
- The sovereignty will fall upon Macbeth.
- MACDUFF. He is already named, and gone to Scone
- To be invested.
- ROSS. Where is Duncan's body?
- MACDUFF. Carried to Colmekill,
- The sacred storehouse of his predecessors
- And guardian of their bones.
- ROSS. Will you to Scone?
- MACDUFF. No, cousin, I'll to Fife.
- ROSS. Well, I will thither.
- MACDUFF. Well, may you see things well done there.
- Adieu,
- Lest our old robes sit easier than our new!
- ROSS. Farewell, father.
- OLD MAN. God's benison go with you and with those
- That would make good of bad and friends of foes!
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT III. SCENE I.
-Forres. The palace.
-
-Enter Banquo.
-
- BANQUO. Thou hast it now: King, Cawdor, Glamis, all,
- As the weird women promised, and I fear
- Thou play'dst most foully for't; yet it was said
- It should not stand in thy posterity,
- But that myself should be the root and father
- Of many kings. If there come truth from them
- (As upon thee, Macbeth, their speeches shine)
- Why, by the verities on thee made good,
- May they not be my oracles as well
- And set me up in hope? But hush, no more.
-
- Sennet sounds. Enter Macbeth as King, Lady Macbeth
- as Queen, Lennox, Ross, Lords, Ladies, and Attendants.
-
- MACBETH. Here's our chief guest.
- LADY MACBETH. If he had been forgotten,
- It had been as a gap in our great feast
- And all thing unbecoming.
- MACBETH. Tonight we hold a solemn supper, sir,
- And I'll request your presence.
- BANQUO. Let your Highness
- Command upon me, to the which my duties
- Are with a most indissoluble tie
- Forever knit.
- MACBETH. Ride you this afternoon?
- BANQUO. Ay, my good lord.
- MACBETH. We should have else desired your good advice,
- Which still hath been both grave and prosperous
- In this day's council; but we'll take tomorrow.
- Is't far you ride'!
- BANQUO. As far, my lord, as will fill up the time
- 'Twixt this and supper. Go not my horse the better,
- I must become a borrower of the night
- For a dark hour or twain.
- MACBETH. Fail not our feast.
- BANQUO. My lord, I will not.
- MACBETH. We hear our bloody cousins are bestow'd
- In England and in Ireland, not confessing
- Their cruel parricide, filling their hearers
- With strange invention. But of that tomorrow,
- When therewithal we shall have cause of state
- Craving us jointly. Hie you to horse; adieu,
- Till you return at night. Goes Fleance with you?
- BANQUO. Ay, my good lord. Our time does call upon 's.
- MACBETH. I wish your horses swift and sure of foot,
- And so I do commend you to their backs.
- Farewell. Exit Banquo.
- Let every man be master of his time
- Till seven at night; to make society
- The sweeter welcome, we will keep ourself
- Till supper time alone. While then, God be with you!
- Exeunt all but Macbeth and an Attendant.
- Sirrah, a word with you. Attend those men
- Our pleasure?
- ATTENDANT. They are, my lord, without the palace gate.
- MACBETH. Bring them before us. Exit Attendant.
- To be thus is nothing,
- But to be safely thus. Our fears in Banquo.
- Stick deep, and in his royalty of nature
- Reigns that which would be fear'd. 'Tis much he dares,
- And, to that dauntless temper of his mind,
- He hath a wisdom that doth guide his valor
- To act in safety. There is none but he
- Whose being I do fear; and under him
- My genius is rebuked, as it is said
- Mark Antony's was by Caesar. He chid the sisters
- When first they put the name of King upon me
- And bade them speak to him; then prophet-like
- They hail'd him father to a line of kings.
- Upon my head they placed a fruitless crown
- And put a barren sceptre in my gripe,
- Thence to be wrench'd with an unlineal hand,
- No son of mine succeeding. If't be so,
- For Banquo's issue have I filed my mind,
- For them the gracious Duncan have I murther'd,
- Put rancors in the vessel of my peace
- Only for them, and mine eternal jewel
- Given to the common enemy of man,
- To make them kings -the seed of Banquo kings!
- Rather than so, come, Fate, into the list,
- And champion me to the utterance! Who's there?
-
- Re-enter Attendant, with two Murtherers.
-
- Now go to the door, and stay there till we call.
- Exit Attendant.
- Was it not yesterday we spoke together?
- FIRST MURTHERER. It was, so please your Highness.
- MACBETH. Well then, now
- Have you consider'd of my speeches? Know
- That it was he in the times past which held you
- So under fortune, which you thought had been
- Our innocent self? This I made good to you
- In our last conference, pass'd in probation with you:
- How you were borne in hand, how cross'd, the instruments,
- Who wrought with them, and all things else that might
- To half a soul and to a notion crazed
- Say, "Thus did Banquo."
- FIRST MURTHERER. You made it known to us.
- MACBETH. I did so, and went further, which is now
- Our point of second meeting. Do you find
- Your patience so predominant in your nature,
- That you can let this go? Are you so gospel'd,
- To pray for this good man and for his issue,
- Whose heavy hand hath bow'd you to the grave
- And beggar'd yours forever?
- FIRST MURTHERER. We are men, my liege.
- MACBETH. Ay, in the catalogue ye go for men,
- As hounds and greyhounds, mongrels, spaniels, curs,
- Shoughs, waterrugs, and demi-wolves are clept
- All by the name of dogs. The valued file
- Distinguishes the swift, the slow, the subtle,
- The housekeeper, the hunter, every one
- According to the gift which bounteous nature
- Hath in him closed, whereby he does receive
- Particular addition, from the bill
- That writes them all alike; and so of men.
- Now if you have a station in the file,
- Not i' the worst rank of manhood, say it,
- And I will put that business in your bosoms
- Whose execution takes your enemy off,
- Grapples you to the heart and love of us,
- Who wear our health but sickly in his life,
- Which in his death were perfect.
- SECOND MURTHERER. I am one, my liege,
- Whom the vile blows and buffets of the world
- Have so incensed that I am reckless what
- I do to spite the world.
- FIRST MURTHERER. And I another
- So weary with disasters, tugg'd with fortune,
- That I would set my life on any chance,
- To mend it or be rid on't.
- MACBETH. Both of you
- Know Banquo was your enemy.
- BOTH MURTHERERS. True, my lord.
- MACBETH. So is he mine, and in such bloody distance
- That every minute of his being thrusts
- Against my near'st of life; and though I could
- With barefaced power sweep him from my sight
- And bid my will avouch it, yet I must not,
- For certain friends that are both his and mine,
- Whose loves I may not drop, but wail his fall
- Who I myself struck down. And thence it is
- That I to your assistance do make love,
- Masking the business from the common eye
- For sundry weighty reasons.
- SECOND MURTHERER. We shall, my lord,
- Perform what you command us.
- FIRST MURTHERER. Though our lives-
- MACBETH. Your spirits shine through you. Within this hour at most
- I will advise you where to plant yourselves,
- Acquaint you with the perfect spy o' the time,
- The moment on't; fort must be done tonight
- And something from the palace (always thought
- That I require a clearness); and with him-
- To leave no rubs nor botches in the work-
- Fleance his son, that keeps him company,
- Whose absence is no less material to me
- Than is his father's, must embrace the fate
- Of that dark hour. Resolve yourselves apart;
- I'll come to you anon.
- BOTH MURTHERERS. We are resolved, my lord.
- MACBETH. I'll call upon you straight. Abide within.
- Exeunt Murtherers.
- It is concluded: Banquo, thy soul's flight,
- If it find heaven, must find it out tonight. Exit.
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-The palace.
-
-Enter Lady Macbeth and a Servant.
-
- LADY MACBETH. Is Banquo gone from court?
- SERVANT. Ay, madam, but returns again tonight.
- LADY MACBETH. Say to the King I would attend his leisure
- For a few words.
- SERVANT. Madam, I will. Exit.
- LADY MACBETH. Nought's had, all's spent,
- Where our desire is got without content.
- 'Tis safer to be that which we destroy
- Than by destruction dwell in doubtful joy.
-
- Enter Macbeth.
-
- How now, my lord? Why do you keep alone,
- Of sorriest fancies your companions making,
- Using those thoughts which should indeed have died
- With them they think on? Things without all remedy
- Should be without regard. What's done is done.
- MACBETH. We have scotch'd the snake, not kill'd it.
- She'll close and be herself, whilst our poor malice
- Remains in danger of her former tooth.
- But let the frame of things disjoint, both the worlds suffer,
- Ere we will eat our meal in fear and sleep
- In the affliction of these terrible dreams
- That shake us nightly. Better be with the dead,
- Whom we, to gain our peace, have sent to peace,
- Than on the torture of the mind to lie
- In restless ecstasy. Duncan is in his grave;
- After life's fitful fever he sleeps well.
- Treason has done his worst; nor steel, nor poison,
- Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing,
- Can touch him further.
- LADY MACBETH. Come on,
- Gentle my lord, sleek o'er your rugged looks;
- Be bright and jovial among your guests tonight.
- MACBETH. So shall I, love, and so, I pray, be you.
- Let your remembrance apply to Banquo;
- Present him eminence, both with eye and tongue:
- Unsafe the while, that we
- Must lave our honors in these flattering streams,
- And make our faces vizards to our hearts,
- Disguising what they are.
- LADY MACBETH. You must leave this.
- MACBETH. O, full of scorpions is my mind, dear wife!
- Thou know'st that Banquo and his Fleance lives.
- LADY MACBETH. But in them nature's copy's not eterne.
- MACBETH. There's comfort yet; they are assailable.
- Then be thou jocund. Ere the bat hath flown
- His cloister'd flight, ere to black Hecate's summons
- The shard-borne beetle with his drowsy hums
- Hath rung night's yawning peal, there shall be done
- A deed of dreadful note.
- LADY MACBETH. What's to be done?
- MACBETH. Be innocent of the knowledge, dearest chuck,
- Till thou applaud the deed. Come, seeling night,
- Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day,
- And with thy bloody and invisible hand
- Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond
- Which keeps me pale! Light thickens, and the crow
- Makes wing to the rooky wood;
- Good things of day begin to droop and drowse,
- Whiles night's black agents to their preys do rouse.
- Thou marvel'st at my words, but hold thee still:
- Things bad begun make strong themselves by ill.
- So, prithee, go with me. Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-A park near the palace.
-
-Enter three Murtherers.
-
- FIRST MURTHERER. But who did bid thee join with us?
- THIRD MURTHERER. Macbeth.
- SECOND MURTHERER. He needs not our mistrust, since he delivers
- Our offices and what we have to do
- To the direction just.
- FIRST MURTHERER. Then stand with us.
- The west yet glimmers with some streaks of day;
- Now spurs the lated traveler apace
- To gain the timely inn, and near approaches
- The subject of our watch.
- THIRD MURTHERER. Hark! I hear horses.
- BANQUO. [Within.] Give us a light there, ho!
- SECOND MURTHERER. Then 'tis he; the rest
- That are within the note of expectation
- Already are i' the court.
- FIRST MURTHERER. His horses go about.
- THIRD MURTHERER. Almost a mile, but he does usually-
- So all men do -from hence to the palace gate
- Make it their walk.
- SECOND MURTHERER. A light, a light!
-
- Enter Banquo, and Fleance with a torch.
-
- THIRD MURTHERER. 'Tis he.
- FIRST MURTHERER. Stand to't.
- BANQUO. It will be rain tonight.
- FIRST MURTHERER. Let it come down.
- They set upon Banquo.
- BANQUO. O, treachery! Fly, good Fleance, fly, fly, fly!
- Thou mayst revenge. O slave! Dies. Fleance escapes.
- THIRD MURTHERER. Who did strike out the light?
- FIRST MURTHERER. Wast not the way?
- THIRD MURTHERER. There's but one down; the son is fled.
- SECOND MURTHERER. We have lost
- Best half of our affair.
- FIRST MURTHERER. Well, let's away and say how much is done.
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-SCENE IV.
-A Hall in the palace. A banquet prepared.
-
-Enter Macbeth, Lady Macbeth, Ross, Lennox, Lords, and Attendants.
-
- MACBETH. You know your own degrees; sit down. At first
- And last the hearty welcome.
- LORDS. Thanks to your Majesty.
- MACBETH. Ourself will mingle with society
- And play the humble host.
- Our hostess keeps her state, but in best time
- We will require her welcome.
- LADY MACBETH. Pronounce it for me, sir, to all our friends,
- For my heart speaks they are welcome.
-
- Enter first Murtherer to the door.
-
- MACBETH. See, they encounter thee with their hearts' thanks.
- Both sides are even; here I'll sit i' the midst.
- Be large in mirth; anon we'll drink a measure
- The table round. [Approaches the door.] There's blood upon thy
- face.
- MURTHERER. 'Tis Banquo's then.
- MACBETH. 'Tis better thee without than he within.
- Is he dispatch'd?
- MURTHERER. My lord, his throat is cut; that I did for him.
- MACBETH. Thou art the best o' the cut-throats! Yet he's good
- That did the like for Fleance. If thou didst it,
- Thou art the nonpareil.
- MURTHERER. Most royal sir,
- Fleance is 'scaped.
- MACBETH. [Aside.] Then comes my fit again. I had else been perfect,
- Whole as the marble, founded as the rock,
- As broad and general as the casing air;
- But now I am cabin'd, cribb'd, confin'd, bound in
- To saucy doubts and fears -But Banquo's safe?
- MURTHERER. Ay, my good lord. Safe in a ditch he bides,
- With twenty trenched gashes on his head,
- The least a death to nature.
- MACBETH. Thanks for that.
- There the grown serpent lies; the worm that's fled
- Hath nature that in time will venom breed,
- No teeth for the present. Get thee gone. Tomorrow
- We'll hear ourselves again.
- Exit Murtherer.
- LADY MACBETH. My royal lord,
- You do not give the cheer. The feast is sold
- That is not often vouch'd, while 'tis amaking,
- 'Tis given with welcome. To feed were best at home;
- From thence the sauce to meat is ceremony;
- Meeting were bare without it.
- MACBETH. Sweet remembrancer!
- Now good digestion wait on appetite,
- And health on both!
- LENNOX. May't please your Highness sit.
-
- The Ghost of Banquo enters and sits in Macbeth's place.
-
- MACBETH. Here had we now our country's honor roof'd,
- Were the graced person of our Banquo present,
- Who may I rather challenge for unkindness
- Than pity for mischance!
- ROSS. His absence, sir,
- Lays blame upon his promise. Please't your Highness
- To grace us with your royal company?
- MACBETH. The table's full.
- LENNOX. Here is a place reserved, sir.
- MACBETH. Where?
- LENNOX. Here, my good lord. What is't that moves your Highness?
- MACBETH. Which of you have done this?
- LORDS. What, my good lord?
- MACBETH. Thou canst not say I did it; never shake
- Thy gory locks at me.
- ROSS. Gentlemen, rise; his Highness is well.
- LADY MACBETH. Sit, worthy friends; my lord is often thus,
- And hath been from his youth. Pray you, keep seat.
- The fit is momentary; upon a thought
- He will again be well. If much you note him,
- You shall offend him and extend his passion.
- Feed, and regard him not-Are you a man?
- MACBETH. Ay, and a bold one, that dare look on that
- Which might appal the devil.
- LADY MACBETH. O proper stuff!
- This is the very painting of your fear;
- This is the air-drawn dagger which you said
- Led you to Duncan. O, these flaws and starts,
- Impostors to true fear, would well become
- A woman's story at a winter's fire,
- Authorized by her grandam. Shame itself!
- Why do you make such faces? When all's done,
- You look but on a stool.
- MACBETH. Prithee, see there! Behold! Look! Lo! How say you?
- Why, what care I? If thou canst nod, speak too.
- If charnel houses and our graves must send
- Those that we bury back, our monuments
- Shall be the maws of kites. Exit Ghost.
- LADY MACBETH. What, quite unmann'd in folly?
- MACBETH. If I stand here, I saw him.
- LADY MACBETH. Fie, for shame!
- MACBETH. Blood hath been shed ere now, i' the olden time,
- Ere humane statute purged the gentle weal;
- Ay, and since too, murthers have been perform'd
- Too terrible for the ear. The time has been,
- That, when the brains were out, the man would die,
- And there an end; but now they rise again,
- With twenty mortal murthers on their crowns,
- And push us from our stools. This is more strange
- Than such a murther is.
- LADY MACBETH. My worthy lord,
- Your noble friends do lack you.
- MACBETH. I do forget.
- Do not muse at me, my most worthy friends.
- I have a strange infirmity, which is nothing
- To those that know me. Come, love and health to all;
- Then I'll sit down. Give me some wine, fill full.
- I drink to the general joy o' the whole table,
- And to our dear friend Banquo, whom we miss.
- Would he were here! To all and him we thirst,
- And all to all.
- LORDS. Our duties and the pledge.
-
- Re-enter Ghost.
-
- MACBETH. Avaunt, and quit my sight! Let the earth hide thee!
- Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold;
- Thou hast no speculation in those eyes
- Which thou dost glare with.
- LADY MACBETH. Think of this, good peers,
- But as a thing of custom. 'Tis no other,
- Only it spoils the pleasure of the time.
- MACBETH. What man dare, I dare.
- Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear,
- The arm'd rhinoceros, or the Hyrcan tiger;
- Take any shape but that, and my firm nerves
- Shall never tremble. Or be alive again,
- And dare me to the desert with thy sword.
- If trembling I inhabit then, protest me
- The baby of a girl. Hence, horrible shadow!
- Unreal mockery, hence! Exit Ghost.
- Why, so, being gone,
- I am a man again. Pray you sit still.
- LADY MACBETH. You have displaced the mirth, broke the good meeting,
- With most admired disorder.
- MACBETH. Can such things be,
- And overcome us like a summer's cloud,
- Without our special wonder? You make me strange
- Even to the disposition that I owe
- When now I think you can behold such sights
- And keep the natural ruby of your cheeks
- When mine is blanch'd with fear.
- ROSS. What sights, my lord?
- LADY MACBETH. I pray you, speak not; he grows worse and worse;
- Question enrages him. At once, good night.
- Stand not upon the order of your going,
- But go at once.
- LENNOX. Good night, and better health
- Attend his Majesty!
- LADY MACBETH. A kind good night to all!
- Exeunt all but Macbeth and Lady Macbeth.
- MACBETH. will have blood; they say blood will have blood.
- Stones have been known to move and trees to speak;
- Augures and understood relations have
- By maggot pies and choughs and rooks brought forth
- The secret'st man of blood. What is the night?
- LADY MACBETH. Almost at odds with morning, which is which.
- MACBETH. How say'st thou, that Macduff denies his person
- At our great bidding?
- LADY MACBETH. Did you send to him, sir?
- MACBETH. I hear it by the way, but I will send.
- There's not a one of them but in his house
- I keep a servant feed. I will tomorrow,
- And betimes I will, to the weird sisters.
- More shall they speak; for now I am bent to know,
- By the worst means, the worst. For mine own good
- All causes shall give way. I am in blood
- Stepp'd in so far that, should I wade no more,
- Returning were as tedious as go o'er.
- Strange things I have in head that will to hand,
- Which must be acted ere they may be scann'd.
- LADY MACBETH. You lack the season of all natures, sleep.
- MACBETH. Come, we'll to sleep. My strange and self-abuse
- Is the initiate fear that wants hard use.
- We are yet but young in deed. Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-SCENE V.
-A heath. Thunder.
-
-Enter the three Witches, meeting Hecate.
-
- FIRST WITCH. Why, how now, Hecate? You look angerly.
- HECATE. Have I not reason, beldams as you are,
- Saucy and overbold? How did you dare
- To trade and traffic with Macbeth
- In riddles and affairs of death,
- And I, the mistress of your charms,
- The close contriver of all harms,
- Was never call'd to bear my part,
- Or show the glory of our art?
- And, which is worse, all you have done
- Hath been but for a wayward son,
- Spiteful and wrathful, who, as others do,
- Loves for his own ends, not for you.
- But make amends now. Get you gone,
- And at the pit of Acheron
- Meet me i' the morning. Thither he
- Will come to know his destiny.
- Your vessels and your spells provide,
- Your charms and everything beside.
- I am for the air; this night I'll spend
- Unto a dismal and a fatal end.
- Great business must be wrought ere noon:
- Upon the corner of the moon
- There hangs a vaporous drop profound;
- I'll catch it ere it come to ground.
- And that distill'd by magic sleights
- Shall raise such artificial sprites
- As by the strength of their illusion
- Shall draw him on to his confusion.
- He shall spurn fate, scorn death, and bear
- His hopes 'bove wisdom, grace, and fear.
- And you all know security
- Is mortals' chiefest enemy.
- Music and a song within,
- "Come away, come away."
- Hark! I am call'd; my little spirit, see,
- Sits in a foggy cloud and stays for me. Exit.
- FIRST WITCH. Come, let's make haste; she'll soon be back again.
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-SCENE VI.
-Forres. The palace.
-
-Enter Lennox and another Lord.
-
- LENNOX. My former speeches have but hit your thoughts,
- Which can interpret farther; only I say
- Thing's have been strangely borne. The gracious Duncan
- Was pitied of Macbeth; marry, he was dead.
- And the right valiant Banquo walk'd too late,
- Whom, you may say, if't please you, Fleance kill'd,
- For Fleance fled. Men must not walk too late.
- Who cannot want the thought, how monstrous
- It was for Malcolm and for Donalbain
- To kill their gracious father? Damned fact!
- How it did grieve Macbeth! Did he not straight,
- In pious rage, the two delinquents tear
- That were the slaves of drink and thralls of sleep?
- Was not that nobly done? Ay, and wisely too,
- For 'twould have anger'd any heart alive
- To hear the men deny't. So that, I say,
- He has borne all things well; and I do think
- That, had he Duncan's sons under his key-
- As, an't please heaven, he shall not -they should find
- What 'twere to kill a father; so should Fleance.
- But, peace! For from broad words, and 'cause he fail'd
- His presence at the tyrant's feast, I hear,
- Macduff lives in disgrace. Sir, can you tell
- Where he bestows himself?
- LORD. The son of Duncan,
- From whom this tyrant holds the due of birth,
- Lives in the English court and is received
- Of the most pious Edward with such grace
- That the malevolence of fortune nothing
- Takes from his high respect. Thither Macduff
- Is gone to pray the holy King, upon his aid
- To wake Northumberland and warlike Siward;
- That by the help of these, with Him above
- To ratify the work, we may again
- Give to our tables meat, sleep to our nights,
- Free from our feasts and banquets bloody knives,
- Do faithful homage, and receive free honors-
- All which we pine for now. And this report
- Hath so exasperate the King that he
- Prepares for some attempt of war.
- LENNOX. Sent he to Macduff?
- LORD. He did, and with an absolute "Sir, not I,"
- The cloudy messenger turns me his back,
- And hums, as who should say, "You'll rue the time
- That clogs me with this answer."
- LENNOX. And that well might
- Advise him to a caution, to hold what distance
- His wisdom can provide. Some holy angel
- Fly to the court of England and unfold
- His message ere he come, that a swift blessing
- May soon return to this our suffering country
- Under a hand accursed!
- LORD. I'll send my prayers with him.
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
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-
-ACT IV. SCENE I.
-A cavern. In the middle, a boiling cauldron. Thunder.
-
-Enter the three Witches.
- FIRST WITCH. Thrice the brinded cat hath mew'd.
- SECOND WITCH. Thrice and once the hedge-pig whined.
- THIRD WITCH. Harpier cries, "'Tis time, 'tis time."
- FIRST WITCH. Round about the cauldron go;
- In the poison'd entrails throw.
- Toad, that under cold stone
- Days and nights has thirty-one
- Swelter'd venom sleeping got,
- Boil thou first i' the charmed pot.
- ALL. Double, double, toil and trouble;
- Fire burn and cauldron bubble.
- SECOND WITCH. Fillet of a fenny snake,
- In the cauldron boil and bake;
- Eye of newt and toe of frog,
- Wool of bat and tongue of dog,
- Adder's fork and blind-worm's sting,
- Lizard's leg and howlet's wing,
- For a charm of powerful trouble,
- Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.
- ALL. Double, double, toil and trouble;
- Fire burn and cauldron bubble.
- THIRD WITCH. Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf,
- Witch's mummy, maw and gulf
- Of the ravin'd salt-sea shark,
- Root of hemlock digg'd i' the dark,
- Liver of blaspheming Jew,
- Gall of goat and slips of yew
- Sliver'd in the moon's eclipse,
- Nose of Turk and Tartar's lips,
- Finger of birth-strangled babe
- Ditch-deliver'd by a drab,
- Make the gruel thick and slab.
- Add thereto a tiger's chawdron,
- For the ingredients of our cawdron.
- ALL. Double, double, toil and trouble;
- Fire burn and cauldron bubble.
- SECOND WITCH. Cool it with a baboon's blood,
- Then the charm is firm and good.
-
- Enter Hecate to the other three Witches.
-
- HECATE. O, well done! I commend your pains,
- And everyone shall share i' the gains.
- And now about the cauldron sing,
- Like elves and fairies in a ring,
- Enchanting all that you put in.
- Music and a song, "Black spirits."
- Hecate retires.
- SECOND WITCH. By the pricking of my thumbs,
- Something wicked this way comes.
- Open, locks,
- Whoever knocks!
-
- Enter Macbeth.
-
- MACBETH. How now, you secret, black, and midnight hags?
- What is't you do?
- ALL. A deed without a name.
- MACBETH. I conjure you, by that which you profess
- (Howeer you come to know it) answer me:
- Though you untie the winds and let them fight
- Against the churches, though the yesty waves
- Confound and swallow navigation up,
- Though bladed corn be lodged and trees blown down,
- Though castles topple on their warders' heads,
- Though palaces and pyramids do slope
- Their heads to their foundations, though the treasure
- Of nature's germaines tumble all together
- Even till destruction sicken, answer me
- To what I ask you.
- FIRST WITCH. Speak.
- SECOND WITCH. Demand.
- THIRD WITCH. We'll answer.
- FIRST WITCH. Say, if thou'dst rather hear it from our mouths,
- Or from our masters'?
- MACBETH. Call 'em, let me see 'em.
- FIRST WITCH. Pour in sow's blood that hath eaten
- Her nine farrow; grease that's sweaten
- From the murtherer's gibbet throw
- Into the flame.
- ALL. Come, high or low;
- Thyself and office deftly show!
-
- Thunder. First Apparition: an armed Head.
-
- MACBETH. Tell me, thou unknown power-
- FIRST WITCH. He knows thy thought:
- Hear his speech, but say thou nought.
- FIRST APPARITION. Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth! Beware Macduff,
- Beware the Thane of Fife. Dismiss me. Enough.
- Descends.
- MACBETH. Whate'er thou art, for thy good caution, thanks;
- Thou hast harp'd my fear aright. But one word more-
- FIRST WITCH. He will not be commanded. Here's another,
- More potent than the first.
-
- Thunder. Second Apparition: a bloody Child.
-
- SECOND APPARITION. Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth!
- MACBETH. Had I three ears, I'd hear thee.
- SECOND APPARITION. Be bloody, bold, and resolute: laugh to scorn
- The power of man, for none of woman born
- Shall harm Macbeth. Descends.
- MACBETH. Then live, Macduff. What need I fear of thee?
- But yet I'll make assurance double sure,
- And take a bond of fate: thou shalt not live,
- That I may tell pale-hearted fear it lies,
- And sleep in spite of thunder.
-
- Thunder. Third Apparition: a Child crowned,
- with a tree in his hand.
-
- What is this,
- That rises like the issue of a king,
- And wears upon his baby brow the round
- And top of sovereignty?
- ALL. Listen, but speak not to't.
- THIRD APPARITION. Be lion-mettled, proud, and take no care
- Who chafes, who frets, or where conspirers are.
- Macbeth shall never vanquish'd be until
- Great Birnam Wood to high Dunsinane Hill
- Shall come against him. Descends.
- MACBETH. That will never be.
- Who can impress the forest, bid the tree
- Unfix his earth-bound root? Sweet bodements, good!
- Rebellion's head, rise never till the Wood
- Of Birnam rise, and our high-placed Macbeth
- Shall live the lease of nature, pay his breath
- To time and mortal custom. Yet my heart
- Throbs to know one thing: tell me, if your art
- Can tell so much, shall Banquo's issue ever
- Reign in this kingdom?
- ALL. Seek to know no more.
- MACBETH. I will be satisfied! Deny me this,
- And an eternal curse fall on you! Let me know.
- Why sinks that cauldron, and what noise is this?
- Hautboys.
- FIRST WITCH. Show!
- SECOND WITCH. Show!
- THIRD. WITCH. Show!
- ALL. Show his eyes, and grieve his heart;
- Come like shadows, so depart!
-
- A show of eight Kings, the last with a glass in his hand;
- Banquo's Ghost following.
-
- MACBETH. Thou are too like the spirit of Banquo Down!
- Thy crown does sear mine eyeballs. And thy hair,
- Thou other gold-bound brow, is like the first.
- A third is like the former. Filthy hags!
- Why do you show me this? A fourth! Start, eyes!
- What, will the line stretch out to the crack of doom?
- Another yet! A seventh! I'll see no more!
- And yet the eighth appears, who bears a glass
- Which shows me many more; and some I see
- That twofold balls and treble sceptres carry.
- Horrible sight! Now I see 'tis true;
- For the blood-bolter'd Banquo smiles upon me,
- And points at them for his. What, is this so?
- FIRST WITCH. Ay, sir, all this is so. But why
- Stands Macbeth thus amazedly?
- Come,sisters, cheer we up his sprites,
- And show the best of our delights.
- I'll charm the air to give a sound,
- While you perform your antic round,
- That this great King may kindly say
- Our duties did his welcome pay.
- Music. The Witches dance and
- then vanish with Hecate.
- MACBETH. are they? Gone? Let this pernicious hour
- Stand ay accursed in the calendar!
- Come in, without there!
-
- Enter Lennox.
-
- LENNOX. What's your Grace's will?
- MACBETH. Saw you the weird sisters?
- LENNOX. No, my lord.
- MACBETH. Came they not by you?
- LENNOX. No indeed, my lord.
- MACBETH. Infected be the 'air whereon they ride,
- And damn'd all those that trust them! I did hear
- The galloping of horse. Who wast came by?
- LENNOX. 'Tis two or three, my lord, that bring you word
- Macduff is fled to England.
- MACBETH. Fled to England?
- LENNOX. Ay, my good lord.
- MACBETH. [Aside.] Time, thou anticipatest my dread exploits.
- The flighty purpose never is o'ertook
- Unless the deed go with it. From this moment
- The very firstlings of my heart shall be
- The firstlings of my hand. And even now,
- To crown my thoughts with acts, be it thought and done:
- The castle of Macduff I will surprise,
- Seize upon Fife, give to the edge o' the sword
- His wife, his babes, and all unfortunate souls
- That trace him in his line. No boasting like a fool;
- This deed I'll do before this purpose cool.
- But no more sights! -Where are these gentlemen?
- Come, bring me where they are. Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-Fife. Macduff's castle.
-
-Enter Lady Macduff, her Son, and Ross.
-
- LADY MACDUFF. What had he done, to make him fly the land?
- ROSS. You must have patience, madam.
- LADY MACDUFF. He had none;
- His flight was madness. When our actions do not,
- Our fears do make us traitors.
- ROSS. You know not
- Whether it was his wisdom or his fear.
- LADY MACDUFF. Wisdom? To leave his wife, to leave his babes,
- His mansion, and his titles, in a place
- From whence himself does fly? He loves us not;
- He wants the natural touch; for the poor wren,
- The most diminutive of birds, will fight,
- Her young ones in her nest, against the owl.
- All is the fear and nothing is the love;
- As little is the wisdom, where the flight
- So runs against all reason.
- ROSS. My dearest coz,
- I pray you, school yourself. But for your husband,
- He is noble, wise, Judicious, and best knows
- The fits o' the season. I dare not speak much further;
- But cruel are the times when we are traitors
- And do not know ourselves; when we hold rumor
- From what we fear, yet know not what we fear,
- But float upon a wild and violent sea
- Each way and move. I take my leave of you;
- Shall not be long but I'll be here again.
- Things at the worst will cease or else climb upward
- To what they were before. My pretty cousin,
- Blessing upon you!
- LADY MACDUFF. Father'd he is, and yet he's fatherless.
- ROSS. I am so much a fool, should I stay longer,
- It would be my disgrace and your discomfort.
- I take my leave at once. Exit.
- LADY MACDUFF. Sirrah, your father's dead.
- And what will you do now? How will you live?
- SON. As birds do, Mother.
- LADY MACDUFF. What, with worms and flies?
- SON. With what I get, I mean; and so do they.
- LADY MACDUFF. Poor bird! Thou'ldst never fear the net nor lime,
- The pitfall nor the gin.
- SON. Why should I, Mother? Poor birds they are not set for.
- My father is not dead, for all your saying.
- LADY MACDUFF. Yes, he is dead. How wilt thou do for father?
- SON. Nay, how will you do for a husband?
- LADY MACDUFF. Why, I can buy me twenty at any market.
- SON. Then you'll buy 'em to sell again.
- LADY MACDUFF. Thou speak'st with all thy wit, and yet, i' faith,
- With wit enough for thee.
- SON. Was my father a traitor, Mother?
- LADY MACDUFF. Ay, that he was.
- SON. What is a traitor?
- LADY MACDUFF. Why one that swears and lies.
- SON. And be all traitors that do so?
- LADY MACDUFF. Everyone that does so is a traitor and must be
- hanged.
- SON. And must they all be hanged that swear and lie?
- LADY MACDUFF. Everyone.
- SON. Who must hang them?
- LADY MACDUFF. Why, the honest men.
- SON. Then the liars and swearers are fools, for there are liars and
- swearers enow to beat the honest men and hang up them.
- LADY MACDUFF. Now, God help thee, poor monkey! But how wilt thou do
- for a father?
- SON. If he were dead, you'ld weep for him; if you would not, it
- were a good sign that I should quickly have a new father.
- LADY MACDUFF. Poor prattler, how thou talk'st!
-
- Enter a Messenger.
-
- MESSENGER. Bless you, fair dame! I am not to you known,
- Though in your state of honor I am perfect.
- I doubt some danger does approach you nearly.
- If you will take a homely man's advice,
- Be not found here; hence, with your little ones.
- To fright you thus, methinks I am too savage;
- To do worse to you were fell cruelty,
- Which is too nigh your person. Heaven preserve you!
- I dare abide no longer. Exit.
- LADY MACDUFF. Whither should I fly?
- I have done no harm. But I remember now
- I am in this earthly world, where to do harm
- Is often laudable, to do good sometime
- Accounted dangerous folly. Why then, alas,
- Do I put up that womanly defense,
- To say I have done no harm -What are these faces?
-
- Enter Murtherers.
-
- FIRST MURTHERER. Where is your husband?
- LADY MACDUFF. I hope, in no place so unsanctified
- Where such as thou mayst find him.
- FIRST MURTHERER. He's a traitor.
- SON. Thou liest, thou shag-ear'd villain!
- FIRST MURTHERER. What, you egg!
- Stabs him.
- Young fry of treachery!
- SON. He has kill'd me, Mother.
- Run away, I pray you! Dies.
- Exit Lady Macduff, crying "Murther!"
- Exeunt Murtherers, following her.
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-England. Before the King's palace.
-
-Enter Malcolm and Macduff.
-
- MALCOLM. Let us seek out some desolate shade and there
- Weep our sad bosoms empty.
- MACDUFF. Let us rather
- Hold fast the mortal sword, and like good men
- Bestride our downfall'n birthdom. Each new morn
- New widows howl, new orphans cry, new sorrows
- Strike heaven on the face, that it resounds
- As if it felt with Scotland and yell'd out
- Like syllable of dolor.
- MALCOLM. What I believe, I'll wall;
- What know, believe; and what I can redress,
- As I shall find the time to friend, I will.
- What you have spoke, it may be so perchance.
- This tyrant, whose sole name blisters our tongues,
- Was once thought honest. You have loved him well;
- He hath not touch'd you yet. I am young, but something
- You may deserve of him through me, and wisdom
- To offer up a weak, poor, innocent lamb
- To appease an angry god.
- MACDUFF. I am not treacherous.
- MALCOLM. But Macbeth is.
- A good and virtuous nature may recoil
- In an imperial charge. But I shall crave your pardon;
- That which you are, my thoughts cannot transpose.
- Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell.
- Though all things foul would wear the brows of grace,
- Yet grace must still look so.
- MACDUFF. I have lost my hopes.
- MALCOLM. Perchance even there where I did find my doubts.
- Why in that rawness left you wife and child,
- Those precious motives, those strong knots of love,
- Without leave-taking? I pray you,
- Let not my jealousies be your dishonors,
- But mine own safeties. You may be rightly just,
- Whatever I shall think.
- MACDUFF. Bleed, bleed, poor country!
- Great tyranny, lay thou thy basis sure,
- For goodness dare not check thee. Wear thou thy wrongs;
- The title is affeer'd. Fare thee well, lord.
- I would not be the villain that thou think'st
- For the whole space that's in the tyrant's grasp
- And the rich East to boot.
- MALCOLM. Be not offended;
- I speak not as in absolute fear of you.
- I think our country sinks beneath the yoke;
- It weeps, it bleeds, and each new day a gash
- Is added to her wounds. I think withal
- There would be hands uplifted in my right;
- And here from gracious England have I offer
- Of goodly thousands. But for all this,
- When I shall tread upon the tyrant's head,
- Or wear it on my sword, yet my poor country
- Shall have more vices than it had before,
- More suffer and more sundry ways than ever,
- By him that shall succeed.
- MACDUFF. What should he be?
- MALCOLM. It is myself I mean, in whom I know
- All the particulars of vice so grafted
- That, when they shall be open'd, black Macbeth
- Will seem as pure as snow, and the poor state
- Esteem him as a lamb, being compared
- With my confineless harms.
- MACDUFF. Not in the legions
- Of horrid hell can come a devil more damn'd
- In evils to top Macbeth.
- MALCOLM. I grant him bloody,
- Luxurious, avaricious, false, deceitful,
- Sudden, malicious, smacking of every sin
- That has a name. But there's no bottom, none,
- In my voluptuousness. Your wives, your daughters,
- Your matrons, and your maids could not fill up
- The cestern of my lust, and my desire
- All continent impediments would o'erbear
- That did oppose my will. Better Macbeth
- Than such an one to reign.
- MACDUFF. Boundless intemperance
- In nature is a tyranny; it hath been
- The untimely emptying of the happy throne,
- And fall of many kings. But fear not yet
- To take upon you what is yours. You may
- Convey your pleasures in a spacious plenty
- And yet seem cold, the time you may so hoodwink.
- We have willing dames enough; there cannot be
- That vulture in you to devour so many
- As will to greatness dedicate themselves,
- Finding it so inclined.
- MALCOLM. With this there grows
- In my most ill-composed affection such
- A stanchless avarice that, were I King,
- I should cut off the nobles for their lands,
- Desire his jewels and this other's house,
- And my more-having would be as a sauce
- To make me hunger more, that I should forge
- Quarrels unjust against the good and loyal,
- Destroying them for wealth.
- MACDUFF. This avarice
- Sticks deeper, grows with more pernicious root
- Than summer-seeming lust, and it hath been
- The sword of our slain kings. Yet do not fear;
- Scotland hath foisons to fill up your will
- Of your mere own. All these are portable,
- With other graces weigh'd.
- MALCOLM. But I have none. The king-becoming graces,
- As justice, verity, temperance, stableness,
- Bounty, perseverance, mercy, lowliness,
- Devotion, patience, courage, fortitude,
- I have no relish of them, but abound
- In the division of each several crime,
- Acting it many ways. Nay, had I power, I should
- Pour the sweet milk of concord into hell,
- Uproar the universal peace, confound
- All unity on earth.
- MACDUFF. O Scotland, Scotland!
- MALCOLM. If such a one be fit to govern, speak.
- I am as I have spoken.
- MACDUFF. Fit to govern?
- No, not to live. O nation miserable!
- With an untitled tyrant bloody-scepter'd,
- When shalt thou see thy wholesome days again,
- Since that the truest issue of thy throne
- By his own interdiction stands accursed
- And does blaspheme his breed? Thy royal father
- Was a most sainted king; the queen that bore thee,
- Oftener upon her knees than on her feet,
- Died every day she lived. Fare thee well!
- These evils thou repeat'st upon thyself
- Have banish'd me from Scotland. O my breast,
- Thy hope ends here!
- MALCOLM. Macduff, this noble passion,
- Child of integrity, hath from my soul
- Wiped the black scruples, reconciled my thoughts
- To thy good truth and honor. Devilish Macbeth
- By many of these trains hath sought to win me
- Into his power, and modest wisdom plucks me
- From over-credulous haste. But God above
- Deal between thee and me! For even now
- I put myself to thy direction and
- Unspeak mine own detraction; here abjure
- The taints and blames I laid upon myself,
- For strangers to my nature. I am yet
- Unknown to woman, never was forsworn,
- Scarcely have coveted what was mine own,
- At no time broke my faith, would not betray
- The devil to his fellow, and delight
- No less in truth than life. My first false speaking
- Was this upon myself. What I am truly
- Is thine and my poor country's to command.
- Whither indeed, before thy here-approach,
- Old Siward, with ten thousand warlike men
- Already at a point, was setting forth.
- Now we'll together, and the chance of goodness
- Be like our warranted quarrel! Why are you silent?
- MACDUFF. Such welcome and unwelcome things at once
- 'Tis hard to reconcile.
-
- Enter a Doctor.
-
- MALCOLM. Well, more anon. Comes the King forth, I pray you?
- DOCTOR. Ay, sir, there are a crew of wretched souls
- That stay his cure. Their malady convinces
- The great assay of art, but at his touch,
- Such sanctity hath heaven given his hand,
- They presently amend.
- MALCOLM. I thank you, Doctor. Exit Doctor.
- MACDUFF. What's the disease he means?
- MALCOLM. 'Tis call'd the evil:
- A most miraculous work in this good King,
- Which often, since my here-remain in England,
- I have seen him do. How he solicits heaven,
- Himself best knows; but strangely-visited people,
- All swol'n and ulcerous, pitiful to the eye,
- The mere despair of surgery, he cures,
- Hanging a golden stamp about their necks
- Put on with holy prayers; and 'tis spoken,
- To the succeeding royalty he leaves
- The healing benediction. With this strange virtue
- He hath a heavenly gift of prophecy,
- And sundry blessings hang about his throne
- That speak him full of grace.
-
- Enter Ross.
-
- MACDUFF. See, who comes here?
- MALCOLM. My countryman, but yet I know him not.
- MACDUFF. My ever gentle cousin, welcome hither.
- MALCOLM. I know him now. Good God, betimes remove
- The means that makes us strangers!
- ROSS. Sir, amen.
- MACDUFF. Stands Scotland where it did?
- ROSS. Alas, poor country,
- Almost afraid to know itself! It cannot
- Be call'd our mother, but our grave. Where nothing,
- But who knows nothing, is once seen to smile;
- Where sighs and groans and shrieks that rend the air,
- Are made, not mark'd; where violent sorrow seems
- A modern ecstasy. The dead man's knell
- Is there scarce ask'd for who, and good men's lives
- Expire before the flowers in their caps,
- Dying or ere they sicken.
- MACDUFF. O, relation
- Too nice, and yet too true!
- MALCOLM. What's the newest grief?
- ROSS. That of an hour's age doth hiss the speaker;
- Each minute teems a new one.
- MACDUFF. How does my wife?
- ROSS. Why, well.
- MACDUFF. And all my children?
- ROSS. Well too.
- MACDUFF. The tyrant has not batter'd at their peace?
- ROSS. No, they were well at peace when I did leave 'em.
- MACDUFF. Be not a niggard of your speech. How goest?
- ROSS. When I came hither to transport the tidings,
- Which I have heavily borne, there ran a rumor
- Of many worthy fellows that were out,
- Which was to my belief witness'd the rather,
- For that I saw the tyrant's power afoot.
- Now is the time of help; your eye in Scotland
- Would create soldiers, make our women fight,
- To doff their dire distresses.
- MALCOLM. Be't their comfort
- We are coming thither. Gracious England hath
- Lent us good Siward and ten thousand men;
- An older and a better soldier none
- That Christendom gives out.
- ROSS. Would I could answer
- This comfort with the like! But I have words
- That would be howl'd out in the desert air,
- Where hearing should not latch them.
- MACDUFF. What concern they?
- The general cause? Or is it a fee-grief
- Due to some single breast?
- ROSS. No mind that's honest
- But in it shares some woe, though the main part
- Pertains to you alone.
- MACDUFF. If it be mine,
- Keep it not from me, quickly let me have it.
- ROSS. Let not your ears despise my tongue forever,
- Which shall possess them with the heaviest sound
- That ever yet they heard.
- MACDUFF. Humh! I guess at it.
- ROSS. Your castle is surprised; your wife and babes
- Savagely slaughter'd. To relate the manner
- Were, on the quarry of these murther'd deer,
- To add the death of you.
- MALCOLM. Merciful heaven!
- What, man! Neer pull your hat upon your brows;
- Give sorrow words. The grief that does not speak
- Whispers the o'erfraught heart, and bids it break.
- MACDUFF. My children too?
- ROSS. Wife, children, servants, all
- That could be found.
- MACDUFF. And I must be from thence!
- My wife kill'd too?
- ROSS. I have said.
- MALCOLM. Be comforted.
- Let's make us medicines of our great revenge,
- To cure this deadly grief.
- MACDUFF. He has no children. All my pretty ones?
- Did you say all? O hell-kite! All?
- What, all my pretty chickens and their dam
- At one fell swoop?
- MALCOLM. Dispute it like a man.
- MACDUFF. I shall do so,
- But I must also feel it as a man.
- I cannot but remember such things were
- That were most precious to me. Did heaven look on,
- And would not take their part? Sinful Macduff,
- They were all struck for thee! Naught that I am,
- Not for their own demerits, but for mine,
- Fell slaughter on their souls. Heaven rest them now!
- MALCOLM. Be this the whetstone of your sword. Let grief
- Convert to anger; blunt not the heart, enrage it.
- MACDUFF. O, I could play the woman with mine eyes
- And braggart with my tongue! But, gentle heavens,
- Cut short all intermission; front to front
- Bring thou this fiend of Scotland and myself;
- Within my sword's length set him; if he 'scape,
- Heaven forgive him too!
- MALCOLM. This tune goes manly.
- Come, go we to the King; our power is ready,
- Our lack is nothing but our leave. Macbeth
- Is ripe for shaking, and the powers above
- Put on their instruments. Receive what cheer you may,
- The night is long that never finds the day. Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
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-
-ACT V. SCENE I.
-Dunsinane. Anteroom in the castle.
-
-Enter a Doctor of Physic and a Waiting Gentlewoman.
-
- DOCTOR. I have two nights watched with you, but can perceive no
- truth in your report. When was it she last walked?
- GENTLEWOMAN. Since his Majesty went into the field, have seen her
- rise from her bed, throw her nightgown upon her, unlock her
- closet, take forth paper, fold it, write upon't, read it,
- afterwards seal it, and again return to bed; yet all this while
- in a most fast sleep.
- DOCTOR. A great perturbation in nature, to receive at once the
- benefit of sleep and do the effects of watching! In this slumbery
- agitation, besides her walking and other actual performances,
- what, at any time, have you heard her say?
- GENTLEWOMAN. That, sir, which I will not report after her.
- DOCTOR. You may to me, and 'tis most meet you should.
- GENTLEWOMAN. Neither to you nor anyone, having no witness to
- confirm my speech.
-
- Enter Lady Macbeth with a taper.
-
- Lo you, here she comes! This is her very guise, and, upon my
- life, fast asleep. Observe her; stand close.
- DOCTOR. How came she by that light?
- GENTLEWOMAN. Why, it stood by her. She has light by her
- continually; 'tis her command.
- DOCTOR. You see, her eyes are open.
- GENTLEWOMAN. Ay, but their sense is shut.
- DOCTOR. What is it she does now? Look how she rubs her hands.
- GENTLEWOMAN. It is an accustomed action with her, to seem thus
- washing her hands. I have known her continue in this a quarter of
- an hour.
- LADY MACBETH. Yet here's a spot.
- DOCTOR. Hark, she speaks! I will set down what comes from her, to
- satisfy my remembrance the more strongly.
- LADY MACBETH. Out, damned spot! Out, I say! One- two -why then 'tis
- time to do't. Hell is murky. Fie, my lord, fie! A soldier, and
- afeard? What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our
- power to account? Yet who would have thought the old man to have
- had so much blood in him?
- DOCTOR. Do you mark that?
- LADY MACBETH. The Thane of Fife had a wife; where is she now? What,
- will these hands neer be clean? No more o' that, my lord, no more
- o' that. You mar all with this starting.
- DOCTOR. Go to, go to; you have known what you should not.
- GENTLEWOMAN. She has spoke what she should not, I am sure of that.
- Heaven knows what she has known.
- LADY MACBETH. Here's the smell of the blood still. All the perfumes
- of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand. Oh, oh, oh!
- DOCTOR. What a sigh is there! The heart is sorely charged.
- GENTLEWOMAN. I would not have such a heart in my bosom for the
- dignity of the whole body.
- DOCTOR. Well, well, well-
- GENTLEWOMAN. Pray God it be, sir.
- DOCTOR. This disease is beyond my practice. Yet I have known those
- which have walked in their sleep who have died holily in their
- beds.
- LADY MACBETH. Wash your hands, put on your nightgown, look not so
- pale. I tell you yet again, Banquo's buried; he cannot come out
- on's grave.
- DOCTOR. Even so?
- LADY MACBETH. To bed, to bed; there's knocking at the gate. Come,
- come, come, come, give me your hand.What's done cannot be undone.
- To bed, to bed, to bed.
-Exit.
- DOCTOR. Will she go now to bed?
- GENTLEWOMAN. Directly.
- DOCTOR. Foul whisperings are abroad. Unnatural deeds
- Do breed unnatural troubles; infected minds
- To their deaf pillows will discharge their secrets.
- More needs she the divine than the physician.
- God, God, forgive us all! Look after her;
- Remove from her the means of all annoyance,
- And still keep eyes upon her. So good night.
- My mind she has mated and amazed my sight.
- I think, but dare not speak.
- GENTLEWOMAN. Good night, good doctor.
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-The country near Dunsinane. Drum and colors.
-
-Enter Menteith, Caithness, Angus, Lennox, and Soldiers.
-
- MENTEITH. The English power is near, led on by Malcolm,
- His uncle Siward, and the good Macduff.
- Revenges burn in them, for their dear causes
- Would to the bleeding and the grim alarm
- Excite the mortified man.
- ANGUS. Near Birnam Wood
- Shall we well meet them; that way are they coming.
- CAITHNESS. Who knows if Donalbain be with his brother?
- LENNOX. For certain, sir, he is not; I have a file
- Of all the gentry. There is Seward's son
- And many unrough youths that even now
- Protest their first of manhood.
- MENTEITH. What does the tyrant?
- CAITHNESS. Great Dunsinane he strongly fortifies.
- Some say he's mad; others, that lesser hate him,
- Do call it valiant fury; but, for certain,
- He cannot buckle his distemper'd cause
- Within the belt of rule.
- ANGUS. Now does he feel
- His secret murthers sticking on his hands,
- Now minutely revolts upbraid his faith-breach;
- Those he commands move only in command,
- Nothing in love. Now does he feel his title
- Hang loose about him, like a giant's robe
- Upon a dwarfish thief.
- MENTEITH. Who then shall blame
- His pester'd senses to recoil and start,
- When all that is within him does condemn
- Itself for being there?
- CAITHNESS. Well, march we on
- To give obedience where 'tis truly owed.
- Meet we the medicine of the sickly weal,
- And with him pour we, in our country's purge,
- Each drop of us.
- LENNOX. Or so much as it needs
- To dew the sovereign flower and drown the weeds.
- Make we our march towards Birnam. Exeunt marching.
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-Dunsinane. A room in the castle.
-
-Enter Macbeth, Doctor, and Attendants.
-
- MACBETH. Bring me no more reports; let them fly all!
- Till Birnam Wood remove to Dunsinane
- I cannot taint with fear. What's the boy Malcolm?
- Was he not born of woman? The spirits that know
- All mortal consequences have pronounced me thus:
- "Fear not, Macbeth; no man that's born of woman
- Shall e'er have power upon thee." Then fly, false Thanes,
- And mingle with the English epicures!
- The mind I sway by and the heart I bear
- Shall never sag with doubt nor shake with fear.
-
- Enter a Servant.
-
- The devil damn thee black, thou cream-faced loon!
- Where got'st thou that goose look?
- SERVANT. There is ten thousand-
- MACBETH. Geese, villain?
- SERVANT. Soldiers, sir.
- MACBETH. Go prick thy face and over-red thy fear,
- Thou lily-liver'd boy. What soldiers, patch?
- Death of thy soul! Those linen cheeks of thine
- Are counselors to fear. What soldiers, whey-face?
- SERVANT. The English force, so please you.
- MACBETH. Take thy face hence. Exit Servant.
- Seyton-I am sick at heart,
- When I behold- Seyton, I say!- This push
- Will cheer me ever or disseat me now.
- I have lived long enough. My way of life
- Is fall'n into the sear, the yellow leaf,
- And that which should accompany old age,
- As honor, love, obedience, troops of friends,
- I must not look to have; but in their stead,
- Curses, not loud but deep, mouth-honor, breath,
- Which the poor heart would fain deny and dare not.
- Seyton!
-
- Enter Seyton.
-
- SEYTON. What's your gracious pleasure?
- MACBETH. What news more?
- SEYTON. All is confirm'd, my lord, which was reported.
- MACBETH. I'll fight, 'til from my bones my flesh be hack'd.
- Give me my armor.
- SEYTON. 'Tis not needed yet.
- MACBETH. I'll put it on.
- Send out more horses, skirr the country round,
- Hang those that talk of fear. Give me mine armor.
- How does your patient, doctor?
- DOCTOR. Not so sick, my lord,
- As she is troubled with thick-coming fancies,
- That keep her from her rest.
- MACBETH. Cure her of that.
- Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased,
- Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow,
- Raze out the written troubles of the brain,
- And with some sweet oblivious antidote
- Cleanse the stuff'd bosom of that perilous stuff
- Which weighs upon the heart?
- DOCTOR. Therein the patient
- Must minister to himself.
- MACBETH. Throw physic to the dogs, I'll none of it.
- Come, put mine armor on; give me my staff.
- Seyton, send out. Doctor, the Thanes fly from me.
- Come, sir, dispatch. If thou couldst, doctor, cast
- The water of my land, find her disease
- And purge it to a sound and pristine health,
- I would applaud thee to the very echo,
- That should applaud again. Pull't off, I say.
- What rhubarb, cyme, or what purgative drug
- Would scour these English hence? Hearst thou of them?
- DOCTOR. Ay, my good lord, your royal preparation
- Makes us hear something.
- MACBETH. Bring it after me.
- I will not be afraid of death and bane
- Till Birnam Forest come to Dunsinane.
- DOCTOR. [Aside.] Were I from Dunsinane away and clear,
- Profit again should hardly draw me here. Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-SCENE IV.
-Country near Birnam Wood. Drum and colors.
-
-Enter Malcolm, old Seward and his Son, Macduff, Menteith, Caithness,
-Angus, Lennox, Ross, and Soldiers, marching.
-
- MALCOLM. Cousins, I hope the days are near at hand
- That chambers will be safe.
- MENTEITH. We doubt it nothing.
- SIWARD. What wood is this before us?
- MENTEITH. The Wood of Birnam.
- MALCOLM. Let every soldier hew him down a bough,
- And bear't before him; thereby shall we shadow
- The numbers of our host, and make discovery
- Err in report of us.
- SOLDIERS. It shall be done.
- SIWARD. We learn no other but the confident tyrant
- Keeps still in Dunsinane and will endure
- Our setting down before't.
- MALCOLM. 'Tis his main hope;
- For where there is advantage to be given,
- Both more and less have given him the revolt,
- And none serve with him but constrained things
- Whose hearts are absent too.
- MACDUFF. Let our just censures
- Attend the true event, and put we on
- Industrious soldiership.
- SIWARD. The time approaches
- That will with due decision make us know
- What we shall say we have and what we owe.
- Thoughts speculative their unsure hopes relate,
- But certain issue strokes must arbitrate.
- Towards which advance the war.
- Exeunt Marching.
-
-
-
-
-SCENE V.
-Dunsinane. Within the castle.
-
-Enter Macbeth, Seyton, and Soldiers, with drum and colors.
-
- MACBETH. Hang out our banners on the outward walls;
- The cry is still, "They come!" Our castle's strength
- Will laugh a siege to scorn. Here let them lie
- Till famine and the ague eat them up.
- Were they not forced with those that should be ours,
- We might have met them dareful, beard to beard,
- And beat them backward home.
- A cry of women within.
- What is that noise?
- SEYTON. It is the cry of women, my good lord. Exit.
- MACBETH. I have almost forgot the taste of fears:
- The time has been, my senses would have cool'd
- To hear a night-shriek, and my fell of hair
- Would at a dismal treatise rouse and stir
- As life were in't. I have supp'd full with horrors;
- Direness, familiar to my slaughterous thoughts,
- Cannot once start me.
-
- Re-enter Seyton.
- Wherefore was that cry?
- SEYTON. The Queen, my lord, is dead.
- MACBETH. She should have died hereafter;
- There would have been a time for such a word.
- Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow
- Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
- To the last syllable of recorded time;
- And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
- The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
- Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
- That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
- And then is heard no more. It is a tale
- Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
- Signifying nothing.
-
- Enter a Messenger.
-
- Thou comest to use thy tongue; thy story quickly.
- MESSENGER. Gracious my lord,
- I should report that which I say I saw,
- But know not how to do it.
- MACBETH. Well, say, sir.
- MESSENGER. As I did stand my watch upon the hill,
- I look'd toward Birnam, and anon, methought,
- The Wood began to move.
- MACBETH. Liar and slave!
- MESSENGER. Let me endure your wrath, if't be not so.
- Within this three mile may you see it coming;
- I say, a moving grove.
- MACBETH. If thou speak'st false,
- Upon the next tree shalt thou hang alive,
- Till famine cling thee; if thy speech be sooth,
- I care not if thou dost for me as much.
- I pull in resolution and begin
- To doubt the equivocation of the fiend
- That lies like truth. "Fear not, till Birnam Wood
- Do come to Dunsinane," and now a wood
- Comes toward Dunsinane. Arm, arm, and out!
- If this which he avouches does appear,
- There is nor flying hence nor tarrying here.
- I 'gin to be aweary of the sun
- And wish the estate o' the world were now undone.
- Ring the alarum bell! Blow, wind! Come, wrack!
- At least we'll die with harness on our back. Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-SCENE VI.
-Dunsinane. Before the castle.
-
-Enter Malcolm, old Siward, Macduff, and their Army, with boughs.
-Drum and colors.
-
- MALCOLM. Now near enough; your leavy screens throw down,
- And show like those you are. You, worthy uncle,
- Shall with my cousin, your right noble son,
- Lead our first battle. Worthy Macduff and we
- Shall take upon 's what else remains to do,
- According to our order.
- SIWARD. Fare you well.
- Do we but find the tyrant's power tonight,
- Let us be beaten if we cannot fight.
- MACDUFF. Make all our trumpets speak, give them all breath,
- Those clamorous harbingers of blood and death.
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-SCENE VII.
-Dunsinane. Before the castle. Alarums.
-
-Enter Macbeth.
-
- MACBETH. They have tied me to a stake; I cannot fly,
- But bear-like I must fight the course. What's he
- That was not born of woman? Such a one
- Am I to fear, or none.
-
- Enter young Siward.
-
- YOUNG SIWARD. What is thy name?
- MACBETH. Thou'lt be afraid to hear it.
- YOUNG SIWARD. No, though thou call'st thyself a hotter name
- Than any is in hell.
- MACBETH. My name's Macbeth.
- YOUNG SIWARD. The devil himself could not pronounce a title
- More hateful to mine ear.
- MACBETH. No, nor more fearful.
- YOUNG SIWARD O Thou liest, abhorred tyrant; with my sword
- I'll prove the lie thou speak'st.
- They fight, and young Seward is slain.
- MACBETH. Thou wast born of woman.
- But swords I smile at, weapons laugh to scorn,
- Brandish'd by man that's of a woman born. Exit.
-
- Alarums. Enter Macduff.
-
- MACDUFF. That way the noise is. Tyrant, show thy face!
- If thou best slain and with no stroke of mine,
- My wife and children's ghosts will haunt me still.
- I cannot strike at wretched kerns, whose arms
- Are hired to bear their staves. Either thou, Macbeth,
- Or else my sword, with an unbatter'd edge,
- I sheathe again undeeded. There thou shouldst be;
- By this great clatter, one of greatest note
- Seems bruited. Let me find him, Fortune!
- And more I beg not. Exit. Alarums.
-
- Enter Malcolm and old Siward.
-
- SIWARD. This way, my lord; the castle's gently render'd.
- The tyrant's people on both sides do fight,
- The noble Thanes do bravely in the war,
- The day almost itself professes yours,
- And little is to do.
- MALCOLM. We have met with foes
- That strike beside us.
- SIWARD. Enter, sir, the castle.
- Exeunt. Alarum.
-
-
-
-
-SCENE VIII.
-Another part of the field.
-
-Enter Macbeth.
-
- MACBETH. Why should I play the Roman fool and die
- On mine own sword? Whiles I see lives, the gashes
- Do better upon them.
-
- Enter Macduff.
-
- MACDUFF. Turn, hell hound, turn!
- MACBETH. Of all men else I have avoided thee.
- But get thee back, my soul is too much charged
- With blood of thine already.
- MACDUFF. I have no words.
- My voice is in my sword, thou bloodier villain
- Than terms can give thee out! They fight.
- MACBETH. Thou losest labor.
- As easy mayst thou the intrenchant air
- With thy keen sword impress as make me bleed.
- Let fall thy blade on vulnerable crests;
- I bear a charmed life, which must not yield
- To one of woman born.
- MACDUFF. Despair thy charm,
- And let the angel whom thou still hast served
- Tell thee, Macduff was from his mother's womb
- Untimely ripp'd.
- MACBETH. Accursed be that tongue that tells me so,
- For it hath cow'd my better part of man!
- And be these juggling fiends no more believed
- That patter with us in a double sense,
- That keep the word of promise to our ear
- And break it to our hope. I'll not fight with thee.
- MACDUFF. Then yield thee, coward,
- And live to be the show and gaze o' the time.
- We'll have thee, as our rarer monsters are,
- Painted upon a pole, and underwrit,
- "Here may you see the tyrant."
- MACBETH. I will not yield,
- To kiss the ground before young Malcolm's feet,
- And to be baited with the rabble's curse.
- Though Birnam Wood be come to Dunsinane,
- And thou opposed, being of no woman born,
- Yet I will try the last. Before my body
- I throw my warlike shield! Lay on, Macduff,
- And damn'd be him that first cries, "Hold, enough!"
- Exeunt fighting. Alarums.
-
-
-
-
-SCENE IX.
-
-Retreat. Flourish. Enter, with drum and colors, Malcolm, old Siward, Ross,
-the other Thanes, and Soldiers.
-
- MALCOLM. I would the friends we miss were safe arrived.
- SIWARD. Some must go off, and yet, by these I see,
- So great a day as this is cheaply bought.
- MALCOLM. Macduff is missing, and your noble son.
- ROSS. Your son, my lord, has paid a soldier's debt.
- He only lived but till he was a man,
- The which no sooner had his prowess confirm'd
- In the unshrinking station where he fought,
- But like a man he died.
- SIWARD. Then he is dead?
- ROSS. Ay, and brought off the field. Your cause of sorrow
- Must not be measured by his worth, for then
- It hath no end.
- SIWARD. Had he his hurts before?
- ROSS. Ay, on the front.
- SIWARD. Why then, God's soldier be he!
- Had I as many sons as I have hairs,
- I would not wish them to a fairer death.
- And so his knell is knoll'd.
- MALCOLM. He's worth more sorrow,
- And that I'll spend for him.
- SIWARD. He's worth no more:
- They say he parted well and paid his score,
- And so God be with him! Here comes newer comfort.
-
- Re-enter Macduff, with Macbeth's head.
-
- MACDUFF. Hail, King, for so thou art. Behold where stands
- The usurper's cursed head. The time is free.
- I see thee compass'd with thy kingdom's pearl
- That speak my salutation in their minds,
- Whose voices I desire aloud with mine-
- Hail, King of Scotland!
- ALL. Hail, King of Scotland! Flourish.
- MALCOLM. We shall not spend a large expense of time
- Before we reckon with your several loves
- And make us even with you. My Thanes and kinsmen,
- Henceforth be Earls, the first that ever Scotland
- In such an honor named. What's more to do,
- Which would be planted newly with the time,
- As calling home our exiled friends abroad
- That fled the snares of watchful tyranny,
- Producing forth the cruel ministers
- Of this dead butcher and his fiend-like queen,
- Who, as 'tis thought, by self and violent hands
- Took off her life; this, and what needful else
- That calls upon us, by the grace of Grace
- We will perform in measure, time, and place.
- So thanks to all at once and to each one,
- Whom we invite to see us crown'd at Scone.
- Flourish. Exeunt.
- -THE END-
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-
-
-1605
-
-
-MEASURE FOR MEASURE
-
-by William Shakespeare
-
-
-
-DRAMATIS PERSONAE
-
- VINCENTIO, the Duke
- ANGELO, the Deputy
- ESCALUS, an ancient Lord
- CLAUDIO, a young gentleman
- LUCIO, a fantastic
- Two other like Gentlemen
- VARRIUS, a gentleman, servant to the Duke
- PROVOST
- THOMAS, friar
- PETER, friar
- A JUSTICE
- ELBOW, a simple constable
- FROTH, a foolish gentleman
- POMPEY, a clown and servant to Mistress Overdone
- ABHORSON, an executioner
- BARNARDINE, a dissolute prisoner
-
- ISABELLA, sister to Claudio
- MARIANA, betrothed to Angelo
- JULIET, beloved of Claudio
- FRANCISCA, a nun
- MISTRESS OVERDONE, a bawd
-
- Lords, Officers, Citizens, Boy, and Attendants
-
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-SCENE:
-Vienna
-
-
-ACT I. SCENE I.
-The DUKE'S palace
-
-Enter DUKE, ESCALUS, LORDS, and ATTENDANTS
-
- DUKE. Escalus!
- ESCALUS. My lord.
- DUKE. Of government the properties to unfold
- Would seem in me t' affect speech and discourse,
- Since I am put to know that your own science
- Exceeds, in that, the lists of all advice
- My strength can give you; then no more remains
- But that to your sufficiency- as your worth is able-
- And let them work. The nature of our people,
- Our city's institutions, and the terms
- For common justice, y'are as pregnant in
- As art and practice hath enriched any
- That we remember. There is our commission,
- From which we would not have you warp. Call hither,
- I say, bid come before us, Angelo. Exit an ATTENDANT
- What figure of us think you he will bear?
- For you must know we have with special soul
- Elected him our absence to supply;
- Lent him our terror, dress'd him with our love,
- And given his deputation all the organs
- Of our own power. What think you of it?
- ESCALUS. If any in Vienna be of worth
- To undergo such ample grace and honour,
- It is Lord Angelo.
-
- Enter ANGELO
-
- DUKE. Look where he comes.
- ANGELO. Always obedient to your Grace's will,
- I come to know your pleasure.
- DUKE. Angelo,
- There is a kind of character in thy life
- That to th' observer doth thy history
- Fully unfold. Thyself and thy belongings
- Are not thine own so proper as to waste
- Thyself upon thy virtues, they on thee.
- Heaven doth with us as we with torches do,
- Not light them for themselves; for if our virtues
- Did not go forth of us, 'twere all alike
- As if we had them not. Spirits are not finely touch'd
- But to fine issues; nor Nature never lends
- The smallest scruple of her excellence
- But, like a thrifty goddess, she determines
- Herself the glory of a creditor,
- Both thanks and use. But I do bend my speech
- To one that can my part in him advertise.
- Hold, therefore, Angelo-
- In our remove be thou at full ourself;
- Mortality and mercy in Vienna
- Live in thy tongue and heart. Old Escalus,
- Though first in question, is thy secondary.
- Take thy commission.
- ANGELO. Now, good my lord,
- Let there be some more test made of my metal,
- Before so noble and so great a figure
- Be stamp'd upon it.
- DUKE. No more evasion!
- We have with a leaven'd and prepared choice
- Proceeded to you; therefore take your honours.
- Our haste from hence is of so quick condition
- That it prefers itself, and leaves unquestion'd
- Matters of needful value. We shall write to you,
- As time and our concernings shall importune,
- How it goes with us, and do look to know
- What doth befall you here. So, fare you well.
- To th' hopeful execution do I leave you
- Of your commissions.
- ANGELO. Yet give leave, my lord,
- That we may bring you something on the way.
- DUKE. My haste may not admit it;
- Nor need you, on mine honour, have to do
- With any scruple: your scope is as mine own,
- So to enforce or qualify the laws
- As to your soul seems good. Give me your hand;
- I'll privily away. I love the people,
- But do not like to stage me to their eyes;
- Though it do well, I do not relish well
- Their loud applause and Aves vehement;
- Nor do I think the man of safe discretion
- That does affect it. Once more, fare you well.
- ANGELO. The heavens give safety to your purposes!
- ESCALUS. Lead forth and bring you back in happiness!
- DUKE. I thank you. Fare you well. Exit
- ESCALUS. I shall desire you, sir, to give me leave
- To have free speech with you; and it concerns me
- To look into the bottom of my place:
- A pow'r I have, but of what strength and nature
- I am not yet instructed.
- ANGELO. 'Tis so with me. Let us withdraw together,
- And we may soon our satisfaction have
- Touching that point.
- ESCALUS. I'll wait upon your honour. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-A street
-
-Enter Lucio and two other GENTLEMEN
-
- LUCIO. If the Duke, with the other dukes, come not to composition
- with the King of Hungary, why then all the dukes fall upon the
- King.
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. Heaven grant us its peace, but not the King of
- Hungary's!
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. Amen.
- LUCIO. Thou conclud'st like the sanctimonious pirate that went to
- sea with the Ten Commandments, but scrap'd one out of the table.
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. 'Thou shalt not steal'?
- LUCIO. Ay, that he raz'd.
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. Why, 'twas a commandment to command the captain
- and all the rest from their functions: they put forth to steal.
- There's not a soldier of us all that, in the thanksgiving before
- meat, do relish the petition well that prays for peace.
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. I never heard any soldier dislike it.
- LUCIO. I believe thee; for I think thou never wast where grace was
- said.
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. No? A dozen times at least.
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. What, in metre?
- LUCIO. In any proportion or in any language.
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. I think, or in any religion.
- LUCIO. Ay, why not? Grace is grace, despite of all controversy; as,
- for example, thou thyself art a wicked villain, despite of all
- grace.
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. Well, there went but a pair of shears between us.
- LUCIO. I grant; as there may between the lists and the velvet.
- Thou art the list.
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. And thou the velvet; thou art good velvet; thou'rt
- a three-pil'd piece, I warrant thee. I had as lief be a list of
- an English kersey as be pil'd, as thou art pil'd, for a French
- velvet. Do I speak feelingly now?
- LUCIO. I think thou dost; and, indeed, with most painful feeling of
- thy speech. I will, out of thine own confession, learn to begin
- thy health; but, whilst I live, forget to drink after thee.
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. I think I have done myself wrong, have I not?
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. Yes, that thou hast, whether thou art tainted or
- free.
-
- Enter MISTRESS OVERDONE
-
- LUCIO. Behold, behold, where Madam Mitigation comes! I have
- purchas'd as many diseases under her roof as come to-
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. To what, I pray?
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. Judge.
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. To three thousand dolours a year.
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. Ay, and more.
- LUCIO. A French crown more.
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. Thou art always figuring diseases in me, but thou
- art full of error; I am sound.
- LUCIO. Nay, not, as one would say, healthy; but so sound as things
- that are hollow: thy bones are hollow; impiety has made a feast
- of thee.
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. How now! which of your hips has the most profound
- sciatica?
- MRS. OVERDONE. Well, well! there's one yonder arrested and carried
- to prison was worth five thousand of you all.
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. Who's that, I pray thee?
- MRS. OVERDONE. Marry, sir, that's Claudio, Signior Claudio.
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. Claudio to prison? 'Tis not so.
- MRS. OVERDONE. Nay, but I know 'tis so: I saw him arrested; saw him
- carried away; and, which is more, within these three days his
- head to be chopp'd off.
- LUCIO. But, after all this fooling, I would not have it so. Art
- thou sure of this?
- MRS. OVERDONE. I am too sure of it; and it is for getting Madam
- Julietta with child.
- LUCIO. Believe me, this may be; he promis'd to meet me two hours
- since, and he was ever precise in promise-keeping.
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. Besides, you know, it draws something near to the
- speech we had to such a purpose.
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. But most of all agreeing with the proclamation.
- LUCIO. Away; let's go learn the truth of it.
- Exeunt Lucio and GENTLEMEN
- MRS. OVERDONE. Thus, what with the war, what with the sweat, what
- with the gallows, and what with poverty, I am custom-shrunk.
-
- Enter POMPEY
-
- How now! what's the news with you?
- POMPEY. Yonder man is carried to prison.
- MRS. OVERDONE. Well, what has he done?
- POMPEY. A woman.
- MRS. OVERDONE. But what's his offence?
- POMPEY. Groping for trouts in a peculiar river.
- MRS. OVERDONE. What! is there a maid with child by him?
- POMPEY. No; but there's a woman with maid by him. You have not
- heard of the proclamation, have you?
- MRS. OVERDONE. What proclamation, man?
- POMPEY. All houses in the suburbs of Vienna must be pluck'd down.
- MRS. OVERDONE. And what shall become of those in the city?
- POMPEY. They shall stand for seed; they had gone down too, but that
- a wise burgher put in for them.
- MRS. OVERDONE. But shall all our houses of resort in the suburbs be
- pull'd down?
- POMPEY. To the ground, mistress.
- MRS. OVERDONE. Why, here's a change indeed in the commonwealth!
- What shall become of me?
- POMPEY. Come, fear not you: good counsellors lack no clients.
- Though you change your place you need not change your trade; I'll
- be your tapster still. Courage, there will be pity taken on you;
- you that have worn your eyes almost out in the service, you will
- be considered.
- MRS. OVERDONE. What's to do here, Thomas Tapster? Let's withdraw.
- POMPEY. Here comes Signior Claudio, led by the provost to prison;
- and there's Madam Juliet. Exeunt
-
- Enter PROVOST, CLAUDIO, JULIET, and OFFICERS;
- LUCIO following
-
- CLAUDIO. Fellow, why dost thou show me thus to th' world?
- Bear me to prison, where I am committed.
- PROVOST. I do it not in evil disposition,
- But from Lord Angelo by special charge.
- CLAUDIO. Thus can the demigod Authority
- Make us pay down for our offence by weight
- The words of heaven: on whom it will, it will;
- On whom it will not, so; yet still 'tis just.
- LUCIO. Why, how now, Claudio, whence comes this restraint?
- CLAUDIO. From too much liberty, my Lucio, liberty;
- As surfeit is the father of much fast,
- So every scope by the immoderate use
- Turns to restraint. Our natures do pursue,
- Like rats that ravin down their proper bane,
- A thirsty evil; and when we drink we die.
- LUCIO. If I could speak so wisely under an arrest, I would send for
- certain of my creditors; and yet, to say the truth, I had as lief
- have the foppery of freedom as the morality of imprisonment.
- What's thy offence, Claudio?
- CLAUDIO. What but to speak of would offend again.
- LUCIO. What, is't murder?
- CLAUDIO. No.
- LUCIO. Lechery?
- CLAUDIO. Call it so.
- PROVOST. Away, sir; you must go.
- CLAUDIO. One word, good friend. Lucio, a word with you.
- LUCIO. A hundred, if they'll do you any good. Is lechery so look'd
- after?
- CLAUDIO. Thus stands it with me: upon a true contract
- I got possession of Julietta's bed.
- You know the lady; she is fast my wife,
- Save that we do the denunciation lack
- Of outward order; this we came not to,
- Only for propagation of a dow'r
- Remaining in the coffer of her friends.
- From whom we thought it meet to hide our love
- Till time had made them for us. But it chances
- The stealth of our most mutual entertainment,
- With character too gross, is writ on Juliet.
- LUCIO. With child, perhaps?
- CLAUDIO. Unhappily, even so.
- And the new deputy now for the Duke-
- Whether it be the fault and glimpse of newness,
- Or whether that the body public be
- A horse whereon the governor doth ride,
- Who, newly in the seat, that it may know
- He can command, lets it straight feel the spur;
- Whether the tyranny be in his place,
- Or in his eminence that fills it up,
- I stagger in. But this new governor
- Awakes me all the enrolled penalties
- Which have, like unscour'd armour, hung by th' wall
- So long that nineteen zodiacs have gone round
- And none of them been worn; and, for a name,
- Now puts the drowsy and neglected act
- Freshly on me. 'Tis surely for a name.
- LUCIO. I warrant it is; and thy head stands so tickle on thy
- shoulders that a milkmaid, if she be in love, may sigh it off.
- Send after the Duke, and appeal to him.
- CLAUDIO. I have done so, but he's not to be found.
- I prithee, Lucio, do me this kind service:
- This day my sister should the cloister enter,
- And there receive her approbation;
- Acquaint her with the danger of my state;
- Implore her, in my voice, that she make friends
- To the strict deputy; bid herself assay him.
- I have great hope in that; for in her youth
- There is a prone and speechless dialect
- Such as move men; beside, she hath prosperous art
- When she will play with reason and discourse,
- And well she can persuade.
- LUCIO. I pray she may; as well for the encouragement of the like,
- which else would stand under grievous imposition, as for the
- enjoying of thy life, who I would be sorry should be thus
- foolishly lost at a game of tick-tack. I'll to her.
- CLAUDIO. I thank you, good friend Lucio.
- LUCIO. Within two hours.
- CLAUDIO. Come, officer, away. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-A monastery
-
-Enter DUKE and FRIAR THOMAS
-
- DUKE. No, holy father; throw away that thought;
- Believe not that the dribbling dart of love
- Can pierce a complete bosom. Why I desire thee
- To give me secret harbour hath a purpose
- More grave and wrinkled than the aims and ends
- Of burning youth.
- FRIAR. May your Grace speak of it?
- DUKE. My holy sir, none better knows than you
- How I have ever lov'd the life removed,
- And held in idle price to haunt assemblies
- Where youth, and cost, a witless bravery keeps.
- I have deliver'd to Lord Angelo,
- A man of stricture and firm abstinence,
- My absolute power and place here in Vienna,
- And he supposes me travell'd to Poland;
- For so I have strew'd it in the common ear,
- And so it is received. Now, pious sir,
- You will demand of me why I do this.
- FRIAR. Gladly, my lord.
- DUKE. We have strict statutes and most biting laws,
- The needful bits and curbs to headstrong steeds,
- Which for this fourteen years we have let slip;
- Even like an o'ergrown lion in a cave,
- That goes not out to prey. Now, as fond fathers,
- Having bound up the threat'ning twigs of birch,
- Only to stick it in their children's sight
- For terror, not to use, in time the rod
- Becomes more mock'd than fear'd; so our decrees,
- Dead to infliction, to themselves are dead;
- And liberty plucks justice by the nose;
- The baby beats the nurse, and quite athwart
- Goes all decorum.
- FRIAR. It rested in your Grace
- To unloose this tied-up justice when you pleas'd;
- And it in you more dreadful would have seem'd
- Than in Lord Angelo.
- DUKE. I do fear, too dreadful.
- Sith 'twas my fault to give the people scope,
- 'Twould be my tyranny to strike and gall them
- For what I bid them do; for we bid this be done,
- When evil deeds have their permissive pass
- And not the punishment. Therefore, indeed, my father,
- I have on Angelo impos'd the office;
- Who may, in th' ambush of my name, strike home,
- And yet my nature never in the fight
- To do in slander. And to behold his sway,
- I will, as 'twere a brother of your order,
- Visit both prince and people. Therefore, I prithee,
- Supply me with the habit, and instruct me
- How I may formally in person bear me
- Like a true friar. Moe reasons for this action
- At our more leisure shall I render you.
- Only, this one: Lord Angelo is precise;
- Stands at a guard with envy; scarce confesses
- That his blood flows, or that his appetite
- Is more to bread than stone. Hence shall we see,
- If power change purpose, what our seemers be. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE IV.
-A nunnery
-
-Enter ISABELLA and FRANCISCA
-
- ISABELLA. And have you nuns no farther privileges?
- FRANCISCA. Are not these large enough?
- ISABELLA. Yes, truly; I speak not as desiring more,
- But rather wishing a more strict restraint
- Upon the sisterhood, the votarists of Saint Clare.
- LUCIO. [ Within] Ho! Peace be in this place!
- ISABELLA. Who's that which calls?
- FRANCISCA. It is a man's voice. Gentle Isabella,
- Turn you the key, and know his business of him:
- You may, I may not; you are yet unsworn;
- When you have vow'd, you must not speak with men
- But in the presence of the prioress;
- Then, if you speak, you must not show your face,
- Or, if you show your face, you must not speak.
- He calls again; I pray you answer him. Exit FRANCISCA
- ISABELLA. Peace and prosperity! Who is't that calls?
-
- Enter LUCIO
-
- LUCIO. Hail, virgin, if you be, as those cheek-roses
- Proclaim you are no less. Can you so stead me
- As bring me to the sight of Isabella,
- A novice of this place, and the fair sister
- To her unhappy brother Claudio?
- ISABELLA. Why her 'unhappy brother'? Let me ask
- The rather, for I now must make you know
- I am that Isabella, and his sister.
- LUCIO. Gentle and fair, your brother kindly greets you.
- Not to be weary with you, he's in prison.
- ISABELLA. Woe me! For what?
- LUCIO. For that which, if myself might be his judge,
- He should receive his punishment in thanks:
- He hath got his friend with child.
- ISABELLA. Sir, make me not your story.
- LUCIO. It is true.
- I would not- though 'tis my familiar sin
- With maids to seem the lapwing, and to jest,
- Tongue far from heart- play with all virgins so:
- I hold you as a thing enskied and sainted,
- By your renouncement an immortal spirit,
- And to be talk'd with in sincerity,
- As with a saint.
- ISABELLA. You do blaspheme the good in mocking me.
- LUCIO. Do not believe it. Fewness and truth, 'tis thus:
- Your brother and his lover have embrac'd.
- As those that feed grow full, as blossoming time
- That from the seedness the bare fallow brings
- To teeming foison, even so her plenteous womb
- Expresseth his full tilth and husbandry.
- ISABELLA. Some one with child by him? My cousin Juliet?
- LUCIO. Is she your cousin?
- ISABELLA. Adoptedly, as school-maids change their names
- By vain though apt affection.
- LUCIO. She it is.
- ISABELLA. O, let him marry her!
- LUCIO. This is the point.
- The Duke is very strangely gone from hence;
- Bore many gentlemen, myself being one,
- In hand, and hope of action; but we do learn,
- By those that know the very nerves of state,
- His givings-out were of an infinite distance
- From his true-meant design. Upon his place,
- And with full line of his authority,
- Governs Lord Angelo, a man whose blood
- Is very snow-broth, one who never feels
- The wanton stings and motions of the sense,
- But doth rebate and blunt his natural edge
- With profits of the mind, study and fast.
- He- to give fear to use and liberty,
- Which have for long run by the hideous law,
- As mice by lions- hath pick'd out an act
- Under whose heavy sense your brother's life
- Falls into forfeit; he arrests him on it,
- And follows close the rigour of the statute
- To make him an example. All hope is gone,
- Unless you have the grace by your fair prayer
- To soften Angelo. And that's my pith of business
- 'Twixt you and your poor brother.
- ISABELLA. Doth he so seek his life?
- LUCIO. Has censur'd him
- Already, and, as I hear, the Provost hath
- A warrant for his execution.
- ISABELLA. Alas! what poor ability's in me
- To do him good?
- LUCIO. Assay the pow'r you have.
- ISABELLA. My power, alas, I doubt!
- LUCIO. Our doubts are traitors,
- And make us lose the good we oft might win
- By fearing to attempt. Go to Lord Angelo,
- And let him learn to know, when maidens sue,
- Men give like gods; but when they weep and kneel,
- All their petitions are as freely theirs
- As they themselves would owe them.
- ISABELLA. I'll see what I can do.
- LUCIO. But speedily.
- ISABELLA. I will about it straight;
- No longer staying but to give the Mother
- Notice of my affair. I humbly thank you.
- Commend me to my brother; soon at night
- I'll send him certain word of my success.
- LUCIO. I take my leave of you.
- ISABELLA. Good sir, adieu. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT II. Scene I.
-A hall in ANGELO'S house
-
-Enter ANGELO, ESCALUS, a JUSTICE, PROVOST, OFFICERS, and other ATTENDANTS
-
- ANGELO. We must not make a scarecrow of the law,
- Setting it up to fear the birds of prey,
- And let it keep one shape till custom make it
- Their perch, and not their terror.
- ESCALUS. Ay, but yet
- Let us be keen, and rather cut a little
- Than fall and bruise to death. Alas! this gentleman,
- Whom I would save, had a most noble father.
- Let but your honour know,
- Whom I believe to be most strait in virtue,
- That, in the working of your own affections,
- Had time coher'd with place, or place with wishing,
- Or that the resolute acting of our blood
- Could have attain'd th' effect of your own purpose
- Whether you had not sometime in your life
- Err'd in this point which now you censure him,
- And pull'd the law upon you.
- ANGELO. 'Tis one thing to be tempted, Escalus,
- Another thing to fall. I not deny
- The jury, passing on the prisoner's life,
- May in the sworn twelve have a thief or two
- Guiltier than him they try. What's open made to justice,
- That justice seizes. What knows the laws
- That thieves do pass on thieves? 'Tis very pregnant,
- The jewel that we find, we stoop and take't,
- Because we see it; but what we do not see
- We tread upon, and never think of it.
- You may not so extenuate his offence
- For I have had such faults; but rather tell me,
- When I, that censure him, do so offend,
- Let mine own judgment pattern out my death,
- And nothing come in partial. Sir, he must die.
- ESCALUS. Be it as your wisdom will.
- ANGELO. Where is the Provost?
- PROVOST. Here, if it like your honour.
- ANGELO. See that Claudio
- Be executed by nine to-morrow morning;
- Bring him his confessor; let him be prepar'd;
- For that's the utmost of his pilgrimage. Exit PROVOST
- ESCALUS. [Aside] Well, heaven forgive him! and forgive us all!
- Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall;
- Some run from breaks of ice, and answer none,
- And some condemned for a fault alone.
-
- Enter ELBOW and OFFICERS with FROTH and POMPEY
-
- ELBOW. Come, bring them away; if these be good people in a
- commonweal that do nothing but use their abuses in common houses,
- I know no law; bring them away.
- ANGELO. How now, sir! What's your name, and what's the matter?
- ELBOW. If it please your honour, I am the poor Duke's constable,
- and my name is Elbow; I do lean upon justice, sir, and do bring
- in here before your good honour two notorious benefactors.
- ANGELO. Benefactors! Well- what benefactors are they? Are they not
- malefactors?
- ELBOW. If it please your honour, I know not well what they are; but
- precise villains they are, that I am sure of, and void of all
- profanation in the world that good Christians ought to have.
- ESCALUS. This comes off well; here's a wise officer.
- ANGELO. Go to; what quality are they of? Elbow is your name? Why
- dost thou not speak, Elbow?
- POMPEY. He cannot, sir; he's out at elbow.
- ANGELO. What are you, sir?
- ELBOW. He, sir? A tapster, sir; parcel-bawd; one that serves a bad
- woman; whose house, sir, was, as they say, pluck'd down in the
- suburbs; and now she professes a hot-house, which, I think, is a
- very ill house too.
- ESCALUS. How know you that?
- ELBOW. My Wife, sir, whom I detest before heaven and your honour-
- ESCALUS. How! thy wife!
- ELBOW. Ay, sir; whom I thank heaven, is an honest woman-
- ESCALUS. Dost thou detest her therefore?
- ELBOW. I say, sir, I will detest myself also, as well as she, that
- this house, if it be not a bawd's house, it is pity of her life,
- for it is a naughty house.
- ESCALUS. How dost thou know that, constable?
- ELBOW. Marry, sir, by my wife; who, if she had been a woman
- cardinally given, might have been accus'd in fornication,
- adultery, and all uncleanliness there.
- ESCALUS. By the woman's means?
- ELBOW. Ay, sir, by Mistress Overdone's means; but as she spit in
- his face, so she defied him.
- POMPEY. Sir, if it please your honour, this is not so.
- ELBOW. Prove it before these varlets here, thou honourable man,
- prove it.
- ESCALUS. Do you hear how he misplaces?
- POMPEY. Sir, she came in great with child; and longing, saving your
- honour's reverence, for stew'd prunes. Sir, we had but two in the
- house, which at that very distant time stood, as it were, in a
- fruit dish, a dish of some three pence; your honours have seen
- such dishes; they are not China dishes, but very good dishes.
- ESCALUS. Go to, go to; no matter for the dish, sir.
- POMPEY. No, indeed, sir, not of a pin; you are therein in the
- right; but to the point. As I say, this Mistress Elbow, being, as
- I say, with child, and being great-bellied, and longing, as I
- said, for prunes; and having but two in the dish, as I said,
- Master Froth here, this very man, having eaten the rest, as I
- said, and, as I say, paying for them very honestly; for, as you
- know, Master Froth, I could not give you three pence again-
- FROTH. No, indeed.
- POMPEY. Very well; you being then, if you be rememb'red, cracking
- the stones of the foresaid prunes-
- FROTH. Ay, so I did indeed.
- POMPEY. Why, very well; I telling you then, if you be rememb'red,
- that such a one and such a one were past cure of the thing you
- wot of, unless they kept very good diet, as I told you-
- FROTH. All this is true.
- POMPEY. Why, very well then-
- ESCALUS. Come, you are a tedious fool. To the purpose: what was
- done to Elbow's wife that he hath cause to complain of? Come me
- to what was done to her.
- POMPEY. Sir, your honour cannot come to that yet.
- ESCALUS. No, sir, nor I mean it not.
- POMPEY. Sir, but you shall come to it, by your honour's leave. And,
- I beseech you, look into Master Froth here, sir, a man of
- fourscore pound a year; whose father died at Hallowmas- was't not
- at Hallowmas, Master Froth?
- FROTH. All-hallond eve.
- POMPEY. Why, very well; I hope here be truths. He, sir, sitting, as
- I say, in a lower chair, sir; 'twas in the Bunch of Grapes,
- where, indeed, you have a delight to sit, have you not?
- FROTH. I have so; because it is an open room, and good for winter.
- POMPEY. Why, very well then; I hope here be truths.
- ANGELO. This will last out a night in Russia,
- When nights are longest there; I'll take my leave,
- And leave you to the hearing of the cause,
- Hoping you'll find good cause to whip them all.
- ESCALUS. I think no less. Good morrow to your lordship.
- [Exit ANGELO] Now, sir, come on; what was done to Elbow's wife,
- once more?
- POMPEY. Once?- sir. There was nothing done to her once.
- ELBOW. I beseech you, sir, ask him what this man did to my wife.
- POMPEY. I beseech your honour, ask me.
- ESCALUS. Well, sir, what did this gentleman to her?
- POMPEY. I beseech you, sir, look in this gentleman's face. Good
- Master Froth, look upon his honour; 'tis for a good purpose. Doth
- your honour mark his face?
- ESCALUS. Ay, sir, very well.
- POMPEY. Nay, I beseech you, mark it well.
- ESCALUS. Well, I do so.
- POMPEY. Doth your honour see any harm in his face?
- ESCALUS. Why, no.
- POMPEY. I'll be suppos'd upon a book his face is the worst thing
- about him. Good then; if his face be the worst thing about him,
- how could Master Froth do the constable's wife any harm? I would
- know that of your honour.
- ESCALUS. He's in the right, constable; what say you to it?
- ELBOW. First, an it like you, the house is a respected house; next,
- this is a respected fellow; and his mistress is a respected
- woman.
- POMPEY. By this hand, sir, his wife is a more respected person than
- any of us all.
- ELBOW. Varlet, thou liest; thou liest, wicket varlet; the time is
- yet to come that she was ever respected with man, woman, or
- child.
- POMPEY. Sir, she was respected with him before he married with her.
- ESCALUS. Which is the wiser here, Justice or Iniquity? Is this
- true?
- ELBOW. O thou caitiff! O thou varlet! O thou wicked Hannibal! I
- respected with her before I was married to her! If ever I was
- respected with her, or she with me, let not your worship think me
- the poor Duke's officer. Prove this, thou wicked Hannibal, or
- I'll have mine action of batt'ry on thee.
- ESCALUS. If he took you a box o' th' ear, you might have your
- action of slander too.
- ELBOW. Marry, I thank your good worship for it. What is't your
- worship's pleasure I shall do with this wicked caitiff?
- ESCALUS. Truly, officer, because he hath some offences in him that
- thou wouldst discover if thou couldst, let him continue in his
- courses till thou know'st what they are.
- ELBOW. Marry, I thank your worship for it. Thou seest, thou wicked
- varlet, now, what's come upon thee: thou art to continue now,
- thou varlet; thou art to continue.
- ESCALUS. Where were you born, friend?
- FROTH. Here in Vienna, sir.
- ESCALUS. Are you of fourscore pounds a year?
- FROTH. Yes, an't please you, sir.
- ESCALUS. So. What trade are you of, sir?
- POMPEY. A tapster, a poor widow's tapster.
- ESCALUS. Your mistress' name?
- POMPEY. Mistress Overdone.
- ESCALUS. Hath she had any more than one husband?
- POMPEY. Nine, sir; Overdone by the last.
- ESCALUS. Nine! Come hither to me, Master Froth. Master Froth, I
- would not have you acquainted with tapsters: they will draw you,
- Master Froth, and you will hang them. Get you gone, and let me
- hear no more of you.
- FROTH. I thank your worship. For mine own part, I never come into
- any room in a taphouse but I am drawn in.
- ESCALUS. Well, no more of it, Master Froth; farewell. [Exit FROTH]
- Come you hither to me, Master Tapster; what's your name, Master
- Tapster?
- POMPEY. Pompey.
- ESCALUS. What else?
- POMPEY. Bum, sir.
- ESCALUS. Troth, and your bum is the greatest thing about you; so
- that, in the beastliest sense, you are Pompey the Great. Pompey,
- you are partly a bawd, Pompey, howsoever you colour it in being a
- tapster. Are you not? Come, tell me true; it shall be the better
- for you.
- POMPEY. Truly, sir, I am a poor fellow that would live.
- ESCALUS. How would you live, Pompey- by being a bawd? What do you
- think of the trade, Pompey? Is it a lawful trade?
- POMPEY. If the law would allow it, sir.
- ESCALUS. But the law will not allow it, Pompey; nor it shall not be
- allowed in Vienna.
- POMPEY. Does your worship mean to geld and splay all the youth of
- the city?
- ESCALUS. No, Pompey.
- POMPEY. Truly, sir, in my poor opinion, they will to't then. If
- your worship will take order for the drabs and the knaves, you
- need not to fear the bawds.
- ESCALUS. There is pretty orders beginning, I can tell you: but it
- is but heading and hanging.
- POMPEY. If you head and hang all that offend that way but for ten
- year together, you'll be glad to give out a commission for more
- heads; if this law hold in Vienna ten year, I'll rent the fairest
- house in it, after threepence a bay. If you live to see this come
- to pass, say Pompey told you so.
- ESCALUS. Thank you, good Pompey; and, in requital of your prophecy,
- hark you: I advise you, let me not find you before me again upon
- any complaint whatsoever- no, not for dwelling where you do; if I
- do, Pompey, I shall beat you to your tent, and prove a shrewd
- Caesar to you; in plain dealing, Pompey, I shall have you whipt.
- So for this time, Pompey, fare you well.
- POMPEY. I thank your worship for your good counsel; [Aside] but I
- shall follow it as the flesh and fortune shall better determine.
- Whip me? No, no; let carman whip his jade;
- The valiant heart's not whipt out of his trade. Exit
- ESCALUS. Come hither to me, Master Elbow; come hither, Master
- Constable. How long have you been in this place of constable?
- ELBOW. Seven year and a half, sir.
- ESCALUS. I thought, by the readiness in the office, you had
- continued in it some time. You say seven years together?
- ELBOW. And a half, sir.
- ESCALUS. Alas, it hath been great pains to you! They do you wrong
- to put you so oft upon't. Are there not men in your ward
- sufficient to serve it?
- ELBOW. Faith, sir, few of any wit in such matters; as they are
- chosen, they are glad to choose me for them; I do it for some
- piece of money, and go through with all.
- ESCALUS. Look you, bring me in the names of some six or seven, the
- most sufficient of your parish.
- ELBOW. To your worship's house, sir?
- ESCALUS. To my house. Fare you well. [Exit ELBOW]
- What's o'clock, think you?
- JUSTICE. Eleven, sir.
- ESCALUS. I pray you home to dinner with me.
- JUSTICE. I humbly thank you.
- ESCALUS. It grieves me for the death of Claudio;
- But there's no remedy.
- JUSTICE. Lord Angelo is severe.
- ESCALUS. It is but needful:
- Mercy is not itself that oft looks so;
- Pardon is still the nurse of second woe.
- But yet, poor Claudio! There is no remedy.
- Come, sir. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-Another room in ANGELO'S house
-
-Enter PROVOST and a SERVANT
-
- SERVANT. He's hearing of a cause; he will come straight.
- I'll tell him of you.
- PROVOST. Pray you do. [Exit SERVANT] I'll know
- His pleasure; may be he will relent. Alas,
- He hath but as offended in a dream!
- All sects, all ages, smack of this vice; and he
- To die for 't!
-
- Enter ANGELO
-
- ANGELO. Now, what's the matter, Provost?
- PROVOST. Is it your will Claudio shall die to-morrow?
- ANGELO. Did not I tell thee yea? Hadst thou not order?
- Why dost thou ask again?
- PROVOST. Lest I might be too rash;
- Under your good correction, I have seen
- When, after execution, judgment hath
- Repented o'er his doom.
- ANGELO. Go to; let that be mine.
- Do you your office, or give up your place,
- And you shall well be spar'd.
- PROVOST. I crave your honour's pardon.
- What shall be done, sir, with the groaning Juliet?
- She's very near her hour.
- ANGELO. Dispose of her
- To some more fitter place, and that with speed.
-
- Re-enter SERVANT
-
- SERVANT. Here is the sister of the man condemn'd
- Desires access to you.
- ANGELO. Hath he a sister?
- PROVOST. Ay, my good lord; a very virtuous maid,
- And to be shortly of a sisterhood,
- If not already.
- ANGELO. Well, let her be admitted. Exit SERVANT
- See you the fornicatress be remov'd;
- Let her have needful but not lavish means;
- There shall be order for't.
-
- Enter Lucio and ISABELLA
-
- PROVOST. [Going] Save your honour!
- ANGELO. Stay a little while. [To ISABELLA] Y'are welcome; what's
- your will?
- ISABELLA. I am a woeful suitor to your honour,
- Please but your honour hear me.
- ANGELO. Well; what's your suit?
- ISABELLA. There is a vice that most I do abhor,
- And most desire should meet the blow of justice;
- For which I would not plead, but that I must;
- For which I must not plead, but that I am
- At war 'twixt will and will not.
- ANGELO. Well; the matter?
- ISABELLA. I have a brother is condemn'd to die;
- I do beseech you, let it be his fault,
- And not my brother.
- PROVOST. [Aside] Heaven give thee moving graces.
- ANGELO. Condemn the fault and not the actor of it!
- Why, every fault's condemn'd ere it be done;
- Mine were the very cipher of a function,
- To fine the faults whose fine stands in record,
- And let go by the actor.
- ISABELLA. O just but severe law!
- I had a brother, then. Heaven keep your honour!
- LUCIO. [To ISABELLA] Give't not o'er so; to him again, entreat him,
- Kneel down before him, hang upon his gown;
- You are too cold: if you should need a pin,
- You could not with more tame a tongue desire it.
- To him, I say.
- ISABELLA. Must he needs die?
- ANGELO. Maiden, no remedy.
- ISABELLA. Yes; I do think that you might pardon him.
- And neither heaven nor man grieve at the mercy.
- ANGELO. I will not do't.
- ISABELLA. But can you, if you would?
- ANGELO. Look, what I will not, that I cannot do.
- ISABELLA. But might you do't, and do the world no wrong,
- If so your heart were touch'd with that remorse
- As mine is to him?
- ANGELO. He's sentenc'd; 'tis too late.
- LUCIO. [To ISABELLA] You are too cold.
- ISABELLA. Too late? Why, no; I, that do speak a word,
- May call it back again. Well, believe this:
- No ceremony that to great ones longs,
- Not the king's crown nor the deputed sword,
- The marshal's truncheon nor the judge's robe,
- Become them with one half so good a grace
- As mercy does.
- If he had been as you, and you as he,
- You would have slipp'd like him; but he, like you,
- Would not have been so stern.
- ANGELO. Pray you be gone.
- ISABELLA. I would to heaven I had your potency,
- And you were Isabel! Should it then be thus?
- No; I would tell what 'twere to be a judge
- And what a prisoner.
- LUCIO. [To ISABELLA] Ay, touch him; there's the vein.
- ANGELO. Your brother is a forfeit of the law,
- And you but waste your words.
- ISABELLA. Alas! Alas!
- Why, all the souls that were were forfeit once;
- And He that might the vantage best have took
- Found out the remedy. How would you be
- If He, which is the top of judgment, should
- But judge you as you are? O, think on that;
- And mercy then will breathe within your lips,
- Like man new made.
- ANGELO. Be you content, fair maid.
- It is the law, not I condemn your brother.
- Were he my kinsman, brother, or my son,
- It should be thus with him. He must die to-morrow.
- ISABELLA. To-morrow! O, that's sudden! Spare him, spare him.
- He's not prepar'd for death. Even for our kitchens
- We kill the fowl of season; shall we serve heaven
- With less respect than we do minister
- To our gross selves? Good, good my lord, bethink you.
- Who is it that hath died for this offence?
- There's many have committed it.
- LUCIO. [Aside] Ay, well said.
- ANGELO. The law hath not been dead, though it hath slept.
- Those many had not dar'd to do that evil
- If the first that did th' edict infringe
- Had answer'd for his deed. Now 'tis awake,
- Takes note of what is done, and, like a prophet,
- Looks in a glass that shows what future evils-
- Either now or by remissness new conceiv'd,
- And so in progress to be hatch'd and born-
- Are now to have no successive degrees,
- But here they live to end.
- ISABELLA. Yet show some pity.
- ANGELO. I show it most of all when I show justice;
- For then I pity those I do not know,
- Which a dismiss'd offence would after gall,
- And do him right that, answering one foul wrong,
- Lives not to act another. Be satisfied;
- Your brother dies to-morrow; be content.
- ISABELLA. So you must be the first that gives this sentence,
- And he that suffers. O, it is excellent
- To have a giant's strength! But it is tyrannous
- To use it like a giant.
- LUCIO. [To ISABELLA] That's well said.
- ISABELLA. Could great men thunder
- As Jove himself does, Jove would never be quiet,
- For every pelting petty officer
- Would use his heaven for thunder,
- Nothing but thunder. Merciful Heaven,
- Thou rather, with thy sharp and sulphurous bolt,
- Splits the unwedgeable and gnarled oak
- Than the soft myrtle. But man, proud man,
- Dress'd in a little brief authority,
- Most ignorant of what he's most assur'd,
- His glassy essence, like an angry ape,
- Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven
- As makes the angels weep; who, with our speens,
- Would all themselves laugh mortal.
- LUCIO. [To ISABELLA] O, to him, to him, wench! He will relent;
- He's coming; I perceive 't.
- PROVOST. [Aside] Pray heaven she win him.
- ISABELLA. We cannot weigh our brother with ourself.
- Great men may jest with saints: 'tis wit in them;
- But in the less foul profanation.
- LUCIO. [To ISABELLA] Thou'rt i' th' right, girl; more o' that.
- ISABELLA. That in the captain's but a choleric word
- Which in the soldier is flat blasphemy.
- LUCIO. [To ISABELLA] Art avis'd o' that? More on't.
- ANGELO. Why do you put these sayings upon me?
- ISABELLA. Because authority, though it err like others,
- Hath yet a kind of medicine in itself
- That skins the vice o' th' top. Go to your bosom,
- Knock there, and ask your heart what it doth know
- That's like my brother's fault. If it confess
- A natural guiltiness such as is his,
- Let it not sound a thought upon your tongue
- Against my brother's life.
- ANGELO. [Aside] She speaks, and 'tis
- Such sense that my sense breeds with it.- Fare you well.
- ISABELLA. Gentle my lord, turn back.
- ANGELO. I will bethink me. Come again to-morrow.
- ISABELLA. Hark how I'll bribe you; good my lord, turn back.
- ANGELO. How, bribe me?
- ISABELLA. Ay, with such gifts that heaven shall share with you.
- LUCIO. [To ISABELLA) You had marr'd all else.
- ISABELLA. Not with fond sicles of the tested gold,
- Or stones, whose rate are either rich or poor
- As fancy values them; but with true prayers
- That shall be up at heaven and enter there
- Ere sun-rise, prayers from preserved souls,
- From fasting maids, whose minds are dedicate
- To nothing temporal.
- ANGELO. Well; come to me to-morrow.
- LUCIO. [To ISABELLA] Go to; 'tis well; away.
- ISABELLA. Heaven keep your honour safe!
- ANGELO. [Aside] Amen; for I
- Am that way going to temptation
- Where prayers cross.
- ISABELLA. At what hour to-morrow
- Shall I attend your lordship?
- ANGELO. At any time 'fore noon.
- ISABELLA. Save your honour! Exeunt all but ANGELO
- ANGELO. From thee; even from thy virtue!
- What's this, what's this? Is this her fault or mine?
- The tempter or the tempted, who sins most?
- Ha!
- Not she; nor doth she tempt; but it is I
- That, lying by the violet in the sun,
- Do as the carrion does, not as the flow'r,
- Corrupt with virtuous season. Can it be
- That modesty may more betray our sense
- Than woman's lightness? Having waste ground enough,
- Shall we desire to raze the sanctuary,
- And pitch our evils there? O, fie, fie, fie!
- What dost thou, or what art thou, Angelo?
- Dost thou desire her foully for those things
- That make her good? O, let her brother live!
- Thieves for their robbery have authority
- When judges steal themselves. What, do I love her,
- That I desire to hear her speak again,
- And feast upon her eyes? What is't I dream on?
- O cunning enemy, that, to catch a saint,
- With saints dost bait thy hook! Most dangerous
- Is that temptation that doth goad us on
- To sin in loving virtue. Never could the strumpet,
- With all her double vigour, art and nature,
- Once stir my temper; but this virtuous maid
- Subdues me quite. Ever till now,
- When men were fond, I smil'd and wond'red how. Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-A prison
-
-Enter, severally, DUKE, disguised as a FRIAR, and PROVOST
-
- DUKE. Hail to you, Provost! so I think you are.
- PROVOST. I am the Provost. What's your will, good friar?
- DUKE. Bound by my charity and my blest order,
- I come to visit the afflicted spirits
- Here in the prison. Do me the common right
- To let me see them, and to make me know
- The nature of their crimes, that I may minister
- To them accordingly.
- PROVOST. I would do more than that, if more were needful.
-
- Enter JULIET
-
- Look, here comes one; a gentlewoman of mine,
- Who, falling in the flaws of her own youth,
- Hath blister'd her report. She is with child;
- And he that got it, sentenc'd- a young man
- More fit to do another such offence
- Than die for this.
- DUKE. When must he die?
- PROVOST. As I do think, to-morrow.
- [To JULIET] I have provided for you; stay awhile
- And you shall be conducted.
- DUKE. Repent you, fair one, of the sin you carry?
- JULIET. I do; and bear the shame most patiently.
- DUKE. I'll teach you how you shall arraign your conscience,
- And try your penitence, if it be sound
- Or hollowly put on.
- JULIET. I'll gladly learn.
- DUKE. Love you the man that wrong'd you?
- JULIET. Yes, as I love the woman that wrong'd him.
- DUKE. So then, it seems, your most offenceful act
- Was mutually committed.
- JULIET. Mutually.
- DUKE. Then was your sin of heavier kind than his.
- JULIET. I do confess it, and repent it, father.
- DUKE. 'Tis meet so, daughter; but lest you do repent
- As that the sin hath brought you to this shame,
- Which sorrow is always toward ourselves, not heaven,
- Showing we would not spare heaven as we love it,
- But as we stand in fear-
- JULIET. I do repent me as it is an evil,
- And take the shame with joy.
- DUKE. There rest.
- Your partner, as I hear, must die to-morrow,
- And I am going with instruction to him.
- Grace go with you! Benedicite! Exit
- JULIET. Must die to-morrow! O, injurious law,
- That respites me a life whose very comfort
- Is still a dying horror!
- PROVOST. 'Tis pity of him. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE IV.
-ANGELO'S house
-
-Enter ANGELO
-
- ANGELO. When I would pray and think, I think and pray
- To several subjects. Heaven hath my empty words,
- Whilst my invention, hearing not my tongue,
- Anchors on Isabel. Heaven in my mouth,
- As if I did but only chew his name,
- And in my heart the strong and swelling evil
- Of my conception. The state whereon I studied
- Is, like a good thing being often read,
- Grown sere and tedious; yea, my gravity,
- Wherein- let no man hear me- I take pride,
- Could I with boot change for an idle plume
- Which the air beats for vain. O place, O form,
- How often dost thou with thy case, thy habit,
- Wrench awe from fools, and tie the wiser souls
- To thy false seeming! Blood, thou art blood.
- Let's write 'good angel' on the devil's horn;
- 'Tis not the devil's crest.
-
- Enter SERVANT
-
- How now, who's there?
- SERVANT. One Isabel, a sister, desires access to you.
- ANGELO. Teach her the way. [Exit SERVANT] O heavens!
- Why does my blood thus muster to my heart,
- Making both it unable for itself
- And dispossessing all my other parts
- Of necessary fitness?
- So play the foolish throngs with one that swoons;
- Come all to help him, and so stop the air
- By which he should revive; and even so
- The general subject to a well-wish'd king
- Quit their own part, and in obsequious fondness
- Crowd to his presence, where their untaught love
- Must needs appear offence.
-
- Enter ISABELLA
-
- How now, fair maid?
- ISABELLA. I am come to know your pleasure.
- ANGELO. That you might know it would much better please me
- Than to demand what 'tis. Your brother cannot live.
- ISABELLA. Even so! Heaven keep your honour!
- ANGELO. Yet may he live awhile, and, it may be,
- As long as you or I; yet he must die.
- ISABELLA. Under your sentence?
- ANGELO. Yea.
- ISABELLA. When? I beseech you; that in his reprieve,
- Longer or shorter, he may be so fitted
- That his soul sicken not.
- ANGELO. Ha! Fie, these filthy vices! It were as good
- To pardon him that hath from nature stol'n
- A man already made, as to remit
- Their saucy sweetness that do coin heaven's image
- In stamps that are forbid; 'tis all as easy
- Falsely to take away a life true made
- As to put metal in restrained means
- To make a false one.
- ISABELLA. 'Tis set down so in heaven, but not in earth.
- ANGELO. Say you so? Then I shall pose you quickly.
- Which had you rather- that the most just law
- Now took your brother's life; or, to redeem him,
- Give up your body to such sweet uncleanness
- As she that he hath stain'd?
- ISABELLA. Sir, believe this:
- I had rather give my body than my soul.
- ANGELO. I talk not of your soul; our compell'd sins
- Stand more for number than for accompt.
- ISABELLA. How say you?
- ANGELO. Nay, I'll not warrant that; for I can speak
- Against the thing I say. Answer to this:
- I, now the voice of the recorded law,
- Pronounce a sentence on your brother's life;
- Might there not be a charity in sin
- To save this brother's life?
- ISABELLA. Please you to do't,
- I'll take it as a peril to my soul
- It is no sin at all, but charity.
- ANGELO. Pleas'd you to do't at peril of your soul,
- Were equal poise of sin and charity.
- ISABELLA. That I do beg his life, if it be sin,
- Heaven let me bear it! You granting of my suit,
- If that be sin, I'll make it my morn prayer
- To have it added to the faults of mine,
- And nothing of your answer.
- ANGELO. Nay, but hear me;
- Your sense pursues not mine; either you are ignorant
- Or seem so, craftily; and that's not good.
- ISABELLA. Let me be ignorant, and in nothing good
- But graciously to know I am no better.
- ANGELO. Thus wisdom wishes to appear most bright
- When it doth tax itself; as these black masks
- Proclaim an enshielded beauty ten times louder
- Than beauty could, display'd. But mark me:
- To be received plain, I'll speak more gross-
- Your brother is to die.
- ISABELLA. So.
- ANGELO. And his offence is so, as it appears,
- Accountant to the law upon that pain.
- ISABELLA. True.
- ANGELO. Admit no other way to save his life,
- As I subscribe not that, nor any other,
- But, in the loss of question, that you, his sister,
- Finding yourself desir'd of such a person
- Whose credit with the judge, or own great place,
- Could fetch your brother from the manacles
- Of the all-binding law; and that there were
- No earthly mean to save him but that either
- You must lay down the treasures of your body
- To this supposed, or else to let him suffer-
- What would you do?
- ISABELLA. As much for my poor brother as myself;
- That is, were I under the terms of death,
- Th' impression of keen whips I'd wear as rubies,
- And strip myself to death as to a bed
- That longing have been sick for, ere I'd yield
- My body up to shame.
- ANGELO. Then must your brother die.
- ISABELLA. And 'twere the cheaper way:
- Better it were a brother died at once
- Than that a sister, by redeeming him,
- Should die for ever.
- ANGELO. Were not you, then, as cruel as the sentence
- That you have slander'd so?
- ISABELLA. Ignominy in ransom and free pardon
- Are of two houses: lawful mercy
- Is nothing kin to foul redemption.
- ANGELO. You seem'd of late to make the law a tyrant;
- And rather prov'd the sliding of your brother
- A merriment than a vice.
- ISABELLA. O, pardon me, my lord! It oft falls out,
- To have what we would have, we speak not what we mean:
- I something do excuse the thing I hate
- For his advantage that I dearly love.
- ANGELO. We are all frail.
- ISABELLA. Else let my brother die,
- If not a fedary but only he
- Owe and succeed thy weakness.
- ANGELO. Nay, women are frail too.
- ISABELLA. Ay, as the glasses where they view themselves,
- Which are as easy broke as they make forms.
- Women, help heaven! Men their creation mar
- In profiting by them. Nay, call us ten times frail;
- For we are soft as our complexions are,
- And credulous to false prints.
- ANGELO. I think it well;
- And from this testimony of your own sex,
- Since I suppose we are made to be no stronger
- Than faults may shake our frames, let me be bold.
- I do arrest your words. Be that you are,
- That is, a woman; if you be more, you're none;
- If you be one, as you are well express'd
- By all external warrants, show it now
- By putting on the destin'd livery.
- ISABELLA. I have no tongue but one; gentle, my lord,
- Let me intreat you speak the former language.
- ANGELO. Plainly conceive, I love you.
- ISABELLA. My brother did love Juliet,
- And you tell me that he shall die for't.
- ANGELO. He shall not, Isabel, if you give me love.
- ISABELLA. I know your virtue hath a license in't,
- Which seems a little fouler than it is,
- To pluck on others.
- ANGELO. Believe me, on mine honour,
- My words express my purpose.
- ISABELLA. Ha! little honour to be much believ'd,
- And most pernicious purpose! Seeming, seeming!
- I will proclaim thee, Angelo, look for't.
- Sign me a present pardon for my brother
- Or, with an outstretch'd throat, I'll tell the world aloud
- What man thou art.
- ANGELO. Who will believe thee, Isabel?
- My unsoil'd name, th' austereness of my life,
- My vouch against you, and my place i' th' state,
- Will so your accusation overweigh
- That you shall stifle in your own report,
- And smell of calumny. I have begun,
- And now I give my sensual race the rein:
- Fit thy consent to my sharp appetite;
- Lay by all nicety and prolixious blushes
- That banish what they sue for; redeem thy brother
- By yielding up thy body to my will;
- Or else he must not only die the death,
- But thy unkindness shall his death draw out
- To ling'ring sufferance. Answer me to-morrow,
- Or, by the affection that now guides me most,
- I'll prove a tyrant to him. As for you,
- Say what you can: my false o'erweighs your true. Exit
- ISABELLA. To whom should I complain? Did I tell this,
- Who would believe me? O perilous mouths
- That bear in them one and the self-same tongue
- Either of condemnation or approof,
- Bidding the law make curtsy to their will;
- Hooking both right and wrong to th' appetite,
- To follow as it draws! I'll to my brother.
- Though he hath fall'n by prompture of the blood,
- Yet hath he in him such a mind of honour
- That, had he twenty heads to tender down
- On twenty bloody blocks, he'd yield them up
- Before his sister should her body stoop
- To such abhorr'd pollution.
- Then, Isabel, live chaste, and, brother, die:
- More than our brother is our chastity.
- I'll tell him yet of Angelo's request,
- And fit his mind to death, for his soul's rest. Exit
-
-
-
-
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-
-ACT III. SCENE I.
-The prison
-
-Enter DUKE, disguised as before, CLAUDIO, and PROVOST
-
- DUKE. So, then you hope of pardon from Lord Angelo?
- CLAUDIO. The miserable have no other medicine
- But only hope:
- I have hope to Eve, and am prepar'd to die.
- DUKE. Be absolute for death; either death or life
- Shall thereby be the sweeter. Reason thus with life.
- If I do lose thee, I do lose a thing
- That none but fools would keep. A breath thou art,
- Servile to all the skyey influences,
- That dost this habitation where thou keep'st
- Hourly afflict. Merely, thou art Death's fool;
- For him thou labour'st by thy flight to shun
- And yet run'st toward him still. Thou art not noble;
- For all th' accommodations that thou bear'st
- Are nurs'd by baseness. Thou 'rt by no means valiant;
- For thou dost fear the soft and tender fork
- Of a poor worm. Thy best of rest is sleep,
- And that thou oft provok'st; yet grossly fear'st
- Thy death, which is no more. Thou art not thyself;
- For thou exists on many a thousand grains
- That issue out of dust. Happy thou art not;
- For what thou hast not, still thou striv'st to get,
- And what thou hast, forget'st. Thou art not certain;
- For thy complexion shifts to strange effects,
- After the moon. If thou art rich, thou'rt poor;
- For, like an ass whose back with ingots bows,
- Thou bear'st thy heavy riches but a journey,
- And Death unloads thee. Friend hast thou none;
- For thine own bowels which do call thee sire,
- The mere effusion of thy proper loins,
- Do curse the gout, serpigo, and the rheum,
- For ending thee no sooner. Thou hast nor youth nor age,
- But, as it were, an after-dinner's sleep,
- Dreaming on both; for all thy blessed youth
- Becomes as aged, and doth beg the alms
- Of palsied eld; and when thou art old and rich,
- Thou hast neither heat, affection, limb, nor beauty,
- To make thy riches pleasant. What's yet in this
- That bears the name of life? Yet in this life
- Lie hid moe thousand deaths; yet death we fear,
- That makes these odds all even.
- CLAUDIO. I humbly thank you.
- To sue to live, I find I seek to die;
- And, seeking death, find life. Let it come on.
- ISABELLA. [Within] What, ho! Peace here; grace and good company!
- PROVOST. Who's there? Come in; the wish deserves a welcome.
- DUKE. Dear sir, ere long I'll visit you again.
- CLAUDIO. Most holy sir, I thank you.
-
- Enter ISABELLA
-
- ISABELLA. My business is a word or two with Claudio.
- PROVOST. And very welcome. Look, signior, here's your sister.
- DUKE. Provost, a word with you.
- PROVOST. As many as you please.
- DUKE. Bring me to hear them speak, where I may be conceal'd.
- Exeunt DUKE and PROVOST
- CLAUDIO. Now, sister, what's the comfort?
- ISABELLA. Why,
- As all comforts are; most good, most good, indeed.
- Lord Angelo, having affairs to heaven,
- Intends you for his swift ambassador,
- Where you shall be an everlasting leiger.
- Therefore, your best appointment make with speed;
- To-morrow you set on.
- CLAUDIO. Is there no remedy?
- ISABELLA. None, but such remedy as, to save a head,
- To cleave a heart in twain.
- CLAUDIO. But is there any?
- ISABELLA. Yes, brother, you may live:
- There is a devilish mercy in the judge,
- If you'll implore it, that will free your life,
- But fetter you till death.
- CLAUDIO. Perpetual durance?
- ISABELLA. Ay, just; perpetual durance, a restraint,
- Though all the world's vastidity you had,
- To a determin'd scope.
- CLAUDIO. But in what nature?
- ISABELLA. In such a one as, you consenting to't,
- Would bark your honour from that trunk you bear,
- And leave you naked.
- CLAUDIO. Let me know the point.
- ISABELLA. O, I do fear thee, Claudio; and I quake,
- Lest thou a feverous life shouldst entertain,
- And six or seven winters more respect
- Than a perpetual honour. Dar'st thou die?
- The sense of death is most in apprehension;
- And the poor beetle that we tread upon
- In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great
- As when a giant dies.
- CLAUDIO. Why give you me this shame?
- Think you I can a resolution fetch
- From flow'ry tenderness? If I must die,
- I will encounter darkness as a bride
- And hug it in mine arms.
- ISABELLA. There spake my brother; there my father's grave
- Did utter forth a voice. Yes, thou must die:
- Thou art too noble to conserve a life
- In base appliances. This outward-sainted deputy,
- Whose settled visage and deliberate word
- Nips youth i' th' head, and follies doth enew
- As falcon doth the fowl, is yet a devil;
- His filth within being cast, he would appear
- A pond as deep as hell.
- CLAUDIO. The precise Angelo!
- ISABELLA. O, 'tis the cunning livery of hell
- The damned'st body to invest and cover
- In precise guards! Dost thou think, Claudio,
- If I would yield him my virginity
- Thou mightst be freed?
- CLAUDIO. O heavens! it cannot be.
- ISABELLA. Yes, he would give't thee, from this rank offence,
- So to offend him still. This night's the time
- That I should do what I abhor to name,
- Or else thou diest to-morrow.
- CLAUDIO. Thou shalt not do't.
- ISABELLA. O, were it but my life!
- I'd throw it down for your deliverance
- As frankly as a pin.
- CLAUDIO. Thanks, dear Isabel.
- ISABELLA. Be ready, Claudio, for your death to-morrow.
- CLAUDIO. Yes. Has he affections in him
- That thus can make him bite the law by th' nose
- When he would force it? Sure it is no sin;
- Or of the deadly seven it is the least.
- ISABELLA. Which is the least?
- CLAUDIO. If it were damnable, he being so wise,
- Why would he for the momentary trick
- Be perdurably fin'd?- O Isabel!
- ISABELLA. What says my brother?
- CLAUDIO. Death is a fearful thing.
- ISABELLA. And shamed life a hateful.
- CLAUDIO. Ay, but to die, and go we know not where;
- To lie in cold obstruction, and to rot;
- This sensible warm motion to become
- A kneaded clod; and the delighted spirit
- To bathe in fiery floods or to reside
- In thrilling region of thick-ribbed ice;
- To be imprison'd in the viewless winds,
- And blown with restless violence round about
- The pendent world; or to be worse than worst
- Of those that lawless and incertain thought
- Imagine howling- 'tis too horrible.
- The weariest and most loathed worldly life
- That age, ache, penury, and imprisonment,
- Can lay on nature is a paradise
- To what we fear of death.
- ISABELLA. Alas, alas!
- CLAUDIO. Sweet sister, let me live.
- What sin you do to save a brother's life,
- Nature dispenses with the deed so far
- That it becomes a virtue.
- ISABELLA. O you beast!
- O faithless coward! O dishonest wretch!
- Wilt thou be made a man out of my vice?
- Is't not a kind of incest to take life
- From thine own sister's shame? What should I think?
- Heaven shield my mother play'd my father fair!
- For such a warped slip of wilderness
- Ne'er issu'd from his blood. Take my defiance;
- Die; perish. Might but my bending down
- Reprieve thee from thy fate, it should proceed.
- I'll pray a thousand prayers for thy death,
- No word to save thee.
- CLAUDIO. Nay, hear me, Isabel.
- ISABELLA. O fie, fie, fie!
- Thy sin's not accidental, but a trade.
- Mercy to thee would prove itself a bawd;
- 'Tis best that thou diest quickly.
- CLAUDIO. O, hear me, Isabella.
-
- Re-enter DUKE
-
- DUKE. Vouchsafe a word, young sister, but one word.
- ISABELLA. What is your will?
- DUKE. Might you dispense with your leisure, I would by and by have
- some speech with you; the satisfaction I would require is
- likewise your own benefit.
- ISABELLA. I have no superfluous leisure; my stay must be stolen out
- of other affairs; but I will attend you awhile.
- [Walks apart]
- DUKE. Son, I have overheard what hath pass'd between you and your
- sister. Angelo had never the purpose to corrupt her; only he hath
- made an assay of her virtue to practise his judgment with the
- disposition of natures. She, having the truth of honour in her,
- hath made him that gracious denial which he is most glad to
- receive. I am confessor to Angelo, and I know this to be true;
- therefore prepare yourself to death. Do not satisfy your
- resolution with hopes that are fallible; to-morrow you must die;
- go to your knees and make ready.
- CLAUDIO. Let me ask my sister pardon. I am so out of love with life
- that I will sue to be rid of it.
- DUKE. Hold you there. Farewell. [Exit CLAUDIO] Provost, a word with
- you.
-
- Re-enter PROVOST
-
- PROVOST. What's your will, father?
- DUKE. That, now you are come, you will be gone. Leave me a while
- with the maid; my mind promises with my habit no loss shall touch
- her by my company.
- PROVOST. In good time. Exit PROVOST
- DUKE. The hand that hath made you fair hath made you good; the
- goodness that is cheap in beauty makes beauty brief in goodness;
- but grace, being the soul of your complexion, shall keep the body
- of it ever fair. The assault that Angelo hath made to you,
- fortune hath convey'd to my understanding; and, but that frailty
- hath examples for his falling, I should wonder at Angelo. How
- will you do to content this substitute, and to save your brother?
- ISABELLA. I am now going to resolve him; I had rather my brother
- die by the law than my son should be unlawfully born. But, O, how
- much is the good Duke deceiv'd in Angelo! If ever he return, and
- I can speak to him, I will open my lips in vain, or discover his
- government.
- DUKE. That shall not be much amiss; yet, as the matter now stands,
- he will avoid your accusation: he made trial of you only.
- Therefore fasten your ear on my advisings; to the love I have in
- doing good a remedy presents itself. I do make myself believe
- that you may most uprighteously do a poor wronged lady a merited
- benefit; redeem your brother from the angry law; do no stain to
- your own gracious person; and much please the absent Duke, if
- peradventure he shall ever return to have hearing of this
- business.
- ISABELLA. Let me hear you speak farther; I have spirit to do
- anything that appears not foul in the truth of my spirit.
- DUKE. Virtue is bold, and goodness never fearful. Have you not
- heard speak of Mariana, the sister of Frederick, the great
- soldier who miscarried at sea?
- ISABELLA. I have heard of the lady, and good words went with her
- name.
- DUKE. She should this Angelo have married; was affianced to her by
- oath, and the nuptial appointed; between which time of the
- contract and limit of the solemnity her brother Frederick was
- wreck'd at sea, having in that perished vessel the dowry of his
- sister. But mark how heavily this befell to the poor gentlewoman:
- there she lost a noble and renowned brother, in his love toward
- her ever most kind and natural; with him the portion and sinew of
- her fortune, her marriage-dowry; with both, her combinate
- husband, this well-seeming Angelo.
- ISABELLA. Can this be so? Did Angelo so leave her?
- DUKE. Left her in her tears, and dried not one of them with his
- comfort; swallowed his vows whole, pretending in her discoveries
- of dishonour; in few, bestow'd her on her own lamentation, which
- she yet wears for his sake; and he, a marble to her tears, is
- washed with them, but relents not.
- ISABELLA. What a merit were it in death to take this poor maid from
- the world! What corruption in this life that it will let this man
- live! But how out of this can she avail?
- DUKE. It is a rupture that you may easily heal; and the cure of it
- not only saves your brother, but keeps you from dishonour in
- doing it.
- ISABELLA. Show me how, good father.
- DUKE. This forenamed maid hath yet in her the continuance of her
- first affection; his unjust unkindness, that in all reason should
- have quenched her love, hath, like an impediment in the current,
- made it more violent and unruly. Go you to Angelo; answer his
- requiring with a plausible obedience; agree with his demands to
- the point; only refer yourself to this advantage: first, that
- your stay with him may not be long; that the time may have all
- shadow and silence in it; and the place answer to convenience.
- This being granted in course- and now follows all: we shall
- advise this wronged maid to stead up your appointment, go in your
- place. If the encounter acknowledge itself hereafter, it may
- compel him to her recompense; and here, by this, is your brother
- saved, your honour untainted, the poor Mariana advantaged, and
- the corrupt deputy scaled. The maid will I frame and make fit for
- his attempt. If you think well to carry this as you may, the
- doubleness of the benefit defends the deceit from reproof. What
- think you of it?
- ISABELLA. The image of it gives me content already; and I trust it
- will grow to a most prosperous perfection.
- DUKE. It lies much in your holding up. Haste you speedily to
- Angelo; if for this night he entreat you to his bed, give him
- promise of satisfaction. I will presently to Saint Luke's; there,
- at the moated grange, resides this dejected Mariana. At that
- place call upon me; and dispatch with Angelo, that it may be
- quickly.
- ISABELLA. I thank you for this comfort. Fare you well, good father.
- Exeunt severally
-
-
-
-
-Scene II.
-The street before the prison
-
-Enter, on one side, DUKE disguised as before; on the other, ELBOW,
-and OFFICERS with POMPEY
-
- ELBOW. Nay, if there be no remedy for it, but that you will needs
- buy and sell men and women like beasts, we shall have all the
- world drink brown and white bastard.
- DUKE. O heavens! what stuff is here?
- POMPEY. 'Twas never merry world since, of two usuries, the merriest
- was put down, and the worser allow'd by order of law a furr'd
- gown to keep him warm; and furr'd with fox on lamb-skins too, to
- signify that craft, being richer than innocency, stands for the
- facing.
- ELBOW. Come your way, sir. Bless you, good father friar.
- DUKE. And you, good brother father. What offence hath this man made
- you, sir?
- ELBOW. Marry, sir, he hath offended the law; and, sir, we take him
- to be a thief too, sir, for we have found upon him, sir, a
- strange picklock, which we have sent to the deputy.
- DUKE. Fie, sirrah, a bawd, a wicked bawd!
- The evil that thou causest to be done,
- That is thy means to live. Do thou but think
- What 'tis to cram a maw or clothe a back
- From such a filthy vice; say to thyself
- 'From their abominable and beastly touches
- I drink, I eat, array myself, and live.'
- Canst thou believe thy living is a life,
- So stinkingly depending? Go mend, go mend.
- POMPEY. Indeed, it does stink in some sort, sir; but yet, sir,
- I would prove-
- DUKE. Nay, if the devil have given thee proofs for sin,
- Thou wilt prove his. Take him to prison, officer;
- Correction and instruction must both work
- Ere this rude beast will profit.
- ELBOW. He must before the deputy, sir; he has given him warning.
- The deputy cannot abide a whoremaster; if he be a whoremonger,
- and comes before him, he were as good go a mile on his errand.
- DUKE. That we were all, as some would seem to be,
- From our faults, as his faults from seeming, free.
- ELBOW. His neck will come to your waist- a cord, sir.
-
- Enter LUCIO
-
- POMPEY. I spy comfort; I cry bail. Here's a gentleman, and a friend
- of mine.
- LUCIO. How now, noble Pompey! What, at the wheels of Caesar? Art
- thou led in triumph? What, is there none of Pygmalion's images,
- newly made woman, to be had now for putting the hand in the
- pocket and extracting it clutch'd? What reply, ha? What say'st
- thou to this tune, matter, and method? Is't not drown'd i' th'
- last rain, ha? What say'st thou, trot? Is the world as it was,
- man? Which is the way? Is it sad, and few words? or how? The
- trick of it?
- DUKE. Still thus, and thus; still worse!
- LUCIO. How doth my dear morsel, thy mistress? Procures she still,
- ha?
- POMPEY. Troth, sir, she hath eaten up all her beef, and she is
- herself in the tub.
- LUCIO. Why, 'tis good; it is the right of it; it must be so; ever
- your fresh whore and your powder'd bawd- an unshunn'd
- consequence; it must be so. Art going to prison, Pompey?
- POMPEY. Yes, faith, sir.
- LUCIO. Why, 'tis not amiss, Pompey. Farewell; go, say I sent thee
- thither. For debt, Pompey- or how?
- ELBOW. For being a bawd, for being a bawd.
- LUCIO. Well, then, imprison him. If imprisonment be the due of a
- bawd, why, 'tis his right. Bawd is he doubtless, and of
- antiquity, too; bawd-born. Farewell, good Pompey. Commend me to
- the prison, Pompey. You will turn good husband now, Pompey; you
- will keep the house.
- POMPEY. I hope, sir, your good worship will be my bail.
- LUCIO. No, indeed, will I not, Pompey; it is not the wear. I will
- pray, Pompey, to increase your bondage. If you take it not
- patiently, why, your mettle is the more. Adieu trusty Pompey.
- Bless you, friar.
- DUKE. And you.
- LUCIO. Does Bridget paint still, Pompey, ha?
- ELBOW. Come your ways, sir; come.
- POMPEY. You will not bail me then, sir?
- LUCIO. Then, Pompey, nor now. What news abroad, friar? what news?
- ELBOW. Come your ways, sir; come.
- LUCIO. Go to kennel, Pompey, go.
-
- Exeunt ELBOW, POMPEY and OFFICERS
-
- What news, friar, of the Duke?
- DUKE. I know none. Can you tell me of any?
- LUCIO. Some say he is with the Emperor of Russia; other some, he is
- in Rome; but where is he, think you?
- DUKE. I know not where; but wheresoever, I wish him well.
- LUCIO. It was a mad fantastical trick of him to steal from the
- state and usurp the beggary he was never born to. Lord Angelo
- dukes it well in his absence; he puts transgression to't.
- DUKE. He does well in't.
- LUCIO. A little more lenity to lechery would do no harm in him;
- something too crabbed that way, friar.
- DUKE. It is too general a vice, and severity must cure it.
- LUCIO. Yes, in good sooth, the vice is of a great kindred; it is
- well allied; but it is impossible to extirp it quite, friar, till
- eating and drinking be put down. They say this Angelo was not
- made by man and woman after this downright way of creation. Is it
- true, think you?
- DUKE. How should he be made, then?
- LUCIO. Some report a sea-maid spawn'd him; some, that he was begot
- between two stock-fishes. But it is certain that when he makes
- water his urine is congeal'd ice; that I know to be true. And he
- is a motion generative; that's infallible.
- DUKE. You are pleasant, sir, and speak apace.
- LUCIO. Why, what a ruthless thing is this in him, for the rebellion
- of a codpiece to take away the life of a man! Would the Duke that
- is absent have done this? Ere he would have hang'd a man for the
- getting a hundred bastards, he would have paid for the nursing a
- thousand. He had some feeling of the sport; he knew the service,
- and that instructed him to mercy.
- DUKE. I never heard the absent Duke much detected for women; he was
- not inclin'd that way.
- LUCIO. O, sir, you are deceiv'd.
- DUKE. 'Tis not possible.
- LUCIO. Who- not the Duke? Yes, your beggar of fifty; and his use
- was to put a ducat in her clack-dish. The Duke had crotchets in
- him. He would be drunk too; that let me inform you.
- DUKE. You do him wrong, surely.
- LUCIO. Sir, I was an inward of his. A shy fellow was the Duke; and
- I believe I know the cause of his withdrawing.
- DUKE. What, I prithee, might be the cause?
- LUCIO. No, pardon; 'tis a secret must be lock'd within the teeth
- and the lips; but this I can let you understand: the greater file
- of the subject held the Duke to be wise.
- DUKE. Wise? Why, no question but he was.
- LUCIO. A very superficial, ignorant, unweighing fellow.
- DUKE. Either this is envy in you, folly, or mistaking; the very
- stream of his life, and the business he hath helmed, must, upon a
- warranted need, give him a better proclamation. Let him be but
- testimonied in his own bringings-forth, and he shall appear to
- the envious a scholar, a statesman, and a soldier. Therefore you
- speak unskilfully; or, if your knowledge be more, it is much
- dark'ned in your malice.
- LUCIO. Sir, I know him, and I love him.
- DUKE. Love talks with better knowledge, and knowledge with dearer
- love.
- LUCIO. Come, sir, I know what I know.
- DUKE. I can hardly believe that, since you know not what you speak.
- But, if ever the Duke return, as our prayers are he may, let me
- desire you to make your answer before him. If it be honest you
- have spoke, you have courage to maintain it; I am bound to call
- upon you; and I pray you your name?
- LUCIO. Sir, my name is Lucio, well known to the Duke.
- DUKE. He shall know you better, sir, if I may live to report you.
- LUCIO. I fear you not.
- DUKE. O, you hope the Duke will return no more; or you imagine me
- too unhurtful an opposite. But, indeed, I can do you little harm:
- you'll forswear this again.
- LUCIO. I'll be hang'd first. Thou art deceiv'd in me, friar. But no
- more of this. Canst thou tell if Claudio die to-morrow or no?
- DUKE. Why should he die, sir?
- LUCIO. Why? For filling a bottle with a tun-dish. I would the Duke
- we talk of were return'd again. This ungenitur'd agent will
- unpeople the province with continency; sparrows must not build in
- his house-eaves because they are lecherous. The Duke yet would
- have dark deeds darkly answered; he would never bring them to
- light. Would he were return'd! Marry, this Claudio is condemned
- for untrussing. Farewell, good friar; I prithee pray for me. The
- Duke, I say to thee again, would eat mutton on Fridays. He's not
- past it yet; and, I say to thee, he would mouth with a beggar
- though she smelt brown bread and garlic. Say that I said so.
- Farewell. Exit
- DUKE. No might nor greatness in mortality
- Can censure scape; back-wounding calumny
- The whitest virtue strikes. What king so strong
- Can tie the gall up in the slanderous tongue?
- But who comes here?
-
- Enter ESCALUS, PROVOST, and OFFICERS with
- MISTRESS OVERDONE
-
- ESCALUS. Go, away with her to prison.
- MRS. OVERDONE. Good my lord, be good to me; your honour is
- accounted a merciful man; good my lord.
- ESCALUS. Double and treble admonition, and still forfeit in the
- same kind! This would make mercy swear and play the tyrant.
- PROVOST. A bawd of eleven years' continuance, may it please your
- honour.
- MRS. OVERDONE. My lord, this is one Lucio's information against me.
- Mistress Kate Keepdown was with child by him in the Duke's time;
- he promis'd her marriage. His child is a year and a quarter old
- come Philip and Jacob; I have kept it myself; and see how he goes
- about to abuse me.
- ESCALUS. That fellow is a fellow of much license. Let him be call'd
- before us. Away with her to prison. Go to; no more words. [Exeunt
- OFFICERS with MISTRESS OVERDONE] Provost, my brother Angelo will
- not be alter'd: Claudio must die to-morrow. Let him be furnish'd
- with divines, and have all charitable preparation. If my brother
- wrought by my pity, it should not be so with him.
- PROVOST. So please you, this friar hath been with him, and advis'd
- him for th' entertainment of death.
- ESCALUS. Good even, good father.
- DUKE. Bliss and goodness on you!
- ESCALUS. Of whence are you?
- DUKE. Not of this country, though my chance is now
- To use it for my time. I am a brother
- Of gracious order, late come from the See
- In special business from his Holiness.
- ESCALUS. What news abroad i' th' world?
- DUKE. None, but that there is so great a fever on goodness that the
- dissolution of it must cure it. Novelty is only in request; and,
- as it is, as dangerous to be aged in any kind of course as it is
- virtuous to be constant in any undertakeing. There is scarce
- truth enough alive to make societies secure; but security enough
- to make fellowships accurst. Much upon this riddle runs the
- wisdom of the world. This news is old enough, yet it is every
- day's news. I pray you, sir, of what disposition was the Duke?
- ESCALUS. One that, above all other strifes, contended especially to
- know himself.
- DUKE. What pleasure was he given to?
- ESCALUS. Rather rejoicing to see another merry than merry at
- anything which profess'd to make him rejoice; a gentleman of all
- temperance. But leave we him to his events, with a prayer they
- may prove prosperous; and let me desire to know how you find
- Claudio prepar'd. I am made to understand that you have lent him
- visitation.
- DUKE. He professes to have received no sinister measure from his
- judge, but most willingly humbles himself to the determination of
- justice. Yet had he framed to himself, by the instruction of his
- frailty, many deceiving promises of life; which I, by my good
- leisure, have discredited to him, and now he is resolv'd to die.
- ESCALUS. You have paid the heavens your function, and the prisoner
- the very debt of your calling. I have labour'd for the poor
- gentleman to the extremest shore of my modesty; but my brother
- justice have I found so severe that he hath forc'd me to tell him
- he is indeed Justice.
- DUKE. If his own life answer the straitness of his proceeding, it
- shall become him well; wherein if he chance to fail, he hath
- sentenc'd himself.
- ESCALUS. I am going to visit the prisoner. Fare you well.
- DUKE. Peace be with you! Exeunt ESCALUS and PROVOST
-
- He who the sword of heaven will bear
- Should be as holy as severe;
- Pattern in himself to know,
- Grace to stand, and virtue go;
- More nor less to others paying
- Than by self-offences weighing.
- Shame to him whose cruel striking
- Kills for faults of his own liking!
- Twice treble shame on Angelo,
- To weed my vice and let his grow!
- O, what may man within him hide,
- Though angel on the outward side!
- How may likeness, made in crimes,
- Make a practice on the times,
- To draw with idle spiders' strings
- Most ponderous and substantial things!
- Craft against vice I must apply.
- With Angelo to-night shall lie
- His old betrothed but despised;
- So disguise shall, by th' disguised,
- Pay with falsehood false exacting,
- And perform an old contracting. Exit
-
-
-
-
-Act IV. Scene I.
-The moated grange at Saint Duke's
-
-Enter MARIANA; and BOY singing
-
- SONG
-
- Take, O, take those lips away,
- That so sweetly were forsworn;
- And those eyes, the break of day,
- Lights that do mislead the morn;
- But my kisses bring again, bring again;
- Seals of love, but seal'd in vain, seal'd in vain.
-
- Enter DUKE, disguised as before
-
- MARIANA. Break off thy song, and haste thee quick away;
- Here comes a man of comfort, whose advice
- Hath often still'd my brawling discontent. Exit BOY
- I cry you mercy, sir, and well could wish
- You had not found me here so musical.
- Let me excuse me, and believe me so,
- My mirth it much displeas'd, but pleas'd my woe.
- DUKE. 'Tis good; though music oft hath such a charm
- To make bad good and good provoke to harm.
- I pray you tell me hath anybody inquir'd for me here to-day. Much
- upon this time have I promis'd here to meet.
- MARIANA. You have not been inquir'd after; I have sat here all day.
-
- Enter ISABELLA
-
- DUKE. I do constantly believe you. The time is come even now. I
- shall crave your forbearance a little. May be I will call upon
- you anon, for some advantage to yourself.
- MARIANA. I am always bound to you. Exit
- DUKE. Very well met, and well come.
- What is the news from this good deputy?
- ISABELLA. He hath a garden circummur'd with brick,
- Whose western side is with a vineyard back'd;
- And to that vineyard is a planched gate
- That makes his opening with this bigger key;
- This other doth command a little door
- Which from the vineyard to the garden leads.
- There have I made my promise
- Upon the heavy middle of the night
- To call upon him.
- DUKE. But shall you on your knowledge find this way?
- ISABELLA. I have ta'en a due and wary note upon't;
- With whispering and most guilty diligence,
- In action all of precept, he did show me
- The way twice o'er.
- DUKE. Are there no other tokens
- Between you 'greed concerning her observance?
- ISABELLA. No, none, but only a repair i' th' dark;
- And that I have possess'd him my most stay
- Can be but brief; for I have made him know
- I have a servant comes with me along,
- That stays upon me; whose persuasion is
- I come about my brother.
- DUKE. 'Tis well borne up.
- I have not yet made known to Mariana
- A word of this. What ho, within! come forth.
-
- Re-enter MARIANA
-
- I pray you be acquainted with this maid;
- She comes to do you good.
- ISABELLA. I do desire the like.
- DUKE. Do you persuade yourself that I respect you?
- MARIANA. Good friar, I know you do, and have found it.
- DUKE. Take, then, this your companion by the hand,
- Who hath a story ready for your ear.
- I shall attend your leisure; but make haste;
- The vaporous night approaches.
- MARIANA. Will't please you walk aside?
- Exeunt MARIANA and ISABELLA
- DUKE. O place and greatness! Millions of false eyes
- Are stuck upon thee. Volumes of report
- Run with these false, and most contrarious quest
- Upon thy doings. Thousand escapes of wit
- Make thee the father of their idle dream,
- And rack thee in their fancies.
-
- Re-enter MARIANA and ISABELLA
-
- Welcome, how agreed?
- ISABELLA. She'll take the enterprise upon her, father,
- If you advise it.
- DUKE. It is not my consent,
- But my entreaty too.
- ISABELLA. Little have you to say,
- When you depart from him, but, soft and low,
- 'Remember now my brother.'
- MARIANA. Fear me not.
- DUKE. Nor, gentle daughter, fear you not at all.
- He is your husband on a pre-contract.
- To bring you thus together 'tis no sin,
- Sith that the justice of your title to him
- Doth flourish the deceit. Come, let us go;
- Our corn's to reap, for yet our tithe's to sow. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-The prison
-
-Enter PROVOST and POMPEY
-
- PROVOST. Come hither, sirrah. Can you cut off a man's head?
- POMPEY. If the man be a bachelor, sir, I can; but if he be a
- married man, he's his wife's head, and I can never cut of a
- woman's head.
- PROVOST. Come, sir, leave me your snatches and yield me a direct
- answer. To-morrow morning are to die Claudio and Barnardine. Here
- is in our prison a common executioner, who in his office lacks a
- helper; if you will take it on you to assist him, it shall redeem
- you from your gyves; if not, you shall have your full time of
- imprisonment, and your deliverance with an unpitied whipping, for
- you have been a notorious bawd.
- POMPEY. Sir, I have been an unlawful bawd time out of mind; but yet
- I will be content to be a lawful hangman. I would be glad to
- receive some instructions from my fellow partner.
- PROVOST. What ho, Abhorson! Where's Abhorson there?
-
- Enter ABHORSON
-
- ABHORSON. Do you call, sir?
- PROVOST. Sirrah, here's a fellow will help you to-morrow in your
- execution. If you think it meet, compound with him by the year,
- and let him abide here with you; if not, use him for the present,
- and dismiss him. He cannot plead his estimation with you; he hath
- been a bawd.
- ABHORSON. A bawd, sir? Fie upon him! He will discredit our mystery.
- PROVOST. Go to, sir; you weigh equally; a feather will turn the
- scale. Exit
- POMPEY. Pray, sir, by your good favour- for surely, sir, a good
- favour you have but that you have a hanging look- do you call,
- sir, your occupation a mystery?
- ABHORSON. Ay, sir; a mystery.
- POMPEY. Painting, sir, I have heard say, is a mystery; and your
- whores, sir, being members of my occupation, using painting, do
- prove my occupation a mystery; but what mystery there should be
- in hanging, if I should be hang'd, I cannot imagine.
- ABHORSON. Sir, it is a mystery.
- POMPEY. Proof?
- ABHORSON. Every true man's apparel fits your thief: if it be too
- little for your thief, your true man thinks it big enough; if it
- be too big for your thief, your thief thinks it little enough; so
- every true man's apparel fits your thief.
-
- Re-enter PROVOST
-
- PROVOST. Are you agreed?
- POMPEY. Sir, I will serve him; for I do find your hangman is a more
- penitent trade than your bawd; he doth oftener ask forgiveness.
- PROVOST. You, sirrah, provide your block and your axe to-morrow
- four o'clock.
- ABHORSON. Come on, bawd; I will instruct thee in my trade; follow.
- POMPEY. I do desire to learn, sir; and I hope, if you have occasion
- to use me for your own turn, you shall find me yare; for truly,
- sir, for your kindness I owe you a good turn.
- PROVOST. Call hither Barnardine and Claudio.
- Exeunt ABHORSON and POMPEY
- Th' one has my pity; not a jot the other,
- Being a murderer, though he were my brother.
-
- Enter CLAUDIO
-
- Look, here's the warrant, Claudio, for thy death;
- 'Tis now dead midnight, and by eight to-morrow
- Thou must be made immortal. Where's Barnardine?
- CLAUDIO. As fast lock'd up in sleep as guiltless labour
- When it lies starkly in the traveller's bones.
- He will not wake.
- PROVOST. Who can do good on him?
- Well, go, prepare yourself. [Knocking within] But hark, what
- noise?
- Heaven give your spirits comfort! Exit CLAUDIO
- [Knocking continues] By and by.
- I hope it is some pardon or reprieve
- For the most gentle Claudio.
-
- Enter DUKE, disguised as before
-
- Welcome, father.
- DUKE. The best and wholesom'st spirits of the night
- Envelop you, good Provost! Who call'd here of late?
- PROVOST. None, since the curfew rung.
- DUKE. Not Isabel?
- PROVOST. No.
- DUKE. They will then, ere't be long.
- PROVOST. What comfort is for Claudio?
- DUKE. There's some in hope.
- PROVOST. It is a bitter deputy.
- DUKE. Not so, not so; his life is parallel'd
- Even with the stroke and line of his great justice;
- He doth with holy abstinence subdue
- That in himself which he spurs on his pow'r
- To qualify in others. Were he meal'd with that
- Which he corrects, then were he tyrannous;
- But this being so, he's just. [Knocking within] Now are they
- come. Exit PROVOST
- This is a gentle provost; seldom when
- The steeled gaoler is the friend of men. [Knocking within]
- How now, what noise! That spirit's possess'd with haste
- That wounds th' unsisting postern with these strokes.
-
- Re-enter PROVOST
-
- PROVOST. There he must stay until the officer
- Arise to let him in; he is call'd up.
- DUKE. Have you no countermand for Claudio yet
- But he must die to-morrow?
- PROVOST. None, sir, none.
- DUKE. As near the dawning, Provost, as it is,
- You shall hear more ere morning.
- PROVOST. Happily
- You something know; yet I believe there comes
- No countermand; no such example have we.
- Besides, upon the very siege of justice,
- Lord Angelo hath to the public ear
- Profess'd the contrary.
-
- Enter a MESSENGER
- This is his lordship's man.
- DUKE. And here comes Claudio's pardon.
- MESSENGER. My lord hath sent you this note; and by me this further
- charge, that you swerve not from the smallest article of it,
- neither in time, matter, or other circumstance. Good morrow; for
- as I take it, it is almost day.
- PROVOST. I shall obey him. Exit MESSENGER
- DUKE. [Aside] This is his pardon, purchas'd by such sin
- For which the pardoner himself is in;
- Hence hath offence his quick celerity,
- When it is borne in high authority.
- When vice makes mercy, mercy's so extended
- That for the fault's love is th' offender friended.
- Now, sir, what news?
- PROVOST. I told you: Lord Angelo, belike thinking me remiss in mine
- office, awakens me with this unwonted putting-on; methinks
- strangely, for he hath not us'd it before.
- DUKE. Pray you, let's hear.
- PROVOST. [Reads] 'Whatsoever you may hear to the contrary, let
- Claudio be executed by four of the clock, and, in the afternoon,
- Barnardine. For my better satisfaction, let me have Claudio's
- head sent me by five. Let this be duly performed, with a thought
- that more depends on it than we must yet deliver. Thus fail not
- to do your office, as you will answer it at your peril.'
- What say you to this, sir?
- DUKE. What is that Barnardine who is to be executed in th'
- afternoon?
- PROVOST. A Bohemian born; but here nurs'd up and bred.
- One that is a prisoner nine years old.
- DUKE. How came it that the absent Duke had not either deliver'd him
- to his liberty or executed him? I have heard it was ever his
- manner to do so.
- PROVOST. His friends still wrought reprieves for him; and, indeed,
- his fact, till now in the government of Lord Angelo, came not to
- an undoubted proof.
- DUKE. It is now apparent?
- PROVOST. Most manifest, and not denied by himself.
- DUKE. Hath he borne himself penitently in prison? How seems he to
- be touch'd?
- PROVOST. A man that apprehends death no more dreadfully but as a
- drunken sleep; careless, reckless, and fearless, of what's past,
- present, or to come; insensible of mortality and desperately
- mortal.
- DUKE. He wants advice.
- PROVOST. He will hear none. He hath evermore had the liberty of the
- prison; give him leave to escape hence, he would not; drunk many
- times a day, if not many days entirely drunk. We have very oft
- awak'd him, as if to carry him to execution, and show'd him a
- seeming warrant for it; it hath not moved him at all.
- DUKE. More of him anon. There is written in your brow, Provost,
- honesty and constancy. If I read it not truly, my ancient skill
- beguiles me; but in the boldness of my cunning I will lay myself
- in hazard. Claudio, whom here you have warrant to execute, is no
- greater forfeit to the law than Angelo who hath sentenc'd him. To
- make you understand this in a manifested effect, I crave but four
- days' respite; for the which you are to do me both a present and
- a dangerous courtesy.
- PROVOST. Pray, sir, in what?
- DUKE. In the delaying death.
- PROVOST. Alack! How may I do it, having the hour limited, and an
- express command, under penalty, to deliver his head in the view
- of Angelo? I may make my case as Claudio's, to cross this in the
- smallest.
- DUKE. By the vow of mine order, I warrant you, if my instructions
- may be your guide. Let this Barnardine be this morning executed,
- and his head borne to Angelo.
- PROVOST. Angelo hath seen them both, and will discover the favour.
- DUKE. O, death's a great disguiser; and you may add to it. Shave
- the head and tie the beard; and say it was the desire of the
- penitent to be so bar'd before his death. You know the course is
- common. If anything fall to you upon this more than thanks and
- good fortune, by the saint whom I profess, I will plead against
- it with my life.
- PROVOST. Pardon me, good father; it is against my oath.
- DUKE. Were you sworn to the Duke, or to the deputy?
- PROVOST. To him and to his substitutes.
- DUKE. You will think you have made no offence if the Duke avouch
- the justice of your dealing?
- PROVOST. But what likelihood is in that?
- DUKE. Not a resemblance, but a certainty. Yet since I see you
- fearful, that neither my coat, integrity, nor persuasion, can
- with ease attempt you, I will go further than I meant, to pluck
- all fears out of you. Look you, sir, here is the hand and seal of
- the Duke. You know the character, I doubt not; and the signet is
- not strange to you.
- PROVOST. I know them both.
- DUKE. The contents of this is the return of the Duke; you shall
- anon over-read it at your pleasure, where you shall find within
- these two days he will be here. This is a thing that Angelo knows
- not; for he this very day receives letters of strange tenour,
- perchance of the Duke's death, perchance entering into some
- monastery; but, by chance, nothing of what is writ. Look, th'
- unfolding star calls up the shepherd. Put not yourself into
- amazement how these things should be: all difficulties are but
- easy when they are known. Call your executioner, and off with
- Barnardine's head. I will give him a present shrift, and advise
- him for a better place. Yet you are amaz'd, but this shall
- absolutely resolve you. Come away; it is almost clear dawn.
- Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-The prison
-
-Enter POMPEY
-
- POMPEY. I am as well acquainted here as I was in our house of
- profession; one would think it were Mistress Overdone's own
- house, for here be many of her old customers. First, here's young
- Master Rash; he's in for a commodity of brown paper and old
- ginger, nine score and seventeen pounds, of which he made five
- marks ready money. Marry, then ginger was not much in request,
- for the old women were all dead. Then is there here one Master
- Caper, at the suit of Master Threepile the mercer, for some four
- suits of peach-colour'd satin, which now peaches him a beggar.
- Then have we here young Dizy, and young Master Deepvow, and
- Master Copperspur, and Master Starvelackey, the rapier and dagger
- man, and young Dropheir that kill'd lusty Pudding, and Master
- Forthlight the tilter, and brave Master Shootie the great
- traveller, and wild Halfcan that stabb'd Pots, and, I think,
- forty more- all great doers in our trade, and are now 'for the
- Lord's sake.'
-
- Enter ABHORSON
-
- ABHORSON. Sirrah, bring Barnardine hither.
- POMPEY. Master Barnardine! You must rise and be hang'd, Master
- Barnardine!
- ABHORSON. What ho, Barnardine!
- BARNARDINE. [Within] A pox o' your throats! Who makes that noise
- there? What are you?
- POMPEY. Your friends, sir; the hangman. You must be so good, sir,
- to rise and be put to death.
- BARNARDINE. [ Within ] Away, you rogue, away; I am sleepy.
- ABHORSON. Tell him he must awake, and that quickly too.
- POMPEY. Pray, Master Barnardine, awake till you are executed, and
- sleep afterwards.
- ABHORSON. Go in to him, and fetch him out.
- POMPEY. He is coming, sir, he is coming; I hear his straw rustle.
-
- Enter BARNARDINE
-
- ABHORSON. Is the axe upon the block, sirrah?
- POMPEY. Very ready, sir.
- BARNARDINE. How now, Abhorson, what's the news with you?
- ABHORSON. Truly, sir, I would desire you to clap into your prayers;
- for, look you, the warrant's come.
- BARNARDINE. You rogue, I have been drinking all night; I am not
- fitted for't.
- POMPEY. O, the better, sir! For he that drinks all night and is
- hanged betimes in the morning may sleep the sounder all the next
- day.
-
- Enter DUKE, disguised as before
-
- ABHORSON. Look you, sir, here comes your ghostly father.
- Do we jest now, think you?
- DUKE. Sir, induced by my charity, and hearing how hastily you are
- to depart, I am come to advise you, comfort you, and pray with
- you.
- BARNARDINE. Friar, not I; I have been drinking hard all night, and
- I will have more time to prepare me, or they shall beat out my
- brains with billets. I will not consent to die this day, that's
- certain.
- DUKE. O, Sir, you must; and therefore I beseech you
- Look forward on the journey you shall go.
- BARNARDINE. I swear I will not die to-day for any man's persuasion.
- DUKE. But hear you-
- BARNARDINE. Not a word; if you have anything to say to me, come to
- my ward; for thence will not I to-day. Exit
- DUKE. Unfit to live or die. O gravel heart!
- After him, fellows; bring him to the block.
- Exeunt ABHORSON and POMPEY
-
- Enter PROVOST
-
- PROVOST. Now, sir, how do you find the prisoner?
- DUKE. A creature unprepar'd, unmeet for death;
- And to transport him in the mind he is
- Were damnable.
- PROVOST. Here in the prison, father,
- There died this morning of a cruel fever
- One Ragozine, a most notorious pirate,
- A man of Claudio's years; his beard and head
- Just of his colour. What if we do omit
- This reprobate till he were well inclin'd,
- And satisfy the deputy with the visage
- Of Ragozine, more like to Claudio?
- DUKE. O, 'tis an accident that heaven provides!
- Dispatch it presently; the hour draws on
- Prefix'd by Angelo. See this be done,
- And sent according to command; whiles I
- Persuade this rude wretch willingly to die.
- PROVOST. This shall be done, good father, presently.
- But Barnardine must die this afternoon;
- And how shall we continue Claudio,
- To save me from the danger that might come
- If he were known alive?
- DUKE. Let this be done:
- Put them in secret holds, both Barnardine and Claudio.
- Ere twice the sun hath made his journal greeting
- To the under generation, you shall find
- Your safety manifested.
- PROVOST. I am your free dependant.
- DUKE. Quick, dispatch, and send the head to Angelo.
- Exit PROVOST
- Now will I write letters to Angelo-
- The Provost, he shall bear them- whose contents
- Shall witness to him I am near at home,
- And that, by great injunctions, I am bound
- To enter publicly. Him I'll desire
- To meet me at the consecrated fount,
- A league below the city; and from thence,
- By cold gradation and well-balanc'd form.
- We shall proceed with Angelo.
-
- Re-enter PROVOST
-
- PROVOST. Here is the head; I'll carry it myself.
- DUKE. Convenient is it. Make a swift return;
- For I would commune with you of such things
- That want no ear but yours.
- PROVOST. I'll make all speed. Exit
- ISABELLA. [ Within ] Peace, ho, be here!
- DUKE. The tongue of Isabel. She's come to know
- If yet her brother's pardon be come hither;
- But I will keep her ignorant of her good,
- To make her heavenly comforts of despair
- When it is least expected.
-
- Enter ISABELLA
-
- ISABELLA. Ho, by your leave!
- DUKE. Good morning to you, fair and gracious daughter.
- ISABELLA. The better, given me by so holy a man.
- Hath yet the deputy sent my brother's pardon?
- DUKE. He hath releas'd him, Isabel, from the world.
- His head is off and sent to Angelo.
- ISABELLA. Nay, but it is not so.
- DUKE. It is no other.
- Show your wisdom, daughter, in your close patience,
- ISABELLA. O, I will to him and pluck out his eyes!
- DUKE. You shall not be admitted to his sight.
- ISABELLA. Unhappy Claudio! Wretched Isabel!
- Injurious world! Most damned Angelo!
- DUKE. This nor hurts him nor profits you a jot;
- Forbear it, therefore; give your cause to heaven.
- Mark what I say, which you shall find
- By every syllable a faithful verity.
- The Duke comes home to-morrow. Nay, dry your eyes.
- One of our covent, and his confessor,
- Gives me this instance. Already he hath carried
- Notice to Escalus and Angelo,
- Who do prepare to meet him at the gates,
- There to give up their pow'r. If you can, pace your wisdom
- In that good path that I would wish it go,
- And you shall have your bosom on this wretch,
- Grace of the Duke, revenges to your heart,
- And general honour.
- ISABELLA. I am directed by you.
- DUKE. This letter, then, to Friar Peter give;
- 'Tis that he sent me of the Duke's return.
- Say, by this token, I desire his company
- At Mariana's house to-night. Her cause and yours
- I'll perfect him withal; and he shall bring you
- Before the Duke; and to the head of Angelo
- Accuse him home and home. For my poor self,
- I am combined by a sacred vow,
- And shall be absent. Wend you with this letter.
- Command these fretting waters from your eyes
- With a light heart; trust not my holy order,
- If I pervert your course. Who's here?
-
- Enter LUCIO
-
- LUCIO. Good even. Friar, where's the Provost?
- DUKE. Not within, sir.
- LUCIO. O pretty Isabella, I am pale at mine heart to see thine eyes
- so red. Thou must be patient. I am fain to dine and sup with
- water and bran; I dare not for my head fill my belly; one
- fruitful meal would set me to't. But they say the Duke will be
- here to-morrow. By my troth, Isabel, I lov'd thy brother. If the
- old fantastical Duke of dark corners had been at home, he had
- lived. Exit ISABELLA
- DUKE. Sir, the Duke is marvellous little beholding to your reports;
- but the best is, he lives not in them.
- LUCIO. Friar, thou knowest not the Duke so well as I do; he's a
- better woodman than thou tak'st him for.
- DUKE. Well, you'll answer this one day. Fare ye well.
- LUCIO. Nay, tarry; I'll go along with thee; I can tell thee pretty
- tales of the Duke.
- DUKE. You have told me too many of him already, sir, if they be
- true; if not true, none were enough.
- LUCIO. I was once before him for getting a wench with child.
- DUKE. Did you such a thing?
- LUCIO. Yes, marry, did I; but I was fain to forswear it: they would
- else have married me to the rotten medlar.
- DUKE. Sir, your company is fairer than honest. Rest you well.
- LUCIO. By my troth, I'll go with thee to the lane's end. If bawdy
- talk offend you, we'll have very little of it. Nay, friar, I am a
- kind of burr; I shall stick. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE IV.
-ANGELO'S house
-
-Enter ANGELO and ESCALUS
-
- ESCALUS. Every letter he hath writ hath disvouch'd other.
- ANGELO. In most uneven and distracted manner. His actions show much
- like to madness; pray heaven his wisdom be not tainted! And why
- meet him at the gates, and redeliver our authorities there?
- ESCALUS. I guess not.
- ANGELO. And why should we proclaim it in an hour before his
- ent'ring that, if any crave redress of injustice, they should
- exhibit their petitions in the street?
- ESCALUS. He shows his reason for that: to have a dispatch of
- complaints; and to deliver us from devices hereafter, which
- shall then have no power to stand against us.
- ANGELO. Well, I beseech you, let it be proclaim'd;
- Betimes i' th' morn I'll call you at your house;
- Give notice to such men of sort and suit
- As are to meet him.
- ESCALUS. I shall, sir; fare you well.
- ANGELO. Good night. Exit ESCALUS
- This deed unshapes me quite, makes me unpregnant
- And dull to all proceedings. A deflow'red maid!
- And by an eminent body that enforc'd
- The law against it! But that her tender shame
- Will not proclaim against her maiden loss,
- How might she tongue me! Yet reason dares her no;
- For my authority bears a so credent bulk
- That no particular scandal once can touch
- But it confounds the breather. He should have liv'd,
- Save that his riotous youth, with dangerous sense,
- Might in the times to come have ta'en revenge,
- By so receiving a dishonour'd life
- With ransom of such shame. Would yet he had liv'd!
- Alack, when once our grace we have forgot,
- Nothing goes right; we would, and we would not. Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE V.
-Fields without the town
-
-Enter DUKE in his own habit, and Friar PETER
-
- DUKE. These letters at fit time deliver me. [Giving letters]
- The Provost knows our purpose and our plot.
- The matter being afoot, keep your instruction
- And hold you ever to our special drift;
- Though sometimes you do blench from this to that
- As cause doth minister. Go, call at Flavius' house,
- And tell him where I stay; give the like notice
- To Valentinus, Rowland, and to Crassus,
- And bid them bring the trumpets to the gate;
- But send me Flavius first.
- PETER. It shall be speeded well. Exit FRIAR
-
- Enter VARRIUS
-
- DUKE. I thank thee, Varrius; thou hast made good haste.
- Come, we will walk. There's other of our friends
- Will greet us here anon. My gentle Varrius! Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE VI.
-A street near the city gate
-
-Enter ISABELLA and MARIANA
-
- ISABELLA. To speak so indirectly I am loath;
- I would say the truth; but to accuse him so,
- That is your part. Yet I am advis'd to do it;
- He says, to veil full purpose.
- MARIANA. Be rul'd by him.
- ISABELLA. Besides, he tells me that, if peradventure
- He speak against me on the adverse side,
- I should not think it strange; for 'tis a physic
- That's bitter to sweet end.
- MARIANA. I would Friar Peter-
-
- Enter FRIAR PETER
-
- ISABELLA. O, peace! the friar is come.
- PETER. Come, I have found you out a stand most fit,
- Where you may have such vantage on the Duke
- He shall not pass you. Twice have the trumpets sounded;
- The generous and gravest citizens
- Have hent the gates, and very near upon
- The Duke is ent'ring; therefore, hence, away. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT V. SCENE I.
-The city gate
-
-Enter at several doors DUKE, VARRIUS, LORDS; ANGELO, ESCALUS, Lucio,
-PROVOST, OFFICERS, and CITIZENS
-
- DUKE. My very worthy cousin, fairly met!
- Our old and faithful friend, we are glad to see you.
- ANGELO, ESCALUS. Happy return be to your royal Grace!
- DUKE. Many and hearty thankings to you both.
- We have made inquiry of you, and we hear
- Such goodness of your justice that our soul
- Cannot but yield you forth to public thanks,
- Forerunning more requital.
- ANGELO. You make my bonds still greater.
- DUKE. O, your desert speaks loud; and I should wrong it
- To lock it in the wards of covert bosom,
- When it deserves, with characters of brass,
- A forted residence 'gainst the tooth of time
- And razure of oblivion. Give me your hand.
- And let the subject see, to make them know
- That outward courtesies would fain proclaim
- Favours that keep within. Come, Escalus,
- You must walk by us on our other hand,
- And good supporters are you.
-
- Enter FRIAR PETER and ISABELLA
-
- PETER. Now is your time; speak loud, and kneel before him.
- ISABELLA. Justice, O royal Duke! Vail your regard
- Upon a wrong'd- I would fain have said a maid!
- O worthy Prince, dishonour not your eye
- By throwing it on any other object
- Till you have heard me in my true complaint,
- And given me justice, justice, justice, justice.
- DUKE. Relate your wrongs. In what? By whom? Be brief.
- Here is Lord Angelo shall give you justice;
- Reveal yourself to him.
- ISABELLA. O worthy Duke,
- You bid me seek redemption of the devil!
- Hear me yourself; for that which I must speak
- Must either punish me, not being believ'd,
- Or wring redress from you. Hear me, O, hear me, here!
- ANGELO. My lord, her wits, I fear me, are not firm;
- She hath been a suitor to me for her brother,
- Cut off by course of justice-
- ISABELLA. By course of justice!
- ANGELO. And she will speak most bitterly and strange.
- ISABELLA. Most strange, but yet most truly, will I speak.
- That Angelo's forsworn, is it not strange?
- That Angelo's a murderer, is't not strange?
- That Angelo is an adulterous thief,
- An hypocrite, a virgin-violator,
- Is it not strange and strange?
- DUKE. Nay, it is ten times strange.
- ISABELLA. It is not truer he is Angelo
- Than this is all as true as it is strange;
- Nay, it is ten times true; for truth is truth
- To th' end of reck'ning.
- DUKE. Away with her. Poor soul,
- She speaks this in th' infirmity of sense.
- ISABELLA. O Prince! I conjure thee, as thou believ'st
- There is another comfort than this world,
- That thou neglect me not with that opinion
- That I am touch'd with madness. Make not impossible
- That which but seems unlike: 'tis not impossible
- But one, the wicked'st caitiff on the ground,
- May seem as shy, as grave, as just, as absolute,
- As Angelo; even so may Angelo,
- In all his dressings, characts, titles, forms,
- Be an arch-villain. Believe it, royal Prince,
- If he be less, he's nothing; but he's more,
- Had I more name for badness.
- DUKE. By mine honesty,
- If she be mad, as I believe no other,
- Her madness hath the oddest frame of sense,
- Such a dependency of thing on thing,
- As e'er I heard in madness.
- ISABELLA. O gracious Duke,
- Harp not on that; nor do not banish reason
- For inequality; but let your reason serve
- To make the truth appear where it seems hid,
- And hide the false seems true.
- DUKE. Many that are not mad
- Have, sure, more lack of reason. What would you say?
- ISABELLA. I am the sister of one Claudio,
- Condemn'd upon the act of fornication
- To lose his head; condemn'd by Angelo.
- I, in probation of a sisterhood,
- Was sent to by my brother; one Lucio
- As then the messenger-
- LUCIO. That's I, an't like your Grace.
- I came to her from Claudio, and desir'd her
- To try her gracious fortune with Lord Angelo
- For her poor brother's pardon.
- ISABELLA. That's he, indeed.
- DUKE. You were not bid to speak.
- LUCIO. No, my good lord;
- Nor wish'd to hold my peace.
- DUKE. I wish you now, then;
- Pray you take note of it; and when you have
- A business for yourself, pray heaven you then
- Be perfect.
- LUCIO. I warrant your honour.
- DUKE. The warrant's for yourself; take heed to't.
- ISABELLA. This gentleman told somewhat of my tale.
- LUCIO. Right.
- DUKE. It may be right; but you are i' the wrong
- To speak before your time. Proceed.
- ISABELLA. I went
- To this pernicious caitiff deputy.
- DUKE. That's somewhat madly spoken.
- ISABELLA. Pardon it;
- The phrase is to the matter.
- DUKE. Mended again. The matter- proceed.
- ISABELLA. In brief- to set the needless process by,
- How I persuaded, how I pray'd, and kneel'd,
- How he refell'd me, and how I replied,
- For this was of much length- the vile conclusion
- I now begin with grief and shame to utter:
- He would not, but by gift of my chaste body
- To his concupiscible intemperate lust,
- Release my brother; and, after much debatement,
- My sisterly remorse confutes mine honour,
- And I did yield to him. But the next morn betimes,
- His purpose surfeiting, he sends a warrant
- For my poor brother's head.
- DUKE. This is most likely!
- ISABELLA. O that it were as like as it is true!
- DUKE. By heaven, fond wretch, thou know'st not what thou speak'st,
- Or else thou art suborn'd against his honour
- In hateful practice. First, his integrity
- Stands without blemish; next, it imports no reason
- That with such vehemency he should pursue
- Faults proper to himself. If he had so offended,
- He would have weigh'd thy brother by himself,
- And not have cut him off. Some one hath set you on;
- Confess the truth, and say by whose advice
- Thou cam'st here to complain.
- ISABELLA. And is this all?
- Then, O you blessed ministers above,
- Keep me in patience; and, with ripened time,
- Unfold the evil which is here wrapt up
- In countenance! Heaven shield your Grace from woe,
- As I, thus wrong'd, hence unbelieved go!
- DUKE. I know you'd fain be gone. An officer!
- To prison with her! Shall we thus permit
- A blasting and a scandalous breath to fall
- On him so near us? This needs must be a practice.
- Who knew of your intent and coming hither?
- ISABELLA. One that I would were here, Friar Lodowick.
- DUKE. A ghostly father, belike. Who knows that Lodowick?
- LUCIO. My lord, I know him; 'tis a meddling friar.
- I do not like the man; had he been lay, my lord,
- For certain words he spake against your Grace
- In your retirement, I had swing'd him soundly.
- DUKE. Words against me? This's a good friar, belike!
- And to set on this wretched woman here
- Against our substitute! Let this friar be found.
- LUCIO. But yesternight, my lord, she and that friar,
- I saw them at the prison; a saucy friar,
- A very scurvy fellow.
- PETER. Blessed be your royal Grace!
- I have stood by, my lord, and I have heard
- Your royal ear abus'd. First, hath this woman
- Most wrongfully accus'd your substitute;
- Who is as free from touch or soil with her
- As she from one ungot.
- DUKE. We did believe no less.
- Know you that Friar Lodowick that she speaks of?
- PETER. I know him for a man divine and holy;
- Not scurvy, nor a temporary meddler,
- As he's reported by this gentleman;
- And, on my trust, a man that never yet
- Did, as he vouches, misreport your Grace.
- LUCIO. My lord, most villainously; believe it.
- PETER. Well, he in time may come to clear himself;
- But at this instant he is sick, my lord,
- Of a strange fever. Upon his mere request-
- Being come to knowledge that there was complaint
- Intended 'gainst Lord Angelo- came I hither
- To speak, as from his mouth, what he doth know
- Is true and false; and what he, with his oath
- And all probation, will make up full clear,
- Whensoever he's convented. First, for this woman-
- To justify this worthy nobleman,
- So vulgarly and personally accus'd-
- Her shall you hear disproved to her eyes,
- Till she herself confess it.
- DUKE. Good friar, let's hear it. Exit ISABELLA guarded
- Do you not smile at this, Lord Angelo?
- O heaven, the vanity of wretched fools!
- Give us some seats. Come, cousin Angelo;
- In this I'll be impartial; be you judge
- Of your own cause.
-
- Enter MARIANA veiled
-
- Is this the witness, friar?
- FIRST let her show her face, and after speak.
- MARIANA. Pardon, my lord; I will not show my face
- Until my husband bid me.
- DUKE. What, are you married?
- MARIANA. No, my lord.
- DUKE. Are you a maid?
- MARIANA. No, my lord.
- DUKE. A widow, then?
- MARIANA. Neither, my lord.
- DUKE. Why, you are nothing then; neither maid, widow, nor wife.
- LUCIO. My lord, she may be a punk; for many of them are neither
- maid, widow, nor wife.
- DUKE. Silence that fellow. I would he had some cause
- To prattle for himself.
- LUCIO. Well, my lord.
- MARIANA. My lord, I do confess I ne'er was married,
- And I confess, besides, I am no maid.
- I have known my husband; yet my husband
- Knows not that ever he knew me.
- LUCIO. He was drunk, then, my lord; it can be no better.
- DUKE. For the benefit of silence, would thou wert so too!
- LUCIO. Well, my lord.
- DUKE. This is no witness for Lord Angelo.
- MARIANA. Now I come to't, my lord:
- She that accuses him of fornication,
- In self-same manner doth accuse my husband;
- And charges him, my lord, with such a time
- When I'll depose I had him in mine arms,
- With all th' effect of love.
- ANGELO. Charges she moe than me?
- MARIANA. Not that I know.
- DUKE. No? You say your husband.
- MARIANA. Why, just, my lord, and that is Angelo,
- Who thinks he knows that he ne'er knew my body,
- But knows he thinks that he knows Isabel's.
- ANGELO. This is a strange abuse. Let's see thy face.
- MARIANA. My husband bids me; now I will unmask.
- [Unveiling]
- This is that face, thou cruel Angelo,
- Which once thou swor'st was worth the looking on;
- This is the hand which, with a vow'd contract,
- Was fast belock'd in thine; this is the body
- That took away the match from Isabel,
- And did supply thee at thy garden-house
- In her imagin'd person.
- DUKE. Know you this woman?
- LUCIO. Carnally, she says.
- DUKE. Sirrah, no more.
- LUCIO. Enough, my lord.
- ANGELO. My lord, I must confess I know this woman;
- And five years since there was some speech of marriage
- Betwixt myself and her; which was broke off,
- Partly for that her promised proportions
- Came short of composition; but in chief
- For that her reputation was disvalued
- In levity. Since which time of five years
- I never spake with her, saw her, nor heard from her,
- Upon my faith and honour.
- MARIANA. Noble Prince,
- As there comes light from heaven and words from breath,
- As there is sense in truth and truth in virtue,
- I am affianc'd this man's wife as strongly
- As words could make up vows. And, my good lord,
- But Tuesday night last gone, in's garden-house,
- He knew me as a wife. As this is true,
- Let me in safety raise me from my knees,
- Or else for ever be confixed here,
- A marble monument!
- ANGELO. I did but smile till now.
- Now, good my lord, give me the scope of justice;
- My patience here is touch'd. I do perceive
- These poor informal women are no more
- But instruments of some more mightier member
- That sets them on. Let me have way, my lord,
- To find this practice out.
- DUKE. Ay, with my heart;
- And punish them to your height of pleasure.
- Thou foolish friar, and thou pernicious woman,
- Compact with her that's gone, think'st thou thy oaths,
- Though they would swear down each particular saint,
- Were testimonies against his worth and credit,
- That's seal'd in approbation? You, Lord Escalus,
- Sit with my cousin; lend him your kind pains
- To find out this abuse, whence 'tis deriv'd.
- There is another friar that set them on;
- Let him be sent for.
- PETER. Would lie were here, my lord! For he indeed
- Hath set the women on to this complaint.
- Your provost knows the place where he abides,
- And he may fetch him.
- DUKE. Go, do it instantly. Exit PROVOST
- And you, my noble and well-warranted cousin,
- Whom it concerns to hear this matter forth,
- Do with your injuries as seems you best
- In any chastisement. I for a while will leave you;
- But stir not you till you have well determin'd
- Upon these slanderers.
- ESCALUS. My lord, we'll do it throughly. Exit DUKE
- Signior Lucio, did not you say you knew that Friar Lodowick to be
- a dishonest person?
- LUCIO. 'Cucullus non facit monachum': honest in nothing but in his
- clothes; and one that hath spoke most villainous speeches of the
- Duke.
- ESCALUS. We shall entreat you to abide here till he come and
- enforce them against him. We shall find this friar a notable
- fellow.
- LUCIO. As any in Vienna, on my word.
- ESCALUS. Call that same Isabel here once again; I would speak with
- her. [Exit an ATTENDANT] Pray you, my lord, give me leave to
- question; you shall see how I'll handle her.
- LUCIO. Not better than he, by her own report.
- ESCALUS. Say you?
- LUCIO. Marry, sir, I think, if you handled her privately, she would
- sooner confess; perchance, publicly, she'll be asham'd.
-
- Re-enter OFFICERS with ISABELLA; and PROVOST with the
- DUKE in his friar's habit
-
- ESCALUS. I will go darkly to work with her.
- LUCIO. That's the way; for women are light at midnight.
- ESCALUS. Come on, mistress; here's a gentlewoman denies all that
- you have said.
- LUCIO. My lord, here comes the rascal I spoke of, here with the
- Provost.
- ESCALUS. In very good time. Speak not you to him till we call upon
- you.
- LUCIO. Mum.
- ESCALUS. Come, sir; did you set these women on to slander Lord
- Angelo? They have confess'd you did.
- DUKE. 'Tis false.
- ESCALUS. How! Know you where you are?
- DUKE. Respect to your great place! and let the devil
- Be sometime honour'd for his burning throne!
- Where is the Duke? 'Tis he should hear me speak.
- ESCALUS. The Duke's in us; and we will hear you speak;
- Look you speak justly.
- DUKE. Boldly, at least. But, O, poor souls,
- Come you to seek the lamb here of the fox,
- Good night to your redress! Is the Duke gone?
- Then is your cause gone too. The Duke's unjust
- Thus to retort your manifest appeal,
- And put your trial in the villain's mouth
- Which here you come to accuse.
- LUCIO. This is the rascal; this is he I spoke of.
- ESCALUS. Why, thou unreverend and unhallowed friar,
- Is't not enough thou hast suborn'd these women
- To accuse this worthy man, but, in foul mouth,
- And in the witness of his proper ear,
- To call him villain; and then to glance from him
- To th' Duke himself, to tax him with injustice?
- Take him hence; to th' rack with him! We'll touze you
- Joint by joint, but we will know his purpose.
- What, 'unjust'!
- DUKE. Be not so hot; the Duke
- Dare no more stretch this finger of mine than he
- Dare rack his own; his subject am I not,
- Nor here provincial. My business in this state
- Made me a looker-on here in Vienna,
- Where I have seen corruption boil and bubble
- Till it o'errun the stew: laws for all faults,
- But faults so countenanc'd that the strong statutes
- Stand like the forfeits in a barber's shop,
- As much in mock as mark.
- ESCALUS. Slander to th' state! Away with him to prison!
- ANGELO. What can you vouch against him, Signior Lucio?
- Is this the man that you did tell us of?
- LUCIO. 'Tis he, my lord. Come hither, good-man bald-pate.
- Do you know me?
- DUKE. I remember you, sir, by the sound of your voice. I met you at
- the prison, in the absence of the Duke.
- LUCIO. O did you so? And do you remember what you said of the Duke?
- DUKE. Most notedly, sir.
- LUCIO. Do you so, sir? And was the Duke a fleshmonger, a fool, and
- a coward, as you then reported him to be?
- DUKE. You must, sir, change persons with me ere you make that my
- report; you, indeed, spoke so of him; and much more, much worse.
- LUCIO. O thou damnable fellow! Did not I pluck thee by the nose for
- thy speeches?
- DUKE. I protest I love the Duke as I love myself.
- ANGELO. Hark how the villain would close now, after his treasonable
- abuses!
- ESCALUS. Such a fellow is not to be talk'd withal. Away with him to
- prison! Where is the Provost? Away with him to prison! Lay bolts
- enough upon him; let him speak no more. Away with those giglets
- too, and with the other confederate companion!
- [The PROVOST lays bands on the DUKE]
- DUKE. Stay, sir; stay awhile.
- ANGELO. What, resists he? Help him, Lucio.
- LUCIO. Come, sir; come, sir; come, sir; foh, sir! Why, you
- bald-pated lying rascal, you must be hooded, must you? Show your
- knave's visage, with a pox to you! Show your sheep-biting face,
- and be hang'd an hour! Will't not off?
- [Pulls off the FRIAR'S bood and discovers the DUKE]
- DUKE. Thou art the first knave that e'er mad'st a duke.
- First, Provost, let me bail these gentle three.
- [To Lucio] Sneak not away, sir, for the friar and you
- Must have a word anon. Lay hold on him.
- LUCIO. This may prove worse than hanging.
- DUKE. [To ESCALUS] What you have spoke I pardon; sit you down.
- We'll borrow place of him. [To ANGELO] Sir, by your leave.
- Hast thou or word, or wit, or impudence,
- That yet can do thee office? If thou hast,
- Rely upon it till my tale be heard,
- And hold no longer out.
- ANGELO. O my dread lord,
- I should be guiltier than my guiltiness,
- To think I can be undiscernible,
- When I perceive your Grace, like pow'r divine,
- Hath look'd upon my passes. Then, good Prince,
- No longer session hold upon my shame,
- But let my trial be mine own confession;
- Immediate sentence then, and sequent death,
- Is all the grace I beg.
- DUKE. Come hither, Mariana.
- Say, wast thou e'er contracted to this woman?
- ANGELO. I was, my lord.
- DUKE. Go, take her hence and marry her instantly.
- Do you the office, friar; which consummate,
- Return him here again. Go with him, Provost.
- Exeunt ANGELO, MARIANA, FRIAR PETER, and PROVOST
- ESCALUS. My lord, I am more amaz'd at his dishonour
- Than at the strangeness of it.
- DUKE. Come hither, Isabel.
- Your friar is now your prince. As I was then
- Advertising and holy to your business,
- Not changing heart with habit, I am still
- Attorney'd at your service.
- ISABELLA. O, give me pardon,
- That I, your vassal have employ'd and pain'd
- Your unknown sovereignty.
- DUKE. You are pardon'd, Isabel.
- And now, dear maid, be you as free to us.
- Your brother's death, I know, sits at your heart;
- And you may marvel why I obscur'd myself,
- Labouring to save his life, and would not rather
- Make rash remonstrance of my hidden pow'r
- Than let him so be lost. O most kind maid,
- It was the swift celerity of his death,
- Which I did think with slower foot came on,
- That brain'd my purpose. But peace be with him!
- That life is better life, past fearing death,
- Than that which lives to fear. Make it your comfort,
- So happy is your brother.
- ISABELLA. I do, my lord.
-
- Re-enter ANGELO, MARIANA, FRIAR PETER, and PROVOST
-
- DUKE. For this new-married man approaching here,
- Whose salt imagination yet hath wrong'd
- Your well-defended honour, you must pardon
- For Mariana's sake; but as he adjudg'd your brother-
- Being criminal in double violation
- Of sacred chastity and of promise-breach,
- Thereon dependent, for your brother's life-
- The very mercy of the law cries out
- Most audible, even from his proper tongue,
- 'An Angelo for Claudio, death for death!'
- Haste still pays haste, and leisure answers leisure;
- Like doth quit like, and Measure still for Measure.
- Then, Angelo, thy fault's thus manifested,
- Which, though thou wouldst deny, denies thee vantage.
- We do condemn thee to the very block
- Where Claudio stoop'd to death, and with like haste.
- Away with him!
- MARIANA. O my most gracious lord,
- I hope you will not mock me with a husband.
- DUKE. It is your husband mock'd you with a husband.
- Consenting to the safeguard of your honour,
- I thought your marriage fit; else imputation,
- For that he knew you, might reproach your life,
- And choke your good to come. For his possessions,
- Although by confiscation they are ours,
- We do instate and widow you withal
- To buy you a better husband.
- MARIANA. O my dear lord,
- I crave no other, nor no better man.
- DUKE. Never crave him; we are definitive.
- MARIANA. Gentle my liege- [Kneeling]
- DUKE. You do but lose your labour.
- Away with him to death! [To LUCIO] Now, sir, to you.
- MARIANA. O my good lord! Sweet Isabel, take my part;
- Lend me your knees, and all my life to come
- I'll lend you all my life to do you service.
- DUKE. Against all sense you do importune her.
- Should she kneel down in mercy of this fact,
- Her brother's ghost his paved bed would break,
- And take her hence in horror.
- MARIANA. Isabel,
- Sweet Isabel, do yet but kneel by me;
- Hold up your hands, say nothing; I'll speak all.
- They say best men moulded out of faults;
- And, for the most, become much more the better
- For being a little bad; so may my husband.
- O Isabel, will you not lend a knee?
- DUKE. He dies for Claudio's death.
- ISABELLA. [Kneeling] Most bounteous sir,
- Look, if it please you, on this man condemn'd,
- As if my brother liv'd. I partly think
- A due sincerity govern'd his deeds
- Till he did look on me; since it is so,
- Let him not die. My brother had but justice,
- In that he did the thing for which he died;
- For Angelo,
- His act did not o'ertake his bad intent,
- And must be buried but as an intent
- That perish'd by the way. Thoughts are no subjects;
- Intents but merely thoughts.
- MARIANA. Merely, my lord.
- DUKE. Your suit's unprofitable; stand up, I say.
- I have bethought me of another fault.
- Provost, how came it Claudio was beheaded
- At an unusual hour?
- PROVOST. It was commanded so.
- DUKE. Had you a special warrant for the deed?
- PROVOST. No, my good lord; it was by private message.
- DUKE. For which I do discharge you of your office;
- Give up your keys.
- PROVOST. Pardon me, noble lord;
- I thought it was a fault, but knew it not;
- Yet did repent me, after more advice;
- For testimony whereof, one in the prison,
- That should by private order else have died,
- I have reserv'd alive.
- DUKE. What's he?
- PROVOST. His name is Barnardine.
- DUKE. I would thou hadst done so by Claudio.
- Go fetch him hither; let me look upon him. Exit PROVOST
- ESCALUS. I am sorry one so learned and so wise
- As you, Lord Angelo, have still appear'd,
- Should slip so grossly, both in the heat of blood
- And lack of temper'd judgment afterward.
- ANGELO. I am sorry that such sorrow I procure;
- And so deep sticks it in my penitent heart
- That I crave death more willingly than mercy;
- 'Tis my deserving, and I do entreat it.
-
- Re-enter PROVOST, with BARNARDINE, CLAUDIO (muffled)
- and JULIET
-
- DUKE. Which is that Barnardine?
- PROVOST. This, my lord.
- DUKE. There was a friar told me of this man.
- Sirrah, thou art said to have a stubborn soul,
- That apprehends no further than this world,
- And squar'st thy life according. Thou'rt condemn'd;
- But, for those earthly faults, I quit them all,
- And pray thee take this mercy to provide
- For better times to come. Friar, advise him;
- I leave him to your hand. What muffl'd fellow's that?
- PROVOST. This is another prisoner that I sav'd,
- Who should have died when Claudio lost his head;
- As like almost to Claudio as himself. [Unmuffles CLAUDIO]
- DUKE. [To ISABELLA] If he be like your brother, for his sake
- Is he pardon'd; and for your lovely sake,
- Give me your hand and say you will be mine,
- He is my brother too. But fitter time for that.
- By this Lord Angelo perceives he's safe;
- Methinks I see a quick'ning in his eye.
- Well, Angelo, your evil quits you well.
- Look that you love your wife; her worth worth yours.
- I find an apt remission in myself;
- And yet here's one in place I cannot pardon.
- To Lucio] You, sirrah, that knew me for a fool, a coward,
- One all of luxury, an ass, a madman!
- Wherein have I so deserv'd of you
- That you extol me thus?
- LUCIO. Faith, my lord, I spoke it but according to the trick.
- If you will hang me for it, you may; but I had rather it would
- please you I might be whipt.
- DUKE. Whipt first, sir, and hang'd after.
- Proclaim it, Provost, round about the city,
- If any woman wrong'd by this lewd fellow-
- As I have heard him swear himself there's one
- Whom he begot with child, let her appear,
- And he shall marry her. The nuptial finish'd,
- Let him be whipt and hang'd.
- LUCIO. I beseech your Highness, do not marry me to a whore. Your
- Highness said even now I made you a duke; good my lord, do not
- recompense me in making me a cuckold.
- DUKE. Upon mine honour, thou shalt marry her.
- Thy slanders I forgive; and therewithal
- Remit thy other forfeits. Take him to prison;
- And see our pleasure herein executed.
- LUCIO. Marrying a punk, my lord, is pressing to death, whipping,
- and hanging.
- DUKE. Slandering a prince deserves it.
- Exeunt OFFICERS with LUCIO
- She, Claudio, that you wrong'd, look you restore.
- Joy to you, Mariana! Love her, Angelo;
- I have confess'd her, and I know her virtue.
- Thanks, good friend Escalus, for thy much goodness;
- There's more behind that is more gratulate.
- Thanks, Provost, for thy care and secrecy;
- We shall employ thee in a worthier place.
- Forgive him, Angelo, that brought you home
- The head of Ragozine for Claudio's:
- Th' offence pardons itself. Dear Isabel,
- I have a motion much imports your good;
- Whereto if you'll a willing ear incline,
- What's mine is yours, and what is yours is mine.
- So, bring us to our palace, where we'll show
- What's yet behind that's meet you all should know.
- Exeunt
-
-THE END
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-
-
-1597
-
-THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
-
-by William Shakespeare
-
-
-
-DRAMATIS PERSONAE
-
- THE DUKE OF VENICE
- THE PRINCE OF MOROCCO, suitor to Portia
- THE PRINCE OF ARRAGON, " " "
- ANTONIO, a merchant of Venice
- BASSANIO, his friend, suitor to Portia
- SOLANIO, friend to Antonio and Bassanio
- SALERIO, " " " " "
- GRATIANO, " " " " "
- LORENZO, in love with Jessica
- SHYLOCK, a rich Jew
- TUBAL, a Jew, his friend
- LAUNCELOT GOBBO, a clown, servant to Shylock
- OLD GOBBO, father to Launcelot
- LEONARDO, servant to Bassanio
- BALTHASAR, servant to Portia
- STEPHANO, " " "
-
- PORTIA, a rich heiress
- NERISSA, her waiting-maid
- JESSICA, daughter to Shylock
-
- Magnificoes of Venice, Officers of the Court of Justice,
- Gaoler, Servants, and other Attendants
-
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-SCENE:
-Venice, and PORTIA'S house at Belmont
-
-
-ACT I. SCENE I.
-Venice. A street
-
-Enter ANTONIO, SALERIO, and SOLANIO
-
- ANTONIO. In sooth, I know not why I am so sad.
- It wearies me; you say it wearies you;
- But how I caught it, found it, or came by it,
- What stuff 'tis made of, whereof it is born,
- I am to learn;
- And such a want-wit sadness makes of me
- That I have much ado to know myself.
- SALERIO. Your mind is tossing on the ocean;
- There where your argosies, with portly sail-
- Like signiors and rich burghers on the flood,
- Or as it were the pageants of the sea-
- Do overpeer the petty traffickers,
- That curtsy to them, do them reverence,
- As they fly by them with their woven wings.
- SOLANIO. Believe me, sir, had I such venture forth,
- The better part of my affections would
- Be with my hopes abroad. I should be still
- Plucking the grass to know where sits the wind,
- Peering in maps for ports, and piers, and roads;
- And every object that might make me fear
- Misfortune to my ventures, out of doubt,
- Would make me sad.
- SALERIO. My wind, cooling my broth,
- Would blow me to an ague when I thought
- What harm a wind too great might do at sea.
- I should not see the sandy hour-glass run
- But I should think of shallows and of flats,
- And see my wealthy Andrew dock'd in sand,
- Vailing her high top lower than her ribs
- To kiss her burial. Should I go to church
- And see the holy edifice of stone,
- And not bethink me straight of dangerous rocks,
- Which, touching but my gentle vessel's side,
- Would scatter all her spices on the stream,
- Enrobe the roaring waters with my silks,
- And, in a word, but even now worth this,
- And now worth nothing? Shall I have the thought
- To think on this, and shall I lack the thought
- That such a thing bechanc'd would make me sad?
- But tell not me; I know Antonio
- Is sad to think upon his merchandise.
- ANTONIO. Believe me, no; I thank my fortune for it,
- My ventures are not in one bottom trusted,
- Nor to one place; nor is my whole estate
- Upon the fortune of this present year;
- Therefore my merchandise makes me not sad.
- SOLANIO. Why then you are in love.
- ANTONIO. Fie, fie!
- SOLANIO. Not in love neither? Then let us say you are sad
- Because you are not merry; and 'twere as easy
- For you to laugh and leap and say you are merry,
- Because you are not sad. Now, by two-headed Janus,
- Nature hath fram'd strange fellows in her time:
- Some that will evermore peep through their eyes,
- And laugh like parrots at a bag-piper;
- And other of such vinegar aspect
- That they'll not show their teeth in way of smile
- Though Nestor swear the jest be laughable.
-
- Enter BASSANIO, LORENZO, and GRATIANO
-
- Here comes Bassanio, your most noble kinsman,
- Gratiano and Lorenzo. Fare ye well;
- We leave you now with better company.
- SALERIO. I would have stay'd till I had made you merry,
- If worthier friends had not prevented me.
- ANTONIO. Your worth is very dear in my regard.
- I take it your own business calls on you,
- And you embrace th' occasion to depart.
- SALERIO. Good morrow, my good lords.
- BASSANIO. Good signiors both, when shall we laugh? Say when.
- You grow exceeding strange; must it be so?
- SALERIO. We'll make our leisures to attend on yours.
- Exeunt SALERIO and SOLANIO
- LORENZO. My Lord Bassanio, since you have found Antonio,
- We two will leave you; but at dinner-time,
- I pray you, have in mind where we must meet.
- BASSANIO. I will not fail you.
- GRATIANO. You look not well, Signior Antonio;
- You have too much respect upon the world;
- They lose it that do buy it with much care.
- Believe me, you are marvellously chang'd.
- ANTONIO. I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano-
- A stage, where every man must play a part,
- And mine a sad one.
- GRATIANO. Let me play the fool.
- With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come;
- And let my liver rather heat with wine
- Than my heart cool with mortifying groans.
- Why should a man whose blood is warm within
- Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster,
- Sleep when he wakes, and creep into the jaundice
- By being peevish? I tell thee what, Antonio-
- I love thee, and 'tis my love that speaks-
- There are a sort of men whose visages
- Do cream and mantle like a standing pond,
- And do a wilful stillness entertain,
- With purpose to be dress'd in an opinion
- Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit;
- As who should say 'I am Sir Oracle,
- And when I ope my lips let no dog bark.'
- O my Antonio, I do know of these
- That therefore only are reputed wise
- For saying nothing; when, I am very sure,
- If they should speak, would almost damn those ears
- Which, hearing them, would call their brothers fools.
- I'll tell thee more of this another time.
- But fish not with this melancholy bait
- For this fool gudgeon, this opinion.
- Come, good Lorenzo. Fare ye well awhile;
- I'll end my exhortation after dinner.
- LORENZO. Well, we will leave you then till dinner-time.
- I must be one of these same dumb wise men,
- For Gratiano never lets me speak.
- GRATIANO. Well, keep me company but two years moe,
- Thou shalt not know the sound of thine own tongue.
- ANTONIO. Fare you well; I'll grow a talker for this gear.
- GRATIANO. Thanks, i' faith, for silence is only commendable
- In a neat's tongue dried, and a maid not vendible.
- Exeunt GRATIANO and LORENZO
- ANTONIO. Is that anything now?
- BASSANIO. Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing, more than
- any man in all Venice. His reasons are as two grains of wheat hid
- in, two bushels of chaff: you shall seek all day ere you find
- them, and when you have them they are not worth the search.
- ANTONIO. Well; tell me now what lady is the same
- To whom you swore a secret pilgrimage,
- That you to-day promis'd to tell me of?
- BASSANIO. 'Tis not unknown to you, Antonio,
- How much I have disabled mine estate
- By something showing a more swelling port
- Than my faint means would grant continuance;
- Nor do I now make moan to be abridg'd
- From such a noble rate; but my chief care
- Is to come fairly off from the great debts
- Wherein my time, something too prodigal,
- Hath left me gag'd. To you, Antonio,
- I owe the most, in money and in love;
- And from your love I have a warranty
- To unburden all my plots and purposes
- How to get clear of all the debts I owe.
- ANTONIO. I pray you, good Bassanio, let me know it;
- And if it stand, as you yourself still do,
- Within the eye of honour, be assur'd
- My purse, my person, my extremest means,
- Lie all unlock'd to your occasions.
- BASSANIO. In my school-days, when I had lost one shaft,
- I shot his fellow of the self-same flight
- The self-same way, with more advised watch,
- To find the other forth; and by adventuring both
- I oft found both. I urge this childhood proof,
- Because what follows is pure innocence.
- I owe you much; and, like a wilful youth,
- That which I owe is lost; but if you please
- To shoot another arrow that self way
- Which you did shoot the first, I do not doubt,
- As I will watch the aim, or to find both,
- Or bring your latter hazard back again
- And thankfully rest debtor for the first.
- ANTONIO. You know me well, and herein spend but time
- To wind about my love with circumstance;
- And out of doubt you do me now more wrong
- In making question of my uttermost
- Than if you had made waste of all I have.
- Then do but say to me what I should do
- That in your knowledge may by me be done,
- And I am prest unto it; therefore, speak.
- BASSANIO. In Belmont is a lady richly left,
- And she is fair and, fairer than that word,
- Of wondrous virtues. Sometimes from her eyes
- I did receive fair speechless messages.
- Her name is Portia- nothing undervalu'd
- To Cato's daughter, Brutus' Portia.
- Nor is the wide world ignorant of her worth;
- For the four winds blow in from every coast
- Renowned suitors, and her sunny locks
- Hang on her temples like a golden fleece,
- Which makes her seat of Belmont Colchos' strond,
- And many Jasons come in quest of her.
- O my Antonio, had I but the means
- To hold a rival place with one of them,
- I have a mind presages me such thrift
- That I should questionless be fortunate.
- ANTONIO. Thou know'st that all my fortunes are at sea;
- Neither have I money nor commodity
- To raise a present sum; therefore go forth,
- Try what my credit can in Venice do;
- That shall be rack'd, even to the uttermost,
- To furnish thee to Belmont to fair Portia.
- Go presently inquire, and so will I,
- Where money is; and I no question make
- To have it of my trust or for my sake. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-Belmont. PORTIA'S house
-
-Enter PORTIA with her waiting-woman, NERISSA
-
- PORTIA. By my troth, Nerissa, my little body is aweary of this
- great world.
- NERISSA. You would be, sweet madam, if your miseries were in the
- same abundance as your good fortunes are; and yet, for aught I
- see, they are as sick that surfeit with too much as they that
- starve with nothing. It is no mean happiness, therefore, to be
- seated in the mean: superfluity come sooner by white hairs, but
- competency lives longer.
- PORTIA. Good sentences, and well pronounc'd.
- NERISSA. They would be better, if well followed.
- PORTIA. If to do were as easy as to know what were good to do,
- chapels had been churches, and poor men's cottages princes'
- palaces. It is a good divine that follows his own instructions; I
- can easier teach twenty what were good to be done than to be one
- of the twenty to follow mine own teaching. The brain may devise
- laws for the blood, but a hot temper leaps o'er a cold decree;
- such a hare is madness the youth, to skip o'er the meshes of good
- counsel the cripple. But this reasoning is not in the fashion to
- choose me a husband. O me, the word 'choose'! I may neither
- choose who I would nor refuse who I dislike; so is the will of a
- living daughter curb'd by the will of a dead father. Is it not
- hard, Nerissa, that I cannot choose one, nor refuse none?
- NERISSA. Your father was ever virtuous, and holy men at their death
- have good inspirations; therefore the lott'ry that he hath
- devised in these three chests, of gold, silver, and lead- whereof
- who chooses his meaning chooses you- will no doubt never be
- chosen by any rightly but one who you shall rightly love. But
- what warmth is there in your affection towards any of these
- princely suitors that are already come?
- PORTIA. I pray thee over-name them; and as thou namest them, I will
- describe them; and according to my description, level at my
- affection.
- NERISSA. First, there is the Neapolitan prince.
- PORTIA. Ay, that's a colt indeed, for he doth nothing but talk of
- his horse; and he makes it a great appropriation to his own good
- parts that he can shoe him himself; I am much afear'd my lady his
- mother play'd false with a smith.
- NERISSA. Then is there the County Palatine.
- PORTIA. He doth nothing but frown, as who should say 'An you will
- not have me, choose.' He hears merry tales and smiles not. I fear
- he will prove the weeping philosopher when he grows old, being so
- full of unmannerly sadness in his youth. I had rather be married
- to a death's-head with a bone in his mouth than to either of
- these. God defend me from these two!
- NERISSA. How say you by the French lord, Monsieur Le Bon?
- PORTIA. God made him, and therefore let him pass for a man. In
- truth, I know it is a sin to be a mocker, but he- why, he hath a
- horse better than the Neapolitan's, a better bad habit of
- frowning than the Count Palatine; he is every man in no man. If a
- throstle sing he falls straight a-cap'ring; he will fence with
- his own shadow; if I should marry him, I should marry twenty
- husbands. If he would despise me, I would forgive him; for if he
- love me to madness, I shall never requite him.
- NERISSA. What say you then to Falconbridge, the young baron of
- England?
- PORTIA. You know I say nothing to him, for he understands not me,
- nor I him: he hath neither Latin, French, nor Italian, and you
- will come into the court and swear that I have a poor pennyworth
- in the English. He is a proper man's picture; but alas, who can
- converse with a dumb-show? How oddly he is suited! I think he
- bought his doublet in Italy, his round hose in France, his bonnet
- in Germany, and his behaviour everywhere.
- NERISSA. What think you of the Scottish lord, his neighbour?
- PORTIA. That he hath a neighbourly charity in him, for he borrowed
- a box of the ear of the Englishman, and swore he would pay him
- again when he was able; I think the Frenchman became his surety,
- and seal'd under for another.
- NERISSA. How like you the young German, the Duke of Saxony's
- nephew?
- PORTIA. Very vilely in the morning when he is sober; and most
- vilely in the afternoon when he is drunk. When he is best, he is
- a little worse than a man, and when he is worst, he is little
- better than a beast. An the worst fall that ever fell, I hope I
- shall make shift to go without him.
- NERISSA. If he should offer to choose, and choose the right casket,
- you should refuse to perform your father's will, if you should
- refuse to accept him.
- PORTIA. Therefore, for fear of the worst, I pray thee set a deep
- glass of Rhenish wine on the contrary casket; for if the devil be
- within and that temptation without, I know he will choose it. I
- will do anything, Nerissa, ere I will be married to a sponge.
- NERISSA. You need not fear, lady, the having any of these lords;
- they have acquainted me with their determinations, which is
- indeed to return to their home, and to trouble you with no more
- suit, unless you may be won by some other sort than your father's
- imposition, depending on the caskets.
- PORTIA. If I live to be as old as Sibylla, I will die as chaste as
- Diana, unless I be obtained by the manner of my father's will. I
- am glad this parcel of wooers are so reasonable; for there is not
- one among them but I dote on his very absence, and I pray God
- grant them a fair departure.
- NERISSA. Do you not remember, lady, in your father's time, a
- Venetian, a scholar and a soldier, that came hither in company of
- the Marquis of Montferrat?
- PORTIA. Yes, yes, it was Bassanio; as I think, so was he call'd.
- NERISSA. True, madam; he, of all the men that ever my foolish eyes
- look'd upon, was the best deserving a fair lady.
- PORTIA. I remember him well, and I remember him worthy of thy
- praise.
-
- Enter a SERVINGMAN
-
- How now! what news?
- SERVINGMAN. The four strangers seek for you, madam, to take their
- leave; and there is a forerunner come from a fifth, the Prince of
- Morocco, who brings word the Prince his master will be here
- to-night.
- PORTIA. If I could bid the fifth welcome with so good heart as I
- can bid the other four farewell, I should be glad of his
- approach; if he have the condition of a saint and the complexion
- of a devil, I had rather he should shrive me than wive me.
- Come, Nerissa. Sirrah, go before.
- Whiles we shut the gate upon one wooer, another knocks at the
- door. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-Venice. A public place
-
-Enter BASSANIO With SHYLOCK the Jew
-
- SHYLOCK. Three thousand ducats- well.
- BASSANIO. Ay, sir, for three months.
- SHYLOCK. For three months- well.
- BASSANIO. For the which, as I told you, Antonio shall be bound.
- SHYLOCK. Antonio shall become bound- well.
- BASSANIO. May you stead me? Will you pleasure me? Shall I know your
- answer?
- SHYLOCK. Three thousand ducats for three months, and Antonio bound.
- BASSANIO. Your answer to that.
- SHYLOCK. Antonio is a good man.
- BASSANIO. Have you heard any imputation to the contrary?
- SHYLOCK. Ho, no, no, no, no; my meaning in saying he is a good man
- is to have you understand me that he is sufficient; yet his means
- are in supposition: he hath an argosy bound to Tripolis, another
- to the Indies; I understand, moreover, upon the Rialto, he hath a
- third at Mexico, a fourth for England- and other ventures he
- hath, squand'red abroad. But ships are but boards, sailors but
- men; there be land-rats and water-rats, water-thieves and
- land-thieves- I mean pirates; and then there is the peril of
- waters, winds, and rocks. The man is, notwithstanding,
- sufficient. Three thousand ducats- I think I may take his bond.
- BASSANIO. Be assur'd you may.
- SHYLOCK. I will be assur'd I may; and, that I may be assured, I
- will bethink me. May I speak with Antonio?
- BASSANIO. If it please you to dine with us.
- SHYLOCK. Yes, to smell pork, to eat of the habitation which your
- prophet, the Nazarite, conjured the devil into! I will buy with
- you, sell with you, talk with you, walk with you, and so
- following; but I will not eat with you, drink with you, nor pray
- with you. What news on the Rialto? Who is he comes here?
-
- Enter ANTONIO
-
- BASSANIO. This is Signior Antonio.
- SHYLOCK. [Aside] How like a fawning publican he looks!
- I hate him for he is a Christian;
- But more for that in low simplicity
- He lends out money gratis, and brings down
- The rate of usance here with us in Venice.
- If I can catch him once upon the hip,
- I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him.
- He hates our sacred nation; and he rails,
- Even there where merchants most do congregate,
- On me, my bargains, and my well-won thrift,
- Which he calls interest. Cursed be my tribe
- If I forgive him!
- BASSANIO. Shylock, do you hear?
- SHYLOCK. I am debating of my present store,
- And, by the near guess of my memory,
- I cannot instantly raise up the gross
- Of full three thousand ducats. What of that?
- Tubal, a wealthy Hebrew of my tribe,
- Will furnish me. But soft! how many months
- Do you desire? [To ANTONIO] Rest you fair, good signior;
- Your worship was the last man in our mouths.
- ANTONIO. Shylock, albeit I neither lend nor borrow
- By taking nor by giving of excess,
- Yet, to supply the ripe wants of my friend,
- I'll break a custom. [To BASSANIO] Is he yet possess'd
- How much ye would?
- SHYLOCK. Ay, ay, three thousand ducats.
- ANTONIO. And for three months.
- SHYLOCK. I had forgot- three months; you told me so.
- Well then, your bond; and, let me see- but hear you,
- Methoughts you said you neither lend nor borrow
- Upon advantage.
- ANTONIO. I do never use it.
- SHYLOCK. When Jacob graz'd his uncle Laban's sheep-
- This Jacob from our holy Abram was,
- As his wise mother wrought in his behalf,
- The third possessor; ay, he was the third-
- ANTONIO. And what of him? Did he take interest?
- SHYLOCK. No, not take interest; not, as you would say,
- Directly int'rest; mark what Jacob did:
- When Laban and himself were compromis'd
- That all the eanlings which were streak'd and pied
- Should fall as Jacob's hire, the ewes, being rank,
- In end of autumn turned to the rams;
- And when the work of generation was
- Between these woolly breeders in the act,
- The skilful shepherd pill'd me certain wands,
- And, in the doing of the deed of kind,
- He stuck them up before the fulsome ewes,
- Who, then conceiving, did in eaning time
- Fall parti-colour'd lambs, and those were Jacob's.
- This was a way to thrive, and he was blest;
- And thrift is blessing, if men steal it not.
- ANTONIO. This was a venture, sir, that Jacob serv'd for;
- A thing not in his power to bring to pass,
- But sway'd and fashion'd by the hand of heaven.
- Was this inserted to make interest good?
- Or is your gold and silver ewes and rams?
- SHYLOCK. I cannot tell; I make it breed as fast.
- But note me, signior.
- ANTONIO. [Aside] Mark you this, Bassanio,
- The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose.
- An evil soul producing holy witness
- Is like a villain with a smiling cheek,
- A goodly apple rotten at the heart.
- O, what a goodly outside falsehood hath!
- SHYLOCK. Three thousand ducats- 'tis a good round sum.
- Three months from twelve; then let me see, the rate-
- ANTONIO. Well, Shylock, shall we be beholding to you?
- SHYLOCK. Signior Antonio, many a time and oft
- In the Rialto you have rated me
- About my moneys and my usances;
- Still have I borne it with a patient shrug,
- For suff'rance is the badge of all our tribe;
- You call me misbeliever, cut-throat dog,
- And spit upon my Jewish gaberdine,
- And all for use of that which is mine own.
- Well then, it now appears you need my help;
- Go to, then; you come to me, and you say
- 'Shylock, we would have moneys.' You say so-
- You that did void your rheum upon my beard
- And foot me as you spurn a stranger cur
- Over your threshold; moneys is your suit.
- What should I say to you? Should I not say
- 'Hath a dog money? Is it possible
- A cur can lend three thousand ducats?' Or
- Shall I bend low and, in a bondman's key,
- With bated breath and whisp'ring humbleness,
- Say this:
- 'Fair sir, you spit on me on Wednesday last,
- You spurn'd me such a day; another time
- You call'd me dog; and for these courtesies
- I'll lend you thus much moneys'?
- ANTONIO. I am as like to call thee so again,
- To spit on thee again, to spurn thee too.
- If thou wilt lend this money, lend it not
- As to thy friends- for when did friendship take
- A breed for barren metal of his friend?-
- But lend it rather to thine enemy,
- Who if he break thou mayst with better face
- Exact the penalty.
- SHYLOCK. Why, look you, how you storm!
- I would be friends with you, and have your love,
- Forget the shames that you have stain'd me with,
- Supply your present wants, and take no doit
- Of usance for my moneys, and you'll not hear me.
- This is kind I offer.
- BASSANIO. This were kindness.
- SHYLOCK. This kindness will I show.
- Go with me to a notary, seal me there
- Your single bond, and, in a merry sport,
- If you repay me not on such a day,
- In such a place, such sum or sums as are
- Express'd in the condition, let the forfeit
- Be nominated for an equal pound
- Of your fair flesh, to be cut off and taken
- In what part of your body pleaseth me.
- ANTONIO. Content, in faith; I'll seal to such a bond,
- And say there is much kindness in the Jew.
- BASSANIO. You shall not seal to such a bond for me;
- I'll rather dwell in my necessity.
- ANTONIO. Why, fear not, man; I will not forfeit it;
- Within these two months- that's a month before
- This bond expires- I do expect return
- Of thrice three times the value of this bond.
- SHYLOCK. O father Abram, what these Christians are,
- Whose own hard dealings teaches them suspect
- The thoughts of others! Pray you, tell me this:
- If he should break his day, what should I gain
- By the exaction of the forfeiture?
- A pound of man's flesh taken from a man
- Is not so estimable, profitable neither,
- As flesh of muttons, beefs, or goats. I say,
- To buy his favour, I extend this friendship;
- If he will take it, so; if not, adieu;
- And, for my love, I pray you wrong me not.
- ANTONIO. Yes, Shylock, I will seal unto this bond.
- SHYLOCK. Then meet me forthwith at the notary's;
- Give him direction for this merry bond,
- And I will go and purse the ducats straight,
- See to my house, left in the fearful guard
- Of an unthrifty knave, and presently
- I'll be with you.
- ANTONIO. Hie thee, gentle Jew. Exit SHYLOCK
- The Hebrew will turn Christian: he grows kind.
- BASSANIO. I like not fair terms and a villain's mind.
- ANTONIO. Come on; in this there can be no dismay;
- My ships come home a month before the day. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT II. SCENE I.
-Belmont. PORTIA'S house
-
-Flourish of cornets. Enter the PRINCE of MOROCCO, a tawny Moor all in white,
-and three or four FOLLOWERS accordingly, with PORTIA, NERISSA, and train
-
- PRINCE OF Morocco. Mislike me not for my complexion,
- The shadowed livery of the burnish'd sun,
- To whom I am a neighbour, and near bred.
- Bring me the fairest creature northward born,
- Where Phoebus' fire scarce thaws the icicles,
- And let us make incision for your love
- To prove whose blood is reddest, his or mine.
- I tell thee, lady, this aspect of mine
- Hath fear'd the valiant; by my love, I swear
- The best-regarded virgins of our clime
- Have lov'd it too. I would not change this hue,
- Except to steal your thoughts, my gentle queen.
- PORTIA. In terms of choice I am not solely led
- By nice direction of a maiden's eyes;
- Besides, the lott'ry of my destiny
- Bars me the right of voluntary choosing.
- But, if my father had not scanted me,
- And hedg'd me by his wit to yield myself
- His wife who wins me by that means I told you,
- Yourself, renowned Prince, then stood as fair
- As any comer I have look'd on yet
- For my affection.
- PRINCE OF MOROCCO. Even for that I thank you.
- Therefore, I pray you, lead me to the caskets
- To try my fortune. By this scimitar,
- That slew the Sophy and a Persian prince,
- That won three fields of Sultan Solyman,
- I would o'erstare the sternest eyes that look,
- Outbrave the heart most daring on the earth,
- Pluck the young sucking cubs from the she-bear,
- Yea, mock the lion when 'a roars for prey,
- To win thee, lady. But, alas the while!
- If Hercules and Lichas play at dice
- Which is the better man, the greater throw
- May turn by fortune from the weaker band.
- So is Alcides beaten by his page;
- And so may I, blind Fortune leading me,
- Miss that which one unworthier may attain,
- And die with grieving.
- PORTIA. You must take your chance,
- And either not attempt to choose at all,
- Or swear before you choose, if you choose wrong,
- Never to speak to lady afterward
- In way of marriage; therefore be advis'd.
- PRINCE OF MOROCCO. Nor will not; come, bring me unto my chance.
- PORTIA. First, forward to the temple. After dinner
- Your hazard shall be made.
- PRINCE OF MOROCCO. Good fortune then,
- To make me blest or cursed'st among men!
- [Cornets, and exeunt]
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-Venice. A street
-
-Enter LAUNCELOT GOBBO
-
- LAUNCELOT. Certainly my conscience will serve me to run from this
- Jew my master. The fiend is at mine elbow and tempts me, saying
- to me 'Gobbo, Launcelot Gobbo, good Launcelot' or 'good Gobbo' or
- 'good Launcelot Gobbo, use your legs, take the start, run away.'
- My conscience says 'No; take heed, honest Launcelot, take heed,
- honest Gobbo' or, as aforesaid, 'honest Launcelot Gobbo, do not
- run; scorn running with thy heels.' Well, the most courageous
- fiend bids me pack. 'Via!' says the fiend; 'away!' says the
- fiend. 'For the heavens, rouse up a brave mind' says the fiend
- 'and run.' Well, my conscience, hanging about the neck of my
- heart, says very wisely to me 'My honest friend Launcelot, being
- an honest man's son' or rather 'an honest woman's son'; for
- indeed my father did something smack, something grow to, he had a
- kind of taste- well, my conscience says 'Launcelot, budge not.'
- 'Budge,' says the fiend. 'Budge not,' says my conscience.
- 'Conscience,' say I, (you counsel well.' 'Fiend,' say I, 'you
- counsel well.' To be rul'd by my conscience, I should stay with
- the Jew my master, who- God bless the mark!- is a kind of devil;
- and, to run away from the Jew, I should be ruled by the fiend,
- who- saving your reverence!- is the devil himself. Certainly the
- Jew is the very devil incarnation; and, in my conscience, my
- conscience is but a kind of hard conscience to offer to counsel
- me to stay with the Jew. The fiend gives the more friendly
- counsel. I will run, fiend; my heels are at your commandment; I
- will run.
-
- Enter OLD GOBBO, with a basket
-
- GOBBO. Master young man, you, I pray you, which is the way to
- master Jew's?
- LAUNCELOT. [Aside] O heavens! This is my true-begotten father,
- who, being more than sand-blind, high-gravel blind, knows me not.
- I will try confusions with him.
- GOBBO. Master young gentleman, I pray you, which is the way to
- master Jew's?
- LAUNCELOT. Turn up on your right hand at the next turning, but, at
- the next turning of all, on your left; marry, at the very next
- turning, turn of no hand, but turn down indirectly to the Jew's
- house.
- GOBBO. Be God's sonties, 'twill be a hard way to hit! Can you tell
- me whether one Launcelot, that dwells with him, dwell with him or
- no?
- LAUNCELOT. Talk you of young Master Launcelot? [Aside] Mark me
- now; now will I raise the waters.- Talk you of young Master
- Launcelot?
- GOBBO. No master, sir, but a poor man's son; his father, though I
- say't, is an honest exceeding poor man, and, God be thanked, well
- to live.
- LAUNCELOT. Well, let his father be what 'a will, we talk of young
- Master Launcelot.
- GOBBO. Your worship's friend, and Launcelot, sir.
- LAUNCELOT. But I pray you, ergo, old man, ergo, I beseech you, talk
- you of young Master Launcelot?
- GOBBO. Of Launcelot, an't please your mastership.
- LAUNCELOT. Ergo, Master Launcelot. Talk not of Master Launcelot,
- father; for the young gentleman, according to Fates and Destinies
- and such odd sayings, the Sisters Three and such branches of
- learning, is indeed deceased; or, as you would say in plain
- terms, gone to heaven.
- GOBBO. Marry, God forbid! The boy was the very staff of my age, my
- very prop.
- LAUNCELOT. Do I look like a cudgel or a hovel-post, a staff or a
- prop? Do you know me, father?
- GOBBO. Alack the day, I know you not, young gentleman; but I pray
- you tell me, is my boy- God rest his soul!- alive or dead?
- LAUNCELOT. Do you not know me, father?
- GOBBO. Alack, sir, I am sand-blind; I know you not.
- LAUNCELOT. Nay, indeed, if you had your eyes, you might fail of the
- knowing me: it is a wise father that knows his own child. Well,
- old man, I will tell you news of your son. Give me your blessing;
- truth will come to light; murder cannot be hid long; a man's son
- may, but in the end truth will out.
- GOBBO. Pray you, sir, stand up; I am sure you are not Launcelot my
- boy.
- LAUNCELOT. Pray you, let's have no more fooling about it, but give
- me your blessing; I am Launcelot, your boy that was, your son
- that is, your child that shall be.
- GOBBO. I cannot think you are my son.
- LAUNCELOT. I know not what I shall think of that; but I am
- Launcelot, the Jew's man, and I am sure Margery your wife is my
- mother.
- GOBBO. Her name is Margery, indeed. I'll be sworn, if thou be
- Launcelot, thou art mine own flesh and blood. Lord worshipp'd
- might he be, what a beard hast thou got! Thou hast got more hair
- on thy chin than Dobbin my fill-horse has on his tail.
- LAUNCELOT. It should seem, then, that Dobbin's tail grows backward;
- I am sure he had more hair of his tail than I have of my face
- when I last saw him.
- GOBBO. Lord, how art thou chang'd! How dost thou and thy master
- agree? I have brought him a present. How 'gree you now?
- LAUNCELOT. Well, well; but, for mine own part, as I have set up my
- rest to run away, so I will not rest till I have run some ground.
- My master's a very Jew. Give him a present! Give him a halter. I
- am famish'd in his service; you may tell every finger I have with
- my ribs. Father, I am glad you are come; give me your present to
- one Master Bassanio, who indeed gives rare new liveries; if I
- serve not him, I will run as far as God has any ground. O rare
- fortune! Here comes the man. To him, father, for I am a Jew, if I
- serve the Jew any longer.
-
- Enter BASSANIO, with LEONARDO, with a FOLLOWER or two
-
- BASSANIO. You may do so; but let it be so hasted that supper be
- ready at the farthest by five of the clock. See these letters
- delivered, put the liveries to making, and desire Gratiano to
- come anon to my lodging. Exit a SERVANT
- LAUNCELOT. To him, father.
- GOBBO. God bless your worship!
- BASSANIO. Gramercy; wouldst thou aught with me?
- GOBBO. Here's my son, sir, a poor boy-
- LAUNCELOT. Not a poor boy, sir, but the rich Jew's man, that would,
- sir, as my father shall specify-
- GOBBO. He hath a great infection, sir, as one would say, to serve-
- LAUNCELOT. Indeed the short and the long is, I serve the Jew, and
- have a desire, as my father shall specify-
- GOBBO. His master and he, saving your worship's reverence, are
- scarce cater-cousins-
- LAUNCELOT. To be brief, the very truth is that the Jew, having done
- me wrong, doth cause me, as my father, being I hope an old man,
- shall frutify unto you-
- GOBBO. I have here a dish of doves that I would bestow upon your
- worship; and my suit is-
- LAUNCELOT. In very brief, the suit is impertinent to myself, as
- your worship shall know by this honest old man; and, though I say
- it, though old man, yet poor man, my father.
- BASSANIO. One speak for both. What would you?
- LAUNCELOT. Serve you, sir.
- GOBBO. That is the very defect of the matter, sir.
- BASSANIO. I know thee well; thou hast obtain'd thy suit.
- Shylock thy master spoke with me this day,
- And hath preferr'd thee, if it be preferment
- To leave a rich Jew's service to become
- The follower of so poor a gentleman.
- LAUNCELOT. The old proverb is very well parted between my master
- Shylock and you, sir: you have the grace of God, sir, and he hath
- enough.
- BASSANIO. Thou speak'st it well. Go, father, with thy son.
- Take leave of thy old master, and inquire
- My lodging out. [To a SERVANT] Give him a livery
- More guarded than his fellows'; see it done.
- LAUNCELOT. Father, in. I cannot get a service, no! I have ne'er a
- tongue in my head! [Looking on his palm] Well; if any man in
- Italy have a fairer table which doth offer to swear upon a book- I
- shall have good fortune. Go to, here's a simple line of life;
- here's a small trifle of wives; alas, fifteen wives is nothing;
- a'leven widows and nine maids is a simple coming-in for one man.
- And then to scape drowning thrice, and to be in peril of my life
- with the edge of a feather-bed-here are simple scapes. Well, if
- Fortune be a woman, she's a good wench for this gear. Father,
- come; I'll take my leave of the Jew in the twinkling.
- Exeunt LAUNCELOT and OLD GOBBO
- BASSANIO. I pray thee, good Leonardo, think on this.
- These things being bought and orderly bestowed,
- Return in haste, for I do feast to-night
- My best esteem'd acquaintance; hie thee, go.
- LEONARDO. My best endeavours shall be done herein.
-
- Enter GRATIANO
-
- GRATIANO. Where's your master?
- LEONARDO. Yonder, sir, he walks. Exit
- GRATIANO. Signior Bassanio!
- BASSANIO. Gratiano!
- GRATIANO. I have suit to you.
- BASSANIO. You have obtain'd it.
- GRATIANO. You must not deny me: I must go with you to Belmont.
- BASSANIO. Why, then you must. But hear thee, Gratiano:
- Thou art too wild, too rude, and bold of voice-
- Parts that become thee happily enough,
- And in such eyes as ours appear not faults;
- But where thou art not known, why there they show
- Something too liberal. Pray thee, take pain
- To allay with some cold drops of modesty
- Thy skipping spirit; lest through thy wild behaviour
- I be misconst'red in the place I go to
- And lose my hopes.
- GRATIANO. Signior Bassanio, hear me:
- If I do not put on a sober habit,
- Talk with respect, and swear but now and then,
- Wear prayer-books in my pocket, look demurely,
- Nay more, while grace is saying hood mine eyes
- Thus with my hat, and sigh, and say amen,
- Use all the observance of civility
- Like one well studied in a sad ostent
- To please his grandam, never trust me more.
- BASSANIO. Well, we shall see your bearing.
- GRATIANO. Nay, but I bar to-night; you shall not gauge me
- By what we do to-night.
- BASSANIO. No, that were pity;
- I would entreat you rather to put on
- Your boldest suit of mirth, for we have friends
- That purpose merriment. But fare you well;
- I have some business.
- GRATIANO. And I must to Lorenzo and the rest;
- But we will visit you at supper-time. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-Venice. SHYLOCK'S house
-
-Enter JESSICA and LAUNCELOT
-
- JESSICA. I am sorry thou wilt leave my father so.
- Our house is hell; and thou, a merry devil,
- Didst rob it of some taste of tediousness.
- But fare thee well; there is a ducat for thee;
- And, Launcelot, soon at supper shalt thou see
- Lorenzo, who is thy new master's guest.
- Give him this letter; do it secretly.
- And so farewell. I would not have my father
- See me in talk with thee.
- LAUNCELOT. Adieu! tears exhibit my tongue. Most beautiful pagan,
- most sweet Jew! If a Christian do not play the knave and get
- thee, I am much deceived. But, adieu! these foolish drops do
- something drown my manly spirit; adieu!
- JESSICA. Farewell, good Launcelot. Exit LAUNCELOT
- Alack, what heinous sin is it in me
- To be asham'd to be my father's child!
- But though I am a daughter to his blood,
- I am not to his manners. O Lorenzo,
- If thou keep promise, I shall end this strife,
- Become a Christian and thy loving wife. Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE IV.
-Venice. A street
-
-Enter GRATIANO, LORENZO, SALERIO, and SOLANIO
-
- LORENZO. Nay, we will slink away in suppertime,
- Disguise us at my lodging, and return
- All in an hour.
- GRATIANO. We have not made good preparation.
- SALERIO. We have not spoke us yet of torch-bearers.
- SOLANIO. 'Tis vile, unless it may be quaintly ordered;
- And better in my mind not undertook.
- LORENZO. 'Tis now but four o'clock; we have two hours
- To furnish us.
-
- Enter LAUNCELOT, With a letter
-
- Friend Launcelot, what's the news?
- LAUNCELOT. An it shall please you to break up this, it shall seem
- to signify.
- LORENZO. I know the hand; in faith, 'tis a fair hand,
- And whiter than the paper it writ on
- Is the fair hand that writ.
- GRATIANO. Love-news, in faith!
- LAUNCELOT. By your leave, sir.
- LORENZO. Whither goest thou?
- LAUNCELOT. Marry, sir, to bid my old master, the Jew, to sup
- to-night with my new master, the Christian.
- LORENZO. Hold, here, take this. Tell gentle Jessica
- I will not fail her; speak it privately.
- Go, gentlemen, Exit LAUNCELOT
- Will you prepare you for this masque to-night?
- I am provided of a torch-bearer.
- SALERIO. Ay, marry, I'll be gone about it straight.
- SOLANIO. And so will I.
- LORENZO. Meet me and Gratiano
- At Gratiano's lodging some hour hence.
- SALERIO. 'Tis good we do so. Exeunt SALERIO and SOLANIO
- GRATIANO. Was not that letter from fair Jessica?
- LORENZO. I must needs tell thee all. She hath directed
- How I shall take her from her father's house;
- What gold and jewels she is furnish'd with;
- What page's suit she hath in readiness.
- If e'er the Jew her father come to heaven,
- It will be for his gentle daughter's sake;
- And never dare misfortune cross her foot,
- Unless she do it under this excuse,
- That she is issue to a faithless Jew.
- Come, go with me, peruse this as thou goest;
- Fair Jessica shall be my torch-bearer. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE V.
-Venice. Before SHYLOCK'S house
-
-Enter SHYLOCK and LAUNCELOT
-
- SHYLOCK. Well, thou shalt see; thy eyes shall be thy judge,
- The difference of old Shylock and Bassanio.-
- What, Jessica!- Thou shalt not gormandize
- As thou hast done with me- What, Jessica!-
- And sleep and snore, and rend apparel out-
- Why, Jessica, I say!
- LAUNCELOT. Why, Jessica!
- SHYLOCK. Who bids thee call? I do not bid thee call.
- LAUNCELOT. Your worship was wont to tell me I could do nothing
- without bidding.
-
- Enter JESSICA
-
- JESSICA. Call you? What is your will?
- SHYLOCK. I am bid forth to supper, Jessica;
- There are my keys. But wherefore should I go?
- I am not bid for love; they flatter me;
- But yet I'll go in hate, to feed upon
- The prodigal Christian. Jessica, my girl,
- Look to my house. I am right loath to go;
- There is some ill a-brewing towards my rest,
- For I did dream of money-bags to-night.
- LAUNCELOT. I beseech you, sir, go; my young master doth expect your
- reproach.
- SHYLOCK. So do I his.
- LAUNCELOT. And they have conspired together; I will not say you
- shall see a masque, but if you do, then it was not for nothing
- that my nose fell a-bleeding on Black Monday last at six o'clock
- i' th' morning, falling out that year on Ash Wednesday was four
- year, in th' afternoon.
- SHYLOCK. What, are there masques? Hear you me, Jessica:
- Lock up my doors, and when you hear the drum,
- And the vile squealing of the wry-neck'd fife,
- Clamber not you up to the casements then,
- Nor thrust your head into the public street
- To gaze on Christian fools with varnish'd faces;
- But stop my house's ears- I mean my casements;
- Let not the sound of shallow fopp'ry enter
- My sober house. By Jacob's staff, I swear
- I have no mind of feasting forth to-night;
- But I will go. Go you before me, sirrah;
- Say I will come.
- LAUNCELOT. I will go before, sir. Mistress, look out at window for
- all this.
- There will come a Christian by
- Will be worth a Jewess' eye. Exit
- SHYLOCK. What says that fool of Hagar's offspring, ha?
- JESSICA. His words were 'Farewell, mistress'; nothing else.
- SHYLOCK. The patch is kind enough, but a huge feeder,
- Snail-slow in profit, and he sleeps by day
- More than the wild-cat; drones hive not with me,
- Therefore I part with him; and part with him
- To one that I would have him help to waste
- His borrowed purse. Well, Jessica, go in;
- Perhaps I will return immediately.
- Do as I bid you, shut doors after you.
- Fast bind, fast find-
- A proverb never stale in thrifty mind. Exit
- JESSICA. Farewell; and if my fortune be not crost,
- I have a father, you a daughter, lost. Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE VI.
-Venice. Before SHYLOCK'S house
-
-Enter the maskers, GRATIANO and SALERIO
-
- GRATIANO. This is the pent-house under which Lorenzo
- Desired us to make stand.
- SALERIO. His hour is almost past.
- GRATIANO. And it is marvel he out-dwells his hour,
- For lovers ever run before the clock.
- SALERIO. O, ten times faster Venus' pigeons fly
- To seal love's bonds new made than they are wont
- To keep obliged faith unforfeited!
- GRATIANO. That ever holds: who riseth from a feast
- With that keen appetite that he sits down?
- Where is the horse that doth untread again
- His tedious measures with the unbated fire
- That he did pace them first? All things that are
- Are with more spirit chased than enjoyed.
- How like a younker or a prodigal
- The scarfed bark puts from her native bay,
- Hugg'd and embraced by the strumpet wind;
- How like the prodigal doth she return,
- With over-weather'd ribs and ragged sails,
- Lean, rent, and beggar'd by the strumpet wind!
-
- Enter LORENZO
-
- SALERIO. Here comes Lorenzo; more of this hereafter.
- LORENZO. Sweet friends, your patience for my long abode!
- Not I, but my affairs, have made you wait.
- When you shall please to play the thieves for wives,
- I'll watch as long for you then. Approach;
- Here dwells my father Jew. Ho! who's within?
-
- Enter JESSICA, above, in boy's clothes
-
- JESSICA. Who are you? Tell me, for more certainty,
- Albeit I'll swear that I do know your tongue.
- LORENZO. Lorenzo, and thy love.
- JESSICA. Lorenzo, certain; and my love indeed;
- For who love I so much? And now who knows
- But you, Lorenzo, whether I am yours?
- LORENZO. Heaven and thy thoughts are witness that thou art.
- JESSICA. Here, catch this casket; it is worth the pains.
- I am glad 'tis night, you do not look on me,
- For I am much asham'd of my exchange;
- But love is blind, and lovers cannot see
- The pretty follies that themselves commit,
- For, if they could, Cupid himself would blush
- To see me thus transformed to a boy.
- LORENZO. Descend, for you must be my torch-bearer.
- JESSICA. What! must I hold a candle to my shames?
- They in themselves, good sooth, are too too light.
- Why, 'tis an office of discovery, love,
- And I should be obscur'd.
- LORENZO. So are you, sweet,
- Even in the lovely garnish of a boy.
- But come at once,
- For the close night doth play the runaway,
- And we are stay'd for at Bassanio's feast.
- JESSICA. I will make fast the doors, and gild myself
- With some moe ducats, and be with you straight.
- Exit above
-
- GRATIANO. Now, by my hood, a gentle, and no Jew.
- LORENZO. Beshrew me, but I love her heartily,
- For she is wise, if I can judge of her,
- And fair she is, if that mine eyes be true,
- And true she is, as she hath prov'd herself;
- And therefore, like herself, wise, fair, and true,
- Shall she be placed in my constant soul.
-
- Enter JESSICA, below
-
- What, art thou come? On, gentlemen, away;
- Our masquing mates by this time for us stay.
- Exit with JESSICA and SALERIO
-
- Enter ANTONIO
-
- ANTONIO. Who's there?
- GRATIANO. Signior Antonio?
- ANTONIO. Fie, fie, Gratiano, where are all the rest?
- 'Tis nine o'clock; our friends all stay for you;
- No masque to-night; the wind is come about;
- Bassanio presently will go aboard;
- I have sent twenty out to seek for you.
- GRATIANO. I am glad on't; I desire no more delight
- Than to be under sail and gone to-night. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE VII.
-Belmont. PORTIA's house
-
-Flourish of cornets. Enter PORTIA, with the PRINCE OF MOROCCO,
-and their trains
-
- PORTIA. Go draw aside the curtains and discover
- The several caskets to this noble Prince.
- Now make your choice.
- PRINCE OF MOROCCO. The first, of gold, who this inscription bears:
- 'Who chooseth me shall gain what many men desire.'
- The second, silver, which this promise carries:
- 'Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves.'
- This third, dull lead, with warning all as blunt:
- 'Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he hath.'
- How shall I know if I do choose the right?
- PORTIA. The one of them contains my picture, Prince;
- If you choose that, then I am yours withal.
- PRINCE OF MOROCCO. Some god direct my judgment! Let me see;
- I will survey th' inscriptions back again.
- What says this leaden casket?
- 'Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he hath.'
- Must give- for what? For lead? Hazard for lead!
- This casket threatens; men that hazard all
- Do it in hope of fair advantages.
- A golden mind stoops not to shows of dross;
- I'll then nor give nor hazard aught for lead.
- What says the silver with her virgin hue?
- 'Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves.'
- As much as he deserves! Pause there, Morocco,
- And weigh thy value with an even hand.
- If thou beest rated by thy estimation,
- Thou dost deserve enough, and yet enough
- May not extend so far as to the lady;
- And yet to be afeard of my deserving
- Were but a weak disabling of myself.
- As much as I deserve? Why, that's the lady!
- I do in birth deserve her, and in fortunes,
- In graces, and in qualities of breeding;
- But more than these, in love I do deserve.
- What if I stray'd no farther, but chose here?
- Let's see once more this saying grav'd in gold:
- 'Who chooseth me shall gain what many men desire.'
- Why, that's the lady! All the world desires her;
- From the four corners of the earth they come
- To kiss this shrine, this mortal-breathing saint.
- The Hyrcanian deserts and the vasty wilds
- Of wide Arabia are as throughfares now
- For princes to come view fair Portia.
- The watery kingdom, whose ambitious head
- Spits in the face of heaven, is no bar
- To stop the foreign spirits, but they come
- As o'er a brook to see fair Portia.
- One of these three contains her heavenly picture.
- Is't like that lead contains her? 'Twere damnation
- To think so base a thought; it were too gross
- To rib her cerecloth in the obscure grave.
- Or shall I think in silver she's immur'd,
- Being ten times undervalued to tried gold?
- O sinful thought! Never so rich a gem
- Was set in worse than gold. They have in England
- A coin that bears the figure of an angel
- Stamp'd in gold; but that's insculp'd upon.
- But here an angel in a golden bed
- Lies all within. Deliver me the key;
- Here do I choose, and thrive I as I may!
- PORTIA. There, take it, Prince, and if my form lie there,
- Then I am yours. [He opens the golden casket]
- PRINCE OF MOROCCO. O hell! what have we here?
- A carrion Death, within whose empty eye
- There is a written scroll! I'll read the writing.
- 'All that glisters is not gold,
- Often have you heard that told;
- Many a man his life hath sold
- But my outside to behold.
- Gilded tombs do worms infold.
- Had you been as wise as bold,
- Young in limbs, in judgment old,
- Your answer had not been inscroll'd.
- Fare you well, your suit is cold.'
- Cold indeed, and labour lost,
- Then farewell, heat, and welcome, frost.
- Portia, adieu! I have too griev'd a heart
- To take a tedious leave; thus losers part.
- Exit with his train. Flourish of cornets
- PORTIA. A gentle riddance. Draw the curtains, go.
- Let all of his complexion choose me so. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE VIII.
-Venice. A street
-
-Enter SALERIO and SOLANIO
-
- SALERIO. Why, man, I saw Bassanio under sail;
- With him is Gratiano gone along;
- And in their ship I am sure Lorenzo is not.
- SOLANIO. The villain Jew with outcries rais'd the Duke,
- Who went with him to search Bassanio's ship.
- SALERIO. He came too late, the ship was under sail;
- But there the Duke was given to understand
- That in a gondola were seen together
- Lorenzo and his amorous Jessica;
- Besides, Antonio certified the Duke
- They were not with Bassanio in his ship.
- SOLANIO. I never heard a passion so confus'd,
- So strange, outrageous, and so variable,
- As the dog Jew did utter in the streets.
- 'My daughter! O my ducats! O my daughter!
- Fled with a Christian! O my Christian ducats!
- Justice! the law! My ducats and my daughter!
- A sealed bag, two sealed bags of ducats,
- Of double ducats, stol'n from me by my daughter!
- And jewels- two stones, two rich and precious stones,
- Stol'n by my daughter! Justice! Find the girl;
- She hath the stones upon her and the ducats.'
- SALERIO. Why, all the boys in Venice follow him,
- Crying, his stones, his daughter, and his ducats.
- SOLANIO. Let good Antonio look he keep his day,
- Or he shall pay for this.
- SALERIO. Marry, well rememb'red;
- I reason'd with a Frenchman yesterday,
- Who told me, in the narrow seas that part
- The French and English, there miscarried
- A vessel of our country richly fraught.
- I thought upon Antonio when he told me,
- And wish'd in silence that it were not his.
- SOLANIO. You were best to tell Antonio what you hear;
- Yet do not suddenly, for it may grieve him.
- SALERIO. A kinder gentleman treads not the earth.
- I saw Bassanio and Antonio part.
- Bassanio told him he would make some speed
- Of his return. He answered 'Do not so;
- Slubber not business for my sake, Bassanio,
- But stay the very riping of the time;
- And for the Jew's bond which he hath of me,
- Let it not enter in your mind of love;
- Be merry, and employ your chiefest thoughts
- To courtship, and such fair ostents of love
- As shall conveniently become you there.'
- And even there, his eye being big with tears,
- Turning his face, he put his hand behind him,
- And with affection wondrous sensible
- He wrung Bassanio's hand; and so they parted.
- SOLANIO. I think he only loves the world for him.
- I pray thee, let us go and find him out,
- And quicken his embraced heaviness
- With some delight or other.
- SALERIO. Do we so. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE IX.
-Belmont. PORTIA'S house
-
-Enter NERISSA, and a SERVITOR
-
- NERISSA. Quick, quick, I pray thee, draw the curtain straight;
- The Prince of Arragon hath ta'en his oath,
- And comes to his election presently.
-
- Flourish of cornets. Enter the PRINCE OF ARRAGON,
- PORTIA, and their trains
-
- PORTIA. Behold, there stand the caskets, noble Prince.
- If you choose that wherein I am contain'd,
- Straight shall our nuptial rites be solemniz'd;
- But if you fail, without more speech, my lord,
- You must be gone from hence immediately.
- ARRAGON. I am enjoin'd by oath to observe three things:
- First, never to unfold to any one
- Which casket 'twas I chose; next, if I fail
- Of the right casket, never in my life
- To woo a maid in way of marriage;
- Lastly,
- If I do fail in fortune of my choice,
- Immediately to leave you and be gone.
- PORTIA. To these injunctions every one doth swear
- That comes to hazard for my worthless self.
- ARRAGON. And so have I address'd me. Fortune now
- To my heart's hope! Gold, silver, and base lead.
- 'Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he hath.'
- You shall look fairer ere I give or hazard.
- What says the golden chest? Ha! let me see:
- 'Who chooseth me shall gain what many men desire.'
- What many men desire- that 'many' may be meant
- By the fool multitude, that choose by show,
- Not learning more than the fond eye doth teach;
- Which pries not to th' interior, but, like the martlet,
- Builds in the weather on the outward wall,
- Even in the force and road of casualty.
- I will not choose what many men desire,
- Because I will not jump with common spirits
- And rank me with the barbarous multitudes.
- Why, then to thee, thou silver treasure-house!
- Tell me once more what title thou dost bear.
- 'Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves.'
- And well said too; for who shall go about
- To cozen fortune, and be honourable
- Without the stamp of merit? Let none presume
- To wear an undeserved dignity.
- O that estates, degrees, and offices,
- Were not deriv'd corruptly, and that clear honour
- Were purchas'd by the merit of the wearer!
- How many then should cover that stand bare!
- How many be commanded that command!
- How much low peasantry would then be gleaned
- From the true seed of honour! and how much honour
- Pick'd from the chaff and ruin of the times,
- To be new varnish'd! Well, but to my choice.
- 'Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves.'
- I will assume desert. Give me a key for this,
- And instantly unlock my fortunes here.
- [He opens the silver casket]
- PORTIA. [Aside] Too long a pause for that which you find there.
- ARRAGON. What's here? The portrait of a blinking idiot
- Presenting me a schedule! I will read it.
- How much unlike art thou to Portia!
- How much unlike my hopes and my deservings!
- 'Who chooseth me shall have as much as he deserves.'
- Did I deserve no more than a fool's head?
- Is that my prize? Are my deserts no better?
- PORTIA. To offend and judge are distinct offices
- And of opposed natures.
- ARRAGON. What is here? [Reads]
-
- 'The fire seven times tried this;
- Seven times tried that judgment is
- That did never choose amiss.
- Some there be that shadows kiss,
- Such have but a shadow's bliss.
- There be fools alive iwis
- Silver'd o'er, and so was this.
- Take what wife you will to bed,
- I will ever be your head.
- So be gone; you are sped.'
-
- Still more fool I shall appear
- By the time I linger here.
- With one fool's head I came to woo,
- But I go away with two.
- Sweet, adieu! I'll keep my oath,
- Patiently to bear my wroth. Exit with his train
-
- PORTIA. Thus hath the candle sing'd the moth.
- O, these deliberate fools! When they do choose,
- They have the wisdom by their wit to lose.
- NERISSA. The ancient saying is no heresy:
- Hanging and wiving goes by destiny.
- PORTIA. Come, draw the curtain, Nerissa.
-
- Enter a SERVANT
-
- SERVANT. Where is my lady?
- PORTIA. Here; what would my lord?
- SERVANT. Madam, there is alighted at your gate
- A young Venetian, one that comes before
- To signify th' approaching of his lord,
- From whom he bringeth sensible regreets;
- To wit, besides commends and courteous breath,
- Gifts of rich value. Yet I have not seen
- So likely an ambassador of love.
- A day in April never came so sweet
- To show how costly summer was at hand
- As this fore-spurrer comes before his lord.
- PORTIA. No more, I pray thee; I am half afeard
- Thou wilt say anon he is some kin to thee,
- Thou spend'st such high-day wit in praising him.
- Come, come, Nerissa, for I long to see
- Quick Cupid's post that comes so mannerly.
- NERISSA. Bassanio, Lord Love, if thy will it be! Exeunt
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT III. SCENE I.
-Venice. A street
-
-Enter SOLANIO and SALERIO
-
- SOLANIO. Now, what news on the Rialto?
- SALERIO. Why, yet it lives there uncheck'd that Antonio hath a ship
- of rich lading wreck'd on the narrow seas; the Goodwins I think
- they call the place, a very dangerous flat and fatal, where the
- carcases of many a tall ship lie buried, as they say, if my
- gossip Report be an honest woman of her word.
- SOLANIO. I would she were as lying a gossip in that as ever knapp'd
- ginger or made her neighbours believe she wept for the death of a
- third husband. But it is true, without any slips of prolixity or
- crossing the plain highway of talk, that the good Antonio, the
- honest Antonio- O that I had a title good enough to keep his name
- company!-
- SALERIO. Come, the full stop.
- SOLANIO. Ha! What sayest thou? Why, the end is, he hath lost a
- ship.
- SALERIO. I would it might prove the end of his losses.
- SOLANIO. Let me say amen betimes, lest the devil cross my prayer,
- for here he comes in the likeness of a Jew.
-
- Enter SHYLOCK
-
- How now, Shylock? What news among the merchants?
- SHYLOCK. You knew, none so well, none so well as you, of my
- daughter's flight.
- SALERIO. That's certain; I, for my part, knew the tailor that made
- the wings she flew withal.
- SOLANIO. And Shylock, for his own part, knew the bird was flidge;
- and then it is the complexion of them all to leave the dam.
- SHYLOCK. She is damn'd for it.
- SALERIO. That's certain, if the devil may be her judge.
- SHYLOCK. My own flesh and blood to rebel!
- SOLANIO. Out upon it, old carrion! Rebels it at these years?
- SHYLOCK. I say my daughter is my flesh and my blood.
- SALERIO. There is more difference between thy flesh and hers than
- between jet and ivory; more between your bloods than there is
- between red wine and Rhenish. But tell us, do you hear whether
- Antonio have had any loss at sea or no?
- SHYLOCK. There I have another bad match: a bankrupt, a prodigal,
- who dare scarce show his head on the Rialto; a beggar, that was
- us'd to come so smug upon the mart. Let him look to his bond. He
- was wont to call me usurer; let him look to his bond. He was wont
- to lend money for a Christian courtesy; let him look to his bond.
- SALERIO. Why, I am sure, if he forfeit, thou wilt not take his
- flesh. What's that good for?
- SHYLOCK. To bait fish withal. If it will feed nothing else, it will
- feed my revenge. He hath disgrac'd me and hind'red me half a
- million; laugh'd at my losses, mock'd at my gains, scorned my
- nation, thwarted my bargains, cooled my friends, heated mine
- enemies. And what's his reason? I am a Jew. Hath not a Jew eyes?
- Hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections,
- passions, fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons,
- subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed
- and cooled by the same winter and summer, as a Christian is? If
- you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh?
- If you poison us, do we not die? And if you wrong us, shall we
- not revenge? If we are like you in the rest, we will resemble you
- in that. If a Jew wrong a Christian, what is his humility?
- Revenge. If a Christian wrong a Jew, what should his sufferance
- be by Christian example? Why, revenge. The villainy you teach me
- I will execute; and itshall go hard but I will better the
- instruction.
-
- Enter a MAN from ANTONIO
-
- MAN. Gentlemen, my master Antonio is at his house, and desires to
- speak with you both.
- SALERIO. We have been up and down to seek him.
-
- Enter TUBAL
-
- SOLANIO. Here comes another of the tribe; a third cannot be
- match'd, unless the devil himself turn Jew.
- Exeunt SOLANIO, SALERIO, and MAN
- SHYLOCK. How now, Tubal, what news from Genoa? Hast thou found my
- daughter?
- TUBAL. I often came where I did hear of her, but cannot find her.
- SHYLOCK. Why there, there, there, there! A diamond gone, cost me
- two thousand ducats in Frankfort! The curse never fell upon our
- nation till now; I never felt it till now. Two thousand ducats in
- that, and other precious, precious jewels. I would my daughter
- were dead at my foot, and the jewels in her ear; would she were
- hears'd at my foot, and the ducats in her coffin! No news of
- them? Why, so- and I know not what's spent in the search. Why,
- thou- loss upon loss! The thief gone with so much, and so much to
- find the thief; and no satisfaction, no revenge; nor no ill luck
- stirring but what lights o' my shoulders; no sighs but o' my
- breathing; no tears but o' my shedding!
- TUBAL. Yes, other men have ill luck too: Antonio, as I heard in
- Genoa-
- SHYLOCK. What, what, what? Ill luck, ill luck?
- TUBAL. Hath an argosy cast away coming from Tripolis.
- SHYLOCK. I thank God, I thank God. Is it true, is it true?
- TUBAL. I spoke with some of the sailors that escaped the wreck.
- SHYLOCK. I thank thee, good Tubal. Good news, good news- ha, ha!-
- heard in Genoa.
- TUBAL. Your daughter spent in Genoa, as I heard, one night,
- fourscore ducats.
- SHYLOCK. Thou stick'st a dagger in me- I shall never see my gold
- again. Fourscore ducats at a sitting! Fourscore ducats!
- TUBAL. There came divers of Antonio's creditors in my company to
- Venice that swear he cannot choose but break.
- SHYLOCK. I am very glad of it; I'll plague him, I'll torture him; I
- am glad of it.
- TUBAL. One of them showed me a ring that he had of your daughter
- for a monkey.
- SHYLOCK. Out upon her! Thou torturest me, Tubal. It was my
- turquoise; I had it of Leah when I was a bachelor; I would not
- have given it for a wilderness of monkeys.
- TUBAL. But Antonio is certainly undone.
- SHYLOCK. Nay, that's true; that's very true. Go, Tubal, fee me an
- officer; bespeak him a fortnight before. I will have the heart of
- him, if he forfeit; for, were he out of Venice, I can make what
- merchandise I will. Go, Tubal, and meet me at our synagogue; go,
- good Tubal; at our synagogue, Tubal. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-Belmont. PORTIA'S house
-
-Enter BASSANIO, PORTIA, GRATIANO, NERISSA, and all their trains
-
- PORTIA. I pray you tarry; pause a day or two
- Before you hazard; for, in choosing wrong,
- I lose your company; therefore forbear a while.
- There's something tells me- but it is not love-
- I would not lose you; and you know yourself
- Hate counsels not in such a quality.
- But lest you should not understand me well-
- And yet a maiden hath no tongue but thought-
- I would detain you here some month or two
- Before you venture for me. I could teach you
- How to choose right, but then I am forsworn;
- So will I never be; so may you miss me;
- But if you do, you'll make me wish a sin,
- That I had been forsworn. Beshrew your eyes!
- They have o'erlook'd me and divided me;
- One half of me is yours, the other half yours-
- Mine own, I would say; but if mine, then yours,
- And so all yours. O! these naughty times
- Puts bars between the owners and their rights;
- And so, though yours, not yours. Prove it so,
- Let fortune go to hell for it, not I.
- I speak too long, but 'tis to peize the time,
- To eke it, and to draw it out in length,
- To stay you from election.
- BASSANIO. Let me choose;
- For as I am, I live upon the rack.
- PORTIA. Upon the rack, Bassanio? Then confess
- What treason there is mingled with your love.
- BASSANIO. None but that ugly treason of mistrust
- Which makes me fear th' enjoying of my love;
- There may as well be amity and life
- 'Tween snow and fire as treason and my love.
- PORTIA. Ay, but I fear you speak upon the rack,
- Where men enforced do speak anything.
- BASSANIO. Promise me life, and I'll confess the truth.
- PORTIA. Well then, confess and live.
- BASSANIO. 'Confess' and 'love'
- Had been the very sum of my confession.
- O happy torment, when my torturer
- Doth teach me answers for deliverance!
- But let me to my fortune and the caskets.
- PORTIA. Away, then; I am lock'd in one of them.
- If you do love me, you will find me out.
- Nerissa and the rest, stand all aloof;
- Let music sound while he doth make his choice;
- Then, if he lose, he makes a swan-like end,
- Fading in music. That the comparison
- May stand more proper, my eye shall be the stream
- And wat'ry death-bed for him. He may win;
- And what is music then? Then music is
- Even as the flourish when true subjects bow
- To a new-crowned monarch; such it is
- As are those dulcet sounds in break of day
- That creep into the dreaming bridegroom's ear
- And summon him to marriage. Now he goes,
- With no less presence, but with much more love,
- Than young Alcides when he did redeem
- The virgin tribute paid by howling Troy
- To the sea-monster. I stand for sacrifice;
- The rest aloof are the Dardanian wives,
- With bleared visages come forth to view
- The issue of th' exploit. Go, Hercules!
- Live thou, I live. With much much more dismay
- I view the fight than thou that mak'st the fray.
-
- A SONG
-
- the whilst BASSANIO comments on the caskets to himself
-
- Tell me where is fancy bred,
- Or in the heart or in the head,
- How begot, how nourished?
- Reply, reply.
- It is engend'red in the eyes,
- With gazing fed; and fancy dies
- In the cradle where it lies.
- Let us all ring fancy's knell:
- I'll begin it- Ding, dong, bell.
- ALL. Ding, dong, bell.
-
- BASSANIO. So may the outward shows be least themselves;
- The world is still deceiv'd with ornament.
- In law, what plea so tainted and corrupt
- But, being season'd with a gracious voice,
- Obscures the show of evil? In religion,
- What damned error but some sober brow
- Will bless it, and approve it with a text,
- Hiding the grossness with fair ornament?
- There is no vice so simple but assumes
- Some mark of virtue on his outward parts.
- How many cowards, whose hearts are all as false
- As stairs of sand, wear yet upon their chins
- The beards of Hercules and frowning Mars;
- Who, inward search'd, have livers white as milk!
- And these assume but valour's excrement
- To render them redoubted. Look on beauty
- And you shall see 'tis purchas'd by the weight,
- Which therein works a miracle in nature,
- Making them lightest that wear most of it;
- So are those crisped snaky golden locks
- Which make such wanton gambols with the wind
- Upon supposed fairness often known
- To be the dowry of a second head-
- The skull that bred them in the sepulchre.
- Thus ornament is but the guiled shore
- To a most dangerous sea; the beauteous scarf
- Veiling an Indian beauty; in a word,
- The seeming truth which cunning times put on
- To entrap the wisest. Therefore, thou gaudy gold,
- Hard food for Midas, I will none of thee;
- Nor none of thee, thou pale and common drudge
- 'Tween man and man; but thou, thou meagre lead,
- Which rather threaten'st than dost promise aught,
- Thy plainness moves me more than eloquence,
- And here choose I. Joy be the consequence!
- PORTIA. [Aside] How all the other passions fleet to air,
- As doubtful thoughts, and rash-embrac'd despair,
- And shudd'ring fear, and green-ey'd jealousy!
- O love, be moderate, allay thy ecstasy,
- In measure rain thy joy, scant this excess!
- I feel too much thy blessing. Make it less,
- For fear I surfeit.
- BASSANIO. [Opening the leaden casket] What find I here?
- Fair Portia's counterfeit! What demi-god
- Hath come so near creation? Move these eyes?
- Or whether riding on the balls of mine
- Seem they in motion? Here are sever'd lips,
- Parted with sugar breath; so sweet a bar
- Should sunder such sweet friends. Here in her hairs
- The painter plays the spider, and hath woven
- A golden mesh t' entrap the hearts of men
- Faster than gnats in cobwebs. But her eyes-
- How could he see to do them? Having made one,
- Methinks it should have power to steal both his,
- And leave itself unfurnish'd. Yet look how far
- The substance of my praise doth wrong this shadow
- In underprizing it, so far this shadow
- Doth limp behind the substance. Here's the scroll,
- The continent and summary of my fortune.
- 'You that choose not by the view,
- Chance as fair and choose as true!
- Since this fortune falls to you,
- Be content and seek no new.
- If you be well pleas'd with this,
- And hold your fortune for your bliss,
- Turn to where your lady is
- And claim her with a loving kiss.'
- A gentle scroll. Fair lady, by your leave;
- I come by note, to give and to receive.
- Like one of two contending in a prize,
- That thinks he hath done well in people's eyes,
- Hearing applause and universal shout,
- Giddy in spirit, still gazing in a doubt
- Whether those peals of praise be his or no;
- So, thrice-fair lady, stand I even so,
- As doubtful whether what I see be true,
- Until confirm'd, sign'd, ratified by you.
- PORTIA. You see me, Lord Bassanio, where I stand,
- Such as I am. Though for myself alone
- I would not be ambitious in my wish
- To wish myself much better, yet for you
- I would be trebled twenty times myself,
- A thousand times more fair, ten thousand times more rich,
- That only to stand high in your account
- I might in virtues, beauties, livings, friends,
- Exceed account. But the full sum of me
- Is sum of something which, to term in gross,
- Is an unlesson'd girl, unschool'd, unpractis'd;
- Happy in this, she is not yet so old
- But she may learn; happier than this,
- She is not bred so dull but she can learn;
- Happiest of all is that her gentle spirit
- Commits itself to yours to be directed,
- As from her lord, her governor, her king.
- Myself and what is mine to you and yours
- Is now converted. But now I was the lord
- Of this fair mansion, master of my servants,
- Queen o'er myself; and even now, but now,
- This house, these servants, and this same myself,
- Are yours- my lord's. I give them with this ring,
- Which when you part from, lose, or give away,
- Let it presage the ruin of your love,
- And be my vantage to exclaim on you.
- BASSANIO. Madam, you have bereft me of all words;
- Only my blood speaks to you in my veins;
- And there is such confusion in my powers
- As, after some oration fairly spoke
- By a beloved prince, there doth appear
- Among the buzzing pleased multitude,
- Where every something, being blent together,
- Turns to a wild of nothing, save of joy
- Express'd and not express'd. But when this ring
- Parts from this finger, then parts life from hence;
- O, then be bold to say Bassanio's dead!
- NERISSA. My lord and lady, it is now our time
- That have stood by and seen our wishes prosper
- To cry 'Good joy.' Good joy, my lord and lady!
- GRATIANO. My Lord Bassanio, and my gentle lady,
- I wish you all the joy that you can wish,
- For I am sure you can wish none from me;
- And, when your honours mean to solemnize
- The bargain of your faith, I do beseech you
- Even at that time I may be married too.
- BASSANIO. With all my heart, so thou canst get a wife.
- GRATIANO. I thank your lordship, you have got me one.
- My eyes, my lord, can look as swift as yours:
- You saw the mistress, I beheld the maid;
- You lov'd, I lov'd; for intermission
- No more pertains to me, my lord, than you.
- Your fortune stood upon the caskets there,
- And so did mine too, as the matter falls;
- For wooing here until I sweat again,
- And swearing till my very roof was dry
- With oaths of love, at last- if promise last-
- I got a promise of this fair one here
- To have her love, provided that your fortune
- Achiev'd her mistress.
- PORTIA. Is this true, Nerissa?
- NERISSA. Madam, it is, so you stand pleas'd withal.
- BASSANIO. And do you, Gratiano, mean good faith?
- GRATIANO. Yes, faith, my lord.
- BASSANIO. Our feast shall be much honoured in your marriage.
- GRATIANO. We'll play with them: the first boy for a thousand
- ducats.
- NERISSA. What, and stake down?
- GRATIANO. No; we shall ne'er win at that sport, and stake down-
- But who comes here? Lorenzo and his infidel?
- What, and my old Venetian friend, Salerio!
-
- Enter LORENZO, JESSICA, and SALERIO, a messenger
- from Venice
-
- BASSANIO. Lorenzo and Salerio, welcome hither,
- If that the youth of my new int'rest here
- Have power to bid you welcome. By your leave,
- I bid my very friends and countrymen,
- Sweet Portia, welcome.
- PORTIA. So do I, my lord;
- They are entirely welcome.
- LORENZO. I thank your honour. For my part, my lord,
- My purpose was not to have seen you here;
- But meeting with Salerio by the way,
- He did entreat me, past all saying nay,
- To come with him along.
- SALERIO. I did, my lord,
- And I have reason for it. Signior Antonio
- Commends him to you. [Gives BASSANIO a letter]
- BASSANIO. Ere I ope his letter,
- I pray you tell me how my good friend doth.
- SALERIO. Not sick, my lord, unless it be in mind;
- Nor well, unless in mind; his letter there
- Will show you his estate. [BASSANIO opens the letter]
- GRATIANO. Nerissa, cheer yond stranger; bid her welcome.
- Your hand, Salerio. What's the news from Venice?
- How doth that royal merchant, good Antonio?
- I know he will be glad of our success:
- We are the Jasons, we have won the fleece.
- SALERIO. I would you had won the fleece that he hath lost.
- PORTIA. There are some shrewd contents in yond same paper
- That steals the colour from Bassanio's cheek:
- Some dear friend dead, else nothing in the world
- Could turn so much the constitution
- Of any constant man. What, worse and worse!
- With leave, Bassanio: I am half yourself,
- And I must freely have the half of anything
- That this same paper brings you.
- BASSANIO. O sweet Portia,
- Here are a few of the unpleasant'st words
- That ever blotted paper! Gentle lady,
- When I did first impart my love to you,
- I freely told you all the wealth I had
- Ran in my veins- I was a gentleman;
- And then I told you true. And yet, dear lady,
- Rating myself at nothing, you shall see
- How much I was a braggart. When I told you
- My state was nothing, I should then have told you
- That I was worse than nothing; for indeed
- I have engag'd myself to a dear friend,
- Engag'd my friend to his mere enemy,
- To feed my means. Here is a letter, lady,
- The paper as the body of my friend,
- And every word in it a gaping wound
- Issuing life-blood. But is it true, Salerio?
- Hath all his ventures fail'd? What, not one hit?
- From Tripolis, from Mexico, and England,
- From Lisbon, Barbary, and India,
- And not one vessel scape the dreadful touch
- Of merchant-marring rocks?
- SALERIO. Not one, my lord.
- Besides, it should appear that, if he had
- The present money to discharge the Jew,
- He would not take it. Never did I know
- A creature that did bear the shape of man
- So keen and greedy to confound a man.
- He plies the Duke at morning and at night,
- And doth impeach the freedom of the state,
- If they deny him justice. Twenty merchants,
- The Duke himself, and the magnificoes
- Of greatest port, have all persuaded with him;
- But none can drive him from the envious plea
- Of forfeiture, of justice, and his bond.
- JESSICA. When I was with him, I have heard him swear
- To Tubal and to Chus, his countrymen,
- That he would rather have Antonio's flesh
- Than twenty times the value of the sum
- That he did owe him; and I know, my lord,
- If law, authority, and power, deny not,
- It will go hard with poor Antonio.
- PORTIA. Is it your dear friend that is thus in trouble?
- BASSANIO. The dearest friend to me, the kindest man,
- The best condition'd and unwearied spirit
- In doing courtesies; and one in whom
- The ancient Roman honour more appears
- Than any that draws breath in Italy.
- PORTIA. What sum owes he the Jew?
- BASSANIO. For me, three thousand ducats.
- PORTIA. What! no more?
- Pay him six thousand, and deface the bond;
- Double six thousand, and then treble that,
- Before a friend of this description
- Shall lose a hair through Bassanio's fault.
- First go with me to church and call me wife,
- And then away to Venice to your friend;
- For never shall you lie by Portia's side
- With an unquiet soul. You shall have gold
- To pay the petty debt twenty times over.
- When it is paid, bring your true friend along.
- My maid Nerissa and myself meantime
- Will live as maids and widows. Come, away;
- For you shall hence upon your wedding day.
- Bid your friends welcome, show a merry cheer;
- Since you are dear bought, I will love you dear.
- But let me hear the letter of your friend.
- BASSANIO. [Reads] 'Sweet Bassanio, my ships have all miscarried,
- my creditors grow cruel, my estate is very low, my bond to the
- Jew is forfeit; and since, in paying it, it is impossible I
- should live, all debts are clear'd between you and I, if I might
- but see you at my death. Notwithstanding, use your pleasure; if
- your love do not persuade you to come, let not my letter.'
- PORTIA. O love, dispatch all business and be gone!
- BASSANIO. Since I have your good leave to go away,
- I will make haste; but, till I come again,
- No bed shall e'er be guilty of my stay,
- Nor rest be interposer 'twixt us twain. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-Venice. A street
-
-Enter SHYLOCK, SOLANIO, ANTONIO, and GAOLER
-
- SHYLOCK. Gaoler, look to him. Tell not me of mercy-
- This is the fool that lent out money gratis.
- Gaoler, look to him.
- ANTONIO. Hear me yet, good Shylock.
- SHYLOCK. I'll have my bond; speak not against my bond.
- I have sworn an oath that I will have my bond.
- Thou call'dst me dog before thou hadst a cause,
- But, since I am a dog, beware my fangs;
- The Duke shall grant me justice. I do wonder,
- Thou naughty gaoler, that thou art so fond
- To come abroad with him at his request.
- ANTONIO. I pray thee hear me speak.
- SHYLOCK. I'll have my bond. I will not hear thee speak;
- I'll have my bond; and therefore speak no more.
- I'll not be made a soft and dull-ey'd fool,
- To shake the head, relent, and sigh, and yield,
- To Christian intercessors. Follow not;
- I'll have no speaking; I will have my bond. Exit
- SOLANIO. It is the most impenetrable cur
- That ever kept with men.
- ANTONIO. Let him alone;
- I'll follow him no more with bootless prayers.
- He seeks my life; his reason well I know:
- I oft deliver'd from his forfeitures
- Many that have at times made moan to me;
- Therefore he hates me.
- SOLANIO. I am sure the Duke
- Will never grant this forfeiture to hold.
- ANTONIO. The Duke cannot deny the course of law;
- For the commodity that strangers have
- With us in Venice, if it be denied,
- Will much impeach the justice of the state,
- Since that the trade and profit of the city
- Consisteth of all nations. Therefore, go;
- These griefs and losses have so bated me
- That I shall hardly spare a pound of flesh
- To-morrow to my bloody creditor.
- Well, gaoler, on; pray God Bassanio come
- To see me pay his debt, and then I care not. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE IV.
-Belmont. PORTIA'S house
-
-Enter PORTIA, NERISSA, LORENZO, JESSICA, and BALTHASAR
-
- LORENZO. Madam, although I speak it in your presence,
- You have a noble and a true conceit
- Of godlike amity, which appears most strongly
- In bearing thus the absence of your lord.
- But if you knew to whom you show this honour,
- How true a gentleman you send relief,
- How dear a lover of my lord your husband,
- I know you would be prouder of the work
- Than customary bounty can enforce you.
- PORTIA. I never did repent for doing good,
- Nor shall not now; for in companions
- That do converse and waste the time together,
- Whose souls do bear an equal yoke of love,
- There must be needs a like proportion
- Of lineaments, of manners, and of spirit,
- Which makes me think that this Antonio,
- Being the bosom lover of my lord,
- Must needs be like my lord. If it be so,
- How little is the cost I have bestowed
- In purchasing the semblance of my soul
- From out the state of hellish cruelty!
- This comes too near the praising of myself;
- Therefore, no more of it; hear other things.
- Lorenzo, I commit into your hands
- The husbandry and manage of my house
- Until my lord's return; for mine own part,
- I have toward heaven breath'd a secret vow
- To live in prayer and contemplation,
- Only attended by Nerissa here,
- Until her husband and my lord's return.
- There is a monastery two miles off,
- And there we will abide. I do desire you
- Not to deny this imposition,
- The which my love and some necessity
- Now lays upon you.
- LORENZO. Madam, with all my heart
- I shall obey you in an fair commands.
- PORTIA. My people do already know my mind,
- And will acknowledge you and Jessica
- In place of Lord Bassanio and myself.
- So fare you well till we shall meet again.
- LORENZO. Fair thoughts and happy hours attend on you!
- JESSICA. I wish your ladyship all heart's content.
- PORTIA. I thank you for your wish, and am well pleas'd
- To wish it back on you. Fare you well, Jessica.
- Exeunt JESSICA and LORENZO
- Now, Balthasar,
- As I have ever found thee honest-true,
- So let me find thee still. Take this same letter,
- And use thou all th' endeavour of a man
- In speed to Padua; see thou render this
- Into my cousin's hands, Doctor Bellario;
- And look what notes and garments he doth give thee,
- Bring them, I pray thee, with imagin'd speed
- Unto the traject, to the common ferry
- Which trades to Venice. Waste no time in words,
- But get thee gone; I shall be there before thee.
- BALTHASAR. Madam, I go with all convenient speed. Exit
- PORTIA. Come on, Nerissa, I have work in hand
- That you yet know not of; we'll see our husbands
- Before they think of us.
- NERISSA. Shall they see us?
- PORTIA. They shall, Nerissa; but in such a habit
- That they shall think we are accomplished
- With that we lack. I'll hold thee any wager,
- When we are both accoutred like young men,
- I'll prove the prettier fellow of the two,
- And wear my dagger with the braver grace,
- And speak between the change of man and boy
- With a reed voice; and turn two mincing steps
- Into a manly stride; and speak of frays
- Like a fine bragging youth; and tell quaint lies,
- How honourable ladies sought my love,
- Which I denying, they fell sick and died-
- I could not do withal. Then I'll repent,
- And wish for all that, that I had not kill'd them.
- And twenty of these puny lies I'll tell,
- That men shall swear I have discontinued school
- About a twelvemonth. I have within my mind
- A thousand raw tricks of these bragging Jacks,
- Which I will practise.
- NERISSA. Why, shall we turn to men?
- PORTIA. Fie, what a question's that,
- If thou wert near a lewd interpreter!
- But come, I'll tell thee all my whole device
- When I am in my coach, which stays for us
- At the park gate; and therefore haste away,
- For we must measure twenty miles to-day. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE V.
-Belmont. The garden
-
-Enter LAUNCELOT and JESSICA
-
- LAUNCELOT. Yes, truly; for, look you, the sins of the father are to
- be laid upon the children; therefore, I promise you, I fear you.
- I was always plain with you, and so now I speak my agitation of
- the matter; therefore be o' good cheer, for truly I think you are
- damn'd. There is but one hope in it that can do you any good, and
- that is but a kind of bastard hope, neither.
- JESSICA. And what hope is that, I pray thee?
- LAUNCELOT. Marry, you may partly hope that your father got you not-
- that you are not the Jew's daughter.
- JESSICA. That were a kind of bastard hope indeed; so the sins of my
- mother should be visited upon me.
- LAUNCELOT. Truly then I fear you are damn'd both by father and
- mother; thus when I shun Scylla, your father, I fall into
- Charybdis, your mother; well, you are gone both ways.
- JESSICA. I shall be sav'd by my husband; he hath made me a
- Christian.
- LAUNCELOT. Truly, the more to blame he; we were Christians enow
- before, e'en as many as could well live one by another. This
- making of Christians will raise the price of hogs; if we grow all
- to be pork-eaters, we shall not shortly have a rasher on the
- coals for money.
-
- Enter LORENZO
-
- JESSICA. I'll tell my husband, Launcelot, what you say; here he
- comes.
- LORENZO. I shall grow jealous of you shortly, Launcelot, if you
- thus get my wife into corners.
- JESSICA. Nay, you need nor fear us, Lorenzo; Launcelot and I are
- out; he tells me flatly there's no mercy for me in heaven,
- because I am a Jew's daughter; and he says you are no good member
- of the commonwealth, for in converting Jews to Christians you
- raise the price of pork.
- LORENZO. I shall answer that better to the commonwealth than you
- can the getting up of the negro's belly; the Moor is with child
- by you, Launcelot.
- LAUNCELOT. It is much that the Moor should be more than reason; but
- if she be less than an honest woman, she is indeed more than I
- took her for.
- LORENZO. How every fool can play upon the word! I think the best
- grace of wit will shortly turn into silence, and discourse grow
- commendable in none only but parrots. Go in, sirrah; bid them
- prepare for dinner.
- LAUNCELOT. That is done, sir; they have all stomachs.
- LORENZO. Goodly Lord, what a wit-snapper are you! Then bid them
- prepare dinner.
- LAUNCELOT. That is done too, sir, only 'cover' is the word.
- LORENZO. Will you cover, then, sir?
- LAUNCELOT. Not so, sir, neither; I know my duty.
- LORENZO. Yet more quarrelling with occasion! Wilt thou show the
- whole wealth of thy wit in an instant? I pray thee understand a
- plain man in his plain meaning: go to thy fellows, bid them cover
- the table, serve in the meat, and we will come in to dinner.
- LAUNCELOT. For the table, sir, it shall be serv'd in; for the meat,
- sir, it shall be cover'd; for your coming in to dinner, sir, why,
- let it be as humours and conceits shall govern.
- Exit
- LORENZO. O dear discretion, how his words are suited!
- The fool hath planted in his memory
- An army of good words; and I do know
- A many fools that stand in better place,
- Garnish'd like him, that for a tricksy word
- Defy the matter. How cheer'st thou, Jessica?
- And now, good sweet, say thy opinion,
- How dost thou like the Lord Bassanio's wife?
- JESSICA. Past all expressing. It is very meet
- The Lord Bassanio live an upright life,
- For, having such a blessing in his lady,
- He finds the joys of heaven here on earth;
- And if on earth he do not merit it,
- In reason he should never come to heaven.
- Why, if two gods should play some heavenly match,
- And on the wager lay two earthly women,
- And Portia one, there must be something else
- Pawn'd with the other; for the poor rude world
- Hath not her fellow.
- LORENZO. Even such a husband
- Hast thou of me as she is for a wife.
- JESSICA. Nay, but ask my opinion too of that.
- LORENZO. I will anon; first let us go to dinner.
- JESSICA. Nay, let me praise you while I have a stomach.
- LORENZO. No, pray thee, let it serve for table-talk;
- Then howsome'er thou speak'st, 'mong other things
- I shall digest it.
- JESSICA. Well, I'll set you forth. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-ACT IV. SCENE I.
-Venice. The court of justice
-
-Enter the DUKE, the MAGNIFICOES, ANTONIO, BASSANIO, GRATIANO, SALERIO,
-and OTHERS
-
- DUKE OF VENICE. What, is Antonio here?
- ANTONIO. Ready, so please your Grace.
- DUKE OF VENICE. I am sorry for thee; thou art come to answer
- A stony adversary, an inhuman wretch,
- Uncapable of pity, void and empty
- From any dram of mercy.
- ANTONIO. I have heard
- Your Grace hath ta'en great pains to qualify
- His rigorous course; but since he stands obdurate,
- And that no lawful means can carry me
- Out of his envy's reach, I do oppose
- My patience to his fury, and am arm'd
- To suffer with a quietness of spirit
- The very tyranny and rage of his.
- DUKE OF VENICE. Go one, and call the Jew into the court.
- SALERIO. He is ready at the door; he comes, my lord.
-
- Enter SHYLOCK
-
- DUKE OF VENICE. Make room, and let him stand before our face.
- Shylock, the world thinks, and I think so too,
- That thou but leadest this fashion of thy malice
- To the last hour of act; and then, 'tis thought,
- Thou'lt show thy mercy and remorse, more strange
- Than is thy strange apparent cruelty;
- And where thou now exacts the penalty,
- Which is a pound of this poor merchant's flesh,
- Thou wilt not only loose the forfeiture,
- But, touch'd with human gentleness and love,
- Forgive a moiety of the principal,
- Glancing an eye of pity on his losses,
- That have of late so huddled on his back-
- Enow to press a royal merchant down,
- And pluck commiseration of his state
- From brassy bosoms and rough hearts of flint,
- From stubborn Turks and Tartars, never train'd
- To offices of tender courtesy.
- We all expect a gentle answer, Jew.
- SHYLOCK. I have possess'd your Grace of what I purpose,
- And by our holy Sabbath have I sworn
- To have the due and forfeit of my bond.
- If you deny it, let the danger light
- Upon your charter and your city's freedom.
- You'll ask me why I rather choose to have
- A weight of carrion flesh than to receive
- Three thousand ducats. I'll not answer that,
- But say it is my humour- is it answer'd?
- What if my house be troubled with a rat,
- And I be pleas'd to give ten thousand ducats
- To have it ban'd? What, are you answer'd yet?
- Some men there are love not a gaping pig;
- Some that are mad if they behold a cat;
- And others, when the bagpipe sings i' th' nose,
- Cannot contain their urine; for affection,
- Mistress of passion, sways it to the mood
- Of what it likes or loathes. Now, for your answer:
- As there is no firm reason to be rend'red
- Why he cannot abide a gaping pig;
- Why he, a harmless necessary cat;
- Why he, a woollen bagpipe, but of force
- Must yield to such inevitable shame
- As to offend, himself being offended;
- So can I give no reason, nor I will not,
- More than a lodg'd hate and a certain loathing
- I bear Antonio, that I follow thus
- A losing suit against him. Are you answered?
- BASSANIO. This is no answer, thou unfeeling man,
- To excuse the current of thy cruelty.
- SHYLOCK. I am not bound to please thee with my answers.
- BASSANIO. Do all men kill the things they do not love?
- SHYLOCK. Hates any man the thing he would not kill?
- BASSANIO. Every offence is not a hate at first.
- SHYLOCK. What, wouldst thou have a serpent sting thee twice?
- ANTONIO. I pray you, think you question with the Jew.
- You may as well go stand upon the beach
- And bid the main flood bate his usual height;
- You may as well use question with the wolf,
- Why he hath made the ewe bleat for the lamb;
- You may as well forbid the mountain pines
- To wag their high tops and to make no noise
- When they are fretten with the gusts of heaven;
- You may as well do anything most hard
- As seek to soften that- than which what's harder?-
- His jewish heart. Therefore, I do beseech you,
- Make no moe offers, use no farther means,
- But with all brief and plain conveniency
- Let me have judgment, and the Jew his will.
- BASSANIO. For thy three thousand ducats here is six.
- SHYLOCK. If every ducat in six thousand ducats
- Were in six parts, and every part a ducat,
- I would not draw them; I would have my bond.
- DUKE OF VENICE. How shalt thou hope for mercy, rend'ring none?
- SHYLOCK. What judgment shall I dread, doing no wrong?
- You have among you many a purchas'd slave,
- Which, fike your asses and your dogs and mules,
- You use in abject and in slavish parts,
- Because you bought them; shall I say to you
- 'Let them be free, marry them to your heirs-
- Why sweat they under burdens?- let their beds
- Be made as soft as yours, and let their palates
- Be season'd with such viands'? You will answer
- 'The slaves are ours.' So do I answer you:
- The pound of flesh which I demand of him
- Is dearly bought, 'tis mine, and I will have it.
- If you deny me, fie upon your law!
- There is no force in the decrees of Venice.
- I stand for judgment; answer; shall I have it?
- DUKE OF VENICE. Upon my power I may dismiss this court,
- Unless Bellario, a learned doctor,
- Whom I have sent for to determine this,
- Come here to-day.
- SALERIO. My lord, here stays without
- A messenger with letters from the doctor,
- New come from Padua.
- DUKE OF VENICE. Bring us the letters; call the messenger.
- BASSANIO. Good cheer, Antonio! What, man, courage yet!
- The Jew shall have my flesh, blood, bones, and all,
- Ere thou shalt lose for me one drop of blood.
- ANTONIO. I am a tainted wether of the flock,
- Meetest for death; the weakest kind of fruit
- Drops earliest to the ground, and so let me.
- You cannot better be employ'd, Bassanio,
- Than to live still, and write mine epitaph.
-
- Enter NERISSA dressed like a lawyer's clerk
-
- DUKE OF VENICE. Came you from Padua, from Bellario?
- NERISSA. From both, my lord. Bellario greets your Grace.
- [Presents a letter]
- BASSANIO. Why dost thou whet thy knife so earnestly?
- SHYLOCK. To cut the forfeiture from that bankrupt there.
- GRATIANO. Not on thy sole, but on thy soul, harsh Jew,
- Thou mak'st thy knife keen; but no metal can,
- No, not the hangman's axe, bear half the keenness
- Of thy sharp envy. Can no prayers pierce thee?
- SHYLOCK. No, none that thou hast wit enough to make.
- GRATIANO. O, be thou damn'd, inexecrable dog!
- And for thy life let justice be accus'd.
- Thou almost mak'st me waver in my faith,
- To hold opinion with Pythagoras
- That souls of animals infuse themselves
- Into the trunks of men. Thy currish spirit
- Govern'd a wolf who, hang'd for human slaughter,
- Even from the gallows did his fell soul fleet,
- And, whilst thou layest in thy unhallowed dam,
- Infus'd itself in thee; for thy desires
- Are wolfish, bloody, starv'd and ravenous.
- SHYLOCK. Till thou canst rail the seal from off my bond,
- Thou but offend'st thy lungs to speak so loud;
- Repair thy wit, good youth, or it will fall
- To cureless ruin. I stand here for law.
- DUKE OF VENICE. This letter from Bellario doth commend
- A young and learned doctor to our court.
- Where is he?
- NERISSA. He attendeth here hard by
- To know your answer, whether you'll admit him.
- DUKE OF VENICE. With all my heart. Some three or four of you
- Go give him courteous conduct to this place.
- Meantime, the court shall hear Bellario's letter.
- CLERK. [Reads] 'Your Grace shall understand that at the receipt
- of your letter I am very sick; but in the instant that your
- messenger came, in loving visitation was with me a young doctor
- of Rome- his name is Balthazar. I acquainted him with the cause
- in controversy between the Jew and Antonio the merchant; we
- turn'd o'er many books together; he is furnished with my opinion
- which, bettered with his own learning-the greatness whereof I
- cannot enough commend- comes with him at my importunity to fill
- up your Grace's request in my stead. I beseech you let his lack
- of years be no impediment to let him lack a reverend estimation,
- for I never knew so young a body with so old a head. I leave him
- to your gracious acceptance, whose trial shall better publish his
- commendation.'
-
- Enter PORTIA for BALTHAZAR, dressed like a Doctor of Laws
-
- DUKE OF VENICE. YOU hear the learn'd Bellario, what he writes;
- And here, I take it, is the doctor come.
- Give me your hand; come you from old Bellario?
- PORTIA. I did, my lord.
- DUKE OF VENICE. You are welcome; take your place.
- Are you acquainted with the difference
- That holds this present question in the court?
- PORTIA. I am informed throughly of the cause.
- Which is the merchant here, and which the Jew?
- DUKE OF VENICE. Antonio and old Shylock, both stand forth.
- PORTIA. Is your name Shylock?
- SHYLOCK. Shylock is my name.
- PORTIA. Of a strange nature is the suit you follow;
- Yet in such rule that the Venetian law
- Cannot impugn you as you do proceed.
- You stand within his danger, do you not?
- ANTONIO. Ay, so he says.
- PORTIA. Do you confess the bond?
- ANTONIO. I do.
- PORTIA. Then must the Jew be merciful.
- SHYLOCK. On what compulsion must I? Tell me that.
- PORTIA. The quality of mercy is not strain'd;
- It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
- Upon the place beneath. It is twice blest:
- It blesseth him that gives and him that takes.
- 'Tis mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes
- The throned monarch better than his crown;
- His sceptre shows the force of temporal power,
- The attribute to awe and majesty,
- Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings;
- But mercy is above this sceptred sway,
- It is enthroned in the hearts of kings,
- It is an attribute to God himself;
- And earthly power doth then show likest God's
- When mercy seasons justice. Therefore, Jew,
- Though justice be thy plea, consider this-
- That in the course of justice none of us
- Should see salvation; we do pray for mercy,
- And that same prayer doth teach us all to render
- The deeds of mercy. I have spoke thus much
- To mitigate the justice of thy plea,
- Which if thou follow, this strict court of Venice
- Must needs give sentence 'gainst the merchant there.
- SHYLOCK. My deeds upon my head! I crave the law,
- The penalty and forfeit of my bond.
- BASSANIO. Yes; here I tender it for him in the court;
- Yea, twice the sum; if that will not suffice,
- I will be bound to pay it ten times o'er
- On forfeit of my hands, my head, my heart;
- If this will not suffice, it must appear
- That malice bears down truth. And, I beseech you,
- Wrest once the law to your authority;
- To do a great right do a little wrong,
- And curb this cruel devil of his will.
- PORTIA. It must not be; there is no power in Venice
- Can alter a decree established;
- 'Twill be recorded for a precedent,
- And many an error, by the same example,
- Will rush into the state; it cannot be.
- SHYLOCK. A Daniel come to judgment! Yea, a Daniel!
- O wise young judge, how I do honour thee!
- PORTIA. I pray you, let me look upon the bond.
- SHYLOCK. Here 'tis, most reverend Doctor; here it is.
- PORTIA. Shylock, there's thrice thy money off'red thee.
- SHYLOCK. An oath, an oath! I have an oath in heaven.
- Shall I lay perjury upon my soul?
- No, not for Venice.
- PORTIA. Why, this bond is forfeit;
- And lawfully by this the Jew may claim
- A pound of flesh, to be by him cut off
- Nearest the merchant's heart. Be merciful.
- Take thrice thy money; bid me tear the bond.
- SHYLOCK. When it is paid according to the tenour.
- It doth appear you are a worthy judge;
- You know the law; your exposition
- Hath been most sound; I charge you by the law,
- Whereof you are a well-deserving pillar,
- Proceed to judgment. By my soul I swear
- There is no power in the tongue of man
- To alter me. I stay here on my bond.
- ANTONIO. Most heartily I do beseech the court
- To give the judgment.
- PORTIA. Why then, thus it is:
- You must prepare your bosom for his knife.
- SHYLOCK. O noble judge! O excellent young man!
- PORTIA. For the intent and purpose of the law
- Hath full relation to the penalty,
- Which here appeareth due upon the bond.
- SHYLOCK. 'Tis very true. O wise and upright judge,
- How much more elder art thou than thy looks!
- PORTIA. Therefore, lay bare your bosom.
- SHYLOCK. Ay, his breast-
- So says the bond; doth it not, noble judge?
- 'Nearest his heart,' those are the very words.
- PORTIA. It is so. Are there balance here to weigh
- The flesh?
- SHYLOCK. I have them ready.
- PORTIA. Have by some surgeon, Shylock, on your charge,
- To stop his wounds, lest he do bleed to death.
- SHYLOCK. Is it so nominated in the bond?
- PORTIA. It is not so express'd, but what of that?
- 'Twere good you do so much for charity.
- SHYLOCK. I cannot find it; 'tis not in the bond.
- PORTIA. You, merchant, have you anything to say?
- ANTONIO. But little: I am arm'd and well prepar'd.
- Give me your hand, Bassanio; fare you well.
- Grieve not that I am fall'n to this for you,
- For herein Fortune shows herself more kind
- Than is her custom. It is still her use
- To let the wretched man outlive his wealth,
- To view with hollow eye and wrinkled brow
- An age of poverty; from which ling'ring penance
- Of such misery doth she cut me off.
- Commend me to your honourable wife;
- Tell her the process of Antonio's end;
- Say how I lov'd you; speak me fair in death;
- And, when the tale is told, bid her be judge
- Whether Bassanio had not once a love.
- Repent but you that you shall lose your friend,
- And he repents not that he pays your debt;
- For if the Jew do cut but deep enough,
- I'll pay it instantly with all my heart.
- BASSANIO. Antonio, I am married to a wife
- Which is as dear to me as life itself;
- But life itself, my wife, and all the world,
- Are not with me esteem'd above thy life;
- I would lose all, ay, sacrifice them all
- Here to this devil, to deliver you.
- PORTIA. Your wife would give you little thanks for that,
- If she were by to hear you make the offer.
- GRATIANO. I have a wife who I protest I love;
- I would she were in heaven, so she could
- Entreat some power to change this currish Jew.
- NERISSA. 'Tis well you offer it behind her back;
- The wish would make else an unquiet house.
- SHYLOCK. [Aside] These be the Christian husbands! I have a
- daughter-
- Would any of the stock of Barrabas
- Had been her husband, rather than a Christian!-
- We trifle time; I pray thee pursue sentence.
- PORTIA. A pound of that same merchant's flesh is thine.
- The court awards it and the law doth give it.
- SHYLOCK. Most rightful judge!
- PORTIA. And you must cut this flesh from off his breast.
- The law allows it and the court awards it.
- SHYLOCK. Most learned judge! A sentence! Come, prepare.
- PORTIA. Tarry a little; there is something else.
- This bond doth give thee here no jot of blood:
- The words expressly are 'a pound of flesh.'
- Take then thy bond, take thou thy pound of flesh;
- But, in the cutting it, if thou dost shed
- One drop of Christian blood, thy lands and goods
- Are, by the laws of Venice, confiscate
- Unto the state of Venice.
- GRATIANO. O upright judge! Mark, Jew. O learned judge!
- SHYLOCK. Is that the law?
- PORTIA. Thyself shalt see the act;
- For, as thou urgest justice, be assur'd
- Thou shalt have justice, more than thou desir'st.
- GRATIANO. O learned judge! Mark, Jew. A learned judge!
- SHYLOCK. I take this offer then: pay the bond thrice,
- And let the Christian go.
- BASSANIO. Here is the money.
- PORTIA. Soft!
- The Jew shall have all justice. Soft! No haste.
- He shall have nothing but the penalty.
- GRATIANO. O Jew! an upright judge, a learned judge!
- PORTIA. Therefore, prepare thee to cut off the flesh.
- Shed thou no blood, nor cut thou less nor more
- But just a pound of flesh; if thou tak'st more
- Or less than a just pound- be it but so much
- As makes it light or heavy in the substance,
- Or the division of the twentieth part
- Of one poor scruple; nay, if the scale do turn
- But in the estimation of a hair-
- Thou diest, and all thy goods are confiscate.
- GRATIANO. A second Daniel, a Daniel, Jew!
- Now, infidel, I have you on the hip.
- PORTIA. Why doth the Jew pause? Take thy forfeiture.
- SHYLOCK. Give me my principal, and let me go.
- BASSANIO. I have it ready for thee; here it is.
- PORTIA. He hath refus'd it in the open court;
- He shall have merely justice, and his bond.
- GRATIANO. A Daniel still say I, a second Daniel!
- I thank thee, Jew, for teaching me that word.
- SHYLOCK. Shall I not have barely my principal?
- PORTIA. Thou shalt have nothing but the forfeiture
- To be so taken at thy peril, Jew.
- SHYLOCK. Why, then the devil give him good of it!
- I'll stay no longer question.
- PORTIA. Tarry, Jew.
- The law hath yet another hold on you.
- It is enacted in the laws of Venice,
- If it be proved against an alien
- That by direct or indirect attempts
- He seek the life of any citizen,
- The party 'gainst the which he doth contrive
- Shall seize one half his goods; the other half
- Comes to the privy coffer of the state;
- And the offender's life lies in the mercy
- Of the Duke only, 'gainst all other voice.
- In which predicament, I say, thou stand'st;
- For it appears by manifest proceeding
- That indirectly, and directly too,
- Thou hast contrived against the very life
- Of the defendant; and thou hast incurr'd
- The danger formerly by me rehears'd.
- Down, therefore, and beg mercy of the Duke.
- GRATIANO. Beg that thou mayst have leave to hang thyself;
- And yet, thy wealth being forfeit to the state,
- Thou hast not left the value of a cord;
- Therefore thou must be hang'd at the state's charge.
- DUKE OF VENICE. That thou shalt see the difference of our spirit,
- I pardon thee thy life before thou ask it.
- For half thy wealth, it is Antonio's;
- The other half comes to the general state,
- Which humbleness may drive unto a fine.
- PORTIA. Ay, for the state; not for Antonio.
- SHYLOCK. Nay, take my life and all, pardon not that.
- You take my house when you do take the prop
- That doth sustain my house; you take my life
- When you do take the means whereby I live.
- PORTIA. What mercy can you render him, Antonio?
- GRATIANO. A halter gratis; nothing else, for God's sake!
- ANTONIO. So please my lord the Duke and all the court
- To quit the fine for one half of his goods;
- I am content, so he will let me have
- The other half in use, to render it
- Upon his death unto the gentleman
- That lately stole his daughter-
- Two things provided more; that, for this favour,
- He presently become a Christian;
- The other, that he do record a gift,
- Here in the court, of all he dies possess'd
- Unto his son Lorenzo and his daughter.
- DUKE OF VENICE. He shall do this, or else I do recant
- The pardon that I late pronounced here.
- PORTIA. Art thou contented, Jew? What dost thou say?
- SHYLOCK. I am content.
- PORTIA. Clerk, draw a deed of gift.
- SHYLOCK. I pray you, give me leave to go from hence;
- I am not well; send the deed after me
- And I will sign it.
- DUKE OF VENICE. Get thee gone, but do it.
- GRATIANO. In christ'ning shalt thou have two god-fathers;
- Had I been judge, thou shouldst have had ten more,
- To bring thee to the gallows, not to the font.
- Exit SHYLOCK
- DUKE OF VENICE. Sir, I entreat you home with me to dinner.
- PORTIA. I humbly do desire your Grace of pardon;
- I must away this night toward Padua,
- And it is meet I presently set forth.
- DUKE OF VENICE. I am sorry that your leisure serves you not.
- Antonio, gratify this gentleman,
- For in my mind you are much bound to him.
- Exeunt DUKE, MAGNIFICOES, and train
- BASSANIO. Most worthy gentleman, I and my friend
- Have by your wisdom been this day acquitted
- Of grievous penalties; in lieu whereof
- Three thousand ducats, due unto the Jew,
- We freely cope your courteous pains withal.
- ANTONIO. And stand indebted, over and above,
- In love and service to you evermore.
- PORTIA. He is well paid that is well satisfied,
- And I, delivering you, am satisfied,
- And therein do account myself well paid.
- My mind was never yet more mercenary.
- I pray you, know me when we meet again;
- I wish you well, and so I take my leave.
- BASSANIO. Dear sir, of force I must attempt you further;
- Take some remembrance of us, as a tribute,
- Not as fee. Grant me two things, I pray you,
- Not to deny me, and to pardon me.
- PORTIA. You press me far, and therefore I will yield.
- [To ANTONIO] Give me your gloves, I'll wear them for your sake.
- [To BASSANIO] And, for your love, I'll take this ring from you.
- Do not draw back your hand; I'll take no more,
- And you in love shall not deny me this.
- BASSANIO. This ring, good sir- alas, it is a trifle;
- I will not shame myself to give you this.
- PORTIA. I will have nothing else but only this;
- And now, methinks, I have a mind to it.
- BASSANIO.. There's more depends on this than on the value.
- The dearest ring in Venice will I give you,
- And find it out by proclamation;
- Only for this, I pray you, pardon me.
- PORTIA. I see, sir, you are liberal in offers;
- You taught me first to beg, and now, methinks,
- You teach me how a beggar should be answer'd.
- BASSANIO. Good sir, this ring was given me by my wife;
- And, when she put it on, she made me vow
- That I should neither sell, nor give, nor lose it.
- PORTIA. That 'scuse serves many men to save their gifts.
- And if your wife be not a mad woman,
- And know how well I have deserv'd this ring,
- She would not hold out enemy for ever
- For giving it to me. Well, peace be with you!
- Exeunt PORTIA and NERISSA
- ANTONIO. My Lord Bassanio, let him have the ring.
- Let his deservings, and my love withal,
- Be valued 'gainst your wife's commandment.
- BASSANIO. Go, Gratiano, run and overtake him;
- Give him the ring, and bring him, if thou canst,
- Unto Antonio's house. Away, make haste. Exit GRATIANO
- Come, you and I will thither presently;
- And in the morning early will we both
- Fly toward Belmont. Come, Antonio. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-Venice. A street
-
-Enter PORTIA and NERISSA
-
- PORTIA. Inquire the Jew's house out, give him this deed,
- And let him sign it; we'll away tonight,
- And be a day before our husbands home.
- This deed will be well welcome to Lorenzo.
-
- Enter GRATIANO
-
- GRATIANO. Fair sir, you are well o'erta'en.
- My Lord Bassanio, upon more advice,
- Hath sent you here this ring, and doth entreat
- Your company at dinner.
- PORTIA. That cannot be.
- His ring I do accept most thankfully,
- And so, I pray you, tell him. Furthermore,
- I pray you show my youth old Shylock's house.
- GRATIANO. That will I do.
- NERISSA. Sir, I would speak with you.
- [Aside to PORTIA] I'll See if I can get my husband's ring,
- Which I did make him swear to keep for ever.
- PORTIA. [To NERISSA] Thou Mayst, I warrant. We shall have old
- swearing
- That they did give the rings away to men;
- But we'll outface them, and outswear them too.
- [Aloud] Away, make haste, thou know'st where I will tarry.
- NERISSA. Come, good sir, will you show me to this house?
- Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-ACT V. SCENE I.
-Belmont. The garden before PORTIA'S house
-
-Enter LORENZO and JESSICA
-
- LORENZO. The moon shines bright. In such a night as this,
- When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees,
- And they did make no noise- in such a night,
- Troilus methinks mounted the Troyan walls,
- And sigh'd his soul toward the Grecian tents,
- Where Cressid lay that night.
- JESSICA. In such a night
- Did Thisby fearfully o'ertrip the dew,
- And saw the lion's shadow ere himself,
- And ran dismayed away.
- LORENZO. In such a night
- Stood Dido with a willow in her hand
- Upon the wild sea-banks, and waft her love
- To come again to Carthage.
- JESSICA. In such a night
- Medea gathered the enchanted herbs
- That did renew old AEson.
- LORENZO. In such a night
- Did Jessica steal from the wealthy Jew,
- And with an unthrift love did run from Venice
- As far as Belmont.
- JESSICA. In such a night
- Did young Lorenzo swear he lov'd her well,
- Stealing her soul with many vows of faith,
- And ne'er a true one.
- LORENZO. In such a night
- Did pretty Jessica, like a little shrew,
- Slander her love, and he forgave it her.
- JESSICA. I would out-night you, did no body come;
- But, hark, I hear the footing of a man.
-
- Enter STEPHANO
-
- LORENZO. Who comes so fast in silence of the night?
- STEPHANO. A friend.
- LORENZO. A friend! What friend? Your name, I pray you, friend?
- STEPHANO. Stephano is my name, and I bring word
- My mistress will before the break of day
- Be here at Belmont; she doth stray about
- By holy crosses, where she kneels and prays
- For happy wedlock hours.
- LORENZO. Who comes with her?
- STEPHANO. None but a holy hermit and her maid.
- I pray you, is my master yet return'd?
- LORENZO. He is not, nor we have not heard from him.
- But go we in, I pray thee, Jessica,
- And ceremoniously let us prepare
- Some welcome for the mistress of the house.
-
- Enter LAUNCELOT
-
- LAUNCELOT. Sola, sola! wo ha, ho! sola, sola!
- LORENZO. Who calls?
- LAUNCELOT. Sola! Did you see Master Lorenzo? Master Lorenzo! Sola,
- sola!
- LORENZO. Leave holloaing, man. Here!
- LAUNCELOT. Sola! Where, where?
- LORENZO. Here!
- LAUNCELOT. Tell him there's a post come from my master with his
- horn full of good news; my master will be here ere morning.
- Exit
- LORENZO. Sweet soul, let's in, and there expect their coming.
- And yet no matter- why should we go in?
- My friend Stephano, signify, I pray you,
- Within the house, your mistress is at hand;
- And bring your music forth into the air. Exit STEPHANO
- How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank!
- Here will we sit and let the sounds of music
- Creep in our ears; soft stillness and the night
- Become the touches of sweet harmony.
- Sit, Jessica. Look how the floor of heaven
- Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold;
- There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st
- But in his motion like an angel sings,
- Still quiring to the young-ey'd cherubins;
- Such harmony is in immortal souls,
- But whilst this muddy vesture of decay
- Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it.
-
- Enter MUSICIANS
-
- Come, ho, and wake Diana with a hymn;
- With sweetest touches pierce your mistress' ear.
- And draw her home with music. [Music]
- JESSICA. I am never merry when I hear sweet music.
- LORENZO. The reason is your spirits are attentive;
- For do but note a wild and wanton herd,
- Or race of youthful and unhandled colts,
- Fetching mad bounds, bellowing and neighing loud,
- Which is the hot condition of their blood-
- If they but hear perchance a trumpet sound,
- Or any air of music touch their ears,
- You shall perceive them make a mutual stand,
- Their savage eyes turn'd to a modest gaze
- By the sweet power of music. Therefore the poet
- Did feign that Orpheus drew trees, stones, and floods;
- Since nought so stockish, hard, and full of rage,
- But music for the time doth change his nature.
- The man that hath no music in himself,
- Nor is not mov'd with concord of sweet sounds,
- Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils;
- The motions of his spirit are dull:as night,
- And his affections dark as Erebus.
- Let no such man be trusted. Mark the music.
-
- Enter PORTIA and NERISSA
-
- PORTIA. That light we see is burning in my hall.
- How far that little candle throws his beams!
- So shines a good deed in a naughty world.
- NERISSA. When the moon shone, we did not see the candle.
- PORTIA. So doth the greater glory dim the less:
- A substitute shines brightly as a king
- Until a king be by, and then his state
- Empties itself, as doth an inland brook
- Into the main of waters. Music! hark!
- NERISSA. It is your music, madam, of the house.
- PORTIA. Nothing is good, I see, without respect;
- Methinks it sounds much sweeter than by day.
- NERISSA. Silence bestows that virtue on it, madam.
- PORTIA. The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark
- When neither is attended; and I think
- ne nightingale, if she should sing by day,
- When every goose is cackling, would be thought
- No better a musician than the wren.
- How many things by season season'd are
- To their right praise and true perfection!
- Peace, ho! The moon sleeps with Endymion,
- And would not be awak'd. [Music ceases]
- LORENZO. That is the voice,
- Or I am much deceiv'd, of Portia.
- PORTIA. He knows me as the blind man knows the cuckoo,
- By the bad voice.
- LORENZO. Dear lady, welcome home.
- PORTIA. We have been praying for our husbands' welfare,
- Which speed, we hope, the better for our words.
- Are they return'd?
- LORENZO. Madam, they are not yet;
- But there is come a messenger before,
- To signify their coming.
- PORTIA.. Go in, Nerissa;
- Give order to my servants that they take
- No note at all of our being absent hence;
- Nor you, Lorenzo; Jessica, nor you. [A tucket sounds]
- LORENZO. Your husband is at hand; I hear his trumpet.
- We are no tell-tales, madam, fear you not.
- PORTIA. This night methinks is but the daylight sick;
- It looks a little paler; 'tis a day
- Such as the day is when the sun is hid.
-
- Enter BASSANIO, ANTONIO, GRATIANO, and their followers
-
- BASSANIO. We should hold day with the Antipodes,
- If you would walk in absence of the sun.
- PORTIA. Let me give light, but let me not be light,
- For a light wife doth make a heavy husband,
- And never be Bassanio so for me;
- But God sort all! You are welcome home, my lord.
- BASSANIO. I thank you, madam; give welcome to my friend.
- This is the man, this is Antonio,
- To whom I am so infinitely bound.
- PORTIA. You should in all sense be much bound to him,
- For, as I hear, he was much bound for you.
- ANTONIO. No more than I am well acquitted of.
- PORTIA. Sir, you are very welcome to our house.
- It must appear in other ways than words,
- Therefore I scant this breathing courtesy.
- GRATIANO. [To NERISSA] By yonder moon I swear you do me wrong;
- In faith, I gave it to the judge's clerk.
- Would he were gelt that had it, for my part,
- Since you do take it, love, so much at heart.
- PORTIA. A quarrel, ho, already! What's the matter?
- GRATIANO. About a hoop of gold, a paltry ring
- That she did give me, whose posy was
- For all the world like cutler's poetry
- Upon a knife, 'Love me, and leave me not.'
- NERISSA. What talk you of the posy or the value?
- You swore to me, when I did give it you,
- That you would wear it till your hour of death,
- And that it should lie with you in your grave;
- Though not for me, yet for your vehement oaths,
- You should have been respective and have kept it.
- Gave it a judge's clerk! No, God's my judge,
- The clerk will ne'er wear hair on's face that had it.
- GRATIANO. He will, an if he live to be a man.
- NERISSA. Ay, if a woman live to be a man.
- GRATIANO. Now by this hand I gave it to a youth,
- A kind of boy, a little scrubbed boy
- No higher than thyself, the judge's clerk;
- A prating boy that begg'd it as a fee;
- I could not for my heart deny it him.
- PORTIA. You were to blame, I must be plain with you,
- To part so slightly with your wife's first gift,
- A thing stuck on with oaths upon your finger
- And so riveted with faith unto your flesh.
- I gave my love a ring, and made him swear
- Never to part with it, and here he stands;
- I dare be sworn for him he would not leave it
- Nor pluck it from his finger for the wealth
- That the world masters. Now, in faith, Gratiano,
- You give your wife too unkind a cause of grief;
- An 'twere to me, I should be mad at it.
- BASSANIO. [Aside] Why, I were best to cut my left hand off,
- And swear I lost the ring defending it.
- GRATIANO. My Lord Bassanio gave his ring away
- Unto the judge that begg'd it, and indeed
- Deserv'd it too; and then the boy, his clerk,
- That took some pains in writing, he begg'd mine;
- And neither man nor master would take aught
- But the two rings.
- PORTIA. What ring gave you, my lord?
- Not that, I hope, which you receiv'd of me.
- BASSANIO. If I could add a lie unto a fault,
- I would deny it; but you see my finger
- Hath not the ring upon it; it is gone.
- PORTIA. Even so void is your false heart of truth;
- By heaven, I will ne'er come in your bed
- Until I see the ring.
- NERISSA. Nor I in yours
- Till I again see mine.
- BASSANIO. Sweet Portia,
- If you did know to whom I gave the ring,
- If you did know for whom I gave the ring,
- And would conceive for what I gave the ring,
- And how unwillingly I left the ring,
- When nought would be accepted but the ring,
- You would abate the strength of your displeasure.
- PORTIA. If you had known the virtue of the ring,
- Or half her worthiness that gave the ring,
- Or your own honour to contain the ring,
- You would not then have parted with the ring.
- What man is there so much unreasonable,
- If you had pleas'd to have defended it
- With any terms of zeal, wanted the modesty
- To urge the thing held as a ceremony?
- Nerissa teaches me what to believe:
- I'll die for't but some woman had the ring.
- BASSANIO. No, by my honour, madam, by my soul,
- No woman had it, but a civil doctor,
- Which did refuse three thousand ducats of me,
- And begg'd the ring; the which I did deny him,
- And suffer'd him to go displeas'd away-
- Even he that had held up the very life
- Of my dear friend. What should I say, sweet lady?
- I was enforc'd to send it after him;
- I was beset with shame and courtesy;
- My honour would not let ingratitude
- So much besmear it. Pardon me, good lady;
- For by these blessed candles of the night,
- Had you been there, I think you would have begg'd
- The ring of me to give the worthy doctor.
- PORTIA. Let not that doctor e'er come near my house;
- Since he hath got the jewel that I loved,
- And that which you did swear to keep for me,
- I will become as liberal as you;
- I'll not deny him anything I have,
- No, not my body, nor my husband's bed.
- Know him I shall, I am well sure of it.
- Lie not a night from home; watch me like Argus;
- If you do not, if I be left alone,
- Now, by mine honour which is yet mine own,
- I'll have that doctor for mine bedfellow.
- NERISSA. And I his clerk; therefore be well advis'd
- How you do leave me to mine own protection.
- GRATIANO. Well, do you so, let not me take him then;
- For, if I do, I'll mar the young clerk's pen.
- ANTONIO. I am th' unhappy subject of these quarrels.
- PORTIA. Sir, grieve not you; you are welcome not withstanding.
- BASSANIO. Portia, forgive me this enforced wrong;
- And in the hearing of these many friends
- I swear to thee, even by thine own fair eyes,
- Wherein I see myself-
- PORTIA. Mark you but that!
- In both my eyes he doubly sees himself,
- In each eye one; swear by your double self,
- And there's an oath of credit.
- BASSANIO. Nay, but hear me.
- Pardon this fault, and by my soul I swear
- I never more will break an oath with thee.
- ANTONIO. I once did lend my body for his wealth,
- Which, but for him that had your husband's ring,
- Had quite miscarried; I dare be bound again,
- My soul upon the forfeit, that your lord
- Will never more break faith advisedly.
- PORTIA. Then you shall be his surety. Give him this,
- And bid him keep it better than the other.
- ANTONIO. Here, Lord Bassanio, swear to keep this ring.
- BASSANIO. By heaven, it is the same I gave the doctor!
- PORTIA. I had it of him. Pardon me, Bassanio,
- For, by this ring, the doctor lay with me.
- NERISSA. And pardon me, my gentle Gratiano,
- For that same scrubbed boy, the doctor's clerk,
- In lieu of this, last night did lie with me.
- GRATIANO. Why, this is like the mending of highways
- In summer, where the ways are fair enough.
- What, are we cuckolds ere we have deserv'd it?
- PORTIA. Speak not so grossly. You are all amaz'd.
- Here is a letter; read it at your leisure;
- It comes from Padua, from Bellario;
- There you shall find that Portia was the doctor,
- Nerissa there her clerk. Lorenzo here
- Shall witness I set forth as soon as you,
- And even but now return'd; I have not yet
- Enter'd my house. Antonio, you are welcome;
- And I have better news in store for you
- Than you expect. Unseal this letter soon;
- There you shall find three of your argosies
- Are richly come to harbour suddenly.
- You shall not know by what strange accident
- I chanced on this letter.
- ANTONIO. I am dumb.
- BASSANIO. Were you the doctor, and I knew you not?
- GRATIANO. Were you the clerk that is to make me cuckold?
- NERISSA. Ay, but the clerk that never means to do it,
- Unless he live until he be a man.
- BASSANIO. Sweet doctor, you shall be my bedfellow;
- When I am absent, then lie with my wife.
- ANTONIO. Sweet lady, you have given me life and living;
- For here I read for certain that my ships
- Are safely come to road.
- PORTIA. How now, Lorenzo!
- My clerk hath some good comforts too for you.
- NERISSA. Ay, and I'll give them him without a fee.
- There do I give to you and Jessica,
- From the rich Jew, a special deed of gift,
- After his death, of all he dies possess'd of.
- LORENZO. Fair ladies, you drop manna in the way
- Of starved people.
- PORTIA. It is almost morning,
- And yet I am sure you are not satisfied
- Of these events at full. Let us go in,
- And charge us there upon inter'gatories,
- And we will answer all things faithfully.
- GRATIANO. Let it be so. The first inter'gatory
- That my Nerissa shall be sworn on is,
- Whether till the next night she had rather stay,
- Or go to bed now, being two hours to day.
- But were the day come, I should wish it dark,
- Till I were couching with the doctor's clerk.
- Well, while I live, I'll fear no other thing
- So sore as keeping safe Nerissa's ring. Exeunt
-
-THE END
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-
-
-1601
-
-THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR
-
-by William Shakespeare
-
-
-
-Dramatis Personae
-
- SIR JOHN FALSTAFF
- FENTON, a young gentleman
- SHALLOW, a country justice
- SLENDER, cousin to Shallow
-
- Gentlemen of Windsor
- FORD
- PAGE
- WILLIAM PAGE, a boy, son to Page
- SIR HUGH EVANS, a Welsh parson
- DOCTOR CAIUS, a French physician
- HOST of the Garter Inn
-
- Followers of Falstaff
- BARDOLPH
- PISTOL
- NYM
- ROBIN, page to Falstaff
- SIMPLE, servant to Slender
- RUGBY, servant to Doctor Caius
-
- MISTRESS FORD
- MISTRESS PAGE
- MISTRESS ANNE PAGE, her daughter
- MISTRESS QUICKLY, servant to Doctor Caius
- SERVANTS to Page, Ford, etc.
-
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-SCENE:
-Windsor, and the neighbourhood
-
-
-The Merry Wives of Windsor
-
-
-
-ACT I. SCENE 1.
-
-Windsor. Before PAGE'S house
-
-Enter JUSTICE SHALLOW, SLENDER, and SIR HUGH EVANS
-
- SHALLOW. Sir Hugh, persuade me not; I will make a Star
- Chamber matter of it; if he were twenty Sir John Falstaffs,
- he shall not abuse Robert Shallow, esquire.
- SLENDER. In the county of Gloucester, Justice of Peace, and
- Coram.
- SHALLOW. Ay, cousin Slender, and Custalorum.
- SLENDER. Ay, and Ratolorum too; and a gentleman born,
- Master Parson, who writes himself 'Armigero' in any bill,
- warrant, quittance, or obligation-'Armigero.'
- SHALLOW. Ay, that I do; and have done any time these three
- hundred years.
- SLENDER. All his successors, gone before him, hath done't;
- and all his ancestors, that come after him, may: they may
- give the dozen white luces in their coat.
- SHALLOW. It is an old coat.
- EVANS. The dozen white louses do become an old coat well;
- it agrees well, passant; it is a familiar beast to man, and
- signifies love.
- SHALLOW. The luce is the fresh fish; the salt fish is an old
- coat.
- SLENDER. I may quarter, coz.
- SHALLOW. You may, by marrying.
- EVANS. It is marring indeed, if he quarter it.
- SHALLOW. Not a whit.
- EVANS. Yes, py'r lady! If he has a quarter of your coat, there
- is but three skirts for yourself, in my simple conjectures;
- but that is all one. If Sir John Falstaff have committed
- disparagements unto you, I am of the church, and will be
- glad to do my benevolence, to make atonements and
- compremises between you.
- SHALLOW. The Council shall hear it; it is a riot.
- EVANS. It is not meet the Council hear a riot; there is no
- fear of Got in a riot; the Council, look you, shall desire
- to hear the fear of Got, and not to hear a riot; take your
- vizaments in that.
- SHALLOW. Ha! o' my life, if I were young again, the sword
- should end it.
- EVANS. It is petter that friends is the sword and end it;
- and there is also another device in my prain, which
- peradventure prings goot discretions with it. There is Anne
- Page, which is daughter to Master George Page, which is
- pretty virginity.
- SLENDER. Mistress Anne Page? She has brown hair, and
- speaks small like a woman.
- EVANS. It is that fery person for all the orld, as just as you
- will desire; and seven hundred pounds of moneys, and
- gold, and silver, is her grandsire upon his death's-bed-Got
- deliver to a joyful resurrections!-give, when she is able to
- overtake seventeen years old. It were a goot motion if we
- leave our pribbles and prabbles, and desire a marriage
- between Master Abraham and Mistress Anne Page.
- SHALLOW. Did her grandsire leave her seven hundred pound?
- EVANS. Ay, and her father is make her a petter penny.
- SHALLOW. I know the young gentlewoman; she has good
- gifts.
- EVANS. Seven hundred pounds, and possibilities, is goot gifts.
- SHALLOW. Well, let us see honest Master Page. Is Falstaff
- there?
- EVANS. Shall I tell you a lie? I do despise a liar as I do
- despise one that is false; or as I despise one that is not
- true. The knight Sir John is there; and, I beseech you, be
- ruled by your well-willers. I will peat the door for Master
- Page.
- [Knocks] What, hoa! Got pless your house here!
- PAGE. [Within] Who's there?
-
- Enter PAGE
-
- EVANS. Here is Got's plessing, and your friend, and Justice
- Shallow; and here young Master Slender, that peradventures
- shall tell you another tale, if matters grow to your
- likings.
- PAGE. I am glad to see your worships well. I thank you for
- my venison, Master Shallow.
- SHALLOW. Master Page, I am glad to see you; much good do
- it your good heart! I wish'd your venison better; it was ill
- kill'd. How doth good Mistress Page?-and I thank you
- always with my heart, la! with my heart.
- PAGE. Sir, I thank you.
- SHALLOW. Sir, I thank you; by yea and no, I do.
- PAGE. I am glad to see you, good Master Slender.
- SLENDER. How does your fallow greyhound, sir? I heard say
- he was outrun on Cotsall.
- PAGE. It could not be judg'd, sir.
- SLENDER. You'll not confess, you'll not confess.
- SHALLOW. That he will not. 'Tis your fault; 'tis your fault;
- 'tis a good dog.
- PAGE. A cur, sir.
- SHALLOW. Sir, he's a good dog, and a fair dog. Can there be
- more said? He is good, and fair. Is Sir John Falstaff here?
- PAGE. Sir, he is within; and I would I could do a good office
- between you.
- EVANS. It is spoke as a Christians ought to speak.
- SHALLOW. He hath wrong'd me, Master Page.
- PAGE. Sir, he doth in some sort confess it.
- SHALLOW. If it be confessed, it is not redressed; is not that
- so, Master Page? He hath wrong'd me; indeed he hath; at a
- word, he hath, believe me; Robert Shallow, esquire, saith
- he is wronged.
- PAGE. Here comes Sir John.
-
- Enter SIR JOHN FALSTAFF, BARDOLPH, NYM, and PISTOL
-
- FALSTAFF. Now, Master Shallow, you'll complain of me to
- the King?
- SHALLOW. Knight, you have beaten my men, kill'd my deer,
- and broke open my lodge.
- FALSTAFF. But not kiss'd your keeper's daughter.
- SHALLOW. Tut, a pin! this shall be answer'd.
- FALSTAFF. I will answer it straight: I have done all this.
- That is now answer'd.
- SHALLOW. The Council shall know this.
- FALSTAFF. 'Twere better for you if it were known in counsel:
- you'll be laugh'd at.
- EVANS. Pauca verba, Sir John; goot worts.
- FALSTAFF. Good worts! good cabbage! Slender, I broke your
- head; what matter have you against me?
- SLENDER. Marry, sir, I have matter in my head against you;
- and against your cony-catching rascals, Bardolph, Nym,
- and Pistol. They carried me to the tavern, and made me
- drunk, and afterwards pick'd my pocket.
- BARDOLPH. You Banbury cheese!
- SLENDER. Ay, it is no matter.
- PISTOL. How now, Mephostophilus!
- SLENDER. Ay, it is no matter.
- NYM. Slice, I say! pauca, pauca; slice! That's my humour.
- SLENDER. Where's Simple, my man? Can you tell, cousin?
- EVANS. Peace, I pray you. Now let us understand. There is
- three umpires in this matter, as I understand: that is,
- Master Page, fidelicet Master Page; and there is myself,
- fidelicet myself; and the three party is, lastly and
- finally, mine host of the Garter.
- PAGE. We three to hear it and end it between them.
- EVANS. Fery goot. I will make a prief of it in my note-book;
- and we will afterwards ork upon the cause with as great
- discreetly as we can.
- FALSTAFF. Pistol!
- PISTOL. He hears with ears.
- EVANS. The tevil and his tam! What phrase is this, 'He hears
- with ear'? Why, it is affectations.
- FALSTAFF. Pistol, did you pick Master Slender's purse?
- SLENDER. Ay, by these gloves, did he-or I would I might
- never come in mine own great chamber again else!-of
- seven groats in mill-sixpences, and two Edward
- shovel-boards that cost me two shilling and two pence apiece
- of Yead Miller, by these gloves.
- FALSTAFF. Is this true, Pistol?
- EVANS. No, it is false, if it is a pick-purse.
- PISTOL. Ha, thou mountain-foreigner! Sir John and master
- mine,
- I combat challenge of this latten bilbo.
- Word of denial in thy labras here!
- Word of denial! Froth and scum, thou liest.
- SLENDER. By these gloves, then, 'twas he.
- NYM. Be avis'd, sir, and pass good humours; I will say
- 'marry trap' with you, if you run the nuthook's humour on
- me; that is the very note of it.
- SLENDER. By this hat, then, he in the red face had it; for
- though I cannot remember what I did when you made me
- drunk, yet I am not altogether an ass.
- FALSTAFF. What say you, Scarlet and John?
- BARDOLPH. Why, sir, for my part, I say the gentleman had
- drunk himself out of his five sentences.
- EVANS. It is his five senses; fie, what the ignorance is!
- BARDOLPH. And being fap, sir, was, as they say, cashier'd;
- and so conclusions pass'd the careers.
- SLENDER. Ay, you spake in Latin then too; but 'tis no matter;
- I'll ne'er be drunk whilst I live again, but in honest,
- civil, godly company, for this trick. If I be drunk, I'll be
- drunk with those that have the fear of God, and not with
- drunken knaves.
- EVANS. So Got udge me, that is a virtuous mind.
- FALSTAFF. You hear all these matters deni'd, gentlemen; you
- hear it.
-
- Enter MISTRESS ANNE PAGE with wine; MISTRESS
- FORD and MISTRESS PAGE, following
-
- PAGE. Nay, daughter, carry the wine in; we'll drink within.
- Exit ANNE PAGE
- SLENDER. O heaven! this is Mistress Anne Page.
- PAGE. How now, Mistress Ford!
- FALSTAFF. Mistress Ford, by my troth, you are very well
- met; by your leave, good mistress. [Kisses her]
- PAGE. Wife, bid these gentlemen welcome. Come, we have a
- hot venison pasty to dinner; come, gentlemen, I hope we
- shall drink down all unkindness.
- Exeunt all but SHALLOW, SLENDER, and EVANS
- SLENDER. I had rather than forty shillings I had my Book of
- Songs and Sonnets here.
-
- Enter SIMPLE
-
- How, Simple! Where have you been? I must wait on
- myself, must I? You have not the Book of Riddles about you,
- have you?
- SIMPLE. Book of Riddles! Why, did you not lend it to Alice
- Shortcake upon Allhallowmas last, a fortnight afore
- Michaelmas?
- SHALLOW. Come, coz; come, coz; we stay for you. A word
- with you, coz; marry, this, coz: there is, as 'twere, a
- tender, a kind of tender, made afar off by Sir Hugh here. Do
- you understand me?
- SLENDER. Ay, sir, you shall find me reasonable; if it be so, I
- shall do that that is reason.
- SHALLOW. Nay, but understand me.
- SLENDER. So I do, sir.
- EVANS. Give ear to his motions: Master Slender, I will
- description the matter to you, if you be capacity of it.
- SLENDER. Nay, I will do as my cousin Shallow says; I pray
- you pardon me; he's a justice of peace in his country,
- simple though I stand here.
- EVANS. But that is not the question. The question is
- concerning your marriage.
- SHALLOW. Ay, there's the point, sir.
- EVANS. Marry is it; the very point of it; to Mistress Anne
- Page.
- SLENDER. Why, if it be so, I will marry her upon any
- reasonable demands.
- EVANS. But can you affection the oman? Let us command to
- know that of your mouth or of your lips; for divers philosophers
- hold that the lips is parcel of the mouth. Therefore,
- precisely, can you carry your good will to the maid?
- SHALLOW. Cousin Abraham Slender, can you love her?
- SLENDER. I hope, sir, I will do as it shall become one that
- would do reason.
- EVANS. Nay, Got's lords and his ladies! you must speak possitable,
- if you can carry her your desires towards her.
- SHALLOW. That you must. Will you, upon good dowry,
- marry her?
- SLENDER. I will do a greater thing than that upon your request,
- cousin, in any reason.
- SHALLOW. Nay, conceive me, conceive me, sweet coz; what
- I do is to pleasure you, coz. Can you love the maid?
- SLENDER. I will marry her, sir, at your request; but if there
- be no great love in the beginning, yet heaven may decrease
- it upon better acquaintance, when we are married and
- have more occasion to know one another. I hope upon
- familiarity will grow more contempt. But if you say
- 'marry her,' I will marry her; that I am freely dissolved,
- and dissolutely.
- EVANS. It is a fery discretion answer, save the fall is in the
- ord 'dissolutely': the ort is, according to our meaning,
- 'resolutely'; his meaning is good.
- SHALLOW. Ay, I think my cousin meant well.
- SLENDER. Ay, or else I would I might be hang'd, la!
-
- Re-enter ANNE PAGE
-
- SHALLOW. Here comes fair Mistress Anne. Would I were
- young for your sake, Mistress Anne!
- ANNE. The dinner is on the table; my father desires your
- worships' company.
- SHALLOW. I will wait on him, fair Mistress Anne!
- EVANS. Od's plessed will! I will not be absence at the grace.
- Exeunt SHALLOW and EVANS
- ANNE. Will't please your worship to come in, sir?
- SLENDER. No, I thank you, forsooth, heartily; I am very
- well.
- ANNE. The dinner attends you, sir.
- SLENDER. I am not a-hungry, I thank you, forsooth. Go,
- sirrah, for all you are my man, go wait upon my cousin
- Shallow. [Exit SIMPLE] A justice of peace sometime may
- be beholding to his friend for a man. I keep but three men
- and a boy yet, till my mother be dead. But what though?
- Yet I live like a poor gentleman born.
- ANNE. I may not go in without your worship; they will not
- sit till you come.
- SLENDER. I' faith, I'll eat nothing; I thank you as much as
- though I did.
- ANNE. I pray you, sir, walk in.
- SLENDER. I had rather walk here, I thank you. I bruis'd my
- shin th' other day with playing at sword and dagger with
- a master of fence-three veneys for a dish of stew'd prunes
- -and, I with my ward defending my head, he hot my shin,
- and, by my troth, I cannot abide the smell of hot meat
- since. Why do your dogs bark so? Be there bears i' th'
- town?
- ANNE. I think there are, sir; I heard them talk'd of.
- SLENDER. I love the sport well; but I shall as soon quarrel at
- it as any man in England. You are afraid, if you see the
- bear loose, are you not?
- ANNE. Ay, indeed, sir.
- SLENDER. That's meat and drink to me now. I have seen
- Sackerson loose twenty times, and have taken him by the
- chain; but I warrant you, the women have so cried and
- shriek'd at it that it pass'd; but women, indeed, cannot
- abide 'em; they are very ill-favour'd rough things.
-
- Re-enter PAGE
-
- PAGE. Come, gentle Master Slender, come; we stay for you.
- SLENDER. I'll eat nothing, I thank you, sir.
- PAGE. By cock and pie, you shall not choose, sir! Come,
- come.
- SLENDER. Nay, pray you lead the way.
- PAGE. Come on, sir.
- SLENDER. Mistress Anne, yourself shall go first.
- ANNE. Not I, sir; pray you keep on.
- SLENDER. Truly, I will not go first; truly, la! I will not do
- you that wrong.
- ANNE. I pray you, sir.
- SLENDER. I'll rather be unmannerly than troublesome. You
- do yourself wrong indeed, la! Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 2.
-
-Before PAGE'S house
-
-Enter SIR HUGH EVANS and SIMPLE
-
- EVANS. Go your ways, and ask of Doctor Caius' house which
- is the way; and there dwells one Mistress Quickly, which
- is in the manner of his nurse, or his dry nurse, or his cook,
- or his laundry, his washer, and his wringer.
- SIMPLE. Well, sir.
- EVANS. Nay, it is petter yet. Give her this letter; for it is a
- oman that altogether's acquaintance with Mistress Anne
- Page; and the letter is to desire and require her to solicit
- your master's desires to Mistress Anne Page. I pray you
- be gone. I will make an end of my dinner; there's pippins
- and cheese to come. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 3.
-
-The Garter Inn
-
-Enter FALSTAFF, HOST, BARDOLPH, NYM, PISTOL, and ROBIN
-
- FALSTAFF. Mine host of the Garter!
- HOST. What says my bully rook? Speak scholarly and
- wisely.
- FALSTAFF. Truly, mine host, I must turn away some of my
- followers.
- HOST. Discard, bully Hercules; cashier; let them wag; trot,
- trot.
- FALSTAFF. I sit at ten pounds a week.
- HOST. Thou'rt an emperor-Caesar, Keiser, and Pheazar. I
- will entertain Bardolph; he shall draw, he shall tap; said I
- well, bully Hector?
- FALSTAFF. Do so, good mine host.
- HOST. I have spoke; let him follow. [To BARDOLPH] Let me
- see thee froth and lime. I am at a word; follow. Exit HOST
- FALSTAFF. Bardolph, follow him. A tapster is a good trade;
- an old cloak makes a new jerkin; a wither'd serving-man a
- fresh tapster. Go; adieu.
- BARDOLPH. It is a life that I have desir'd; I will thrive.
- PISTOL. O base Hungarian wight! Wilt thou the spigot
- wield? Exit BARDOLPH
- NYM. He was gotten in drink. Is not the humour conceited?
- FALSTAFF. I am glad I am so acquit of this tinder-box: his
- thefts were too open; his filching was like an unskilful
- singer-he kept not time.
- NYM. The good humour is to steal at a minute's rest.
- PISTOL. 'Convey' the wise it call. 'Steal' foh! A fico for the
- phrase!
- FALSTAFF. Well, sirs, I am almost out at heels.
- PISTOL. Why, then, let kibes ensue.
- FALSTAFF. There is no remedy; I must cony-catch; I must
- shift.
- PISTOL. Young ravens must have food.
- FALSTAFF. Which of you know Ford of this town?
- PISTOL. I ken the wight; he is of substance good.
- FALSTAFF. My honest lads, I will tell you what I am about.
- PISTOL. Two yards, and more.
- FALSTAFF. No quips now, Pistol. Indeed, I am in the waist
- two yards about; but I am now about no waste; I am about
- thrift. Briefly, I do mean to make love to Ford's wife; I
- spy entertainment in her; she discourses, she carves, she
- gives the leer of invitation; I can construe the action of her
- familiar style; and the hardest voice of her behaviour, to be
- English'd rightly, is 'I am Sir John Falstaff's.'
- PISTOL. He hath studied her well, and translated her will out
- of honesty into English.
- NYM. The anchor is deep; will that humour pass?
- FALSTAFF. Now, the report goes she has all the rule of her
- husband's purse; he hath a legion of angels.
- PISTOL. As many devils entertain; and 'To her, boy,' say I.
- NYM. The humour rises; it is good; humour me the angels.
- FALSTAFF. I have writ me here a letter to her; and here
- another to Page's wife, who even now gave me good eyes
- too, examin'd my parts with most judicious oeillades;
- sometimes the beam of her view gilded my foot, sometimes my
- portly belly.
- PISTOL. Then did the sun on dunghill shine.
- NYM. I thank thee for that humour.
- FALSTAFF. O, she did so course o'er my exteriors with such
- a greedy intention that the appetite of her eye did seem to
- scorch me up like a burning-glass! Here's another letter to
- her. She bears the purse too; she is a region in Guiana, all
- gold and bounty. I will be cheaters to them both, and they
- shall be exchequers to me; they shall be my East and West
- Indies, and I will trade to them both. Go, bear thou this
- letter to Mistress Page; and thou this to Mistress Ford. We
- will thrive, lads, we will thrive.
- PISTOL. Shall I Sir Pandarus of Troy become,
- And by my side wear steel? Then Lucifer take all!
- NYM. I will run no base humour. Here, take the
- humour-letter; I will keep the haviour of reputation.
- FALSTAFF. [To ROBIN] Hold, sirrah; bear you these letters
- tightly;
- Sail like my pinnace to these golden shores.
- Rogues, hence, avaunt! vanish like hailstones, go;
- Trudge, plod away i' th' hoof; seek shelter, pack!
- Falstaff will learn the humour of the age;
- French thrift, you rogues; myself, and skirted page.
- Exeunt FALSTAFF and ROBIN
- PISTOL. Let vultures gripe thy guts! for gourd and fullam
- holds,
- And high and low beguiles the rich and poor;
- Tester I'll have in pouch when thou shalt lack,
- Base Phrygian Turk!
- NYM. I have operations in my head which be humours of
- revenge.
- PISTOL. Wilt thou revenge?
- NYM. By welkin and her star!
- PISTOL. With wit or steel?
- NYM. With both the humours, I.
- I will discuss the humour of this love to Page.
- PISTOL. And I to Ford shall eke unfold
- How Falstaff, varlet vile,
- His dove will prove, his gold will hold,
- And his soft couch defile.
- NYM. My humour shall not cool; I will incense Page to deal
- with poison; I will possess him with yellowness; for the
- revolt of mine is dangerous. That is my true humour.
- PISTOL. Thou art the Mars of malcontents; I second thee;
- troop on. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 4.
-
-DOCTOR CAIUS'S house
-
-Enter MISTRESS QUICKLY, SIMPLE, and RUGBY
-
- QUICKLY. What, John Rugby! I pray thee go to the casement
- and see if you can see my master, Master Doctor
- Caius, coming. If he do, i' faith, and find anybody in the
- house, here will be an old abusing of God's patience and
- the King's English.
- RUGBY. I'll go watch.
- QUICKLY. Go; and we'll have a posset for't soon at night, in
- faith, at the latter end of a sea-coal fire. [Exit RUGBY] An
- honest, willing, kind fellow, as ever servant shall come in
- house withal; and, I warrant you, no tell-tale nor no
- breed-bate; his worst fault is that he is given to prayer; he is
- something peevish that way; but nobody but has his fault;
- but let that pass. Peter Simple you say your name is?
- SIMPLE. Ay, for fault of a better.
- QUICKLY. And Master Slender's your master?
- SIMPLE. Ay, forsooth.
- QUICKLY. Does he not wear a great round beard, like a
- glover's paring-knife?
- SIMPLE. No, forsooth; he hath but a little whey face, with a
- little yellow beard, a Cain-colour'd beard.
- QUICKLY. A softly-sprighted man, is he not?
- SIMPLE. Ay, forsooth; but he is as tall a man of his hands as
- any is between this and his head; he hath fought with a
- warrener.
- QUICKLY. How say you? O, I should remember him. Does
- he not hold up his head, as it were, and strut in his gait?
- SIMPLE. Yes, indeed, does he.
- QUICKLY. Well, heaven send Anne Page no worse fortune!
- Tell Master Parson Evans I will do what I can for your
- master. Anne is a good girl, and I wish-
-
- Re-enter RUGBY
-
- RUGBY. Out, alas! here comes my master.
- QUICKLY. We shall all be shent. Run in here, good young
- man; go into this closet. [Shuts SIMPLE in the closet] He
- will not stay long. What, John Rugby! John! what, John,
- I say! Go, John, go inquire for my master; I doubt he be
- not well that he comes not home. [Singing]
- And down, down, adown-a, etc.
-
- Enter DOCTOR CAIUS
-
- CAIUS. Vat is you sing? I do not like des toys. Pray you, go
- and vetch me in my closet un boitier vert-a box, a green-a
- box. Do intend vat I speak? A green-a box.
- QUICKLY. Ay, forsooth, I'll fetch it you. [Aside] I am glad
- he went not in himself; if he had found the young man,
- he would have been horn-mad.
- CAIUS. Fe, fe, fe fe! ma foi, il fait fort chaud. Je m'en vais a
- la cour-la grande affaire.
- QUICKLY. Is it this, sir?
- CAIUS. Oui; mette le au mon pocket: depeche, quickly. Vere
- is dat knave, Rugby?
- QUICKLY. What, John Rugby? John!
- RUGBY. Here, sir.
- CAIUS. You are John Rugby, and you are Jack Rugby.
- Come, take-a your rapier, and come after my heel to the
- court.
- RUGBY. 'Tis ready, sir, here in the porch.
- CAIUS. By my trot, I tarry too long. Od's me! Qu'ai j'oublie?
- Dere is some simples in my closet dat I vill not for the
- varld I shall leave behind.
- QUICKLY. Ay me, he'll find the young man there, and be
- mad!
- CAIUS. O diable, diable! vat is in my closet? Villainy! larron!
- [Pulling SIMPLE out] Rugby, my rapier!
- QUICKLY. Good master, be content.
- CAIUS. Wherefore shall I be content-a?
- QUICKLY. The young man is an honest man.
- CAIUS. What shall de honest man do in my closet? Dere is
- no honest man dat shall come in my closet.
- QUICKLY. I beseech you, be not so phlegmatic; hear the
- truth of it. He came of an errand to me from Parson Hugh.
- CAIUS. Vell?
- SIMPLE. Ay, forsooth, to desire her to-
- QUICKLY. Peace, I pray you.
- CAIUS. Peace-a your tongue. Speak-a your tale.
- SIMPLE. To desire this honest gentlewoman, your maid, to
- speak a good word to Mistress Anne Page for my master,
- in the way of marriage.
- QUICKLY. This is all, indeed, la! but I'll ne'er put my finger
- in the fire, and need not.
- CAIUS. Sir Hugh send-a you? Rugby, baillez me some paper.
- Tarry you a little-a-while. [Writes]
- QUICKLY. [Aside to SIMPLE] I am glad he is so quiet; if he
- had been throughly moved, you should have heard him
- so loud and so melancholy. But notwithstanding, man, I'll
- do you your master what good I can; and the very yea and
- the no is, the French doctor, my master-I may call him
- my master, look you, for I keep his house; and I wash,
- wring, brew, bake, scour, dress meat and drink, make the
- beds, and do all myself-
- SIMPLE. [Aside to QUICKLY] 'Tis a great charge to come
- under one body's hand.
- QUICKLY. [Aside to SIMPLE] Are you avis'd o' that? You
- shall find it a great charge; and to be up early and down
- late; but notwithstanding-to tell you in your ear, I would
- have no words of it-my master himself is in love with
- Mistress Anne Page; but notwithstanding that, I know
- Anne's mind-that's neither here nor there.
- CAIUS. You jack'nape; give-a this letter to Sir Hugh; by gar,
- it is a shallenge; I will cut his troat in de park; and I will
- teach a scurvy jack-a-nape priest to meddle or make. You
- may be gone; it is not good you tarry here. By gar, I will
- cut all his two stones; by gar, he shall not have a stone
- to throw at his dog. Exit SIMPLE
- QUICKLY. Alas, he speaks but for his friend.
- CAIUS. It is no matter-a ver dat. Do not you tell-a me dat I
- shall have Anne Page for myself? By gar, I vill kill de Jack
- priest; and I have appointed mine host of de Jarteer to
- measure our weapon. By gar, I will myself have Anne
- Page.
- QUICKLY. Sir, the maid loves you, and all shall be well. We
- must give folks leave to prate. What the good-year!
- CAIUS. Rugby, come to the court with me. By gar, if I have
- not Anne Page, I shall turn your head out of my door.
- Follow my heels, Rugby. Exeunt CAIUS and RUGBY
- QUICKLY. You shall have-An fool's-head of your own. No,
- I know Anne's mind for that; never a woman in Windsor
- knows more of Anne's mind than I do; nor can do more
- than I do with her, I thank heaven.
- FENTON. [Within] Who's within there? ho!
- QUICKLY. Who's there, I trow? Come near the house, I pray
- you.
-
- Enter FENTON
-
- FENTON. How now, good woman, how dost thou?
- QUICKLY. The better that it pleases your good worship to
- ask.
- FENTON. What news? How does pretty Mistress Anne?
- QUICKLY. In truth, sir, and she is pretty, and honest, and
- gentle; and one that is your friend, I can tell you that by
- the way; I praise heaven for it.
- FENTON. Shall I do any good, think'st thou? Shall I not lose
- my suit?
- QUICKLY. Troth, sir, all is in His hands above; but
- notwithstanding, Master Fenton, I'll be sworn on a book
- she loves you. Have not your worship a wart above your eye?
- FENTON. Yes, marry, have I; what of that?
- QUICKLY. Well, thereby hangs a tale; good faith, it is such
- another Nan; but, I detest, an honest maid as ever broke
- bread. We had an hour's talk of that wart; I shall never
- laugh but in that maid's company! But, indeed, she is
- given too much to allicholy and musing; but for you-well,
- go to.
- FENTON. Well, I shall see her to-day. Hold, there's money
- for thee; let me have thy voice in my behalf. If thou seest
- her before me, commend me.
- QUICKLY. Will I? I' faith, that we will; and I will tell your
- worship more of the wart the next time we have confidence;
- and of other wooers.
- FENTON. Well, farewell; I am in great haste now.
- QUICKLY. Farewell to your worship. [Exit FENTON] Truly,
- an honest gentleman; but Anne loves him not; for I know
- Anne's mind as well as another does. Out upon 't, what
- have I forgot? Exit
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT II. SCENE 1.
-
-Before PAGE'S house
-
-Enter MISTRESS PAGE, with a letter
-
- MRS. PAGE. What! have I scap'd love-letters in the holiday-time
- of my beauty, and am I now a subject for them? Let
- me see. [Reads]
- 'Ask me no reason why I love you; for though Love use
- Reason for his precisian, he admits him not for his counsellor.
- You are not young, no more am I; go to, then, there's
- sympathy. You are merry, so am I; ha! ha! then there's
- more sympathy. You love sack, and so do I; would you
- desire better sympathy? Let it suffice thee, Mistress Page
- at the least, if the love of soldier can suffice-that I love
- thee. I will not say, Pity me: 'tis not a soldier-like phrase;
- but I say, Love me. By me,
- Thine own true knight,
- By day or night,
- Or any kind of light,
- With all his might,
- For thee to fight,
- JOHN FALSTAFF.'
- What a Herod of Jewry is this! O wicked, wicked world!
- One that is well-nigh worn to pieces with age to show
- himself a young gallant! What an unweighed behaviour
- hath this Flemish drunkard pick'd-with the devil's name!
- -out of my conversation, that he dares in this manner
- assay me? Why, he hath not been thrice in my company!
- What should I say to him? I was then frugal of my mirth.
- Heaven forgive me! Why, I'll exhibit a bill in the parliament
- for the putting down of men. How shall I be
- reveng'd on him? for reveng'd I will be, as sure as his guts
- are made of puddings.
-
- Enter MISTRESS FORD
-
- MRS. FORD. Mistress Page! trust me, I was going to your
- house.
- MRS. PAGE. And, trust me, I was coming to you. You look
- very ill.
- MRS. FORD. Nay, I'll ne'er believe that; I have to show to
- the contrary.
- MRS. PAGE. Faith, but you do, in my mind.
- MRS. FORD. Well, I do, then; yet, I say, I could show you to
- the contrary. O Mistress Page, give me some counsel.
- MRS. PAGE. What's the matter, woman?
- MRS. FORD. O woman, if it were not for one trifling respect,
- I could come to such honour!
- MRS. PAGE. Hang the trifle, woman; take the honour. What
- is it? Dispense with trifles; what is it?
- MRS. FORD. If I would but go to hell for an eternal moment
- or so, I could be knighted.
- MRS. PAGE. What? Thou liest. Sir Alice Ford! These knights
- will hack; and so thou shouldst not alter the article of thy
- gentry.
- MRS. FORD. We burn daylight. Here, read, read; perceive
- how I might be knighted. I shall think the worse of fat
- men as long as I have an eye to make difference of men's
- liking. And yet he would not swear; prais'd women's
- modesty, and gave such orderly and well-behaved reproof
- to all uncomeliness that I would have sworn his disposition
- would have gone to the truth of his words; but they do no
- more adhere and keep place together than the Hundredth
- Psalm to the tune of 'Greensleeves.' What tempest, I trow,
- threw this whale, with so many tuns of oil in his belly,
- ashore at Windsor? How shall I be revenged on him? I
- think the best way were to entertain him with hope, till
- the wicked fire of lust have melted him in his own grease.
- Did you ever hear the like?
- MRS. PAGE. Letter for letter, but that the name of Page and
- Ford differs. To thy great comfort in this mystery of ill
- opinions, here's the twin-brother of thy letter; but let thine
- inherit first, for, I protest, mine never shall. I warrant he
- hath a thousand of these letters, writ with blank space for
- different names-sure, more!-and these are of the second
- edition. He will print them, out of doubt; for he cares not
- what he puts into the press when he would put us two. I
- had rather be a giantess and lie under Mount Pelion. Well,
- I will find you twenty lascivious turtles ere one chaste
- man.
- MRS. FORD. Why, this is the very same; the very hand, the
- very words. What doth he think of us?
- MRS. PAGE. Nay, I know not; it makes me almost ready to
- wrangle with mine own honesty. I'll entertain myself like
- one that I am not acquainted withal; for, sure, unless he
- know some strain in me that I know not myself, he would
- never have boarded me in this fury.
- MRS. FORD. 'Boarding' call you it? I'll be sure to keep him
- above deck.
- MRS. PAGE. So will I; if he come under my hatches, I'll never
- to sea again. Let's be reveng'd on him; let's appoint him a
- meeting, give him a show of comfort in his suit, and lead
- him on with a fine-baited delay, till he hath pawn'd his
- horses to mine host of the Garter.
- MRS. FORD. Nay, I will consent to act any villainy against
- him that may not sully the chariness of our honesty. O
- that my husband saw this letter! It would give eternal food
- to his jealousy.
- MRS. PAGE. Why, look where he comes; and my good man
- too; he's as far from jealousy as I am from giving him
- cause; and that, I hope, is an unmeasurable distance.
- MRS. FORD. You are the happier woman.
- MRS. PAGE. Let's consult together against this greasy knight.
- Come hither. [They retire]
-
- Enter FORD with PISTOL, and PAGE with Nym
-
- FORD. Well, I hope it be not so.
- PISTOL. Hope is a curtal dog in some affairs.
- Sir John affects thy wife.
- FORD. Why, sir, my wife is not young.
- PISTOL. He woos both high and low, both rich and poor,
- Both young and old, one with another, Ford;
- He loves the gallimaufry. Ford, perpend.
- FORD. Love my wife!
- PISTOL. With liver burning hot. Prevent, or go thou,
- Like Sir Actaeon he, with Ringwood at thy heels.
- O, odious is the name!
- FORD. What name, sir?
- PISTOL. The horn, I say. Farewell.
- Take heed, have open eye, for thieves do foot by night;
- Take heed, ere summer comes, or cuckoo birds do sing.
- Away, Sir Corporal Nym.
- Believe it, Page; he speaks sense. Exit PISTOL
- FORD. [Aside] I will be patient; I will find out this.
- NYM. [To PAGE] And this is true; I like not the humour of
- lying. He hath wronged me in some humours; I should
- have borne the humour'd letter to her; but I have a sword,
- and it shall bite upon my necessity. He loves your wife;
- there's the short and the long.
- My name is Corporal Nym; I speak, and I avouch;
- 'Tis true. My name is Nym, and Falstaff loves your wife.
- Adieu! I love not the humour of bread and cheese; and
- there's the humour of it. Adieu. Exit Nym
- PAGE. 'The humour of it,' quoth 'a! Here's a fellow frights
- English out of his wits.
- FORD. I will seek out Falstaff.
- PAGE. I never heard such a drawling, affecting rogue.
- FORD. If I do find it-well.
- PAGE. I will not believe such a Cataian though the priest o'
- th' town commended him for a true man.
- FORD. 'Twas a good sensible fellow. Well.
-
- MISTRESS PAGE and MISTRESS FORD come forward
-
- PAGE. How now, Meg!
- MRS. PAGE. Whither go you, George? Hark you.
- MRS. FORD. How now, sweet Frank, why art thou melancholy?
- FORD. I melancholy! I am not melancholy. Get you home;
- go.
- MRS. FORD. Faith, thou hast some crotchets in thy head now.
- Will you go, Mistress Page?
-
- Enter MISTRESS QUICKLY
-
- MRS. PAGE. Have with you. You'll come to dinner, George?
- [Aside to MRS. FORD] Look who comes yonder; she shall
- be our messenger to this paltry knight.
- MRS. FORD. [Aside to MRS. PAGE] Trust me, I thought on
- her; she'll fit it.
- MRS. PAGE. You are come to see my daughter Anne?
- QUICKLY. Ay, forsooth; and, I pray, how does good Mistress Anne?
- MRS. PAGE. Go in with us and see; we have an hour's talk
- with you. Exeunt MISTRESS PAGE, MISTRESS FORD, and
- MISTRESS QUICKLY
- PAGE. How now, Master Ford!
- FORD. You heard what this knave told me, did you not?
- PAGE. Yes; and you heard what the other told me?
- FORD. Do you think there is truth in them?
- PAGE. Hang 'em, slaves! I do not think the knight would offer it;
- but these that accuse him in his intent towards our
- wives are a yoke of his discarded men; very rogues, now
- they be out of service.
- FORD. Were they his men?
- PAGE. Marry, were they.
- FORD. I like it never the better for that. Does he lie at the
- Garter?
- PAGE. Ay, marry, does he. If he should intend this voyage
- toward my wife, I would turn her loose to him; and what
- he gets more of her than sharp words, let it lie on my head.
- FORD. I do not misdoubt my wife; but I would be loath to
- turn them together. A man may be too confident. I would
- have nothing lie on my head. I cannot be thus satisfied.
-
- Enter HOST
-
- PAGE. Look where my ranting host of the Garter comes.
- There is either liquor in his pate or money in his purse
- when he looks so merrily. How now, mine host!
- HOST. How now, bully rook! Thou'rt a gentleman. [To
- SHALLOW following] Cavaleiro Justice, I say.
-
- Enter SHALLOW
-
- SHALLOW. I follow, mine host, I follow. Good even and
- twenty, good Master Page! Master Page, will you go with
- us? We have sport in hand.
- HOST. Tell him, Cavaleiro Justice; tell him, bully rook.
- SHALLOW. Sir, there is a fray to be fought between Sir Hugh
- the Welsh priest and Caius the French doctor.
- FORD. Good mine host o' th' Garter, a word with you.
- HOST. What say'st thou, my bully rook? [They go aside]
- SHALLOW. [To PAGE] Will you go with us to behold it? My
- merry host hath had the measuring of their weapons; and,
- I think, hath appointed them contrary places; for, believe
- me, I hear the parson is no jester. Hark, I will tell you
- what our sport shall be. [They converse apart]
- HOST. Hast thou no suit against my knight, my guest-cavaleiro.
- FORD. None, I protest; but I'll give you a pottle of burnt
- sack to give me recourse to him, and tell him my name is
- Brook-only for a jest.
- HOST. My hand, bully; thou shalt have egress and regress-
- said I well?-and thy name shall be Brook. It is a merry
- knight. Will you go, Mynheers?
- SHALLOW. Have with you, mine host.
- PAGE. I have heard the Frenchman hath good skill in his
- rapier.
- SHALLOW. Tut, sir, I could have told you more. In these
- times you stand on distance, your passes, stoccadoes, and
- I know not what. 'Tis the heart, Master Page; 'tis here,
- 'tis here. I have seen the time with my long sword I would
- have made you four tall fellows skip like rats.
- HOST. Here, boys, here, here! Shall we wag?
- PAGE. Have with you. I had rather hear them scold than
- fight. Exeunt all but FORD
- FORD. Though Page be a secure fool, and stands so firmly on
- his wife's frailty, yet I cannot put off my opinion so
- easily. She was in his company at Page's house, and what
- they made there I know not. Well, I will look further into
- 't, and I have a disguise to sound Falstaff. If I find her
- honest, I lose not my labour; if she be otherwise, 'tis labour
- well bestowed. Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 2.
-
-A room in the Garter Inn
-
-Enter FALSTAFF and PISTOL
-
- FALSTAFF. I will not lend thee a penny.
- PISTOL. I will retort the sum in equipage.
- FALSTAFF. Not a penny.
- PISTOL. Why, then the world's mine oyster. Which I with
- sword will open.
- FALSTAFF. Not a penny. I have been content, sir, you should
- lay my countenance to pawn. I have grated upon my good
- friends for three reprieves for you and your coach-fellow,
- Nym; or else you had look'd through the grate, like a
- geminy of baboons. I am damn'd in hell for swearing to
- gentlemen my friends you were good soldiers and tall fellows;
- and when Mistress Bridget lost the handle of her fan,
- I took 't upon mine honour thou hadst it not.
- PISTOL. Didst not thou share? Hadst thou not fifteen pence?
- FALSTAFF. Reason, you rogue, reason. Think'st thou I'll
- endanger my soul gratis? At a word, hang no more about me,
- I am no gibbet for you. Go-a short knife and a throng!-
- to your manor of Pickt-hatch; go. You'll not bear a letter
- for me, you rogue! You stand upon your honour! Why,
- thou unconfinable baseness, it is as much as I can do to
- keep the terms of my honour precise. I, I, I myself
- sometimes, leaving the fear of God on the left hand, and hiding
- mine honour in my necessity, am fain to shuffle, to hedge,
- and to lurch; and yet you, rogue, will ensconce your rags,
- your cat-a-mountain looks, your red-lattice phrases, and
- your bold-beating oaths, under the shelter of your honour!
- You will not do it, you!
- PISTOL. I do relent; what would thou more of man?
-
- Enter ROBIN
-
- ROBIN. Sir, here's a woman would speak with you.
- FALSTAFF. Let her approach.
-
- Enter MISTRESS QUICKLY
-
- QUICKLY. Give your worship good morrow.
- FALSTAFF. Good morrow, good wife.
- QUICKLY. Not so, an't please your worship.
- FALSTAFF. Good maid, then.
- QUICKLY. I'll be sworn;
- As my mother was, the first hour I was born.
- FALSTAFF. I do believe the swearer. What with me?
- QUICKLY. Shall I vouchsafe your worship a word or two?
- FALSTAFF. Two thousand, fair woman; and I'll vouchsafe
- thee the hearing.
- QUICKLY. There is one Mistress Ford, sir-I pray, come a little
- nearer this ways. I myself dwell with Master Doctor
- Caius.
- FALSTAFF. Well, on: Mistress Ford, you say-
- QUICKLY. Your worship says very true. I pray your worship
- come a little nearer this ways.
- FALSTAFF. I warrant thee nobody hears-mine own people,
- mine own people.
- QUICKLY. Are they so? God bless them, and make them his
- servants!
- FALSTAFF. Well; Mistress Ford, what of her?
- QUICKLY. Why, sir, she's a good creature. Lord, Lord, your
- worship's a wanton! Well, heaven forgive you, and all of
- us, I pray.
- FALSTAFF. Mistress Ford; come, Mistress Ford-
- QUICKLY. Marry, this is the short and the long of it: you
- have brought her into such a canaries as 'tis wonderful.
- The best courtier of them all, when the court lay at Windsor,
- could never have brought her to such a canary. Yet
- there has been knights, and lords, and gentlemen, with
- their coaches; I warrant you, coach after coach, letter after
- letter, gift after gift; smelling so sweetly, all musk, and so
- rushling, I warrant you, in silk and gold; and in such alligant
- terms; and in such wine and sugar of the best and the
- fairest, that would have won any woman's heart; and I
- warrant you, they could never get an eye-wink of her.
- I had myself twenty angels given me this morning; but I
- defy all angels, in any such sort, as they say, but in the
- way of honesty; and, I warrant you, they could never get
- her so much as sip on a cup with the proudest of them all;
- and yet there has been earls, nay, which is more,
- pensioners; but, I warrant you, all is one with her.
- FALSTAFF. But what says she to me? Be brief, my good she-
- Mercury.
- QUICKLY. Marry, she hath receiv'd your letter; for the
- which she thanks you a thousand times; and she gives you
- to notify that her husband will be absence from his house
- between ten and eleven.
- FALSTAFF. Ten and eleven?
- QUICKLY. Ay, forsooth; and then you may come and see
- the picture, she says, that you wot of. Master Ford, her
- husband, will be from home. Alas, the sweet woman leads
- an ill life with him! He's a very jealousy man; she leads a
- very frampold life with him, good heart.
- FALSTAFF. Ten and eleven. Woman, commend me to her; I
- will not fail her.
- QUICKLY. Why, you say well. But I have another messenger
- to your worship. Mistress Page hath her hearty commendations
- to you too; and let me tell you in your ear, she's as
- fartuous a civil modest wife, and one, I tell you, that will
- not miss you morning nor evening prayer, as any is in
- Windsor, whoe'er be the other; and she bade me tell your
- worship that her husband is seldom from home, but she
- hopes there will come a time. I never knew a woman so
- dote upon a man: surely I think you have charms, la! Yes,
- in truth.
- FALSTAFF. Not I, I assure thee; setting the attraction of my
- good parts aside, I have no other charms.
- QUICKLY. Blessing on your heart for 't!
- FALSTAFF. But, I pray thee, tell me this: has Ford's wife and
- Page's wife acquainted each other how they love me?
- QUICKLY. That were a jest indeed! They have not so little
- grace, I hope-that were a trick indeed! But Mistress Page
- would desire you to send her your little page of all loves.
- Her husband has a marvellous infection to the little page;
- and truly Master Page is an honest man. Never a wife in
- Windsor leads a better life than she does; do what she will,
- say what she will, take all, pay all, go to bed when she
- list, rise when she list, all is as she will; and truly she
- deserves it; for if there be a kind woman in Windsor, she
- is one. You must send her your page; no remedy.
- FALSTAFF. Why, I will.
- QUICKLY. Nay, but do so then; and, look you, he may come
- and go between you both; and in any case have a
- nay-word, that you may know one another's mind, and the boy
- never need to understand any thing; for 'tis not good that
- children should know any wickedness. Old folks, you
- know, have discretion, as they say, and know the world.
- FALSTAFF. Fare thee well; commend me to them both.
- There's my purse; I am yet thy debtor. Boy, go along with
- this woman. [Exeunt QUICKLY and ROBIN] This news
- distracts me.
- PISTOL. [Aside] This punk is one of Cupid's carriers;
- Clap on more sails; pursue; up with your fights;
- Give fire; she is my prize, or ocean whelm them all! Exit
- FALSTAFF. Say'st thou so, old Jack; go thy ways; I'll make
- more of thy old body than I have done. Will they yet look
- after thee? Wilt thou, after the expense of so much money,
- be now a gainer? Good body, I thank thee. Let them say
- 'tis grossly done; so it be fairly done, no matter.
-
- Enter BARDOLPH
-
- BARDOLPH. Sir John, there's one Master Brook below would
- fain speak with you, and be acquainted with you; and hath
- sent your worship a moming's draught of sack.
- FALSTAFF. Brook is his name?
- BARDOLPH. Ay, sir.
- FALSTAFF. Call him in. [Exit BARDOLPH] Such Brooks are
- welcome to me, that o'erflows such liquor. Ah, ha! Mistress
- Ford and Mistress Page, have I encompass'd you? Go to;
- via!
-
- Re-enter BARDOLPH, with FORD disguised
-
- FORD. Bless you, sir!
- FALSTAFF. And you, sir! Would you speak with me?
- FORD. I make bold to press with so little preparation upon
- you.
- FALSTAFF. You're welcome. What's your will? Give us leave,
- drawer. Exit BARDOLPH
- FORD. Sir, I am a gentleman that have spent much; my name
- is Brook.
- FALSTAFF. Good Master Brook, I desire more acquaintance
- of you.
- FORD. Good Sir John, I sue for yours-not to charge you; for I
- must let you understand I think myself in better plight for
- a lender than you are; the which hath something
- embold'ned me to this unseason'd intrusion; for they say, if
- money go before, all ways do lie open.
- FALSTAFF. Money is a good soldier, sir, and will on.
- FORD. Troth, and I have a bag of money here troubles me; if
- you will help to bear it, Sir John, take all, or half, for easing
- me of the carriage.
- FALSTAFF. Sir, I know not how I may deserve to be your
- porter.
- FORD. I will tell you, sir, if you will give me the hearing.
- FALSTAFF. Speak, good Master Brook; I shall be glad to be
- your servant.
- FORD. Sir, I hear you are a scholar-I will be brief with you
- -and you have been a man long known to me, though I
- had never so good means as desire to make myself acquainted
- with you. I shall discover a thing to you, wherein
- I must very much lay open mine own imperfection; but,
- good Sir John, as you have one eye upon my follies, as you
- hear them unfolded, turn another into the register of your
- own, that I may pass with a reproof the easier, sith you
- yourself know how easy is it to be such an offender.
- FALSTAFF. Very well, sir; proceed.
- FORD. There is a gentlewoman in this town, her husband's
- name is Ford.
- FALSTAFF. Well, sir.
- FORD. I have long lov'd her, and, I protest to you, bestowed
- much on her; followed her with a doting observance;
- engross'd opportunities to meet her; fee'd every slight occasion
- that could but niggardly give me sight of her; not
- only bought many presents to give her, but have given
- largely to many to know what she would have given;
- briefly, I have pursu'd her as love hath pursued me; which
- hath been on the wing of all occasions. But whatsoever I
- have merited, either in my mind or in my means, meed, I
- am sure, I have received none, unless experience be a jewel;
- that I have purchased at an infinite rate, and that hath
- taught me to say this:
- 'Love like a shadow flies when substance love pursues;
- Pursuing that that flies, and flying what pursues.'
- FALSTAFF. Have you receiv'd no promise of satisfaction at
- her hands?
- FORD. Never.
- FALSTAFF. Have you importun'd her to such a purpose?
- FORD. Never.
- FALSTAFF. Of what quality was your love, then?
- FORD. Like a fair house built on another man's ground; so
- that I have lost my edifice by mistaking the place where
- erected it.
- FALSTAFF. To what purpose have you unfolded this to me?
- FORD. When I have told you that, I have told you all. Some
- say that though she appear honest to me, yet in other
- places she enlargeth her mirth so far that there is shrewd
- construction made of her. Now, Sir John, here is the heart
- of my purpose: you are a gentleman of excellent
- breeding, admirable discourse, of great admittance, authentic in
- your place and person, generally allow'd for your many
- war-like, courtlike, and learned preparations.
- FALSTAFF. O, sir!
- FORD. Believe it, for you know it. There is money; spend it,
- spend it; spend more; spend all I have; only give me so
- much of your time in exchange of it as to lay an amiable
- siege to the honesty of this Ford's wife; use your art of
- wooing, win her to consent to you; if any man may, you
- may as soon as any.
- FALSTAFF. Would it apply well to the vehemency of your
- affection, that I should win what you would enjoy?
- Methinks you prescribe to yourself very preposterously.
- FORD. O, understand my drift. She dwells so securely on the
- excellency of her honour that the folly of my soul dares
- not present itself; she is too bright to be look'd against.
- Now, could I come to her with any detection in my hand,
- my desires had instance and argument to commend themselves;
- I could drive her then from the ward of her purity,
- her reputation, her marriage vow, and a thousand other her
- defences, which now are too too strongly embattl'd against
- me. What say you to't, Sir John?
- FALSTAFF. Master Brook, I will first make bold with your
- money; next, give me your hand; and last, as I am a gentleman,
- you shall, if you will, enjoy Ford's wife.
- FORD. O good sir!
- FALSTAFF. I say you shall.
- FORD. Want no money, Sir John; you shall want none.
- FALSTAFF. Want no Mistress Ford, Master Brook; you shall
- want none. I shall be with her, I may tell you, by her own
- appointment; even as you came in to me her assistant, or
- go-between, parted from me; I say I shall be with her between
- ten and eleven; for at that time the jealous rascally
- knave, her husband, will be forth. Come you to me at
- night; you shall know how I speed.
- FORD. I am blest in your acquaintance. Do you know Ford,
- Sir?
- FALSTAFF. Hang him, poor cuckoldly knave! I know him
- not; yet I wrong him to call him poor; they say the
- jealous wittolly knave hath masses of money; for the which
- his wife seems to me well-favour'd. I will use her as the
- key of the cuckoldly rogue's coffer; and there's my harvest-home.
- FORD. I would you knew Ford, sir, that you might avoid him
- if you saw him.
- FALSTAFF. Hang him, mechanical salt-butter rogue! I will
- stare him out of his wits; I will awe him with my cudgel;
- it shall hang like a meteor o'er the cuckold's horns. Master
- Brook, thou shalt know I will predominate over the
- peasant, and thou shalt lie with his wife. Come to me soon at
- night. Ford's a knave, and I will aggravate his style; thou,
- Master Brook, shalt know him for knave and cuckold.
- Come to me soon at night. Exit
- FORD. What a damn'd Epicurean rascal is this! My heart is
- ready to crack with impatience. Who says this is improvident
- jealousy? My wife hath sent to him; the hour is fix'd;
- the match is made. Would any man have thought this? See
- the hell of having a false woman! My bed shall be abus'd,
- my coffers ransack'd, my reputation gnawn at; and I shall
- not only receive this villainous wrong, but stand under the
- adoption of abominable terms, and by him that does me
- this wrong. Terms! names! Amaimon sounds well; Lucifer,
- well; Barbason, well; yet they are devils' additions, the names
- of fiends. But cuckold! Wittol! Cuckold! the devil himself
- hath not such a name. Page is an ass, a secure ass; he will trust
- his wife; he will not be jealous; I will rather trust a Fleming
- with my butter, Parson Hugh the Welshman with my
- cheese, an Irishman with my aqua-vitae bottle, or a thief to
- walk my ambling gelding, than my wife with herself. Then
- she plots, then she ruminates, then she devises; and what
- they think in their hearts they may effect, they will break
- their hearts but they will effect. God be prais'd for my
- jealousy! Eleven o'clock the hour. I will prevent this, detect
- my wife, be reveng'd on Falstaff, and laugh at Page.
- I will about it; better three hours too soon than a minute
- too late. Fie, fie, fie! cuckold! cuckold! cuckold! Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 3.
-
-A field near Windsor
-
-Enter CAIUS and RUGBY
-
- CAIUS. Jack Rugby!
- RUGBY. Sir?
- CAIUS. Vat is de clock, Jack?
- RUGBY. 'Tis past the hour, sir, that Sir Hugh promis'd to
- meet.
- CAIUS. By gar, he has save his soul dat he is no come; he has
- pray his Pible well dat he is no come; by gar, Jack Rugby,
- he is dead already, if he be come.
- RUGBY. He is wise, sir; he knew your worship would kill
- him if he came.
- CAIUS. By gar, de herring is no dead so as I vill kill him. Take
- your rapier, Jack; I vill tell you how I vill kill him.
- RUGBY. Alas, sir, I cannot fence!
- CAIUS. Villainy, take your rapier.
- RUGBY. Forbear; here's company.
-
- Enter HOST, SHALLOW, SLENDER, and PAGE
-
- HOST. Bless thee, bully doctor!
- SHALLOW. Save you, Master Doctor Caius!
- PAGE. Now, good Master Doctor!
- SLENDER. Give you good morrow, sir.
- CAIUS. Vat be all you, one, two, tree, four, come for?
- HOST. To see thee fight, to see thee foin, to see thee traverse;
- to see thee here, to see thee there; to see thee pass thy
- punto, thy stock, thy reverse, thy distance, thy montant.
- Is he dead, my Ethiopian? Is he dead, my Francisco? Ha,
- bully! What says my Aesculapius? my Galen? my heart
- of elder? Ha! is he dead, bully stale? Is he dead?
- CAIUS. By gar, he is de coward Jack priest of de world; he is
- not show his face.
- HOST. Thou art a Castalion-King-Urinal. Hector of Greece,
- my boy!
- CAIUS. I pray you, bear witness that me have stay six or
- seven, two tree hours for him, and he is no come.
- SHALLOW. He is the wiser man, Master Doctor: he is a curer
- of souls, and you a curer of bodies; if you should fight,
- you go against the hair of your professions. Is it not true,
- Master Page?
- PAGE. Master Shallow, you have yourself been a great fighter,
- though now a man of peace.
- SHALLOW. Bodykins, Master Page, though I now be old, and
- of the peace, if I see a sword out, my finger itches to make
- one. Though we are justices, and doctors, and churchmen,
- Master Page, we have some salt of our youth in us; we are
- the sons of women, Master Page.
- PAGE. 'Tis true, Master Shallow.
- SHALLOW. It will be found so, Master Page. Master Doctor
- CAIUS, I come to fetch you home. I am sworn of the peace;
- you have show'd yourself a wise physician, and Sir Hugh
- hath shown himself a wise and patient churchman. You
- must go with me, Master Doctor.
- HOST. Pardon, Guest Justice. A word, Mounseur Mockwater.
- CAIUS. Mock-vater! Vat is dat?
- HOST. Mockwater, in our English tongue, is valour, bully.
- CAIUS. By gar, then I have as much mockvater as de Englishman.
- Scurvy jack-dog priest! By gar, me vill cut his ears.
- HOST. He will clapper-claw thee tightly, bully.
- CAIUS. Clapper-de-claw! Vat is dat?
- HOST. That is, he will make thee amends.
- CAIUS. By gar, me do look he shall clapper-de-claw me; for,
- by gar, me vill have it.
- HOST. And I will provoke him to't, or let him wag.
- CAIUS. Me tank you for dat.
- HOST. And, moreover, bully-but first: [Aside to the others]
- Master Guest, and Master Page, and eke Cavaleiro Slender,
- go you through the town to Frogmore.
- PAGE. [Aside] Sir Hugh is there, is he?
- HOST. [Aside] He is there. See what humour he is in; and
- I will bring the doctor about by the fields. Will it do well?
- SHALLOW. [Aside] We will do it.
- PAGE, SHALLOW, and SLENDER. Adieu, good Master Doctor.
- Exeunt PAGE, SHALLOW, and SLENDER
- CAIUS. By gar, me vill kill de priest; for he speak for a jack-
- an-ape to Anne Page.
- HOST. Let him die. Sheathe thy impatience; throw cold water
- on thy choler; go about the fields with me through Frogmore;
- I will bring thee where Mistress Anne Page is, at a a
- farm-house, a-feasting; and thou shalt woo her. Cried
- game! Said I well?
- CAIUS. By gar, me dank you vor dat; by gar, I love you; and
- I shall procure-a you de good guest, de earl, de knight, de
- lords, de gentlemen, my patients.
- HOST. For the which I will be thy adversary toward Anne
- Page. Said I well?
- CAIUS. By gar, 'tis good; vell said.
- HOST. Let us wag, then.
- CAIUS. Come at my heels, Jack Rugby. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-ACT III SCENE 1.
-
-A field near Frogmore
-
-Enter SIR HUGH EVANS and SIMPLE
-
- EVANS. I pray you now, good Master Slender's serving-man,
- and friend Simple by your name, which way have you
- look'd for Master Caius, that calls himself Doctor of
- Physic?
- SIMPLE. Marry, sir, the pittie-ward, the park-ward; every
- way; old Windsor way, and every way but the town way.
- EVANS. I most fehemently desire you you will also look that
- way.
- SIMPLE. I will, Sir. Exit
- EVANS. Pless my soul, how full of chollors I am, and trempling
- of mind! I shall be glad if he have deceived me. How
- melancholies I am! I will knog his urinals about his knave's
- costard when I have goot opportunities for the ork. Pless
- my soul! [Sings]
- To shallow rivers, to whose falls
- Melodious birds sings madrigals;
- There will we make our peds of roses,
- And a thousand fragrant posies.
- To shallow-
- Mercy on me! I have a great dispositions to cry. [Sings]
- Melodious birds sing madrigals-
- Whenas I sat in Pabylon-
- And a thousand vagram posies.
- To shallow, etc.
-
- Re-enter SIMPLE
-
- SIMPLE. Yonder he is, coming this way, Sir Hugh.
- EVANS. He's welcome. [Sings]
- To shallow rivers, to whose falls-
- Heaven prosper the right! What weapons is he?
- SIMPLE. No weapons, sir. There comes my master, Master
- Shallow, and another gentleman, from Frogmore, over the
- stile, this way.
- EVANS. Pray you give me my gown; or else keep it in your
- arms. [Takes out a book]
-
- Enter PAGE, SHALLOW, and SLENDER
-
- SHALLOW. How now, Master Parson! Good morrow, good
- Sir Hugh. Keep a gamester from the dice, and a good student
- from his book, and it is wonderful.
- SLENDER. [Aside] Ah, sweet Anne Page!
- PAGE. Save you, good Sir Hugh!
- EVANS. Pless you from his mercy sake, all of you!
- SHALLOW. What, the sword and the word! Do you study
- them both, Master Parson?
- PAGE. And youthful still, in your doublet and hose, this raw
- rheumatic day!
- EVANS. There is reasons and causes for it.
- PAGE. We are come to you to do a good office, Master
- Parson.
- EVANS. Fery well; what is it?
- PAGE. Yonder is a most reverend gentleman, who, belike having
- received wrong by some person, is at most odds with
- his own gravity and patience that ever you saw.
- SHALLOW. I have lived fourscore years and upward; I never
- heard a man of his place, gravity, and learning, so wide of
- his own respect.
- EVANS. What is he?
- PAGE. I think you know him: Master Doctor Caius, the
- renowned French physician.
- EVANS. Got's will and his passion of my heart! I had as lief
- you would tell me of a mess of porridge.
- PAGE. Why?
- EVANS. He has no more knowledge in Hibocrates and
- Galen, and he is a knave besides-a cowardly knave as you
- would desires to be acquainted withal.
- PAGE. I warrant you, he's the man should fight with him.
- SLENDER. [Aside] O sweet Anne Page!
- SHALLOW. It appears so, by his weapons. Keep them asunder;
- here comes Doctor Caius.
-
- Enter HOST, CAIUS, and RUGBY
-
- PAGE. Nay, good Master Parson, keep in your weapon.
- SHALLOW. So do you, good Master Doctor.
- HOST. Disarm them, and let them question; let them keep
- their limbs whole and hack our English.
- CAIUS. I pray you, let-a me speak a word with your ear.
- Verefore will you not meet-a me?
- EVANS. [Aside to CAIUS] Pray you use your patience; in
- good time.
- CAIUS. By gar, you are de coward, de Jack dog, John ape.
- EVANS. [Aside to CAIUS] Pray you, let us not be
- laughing-stocks to other men's humours; I desire you in
- friendship, and I will one way or other make you amends.
- [Aloud] I will knog your urinals about your knave's cogscomb
- for missing your meetings and appointments.
- CAIUS. Diable! Jack Rugby-mine Host de Jarteer-have I
- not stay for him to kill him? Have I not, at de place I did
- appoint?
- EVANS. As I am a Christians soul, now, look you, this is the
- place appointed. I'll be judgment by mine host of the
- Garter.
- HOST. Peace, I say, Gallia and Gaul, French and Welsh,
- soul-curer and body-curer.
- CAIUS. Ay, dat is very good! excellent!
- HOST. Peace, I say. Hear mine host of the Garter. Am I
- politic? am I subtle? am I a Machiavel? Shall I lose my
- doctor? No; he gives me the potions and the motions. Shall I
- lose my parson, my priest, my Sir Hugh? No; he gives me
- the proverbs and the noverbs. Give me thy hand, terrestrial;
- so. Give me thy hand, celestial; so. Boys of art, I have
- deceiv'd you both; I have directed you to wrong places;
- your hearts are mighty, your skins are whole, and let burnt
- sack be the issue. Come, lay their swords to pawn. Follow
- me, lads of peace; follow, follow, follow.
- SHALLOW. Trust me, a mad host. Follow, gentlemen, follow.
- SLENDER. [Aside] O sweet Anne Page!
- Exeunt all but CAIUS and EVANS
- CAIUS. Ha, do I perceive dat? Have you make-a de sot of us,
- ha, ha?
- EVANS. This is well; he has made us his vlouting-stog. I
- desire you that we may be friends; and let us knog our prains
- together to be revenge on this same scall, scurvy, cogging
- companion, the host of the Garter.
- CAIUS. By gar, with all my heart. He promise to bring me
- where is Anne Page; by gar, he deceive me too.
- EVANS. Well, I will smite his noddles. Pray you follow.
- Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-SCENE 2.
-
-The street in Windsor
-
-Enter MISTRESS PAGE and ROBIN
-
- MRS. PAGE. Nay, keep your way, little gallant; you were
- wont to be a follower, but now you are a leader. Whether
- had you rather lead mine eyes, or eye your master's heels?
- ROBIN. I had rather, forsooth, go before you like a man than
- follow him like a dwarf.
- MRS. PAGE. O, you are a flattering boy; now I see you'll be a
- courtier.
-
- Enter FORD
-
- FORD. Well met, Mistress Page. Whither go you?
- MRS. PAGE. Truly, sir, to see your wife. Is she at home?
- FORD. Ay; and as idle as she may hang together, for want of
- company. I think, if your husbands were dead, you two
- would marry.
- MRS. PAGE. Be sure of that-two other husbands.
- FORD. Where had you this pretty weathercock?
- MRS. PAGE. I cannot tell what the dickens his name is my
- husband had him of. What do you call your knight's
- name, sirrah?
- ROBIN. Sir John Falstaff.
- FORD. Sir John Falstaff!
- MRS. PAGE. He, he; I can never hit on's name. There is such
- a league between my good man and he! Is your wife at
- home indeed?
- FORD. Indeed she is.
- MRS. PAGE. By your leave, sir. I am sick till I see her.
- Exeunt MRS. PAGE and ROBIN
- FORD. Has Page any brains? Hath he any eyes? Hath he any
- thinking? Sure, they sleep; he hath no use of them. Why,
- this boy will carry a letter twenty mile as easy as a cannon
- will shoot pointblank twelve score. He pieces out his wife's
- inclination; he gives her folly motion and advantage; and
- now she's going to my wife, and Falstaff's boy with her. A
- man may hear this show'r sing in the wind. And Falstaff's
- boy with her! Good plots! They are laid; and our revolted
- wives share damnation together. Well; I will take him,
- then torture my wife, pluck the borrowed veil of modesty
- from the so seeming Mistress Page, divulge Page himself
- for a secure and wilful Actaeon; and to these violent proceedings
- all my neighbours shall cry aim. [Clock strikes]
- The clock gives me my cue, and my assurance bids me
- search; there I shall find Falstaff. I shall be rather prais'd
- for this than mock'd; for it is as positive as the earth is firm
- that Falstaff is there. I will go.
-
- Enter PAGE, SHALLOW, SLENDER, HOST, SIR HUGH EVANS,
- CAIUS, and RUGBY
-
- SHALLOW, PAGE, &C. Well met, Master Ford.
- FORD. Trust me, a good knot; I have good cheer at home,
- and I pray you all go with me.
- SHALLOW. I must excuse myself, Master Ford.
- SLENDER. And so must I, sir; we have appointed to dine with
- Mistress Anne, and I would not break with her for more
- money than I'll speak of.
- SHALLOW. We have linger'd about a match between Anne
- Page and my cousin Slender, and this day we shall have
- our answer.
- SLENDER. I hope I have your good will, father Page.
- PAGE. You have, Master Slender; I stand wholly for you. But
- my wife, Master Doctor, is for you altogether.
- CAIUS. Ay, be-gar; and de maid is love-a me; my nursh-a
- Quickly tell me so mush.
- HOST. What say you to young Master Fenton? He capers,
- he dances, he has eyes of youth, he writes verses, he speaks
- holiday, he smells April and May; he will carry 't, he will
- carry 't; 'tis in his buttons; he will carry 't.
- PAGE. Not by my consent, I promise you. The gentleman is
- of no having: he kept company with the wild Prince and
- Poins; he is of too high a region, he knows too much. No,
- he shall not knit a knot in his fortunes with the finger of
- my substance; if he take her, let him take her simply; the
- wealth I have waits on my consent, and my consent goes
- not that way.
- FORD. I beseech you, heartily, some of you go home with me
- to dinner: besides your cheer, you shall have sport; I will
- show you a monster. Master Doctor, you shall go; so shall
- you, Master Page; and you, Sir Hugh.
- SHALLOW. Well, fare you well; we shall have the freer
- wooing at Master Page's. Exeunt SHALLOW and SLENDER
- CAIUS. Go home, John Rugby; I come anon. Exit RUGBY
- HOST. Farewell, my hearts; I will to my honest knight
- Falstaff, and drink canary with him. Exit HOST
- FORD. [Aside] I think I shall drink in pipe-wine first with
- him. I'll make him dance. Will you go, gentles?
- ALL. Have with you to see this monster. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-SCENE 3.
-
-FORD'S house
-
-Enter MISTRESS FORD and MISTRESS PAGE
-
- MRS. FORD. What, John! what, Robert!
- MRS. PAGE. Quickly, quickly! Is the buck-basket-
- MRS. FORD. I warrant. What, Robin, I say!
-
- Enter SERVANTS with a basket
-
- MRS. PAGE. Come, come, come.
- MRS. FORD. Here, set it down.
- MRS. PAGE. Give your men the charge; we must be brief.
- MRS. FORD. Marry, as I told you before, John and Robert, be
- ready here hard by in the brew-house; and when I suddenly
- call you, come forth, and, without any pause or
- staggering, take this basket on your shoulders. That done,
- trudge with it in all haste, and carry it among the whitsters
- in Datchet Mead, and there empty it in the muddy ditch
- close by the Thames side.
- Mrs. PAGE. You will do it?
- MRS. FORD. I ha' told them over and over; they lack no
- direction. Be gone, and come when you are call'd.
- Exeunt SERVANTS
- MRS. PAGE. Here comes little Robin.
-
- Enter ROBIN
-
- MRS. FORD. How now, my eyas-musket, what news with
- you?
- ROBIN. My Master Sir John is come in at your back-door,
- Mistress Ford, and requests your company.
- MRS. PAGE. You little Jack-a-Lent, have you been true to us?
- ROBIN. Ay, I'll be sworn. My master knows not of your
- being here, and hath threat'ned to put me into everlasting
- liberty, if I tell you of it; for he swears he'll turn me away.
- MRS. PAGE. Thou 'rt a good boy; this secrecy of thine shall
- be a tailor to thee, and shall make thee a new doublet and
- hose. I'll go hide me.
- MRS. FORD. Do so. Go tell thy master I am alone. [Exit
- ROBIN] Mistress Page, remember you your cue.
- MRS. PAGE. I warrant thee; if I do not act it, hiss me.
- Exit MRS. PAGE
- MRS. FORD. Go to, then; we'll use this unwholesome
- humidity, this gross wat'ry pumpion; we'll teach him to
- know turtles from jays.
-
- Enter FALSTAFF
-
- FALSTAFF. Have I caught thee, my heavenly jewel?
- Why, now let me die, for I have liv'd long enough; this is
- the period of my ambition. O this blessed hour!
- MRS. FORD. O sweet Sir John!
- FALSTAFF. Mistress Ford, I cannot cog, I cannot prate,
- Mistress Ford. Now shall I sin in my wish; I would thy
- husband were dead; I'll speak it before the best lord, I
- would make thee my lady.
- MRS. FORD. I your lady, Sir John? Alas, I should be a pitiful
- lady.
- FALSTAFF. Let the court of France show me such another. I
- see how thine eye would emulate the diamond; thou hast
- the right arched beauty of the brow that becomes the
- ship-tire, the tire-valiant, or any tire of Venetian admittance.
- MRS. FORD. A plain kerchief, Sir John; my brows become
- nothing else, nor that well neither.
- FALSTAFF. By the Lord, thou art a tyrant to say so; thou
- wouldst make an absolute courtier, and the firm fixture of
- thy foot would give an excellent motion to thy gait in a
- semi-circled farthingale. I see what thou wert, if Fortune
- thy foe were, not Nature, thy friend. Come, thou canst not
- hide it.
- MRS. FORD. Believe me, there's no such thing in me.
- FALSTAFF. What made me love thee? Let that persuade thee
- there's something extra-ordinary in thee. Come, I cannot
- cog, and say thou art this and that, like a many of these
- lisping hawthorn-buds that come like women in men's
- apparel, and smell like Bucklersbury in simple time; I
- cannot; but I love thee, none but thee; and thou deserv'st it.
- MRS. FORD. Do not betray me, sir; I fear you love Mistress
- Page.
- FALSTAFF. Thou mightst as well say I love to walk by the
- Counter-gate, which is as hateful to me as the reek of a
- lime-kiln.
- MRS. FORD. Well, heaven knows how I love you; and you
- shall one day find it.
- FALSTAFF. Keep in that mind; I'll deserve it.
- MRS. FORD. Nay, I must tell you, so you do; or else I could
- not be in that mind.
- ROBIN. [Within] Mistress Ford, Mistress Ford! here's
- Mistress Page at the door, sweating and blowing and looking
- wildly, and would needs speak with you presently.
- FALSTAFF. She shall not see me; I will ensconce me behind
- the arras.
- MRS. FORD. Pray you, do so; she's a very tattling woman.
- [FALSTAFF hides himself]
-
- Re-enter MISTRESS PAGE and ROBIN
-
- What's the matter? How now!
- MRS. PAGE. O Mistress Ford, what have you done? You're
- sham'd, y'are overthrown, y'are undone for ever.
- MRS. FORD. What's the matter, good Mistress Page?
- MRS. PAGE. O well-a-day, Mistress Ford, having an honest
- man to your husband, to give him such cause of suspicion!
- MRS. FORD. What cause of suspicion?
- MRS. PAGE. What cause of suspicion? Out upon you, how
- am I mistook in you!
- MRS. FORD. Why, alas, what's the matter?
- MRS. PAGE. Your husband's coming hither, woman, with all
- the officers in Windsor, to search for a gentleman that he
- says is here now in the house, by your consent, to take an
- ill advantage of his absence. You are undone.
- MRS. FORD. 'Tis not so, I hope.
- MRS. PAGE. Pray heaven it be not so that you have such a
- man here; but 'tis most certain your husband's coming,
- with half Windsor at his heels, to search for such a one. I
- come before to tell you. If you know yourself clear, why,
- I am glad of it; but if you have a friend here, convey,
- convey him out. Be not amaz'd; call all your senses to you;
- defend your reputation, or bid farewell to your good life
- for ever.
- MRS. FORD. What shall I do? There is a gentleman, my dear
- friend; and I fear not mine own shame as much as his peril.
- I had rather than a thousand pound he were out of the
- house.
- MRS. PAGE. For shame, never stand 'you had rather' and 'you
- had rather'! Your husband's here at hand; bethink you of
- some conveyance; in the house you cannot hide him. O,
- how have you deceiv'd me! Look, here is a basket; if he be
- of any reasonable stature, he may creep in here; and throw
- foul linen upon him, as if it were going to bucking, or-it is
- whiting-time-send him by your two men to Datchet
- Mead.
- MRS. FORD. He's too big to go in there. What shall I do?
- FALSTAFF. [Coming forward] Let me see 't, let me see 't. O,
- let me see 't! I'll in, I'll in; follow your friend's counsel;
- I'll in.
- MRS. PAGE. What, Sir John Falstaff! [Aside to FALSTAFF]
- Are these your letters, knight?
- FALSTAFF. [Aside to MRS. PAGE] I love thee and none but
- thee; help me away.-Let me creep in here; I'll never-
- [Gets into the basket; they cover him with foul linen]
- MRS. PAGE. Help to cover your master, boy. Call your men,
- Mistress Ford. You dissembling knight!
- MRS. FORD. What, John! Robert! John! Exit ROBIN
-
- Re-enter SERVANTS
-
- Go, take up these clothes here, quickly; where's the
- cowl-staff? Look how you drumble. Carry them to the laundress
- in Datchet Mead; quickly, come.
-
- Enter FORD, PAGE, CAIUS, and SIR HUGH EVANS
-
- FORD. Pray you come near. If I suspect without cause, why
- then make sport at me, then let me be your jest; I deserve
- it. How now, whither bear you this?
- SERVANT. To the laundress, forsooth.
- MRS. FORD. Why, what have you to do whither they bear it?
- You were best meddle with buck-washing.
- FORD. Buck? I would I could wash myself of the buck!
- Buck, buck, buck! ay, buck! I warrant you, buck; and of
- the season too, it shall appear. [Exeunt SERVANTS with
- basket] Gentlemen, I have dream'd to-night; I'll tell you my
- dream. Here, here, here be my keys; ascend my chambers,
- search, seek, find out. I'll warrant we'll unkennel the fox.
- Let me stop this way first. [Locking the door] So, now
- uncape.
- PAGE. Good Master Ford, be contented; you wrong yourself
- too much.
- FORD. True, Master Page. Up, gentlemen, you shall see sport
- anon; follow me, gentlemen. Exit
- EVANS. This is fery fantastical humours and jealousies.
- CAIUS. By gar, 'tis no the fashion of France; it is not jealous
- in France.
- PAGE. Nay, follow him, gentlemen; see the issue of his
- search. Exeunt EVANS, PAGE, and CAIUS
- MRS. PAGE. Is there not a double excellency in this?
- MRS. FORD. I know not which pleases me better, that my
- husband is deceived, or Sir John.
- MRS. PAGE. What a taking was he in when your husband
- ask'd who was in the basket!
- MRS. FORD. I am half afraid he will have need of washing; so
- throwing him into the water will do him a benefit.
- MRS. PAGE. Hang him, dishonest rascal! I would all of the
- same strain were in the same distress.
- MRS. FORD. I think my husband hath some special suspicion
- of Falstaff's being here, for I never saw him so gross in his
- jealousy till now.
- MRS. PAGE. I Will lay a plot to try that, and we will yet have
- more tricks with Falstaff. His dissolute disease will scarce
- obey this medicine.
- MRS. FORD. Shall we send that foolish carrion, Mistress
- Quickly, to him, and excuse his throwing into the water,
- and give him another hope, to betray him to another
- punishment?
- MRS. PAGE. We will do it; let him be sent for to-morrow
- eight o'clock, to have amends.
-
- Re-enter FORD, PAGE, CAIUS, and SIR HUGH EVANS
-
- FORD. I cannot find him; may be the knave bragg'd of that
- he could not compass.
- MRS. PAGE. [Aside to MRS. FORD] Heard you that?
- MRS. FORD. You use me well, Master Ford, do you?
- FORD. Ay, I do so.
- MRS. FORD. Heaven make you better than your thoughts!
- FORD. Amen.
- MRS. PAGE. You do yourself mighty wrong, Master Ford.
- FORD. Ay, ay; I must bear it.
- EVANS. If there be any pody in the house, and in the
- chambers, and in the coffers, and in the presses, heaven forgive
- my sins at the day of judgment!
- CAIUS. Be gar, nor I too; there is no bodies.
- PAGE. Fie, fie, Master Ford, are you not asham'd? What
- spirit, what devil suggests this imagination? I would not ha'
- your distemper in this kind for the wealth of Windsor
- Castle.
- FORD. 'Tis my fault, Master Page; I suffer for it.
- EVANS. You suffer for a pad conscience. Your wife is as
- honest a omans as I will desires among five thousand, and five
- hundred too.
- CAIUS. By gar, I see 'tis an honest woman.
- FORD. Well, I promis'd you a dinner. Come, come, walk in
- the Park. I pray you pardon me; I will hereafter make
- known to you why I have done this. Come, wife, come,
- Mistress Page; I pray you pardon me; pray heartly,
- pardon me.
- PAGE. Let's go in, gentlemen; but, trust me, we'll mock him.
- I do invite you to-morrow morning to my house to breakfast;
- after, we'll a-birding together; I have a fine hawk for
- the bush. Shall it be so?
- FORD. Any thing.
- EVANS. If there is one, I shall make two in the company.
- CAIUS. If there be one or two, I shall make-a the turd.
- FORD. Pray you go, Master Page.
- EVANS. I pray you now, remembrance to-morrow on the
- lousy knave, mine host.
- CAIUS. Dat is good; by gar, with all my heart.
- EVANS. A lousy knave, to have his gibes and his mockeries!
- Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 4.
-
-Before PAGE'S house
-
-Enter FENTON and ANNE PAGE
-
- FENTON. I see I cannot get thy father's love;
- Therefore no more turn me to him, sweet Nan.
- ANNE. Alas, how then?
- FENTON. Why, thou must be thyself.
- He doth object I am too great of birth;
- And that, my state being gall'd with my expense,
- I seek to heal it only by his wealth.
- Besides these, other bars he lays before me,
- My riots past, my wild societies;
- And tells me 'tis a thing impossible
- I should love thee but as a property.
- ANNE.. May be he tells you true.
- FENTON. No, heaven so speed me in my time to come!
- Albeit I will confess thy father's wealth
- Was the first motive that I woo'd thee, Anne;
- Yet, wooing thee, I found thee of more value
- Than stamps in gold, or sums in sealed bags;
- And 'tis the very riches of thyself
- That now I aim at.
- ANNE. Gentle Master Fenton,
- Yet seek my father's love; still seek it, sir.
- If opportunity and humblest suit
- Cannot attain it, why then-hark you hither.
- [They converse apart]
-
- Enter SHALLOW, SLENDER, and MISTRESS QUICKLY
-
- SHALLOW. Break their talk, Mistress Quickly; my kinsman
- shall speak for himself.
- SLENDER. I'll make a shaft or a bolt on 't; 'slid, 'tis but
- venturing.
- SHALLOW. Be not dismay'd.
- SLENDER. No, she shall not dismay me. I care not for that,
- but that I am afeard.
- QUICKLY. Hark ye, Master Slender would speak a word
- with you.
- ANNE. I come to him. [Aside] This is my father's choice.
- O, what a world of vile ill-favour'd faults
- Looks handsome in three hundred pounds a year!
- QUICKLY. And how does good Master Fenton? Pray you, a
- word with you.
- SHALLOW. She's coming; to her, coz. O boy, thou hadst a
- father!
- SLENDER. I had a father, Mistress Anne; my uncle can tell
- you good jests of him. Pray you, uncle, tell Mistress Anne
- the jest how my father stole two geese out of a pen, good
- uncle.
- SHALLOW. Mistress Anne, my cousin loves you.
- SLENDER. Ay, that I do; as well as I love any woman in
- Gloucestershire.
- SHALLOW. He will maintain you like a gentlewoman.
- SLENDER. Ay, that I will come cut and longtail, under the
- degree of a squire.
- SHALLOW. He will make you a hundred and fifty pounds
- jointure.
- ANNE. Good Master Shallow, let him woo for himself.
- SHALLOW. Marry, I thank you for it; I thank you for that
- good comfort. She calls you, coz; I'll leave you.
- ANNE. Now, Master Slender-
- SLENDER. Now, good Mistress Anne-
- ANNE. What is your will?
- SLENDER. My Will! 'Od's heartlings, that's a pretty jest
- indeed! I ne'er made my will yet, I thank heaven; I am not
- such a sickly creature, I give heaven praise.
- ANNE. I mean, Master Slender, what would you with me?
- SLENDER. Truly, for mine own part I would little or nothing
- with you. Your father and my uncle hath made motions;
- if it be my luck, so; if not, happy man be his dole! They
- can tell you how things go better than I can. You may ask
- your father; here he comes.
-
- Enter PAGE and MISTRESS PAGE
-
- PAGE. Now, Master Slender! Love him, daughter Anne-
- Why, how now, what does Master Fenton here?
- You wrong me, sir, thus still to haunt my house.
- I told you, sir, my daughter is dispos'd of.
- FENTON. Nay, Master Page, be not impatient.
- MRS. PAGE. Good Master Fenton, come not to my child.
- PAGE. She is no match for you.
- FENTON. Sir, will you hear me?
- PAGE. No, good Master Fenton.
- Come, Master Shallow; come, son Slender; in.
- Knowing my mind, you wrong me, Master Fenton.
- Exeunt PAGE, SHALLOW, and SLENDER
- QUICKLY. Speak to Mistress Page.
- FENTON. Good Mistress Page, for that I love your daughter
- In such a righteous fashion as I do,
- Perforce, against all checks, rebukes, and manners,
- I must advance the colours of my love,
- And not retire. Let me have your good will.
- ANNE. Good mother, do not marry me to yond fool.
- MRS. PAGE. I mean it not; I seek you a better husband.
- QUICKLY. That's my master, Master Doctor.
- ANNE. Alas, I had rather be set quick i' th' earth.
- And bowl'd to death with turnips.
- MRS. PAGE. Come, trouble not yourself. Good Master
- Fenton,
- I will not be your friend, nor enemy;
- My daughter will I question how she loves you,
- And as I find her, so am I affected;
- Till then, farewell, sir; she must needs go in;
- Her father will be angry.
- FENTON. Farewell, gentle mistress; farewell, Nan.
- Exeunt MRS. PAGE and ANNE
- QUICKLY. This is my doing now: 'Nay,' said I 'will you cast
- away your child on a fool, and a physician? Look on
- Master Fenton.' This is my doing.
- FENTON. I thank thee; and I pray thee, once to-night
- Give my sweet Nan this ring. There's for thy pains.
- QUICKLY. Now Heaven send thee good fortune! [Exit
- FENTON] A kind heart he hath; a woman would run through
- fire and water for such a kind heart. But yet I would my
- master had Mistress Anne; or I would Master Slender had
- her; or, in sooth, I would Master Fenton had her; I will
- do what I can for them all three, for so I have promis'd,
- and I'll be as good as my word; but speciously for Master
- Fenton. Well, I must of another errand to Sir John Falstaff
- from my two mistresses. What a beast am I to slack it!
- Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 5.
-
-The Garter Inn
-
-Enter FALSTAFF and BARDOLPH
-
- FALSTAFF. Bardolph, I say!
- BARDOLPH. Here, sir.
- FALSTAFF. Go fetch me a quart of sack; put a toast in 't.
- Exit BARDOLPH
- Have I liv'd to be carried in a basket, like a barrow of
- butcher's offal, and to be thrown in the Thames? Well, if
- I be serv'd such another trick, I'll have my brains ta'en out
- and butter'd, and give them to a dog for a new-year's gift.
- The rogues slighted me into the river with as little remorse
- as they would have drown'd a blind bitch's puppies, fifteen
- i' th' litter; and you may know by my size that I have
- a kind of alacrity in sinking; if the bottom were as deep as
- hell I should down. I had been drown'd but that the shore
- was shelvy and shallow-a death that I abhor; for the water
- swells a man; and what a thing should I have been when
- had been swell'd! I should have been a mountain of
- mummy.
-
- Re-enter BARDOLPH, with sack
-
- BARDOLPH. Here's Mistress Quickly, sir, to speak with you
- FALSTAFF. Come, let me pour in some sack to the Thames
- water; for my belly's as cold as if I had swallow'd
- snowballs for pills to cool the reins. Call her in.
- BARDOLPH. Come in, woman.
-
- Enter MISTRESS QUICKLY
-
- QUICKLY. By your leave; I cry you mercy. Give your
- worship good morrow.
- FALSTAFF. Take away these chalices. Go, brew me a pottle
- of sack finely.
- BARDOLPH. With eggs, sir?
- FALSTAFF. Simple of itself; I'll no pullet-sperm in my
- brewage. [Exit BARDOLPH] How now!
- QUICKLY. Marry, sir, I come to your worship from Mistress
- Ford.
- FALSTAFF. Mistress Ford! I have had ford enough; I was
- thrown into the ford; I have my belly full of ford.
- QUICKLY. Alas the day, good heart, that was not her fault!
- She does so take on with her men; they mistook their
- erection.
- FALSTAFF. So did I mine, to build upon a foolish woman's
- promise.
- QUICKLY. Well, she laments, sir, for it, that it would yearn
- your heart to see it. Her husband goes this morning
- a-birding; she desires you once more to come to her between
- eight and nine; I must carry her word quickly. She'll make
- you amends, I warrant you.
- FALSTAFF. Well, I Will visit her. Tell her so; and bid her
- think what a man is. Let her consider his frailty, and then
- judge of my merit.
- QUICKLY. I will tell her.
- FALSTAFF. Do so. Between nine and ten, say'st thou?
- QUICKLY. Eight and nine, sir.
- FALSTAFF. Well, be gone; I will not miss her.
- QUICKLY. Peace be with you, sir. Exit
- FALSTAFF. I marvel I hear not of Master Brook; he sent me
- word to stay within. I like his money well. O, here he
- comes.
-
- Enter FORD disguised
-
- FORD. Bless you, sir!
- FALSTAFF. Now, Master Brook, you come to know what
- hath pass'd between me and Ford's wife?
- FORD. That, indeed, Sir John, is my business.
- FALSTAFF. Master Brook, I will not lie to you; I was at her
- house the hour she appointed me.
- FORD. And sped you, sir?
- FALSTAFF. Very ill-favouredly, Master Brook.
- FORD. How so, sir; did she change her determination?
- FALSTAFF. No. Master Brook; but the peaking cornuto her
- husband, Master Brook, dwelling in a continual 'larum of
- jealousy, comes me in the instant of our, encounter, after
- we had embrac'd, kiss'd, protested, and, as it were, spoke
- the prologue of our comedy; and at his heels a rabble of his
- companions, thither provoked and instigated by his
- distemper, and, forsooth, to search his house for his wife's
- love.
- FORD. What, while you were there?
- FALSTAFF. While I was there.
- FORD. And did he search for you, and could not find you?
- FALSTAFF. You shall hear. As good luck would have it, comes
- in one Mistress Page, gives intelligence of Ford's approach;
- and, in her invention and Ford's wife's distraction, they
- convey'd me into a buck-basket.
- FORD. A buck-basket!
- FALSTAFF. By the Lord, a buck-basket! Ramm'd me in with
- foul shirts and smocks, socks, foul stockings, greasy
- napkins, that, Master Brook, there was the rankest compound
- of villainous smell that ever offended nostril.
- FORD. And how long lay you there?
- FALSTAFF. Nay, you shall hear, Master Brook, what I have
- suffer'd to bring this woman to evil for your good. Being
- thus cramm'd in the basket, a couple of Ford's knaves, his
- hinds, were call'd forth by their mistress to carry me in
- the name of foul clothes to Datchet Lane; they took me on
- their shoulders; met the jealous knave their master in the
- door; who ask'd them once or twice what they had in their
- basket. I quak'd for fear lest the lunatic knave would have
- search'd it; but Fate, ordaining he should be a cuckold,
- held his hand. Well, on went he for a search, and away
- went I for foul clothes. But mark the sequel, Master
- Brook-I suffered the pangs of three several deaths: first,
- an intolerable fright to be detected with a jealous rotten
- bell-wether; next, to be compass'd like a good bilbo in the
- circumference of a peck, hilt to point, heel to head; and
- then, to be stopp'd in, like a strong distillation, with
- stinking clothes that fretted in their own grease. Think of that
- -a man of my kidney. Think of that-that am as subject to
- heat as butter; a man of continual dissolution and thaw. It
- was a miracle to scape suffocation. And in the height of
- this bath, when I was more than half-stew'd in grease, like
- a Dutch dish, to be thrown into the Thames, and cool'd,
- glowing hot, in that surge, like a horse-shoe; think of that
- -hissing hot. Think of that, Master Brook.
- FORD. In good sadness, sir, I am sorry that for my sake you
- have suffer'd all this. My suit, then, is desperate;
- you'll undertake her no more.
- FALSTAFF. Master Brook, I will be thrown into Etna, as I
- have been into Thames, ere I will leave her thus. Her
- husband is this morning gone a-birding; I have received from
- her another embassy of meeting; 'twixt eight and nine is
- the hour, Master Brook.
- FORD. 'Tis past eight already, sir.
- FALSTAFF. Is it? I Will then address me to my appointment.
- Come to me at your convenient leisure, and you shall
- know how I speed; and the conclusion shall be crowned
- with your enjoying her. Adieu. You shall have her, Master
- Brook; Master Brook, you shall cuckold Ford. Exit
- FORD. Hum! ha! Is this a vision? Is this a dream? Do I sleep?
- Master Ford, awake; awake, Master Ford. There's a hole
- made in your best coat, Master Ford. This 'tis to be
- married; this 'tis to have linen and buck-baskets! Well, I will
- proclaim myself what I am; I will now take the lecher; he
- is at my house. He cannot scape me; 'tis impossible he
- should; he cannot creep into a halfpenny purse nor into
- a pepper box. But, lest the devil that guides him should aid
- him, I will search impossible places. Though what I am I
- cannot avoid, yet to be what I would not shall not make
- me tame. If I have horns to make one mad, let the proverb
- go with me-I'll be horn mad. Exit
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT IV. SCENE I.
-
-Windsor. A street
-
-Enter MISTRESS PAGE, MISTRESS QUICKLY, and WILLIAM
-
- MRS. PAGE. Is he at Master Ford's already, think'st thou?
- QUICKLY. Sure he is by this; or will be presently; but truly
- he is very courageous mad about his throwing into the
- water. Mistress Ford desires you to come suddenly.
- MRS. PAGE. I'll be with her by and by; I'll but bring my
- young man here to school. Look where his master comes;
- 'tis a playing day, I see.
-
- Enter SIR HUGH EVANS
-
- How now, Sir Hugh, no school to-day?
- EVANS. No; Master Slender is let the boys leave to play.
- QUICKLY. Blessing of his heart!
- MRS. PAGE. Sir Hugh, my husband says my son profits
- nothing in the world at his book; I pray you ask him some
- questions in his accidence.
- EVANS. Come hither, William; hold up your head; come.
- MRS. PAGE. Come on, sirrah; hold up your head; answer your
- master; be not afraid.
- EVANS. William, how many numbers is in nouns?
- WILLIAM. Two.
- QUICKLY. Truly, I thought there had been one number
- more, because they say 'Od's nouns.'
- EVANS. Peace your tattlings. What is 'fair,' William?
- WILLIAM. Pulcher.
- QUICKLY. Polecats! There are fairer things than polecats,
- sure.
- EVANS. You are a very simplicity oman; I pray you, peace.
- What is 'lapis,' William?
- WILLIAM. A stone.
- EVANS. And what is 'a stone,' William?
- WILLIAM. A pebble.
- EVANS. No, it is 'lapis'; I pray you remember in your prain.
- WILLIAM. Lapis.
- EVANS. That is a good William. What is he, William, that
- does lend articles?
- WILLIAM. Articles are borrowed of the pronoun, and be
- thus declined: Singulariter, nominativo; hic, haec, hoc.
- EVANS. Nominativo, hig, hag, hog; pray you, mark: genitivo,
- hujus. Well, what is your accusative case?
- WILLIAM. Accusativo, hinc.
- EVANS. I pray you, have your remembrance, child.
- Accusativo, hung, hang, hog.
- QUICKLY. 'Hang-hog' is Latin for bacon, I warrant you.
- EVANS. Leave your prabbles, oman. What is the focative
- case, William?
- WILLIAM. O-vocativo, O.
- EVANS. Remember, William: focative is caret.
- QUICKLY. And that's a good root.
- EVANS. Oman, forbear.
- MRS. PAGE. Peace.
- EVANS. What is your genitive case plural, William?
- WILLIAM. Genitive case?
- EVANS. Ay.
- WILLIAM. Genitive: horum, harum, horum.
- QUICKLY. Vengeance of Jenny's case; fie on her! Never
- name her, child, if she be a whore.
- EVANS. For shame, oman.
- QUICKLY. YOU do ill to teach the child such words. He
- teaches him to hick and to hack, which they'll do fast
- enough of themselves; and to call 'horum'; fie upon you!
- EVANS. Oman, art thou lunatics? Hast thou no understandings
- for thy cases, and the numbers of the genders? Thou
- art as foolish Christian creatures as I would desires.
- MRS. PAGE. Prithee hold thy peace.
- EVANS. Show me now, William, some declensions of your
- pronouns.
- WILLIAM. Forsooth, I have forgot.
- EVANS. It is qui, quae, quod; if you forget your qui's, your
- quae's, and your quod's, you must be preeches. Go your
- ways and play; go.
- MRS. PAGE. He is a better scholar than I thought he was.
- EVANS. He is a good sprag memory. Farewell, Mistress Page.
- MRS. PAGE. Adieu, good Sir Hugh. Exit SIR HUGH
- Get you home, boy. Come, we stay too long. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 2.
-
-FORD'S house
-
-Enter FALSTAFF and MISTRESS FORD
-
- FALSTAFF. Mistress Ford, your sorrow hath eaten up my
- sufferance. I see you are obsequious in your love, and I
- profess requital to a hair's breadth; not only, Mistress Ford, in
- the simple office of love, but in all the accoutrement,
- complement, and ceremony of it. But are you sure of your
- husband now?
- MRS. FORD. He's a-birding, sweet Sir John.
- MRS. PAGE. [Within] What hoa, gossip Ford, what hoa!
- MRS. FORD. Step into th' chamber, Sir John. Exit FALSTAFF
-
- Enter MISTRESS PAGE
-
- MRS. PAGE. How now, sweetheart, who's at home besides
- yourself?
- MRS. FORD. Why, none but mine own people.
- MRS. PAGE. Indeed?
- MRS. FORD. No, certainly. [Aside to her] Speak louder.
- MRS. PAGE. Truly, I am so glad you have nobody here.
- MRS. FORD. Why?
- MRS. PAGE. Why, woman, your husband is in his old lunes
- again. He so takes on yonder with my husband; so rails
- against all married mankind; so curses an Eve's daughters,
- of what complexion soever; and so buffets himself on the
- forehead, crying 'Peer-out, peer-out!' that any madness I
- ever yet beheld seem'd but tameness, civility, and patience,
- to this his distemper he is in now. I am glad the fat knight
- is not here.
- MRS. FORD. Why, does he talk of him?
- MRS. PAGE. Of none but him; and swears he was carried out,
- the last time he search'd for him, in a basket; protests to
- my husband he is now here; and hath drawn him and the
- rest of their company from their sport, to make another
- experiment of his suspicion. But I am glad the knight is not
- here; now he shall see his own foolery.
- MRS. FORD. How near is he, Mistress Page?
- MRS. PAGE. Hard by, at street end; he will be here anon.
- MRS. FORD. I am undone: the knight is here.
- MRS. PAGE. Why, then, you are utterly sham'd, and he's but
- a dead man. What a woman are you! Away with him,
- away with him; better shame than murder.
- MRS. FORD. Which way should he go? How should I bestow
- him? Shall I put him into the basket again?
-
- Re-enter FALSTAFF
-
- FALSTAFF. No, I'll come no more i' th' basket. May I not go
- out ere he come?
- MRS. PAGE. Alas, three of Master Ford's brothers watch the
- door with pistols, that none shall issue out; otherwise you
- might slip away ere he came. But what make you here?
- FALSTAFF. What shall I do? I'll creep up into the chimney.
- MRS. FORD. There they always use to discharge their
- birding-pieces.
- MRS. PAGE. Creep into the kiln-hole.
- FALSTAFF. Where is it?
- MRS. FORD. He will seek there, on my word. Neither press,
- coffer, chest, trunk, well, vault, but he hath an abstract for
- the remembrance of such places, and goes to them by his
- note. There is no hiding you in the house.
- FALSTAFF. I'll go out then.
- MRS. PAGE. If you go out in your own semblance, you die,
- Sir John. Unless you go out disguis'd.
- MRS. FORD. How might we disguise him?
- MRS. PAGE. Alas the day, I know not! There is no woman's
- gown big enough for him; otherwise he might put on a
- hat, a muffler, and a kerchief, and so escape.
- FALSTAFF. Good hearts, devise something; any extremity
- rather than a mischief.
- MRS. FORD. My Maid's aunt, the fat woman of Brainford, has
- a gown above.
- MRS. PAGE. On my word, it will serve him; she's as big as he
- is; and there's her thrumm'd hat, and her muffler too. Run
- up, Sir John.
- MRS. FORD. Go, go, sweet Sir John. Mistress Page and I will
- look some linen for your head.
- MRS. PAGE. Quick, quick; we'll come dress you straight. Put
- on the gown the while. Exit FALSTAFF
- MRS. FORD. I would my husband would meet him in this
- shape; he cannot abide the old woman of Brainford; he
- swears she's a witch, forbade her my house, and hath
- threat'ned to beat her.
- MRS. PAGE. Heaven guide him to thy husband's cudgel; and
- the devil guide his cudgel afterwards!
- MRS. FORD. But is my husband coming?
- MRS. PAGE. Ay, in good sadness is he; and talks of the basket
- too, howsoever he hath had intelligence.
- MRS. FORD. We'll try that; for I'll appoint my men to carry
- the basket again, to meet him at the door with it as they
- did last time.
- MRS. PAGE. Nay, but he'll be here presently; let's go dress
- him like the witch of Brainford.
- MRS. FORD. I'll first direct my men what they shall do with
- the basket. Go up; I'll bring linen for him straight. Exit
- MRS. PAGE. Hang him, dishonest varlet! we cannot misuse
- him enough.
- We'll leave a proof, by that which we will do,
- Wives may be merry and yet honest too.
- We do not act that often jest and laugh;
- 'Tis old but true: Still swine eats all the draff. Exit
-
- Re-enter MISTRESS FORD, with two SERVANTS
-
- MRS. FORD. Go, sirs, take the basket again on your shoulders;
- your master is hard at door; if he bid you set it down, obey
- him; quickly, dispatch. Exit
- FIRST SERVANT. Come, come, take it up.
- SECOND SERVANT. Pray heaven it be not full of knight again.
- FIRST SERVANT. I hope not; I had lief as bear so much lead.
-
- Enter FORD, PAGE, SHALLOW, CAIUS, and SIR HUGH EVANS
-
- FORD. Ay, but if it prove true, Master Page, have you any
- way then to unfool me again? Set down the basket, villain!
- Somebody call my wife. Youth in a basket! O you panderly
- rascals, there's a knot, a ging, a pack, a conspiracy
- against me. Now shall the devil be sham'd. What, wife, I
- say! Come, come forth; behold what honest clothes you
- send forth to bleaching.
- PAGE. Why, this passes, Master Ford; you are not to go loose
- any longer; you must be pinion'd.
- EVANS. Why, this is lunatics. This is mad as a mad dog.
- SHALLOW. Indeed, Master Ford, this is not well, indeed.
- FORD. So say I too, sir.
-
- Re-enter MISTRESS FORD
-
- Come hither, Mistress Ford; Mistress Ford, the honest
- woman, the modest wife, the virtuous creature, that hath
- the jealous fool to her husband! I suspect without cause,
- Mistress, do I?
- MRS. FORD. Heaven be my witness, you do, if you suspect
- me in any dishonesty.
- FORD. Well said, brazen-face; hold it out. Come forth, sirrah.
- [Pulling clothes out of the basket]
- PAGE. This passes!
- MRS. FORD. Are you not asham'd? Let the clothes alone.
- FORD. I shall find you anon.
- EVANS. 'Tis unreasonable. Will you take up your wife's
- clothes? Come away.
- FORD. Empty the basket, I say.
- MRS. FORD. Why, man, why?
- FORD. Master Page, as I am a man, there was one convey'd
- out of my house yesterday in this basket. Why may not
- he be there again? In my house I am sure he is; my
- intelligence is true; my jealousy is reasonable.
- Pluck me out all the linen.
- MRS. FORD. If you find a man there, he shall die a flea's
- death.
- PAGE. Here's no man.
- SHALLOW. By my fidelity, this is not well, Master Ford; this
- wrongs you.
- EVANS. Master Ford, you must pray, and not follow the
- imaginations of your own heart; this is jealousies.
- FORD. Well, he's not here I seek for.
- PAGE. No, nor nowhere else but in your brain.
- FORD. Help to search my house this one time. If I find not
- what I seek, show no colour for my extremity; let me for
- ever be your table sport; let them say of me 'As jealous as
- Ford, that search'd a hollow walnut for his wife's leman.'
- Satisfy me once more; once more search with me.
- MRS. FORD. What, hoa, Mistress Page! Come you and the old
- woman down; my husband will come into the chamber.
- FORD. Old woman? what old woman's that?
- MRS. FORD. Why, it is my maid's aunt of Brainford.
- FORD. A witch, a quean, an old cozening quean! Have I not
- forbid her my house? She comes of errands, does she? We
- are simple men; we do not know what's brought to pass
- under the profession of fortune-telling. She works by
- charms, by spells, by th' figure, and such daub'ry as this
- is, beyond our element. We know nothing. Come down, you
- witch, you hag you; come down, I say.
- MRS. FORD. Nay, good sweet husband! Good gentlemen, let
- him not strike the old woman.
-
- Re-enter FALSTAFF in woman's clothes, and MISTRESS PAGE
-
- MRS. PAGE. Come, Mother Prat; come. give me your hand.
- FORD. I'll prat her. [Beating him] Out of my door, you
- witch, you hag, you. baggage, you polecat, you ronyon!
- Out, out! I'll conjure you, I'll fortune-tell you.
- Exit FALSTAFF
- MRS. PAGE. Are you not asham'd? I think you have kill'd the
- poor woman.
- MRS. FORD. Nay, he will do it. 'Tis a goodly credit for you.
- FORD. Hang her, witch!
- EVANS. By yea and no, I think the oman is a witch indeed; I
- like not when a oman has a great peard; I spy a great peard
- under his muffler.
- FORD. Will you follow, gentlemen? I beseech you follow;
- see but the issue of my jealousy; if I cry out thus upon no
- trail, never trust me when I open again.
- PAGE. Let's obey his humour a little further. Come,
- gentlemen. Exeunt all but MRS. FORD and MRS. PAGE
- MRS. PAGE. Trust me, he beat him most pitifully.
- MRS. FORD. Nay, by th' mass, that he did not; he beat him
- most unpitifully methought.
- MRS. PAGE. I'll have the cudgel hallow'd and hung o'er the
- altar; it hath done meritorious service.
- MRS. FORD. What think you? May we, with the warrant of
- womanhood and the witness of a good conscience, pursue
- him with any further revenge?
- MRS. PAGE. The spirit of wantonness is sure scar'd out of
- him; if the devil have him not in fee-simple, with fine and
- recovery, he will never, I think, in the way of waste,
- attempt us again.
- MRS. FORD. Shall we tell our husbands how we have serv'd
- him?
- MRS. PAGE. Yes, by all means; if it be but to scrape the
- figures out of your husband's brains. If they can find in their
- hearts the poor unvirtuous fat knight shall be any further
- afflicted, we two will still be the ministers.
- MRS. FORD. I'll warrant they'll have him publicly sham'd;
- and methinks there would be no period to the jest, should
- he not be publicly sham'd.
- MRS. PAGE. Come, to the forge with it then; shape it. I
- would not have things cool. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 3.
-
-The Garter Inn
-
-Enter HOST and BARDOLPH
-
- BARDOLPH. Sir, the Germans desire to have three of your
- horses; the Duke himself will be to-morrow at court, and
- they are going to meet him.
- HOST. What duke should that be comes so secretly? I hear
- not of him in the court. Let me speak with the gentlemen;
- they speak English?
- BARDOLPH. Ay, sir; I'll call them to you.
- HOST. They shall have my horses, but I'll make them pay;
- I'll sauce them; they have had my house a week at
- command; I have turn'd away my other guests. They must
- come off; I'll sauce them. Come. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 4
-
-FORD'S house
-
-Enter PAGE, FORD, MISTRESS PAGE, MISTRESS FORD, and SIR HUGH EVANS
-
- EVANS. 'Tis one of the best discretions of a oman as ever
- did look upon.
- PAGE. And did he send you both these letters at an instant?
- MRS. PAGE. Within a quarter of an hour.
- FORD. Pardon me, wife. Henceforth, do what thou wilt;
- I rather will suspect the sun with cold
- Than thee with wantonness. Now doth thy honour stand,
- In him that was of late an heretic,
- As firm as faith.
- PAGE. 'Tis well, 'tis well; no more.
- Be not as extreme in submission as in offence;
- But let our plot go forward. Let our wives
- Yet once again, to make us public sport,
- Appoint a meeting with this old fat fellow,
- Where we may take him and disgrace him for it.
- FORD. There is no better way than that they spoke of.
- PAGE. How? To send him word they'll meet him in the Park
- at midnight? Fie, fie! he'll never come!
- EVANS. You say he has been thrown in the rivers; and has
- been grievously peaten as an old oman; methinks there
- should be terrors in him, that he should not come;
- methinks his flesh is punish'd; he shall have no desires.
- PAGE. So think I too.
- MRS. FORD. Devise but how you'll use him when he comes,
- And let us two devise to bring him thither.
- MRS. PAGE. There is an old tale goes that Heme the Hunter,
- Sometime a keeper here in Windsor Forest,
- Doth all the winter-time, at still midnight,
- Walk round about an oak, with great ragg'd horns;
- And there he blasts the tree, and takes the cattle,
- And makes milch-kine yield blood, and shakes a chain
- In a most hideous and dreadful manner.
- You have heard of such a spirit, and well you know
- The superstitious idle-headed eld
- Receiv'd, and did deliver to our age,
- This tale of Heme the Hunter for a truth.
- PAGE. Why yet there want not many that do fear
- In deep of night to walk by this Herne's oak.
- But what of this?
- MRS. FORD. Marry, this is our device-
- That Falstaff at that oak shall meet with us,
- Disguis'd, like Heme, with huge horns on his head.
- PAGE. Well, let it not be doubted but he'll come,
- And in this shape. When you have brought him thither,
- What shall be done with him? What is your plot?
- MRS. PAGE. That likewise have we thought upon, and
- thus:
- Nan Page my daughter, and my little son,
- And three or four more of their growth, we'll dress
- Like urchins, ouphes, and fairies, green and white,
- With rounds of waxen tapers on their heads,
- And rattles in their hands; upon a sudden,
- As Falstaff, she, and I, are newly met,
- Let them from forth a sawpit rush at once
- With some diffused song; upon their sight
- We two in great amazedness will fly.
- Then let them all encircle him about,
- And fairy-like, to pinch the unclean knight;
- And ask him why, that hour of fairy revel,
- In their so sacred paths he dares to tread
- In shape profane.
- MRS. FORD. And till he tell the truth,
- Let the supposed fairies pinch him sound,
- And burn him with their tapers.
- MRS. PAGE. The truth being known,
- We'll all present ourselves; dis-horn the spirit,
- And mock him home to Windsor.
- FORD. The children must
- Be practis'd well to this or they'll nev'r do 't.
- EVANS. I will teach the children their behaviours; and I will
- be like a jack-an-apes also, to burn the knight with my
- taber.
- FORD. That will be excellent. I'll go buy them vizards.
- MRS. PAGE. My Nan shall be the Queen of all the Fairies,
- Finely attired in a robe of white.
- PAGE. That silk will I go buy. [Aside] And in that time
- Shall Master Slender steal my Nan away,
- And marry her at Eton.-Go, send to Falstaff straight.
- FORD. Nay, I'll to him again, in name of Brook;
- He'll tell me all his purpose. Sure, he'll come.
- MRS. PAGE. Fear not you that. Go get us properties
- And tricking for our fairies.
- EVANS. Let us about it. It is admirable pleasures, and fery
- honest knaveries. Exeunt PAGE, FORD, and EVANS
- MRS. PAGE. Go, Mistress Ford.
- Send Quickly to Sir John to know his mind.
- Exit MRS. FORD
- I'll to the Doctor; he hath my good will,
- And none but he, to marry with Nan Page.
- That Slender, though well landed, is an idiot;
- And he my husband best of all affects.
- The Doctor is well money'd, and his friends
- Potent at court; he, none but he, shall have her,
- Though twenty thousand worthier come to crave her. Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 5.
-
-The Garter Inn
-
-Enter HOST and SIMPLE
-
- HOST. What wouldst thou have, boor? What, thick-skin?
- Speak, breathe, discuss; brief, short, quick, snap.
- SIMPLE. Marry, sir, I come to speak with Sir John Falstaff
- from Master Slender.
- HOST. There's his chamber, his house, his castle, his
- standing-bed and truckle-bed; 'tis painted about with the
- story of the Prodigal, fresh and new. Go, knock and can; he'll
- speak like an Anthropophaginian unto thee. Knock, I say.
- SIMPLE. There's an old woman, a fat woman, gone up into
- his chamber; I'll be so bold as stay, sir, till she come down;
- I come to speak with her, indeed.
- HOST. Ha! a fat woman? The knight may be robb'd. I'll call.
- Bully knight! Bully Sir John! Speak from thy lungs
- military. Art thou there? It is thine host, thine Ephesian, calls.
- FALSTAFF. [Above] How now, mine host?
- HOST. Here's a Bohemian-Tartar tarries the coming down of
- thy fat woman. Let her descend, bully, let her descend;
- my chambers are honourible. Fie, privacy, fie!
-
- Enter FALSTAFF
-
- FALSTAFF. There was, mine host, an old fat woman even
- now with, me; but she's gone.
- SIMPLE. Pray you, sir, was't not the wise woman of
- Brainford?
- FALSTAFF. Ay, marry was it, mussel-shell. What would you
- with her?
- SIMPLE. My master, sir, my Master Slender, sent to her,
- seeing her go thorough the streets, to know, sir, whether one
- Nym, sir, that beguil'd him of a chain, had the chain or no.
- FALSTAFF. I spake with the old woman about it.
- SIMPLE. And what says she, I pray, sir?
- FALSTAFF Marry, she says that the very same man that
- beguil'd Master Slender of his chain cozen'd him of it.
- SIMPLE. I would I could have spoken with the woman
- herself; I had other things to have spoken with her too,
- from him.
- FALSTAFF. What are they? Let us know.
- HOST. Ay, come; quick.
- SIMPLE. I may not conceal them, sir.
- FALSTAFF. Conceal them, or thou diest.
- SIMPLE.. Why, sir, they were nothing but about Mistress
- Anne Page: to know if it were my master's fortune to
- have her or no.
- FALSTAFF. 'Tis, 'tis his fortune.
- SIMPLE. What sir?
- FALSTAFF. To have her, or no. Go; say the woman told me
- so.
- SIMPLE. May I be bold to say so, sir?
- FALSTAFF. Ay, sir, like who more bold?
- SIMPLE., I thank your worship; I shall make my master glad
- with these tidings. Exit SIMPLE
- HOST. Thou art clerkly, thou art clerkly, Sir John. Was
- there a wise woman with thee?
- FALSTAFF. Ay, that there was, mine host; one that hath
- taught me more wit than ever I learn'd before in my life;
- and I paid nothing for it neither, but was paid for my
- learning.
-
- Enter BARDOLPH
-
- BARDOLPH. Out, alas, sir, cozenage, mere cozenage!
- HOST. Where be my horses? Speak well of them, varletto.
- BARDOLPH. Run away with the cozeners; for so soon as I
- came beyond Eton, they threw me off from behind one of
- them, in a slough of mire; and set spurs and away, like
- three German devils, three Doctor Faustuses.
- HOST. They are gone but to meet the Duke, villain; do not
- say they be fled. Germans are honest men.
-
- Enter SIR HUGH EVANS
-
- EVANS. Where is mine host?
- HOST. What is the matter, sir?
- EVANS. Have a care of your entertainments. There is a friend
- of mine come to town tells me there is three
- cozen-germans that has cozen'd all the hosts of Readins,
- of Maidenhead, of Colebrook, of horses and money. I tell you for
- good will, look you; you are wise, and full of gibes and
- vlouting-stogs, and 'tis not convenient you should be
- cozened. Fare you well. Exit
-
- Enter DOCTOR CAIUS
-
- CAIUS. Vere is mine host de Jarteer?
- HOST. Here, Master Doctor, in perplexity and doubtful
- dilemma.
- CAIUS. I cannot tell vat is dat; but it is tell-a me dat you
- make grand preparation for a Duke de Jamany. By my
- trot, dere is no duke that the court is know to come; I
- tell you for good will. Adieu. Exit
- HOST. Hue and cry, villain, go! Assist me, knight; I am
- undone. Fly, run, hue and cry, villain; I am undone.
- Exeunt HOST and BARDOLPH
- FALSTAFF. I would all the world might be cozen'd, for I have
- been cozen'd and beaten too. If it should come to the car
- of the court how I have been transformed, and how my
- transformation hath been wash'd and cudgell'd, they
- would melt me out of my fat, drop by drop, and liquor
- fishermen's boots with me; I warrant they would whip me
- with their fine wits till I were as crestfall'n as a dried pear.
- I never prosper'd since I forswore myself at primero. Well,
- if my wind were but long enough to say my prayers,
- would repent.
-
- Enter MISTRESS QUICKLY
-
- Now! whence come you?
- QUICKLY. From the two parties, forsooth.
- FALSTAFF. The devil take one party and his dam the other!
- And so they shall be both bestowed. I have suffer'd more
- for their sakes, more than the villainous inconstancy of
- man's disposition is able to bear.
- QUICKLY. And have not they suffer'd? Yes, I warrant;
- speciously one of them; Mistress Ford, good heart, is beaten
- black and blue, that you cannot see a white spot about her.
- FALSTAFF. What tell'st thou me of black and blue? I was
- beaten myself into all the colours of the rainbow; and
- was like to be apprehended for the witch of Brainford. But
- that my admirable dexterity of wit, my counterfeiting the
- action of an old woman, deliver'd me, the knave constable
- had set me i' th' stocks, i' th' common stocks, for a witch.
- QUICKLY. Sir, let me speak with you in your chamber; you
- shall hear how things go, and, I warrant, to your content.
- Here is a letter will say somewhat. Good hearts, what ado
- here is to bring you together! Sure, one of you does not
- serve heaven well, that you are so cross'd.
- FALSTAFF. Come up into my chamber. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 6.
-
-The Garter Inn
-
-Enter FENTON and HOST
-
- HOST. Master Fenton, talk not to me; my mind is heavy; I
- will give over all.
- FENTON. Yet hear me speak. Assist me in my purpose,
- And, as I am a gentleman, I'll give the
- A hundred pound in gold more than your loss.
- HOST. I will hear you, Master Fenton; and I will, at the least,
- keep your counsel.
- FENTON. From time to time I have acquainted you
- With the dear love I bear to fair Anne Page;
- Who, mutually, hath answer'd my affection,
- So far forth as herself might be her chooser,
- Even to my wish. I have a letter from her
- Of such contents as you will wonder at;
- The mirth whereof so larded with my matter
- That neither, singly, can be manifested
- Without the show of both. Fat Falstaff
- Hath a great scene. The image of the jest
- I'll show you here at large. Hark, good mine host:
- To-night at Heme's oak, just 'twixt twelve and one,
- Must my sweet Nan present the Fairy Queen-
- The purpose why is here-in which disguise,
- While other jests are something rank on foot,
- Her father hath commanded her to slip
- Away with Slender, and with him at Eton
- Immediately to marry; she hath consented.
- Now, sir,
- Her mother, even strong against that match
- And firm for Doctor Caius, hath appointed
- That he shall likewise shuffle her away
- While other sports are tasking of their minds,
- And at the dean'ry, where a priest attends,
- Straight marry her. To this her mother's plot
- She seemingly obedient likewise hath
- Made promise to the doctor. Now thus it rests:
- Her father means she shall be all in white;
- And in that habit, when Slender sees his time
- To take her by the hand and bid her go,
- She shall go with him; her mother hath intended
- The better to denote her to the doctor-
- For they must all be mask'd and vizarded-
- That quaint in green she shall be loose enrob'd,
- With ribands pendent, flaring 'bout her head;
- And when the doctor spies his vantage ripe,
- To pinch her by the hand, and, on that token,
- The maid hath given consent to go with him.
- HOST. Which means she to deceive, father or mother?
- FENTON. Both, my good host, to go along with me.
- And here it rests-that you'll procure the vicar
- To stay for me at church, 'twixt twelve and one,
- And in the lawful name of marrying,
- To give our hearts united ceremony.
- HOST. Well, husband your device; I'll to the vicar.
- Bring you the maid, you shall not lack a priest.
- FENTON. So shall I evermore be bound to thee;
- Besides, I'll make a present recompense. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT V. SCENE 1.
-
-The Garter Inn
-
-Enter FALSTAFF and MISTRESS QUICKLY
-
- FALSTAFF. Prithee, no more prattling; go. I'll, hold. This is
- the third time; I hope good luck lies in odd numbers.
- Away, go; they say there is divinity in odd numbers, either
- in nativity, chance, or death. Away.
- QUICKLY. I'll provide you a chain, and I'll do what I can to
- get you a pair of horns.
- FALSTAFF. Away, I say; time wears; hold up your head, and
- mince. Exit MRS. QUICKLY
-
- Enter FORD disguised
-
- How now, Master Brook. Master Brook, the matter will
- be known tonight or never. Be you in the Park about
- midnight, at Herne's oak, and you shall see wonders.
- FORD. Went you not to her yesterday, sir, as you told me
- you had appointed?
- FALSTAFF. I went to her, Master Brook, as you see, like a
- poor old man; but I came from her, Master Brook, like a
- poor old woman. That same knave Ford, her husband, hath
- the finest mad devil of jealousy in him, Master Brook, that
- ever govern'd frenzy. I will tell you-he beat me grievously
- in the shape of a woman; for in the shape of man, Master
- Brook, I fear not Goliath with a weaver's beam; because
- I know also life is a shuttle. I am in haste; go along with
- me; I'll. tell you all, Master Brook. Since I pluck'd geese,
- play'd truant, and whipp'd top, I knew not what 'twas to
- be beaten till lately. Follow me. I'll tell you strange things
- of this knave-Ford, on whom to-night I will be revenged,
- and I will deliver his wife into your hand. Follow. Strange
- things in hand, Master Brook! Follow. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 2.
-
-Windsor Park
-
-Enter PAGE, SHALLOW, and SLENDER
-
- PAGE. Come, come; we'll couch i' th' Castle ditch till we
- see the light of our fairies. Remember, son Slender, my daughter.
- SLENDER. Ay, forsooth; I have spoke with her, and we have
- a nay-word how to know one another. I come to her in
- white and cry 'mum'; she cries 'budget,' and by that we
- know one another.
- SHALLOW. That's good too; but what needs either your mum
- or her budget? The white will decipher her well enough.
- It hath struck ten o'clock.
- PAGE. The night is dark; light and spirits will become it well.
- Heaven prosper our sport! No man means evil but the
- devil, and we shall know him by his horns. Let's away;
- follow me. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 3.
-
-A street leading to the Park
-
-Enter MISTRESS PAGE, MISTRESS FORD, and DOCTOR CAIUS
-
- MRS. PAGE. Master Doctor, my daughter is in green; when
- you see your time, take her by the hand, away with her to
- the deanery, and dispatch it quickly. Go before into the
- Park; we two must go together.
- CAIUS. I know vat I have to do; adieu.
- MRS. PAGE. Fare you well, sir. [Exit CAIUS] My husband
- will not rejoice so much at the abuse of Falstaff as he will
- chafe at the doctor's marrying my daughter; but 'tis no
- matter; better a little chiding than a great deal of
- heartbreak.
- MRS. FORD. Where is Nan now, and her troop of fairies, and
- the Welsh devil, Hugh?
- MRS. PAGE. They are all couch'd in a pit hard by Heme's
- oak, with obscur'd lights; which, at the very instant of
- Falstaff's and our meeting, they will at once display to the
- night.
- MRS. FORD. That cannot choose but amaze him.
- MRS. PAGE. If he be not amaz'd, he will be mock'd; if he be
- amaz'd, he will every way be mock'd.
- MRS. FORD. We'll betray him finely.
- MRS. PAGE. Against such lewdsters and their lechery,
- Those that betray them do no treachery.
- MRS. FORD. The hour draws on. To the oak, to the oak!
- Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 4.
-
-Windsor Park
-
-Enter SIR HUGH EVANS like a satyr, with OTHERS as fairies
-
- EVANS. Trib, trib, fairies; come; and remember your parts.
- Be pold, I pray you; follow me into the pit; and when I
- give the watch-ords, do as I pid you. Come, come; trib,
- trib. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 5.
-
-Another part of the Park
-
-Enter FALSTAFF disguised as HERNE
-
- FALSTAFF. The Windsor bell hath struck twelve; the minute
- draws on. Now the hot-blooded gods assist me!
- Remember, Jove, thou wast a bull for thy Europa; love set on thy
- horns. O powerful love! that in some respects makes a
- beast a man; in some other a man a beast. You were also,
- Jupiter, a swan, for the love of Leda. O omnipotent love!
- how near the god drew to the complexion of a goose! A
- fault done first in the form of a beast-O Jove, a beastly
- fault!-and then another fault in the semblance of a fowl-
- think on't, Jove, a foul fault! When gods have hot backs
- what shall poor men do? For me, I am here a Windsor
- stag; and the fattest, I think, i' th' forest. Send me a cool
- rut-time, Jove, or who can blame me to piss my tallow?
- Who comes here? my doe?
-
- Enter MISTRESS FORD and MISTRESS PAGE
-
- MRS. FORD. Sir John! Art thou there, my deer, my male deer.
- FALSTAFF. My doe with the black scut! Let the sky rain
- potatoes; let it thunder to the tune of Greensleeves, hail
- kissing-comfits, and snow eringoes; let there come a tempest
- of provocation, I will shelter me here. [Embracing her]
- MRS. FORD. Mistress Page is come with me, sweetheart.
- FALSTAFF. Divide me like a brib'd buck, each a haunch; I
- will keep my sides to myself, my shoulders for the fellow
- of this walk, and my horns I bequeath your husbands. Am
- I a woodman, ha? Speak I like Heme the Hunter? Why,
- now is Cupid a child of conscience; he makes restitution.
- As I am a true spirit, welcome! [A noise of horns]
- MRS. PAGE. Alas, what noise?
- MRS. FORD. Heaven forgive our sins!
- FALSTAFF. What should this be?
- MRS. FORD. } Away, away.
- MRS. PAGE. } Away, away. [They run off]
- FALSTAFF. I think the devil will not have me damn'd, lest the
- oil that's in me should set hell on fire; he would never else
- cross me thus.
-
- Enter SIR HUGH EVANS like a satyr, ANNE PAGE as
- a fairy, and OTHERS as the Fairy Queen, fairies, and
- Hobgoblin; all with tapers
-
- FAIRY QUEEN. Fairies, black, grey, green, and white,
- You moonshine revellers, and shades of night,
- You orphan heirs of fixed destiny,
- Attend your office and your quality.
- Crier Hobgoblin, make the fairy oyes.
- PUCK. Elves, list your names; silence, you airy toys.
- Cricket, to Windsor chimneys shalt thou leap;
- Where fires thou find'st unrak'd, and hearths unswept,
- There pinch the maids as blue as bilberry;
- Our radiant Queen hates sluts and sluttery.
- FALSTAFF. They are fairies; he that speaks to them shall die.
- I'll wink and couch; no man their works must eye.
- [Lies down upon his face]
- EVANS. Where's Pede? Go you, and where you find a maid
- That, ere she sleep, has thrice her prayers said,
- Raise up the organs of her fantasy
- Sleep she as sound as careless infancy;
- But those as sleep and think not on their sins,
- Pinch them, arms, legs, backs, shoulders, sides, and shins.
- FAIRY QUEEN. About, about;
- Search Windsor castle, elves, within and out;
- Strew good luck, ouphes, on every sacred room,
- That it may stand till the perpetual doom
- In state as wholesome as in state 'tis fit,
- Worthy the owner and the owner it.
- The several chairs of order look you scour
- With juice of balm and every precious flower;
- Each fair instalment, coat, and sev'ral crest,
- With loyal blazon, evermore be blest!
- And nightly, meadow-fairies, look you sing,
- Like to the Garter's compass, in a ring;
- Th' expressure that it bears, green let it be,
- More fertile-fresh than all the field to see;
- And 'Honi soit qui mal y pense' write
- In em'rald tufts, flow'rs purple, blue and white;
- Like sapphire, pearl, and rich embroidery,
- Buckled below fair knighthood's bending knee.
- Fairies use flow'rs for their charactery.
- Away, disperse; but till 'tis one o'clock,
- Our dance of custom round about the oak
- Of Herne the Hunter let us not forget.
- EVANS. Pray you, lock hand in hand; yourselves in order set;
- And twenty glow-worms shall our lanterns be,
- To guide our measure round about the tree.
- But, stay. I smell a man of middle earth.
- FALSTAFF. Heavens defend me from that Welsh fairy, lest he
- transform me to a piece of cheese!
- PUCK. Vile worm, thou wast o'erlook'd even in thy birth.
- FAIRY QUEEN. With trial-fire touch me his finger-end;
- If he be chaste, the flame will back descend,
- And turn him to no pain; but if he start,
- It is the flesh of a corrupted heart.
- PUCK. A trial, come.
- EVANS. Come, will this wood take fire?
- [They put the tapers to his fingers, and he starts]
- FALSTAFF. Oh, oh, oh!
- FAIRY QUEEN. Corrupt, corrupt, and tainted in desire!
- About him, fairies; sing a scornful rhyme;
- And, as you trip, still pinch him to your time.
- THE SONG.
- Fie on sinful fantasy!
- Fie on lust and luxury!
- Lust is but a bloody fire,
- Kindled with unchaste desire,
- Fed in heart, whose flames aspire,
- As thoughts do blow them, higher and higher.
- Pinch him, fairies, mutually;
- Pinch him for his villainy;
- Pinch him and burn him and turn him about,
- Till candles and star-light and moonshine be out.
-
- During this song they pinch FALSTAFF. DOCTOR
- CAIUS comes one way, and steals away a fairy in
- green; SLENDER another way, and takes off a fairy in
- white; and FENTON steals away ANNE PAGE. A noise
- of hunting is heard within. All the fairies run away.
- FALSTAFF pulls off his buck's head, and rises
-
- Enter PAGE, FORD, MISTRESS PAGE, MISTRESS FORD, and
- SIR HUGH EVANS
-
- PAGE. Nay, do not fly; I think we have watch'd you now.
- Will none but Heme the Hunter serve your turn?
- MRS. PAGE. I pray you, come, hold up the jest no higher.
- Now, good Sir John, how like you Windsor wives?
- See you these, husband? Do not these fair yokes
- Become the forest better than the town?
- FORD. Now, sir, who's a cuckold now? Master Brook,
- Falstaff's a knave, a cuckoldly knave; here are his horns,
- Master Brook; and, Master Brook, he hath enjoyed nothing of
- Ford's but his buck-basket, his cudgel, and twenty pounds
- of money, which must be paid to Master Brook; his horses
- are arrested for it, Master Brook.
- MRS. FORD. Sir John, we have had ill luck; we could never
- meet. I will never take you for my love again; but I will
- always count you my deer.
- FALSTAFF. I do begin to perceive that I am made an ass.
- FORD. Ay, and an ox too; both the proofs are extant.
- FALSTAFF. And these are not fairies? I was three or four
- times in the thought they were not fairies; and yet the
- guiltiness of my mind, the sudden surprise of my powers,
- drove the grossness of the foppery into a receiv'd belief,
- in despite of the teeth of all rhyme and reason, that they
- were fairies. See now how wit may be made a Jack-a-Lent
- when 'tis upon ill employment.
- EVANS. Sir John Falstaff, serve Got, and leave your desires,
- and fairies will not pinse you.
- FORD. Well said, fairy Hugh.
- EVANS. And leave you your jealousies too, I pray you.
- FORD. I will never mistrust my wife again, till thou art able
- to woo her in good English.
- FALSTAFF. Have I laid my brain in the sun, and dried it, that
- it wants matter to prevent so gross, o'er-reaching as this?
- Am I ridden with a Welsh goat too? Shall I have a cox-comb
- of frieze? 'Tis time I were chok'd with a piece of
- toasted cheese.
- EVANS. Seese is not good to give putter; your belly is all
- putter.
- FALSTAFF. 'Seese' and 'putter'! Have I liv'd to stand at the
- taunt of one that makes fritters of English? This is enough
- to be the decay of lust and late-walking through the realm.
- MRS. PAGE. Why, Sir John, do you think, though we would
- have thrust virtue out of our hearts by the head and
- shoulders, and have given ourselves without scruple to hell,
- that ever the devil could have made you our delight?
- FORD. What, a hodge-pudding? a bag of flax?
- MRS. PAGE. A puff'd man?
- PAGE. Old, cold, wither'd, and of intolerable entrails?
- FORD. And one that is as slanderous as Satan?
- PAGE. And as poor as Job?
- FORD. And as wicked as his wife?
- EVANS. And given to fornications, and to taverns, and sack,
- and wine, and metheglins, and to drinkings, and swearings,
- and starings, pribbles and prabbles?
- FALSTAFF. Well, I am your theme; you have the start of me;
- I am dejected; I am not able to answer the Welsh flannel;
- ignorance itself is a plummet o'er me; use me as you will.
- FORD. Marry, sir, we'll bring you to Windsor, to one Master
- Brook, that you have cozen'd of money, to whom you
- should have been a pander. Over and above that you have
- suffer'd, I think to repay that money will be a biting
- affliction.
- PAGE. Yet be cheerful, knight; thou shalt eat a posset
- tonight at my house, where I will desire thee to laugh at my
- wife, that now laughs at thee. Tell her Master Slender hath
- married her daughter.
- MRS. PAGE. [Aside] Doctors doubt that; if Anne Page be
- my daughter, she is, by this, Doctor Caius' wife.
-
- Enter SLENDER
-
- SLENDER. Whoa, ho, ho, father Page!
- PAGE. Son, how now! how now, son! Have you dispatch'd'?
- SLENDER. Dispatch'd! I'll make the best in Gloucestershire
- know on't; would I were hang'd, la, else!
- PAGE. Of what, son?
- SLENDER. I came yonder at Eton to marry Mistress Anne
- Page, and she's a great lubberly boy. If it had not been i'
- th' church, I would have swing'd him, or he should have
- swing'd me. If I did not think it had been Anne Page,
- would I might never stir!-and 'tis a postmaster's boy.
- PAGE. Upon my life, then, you took the wrong.
- SLENDER. What need you tell me that? I think so, when I
- took a boy for a girl. If I had been married to him, for all
- he was in woman's apparel, I would not have had him.
- PAGE. Why, this is your own folly. Did not I tell you how
- you should know my daughter by her garments?
- SLENDER. I went to her in white and cried 'mum' and she
- cried 'budget' as Anne and I had appointed; and yet it was
- not Anne, but a postmaster's boy.
- MRS. PAGE. Good George, be not angry. I knew of your
- purpose; turn'd my daughter into green; and, indeed, she
- is now with the Doctor at the dean'ry, and there married.
-
- Enter CAIUS
-
- CAIUS. Vere is Mistress Page? By gar, I am cozened; I ha'
- married un garcon, a boy; un paysan, by gar, a boy; it is
- not Anne Page; by gar, I am cozened.
- MRS. PAGE. Why, did you take her in green?
- CAIUS. Ay, be gar, and 'tis a boy; be gar, I'll raise all
- Windsor. Exit CAIUS
- FORD. This is strange. Who hath got the right Anne?
- PAGE. My heart misgives me; here comes Master Fenton.
-
- Enter FENTON and ANNE PAGE
-
- How now, Master Fenton!
- ANNE. Pardon, good father. Good my mother, pardon.
- PAGE. Now, Mistress, how chance you went not with Master
- Slender?
- MRS. PAGE. Why went you not with Master Doctor, maid?
- FENTON. You do amaze her. Hear the truth of it.
- You would have married her most shamefully,
- Where there was no proportion held in love.
- The truth is, she and I, long since contracted,
- Are now so sure that nothing can dissolve us.
- Th' offence is holy that she hath committed;
- And this deceit loses the name of craft,
- Of disobedience, or unduteous title,
- Since therein she doth evitate and shun
- A thousand irreligious cursed hours,
- Which forced marriage would have brought upon her.
- FORD. Stand not amaz'd; here is no remedy.
- In love, the heavens themselves do guide the state;
- Money buys lands, and wives are sold by fate.
- FALSTAFF. I am glad, though you have ta'en a special stand
- to strike at me, that your arrow hath glanc'd.
- PAGE. Well, what remedy? Fenton, heaven give thee joy!
- What cannot be eschew'd must be embrac'd.
- FALSTAFF. When night-dogs run, all sorts of deer are chas'd.
- MRS. PAGE. Well, I will muse no further. Master Fenton,
- Heaven give you many, many merry days!
- Good husband, let us every one go home,
- And laugh this sport o'er by a country fire;
- Sir John and all.
- FORD. Let it be so. Sir John,
- To Master Brook you yet shall hold your word;
- For he, to-night, shall lie with Mistress Ford. Exeunt
-
-THE END
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-
-
-1596
-
-A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM
-
-by William Shakespeare
-
-
-
-DRAMATIS PERSONAE
-
- THESEUS, Duke of Athens
- EGEUS, father to Hermia
- LYSANDER, in love with Hermia
- DEMETRIUS, in love with Hermia
- PHILOSTRATE, Master of the Revels to Theseus
- QUINCE, a carpenter
- SNUG, a joiner
- BOTTOM, a weaver
- FLUTE, a bellows-mender
- SNOUT, a tinker
- STARVELING, a tailor
-
- HIPPOLYTA, Queen of the Amazons, bethrothed to Theseus
- HERMIA, daughter to Egeus, in love with Lysander
- HELENA, in love with Demetrius
-
- OBERON, King of the Fairies
- TITANIA, Queen of the Fairies
- PUCK, or ROBIN GOODFELLOW
- PEASEBLOSSOM, fairy
- COBWEB, fairy
- MOTH, fairy
- MUSTARDSEED, fairy
-
- PROLOGUE, PYRAMUS, THISBY, WALL, MOONSHINE, LION are presented by:
- QUINCE, BOTTOM, FLUTE, SNOUT, STARVELING, AND SNUG
-
- Other Fairies attending their King and Queen
- Attendants on Theseus and Hippolyta
-
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-SCENE:
-Athens and a wood near it
-
-
-ACT I. SCENE I.
-Athens. The palace of THESEUS
-
-Enter THESEUS, HIPPOLYTA, PHILOSTRATE, and ATTENDANTS
-
- THESEUS. Now, fair Hippolyta, our nuptial hour
- Draws on apace; four happy days bring in
- Another moon; but, O, methinks, how slow
- This old moon wanes! She lingers my desires,
- Like to a step-dame or a dowager,
- Long withering out a young man's revenue.
- HIPPOLYTA. Four days will quickly steep themselves in night;
- Four nights will quickly dream away the time;
- And then the moon, like to a silver bow
- New-bent in heaven, shall behold the night
- Of our solemnities.
- THESEUS. Go, Philostrate,
- Stir up the Athenian youth to merriments;
- Awake the pert and nimble spirit of mirth;
- Turn melancholy forth to funerals;
- The pale companion is not for our pomp. Exit PHILOSTRATE
- Hippolyta, I woo'd thee with my sword,
- And won thy love doing thee injuries;
- But I will wed thee in another key,
- With pomp, with triumph, and with revelling.
-
- Enter EGEUS, and his daughter HERMIA, LYSANDER,
- and DEMETRIUS
-
- EGEUS. Happy be Theseus, our renowned Duke!
- THESEUS. Thanks, good Egeus; what's the news with thee?
- EGEUS. Full of vexation come I, with complaint
- Against my child, my daughter Hermia.
- Stand forth, Demetrius. My noble lord,
- This man hath my consent to marry her.
- Stand forth, Lysander. And, my gracious Duke,
- This man hath bewitch'd the bosom of my child.
- Thou, thou, Lysander, thou hast given her rhymes,
- And interchang'd love-tokens with my child;
- Thou hast by moonlight at her window sung,
- With feigning voice, verses of feigning love,
- And stol'n the impression of her fantasy
- With bracelets of thy hair, rings, gawds, conceits,
- Knacks, trifles, nosegays, sweetmeats- messengers
- Of strong prevailment in unhardened youth;
- With cunning hast thou filch'd my daughter's heart;
- Turn'd her obedience, which is due to me,
- To stubborn harshness. And, my gracious Duke,
- Be it so she will not here before your Grace
- Consent to marry with Demetrius,
- I beg the ancient privilege of Athens:
- As she is mine I may dispose of her;
- Which shall be either to this gentleman
- Or to her death, according to our law
- Immediately provided in that case.
- THESEUS. What say you, Hermia? Be advis'd, fair maid.
- To you your father should be as a god;
- One that compos'd your beauties; yea, and one
- To whom you are but as a form in wax,
- By him imprinted, and within his power
- To leave the figure, or disfigure it.
- Demetrius is a worthy gentleman.
- HERMIA. So is Lysander.
- THESEUS. In himself he is;
- But, in this kind, wanting your father's voice,
- The other must be held the worthier.
- HERMIA. I would my father look'd but with my eyes.
- THESEUS. Rather your eyes must with his judgment look.
- HERMIA. I do entreat your Grace to pardon me.
- I know not by what power I am made bold,
- Nor how it may concern my modesty
- In such a presence here to plead my thoughts;
- But I beseech your Grace that I may know
- The worst that may befall me in this case,
- If I refuse to wed Demetrius.
- THESEUS. Either to die the death, or to abjure
- For ever the society of men.
- Therefore, fair Hermia, question your desires,
- Know of your youth, examine well your blood,
- Whether, if you yield not to your father's choice,
- You can endure the livery of a nun,
- For aye to be shady cloister mew'd,
- To live a barren sister all your life,
- Chanting faint hymns to the cold fruitless moon.
- Thrice-blessed they that master so their blood
- To undergo such maiden pilgrimage;
- But earthlier happy is the rose distill'd
- Than that which withering on the virgin thorn
- Grows, lives, and dies, in single blessedness.
- HERMIA. So will I grow, so live, so die, my lord,
- Ere I will yield my virgin patent up
- Unto his lordship, whose unwished yoke
- My soul consents not to give sovereignty.
- THESEUS. Take time to pause; and by the next new moon-
- The sealing-day betwixt my love and me
- For everlasting bond of fellowship-
- Upon that day either prepare to die
- For disobedience to your father's will,
- Or else to wed Demetrius, as he would,
- Or on Diana's altar to protest
- For aye austerity and single life.
- DEMETRIUS. Relent, sweet Hermia; and, Lysander, yield
- Thy crazed title to my certain right.
- LYSANDER. You have her father's love, Demetrius;
- Let me have Hermia's; do you marry him.
- EGEUS. Scornful Lysander, true, he hath my love;
- And what is mine my love shall render him;
- And she is mine; and all my right of her
- I do estate unto Demetrius.
- LYSANDER. I am, my lord, as well deriv'd as he,
- As well possess'd; my love is more than his;
- My fortunes every way as fairly rank'd,
- If not with vantage, as Demetrius';
- And, which is more than all these boasts can be,
- I am belov'd of beauteous Hermia.
- Why should not I then prosecute my right?
- Demetrius, I'll avouch it to his head,
- Made love to Nedar's daughter, Helena,
- And won her soul; and she, sweet lady, dotes,
- Devoutly dotes, dotes in idolatry,
- Upon this spotted and inconstant man.
- THESEUS. I must confess that I have heard so much,
- And with Demetrius thought to have spoke thereof;
- But, being over-full of self-affairs,
- My mind did lose it. But, Demetrius, come;
- And come, Egeus; you shall go with me;
- I have some private schooling for you both.
- For you, fair Hermia, look you arm yourself
- To fit your fancies to your father's will,
- Or else the law of Athens yields you up-
- Which by no means we may extenuate-
- To death, or to a vow of single life.
- Come, my Hippolyta; what cheer, my love?
- Demetrius, and Egeus, go along;
- I must employ you in some business
- Against our nuptial, and confer with you
- Of something nearly that concerns yourselves.
- EGEUS. With duty and desire we follow you.
- Exeunt all but LYSANDER and HERMIA
- LYSANDER. How now, my love! Why is your cheek so pale?
- How chance the roses there do fade so fast?
- HERMIA. Belike for want of rain, which I could well
- Beteem them from the tempest of my eyes.
- LYSANDER. Ay me! for aught that I could ever read,
- Could ever hear by tale or history,
- The course of true love never did run smooth;
- But either it was different in blood-
- HERMIA. O cross! too high to be enthrall'd to low.
- LYSANDER. Or else misgraffed in respect of years-
- HERMIA. O spite! too old to be engag'd to young.
- LYSANDER. Or else it stood upon the choice of friends-
- HERMIA. O hell! to choose love by another's eyes.
- LYSANDER. Or, if there were a sympathy in choice,
- War, death, or sickness, did lay siege to it,
- Making it momentary as a sound,
- Swift as a shadow, short as any dream,
- Brief as the lightning in the collied night
- That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and earth,
- And ere a man hath power to say 'Behold!'
- The jaws of darkness do devour it up;
- So quick bright things come to confusion.
- HERMIA. If then true lovers have ever cross'd,
- It stands as an edict in destiny.
- Then let us teach our trial patience,
- Because it is a customary cross,
- As due to love as thoughts and dreams and sighs,
- Wishes and tears, poor Fancy's followers.
- LYSANDER. A good persuasion; therefore, hear me, Hermia.
- I have a widow aunt, a dowager
- Of great revenue, and she hath no child-
- From Athens is her house remote seven leagues-
- And she respects me as her only son.
- There, gentle Hermia, may I marry thee;
- And to that place the sharp Athenian law
- Cannot pursue us. If thou lovest me then,
- Steal forth thy father's house to-morrow night;
- And in the wood, a league without the town,
- Where I did meet thee once with Helena
- To do observance to a morn of May,
- There will I stay for thee.
- HERMIA. My good Lysander!
- I swear to thee by Cupid's strongest bow,
- By his best arrow, with the golden head,
- By the simplicity of Venus' doves,
- By that which knitteth souls and prospers loves,
- And by that fire which burn'd the Carthage Queen,
- When the false Troyan under sail was seen,
- By all the vows that ever men have broke,
- In number more than ever women spoke,
- In that same place thou hast appointed me,
- To-morrow truly will I meet with thee.
- LYSANDER. Keep promise, love. Look, here comes Helena.
-
- Enter HELENA
-
- HERMIA. God speed fair Helena! Whither away?
- HELENA. Call you me fair? That fair again unsay.
- Demetrius loves your fair. O happy fair!
- Your eyes are lode-stars and your tongue's sweet air
- More tuneable than lark to shepherd's ear,
- When wheat is green, when hawthorn buds appear.
- Sickness is catching; O, were favour so,
- Yours would I catch, fair Hermia, ere I go!
- My ear should catch your voice, my eye your eye,
- My tongue should catch your tongue's sweet melody.
- Were the world mine, Demetrius being bated,
- The rest I'd give to be to you translated.
- O, teach me how you look, and with what art
- You sway the motion of Demetrius' heart!
- HERMIA. I frown upon him, yet he loves me still.
- HELENA. O that your frowns would teach my smiles such skill!
- HERMIA. I give him curses, yet he gives me love.
- HELENA. O that my prayers could such affection move!
- HERMIA. The more I hate, the more he follows me.
- HELENA. The more I love, the more he hateth me.
- HERMIA. His folly, Helena, is no fault of mine.
- HELENA. None, but your beauty; would that fault were mine!
- HERMIA. Take comfort: he no more shall see my face;
- Lysander and myself will fly this place.
- Before the time I did Lysander see,
- Seem'd Athens as a paradise to me.
- O, then, what graces in my love do dwell,
- That he hath turn'd a heaven unto a hell!
- LYSANDER. Helen, to you our minds we will unfold:
- To-morrow night, when Phoebe doth behold
- Her silver visage in the wat'ry glass,
- Decking with liquid pearl the bladed grass,
- A time that lovers' flights doth still conceal,
- Through Athens' gates have we devis'd to steal.
- HERMIA. And in the wood where often you and I
- Upon faint primrose beds were wont to lie,
- Emptying our bosoms of their counsel sweet,
- There my Lysander and myself shall meet;
- And thence from Athens turn away our eyes,
- To seek new friends and stranger companies.
- Farewell, sweet playfellow; pray thou for us,
- And good luck grant thee thy Demetrius!
- Keep word, Lysander; we must starve our sight
- From lovers' food till morrow deep midnight.
- LYSANDER. I will, my Hermia. [Exit HERMIA] Helena, adieu;
- As you on him, Demetrius dote on you. Exit
- HELENA. How happy some o'er other some can be!
- Through Athens I am thought as fair as she.
- But what of that? Demetrius thinks not so;
- He will not know what all but he do know.
- And as he errs, doting on Hermia's eyes,
- So I, admiring of his qualities.
- Things base and vile, holding no quantity,
- Love can transpose to form and dignity.
- Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind;
- And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind.
- Nor hath Love's mind of any judgment taste;
- Wings and no eyes figure unheedy haste;
- And therefore is Love said to be a child,
- Because in choice he is so oft beguil'd.
- As waggish boys in game themselves forswear,
- So the boy Love is perjur'd everywhere;
- For ere Demetrius look'd on Hermia's eyne,
- He hail'd down oaths that he was only mine;
- And when this hail some heat from Hermia felt,
- So he dissolv'd, and show'rs of oaths did melt.
- I will go tell him of fair Hermia's flight;
- Then to the wood will he to-morrow night
- Pursue her; and for this intelligence
- If I have thanks, it is a dear expense.
- But herein mean I to enrich my pain,
- To have his sight thither and back again. Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-Athens. QUINCE'S house
-
-Enter QUINCE, SNUG, BOTTOM FLUTE, SNOUT, and STARVELING
-
- QUINCE. Is all our company here?
- BOTTOM. You were best to call them generally, man by man, according
- to the scrip.
- QUINCE. Here is the scroll of every man's name which is thought
- fit, through all Athens, to play in our interlude before the Duke
- and the Duchess on his wedding-day at night.
- BOTTOM. First, good Peter Quince, say what the play treats on; then
- read the names of the actors; and so grow to a point.
- QUINCE. Marry, our play is 'The most Lamentable Comedy and most
- Cruel Death of Pyramus and Thisby.'
- BOTTOM. A very good piece of work, I assure you, and a merry. Now,
- good Peter Quince, call forth your actors by the scroll. Masters,
- spread yourselves.
- QUINCE. Answer, as I call you. Nick Bottom, the weaver.
- BOTTOM. Ready. Name what part I am for, and proceed.
- QUINCE. You, Nick Bottom, are set down for Pyramus.
- BOTTOM. What is Pyramus? A lover, or a tyrant?
- QUINCE. A lover, that kills himself most gallant for love.
- BOTTOM. That will ask some tears in the true performing of it. If I
- do it, let the audience look to their eyes; I will move storms; I
- will condole in some measure. To the rest- yet my chief humour is
- for a tyrant. I could play Ercles rarely, or a part to tear a cat
- in, to make all split.
-
- 'The raging rocks
- And shivering shocks
- Shall break the locks
- Of prison gates;
-
- And Phibbus' car
- Shall shine from far,
- And make and mar
- The foolish Fates.'
-
- This was lofty. Now name the rest of the players. This is
- Ercles' vein, a tyrant's vein: a lover is more condoling.
- QUINCE. Francis Flute, the bellows-mender.
- FLUTE. Here, Peter Quince.
- QUINCE. Flute, you must take Thisby on you.
- FLUTE. What is Thisby? A wand'ring knight?
- QUINCE. It is the lady that Pyramus must love.
- FLUTE. Nay, faith, let not me play a woman; I have a beard coming.
- QUINCE. That's all one; you shall play it in a mask, and you may
- speak as small as you will.
- BOTTOM. An I may hide my face, let me play Thisby too.
- I'll speak in a monstrous little voice: 'Thisne, Thisne!'
- [Then speaking small] 'Ah Pyramus, my lover dear! Thy
- Thisby dear, and lady dear!'
- QUINCE. No, no, you must play Pyramus; and, Flute, you Thisby.
- BOTTOM. Well, proceed.
- QUINCE. Robin Starveling, the tailor.
- STARVELING. Here, Peter Quince.
- QUINCE. Robin Starveling, you must play Thisby's mother.
- Tom Snout, the tinker.
- SNOUT. Here, Peter Quince.
- QUINCE. You, Pyramus' father; myself, Thisby's father; Snug, the
- joiner, you, the lion's part. And, I hope, here is a play fitted.
- SNUG. Have you the lion's part written? Pray you, if it be, give it
- me, for I am slow of study.
- QUINCE. You may do it extempore, for it is nothing but roaring.
- BOTTOM. Let me play the lion too. I will roar that I will do any
- man's heart good to hear me; I will roar that I will make the
- Duke say 'Let him roar again, let him roar again.'
- QUINCE. An you should do it too terribly, you would fright the
- Duchess and the ladies, that they would shriek; and that were
- enough to hang us all.
- ALL. That would hang us, every mother's son.
- BOTTOM. I grant you, friends, if you should fright the ladies out
- of their wits, they would have no more discretion but to hang us;
- but I will aggravate my voice so, that I will roar you as gently
- as any sucking dove; I will roar you an 'twere any nightingale.
- QUINCE. You can play no part but Pyramus; for Pyramus is a
- sweet-fac'd man; a proper man, as one shall see in a summer's
- day; a most lovely gentleman-like man; therefore you must needs
- play Pyramus.
- BOTTOM. Well, I will undertake it. What beard were I best to play
- it in?
- QUINCE. Why, what you will.
- BOTTOM. I will discharge it in either your straw-colour beard, your
- orange-tawny beard, your purple-in-grain beard, or your
- French-crown-colour beard, your perfect yellow.
- QUINCE. Some of your French crowns have no hair at all, and then
- you will play bare-fac'd. But, masters, here are your parts; and
- I am to entreat you, request you, and desire you, to con them by
- to-morrow night; and meet me in the palace wood, a mile without
- the town, by moonlight; there will we rehearse; for if we meet in
- the city, we shall be dogg'd with company, and our devices known.
- In the meantime I will draw a bill of properties, such as our
- play wants. I pray you, fail me not.
- BOTTOM. We will meet; and there we may rehearse most obscenely and
- courageously. Take pains; be perfect; adieu.
- QUINCE. At the Duke's oak we meet.
- BOTTOM. Enough; hold, or cut bow-strings. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT II. SCENE I.
-A wood near Athens
-
-Enter a FAIRY at One door, and PUCK at another
-
- PUCK. How now, spirit! whither wander you?
- FAIRY. Over hill, over dale,
- Thorough bush, thorough brier,
- Over park, over pale,
- Thorough flood, thorough fire,
- I do wander every where,
- Swifter than the moon's sphere;
- And I serve the Fairy Queen,
- To dew her orbs upon the green.
- The cowslips tall her pensioners be;
- In their gold coats spots you see;
- Those be rubies, fairy favours,
- In those freckles live their savours.
-
- I must go seek some dewdrops here,
- And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear.
- Farewell, thou lob of spirits; I'll be gone.
- Our Queen and all her elves come here anon.
- PUCK. The King doth keep his revels here to-night;
- Take heed the Queen come not within his sight;
- For Oberon is passing fell and wrath,
- Because that she as her attendant hath
- A lovely boy, stolen from an Indian king.
- She never had so sweet a changeling;
- And jealous Oberon would have the child
- Knight of his train, to trace the forests wild;
- But she perforce withholds the loved boy,
- Crowns him with flowers, and makes him all her joy.
- And now they never meet in grove or green,
- By fountain clear, or spangled starlight sheen,
- But they do square, that all their elves for fear
- Creep into acorn cups and hide them there.
- FAIRY. Either I mistake your shape and making quite,
- Or else you are that shrewd and knavish sprite
- Call'd Robin Goodfellow. Are not you he
- That frights the maidens of the villagery,
- Skim milk, and sometimes labour in the quern,
- And bootless make the breathless housewife churn,
- And sometime make the drink to bear no barm,
- Mislead night-wanderers, laughing at their harm?
- Those that Hobgoblin call you, and sweet Puck,
- You do their work, and they shall have good luck.
- Are not you he?
- PUCK. Thou speakest aright:
- I am that merry wanderer of the night.
- I jest to Oberon, and make him smile
- When I a fat and bean-fed horse beguile,
- Neighing in likeness of a filly foal;
- And sometime lurk I in a gossip's bowl
- In very likeness of a roasted crab,
- And, when she drinks, against her lips I bob,
- And on her withered dewlap pour the ale.
- The wisest aunt, telling the saddest tale,
- Sometime for three-foot stool mistaketh me;
- Then slip I from her bum, down topples she,
- And 'tailor' cries, and falls into a cough;
- And then the whole quire hold their hips and laugh,
- And waxen in their mirth, and neeze, and swear
- A merrier hour was never wasted there.
- But room, fairy, here comes Oberon.
- FAIRY. And here my mistress. Would that he were gone!
-
- Enter OBERON at one door, with his TRAIN, and TITANIA,
- at another, with hers
-
- OBERON. Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania.
- TITANIA. What, jealous Oberon! Fairies, skip hence;
- I have forsworn his bed and company.
- OBERON. Tarry, rash wanton; am not I thy lord?
- TITANIA. Then I must be thy lady; but I know
- When thou hast stolen away from fairy land,
- And in the shape of Corin sat all day,
- Playing on pipes of corn, and versing love
- To amorous Phillida. Why art thou here,
- Come from the farthest steep of India,
- But that, forsooth, the bouncing Amazon,
- Your buskin'd mistress and your warrior love,
- To Theseus must be wedded, and you come
- To give their bed joy and prosperity?
- OBERON. How canst thou thus, for shame, Titania,
- Glance at my credit with Hippolyta,
- Knowing I know thy love to Theseus?
- Didst not thou lead him through the glimmering night
- From Perigouna, whom he ravished?
- And make him with fair Aegles break his faith,
- With Ariadne and Antiopa?
- TITANIA. These are the forgeries of jealousy;
- And never, since the middle summer's spring,
- Met we on hill, in dale, forest, or mead,
- By paved fountain, or by rushy brook,
- Or in the beached margent of the sea,
- To dance our ringlets to the whistling wind,
- But with thy brawls thou hast disturb'd our sport.
- Therefore the winds, piping to us in vain,
- As in revenge, have suck'd up from the sea
- Contagious fogs; which, falling in the land,
- Hath every pelting river made so proud
- That they have overborne their continents.
- The ox hath therefore stretch'd his yoke in vain,
- The ploughman lost his sweat, and the green corn
- Hath rotted ere his youth attain'd a beard;
- The fold stands empty in the drowned field,
- And crows are fatted with the murrion flock;
- The nine men's morris is fill'd up with mud,
- And the quaint mazes in the wanton green,
- For lack of tread, are undistinguishable.
- The human mortals want their winter here;
- No night is now with hymn or carol blest;
- Therefore the moon, the governess of floods,
- Pale in her anger, washes all the air,
- That rheumatic diseases do abound.
- And thorough this distemperature we see
- The seasons alter: hoary-headed frosts
- Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson rose;
- And on old Hiems' thin and icy crown
- An odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds
- Is, as in mockery, set. The spring, the summer,
- The childing autumn, angry winter, change
- Their wonted liveries; and the mazed world,
- By their increase, now knows not which is which.
- And this same progeny of evils comes
- From our debate, from our dissension;
- We are their parents and original.
- OBERON. Do you amend it, then; it lies in you.
- Why should Titania cross her Oberon?
- I do but beg a little changeling boy
- To be my henchman.
- TITANIA. Set your heart at rest;
- The fairy land buys not the child of me.
- His mother was a vot'ress of my order;
- And, in the spiced Indian air, by night,
- Full often hath she gossip'd by my side;
- And sat with me on Neptune's yellow sands,
- Marking th' embarked traders on the flood;
- When we have laugh'd to see the sails conceive,
- And grow big-bellied with the wanton wind;
- Which she, with pretty and with swimming gait
- Following- her womb then rich with my young squire-
- Would imitate, and sail upon the land,
- To fetch me trifles, and return again,
- As from a voyage, rich with merchandise.
- But she, being mortal, of that boy did die;
- And for her sake do I rear up her boy;
- And for her sake I will not part with him.
- OBERON. How long within this wood intend you stay?
- TITANIA. Perchance till after Theseus' wedding-day.
- If you will patiently dance in our round,
- And see our moonlight revels, go with us;
- If not, shun me, and I will spare your haunts.
- OBERON. Give me that boy and I will go with thee.
- TITANIA. Not for thy fairy kingdom. Fairies, away.
- We shall chide downright if I longer stay.
- Exit TITANIA with her train
- OBERON. Well, go thy way; thou shalt not from this grove
- Till I torment thee for this injury.
- My gentle Puck, come hither. Thou rememb'rest
- Since once I sat upon a promontory,
- And heard a mermaid on a dolphin's back
- Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath
- That the rude sea grew civil at her song,
- And certain stars shot madly from their spheres
- To hear the sea-maid's music.
- PUCK. I remember.
- OBERON. That very time I saw, but thou couldst not,
- Flying between the cold moon and the earth
- Cupid, all arm'd; a certain aim he took
- At a fair vestal, throned by the west,
- And loos'd his love-shaft smartly from his bow,
- As it should pierce a hundred thousand hearts;
- But I might see young Cupid's fiery shaft
- Quench'd in the chaste beams of the wat'ry moon;
- And the imperial vot'ress passed on,
- In maiden meditation, fancy-free.
- Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Cupid fell.
- It fell upon a little western flower,
- Before milk-white, now purple with love's wound,
- And maidens call it Love-in-idleness.
- Fetch me that flow'r, the herb I showed thee once.
- The juice of it on sleeping eyelids laid
- Will make or man or woman madly dote
- Upon the next live creature that it sees.
- Fetch me this herb, and be thou here again
- Ere the leviathan can swim a league.
- PUCK. I'll put a girdle round about the earth
- In forty minutes. Exit PUCK
- OBERON. Having once this juice,
- I'll watch Titania when she is asleep,
- And drop the liquor of it in her eyes;
- The next thing then she waking looks upon,
- Be it on lion, bear, or wolf, or bull,
- On meddling monkey, or on busy ape,
- She shall pursue it with the soul of love.
- And ere I take this charm from off her sight,
- As I can take it with another herb,
- I'll make her render up her page to me.
- But who comes here? I am invisible;
- And I will overhear their conference.
-
- Enter DEMETRIUS, HELENA following him
-
- DEMETRIUS. I love thee not, therefore pursue me not.
- Where is Lysander and fair Hermia?
- The one I'll slay, the other slayeth me.
- Thou told'st me they were stol'n unto this wood,
- And here am I, and wood within this wood,
- Because I cannot meet my Hermia.
- Hence, get thee gone, and follow me no more.
- HELENA. You draw me, you hard-hearted adamant;
- But yet you draw not iron, for my heart
- Is true as steel. Leave you your power to draw,
- And I shall have no power to follow you.
- DEMETRIUS. Do I entice you? Do I speak you fair?
- Or, rather, do I not in plainest truth
- Tell you I do not nor I cannot love you?
- HELENA. And even for that do I love you the more.
- I am your spaniel; and, Demetrius,
- The more you beat me, I will fawn on you.
- Use me but as your spaniel, spurn me, strike me,
- Neglect me, lose me; only give me leave,
- Unworthy as I am, to follow you.
- What worser place can I beg in your love,
- And yet a place of high respect with me,
- Than to be used as you use your dog?
- DEMETRIUS. Tempt not too much the hatred of my spirit;
- For I am sick when I do look on thee.
- HELENA. And I am sick when I look not on you.
- DEMETRIUS. You do impeach your modesty too much
- To leave the city and commit yourself
- Into the hands of one that loves you not;
- To trust the opportunity of night,
- And the ill counsel of a desert place,
- With the rich worth of your virginity.
- HELENA. Your virtue is my privilege for that:
- It is not night when I do see your face,
- Therefore I think I am not in the night;
- Nor doth this wood lack worlds of company,
- For you, in my respect, are all the world.
- Then how can it be said I am alone
- When all the world is here to look on me?
- DEMETRIUS. I'll run from thee and hide me in the brakes,
- And leave thee to the mercy of wild beasts.
- HELENA. The wildest hath not such a heart as you.
- Run when you will; the story shall be chang'd:
- Apollo flies, and Daphne holds the chase;
- The dove pursues the griffin; the mild hind
- Makes speed to catch the tiger- bootless speed,
- When cowardice pursues and valour flies.
- DEMETRIUS. I will not stay thy questions; let me go;
- Or, if thou follow me, do not believe
- But I shall do thee mischief in the wood.
- HELENA. Ay, in the temple, in the town, the field,
- You do me mischief. Fie, Demetrius!
- Your wrongs do set a scandal on my sex.
- We cannot fight for love as men may do;
- We should be woo'd, and were not made to woo.
- Exit DEMETRIUS
- I'll follow thee, and make a heaven of hell,
- To die upon the hand I love so well. Exit HELENA
- OBERON. Fare thee well, nymph; ere he do leave this grove,
- Thou shalt fly him, and he shall seek thy love.
-
- Re-enter PUCK
-
- Hast thou the flower there? Welcome, wanderer.
- PUCK. Ay, there it is.
- OBERON. I pray thee give it me.
- I know a bank where the wild thyme blows,
- Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows,
- Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine,
- With sweet musk-roses, and with eglantine;
- There sleeps Titania sometime of the night,
- Lull'd in these flowers with dances and delight;
- And there the snake throws her enamell'd skin,
- Weed wide enough to wrap a fairy in;
- And with the juice of this I'll streak her eyes,
- And make her full of hateful fantasies.
- Take thou some of it, and seek through this grove:
- A sweet Athenian lady is in love
- With a disdainful youth; anoint his eyes;
- But do it when the next thing he espies
- May be the lady. Thou shalt know the man
- By the Athenian garments he hath on.
- Effect it with some care, that he may prove
- More fond on her than she upon her love.
- And look thou meet me ere the first cock crow.
- PUCK. Fear not, my lord; your servant shall do so. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-Another part of the wood
-
-Enter TITANIA, with her train
-
- TITANIA. Come now, a roundel and a fairy song;
- Then, for the third part of a minute, hence:
- Some to kill cankers in the musk-rose buds;
- Some war with rere-mice for their leathern wings,
- To make my small elves coats; and some keep back
- The clamorous owl that nightly hoots and wonders
- At our quaint spirits. Sing me now asleep;
- Then to your offices, and let me rest.
-
- The FAIRIES Sing
-
- FIRST FAIRY. You spotted snakes with double tongue,
- Thorny hedgehogs, be not seen;
- Newts and blind-worms, do no wrong,
- Come not near our fairy Queen.
- CHORUS. Philomel with melody
- Sing in our sweet lullaby.
- Lulla, lulla, lullaby; lulla, lulla, lullaby.
- Never harm
- Nor spell nor charm
- Come our lovely lady nigh.
- So good night, with lullaby.
- SECOND FAIRY. Weaving spiders, come not here;
- Hence, you long-legg'd spinners, hence.
- Beetles black, approach not near;
- Worm nor snail do no offence.
- CHORUS. Philomel with melody, etc. [TITANIA Sleeps]
- FIRST FAIRY. Hence away; now all is well.
- One aloof stand sentinel. Exeunt FAIRIES
-
- Enter OBERON and squeezes the flower on TITANIA'S eyelids
-
- OBERON. What thou seest when thou dost wake,
- Do it for thy true-love take;
- Love and languish for his sake.
- Be it ounce, or cat, or bear,
- Pard, or boar with bristled hair,
- In thy eye that shall appear
- When thou wak'st, it is thy dear.
- Wake when some vile thing is near. Exit
-
- Enter LYSANDER and HERMIA
-
- LYSANDER. Fair love, you faint with wand'ring in the wood;
- And, to speak troth, I have forgot our way;
- We'll rest us, Hermia, if you think it good,
- And tarry for the comfort of the day.
- HERMIA. Be it so, Lysander: find you out a bed,
- For I upon this bank will rest my head.
- LYSANDER. One turf shall serve as pillow for us both;
- One heart, one bed, two bosoms, and one troth.
- HERMIA. Nay, good Lysander; for my sake, my dear,
- Lie further off yet; do not lie so near.
- LYSANDER. O, take the sense, sweet, of my innocence!
- Love takes the meaning in love's conference.
- I mean that my heart unto yours is knit,
- So that but one heart we can make of it;
- Two bosoms interchained with an oath,
- So then two bosoms and a single troth.
- Then by your side no bed-room me deny,
- For lying so, Hermia, I do not lie.
- HERMIA. Lysander riddles very prettily.
- Now much beshrew my manners and my pride,
- If Hermia meant to say Lysander lied!
- But, gentle friend, for love and courtesy
- Lie further off, in human modesty;
- Such separation as may well be said
- Becomes a virtuous bachelor and a maid,
- So far be distant; and good night, sweet friend.
- Thy love ne'er alter till thy sweet life end!
- LYSANDER. Amen, amen, to that fair prayer say I;
- And then end life when I end loyalty!
- Here is my bed; sleep give thee all his rest!
- HERMIA. With half that wish the wisher's eyes be press'd!
- [They sleep]
-
- Enter PUCK
-
- PUCK. Through the forest have I gone,
- But Athenian found I none
- On whose eyes I might approve
- This flower's force in stirring love.
- Night and silence- Who is here?
- Weeds of Athens he doth wear:
- This is he, my master said,
- Despised the Athenian maid;
- And here the maiden, sleeping sound,
- On the dank and dirty ground.
- Pretty soul! she durst not lie
- Near this lack-love, this kill-courtesy.
- Churl, upon thy eyes I throw
- All the power this charm doth owe:
- When thou wak'st let love forbid
- Sleep his seat on thy eyelid.
- So awake when I am gone;
- For I must now to Oberon. Exit
-
- Enter DEMETRIUS and HELENA, running
-
- HELENA. Stay, though thou kill me, sweet Demetrius.
- DEMETRIUS. I charge thee, hence, and do not haunt me thus.
- HELENA. O, wilt thou darkling leave me? Do not so.
- DEMETRIUS. Stay on thy peril; I alone will go. Exit
- HELENA. O, I am out of breath in this fond chase!
- The more my prayer, the lesser is my grace.
- Happy is Hermia, wheresoe'er she lies,
- For she hath blessed and attractive eyes.
- How came her eyes so bright? Not with salt tears;
- If so, my eyes are oft'ner wash'd than hers.
- No, no, I am as ugly as a bear,
- For beasts that meet me run away for fear;
- Therefore no marvel though Demetrius
- Do, as a monster, fly my presence thus.
- What wicked and dissembling glass of mine
- Made me compare with Hermia's sphery eyne?
- But who is here? Lysander! on the ground!
- Dead, or asleep? I see no blood, no wound.
- Lysander, if you live, good sir, awake.
- LYSANDER. [Waking] And run through fire I will for thy sweet sake.
- Transparent Helena! Nature shows art,
- That through thy bosom makes me see thy heart.
- Where is Demetrius? O, how fit a word
- Is that vile name to perish on my sword!
- HELENA. Do not say so, Lysander; say not so.
- What though he love your Hermia? Lord, what though?
- Yet Hermia still loves you; then be content.
- LYSANDER. Content with Hermia! No: I do repent
- The tedious minutes I with her have spent.
- Not Hermia but Helena I love:
- Who will not change a raven for a dove?
- The will of man is by his reason sway'd,
- And reason says you are the worthier maid.
- Things growing are not ripe until their season;
- So I, being young, till now ripe not to reason;
- And touching now the point of human skill,
- Reason becomes the marshal to my will,
- And leads me to your eyes, where I o'erlook
- Love's stories, written in Love's richest book.
- HELENA. Wherefore was I to this keen mockery born?
- When at your hands did I deserve this scorn?
- Is't not enough, is't not enough, young man,
- That I did never, no, nor never can,
- Deserve a sweet look from Demetrius' eye,
- But you must flout my insufficiency?
- Good troth, you do me wrong, good sooth, you do,
- In such disdainful manner me to woo.
- But fare you well; perforce I must confess
- I thought you lord of more true gentleness.
- O, that a lady of one man refus'd
- Should of another therefore be abus'd! Exit
- LYSANDER. She sees not Hermia. Hermia, sleep thou there;
- And never mayst thou come Lysander near!
- For, as a surfeit of the sweetest things
- The deepest loathing to the stomach brings,
- Or as the heresies that men do leave
- Are hated most of those they did deceive,
- So thou, my surfeit and my heresy,
- Of all be hated, but the most of me!
- And, all my powers, address your love and might
- To honour Helen, and to be her knight! Exit
- HERMIA. [Starting] Help me, Lysander, help me; do thy best
- To pluck this crawling serpent from my breast.
- Ay me, for pity! What a dream was here!
- Lysander, look how I do quake with fear.
- Methought a serpent eat my heart away,
- And you sat smiling at his cruel prey.
- Lysander! What, remov'd? Lysander! lord!
- What, out of hearing gone? No sound, no word?
- Alack, where are you? Speak, an if you hear;
- Speak, of all loves! I swoon almost with fear.
- No? Then I well perceive you are not nigh.
- Either death or you I'll find immediately. Exit
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT III. SCENE I.
-The wood. TITANIA lying asleep
-
-Enter QUINCE, SNUG, BOTTOM, FLUTE, SNOUT, and STARVELING
-
- BOTTOM. Are we all met?
- QUINCE. Pat, pat; and here's a marvellous convenient place for our
- rehearsal. This green plot shall be our stage, this hawthorn
- brake our tiring-house; and we will do it in action, as we will
- do it before the Duke.
- BOTTOM. Peter Quince!
- QUINCE. What sayest thou, bully Bottom?
- BOTTOM. There are things in this comedy of Pyramus and Thisby that
- will never please. First, Pyramus must draw a sword to kill
- himself; which the ladies cannot abide. How answer you that?
- SNOUT. By'r lakin, a parlous fear.
- STARVELING. I believe we must leave the killing out, when all is
- done.
- BOTTOM. Not a whit; I have a device to make all well. Write me a
- prologue; and let the prologue seem to say we will do no harm
- with our swords, and that Pyramus is not kill'd indeed; and for
- the more better assurance, tell them that I Pyramus am not
- Pyramus but Bottom the weaver. This will put them out of fear.
- QUINCE. Well, we will have such a prologue; and it shall be written
- in eight and six.
- BOTTOM. No, make it two more; let it be written in eight and eight.
- SNOUT. Will not the ladies be afeard of the lion?
- STARVELING. I fear it, I promise you.
- BOTTOM. Masters, you ought to consider with yourself to bring in-
- God shield us!- a lion among ladies is a most dreadful thing; for
- there is not a more fearful wild-fowl than your lion living; and
- we ought to look to't.
- SNOUT. Therefore another prologue must tell he is not a lion.
- BOTTOM. Nay, you must name his name, and half his face must be seen
- through the lion's neck; and he himself must speak through,
- saying thus, or to the same defect: 'Ladies,' or 'Fair ladies, I
- would wish you' or 'I would request you' or 'I would entreat you
- not to fear, not to tremble. My life for yours! If you think I
- come hither as a lion, it were pity of my life. No, I am no such
- thing; I am a man as other men are.' And there, indeed, let him
- name his name, and tell them plainly he is Snug the joiner.
- QUINCE. Well, it shall be so. But there is two hard things- that
- is, to bring the moonlight into a chamber; for, you know, Pyramus
- and Thisby meet by moonlight.
- SNOUT. Doth the moon shine that night we play our play?
- BOTTOM. A calendar, a calendar! Look in the almanack; find out
- moonshine, find out moonshine.
- QUINCE. Yes, it doth shine that night.
- BOTTOM. Why, then may you leave a casement of the great chamber
- window, where we play, open; and the moon may shine in at the
- casement.
- QUINCE. Ay; or else one must come in with a bush of thorns and a
- lantern, and say he comes to disfigure or to present the person
- of Moonshine. Then there is another thing: we must have a wall in
- the great chamber; for Pyramus and Thisby, says the story, did
- talk through the chink of a wall.
- SNOUT. You can never bring in a wall. What say you, Bottom?
- BOTTOM. Some man or other must present Wall; and let him have some
- plaster, or some loam, or some rough-cast about him, to signify
- wall; and let him hold his fingers thus, and through that cranny
- shall Pyramus and Thisby whisper.
- QUINCE. If that may be, then all is well. Come, sit down, every
- mother's son, and rehearse your parts. Pyramus, you begin; when
- you have spoken your speech, enter into that brake; and so every
- one according to his cue.
-
- Enter PUCK behind
-
- PUCK. What hempen homespuns have we swagg'ring here,
- So near the cradle of the Fairy Queen?
- What, a play toward! I'll be an auditor;
- An actor too perhaps, if I see cause.
- QUINCE. Speak, Pyramus. Thisby, stand forth.
- BOTTOM. Thisby, the flowers of odious savours sweet-
- QUINCE. 'Odious'- odorous!
- BOTTOM. -odours savours sweet;
- So hath thy breath, my dearest Thisby dear.
- But hark, a voice! Stay thou but here awhile,
- And by and by I will to thee appear. Exit
- PUCK. A stranger Pyramus than e'er played here! Exit
- FLUTE. Must I speak now?
- QUINCE. Ay, marry, must you; for you must understand he goes but to
- see a noise that he heard, and is to come again.
- FLUTE. Most radiant Pyramus, most lily-white of hue,
- Of colour like the red rose on triumphant brier,
- Most brisky juvenal, and eke most lovely Jew,
- As true as truest horse, that would never tire,
- I'll meet thee, Pyramus, at Ninny's tomb.
- QUINCE. 'Ninus' tomb,' man! Why, you must not speak that yet; that
- you answer to Pyramus. You speak all your part at once, cues, and
- all. Pyramus enter: your cue is past; it is 'never tire.'
- FLUTE. O- As true as truest horse, that y et would never tire.
-
- Re-enter PUCK, and BOTTOM with an ass's head
-
- BOTTOM. If I were fair, Thisby, I were only thine.
- QUINCE. O monstrous! O strange! We are haunted. Pray, masters! fly,
- masters! Help!
- Exeunt all but BOTTOM and PUCK
- PUCK. I'll follow you; I'll lead you about a round,
- Through bog, through bush, through brake, through brier;
- Sometime a horse I'll be, sometime a hound,
- A hog, a headless bear, sometime a fire;
- And neigh, and bark, and grunt, and roar, and burn,
- Like horse, hound, hog, bear, fire, at every turn.
-Exit
- BOTTOM. Why do they run away? This is a knavery of them to make me
- afeard.
-
- Re-enter SNOUT
-
- SNOUT. O Bottom, thou art chang'd! What do I see on thee?
- BOTTOM. What do you see? You see an ass-head of your own, do you?
- Exit SNOUT
-
- Re-enter QUINCE
-
- QUINCE. Bless thee, Bottom, bless thee! Thou art translated.
- Exit
- BOTTOM. I see their knavery: this is to make an ass of me; to
- fright me, if they could. But I will not stir from this place, do
- what they can; I will walk up and down here, and will sing, that
- they shall hear I am not afraid. [Sings]
-
- The ousel cock, so black of hue,
- With orange-tawny bill,
- The throstle with his note so true,
- The wren with little quill.
-
- TITANIA. What angel wakes me from my flow'ry bed?
- BOTTOM. [Sings]
- The finch, the sparrow, and the lark,
- The plain-song cuckoo grey,
- Whose note full many a man doth mark,
- And dares not answer nay-
- for, indeed, who would set his wit to so foolish a bird?
- Who would give a bird the he, though he cry 'cuckoo' never so?
- TITANIA. I pray thee, gentle mortal, sing again.
- Mine ear is much enamoured of thy note;
- So is mine eye enthralled to thy shape;
- And thy fair virtue's force perforce doth move me,
- On the first view, to say, to swear, I love thee.
- BOTTOM. Methinks, mistress, you should have little reason for that.
- And yet, to say the truth, reason and love keep little company
- together now-a-days. The more the pity that some honest
- neighbours will not make them friends. Nay, I can gleek upon
- occasion.
- TITANIA. Thou art as wise as thou art beautiful.
- BOTTOM. Not so, neither; but if I had wit enough to get out of this
- wood, I have enough to serve mine own turn.
- TITANIA. Out of this wood do not desire to go;
- Thou shalt remain here whether thou wilt or no.
- I am a spirit of no common rate;
- The summer still doth tend upon my state;
- And I do love thee; therefore, go with me.
- I'll give thee fairies to attend on thee;
- And they shall fetch thee jewels from the deep,
- And sing, while thou on pressed flowers dost sleep;
- And I will purge thy mortal grossness so
- That thou shalt like an airy spirit go.
- Peaseblossom! Cobweb! Moth! and Mustardseed!
-
- Enter PEASEBLOSSOM, COBWEB, MOTH, and MUSTARDSEED
-
- PEASEBLOSSOM. Ready.
- COBWEB. And I.
- MOTH. And I.
- MUSTARDSEED. And I.
- ALL. Where shall we go?
- TITANIA. Be kind and courteous to this gentleman;
- Hop in his walks and gambol in his eyes;
- Feed him with apricocks and dewberries,
- With purple grapes, green figs, and mulberries;
- The honey bags steal from the humble-bees,
- And for night-tapers crop their waxen thighs,
- And light them at the fiery glow-worm's eyes,
- To have my love to bed and to arise;
- And pluck the wings from painted butterflies,
- To fan the moonbeams from his sleeping eyes.
- Nod to him, elves, and do him courtesies.
- PEASEBLOSSOM. Hail, mortal!
- COBWEB. Hail!
- MOTH. Hail!
- MUSTARDSEED. Hail!
- BOTTOM. I cry your worships mercy, heartily; I beseech your
- worship's name.
- COBWEB. Cobweb.
- BOTTOM. I shall desire you of more acquaintance, good Master
- Cobweb. If I cut my finger, I shall make bold with you. Your
- name, honest gentleman?
- PEASEBLOSSOM. Peaseblossom.
- BOTTOM. I pray you, commend me to Mistress Squash, your mother, and
- to Master Peascod, your father. Good Master Peaseblossom, I shall
- desire you of more acquaintance too. Your name, I beseech you,
- sir?
- MUSTARDSEED. Mustardseed.
- BOTTOM. Good Master Mustardseed, I know your patience well. That
- same cowardly giant-like ox-beef hath devour'd many a gentleman
- of your house. I promise you your kindred hath made my eyes water
- ere now. I desire you of more acquaintance, good Master
- Mustardseed.
- TITANIA. Come, wait upon him; lead him to my bower.
- The moon, methinks, looks with a wat'ry eye;
- And when she weeps, weeps every little flower;
- Lamenting some enforced chastity.
- Tie up my love's tongue, bring him silently. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-Another part of the wood
-
-Enter OBERON
-
- OBERON. I wonder if Titania be awak'd;
- Then, what it was that next came in her eye,
- Which she must dote on in extremity.
-
- Enter PUCK
-
- Here comes my messenger. How now, mad spirit!
- What night-rule now about this haunted grove?
- PUCK. My mistress with a monster is in love.
- Near to her close and consecrated bower,
- While she was in her dull and sleeping hour,
- A crew of patches, rude mechanicals,
- That work for bread upon Athenian stalls,
- Were met together to rehearse a play
- Intended for great Theseus' nuptial day.
- The shallowest thickskin of that barren sort,
- Who Pyramus presented, in their sport
- Forsook his scene and ent'red in a brake;
- When I did him at this advantage take,
- An ass's nole I fixed on his head.
- Anon his Thisby must be answered,
- And forth my mimic comes. When they him spy,
- As wild geese that the creeping fowler eye,
- Or russet-pated choughs, many in sort,
- Rising and cawing at the gun's report,
- Sever themselves and madly sweep the sky,
- So at his sight away his fellows fly;
- And at our stamp here, o'er and o'er one falls;
- He murder cries, and help from Athens calls.
- Their sense thus weak, lost with their fears thus strong,
- Made senseless things begin to do them wrong,
- For briers and thorns at their apparel snatch;
- Some sleeves, some hats, from yielders all things catch.
- I led them on in this distracted fear,
- And left sweet Pyramus translated there;
- When in that moment, so it came to pass,
- Titania wak'd, and straightway lov'd an ass.
- OBERON. This falls out better than I could devise.
- But hast thou yet latch'd the Athenian's eyes
- With the love-juice, as I did bid thee do?
- PUCK. I took him sleeping- that is finish'd too-
- And the Athenian woman by his side;
- That, when he wak'd, of force she must be ey'd.
-
- Enter DEMETRIUS and HERMIA
-
- OBERON. Stand close; this is the same Athenian.
- PUCK. This is the woman, but not this the man.
- DEMETRIUS. O, why rebuke you him that loves you so?
- Lay breath so bitter on your bitter foe.
- HERMIA. Now I but chide, but I should use thee worse,
- For thou, I fear, hast given me cause to curse.
- If thou hast slain Lysander in his sleep,
- Being o'er shoes in blood, plunge in the deep,
- And kill me too.
- The sun was not so true unto the day
- As he to me. Would he have stolen away
- From sleeping Hermia? I'll believe as soon
- This whole earth may be bor'd, and that the moon
- May through the centre creep and so displease
- Her brother's noontide with th' Antipodes.
- It cannot be but thou hast murd'red him;
- So should a murderer look- so dead, so grim.
- DEMETRIUS. So should the murdered look; and so should I,
- Pierc'd through the heart with your stern cruelty;
- Yet you, the murderer, look as bright, as clear,
- As yonder Venus in her glimmering sphere.
- HERMIA. What's this to my Lysander? Where is he?
- Ah, good Demetrius, wilt thou give him me?
- DEMETRIUS. I had rather give his carcass to my hounds.
- HERMIA. Out, dog! out, cur! Thou driv'st me past the bounds
- Of maiden's patience. Hast thou slain him, then?
- Henceforth be never numb'red among men!
- O, once tell true; tell true, even for my sake!
- Durst thou have look'd upon him being awake,
- And hast thou kill'd him sleeping? O brave touch!
- Could not a worm, an adder, do so much?
- An adder did it; for with doubler tongue
- Than thine, thou serpent, never adder stung.
- DEMETRIUS. You spend your passion on a mispris'd mood:
- I am not guilty of Lysander's blood;
- Nor is he dead, for aught that I can tell.
- HERMIA. I pray thee, tell me then that he is well.
- DEMETRIUS. An if I could, what should I get therefore?
- HERMIA. A privilege never to see me more.
- And from thy hated presence part I so;
- See me no more whether he be dead or no. Exit
- DEMETRIUS. There is no following her in this fierce vein;
- Here, therefore, for a while I will remain.
- So sorrow's heaviness doth heavier grow
- For debt that bankrupt sleep doth sorrow owe;
- Which now in some slight measure it will pay,
- If for his tender here I make some stay. [Lies down]
- OBERON. What hast thou done? Thou hast mistaken quite,
- And laid the love-juice on some true-love's sight.
- Of thy misprision must perforce ensue
- Some true love turn'd, and not a false turn'd true.
- PUCK. Then fate o'er-rules, that, one man holding troth,
- A million fail, confounding oath on oath.
- OBERON. About the wood go swifter than the wind,
- And Helena of Athens look thou find;
- All fancy-sick she is and pale of cheer,
- With sighs of love that costs the fresh blood dear.
- By some illusion see thou bring her here;
- I'll charm his eyes against she do appear.
- PUCK. I go, I go; look how I go,
- Swifter than arrow from the Tartar's bow. Exit
- OBERON. Flower of this purple dye,
- Hit with Cupid's archery,
- Sink in apple of his eye.
- When his love he doth espy,
- Let her shine as gloriously
- As the Venus of the sky.
- When thou wak'st, if she be by,
- Beg of her for remedy.
-
- Re-enter PUCK
-
- PUCK. Captain of our fairy band,
- Helena is here at hand,
- And the youth mistook by me
- Pleading for a lover's fee;
- Shall we their fond pageant see?
- Lord, what fools these mortals be!
- OBERON. Stand aside. The noise they make
- Will cause Demetrius to awake.
- PUCK. Then will two at once woo one.
- That must needs be sport alone;
- And those things do best please me
- That befall prepost'rously.
-
- Enter LYSANDER and HELENA
-
- LYSANDER. Why should you think that I should woo in scorn?
- Scorn and derision never come in tears.
- Look when I vow, I weep; and vows so born,
- In their nativity all truth appears.
- How can these things in me seem scorn to you,
- Bearing the badge of faith, to prove them true?
- HELENA. You do advance your cunning more and more.
- When truth kills truth, O devilish-holy fray!
- These vows are Hermia's. Will you give her o'er?
- Weigh oath with oath, and you will nothing weigh:
- Your vows to her and me, put in two scales,
- Will even weigh; and both as light as tales.
- LYSANDER. I hod no judgment when to her I swore.
- HELENA. Nor none, in my mind, now you give her o'er.
- LYSANDER. Demetrius loves her, and he loves not you.
- DEMETRIUS. [Awaking] O Helen, goddess, nymph, perfect, divine!
- To what, my love, shall I compare thine eyne?
- Crystal is muddy. O, how ripe in show
- Thy lips, those kissing cherries, tempting grow!
- That pure congealed white, high Taurus' snow,
- Fann'd with the eastern wind, turns to a crow
- When thou hold'st up thy hand. O, let me kiss
- This princess of pure white, this seal of bliss!
- HELENA. O spite! O hell! I see you all are bent
- To set against me for your merriment.
- If you were civil and knew courtesy,
- You would not do me thus much injury.
- Can you not hate me, as I know you do,
- But you must join in souls to mock me too?
- If you were men, as men you are in show,
- You would not use a gentle lady so:
- To vow, and swear, and superpraise my parts,
- When I am sure you hate me with your hearts.
- You both are rivals, and love Hermia;
- And now both rivals, to mock Helena.
- A trim exploit, a manly enterprise,
- To conjure tears up in a poor maid's eyes
- With your derision! None of noble sort
- Would so offend a virgin, and extort
- A poor soul's patience, all to make you sport.
- LYSANDER. You are unkind, Demetrius; be not so;
- For you love Hermia. This you know I know;
- And here, with all good will, with all my heart,
- In Hermia's love I yield you up my part;
- And yours of Helena to me bequeath,
- Whom I do love and will do till my death.
- HELENA. Never did mockers waste more idle breath.
- DEMETRIUS. Lysander, keep thy Hermia; I will none.
- If e'er I lov'd her, all that love is gone.
- My heart to her but as guest-wise sojourn'd,
- And now to Helen is it home return'd,
- There to remain.
- LYSANDER. Helen, it is not so.
- DEMETRIUS. Disparage not the faith thou dost not know,
- Lest, to thy peril, thou aby it dear.
- Look where thy love comes; yonder is thy dear.
-
- Enter HERMIA
-
- HERMIA. Dark night, that from the eye his function takes,
- The ear more quick of apprehension makes;
- Wherein it doth impair the seeing sense,
- It pays the hearing double recompense.
- Thou art not by mine eye, Lysander, found;
- Mine ear, I thank it, brought me to thy sound.
- But why unkindly didst thou leave me so?
- LYSANDER. Why should he stay whom love doth press to go?
- HERMIA. What love could press Lysander from my side?
- LYSANDER. Lysander's love, that would not let him bide-
- Fair Helena, who more engilds the night
- Than all yon fiery oes and eyes of light.
- Why seek'st thou me? Could not this make thee know
- The hate I bare thee made me leave thee so?
- HERMIA. You speak not as you think; it cannot be.
- HELENA. Lo, she is one of this confederacy!
- Now I perceive they have conjoin'd all three
- To fashion this false sport in spite of me.
- Injurious Hermia! most ungrateful maid!
- Have you conspir'd, have you with these contriv'd,
- To bait me with this foul derision?
- Is all the counsel that we two have shar'd,
- The sisters' vows, the hours that we have spent,
- When we have chid the hasty-footed time
- For parting us- O, is all forgot?
- All school-days' friendship, childhood innocence?
- We, Hermia, like two artificial gods,
- Have with our needles created both one flower,
- Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion,
- Both warbling of one song, both in one key;
- As if our hands, our sides, voices, and minds,
- Had been incorporate. So we grew together,
- Like to a double cherry, seeming parted,
- But yet an union in partition,
- Two lovely berries moulded on one stern;
- So, with two seeming bodies, but one heart;
- Two of the first, like coats in heraldry,
- Due but to one, and crowned with one crest.
- And will you rent our ancient love asunder,
- To join with men in scorning your poor friend?
- It is not friendly, 'tis not maidenly;
- Our sex, as well as I, may chide you for it,
- Though I alone do feel the injury.
- HERMIA. I am amazed at your passionate words;
- I scorn you not; it seems that you scorn me.
- HELENA. Have you not set Lysander, as in scorn,
- To follow me and praise my eyes and face?
- And made your other love, Demetrius,
- Who even but now did spurn me with his foot,
- To call me goddess, nymph, divine, and rare,
- Precious, celestial? Wherefore speaks he this
- To her he hates? And wherefore doth Lysander
- Deny your love, so rich within his soul,
- And tender me, forsooth, affection,
- But by your setting on, by your consent?
- What though I be not so in grace as you,
- So hung upon with love, so fortunate,
- But miserable most, to love unlov'd?
- This you should pity rather than despise.
- HERMIA. I understand not what you mean by this.
- HELENA. Ay, do- persever, counterfeit sad looks,
- Make mouths upon me when I turn my back,
- Wink each at other; hold the sweet jest up;
- This sport, well carried, shall be chronicled.
- If you have any pity, grace, or manners,
- You would not make me such an argument.
- But fare ye well; 'tis partly my own fault,
- Which death, or absence, soon shall remedy.
- LYSANDER. Stay, gentle Helena; hear my excuse;
- My love, my life, my soul, fair Helena!
- HELENA. O excellent!
- HERMIA. Sweet, do not scorn her so.
- DEMETRIUS. If she cannot entreat, I can compel.
- LYSANDER. Thou canst compel no more than she entreat;
- Thy threats have no more strength than her weak prayers
- Helen, I love thee, by my life I do;
- I swear by that which I will lose for thee
- To prove him false that says I love thee not.
- DEMETRIUS. I say I love thee more than he can do.
- LYSANDER. If thou say so, withdraw, and prove it too.
- DEMETRIUS. Quick, come.
- HERMIA. Lysander, whereto tends all this?
- LYSANDER. Away, you Ethiope!
- DEMETRIUS. No, no, he will
- Seem to break loose- take on as you would follow,
- But yet come not. You are a tame man; go!
- LYSANDER. Hang off, thou cat, thou burr; vile thing, let loose,
- Or I will shake thee from me like a serpent.
- HERMIA. Why are you grown so rude? What change is this,
- Sweet love?
- LYSANDER. Thy love! Out, tawny Tartar, out!
- Out, loathed med'cine! O hated potion, hence!
- HERMIA. Do you not jest?
- HELENA. Yes, sooth; and so do you.
- LYSANDER. Demetrius, I will keep my word with thee.
- DEMETRIUS. I would I had your bond; for I perceive
- A weak bond holds you; I'll not trust your word.
- LYSANDER. What, should I hurt her, strike her, kill her dead?
- Although I hate her, I'll not harm her so.
- HERMIA. What! Can you do me greater harm than hate?
- Hate me! wherefore? O me! what news, my love?
- Am not I Hermia? Are not you Lysander?
- I am as fair now as I was erewhile.
- Since night you lov'd me; yet since night you left me.
- Why then, you left me- O, the gods forbid!-
- In earnest, shall I say?
- LYSANDER. Ay, by my life!
- And never did desire to see thee more.
- Therefore be out of hope, of question, of doubt;
- Be certain, nothing truer; 'tis no jest
- That I do hate thee and love Helena.
- HERMIA. O me! you juggler! you cankerblossom!
- You thief of love! What! Have you come by night,
- And stol'n my love's heart from him?
- HELENA. Fine, i' faith!
- Have you no modesty, no maiden shame,
- No touch of bashfulness? What! Will you tear
- Impatient answers from my gentle tongue?
- Fie, fie! you counterfeit, you puppet you!
- HERMIA. 'Puppet!' why so? Ay, that way goes the game.
- Now I perceive that she hath made compare
- Between our statures; she hath urg'd her height;
- And with her personage, her tall personage,
- Her height, forsooth, she hath prevail'd with him.
- And are you grown so high in his esteem
- Because I am so dwarfish and so low?
- How low am I, thou painted maypole? Speak.
- How low am I? I am not yet so low
- But that my nails can reach unto thine eyes.
- HELENA. I pray you, though you mock me, gentlemen,
- Let her not hurt me. I was never curst;
- I have no gift at all in shrewishness;
- I am a right maid for my cowardice;
- Let her not strike me. You perhaps may think,
- Because she is something lower than myself,
- That I can match her.
- HERMIA. 'Lower' hark, again.
- HELENA. Good Hermia, do not be so bitter with me.
- I evermore did love you, Hermia,
- Did ever keep your counsels, never wrong'd you;
- Save that, in love unto Demetrius,
- I told him of your stealth unto this wood.
- He followed you; for love I followed him;
- But he hath chid me hence, and threat'ned me
- To strike me, spurn me, nay, to kill me too;
- And now, so you will let me quiet go,
- To Athens will I bear my folly back,
- And follow you no further. Let me go.
- You see how simple and how fond I am.
- HERMIA. Why, get you gone! Who is't that hinders you?
- HELENA. A foolish heart that I leave here behind.
- HERMIA. What! with Lysander?
- HELENA. With Demetrius.
- LYSANDER. Be not afraid; she shall not harm thee, Helena.
- DEMETRIUS. No, sir, she shall not, though you take her part.
- HELENA. O, when she is angry, she is keen and shrewd;
- She was a vixen when she went to school;
- And, though she be but little, she is fierce.
- HERMIA. 'Little' again! Nothing but 'low' and 'little'!
- Why will you suffer her to flout me thus?
- Let me come to her.
- LYSANDER. Get you gone, you dwarf;
- You minimus, of hind'ring knot-grass made;
- You bead, you acorn.
- DEMETRIUS. You are too officious
- In her behalf that scorns your services.
- Let her alone; speak not of Helena;
- Take not her part; for if thou dost intend
- Never so little show of love to her,
- Thou shalt aby it.
- LYSANDER. Now she holds me not.
- Now follow, if thou dar'st, to try whose right,
- Of thine or mine, is most in Helena.
- DEMETRIUS. Follow! Nay, I'll go with thee, cheek by jowl.
- Exeunt LYSANDER and DEMETRIUS
- HERMIA. You, mistress, all this coil is long of you.
- Nay, go not back.
- HELENA. I will not trust you, I;
- Nor longer stay in your curst company.
- Your hands than mine are quicker for a fray;
- My legs are longer though, to run away. Exit
- HERMIA. I am amaz'd, and know not what to say. Exit
- OBERON. This is thy negligence. Still thou mistak'st,
- Or else committ'st thy knaveries wilfully.
- PUCK. Believe me, king of shadows, I mistook.
- Did not you tell me I should know the man
- By the Athenian garments he had on?
- And so far blameless proves my enterprise
- That I have 'nointed an Athenian's eyes;
- And so far am I glad it so did sort,
- As this their jangling I esteem a sport.
- OBERON. Thou seest these lovers seek a place to fight.
- Hie therefore, Robin, overcast the night;
- The starry welkin cover thou anon
- With drooping fog as black as Acheron,
- And lead these testy rivals so astray
- As one come not within another's way.
- Like to Lysander sometime frame thy tongue,
- Then stir Demetrius up with bitter wrong;
- And sometime rail thou like Demetrius;
- And from each other look thou lead them thus,
- Till o'er their brows death-counterfeiting sleep
- With leaden legs and batty wings doth creep.
- Then crush this herb into Lysander's eye;
- Whose liquor hath this virtuous property,
- To take from thence all error with his might
- And make his eyeballs roll with wonted sight.
- When they next wake, all this derision
- Shall seem a dream and fruitless vision;
- And back to Athens shall the lovers wend
- With league whose date till death shall never end.
- Whiles I in this affair do thee employ,
- I'll to my queen, and beg her Indian boy;
- And then I will her charmed eye release
- From monster's view, and all things shall be peace.
- PUCK. My fairy lord, this must be done with haste,
- For night's swift dragons cut the clouds full fast;
- And yonder shines Aurora's harbinger,
- At whose approach ghosts, wand'ring here and there,
- Troop home to churchyards. Damned spirits all
- That in cross-ways and floods have burial,
- Already to their wormy beds are gone,
- For fear lest day should look their shames upon;
- They wilfully themselves exil'd from light,
- And must for aye consort with black-brow'd night.
- OBERON. But we are spirits of another sort:
- I with the Morning's love have oft made sport;
- And, like a forester, the groves may tread
- Even till the eastern gate, all fiery red,
- Opening on Neptune with fair blessed beams,
- Turns into yellow gold his salt green streams.
- But, notwithstanding, haste, make no delay;
- We may effect this business yet ere day. Exit OBERON
- PUCK. Up and down, up and down,
- I will lead them up and down.
- I am fear'd in field and town.
- Goblin, lead them up and down.
- Here comes one.
-
- Enter LYSANDER
-
- LYSANDER. Where art thou, proud Demetrius? Speak thou now.
- PUCK. Here, villain, drawn and ready. Where art thou?
- LYSANDER. I will be with thee straight.
- PUCK. Follow me, then,
- To plainer ground. Exit LYSANDER as following the voice
-
- Enter DEMETRIUS
-
- DEMETRIUS. Lysander, speak again.
- Thou runaway, thou coward, art thou fled?
- Speak! In some bush? Where dost thou hide thy head?
- PUCK. Thou coward, art thou bragging to the stars,
- Telling the bushes that thou look'st for wars,
- And wilt not come? Come, recreant, come, thou child;
- I'll whip thee with a rod. He is defil'd
- That draws a sword on thee.
- DEMETRIUS. Yea, art thou there?
- PUCK. Follow my voice; we'll try no manhood here. Exeunt
-
- Re-enter LYSANDER
-
- LYSANDER. He goes before me, and still dares me on;
- When I come where he calls, then he is gone.
- The villain is much lighter heel'd than I.
- I followed fast, but faster he did fly,
- That fallen am I in dark uneven way,
- And here will rest me. [Lies down] Come, thou gentle day.
- For if but once thou show me thy grey light,
- I'll find Demetrius, and revenge this spite. [Sleeps]
-
- Re-enter PUCK and DEMETRIUS
-
- PUCK. Ho, ho, ho! Coward, why com'st thou not?
- DEMETRIUS. Abide me, if thou dar'st; for well I wot
- Thou run'st before me, shifting every place,
- And dar'st not stand, nor look me in the face.
- Where art thou now?
- PUCK. Come hither; I am here.
- DEMETRIUS. Nay, then, thou mock'st me. Thou shalt buy this dear,
- If ever I thy face by daylight see;
- Now, go thy way. Faintness constraineth me
- To measure out my length on this cold bed.
- By day's approach look to be visited.
- [Lies down and sleeps]
-
- Enter HELENA
-
- HELENA. O weary night, O long and tedious night,
- Abate thy hours! Shine comforts from the east,
- That I may back to Athens by daylight,
- From these that my poor company detest.
- And sleep, that sometimes shuts up sorrow's eye,
- Steal me awhile from mine own company. [Sleeps]
- PUCK. Yet but three? Come one more;
- Two of both kinds makes up four.
- Here she comes, curst and sad.
- Cupid is a knavish lad,
- Thus to make poor females mad.
-
- Enter HERMIA
-
- HERMIA. Never so weary, never so in woe,
- Bedabbled with the dew, and torn with briers,
- I can no further crawl, no further go;
- My legs can keep no pace with my desires.
- Here will I rest me till the break of day.
- Heavens shield Lysander, if they mean a fray!
- [Lies down and sleeps]
- PUCK. On the ground
- Sleep sound;
- I'll apply
- To your eye,
- Gentle lover, remedy.
- [Squeezing the juice on LYSANDER'S eyes]
- When thou wak'st,
- Thou tak'st
- True delight
- In the sight
- Of thy former lady's eye;
- And the country proverb known,
- That every man should take his own,
- In your waking shall be shown:
- Jack shall have Jill;
- Nought shall go ill;
- The man shall have his mare again, and all shall be well.
- Exit
-
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-ACT IV. SCENE I.
-The wood. LYSANDER, DEMETRIUS, HELENA, and HERMIA, lying asleep
-
-Enter TITANIA and Bottom; PEASEBLOSSOM, COBWEB, MOTH, MUSTARDSEED,
-and other FAIRIES attending;
- OBERON behind, unseen
-
- TITANIA. Come, sit thee down upon this flow'ry bed,
- While I thy amiable cheeks do coy,
- And stick musk-roses in thy sleek smooth head,
- And kiss thy fair large ears, my gentle joy.
- BOTTOM. Where's Peaseblossom?
- PEASEBLOSSOM. Ready.
- BOTTOM. Scratch my head, Peaseblossom.
- Where's Mounsieur Cobweb?
- COBWEB. Ready.
- BOTTOM. Mounsieur Cobweb; good mounsieur, get you your weapons in
- your hand and kill me a red-hipp'd humble-bee on the top of a
- thistle; and, good mounsieur, bring me the honey-bag. Do not fret
- yourself too much in the action, mounsieur; and, good mounsieur,
- have a care the honey-bag break not; I would be loath to have you
- overflown with a honey-bag, signior. Where's Mounsieur
- Mustardseed?
- MUSTARDSEED. Ready.
- BOTTOM. Give me your neaf, Mounsieur Mustardseed. Pray you, leave
- your curtsy, good mounsieur.
- MUSTARDSEED. What's your will?
- BOTTOM. Nothing, good mounsieur, but to help Cavalery Cobweb to
- scratch. I must to the barber's, mounsieur; for methinks I am
- marvellous hairy about the face; and I am such a tender ass, if
- my hair do but tickle me I must scratch.
- TITANIA. What, wilt thou hear some music, my sweet love?
- BOTTOM. I have a reasonable good ear in music. Let's have the tongs
- and the bones.
- TITANIA. Or say, sweet love, what thou desirest to eat.
- BOTTOM. Truly, a peck of provender; I could munch your good dry
- oats. Methinks I have a great desire to a bottle of hay. Good
- hay, sweet hay, hath no fellow.
- TITANIA. I have a venturous fairy that shall seek
- The squirrel's hoard, and fetch thee new nuts.
- BOTTOM. I had rather have a handful or two of dried peas. But, I
- pray you, let none of your people stir me; I have an exposition
- of sleep come upon me.
- TITANIA. Sleep thou, and I will wind thee in my arms.
- Fairies, be gone, and be all ways away. Exeunt FAIRIES
- So doth the woodbine the sweet honeysuckle
- Gently entwist; the female ivy so
- Enrings the barky fingers of the elm.
- O, how I love thee! how I dote on thee! [They sleep]
-
- Enter PUCK
-
- OBERON. [Advancing] Welcome, good Robin. Seest thou this sweet
- sight?
- Her dotage now I do begin to pity;
- For, meeting her of late behind the wood,
- Seeking sweet favours for this hateful fool,
- I did upbraid her and fall out with her.
- For she his hairy temples then had rounded
- With coronet of fresh and fragrant flowers;
- And that same dew which sometime on the buds
- Was wont to swell like round and orient pearls
- Stood now within the pretty flowerets' eyes,
- Like tears that did their own disgrace bewail.
- When I had at my pleasure taunted her,
- And she in mild terms begg'd my patience,
- I then did ask of her her changeling child;
- Which straight she gave me, and her fairy sent
- To bear him to my bower in fairy land.
- And now I have the boy, I will undo
- This hateful imperfection of her eyes.
- And, gentle Puck, take this transformed scalp
- From off the head of this Athenian swain,
- That he awaking when the other do
- May all to Athens back again repair,
- And think no more of this night's accidents
- But as the fierce vexation of a dream.
- But first I will release the Fairy Queen.
- [Touching her eyes]
- Be as thou wast wont to be;
- See as thou was wont to see.
- Dian's bud o'er Cupid's flower
- Hath such force and blessed power.
- Now, my Titania; wake you, my sweet queen.
- TITANIA. My Oberon! What visions have I seen!
- Methought I was enamour'd of an ass.
- OBERON. There lies your love.
- TITANIA. How came these things to pass?
- O, how mine eyes do loathe his visage now!
- OBERON. Silence awhile. Robin, take off this head.
- Titania, music call; and strike more dead
- Than common sleep of all these five the sense.
- TITANIA. Music, ho, music, such as charmeth sleep!
- PUCK. Now when thou wak'st with thine own fool's eyes peep.
- OBERON. Sound, music. Come, my Queen, take hands with me,
- [Music]
- And rock the ground whereon these sleepers be.
- Now thou and I are new in amity,
- And will to-morrow midnight solemnly
- Dance in Duke Theseus' house triumphantly,
- And bless it to all fair prosperity.
- There shall the pairs of faithful lovers be
- Wedded, with Theseus, an in jollity.
- PUCK. Fairy King, attend and mark;
- I do hear the morning lark.
- OBERON. Then, my Queen, in silence sad,
- Trip we after night's shade.
- We the globe can compass soon,
- Swifter than the wand'ring moon.
- TITANIA. Come, my lord; and in our flight,
- Tell me how it came this night
- That I sleeping here was found
- With these mortals on the ground. Exeunt
-
- To the winding of horns, enter THESEUS, HIPPOLYTA,
- EGEUS, and train
-
- THESEUS. Go, one of you, find out the forester;
- For now our observation is perform'd,
- And since we have the vaward of the day,
- My love shall hear the music of my hounds.
- Uncouple in the western valley; let them go.
- Dispatch, I say, and find the forester. Exit an ATTENDANT
- We will, fair Queen, up to the mountain's top,
- And mark the musical confusion
- Of hounds and echo in conjunction.
- HIPPOLYTA. I was with Hercules and Cadmus once
- When in a wood of Crete they bay'd the bear
- With hounds of Sparta; never did I hear
- Such gallant chiding, for, besides the groves,
- The skies, the fountains, every region near
- Seem'd all one mutual cry. I never heard
- So musical a discord, such sweet thunder.
- THESEUS. My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind,
- So flew'd, so sanded; and their heads are hung
- With ears that sweep away the morning dew;
- Crook-knee'd and dew-lapp'd like Thessalian bulls;
- Slow in pursuit, but match'd in mouth like bells,
- Each under each. A cry more tuneable
- Was never holla'd to, nor cheer'd with horn,
- In Crete, in Sparta, nor in Thessaly.
- Judge when you hear. But, soft, what nymphs are these?
- EGEUS. My lord, this is my daughter here asleep,
- And this Lysander, this Demetrius is,
- This Helena, old Nedar's Helena.
- I wonder of their being here together.
- THESEUS. No doubt they rose up early to observe
- The rite of May; and, hearing our intent,
- Came here in grace of our solemnity.
- But speak, Egeus; is not this the day
- That Hermia should give answer of her choice?
- EGEUS. It is, my lord.
- THESEUS. Go, bid the huntsmen wake them with their horns.
- [Horns and shout within. The sleepers
- awake and kneel to THESEUS]
- Good-morrow, friends. Saint Valentine is past;
- Begin these wood-birds but to couple now?
- LYSANDER. Pardon, my lord.
- THESEUS. I pray you all, stand up.
- I know you two are rival enemies;
- How comes this gentle concord in the world
- That hatred is so far from jealousy
- To sleep by hate, and fear no enmity?
- LYSANDER. My lord, I shall reply amazedly,
- Half sleep, half waking; but as yet, I swear,
- I cannot truly say how I came here,
- But, as I think- for truly would I speak,
- And now I do bethink me, so it is-
- I came with Hermia hither. Our intent
- Was to be gone from Athens, where we might,
- Without the peril of the Athenian law-
- EGEUS. Enough, enough, my Lord; you have enough;
- I beg the law, the law upon his head.
- They would have stol'n away, they would, Demetrius,
- Thereby to have defeated you and me:
- You of your wife, and me of my consent,
- Of my consent that she should be your wife.
- DEMETRIUS. My lord, fair Helen told me of their stealth,
- Of this their purpose hither to this wood;
- And I in fury hither followed them,
- Fair Helena in fancy following me.
- But, my good lord, I wot not by what power-
- But by some power it is- my love to Hermia,
- Melted as the snow, seems to me now
- As the remembrance of an idle gaud
- Which in my childhood I did dote upon;
- And all the faith, the virtue of my heart,
- The object and the pleasure of mine eye,
- Is only Helena. To her, my lord,
- Was I betroth'd ere I saw Hermia.
- But, like a sickness, did I loathe this food;
- But, as in health, come to my natural taste,
- Now I do wish it, love it, long for it,
- And will for evermore be true to it.
- THESEUS. Fair lovers, you are fortunately met;
- Of this discourse we more will hear anon.
- Egeus, I will overbear your will;
- For in the temple, by and by, with us
- These couples shall eternally be knit.
- And, for the morning now is something worn,
- Our purpos'd hunting shall be set aside.
- Away with us to Athens, three and three;
- We'll hold a feast in great solemnity.
- Come, Hippolyta.
- Exeunt THESEUS, HIPPOLYTA, EGEUS, and train
- DEMETRIUS. These things seem small and undistinguishable,
- Like far-off mountains turned into clouds.
- HERMIA. Methinks I see these things with parted eye,
- When every thing seems double.
- HELENA. So methinks;
- And I have found Demetrius like a jewel,
- Mine own, and not mine own.
- DEMETRIUS. Are you sure
- That we are awake? It seems to me
- That yet we sleep, we dream. Do not you think
- The Duke was here, and bid us follow him?
- HERMIA. Yea, and my father.
- HELENA. And Hippolyta.
- LYSANDER. And he did bid us follow to the temple.
- DEMETRIUS. Why, then, we are awake; let's follow him;
- And by the way let us recount our dreams. Exeunt
- BOTTOM. [Awaking] When my cue comes, call me, and I will answer. My
- next is 'Most fair Pyramus.' Heigh-ho! Peter Quince! Flute, the
- bellows-mender! Snout, the tinker! Starveling! God's my life,
- stol'n hence, and left me asleep! I have had a most rare vision.
- I have had a dream, past the wit of man to say what dream it was.
- Man is but an ass if he go about to expound this dream. Methought
- I was- there is no man can tell what. Methought I was, and
- methought I had, but man is but a patch'd fool, if he will offer
- to say what methought I had. The eye of man hath not heard, the
- ear of man hath not seen, man's hand is not able to taste, his
- tongue to conceive, nor his heart to report, what my dream was. I
- will get Peter Quince to write a ballad of this dream. It shall
- be call'd 'Bottom's Dream,' because it hath no bottom; and I will
- sing it in the latter end of a play, before the Duke.
- Peradventure, to make it the more gracious, I shall sing it at
- her death. Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-Athens. QUINCE'S house
-
-Enter QUINCE, FLUTE, SNOUT, and STARVELING
-
- QUINCE. Have you sent to Bottom's house? Is he come home yet?
- STARVELING. He cannot be heard of. Out of doubt he is transported.
- FLUTE. If he come not, then the play is marr'd; it goes not
- forward, doth it?
- QUINCE. It is not possible. You have not a man in all Athens able
- to discharge Pyramus but he.
- FLUTE. No; he hath simply the best wit of any handicraft man in
- Athens.
- QUINCE. Yea, and the best person too; and he is a very paramour for
- a sweet voice.
- FLUTE. You must say 'paragon.' A paramour is- God bless us!- A
- thing of naught.
-
- Enter SNUG
-
- SNUG. Masters, the Duke is coming from the temple; and there is two
- or three lords and ladies more married. If our sport had gone
- forward, we had all been made men.
- FLUTE. O sweet bully Bottom! Thus hath he lost sixpence a day
- during his life; he could not have scaped sixpence a day. An the
- Duke had not given him sixpence a day for playing Pyramus, I'll
- be hanged. He would have deserved it: sixpence a day in Pyramus,
- or nothing.
-
- Enter BOTTOM
-
- BOTTOM. Where are these lads? Where are these hearts?
- QUINCE. Bottom! O most courageous day! O most happy hour!
- BOTTOM. Masters, I am to discourse wonders; but ask me not what;
- for if I tell you, I am not true Athenian. I will tell you
- everything, right as it fell out.
- QUINCE. Let us hear, sweet Bottom.
- BOTTOM. Not a word of me. All that I will tell you is, that the
- Duke hath dined. Get your apparel together; good strings to your
- beards, new ribbons to your pumps; meet presently at the palace;
- every man look o'er his part; for the short and the long is, our
- play is preferr'd. In any case, let Thisby have clean linen; and
- let not him that plays the lion pare his nails, for they shall
- hang out for the lion's claws. And, most dear actors, eat no
- onions nor garlic, for we are to utter sweet breath; and I do not
- doubt but to hear them say it is a sweet comedy. No more words.
- Away, go, away! Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-ACT V. SCENE I.
-Athens. The palace of THESEUS
-
-Enter THESEUS, HIPPOLYTA, PHILOSTRATE, LORDS, and ATTENDANTS
-
- HIPPOLYTA. 'Tis strange, my Theseus, that these lovers speak of.
- THESEUS. More strange than true. I never may believe
- These antique fables, nor these fairy toys.
- Lovers and madmen have such seething brains,
- Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend
- More than cool reason ever comprehends.
- The lunatic, the lover, and the poet,
- Are of imagination all compact.
- One sees more devils than vast hell can hold;
- That is the madman. The lover, all as frantic,
- Sees Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt.
- The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling,
- Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven;
- And as imagination bodies forth
- The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen
- Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing
- A local habitation and a name.
- Such tricks hath strong imagination
- That, if it would but apprehend some joy,
- It comprehends some bringer of that joy;
- Or in the night, imagining some fear,
- How easy is a bush suppos'd a bear?
- HIPPOLYTA. But all the story of the night told over,
- And all their minds transfigur'd so together,
- More witnesseth than fancy's images,
- And grows to something of great constancy,
- But howsoever strange and admirable.
-
- Enter LYSANDER, DEMETRIUS, HERMIA, and HELENA
-
- THESEUS. Here come the lovers, full of joy and mirth.
- Joy, gentle friends, joy and fresh days of love
- Accompany your hearts!
- LYSANDER. More than to us
- Wait in your royal walks, your board, your bed!
- THESEUS. Come now; what masques, what dances shall we have,
- To wear away this long age of three hours
- Between our after-supper and bed-time?
- Where is our usual manager of mirth?
- What revels are in hand? Is there no play
- To ease the anguish of a torturing hour?
- Call Philostrate.
- PHILOSTRATE. Here, mighty Theseus.
- THESEUS. Say, what abridgment have you for this evening?
- What masque? what music? How shall we beguile
- The lazy time, if not with some delight?
- PHILOSTRATE. There is a brief how many sports are ripe;
- Make choice of which your Highness will see first.
- [Giving a paper]
- THESEUS. 'The battle with the Centaurs, to be sung
- By an Athenian eunuch to the harp.'
- We'll none of that: that have I told my love,
- In glory of my kinsman Hercules.
- 'The riot of the tipsy Bacchanals,
- Tearing the Thracian singer in their rage.'
- That is an old device, and it was play'd
- When I from Thebes came last a conqueror.
- 'The thrice three Muses mourning for the death
- Of Learning, late deceas'd in beggary.'
- That is some satire, keen and critical,
- Not sorting with a nuptial ceremony.
- 'A tedious brief scene of young Pyramus
- And his love Thisby; very tragical mirth.'
- Merry and tragical! tedious and brief!
- That is hot ice and wondrous strange snow.
- How shall we find the concord of this discord?
- PHILOSTRATE. A play there is, my lord, some ten words long,
- Which is as brief as I have known a play;
- But by ten words, my lord, it is too long,
- Which makes it tedious; for in all the play
- There is not one word apt, one player fitted.
- And tragical, my noble lord, it is;
- For Pyramus therein doth kill himself.
- Which when I saw rehears'd, I must confess,
- Made mine eyes water; but more merry tears
- The passion of loud laughter never shed.
- THESEUS. What are they that do play it?
- PHILOSTRATE. Hard-handed men that work in Athens here,
- Which never labour'd in their minds till now;
- And now have toil'd their unbreathed memories
- With this same play against your nuptial.
- THESEUS. And we will hear it.
- PHILOSTRATE. No, my noble lord,
- It is not for you. I have heard it over,
- And it is nothing, nothing in the world;
- Unless you can find sport in their intents,
- Extremely stretch'd and conn'd with cruel pain,
- To do you service.
- THESEUS. I will hear that play;
- For never anything can be amiss
- When simpleness and duty tender it.
- Go, bring them in; and take your places, ladies.
- Exit PHILOSTRATE
- HIPPOLYTA. I love not to see wretchedness o'er-charged,
- And duty in his service perishing.
- THESEUS. Why, gentle sweet, you shall see no such thing.
- HIPPOLYTA. He says they can do nothing in this kind.
- THESEUS. The kinder we, to give them thanks for nothing.
- Our sport shall be to take what they mistake;
- And what poor duty cannot do, noble respect
- Takes it in might, not merit.
- Where I have come, great clerks have purposed
- To greet me with premeditated welcomes;
- Where I have seen them shiver and look pale,
- Make periods in the midst of sentences,
- Throttle their practis'd accent in their fears,
- And, in conclusion, dumbly have broke off,
- Not paying me a welcome. Trust me, sweet,
- Out of this silence yet I pick'd a welcome;
- And in the modesty of fearful duty
- I read as much as from the rattling tongue
- Of saucy and audacious eloquence.
- Love, therefore, and tongue-tied simplicity
- In least speak most to my capacity.
-
- Re-enter PHILOSTRATE
-
- PHILOSTRATE. SO please your Grace, the Prologue is address'd.
- THESEUS. Let him approach. [Flourish of trumpets]
-
- Enter QUINCE as the PROLOGUE
-
- PROLOGUE. If we offend, it is with our good will.
- That you should think, we come not to offend,
- But with good will. To show our simple skill,
- That is the true beginning of our end.
- Consider then, we come but in despite.
- We do not come, as minding to content you,
- Our true intent is. All for your delight
- We are not here. That you should here repent you,
- The actors are at band; and, by their show,
- You shall know all, that you are like to know,
- THESEUS. This fellow doth not stand upon points.
- LYSANDER. He hath rid his prologue like a rough colt; he knows not
- the stop. A good moral, my lord: it is not enough to speak, but
- to speak true.
- HIPPOLYTA. Indeed he hath play'd on this prologue like a child on a
- recorder- a sound, but not in government.
- THESEUS. His speech was like a tangled chain; nothing im paired,
- but all disordered. Who is next?
-
- Enter, with a trumpet before them, as in dumb show,
- PYRAMUS and THISBY, WALL, MOONSHINE, and LION
-
- PROLOGUE. Gentles, perchance you wonder at this show;
- But wonder on, till truth make all things plain.
- This man is Pyramus, if you would know;
- This beauteous lady Thisby is certain.
- This man, with lime and rough-cast, doth present
- Wall, that vile Wall which did these lovers sunder;
- And through Walls chink, poor souls, they are content
- To whisper. At the which let no man wonder.
- This man, with lanthorn, dog, and bush of thorn,
- Presenteth Moonshine; for, if you will know,
- By moonshine did these lovers think no scorn
- To meet at Ninus' tomb, there, there to woo.
- This grisly beast, which Lion hight by name,
- The trusty Thisby, coming first by night,
- Did scare away, or rather did affright;
- And as she fled, her mantle she did fall;
- Which Lion vile with bloody mouth did stain.
- Anon comes Pyramus, sweet youth and tall,
- And finds his trusty Thisby's mantle slain;
- Whereat with blade, with bloody blameful blade,
- He bravely broach'd his boiling bloody breast;
- And Thisby, tarrying in mulberry shade,
- His dagger drew, and died. For all the rest,
- Let Lion, Moonshine, Wall, and lovers twain,
- At large discourse while here they do remain.
- Exeunt PROLOGUE, PYRAMUS, THISBY,
- LION, and MOONSHINE
- THESEUS. I wonder if the lion be to speak.
- DEMETRIUS. No wonder, my lord: one lion may, when many asses do.
- WALL. In this same interlude it doth befall
- That I, one Snout by name, present a wall;
- And such a wall as I would have you think
- That had in it a crannied hole or chink,
- Through which the lovers, Pyramus and Thisby,
- Did whisper often very secretly.
- This loam, this rough-cast, and this stone, doth show
- That I am that same wall; the truth is so;
- And this the cranny is, right and sinister,
- Through which the fearful lovers are to whisper.
- THESEUS. Would you desire lime and hair to speak better?
- DEMETRIUS. It is the wittiest partition that ever I heard
- discourse, my lord.
-
- Enter PYRAMUS
-
- THESEUS. Pyramus draws near the wall; silence.
- PYRAMUS. O grim-look'd night! O night with hue so black!
- O night, which ever art when day is not!
- O night, O night, alack, alack, alack,
- I fear my Thisby's promise is forgot!
- And thou, O wall, O sweet, O lovely wall,
- That stand'st between her father's ground and mine;
- Thou wall, O wall, O sweet and lovely wall,
- Show me thy chink, to blink through with mine eyne.
- [WALL holds up his fingers]
- Thanks, courteous wall. Jove shield thee well for this!
- But what see what see I? No Thisby do I see.
- O wicked wall, through whom I see no bliss,
- Curs'd he thy stones for thus deceiving me!
- THESEUS. The wall, methinks, being sensible, should curse again.
- PYRAMUS. No, in truth, sir, he should not. Deceiving me is Thisby's
- cue. She is to enter now, and I am to spy her through the wall.
- You shall see it will fall pat as I told you; yonder she comes.
-
- Enter THISBY
-
- THISBY. O wall, full often hast thou beard my moans,
- For parting my fair Pyramus and me!
- My cherry lips have often kiss'd thy stones,
- Thy stones with lime and hair knit up in thee.
- PYRAMUS. I see a voice; now will I to the chink,
- To spy an I can hear my Thisby's face.
- Thisby!
- THISBY. My love! thou art my love, I think.
- PYRAMUS. Think what thou wilt, I am thy lover's grace;
- And like Limander am I trusty still.
- THISBY. And I like Helen, till the Fates me kill.
- PYRAMUS. Not Shafalus to Procrus was so true.
- THISBY. As Shafalus to Procrus, I to you.
- PYRAMUS. O, kiss me through the hole of this vile wall.
- THISBY. I kiss the wall's hole, not your lips at all.
- PYRAMUS. Wilt thou at Ninny's tomb meet me straightway?
- THISBY. Tide life, tide death, I come without delay.
- Exeunt PYRAMUS and THISBY
- WALL. Thus have I, Wall, my part discharged so;
- And, being done, thus Wall away doth go. Exit WALL
- THESEUS. Now is the moon used between the two neighbours.
- DEMETRIUS. No remedy, my lord, when walls are so wilful to hear
- without warning.
- HIPPOLYTA. This is the silliest stuff that ever I heard.
- THESEUS. The best in this kind are but shadows; and the worst are
- no worse, if imagination amend them.
- HIPPOLYTA. It must be your imagination then, and not theirs.
- THESEUS. If we imagine no worse of them than they of themselves,
- they may pass for excellent men. Here come two noble beasts in, a
- man and a lion.
-
- Enter LION and MOONSHINE
-
- LION. You, ladies, you, whose gentle hearts do fear
- The smallest monstrous mouse that creeps on floor,
- May now, perchance, both quake and tremble here,
- When lion rough in wildest rage doth roar.
- Then know that I as Snug the joiner am
- A lion fell, nor else no lion's dam;
- For, if I should as lion come in strife
- Into this place, 'twere pity on my life.
- THESEUS. A very gentle beast, and of a good conscience.
- DEMETRIUS. The very best at a beast, my lord, that e'er I saw.
- LYSANDER. This lion is a very fox for his valour.
- THESEUS. True; and a goose for his discretion.
- DEMETRIUS. Not so, my lord; for his valour cannot carry his
- discretion, and the fox carries the goose.
- THESEUS. His discretion, I am sure, cannot carry his valour; for
- the goose carries not the fox. It is well. Leave it to his
- discretion, and let us listen to the Moon.
- MOONSHINE. This lanthorn doth the horned moon present-
- DEMETRIUS. He should have worn the horns on his head.
- THESEUS. He is no crescent, and his horns are invisible within the
- circumference.
- MOONSHINE. This lanthorn doth the horned moon present;
- Myself the Man i' th' Moon do seem to be.
- THESEUS. This is the greatest error of all the rest; the man should
- be put into the lantern. How is it else the man i' th' moon?
- DEMETRIUS. He dares not come there for the candle; for, you see, it
- is already in snuff.
- HIPPOLYTA. I am aweary of this moon. Would he would change!
- THESEUS. It appears, by his small light of discretion, that he is
- in the wane; but yet, in courtesy, in all reason, we must stay
- the time.
- LYSANDER. Proceed, Moon.
- MOON. All that I have to say is to tell you that the lanthorn is
- the moon; I, the Man i' th' Moon; this thorn-bush, my thorn-bush;
- and this dog, my dog.
- DEMETRIUS. Why, all these should be in the lantern; for all these
- are in the moon. But silence; here comes Thisby.
-
- Re-enter THISBY
-
- THISBY. This is old Ninny's tomb. Where is my love?
- LION. [Roaring] O- [THISBY runs off]
- DEMETRIUS. Well roar'd, Lion.
- THESEUS. Well run, Thisby.
- HIPPOLYTA. Well shone, Moon. Truly, the moon shines with a good
- grace. [The LION tears THISBY'S Mantle, and exit]
- THESEUS. Well mous'd, Lion.
-
- Re-enter PYRAMUS
-
- DEMETRIUS. And then came Pyramus.
- LYSANDER. And so the lion vanish'd.
- PYRAMUS. Sweet Moon, I thank thee for thy sunny beams;
- I thank thee, Moon, for shining now so bright;
- For, by thy gracious golden, glittering gleams,
- I trust to take of truest Thisby sight.
- But stay, O spite!
- But mark, poor knight,
- What dreadful dole is here!
- Eyes, do you see?
- How can it he?
- O dainty duck! O dear!
- Thy mantle good,
- What! stain'd with blood?
- Approach, ye Furies fell.
- O Fates! come, come;
- Cut thread and thrum;
- Quail, crush, conclude, and quell.
- THESEUS. This passion, and the death of a dear friend, would go
- near to make a man look sad.
- HIPPOLYTA. Beshrew my heart, but I pity the man.
- PYRAMUS. O wherefore, Nature, didst thou lions frame?
- Since lion vile hath here deflower'd my dear;
- Which is- no, no- which was the fairest dame
- That liv'd, that lov'd, that lik'd, that look'd with cheer.
- Come, tears, confound;
- Out, sword, and wound
- The pap of Pyramus;
- Ay, that left pap,
- Where heart doth hop. [Stabs himself]
- Thus die I, thus, thus, thus.
- Now am I dead,
- Now am I fled;
- My soul is in the sky.
- Tongue, lose thy light;
- Moon, take thy flight. [Exit MOONSHINE]
- Now die, die, die, die, die. [Dies]
- DEMETRIUS. No die, but an ace, for him; for he is but one.
- LYSANDER. Less than an ace, man; for he is dead; he is nothing.
- THESEUS. With the help of a surgeon he might yet recover and yet
- prove an ass.
- HIPPOLYTA. How chance Moonshine is gone before Thisby comes back
- and finds her lover?
-
- Re-enter THISBY
-
- THESEUS. She will find him by starlight. Here she comes; and her
- passion ends the play.
- HIPPOLYTA. Methinks she should not use a long one for such a
- Pyramus; I hope she will be brief.
- DEMETRIUS. A mote will turn the balance, which Pyramus, which
- Thisby, is the better- he for a man, God warrant us: She for a
- woman, God bless us!
- LYSANDER. She hath spied him already with those sweet eyes.
- DEMETRIUS. And thus she moans, videlicet:-
- THISBY. Asleep, my love?
- What, dead, my dove?
- O Pyramus, arise,
- Speak, speak. Quite dumb?
- Dead, dead? A tomb
- Must cover thy sweet eyes.
- These lily lips,
- This cherry nose,
- These yellow cowslip cheeks,
- Are gone, are gone;
- Lovers, make moan;
- His eyes were green as leeks.
- O Sisters Three,
- Come, come to me,
- With hands as pale as milk;
- Lay them in gore,
- Since you have shore
- With shears his thread of silk.
- Tongue, not a word.
- Come, trusty sword;
- Come, blade, my breast imbrue. [Stabs herself]
- And farewell, friends;
- Thus Thisby ends;
- Adieu, adieu, adieu. [Dies]
- THESEUS. Moonshine and Lion are left to bury the dead.
- DEMETRIUS. Ay, and Wall too.
- BOTTOM. [Starting up] No, I assure you; the wall is down that
- parted their fathers. Will it please you to see the Epilogue, or
- to hear a Bergomask dance between two of our company?
- THESEUS. No epilogue, I pray you; for your play needs no excuse.
- Never excuse; for when the players are all dead there need none
- to be blamed. Marry, if he that writ it had played Pyramus, and
- hang'd himself in Thisby's garter, it would have been a fine
- tragedy. And so it is, truly; and very notably discharg'd. But
- come, your Bergomask; let your epilogue alone. [A dance]
- The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve.
- Lovers, to bed; 'tis almost fairy time.
- I fear we shall out-sleep the coming morn,
- As much as we this night have overwatch'd.
- This palpable-gross play hath well beguil'd
- The heavy gait of night. Sweet friends, to bed.
- A fortnight hold we this solemnity,
- In nightly revels and new jollity. Exeunt
-
- Enter PUCK with a broom
-
- PUCK. Now the hungry lion roars,
- And the wolf behowls the moon;
- Whilst the heavy ploughman snores,
- All with weary task fordone.
- Now the wasted brands do glow,
- Whilst the screech-owl, screeching loud,
- Puts the wretch that lies in woe
- In remembrance of a shroud.
- Now it is the time of night
- That the graves, all gaping wide,
- Every one lets forth his sprite,
- In the church-way paths to glide.
- And we fairies, that do run
- By the triple Hecate's team
- From the presence of the sun,
- Following darkness like a dream,
- Now are frolic. Not a mouse
- Shall disturb this hallowed house.
- I am sent with broom before,
- To sweep the dust behind the door.
-
- Enter OBERON and TITANIA, with all their train
-
- OBERON. Through the house give glimmering light,
- By the dead and drowsy fire;
- Every elf and fairy sprite
- Hop as light as bird from brier;
- And this ditty, after me,
- Sing and dance it trippingly.
- TITANIA. First, rehearse your song by rote,
- To each word a warbling note;
- Hand in hand, with fairy grace,
- Will we sing, and bless this place.
-
- [OBERON leading, the FAIRIES sing and dance]
-
- OBERON. Now, until the break of day,
- Through this house each fairy stray.
- To the best bride-bed will we,
- Which by us shall blessed be;
- And the issue there create
- Ever shall be fortunate.
- So shall all the couples three
- Ever true in loving be;
- And the blots of Nature's hand
- Shall not in their issue stand;
- Never mole, hare-lip, nor scar,
- Nor mark prodigious, such as are
- Despised in nativity,
- Shall upon their children be.
- With this field-dew consecrate,
- Every fairy take his gait,
- And each several chamber bless,
- Through this palace, with sweet peace;
- And the owner of it blest
- Ever shall in safety rest.
- Trip away; make no stay;
- Meet me all by break of day. Exeunt all but PUCK
- PUCK. If we shadows have offended,
- Think but this, and all is mended,
- That you have but slumb'red here
- While these visions did appear.
- And this weak and idle theme,
- No more yielding but a dream,
- Gentles, do not reprehend.
- If you pardon, we will mend.
- And, as I am an honest Puck,
- If we have unearned luck
- Now to scape the serpent's tongue,
- We will make amends ere long;
- Else the Puck a liar call.
- So, good night unto you all.
- Give me your hands, if we be friends,
- And Robin shall restore amends. Exit
-
-THE END
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-
-
-1599
-
-
-MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING
-
-
-by William Shakespeare
-
-
-
-Dramatis Personae
-
- Don Pedro, Prince of Arragon.
- Don John, his bastard brother.
- Claudio, a young lord of Florence.
- Benedick, a Young lord of Padua.
- Leonato, Governor of Messina.
- Antonio, an old man, his brother.
- Balthasar, attendant on Don Pedro.
- Borachio, follower of Don John.
- Conrade, follower of Don John.
- Friar Francis.
- Dogberry, a Constable.
- Verges, a Headborough.
- A Sexton.
- A Boy.
-
- Hero, daughter to Leonato.
- Beatrice, niece to Leonato.
- Margaret, waiting gentlewoman attending on Hero.
- Ursula, waiting gentlewoman attending on Hero.
-
- Messengers, Watch, Attendants, etc.
-
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-SCENE.--Messina.
-
-
-ACT I. Scene I.
-An orchard before Leonato's house.
-
-Enter Leonato (Governor of Messina), Hero (his Daughter),
-and Beatrice (his Niece), with a Messenger.
-
- Leon. I learn in this letter that Don Pedro of Arragon comes this
- night to Messina.
- Mess. He is very near by this. He was not three leagues off when I
- left him.
- Leon. How many gentlemen have you lost in this action?
- Mess. But few of any sort, and none of name.
- Leon. A victory is twice itself when the achiever brings home full
- numbers. I find here that Don Pedro hath bestowed much honour on
- a young Florentine called Claudio.
- Mess. Much deserv'd on his part, and equally rememb'red by Don
- Pedro. He hath borne himself beyond the promise of his age, doing
- in the figure of a lamb the feats of a lion. He hath indeed
- better bett'red expectation than you must expect of me to tell
- you how.
- Leon. He hath an uncle here in Messina will be very much glad of it.
- Mess. I have already delivered him letters, and there appears much
- joy in him; even so much that joy could not show itself modest
- enough without a badge of bitterness.
- Leon. Did he break out into tears?
- Mess. In great measure.
- Leon. A kind overflow of kindness. There are no faces truer than
- those that are so wash'd. How much better is it to weep at joy
- than to joy at weeping!
- Beat. I pray you, is Signior Mountanto return'd from the wars or no?
- Mess. I know none of that name, lady. There was none such in the
- army of any sort.
- Leon. What is he that you ask for, niece?
- Hero. My cousin means Signior Benedick of Padua.
- Mess. O, he's return'd, and as pleasant as ever he was.
- Beat. He set up his bills here in Messina and challeng'd Cupid at
- the flight, and my uncle's fool, reading the challenge,
- subscrib'd for Cupid and challeng'd him at the burbolt. I pray
- you, how many hath he kill'd and eaten in these wars? But how
- many hath he kill'd? For indeed I promised to eat all of his
- killing.
- Leon. Faith, niece, you tax Signior Benedick too much; but he'll
- be meet with you, I doubt it not.
- Mess. He hath done good service, lady, in these wars.
- Beat. You had musty victual, and he hath holp to eat it. He is a
- very valiant trencherman; he hath an excellent stomach.
- Mess. And a good soldier too, lady.
- Beat. And a good soldier to a lady; but what is he to a lord?
- Mess. A lord to a lord, a man to a man; stuff'd with all honourable
- virtues.
- Beat. It is so indeed. He is no less than a stuff'd man; but for
- the stuffing--well, we are all mortal.
- Leon. You must not, sir, mistake my niece. There is a kind of merry
- war betwixt Signior Benedick and her. They never meet but there's
- a skirmish of wit between them.
- Beat. Alas, he gets nothing by that! In our last conflict four of
- his five wits went halting off, and now is the whole man govern'd
- with one; so that if he have wit enough to keep himself warm, let
- him bear it for a difference between himself and his horse; for
- it is all the wealth that he hath left to be known a reasonable
- creature. Who is his companion now? He hath every month a new
- sworn brother.
- Mess. Is't possible?
- Beat. Very easily possible. He wears his faith but as the fashion
- of his hat; it ever changes with the next block.
- Mess. I see, lady, the gentleman is not in your books.
- Beat. No. An he were, I would burn my study. But I pray you, who is
- his companion? Is there no young squarer now that will make a
- voyage with him to the devil?
- Mess. He is most in the company of the right noble Claudio.
- Beat. O Lord, he will hang upon him like a disease! He is sooner
- caught than the pestilence, and the taker runs presently mad. God
- help the noble Claudio! If he have caught the Benedick, it will
- cost him a thousand pound ere 'a be cured.
- Mess. I will hold friends with you, lady.
- Beat. Do, good friend.
- Leon. You will never run mad, niece.
- Beat. No, not till a hot January.
- Mess. Don Pedro is approach'd.
-
- Enter Don Pedro, Claudio, Benedick, Balthasar, and John the Bastard.
-
- Pedro. Good Signior Leonato, are you come to meet your trouble? The
- fashion of the world is to avoid cost, and you encounter it.
- Leon. Never came trouble to my house in the likeness of your Grace;
- for trouble being gone, comfort should remain; but when you depart
- from me, sorrow abides and happiness takes his leave.
- Pedro. You embrace your charge too willingly. I think this is your
- daughter.
- Leon. Her mother hath many times told me so.
- Bene. Were you in doubt, sir, that you ask'd her?
- Leon. Signior Benedick, no; for then were you a child.
- Pedro. You have it full, Benedick. We may guess by this what you
- are, being a man. Truly the lady fathers herself. Be happy, lady;
- for you are like an honourable father.
- Bene. If Signior Leonato be her father, she would not have his head
- on her shoulders for all Messina, as like him as she is.
- Beat. I wonder that you will still be talking, Signior Benedick.
- Nobody marks you.
- Bene. What, my dear Lady Disdain! are you yet living?
- Beat. Is it possible Disdain should die while she hath such meet
- food to feed it as Signior Benedick? Courtesy itself must convert
- to disdain if you come in her presence.
- Bene. Then is courtesy a turncoat. But it is certain I am loved of
- all ladies, only you excepted; and I would I could find in my
- heart that I had not a hard heart, for truly I love none.
- Beat. A dear happiness to women! They would else have been troubled
- with a pernicious suitor. I thank God and my cold blood, I am of
- your humour for that. I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow
- than a man swear he loves me.
- Bene. God keep your ladyship still in that mind! So some gentleman
- or other shall scape a predestinate scratch'd face.
- Beat. Scratching could not make it worse an 'twere such a face as
- yours were.
- Bene. Well, you are a rare parrot-teacher.
- Beat. A bird of my tongue is better than a beast of yours.
- Bene. I would my horse had the speed of your tongue, and so good a
- continuer. But keep your way, a God's name! I have done.
- Beat. You always end with a jade's trick. I know you of old.
- Pedro. That is the sum of all, Leonato. Signior Claudio and Signior
- Benedick, my dear friend Leonato hath invited you all. I tell him
- we shall stay here at the least a month, and he heartly prays
- some occasion may detain us longer. I dare swear he is no
- hypocrite, but prays from his heart.
- Leon. If you swear, my lord, you shall not be forsworn. [To Don
- John] Let me bid you welcome, my lord. Being reconciled to the
- Prince your brother, I owe you all duty.
- John. I thank you. I am not of many words, but I thank you.
- Leon. Please it your Grace lead on?
- Pedro. Your hand, Leonato. We will go together.
- Exeunt. Manent Benedick and Claudio.
- Claud. Benedick, didst thou note the daughter of Signior Leonato?
- Bene. I noted her not, but I look'd on her.
- Claud. Is she not a modest young lady?
- Bene. Do you question me, as an honest man should do, for my simple
- true judgment? or would you have me speak after my custom, as
- being a professed tyrant to their sex?
- Claud. No. I pray thee speak in sober judgment.
- Bene. Why, i' faith, methinks she's too low for a high praise,
- too brown for a fair praise, and too little for a great praise.
- Only this commendation I can afford her, that were she other
- than she is, she were unhandsome, and being no other but as she
- is, I do not like her.
- Claud. Thou thinkest I am in sport. I pray thee tell me truly how
- thou lik'st her.
- Bene. Would you buy her, that you enquire after her?
- Claud. Can the world buy such a jewel?
- Bene. Yea, and a case to put it into. But speak you this with a sad
- brow? or do you play the flouting Jack, to tell us Cupid is a
- good hare-finder and Vulcan a rare carpenter? Come, in what key
- shall a man take you to go in the song?
- Claud. In mine eye she is the sweetest lady that ever I look'd on.
- Bene. I can see yet without spectacles, and I see no such matter.
- There's her cousin, an she were not possess'd with a fury,exceeds
- her as much in beauty as the first of May doth the last of
- December. But I hope you have no intent to turn husband, have
- you?
- Claud. I would scarce trust myself, though I had sworn the
- contrary, if Hero would be my wife.
- Bene. Is't come to this? In faith, hath not the world one man but
- he will wear his cap with suspicion? Shall I never see a
- bachelor of threescore again? Go to, i' faith! An thou wilt needs
- thrust thy neck into a yoke, wear the print of it and sigh away
- Sundays.
-
- Enter Don Pedro.
-
- Look! Don Pedro is returned to seek you.
- Pedro. What secret hath held you here, that you followed not to
- Leonato's?
- Bene. I would your Grace would constrain me to tell.
- Pedro. I charge thee on thy allegiance.
- Bene. You hear, Count Claudio. I can be secret as a dumb man, I
- would have you think so; but, on my allegiance--mark you this-on
- my allegiance! he is in love. With who? Now that is your Grace's
- part. Mark how short his answer is: With Hero, Leonato's short
- daughter.
- Claud. If this were so, so were it utt'red.
- Bene. Like the old tale, my lord: 'It is not so, nor 'twas not so;
- but indeed, God forbid it should be so!'
- Claud. If my passion change not shortly, God forbid it should be
- otherwise.
- Pedro. Amen, if you love her; for the lady is very well worthy.
- Claud. You speak this to fetch me in, my lord.
- Pedro. By my troth, I speak my thought.
- Claud. And, in faith, my lord, I spoke mine.
- Bene. And, by my two faiths and troths, my lord, I spoke mine.
- Claud. That I love her, I feel.
- Pedro. That she is worthy, I know.
- Bene. That I neither feel how she should be loved, nor know how she
- should be worthy, is the opinion that fire cannot melt out of me.
- I will die in it at the stake.
- Pedro. Thou wast ever an obstinate heretic in the despite of
- beauty.
- Claud. And never could maintain his part but in the force of his
- will.
- Bene. That a woman conceived me, I thank her; that she brought me
- up, I likewise give her most humble thanks; but that I will have
- a rechate winded in my forehead, or hang my bugle in an invisible
- baldrick, all women shall pardon me. Because I will not do them
- the wrong to mistrust any, I will do myself the right to trust
- none; and the fine is (for the which I may go the finer), I will
- live a bachelor.
- Pedro. I shall see thee, ere I die, look pale with love.
- Bene. With anger, with sickness, or with hunger, my lord; not with
- love. Prove that ever I lose more blood with love than I will get
- again with drinking, pick out mine eyes with a ballad-maker's pen
- and hang me up at the door of a brothel house for the sign of
- blind Cupid.
- Pedro. Well, if ever thou dost fall from this faith, thou wilt
- prove a notable argument.
- Bene. If I do, hang me in a bottle like a cat and shoot at me; and
- he that hits me, let him be clapp'd on the shoulder and call'd
- Adam.
- Pedro. Well, as time shall try.
- 'In time the savage bull doth bear the yoke.'
- Bene. The savage bull may; but if ever the sensible Benedick bear
- it, pluck off the bull's horns and set them in my forehead, and
- let me be vilely painted, and in such great letters as they write
- 'Here is good horse to hire,' let them signify under my sign
- 'Here you may see Benedick the married man.'
- Claud. If this should ever happen, thou wouldst be horn-mad.
- Pedro. Nay, if Cupid have not spent all his quiver in Venice, thou
- wilt quake for this shortly.
- Bene. I look for an earthquake too then.
- Pedro. Well, you will temporize with the hours. In the meantime,
- good Signior Benedick, repair to Leonato's, commend me to him and
- tell him I will not fail him at supper; for indeed he hath made
- great preparation.
- Bene. I have almost matter enough in me for such an embassage; and
- so I commit you--
- Claud. To the tuition of God. From my house--if I had it--
- Pedro. The sixth of July. Your loving friend, Benedick.
- Bene. Nay, mock not, mock not. The body of your discourse is
- sometime guarded with fragments, and the guards are but slightly
- basted on neither. Ere you flout old ends any further, examine
- your conscience. And so I leave you. Exit.
- Claud. My liege, your Highness now may do me good.
- Pedro. My love is thine to teach. Teach it but how,
- And thou shalt see how apt it is to learn
- Any hard lesson that may do thee good.
- Claud. Hath Leonato any son, my lord?
- Pedro. No child but Hero; she's his only heir.
- Dost thou affect her, Claudio?
- Claud.O my lord,
- When you went onward on this ended action,
- I look'd upon her with a soldier's eye,
- That lik'd, but had a rougher task in hand
- Than to drive liking to the name of love;
- But now I am return'd and that war-thoughts
- Have left their places vacant, in their rooms
- Come thronging soft and delicate desires,
- All prompting me how fair young Hero is,
- Saying I lik'd her ere I went to wars.
- Pedro. Thou wilt be like a lover presently
- And tire the hearer with a book of words.
- If thou dost love fair Hero, cherish it,
- And I will break with her and with her father,
- And thou shalt have her. Wast not to this end
- That thou began'st to twist so fine a story?
- Claud. How sweetly you do minister to love,
- That know love's grief by his complexion!
- But lest my liking might too sudden seem,
- I would have salv'd it with a longer treatise.
- Pedro. What need the bridge much broader than the flood?
- The fairest grant is the necessity.
- Look, what will serve is fit. 'Tis once, thou lovest,
- And I will fit thee with the remedy.
- I know we shall have revelling to-night.
- I will assume thy part in some disguise
- And tell fair Hero I am Claudio,
- And in her bosom I'll unclasp my heart
- And take her hearing prisoner with the force
- And strong encounter of my amorous tale.
- Then after to her father will I break,
- And the conclusion is, she shall be thine.
- In practice let us put it presently. Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-Scene II.
-A room in Leonato's house.
-
-Enter [at one door] Leonato and [at another door, Antonio] an old man,
-brother to Leonato.
-
- Leon. How now, brother? Where is my cousin your son? Hath he
- provided this music?
- Ant. He is very busy about it. But, brother, I can tell you strange
- news that you yet dreamt not of.
- Leon. Are they good?
- Ant. As the event stamps them; but they have a good cover, they
- show well outward. The Prince and Count Claudio, walking in a
- thick-pleached alley in mine orchard, were thus much overheard by
- a man of mine: the Prince discovered to Claudio that he loved my
- niece your daughter and meant to acknowledge it this night in a
- dance, and if he found her accordant, he meant to take the
- present time by the top and instantly break with you of it.
- Leon. Hath the fellow any wit that told you this?
- Ant. A good sharp fellow. I will send for him, and question him
- yourself.
- Leon. No, no. We will hold it as a dream till it appear itself; but
- I will acquaint my daughter withal, that she may be the better
- prepared for an answer, if peradventure this be true. Go you and
- tell her of it. [Exit Antonio.]
-
- [Enter Antonio's Son with a Musician, and others.]
-
- [To the Son] Cousin, you know what you have to do.
- --[To the Musician] O, I cry you mercy, friend. Go you with me,
- and I will use your skill.--Good cousin, have a care this busy
- time. Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-Scene III.
-Another room in Leonato's house.]
-
-Enter Sir John the Bastard and Conrade, his companion.
-
- Con. What the goodyear, my lord! Why are you thus out of measure
- sad?
- John. There is no measure in the occasion that breeds; therefore
- the sadness is without limit.
- Con. You should hear reason.
- John. And when I have heard it, what blessings brings it?
- Con. If not a present remedy, at least a patient sufferance.
- John. I wonder that thou (being, as thou say'st thou art, born
- under Saturn) goest about to apply a moral medicine to a
- mortifying mischief. I cannot hide what I am: I must be sad when
- I have cause, and smile at no man's jests; eat when I have
- stomach, and wait for no man's leisure; sleep when I am drowsy,
- and tend on no man's business; laugh when I am merry, and claw no
- man in his humour.
- Con. Yea, but you must not make the full show of this till you may
- do it without controlment. You have of late stood out against
- your brother, and he hath ta'en you newly into his grace, where
- it is impossible you should take true root but by the fair
- weather that you make yourself. It is needful that you frame the
- season for your own harvest.
- John. I had rather be a canker in a hedge than a rose in his grace,
- and it better fits my blood to be disdain'd of all than to
- fashion a carriage to rob love from any. In this, though I cannot
- be said to be a flattering honest man, it must not be denied but
- I am a plain-dealing villain. I am trusted with a muzzle and
- enfranchis'd with a clog; therefore I have decreed not to sing in
- my cage. If I had my mouth, I would bite; if I had my liberty, I
- would do my liking. In the meantime let me be that I am, and seek
- not to alter me.
- Con. Can you make no use of your discontent?
- John. I make all use of it, for I use it only.
-
- Enter Borachio.
-
- Who comes here? What news, Borachio?
- Bora. I came yonder from a great supper. The Prince your brother is
- royally entertain'd by Leonato, and I can give you intelligence
- of an intended marriage.
- John. Will it serve for any model to build mischief on?
- What is he for a fool that betroths himself to unquietness?
- Bora. Marry, it is your brother's right hand.
- John. Who? the most exquisite Claudio?
- Bora. Even he.
- John. A proper squire! And who? and who? which way looks he?
- Bora. Marry, on Hero, the daughter and heir of Leonato.
- John. A very forward March-chick! How came you to this?
- Bora. Being entertain'd for a perfumer, as I was smoking a musty
- room, comes me the Prince and Claudio, hand in hand in sad
- conference. I whipt me behind the arras and there heard it agreed
- upon that the Prince should woo Hero for himself, and having
- obtain'd her, give her to Count Claudio.
- John. Come, come, let us thither. This may prove food to my
- displeasure. That young start-up hath all the glory of my
- overthrow. If I can cross him any way, I bless myself every way.
- You are both sure, and will assist me?
- Con. To the death, my lord.
- John. Let us to the great supper. Their cheer is the greater that
- I am subdued. Would the cook were o' my mind! Shall we go prove
- what's to be done?
- Bora. We'll wait upon your lordship.
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT II. Scene I.
-A hall in Leonato's house.
-
-Enter Leonato, [Antonio] his Brother, Hero his Daughter,
-and Beatrice his Niece, and a Kinsman; [also Margaret and Ursula].
-
- Leon. Was not Count John here at supper?
- Ant. I saw him not.
- Beat. How tartly that gentleman looks! I never can see him but I am
- heart-burn'd an hour after.
- Hero. He is of a very melancholy disposition.
- Beat. He were an excellent man that were made just in the midway
- between him and Benedick. The one is too like an image and says
- nothing, and the other too like my lady's eldest son, evermore
- tattling.
- Leon. Then half Signior Benedick's tongue in Count John's mouth,
- and half Count John's melancholy in Signior Benedick's face--
- Beat. With a good leg and a good foot, uncle, and money enough in
- his purse, such a man would win any woman in the world--if 'a
- could get her good will.
- Leon. By my troth, niece, thou wilt never get thee a husband if
- thou be so shrewd of thy tongue.
- Ant. In faith, she's too curst.
- Beat. Too curst is more than curst. I shall lessen God's sending
- that way, for it is said, 'God sends a curst cow short horns,'
- but to a cow too curst he sends none.
- Leon. So, by being too curst, God will send you no horns.
- Beat. Just, if he send me no husband; for the which blessing I am
- at him upon my knees every morning and evening. Lord, I could not
- endure a husband with a beard on his face. I had rather lie in
- the woollen!
- Leon. You may light on a husband that hath no beard.
- Beat. What should I do with him? dress him in my apparel and make
- him my waiting gentlewoman? He that hath a beard is more than a
- youth, and he that hath no beard is less than a man; and he that
- is more than a youth is not for me; and he that is less than a
- man, I am not for him. Therefore I will even take sixpence in
- earnest of the berrord and lead his apes into hell.
- Leon. Well then, go you into hell?
- Beat. No; but to the gate, and there will the devil meet me like an
- old cuckold with horns on his head, and say 'Get you to heaven,
- Beatrice, get you to heaven. Here's no place for you maids.' So
- deliver I up my apes, and away to Saint Peter--for the heavens.
- He shows me where the bachelors sit, and there live we as merry
- as the day is long.
- Ant. [to Hero] Well, niece, I trust you will be rul'd by your
- father.
- Beat. Yes faith. It is my cousin's duty to make cursy and say,
- 'Father, as it please you.' But yet for all that, cousin, let him
- be a handsome fellow, or else make another cursy, and say,
- 'Father, as it please me.'
- Leon. Well, niece, I hope to see you one day fitted with a husband.
- Beat. Not till God make men of some other metal than earth. Would
- it not grieve a woman to be overmaster'd with a piece of valiant
- dust? to make an account of her life to a clod of wayward marl?
- No, uncle, I'll none. Adam's sons are my brethren, and truly I
- hold it a sin to match in my kinred.
- Leon. Daughter, remember what I told you. If the Prince do solicit
- you in that kind, you know your answer.
- Beat. The fault will be in the music, cousin, if you be not wooed
- in good time. If the Prince be too important, tell him there is
- measure in everything, and so dance out the answer. For, hear me,
- Hero: wooing, wedding, and repenting is as a Scotch jig, a
- measure, and a cinque-pace: the first suit is hot and hasty like
- a Scotch jig--and full as fantastical; the wedding, mannerly
- modest, as a measure, full of state and ancientry; and then comes
- Repentance and with his bad legs falls into the cinque-pace
- faster and faster, till he sink into his grave.
- Leon. Cousin, you apprehend passing shrewdly.
- Beat. I have a good eye, uncle; I can see a church by daylight.
- Leon. The revellers are ent'ring, brother. Make good room.
- [Exit Antonio.]
-
- Enter, [masked,] Don Pedro, Claudio, Benedick, and Balthasar.
- [With them enter Antonio, also masked. After them enter]
- Don John [and Borachio (without masks), who stand aside
- and look on during the dance].
-
- Pedro. Lady, will you walk a bout with your friend?
- Hero. So you walk softly and look sweetly and say nothing,
- I am yours for the walk; and especially when I walk away.
- Pedro. With me in your company?
- Hero. I may say so when I please.
- Pedro. And when please you to say so?
- Hero. When I like your favour, for God defend the lute should be
- like the case!
- Pedro. My visor is Philemon's roof; within the house is Jove.
- Hero. Why then, your visor should be thatch'd.
- Pedro. Speak low if you speak love. [Takes her aside.]
- Balth. Well, I would you did like me.
- Marg. So would not I for your own sake, for I have many ill
- qualities.
- Balth. Which is one?
- Marg. I say my prayers aloud.
- Balth. I love you the better. The hearers may cry Amen.
- Marg. God match me with a good dancer!
- Balth. Amen.
- Marg. And God keep him out of my sight when the dance is done!
- Answer, clerk.
- Balth. No more words. The clerk is answered.
- [Takes her aside.]
- Urs. I know you well enough. You are Signior Antonio.
- Ant. At a word, I am not.
- Urs. I know you by the waggling of your head.
- Ant. To tell you true, I counterfeit him.
- Urs. You could never do him so ill-well unless you were the very
- man. Here's his dry hand up and down. You are he, you are he!
- Ant. At a word, I am not.
- Urs. Come, come, do you think I do not know you by your excellent
- wit? Can virtue hide itself? Go to, mum you are he. Graces will
- appear, and there's an end. [ They step aside.]
- Beat. Will you not tell me who told you so?
- Bene. No, you shall pardon me.
- Beat. Nor will you not tell me who you are?
- Bene. Not now.
- Beat. That I was disdainful, and that I had my good wit out of the
- 'Hundred Merry Tales.' Well, this was Signior Benedick that said
- so.
- Bene. What's he?
- Beat. I am sure you know him well enough.
- Bene. Not I, believe me.
- Beat. Did he never make you laugh?
- Bene. I pray you, what is he?
- Beat. Why, he is the Prince's jester, a very dull fool. Only his
- gift is in devising impossible slanders. None but libertines
- delight in him; and the commendation is not in his wit, but in
- his villany; for he both pleases men and angers them, and then
- they laugh at him and beat him. I am sure he is in the fleet.
- I would he had boarded me.
- Bene. When I know the gentleman, I'll tell him what you say.
- Beat. Do, do. He'll but break a comparison or two on me; which
- peradventure, not marked or not laugh'd at, strikes him into
- melancholy; and then there's a partridge wing saved, for the fool
- will eat no supper that night.
- [Music.]
- We must follow the leaders.
- Bene. In every good thing.
- Beat. Nay, if they lead to any ill, I will leave them at the next
- turning.
- Dance. Exeunt (all but Don John, Borachio, and Claudio].
- John. Sure my brother is amorous on Hero and hath withdrawn her
- father to break with him about it. The ladies follow her and but
- one visor remains.
- Bora. And that is Claudio. I know him by his bearing.
- John. Are you not Signior Benedick?
- Claud. You know me well. I am he.
- John. Signior, you are very near my brother in his love. He is
- enamour'd on Hero. I pray you dissuade him from her; she is no
- equal for his birth. You may do the part of an honest man in it.
- Claud. How know you he loves her?
- John. I heard him swear his affection.
- Bora. So did I too, and he swore he would marry her tonight.
- John. Come, let us to the banquet.
- Exeunt. Manet Claudio.
- Claud. Thus answer I in name of Benedick
- But hear these ill news with the ears of Claudio.
- [Unmasks.]
- 'Tis certain so. The Prince wooes for himself.
- Friendship is constant in all other things
- Save in the office and affairs of love.
- Therefore all hearts in love use their own tongues;
- Let every eye negotiate for itself
- And trust no agent; for beauty is a witch
- Against whose charms faith melteth into blood.
- This is an accident of hourly proof,
- Which I mistrusted not. Farewell therefore Hero!
-
- Enter Benedick [unmasked].
-
- Bene. Count Claudio?
- Claud. Yea, the same.
- Bene. Come, will you go with me?
- Claud. Whither?
- Bene. Even to the next willow, about your own business, County. What
- fashion will you wear the garland of? about your neck, like an
- usurer's chain? or under your arm, like a lieutenant's scarf? You
- must wear it one way, for the Prince hath got your Hero.
- Claud. I wish him joy of her.
- Bene. Why, that's spoken like an honest drovier. So they sell
- bullocks. But did you think the Prince would have served you
- thus?
- Claud. I pray you leave me.
- Bene. Ho! now you strike like the blind man! 'Twas the boy that
- stole your meat, and you'll beat the post.
- Claud. If it will not be, I'll leave you. Exit.
- Bene. Alas, poor hurt fowl! now will he creep into sedges. But,
- that my Lady Beatrice should know me, and not know me! The
- Prince's fool! Ha! it may be I go under that title because I am
- merry. Yea, but so I am apt to do myself wrong. I am not so
- reputed. It is the base (though bitter) disposition of Beatrice
- that puts the world into her person and so gives me out. Well,
- I'll be revenged as I may.
-
- Enter Don Pedro.
-
- Pedro. Now, signior, where's the Count? Did you see him?
- Bene. Troth, my lord, I have played the part of Lady Fame, I found
- him here as melancholy as a lodge in a warren. I told him, and I
- think I told him true, that your Grace had got the good will of
- this young lady, and I off'red him my company to a willow tree,
- either to make him a garland, as being forsaken, or to bind him
- up a rod, as being worthy to be whipt.
- Pedro. To be whipt? What's his fault?
- Bene. The flat transgression of a schoolboy who, being overjoyed
- with finding a bird's nest, shows it his companion, and he steals
- it.
- Pedro. Wilt thou make a trust a transgression? The transgression is
- in the stealer.
- Bene. Yet it had not been amiss the rod had been made, and the
- garland too; for the garland he might have worn himself, and the
- rod he might have bestowed on you, who, as I take it, have stol'n
- his bird's nest.
- Pedro. I will but teach them to sing and restore them to the owner.
- Bene. If their singing answer your saying, by my faith you say
- honestly.
- Pedro. The Lady Beatrice hath a quarrel to you. The gentleman that
- danc'd with her told her she is much wrong'd by you.
- Bene. O, she misus'd me past the endurance of a block! An oak but
- with one green leaf on it would have answered her; my very visor
- began to assume life and scold with her. She told me, not
- thinking I had been myself, that I was the Prince's jester, that
- I was duller than a great thaw; huddling jest upon jest with such
- impossible conveyance upon me that I stood like a man at a mark,
- with a whole army shooting at me. She speaks poniards, and every
- word stabs. If her breath were as terrible as her terminations,
- there were no living near her; she would infect to the North
- Star. I would not marry her though she were endowed with all that
- Adam had left him before he transgress'd. She would have made
- Hercules have turn'd spit, yea, and have cleft his club to make
- the fire too. Come, talk not of her. You shall find her the
- infernal Ate in good apparel. I would to God some scholar would
- conjure her, for certainly, while she is here, a man may live as
- quiet in hell as in a sanctuary; and people sin upon purpose,
- because they would go thither; so indeed all disquiet, horror,
- and perturbation follows her.
-
- Enter Claudio and Beatrice, Leonato, Hero.
-
- Pedro. Look, here she comes.
- Bene. Will your Grace command me any service to the world's end? I
- will go on the slightest errand now to the Antipodes that you can
- devise to send me on; I will fetch you a toothpicker now from the
- furthest inch of Asia; bring you the length of Prester John's
- foot; fetch you a hair off the great Cham's beard; do you any
- embassage to the Pygmies--rather than hold three words'
- conference with this harpy. You have no employment for me?
- Pedro. None, but to desire your good company.
- Bene. O God, sir, here's a dish I love not! I cannot endure my Lady
- Tongue. [Exit.]
- Pedro. Come, lady, come; you have lost the heart of Signior
- Benedick.
- Beat. Indeed, my lord, he lent it me awhile, and I gave him use for
- it--a double heart for his single one. Marry, once before he won
- it of me with false dice; therefore your Grace may well say I
- have lost it.
- Pedro. You have put him down, lady; you have put him down.
- Beat. So I would not he should do me, my lord, lest I should prove
- the mother of fools. I have brought Count Claudio, whom you sent
- me to seek.
- Pedro. Why, how now, Count? Wherefore are you sad?
- Claud. Not sad, my lord.
- Pedro. How then? sick?
- Claud. Neither, my lord.
- Beat. The Count is neither sad, nor sick, nor merry, nor well; but
- civil count--civil as an orange, and something of that jealous
- complexion.
- Pedro. I' faith, lady, I think your blazon to be true; though I'll
- be sworn, if he be so, his conceit is false. Here, Claudio, I
- have wooed in thy name, and fair Hero is won. I have broke with
- her father, and his good will obtained. Name the day of marriage,
- and God give thee joy!
- Leon. Count, take of me my daughter, and with her my fortunes. His
- Grace hath made the match, and all grace say Amen to it!
- Beat. Speak, Count, 'tis your cue.
- Claud. Silence is the perfectest herald of joy. I were but little
- happy if I could say how much. Lady, as you are mine, I am yours.
- I give away myself for you and dote upon the exchange.
- Beat. Speak, cousin; or, if you cannot, stop his mouth with a kiss
- and let not him speak neither.
- Pedro. In faith, lady, you have a merry heart.
- Beat. Yea, my lord; I thank it, poor fool, it keeps on the windy
- side of care. My cousin tells him in his ear that he is in her
- heart.
- Claud. And so she doth, cousin.
- Beat. Good Lord, for alliance! Thus goes every one to the world but
- I, and I am sunburnt. I may sit in a corner and cry 'Heigh-ho for
- a husband!'
- Pedro. Lady Beatrice, I will get you one.
- Beat. I would rather have one of your father's getting. Hath your
- Grace ne'er a brother like you? Your father got excellent
- husbands, if a maid could come by them.
- Pedro. Will you have me, lady?
- Beat. No, my lord, unless I might have another for working days:
- your Grace is too costly to wear every day. But I beseech your
- Grace pardon me. I was born to speak all mirth and no matter.
- Pedro. Your silence most offends me, and to be merry best becomes
- you, for out o' question you were born in a merry hour.
- Beat. No, sure, my lord, my mother cried; but then there was a star
- danc'd, and under that was I born. Cousins, God give you joy!
- Leon. Niece, will you look to those things I told you of?
- Beat. I cry you mercy, uncle, By your Grace's pardon. Exit.
- Pedro. By my troth, a pleasant-spirited lady.
- Leon. There's little of the melancholy element in her, my lord. She
- is never sad but when she sleeps, and not ever sad then; for I
- have heard my daughter say she hath often dreamt of unhappiness
- and wak'd herself with laughing.
- Pedro. She cannot endure to hear tell of a husband.
- Leon. O, by no means! She mocks all her wooers out of suit.
- Pedro. She were an excellent wife for Benedick.
- Leon. O Lord, my lord! if they were but a week married, they would
- talk themselves mad.
- Pedro. County Claudio, when mean you to go to church?
- Claud. To-morrow, my lord. Time goes on crutches till love have all
- his rites.
- Leon. Not till Monday, my dear son, which is hence a just
- sevennight; and a time too brief too, to have all things answer
- my mind.
- Pedro. Come, you shake the head at so long a breathing;
- but I warrant thee, Claudio, the time shall not go dully by us.
- I will in the interim undertake one of Hercules' labours, which
- is, to bring Signior Benedick and the Lady Beatrice into a
- mountain of affection th' one with th' other. I would fain have
- it a match, and I doubt not but to fashion it if you three will
- but minister such assistance as I shall give you direction.
- Leon. My lord, I am for you, though it cost me ten nights'
- watchings.
- Claud. And I, my lord.
- Pedro. And you too, gentle Hero?
- Hero. I will do any modest office, my lord, to help my cousin to a
- good husband.
- Pedro. And Benedick is not the unhopefullest husband that I know.
- Thus far can I praise him: he is of a noble strain, of approved
- valour, and confirm'd honesty. I will teach you how to humour
- your cousin, that she shall fall in love with Benedick; and I,
- [to Leonato and Claudio] with your two helps, will so practise on
- Benedick that, in despite of his quick wit and his queasy
- stomach, he shall fall in love with Beatrice. If we can do this,
- Cupid is no longer an archer; his glory shall be ours, for we are
- the only love-gods. Go in with me, and I will tell you my drift.
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-Scene II.
-A hall in Leonato's house.
-
-Enter [Don] John and Borachio.
-
- John. It is so. The Count Claudio shall marry the daughter of
- Leonato.
- Bora. Yea, my lord; but I can cross it.
- John. Any bar, any cross, any impediment will be med'cinable to me.
- I am sick in displeasure to him, and whatsoever comes athwart his
- affection ranges evenly with mine. How canst thou cross this
- marriage?
- Bora. Not honestly, my lord, but so covertly that no dishonesty
- shall appear in me.
- John. Show me briefly how.
- Bora. I think I told your lordship, a year since, how much I am in
- the favour of Margaret, the waiting gentlewoman to Hero.
- John. I remember.
- Bora. I can, at any unseasonable instant of the night, appoint her
- to look out at her lady's chamber window.
- John. What life is in that to be the death of this marriage?
- Bora. The poison of that lies in you to temper. Go you to the
- Prince your brother; spare not to tell him that he hath wronged
- his honour in marrying the renowned Claudio (whose estimation do
- you mightily hold up) to a contaminated stale, such a one as
- Hero.
- John. What proof shall I make of that?
- Bora. Proof enough to misuse the Prince, to vex Claudio, to undo
- Hero, and kill Leonato. Look you for any other issue?
- John. Only to despite them I will endeavour anything.
- Bora. Go then; find me a meet hour to draw Don Pedro and the Count
- Claudio alone; tell them that you know that Hero loves me; intend
- a kind of zeal both to the Prince and Claudio, as--in love of
- your brother's honour, who hath made this match, and his friend's
- reputation, who is thus like to be cozen'd with the semblance of
- a maid--that you have discover'd thus. They will scarcely believe
- this without trial. Offer them instances; which shall bear no
- less likelihood than to see me at her chamber window, hear me
- call Margaret Hero, hear Margaret term me Claudio; and bring them
- to see this the very night before the intended wedding (for in
- the meantime I will so fashion the matter that Hero shall be
- absent) and there shall appear such seeming truth of Hero's
- disloyalty that jealousy shall be call'd assurance and all the
- preparation overthrown.
- John. Grow this to what adverse issue it can, I will put it in
- practice. Be cunning in the working this, and thy fee is a
- thousand ducats.
- Bora. Be you constant in the accusation, and my cunning shall not
- shame me.
- John. I will presently go learn their day of marriage.
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-Scene III.
-Leonato's orchard.
-
-Enter Benedick alone.
-
- Bene. Boy!
-
- [Enter Boy.]
-
- Boy. Signior?
- Bene. In my chamber window lies a book. Bring it hither to me in
- the orchard.
- Boy. I am here already, sir.
- Bene. I know that, but I would have thee hence and here again.
- (Exit Boy.) I do much wonder that one man, seeing how much
- another man is a fool when he dedicates his behaviours to love,
- will, after he hath laugh'd at such shallow follies in others,
- become the argument of his own scorn by falling in love; and such
- a man is Claudio. I have known when there was no music with him
- but the drum and the fife; and now had he rather hear the tabor
- and the pipe. I have known when he would have walk'd ten mile
- afoot to see a good armour; and now will he lie ten nights awake
- carving the fashion of a new doublet. He was wont to speak plain
- and to the purpose, like an honest man and a soldier; and now is
- he turn'd orthography; his words are a very fantastical banquet--
- just so many strange dishes. May I be so converted and see with
- these eyes? I cannot tell; I think not. I will not be sworn but
- love may transform me to an oyster; but I'll take my oath on it,
- till he have made an oyster of me he shall never make me such a
- fool. One woman is fair, yet I am well; another is wise, yet I am
- well; another virtuous, yet I am well; but till all graces be in
- one woman, one woman shall not come in my grace. Rich she shall
- be, that's certain; wise, or I'll none; virtuous, or I'll never
- cheapen her; fair, or I'll never look on her; mild, or come not
- near me; noble, or not I for an angel; of good discourse, an
- excellent musician, and her hair shall be of what colour it
- please God. Ha, the Prince and Monsieur Love! I will hide me in
- the arbour. [Hides.]
-
- Enter Don Pedro, Leonato, Claudio.
- Music [within].
-
- Pedro. Come, shall we hear this music?
- Claud. Yea, my good lord. How still the evening is,
- As hush'd on purpose to grace harmony!
- Pedro. See you where Benedick hath hid himself?
- Claud. O, very well, my lord. The music ended,
- We'll fit the kid-fox with a pennyworth.
-
- Enter Balthasar with Music.
-
- Pedro. Come, Balthasar, we'll hear that song again.
- Balth. O, good my lord, tax not so bad a voice
- To slander music any more than once.
- Pedro. It is the witness still of excellency
- To put a strange face on his own perfection.
- I pray thee sing, and let me woo no more.
- Balth. Because you talk of wooing, I will sing,
- Since many a wooer doth commence his suit
- To her he thinks not worthy, yet he wooes,
- Yet will he swear he loves.
- Pedro. Nay, pray thee come;
- Or if thou wilt hold longer argument,
- Do it in notes.
- Balth. Note this before my notes:
- There's not a note of mine that's worth the noting.
- Pedro. Why, these are very crotchets that he speaks!
- Note notes, forsooth, and nothing! [Music.]
- Bene. [aside] Now divine air! Now is his soul ravish'd! Is it not
- strange that sheep's guts should hale souls out of men's bodies?
- Well, a horn for my money, when all's done.
- [Balthasar sings.]
- The Song.
-
- Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more!
- Men were deceivers ever,
- One foot in sea, and one on shore;
- To one thing constant never.
- Then sigh not so,
- But let them go,
- And be you blithe and bonny,
- Converting all your sounds of woe
- Into Hey nonny, nonny.
-
- Sing no more ditties, sing no moe,
- Of dumps so dull and heavy!
- The fraud of men was ever so,
- Since summer first was leavy.
- Then sigh not so, &c.
-
- Pedro. By my troth, a good song.
- Balth. And an ill singer, my lord.
- Pedro. Ha, no, no, faith! Thou sing'st well enough for a shift.
- Bene. [aside] An he had been a dog that should have howl'd thus,
- they would have hang'd him; and I pray God his bad voice bode no
- mischief. I had as live have heard the night raven, come what
- plague could have come after it.
- Pedro. Yea, marry. Dost thou hear, Balthasar? I pray thee get us
- some excellent music; for to-morrow night we would have it at the
- Lady Hero's chamber window.
- Balth. The best I can, my lord.
- Pedro. Do so. Farewell.
- Exit Balthasar [with Musicians].
- Come hither, Leonato. What was it you told me of to-day? that
- your niece Beatrice was in love with Signior Benedick?
- Claud. O, ay!-[Aside to Pedro] Stalk on, stalk on; the fowl sits.
- --I did never think that lady would have loved any man.
- Leon. No, nor I neither; but most wonderful that she should so dote
- on Signior Benedick, whom she hath in all outward behaviours
- seem'd ever to abhor.
- Bene. [aside] Is't possible? Sits the wind in that corner?
- Leon. By my troth, my lord, I cannot tell what to think of it, but
- that she loves him with an enraged affection. It is past the
- infinite of thought.
- Pedro. May be she doth but counterfeit.
- Claud. Faith, like enough.
- Leon. O God, counterfeit? There was never counterfeit of passion
- came so near the life of passion as she discovers it.
- Pedro. Why, what effects of passion shows she?
- Claud. [aside] Bait the hook well! This fish will bite.
- Leon. What effects, my lord? She will sit you--you heard my
- daughter tell you how.
- Claud. She did indeed.
- Pedro. How, how, I pray you? You amaze me. I would have thought her
- spirit had been invincible against all assaults of affection.
- Leon. I would have sworn it had, my lord--especially against
- Benedick.
- Bene. [aside] I should think this a gull but that the white-bearded
- fellow speaks it. Knavery cannot, sure, hide himself in such
- reverence.
- Claud. [aside] He hath ta'en th' infection. Hold it up.
- Pedro. Hath she made her affection known to Benedick?
- Leon. No, and swears she never will. That's her torment.
- Claud. 'Tis true indeed. So your daughter says. 'Shall I,' says
- she, 'that have so oft encount'red him with scorn, write to him
- that I love him?'"
- Leon. This says she now when she is beginning to write to him; for
- she'll be up twenty times a night, and there will she sit in her
- smock till she have writ a sheet of paper. My daughter tells us
- all.
- Claud. Now you talk of a sheet of paper, I remember a pretty jest
- your daughter told us of.
- Leon. O, when she had writ it, and was reading it over, she found
- 'Benedick' and 'Beatrice' between the sheet?
- Claud. That.
- Leon. O, she tore the letter into a thousand halfpence, rail'd at
- herself that she should be so immodest to write to one that she
- knew would flout her. 'I measure him,' says she, 'by my own
- spirit; for I should flout him if he writ to me. Yea, though I
- love him, I should.'
- Claud. Then down upon her knees she falls, weeps, sobs, beats her
- heart, tears her hair, prays, curses--'O sweet Benedick! God give
- me patience!'
- Leon. She doth indeed; my daughter says so. And the ecstasy hath so
- much overborne her that my daughter is sometime afeard she will
- do a desperate outrage to herself. It is very true.
- Pedro. It were good that Benedick knew of it by some other, if she
- will not discover it.
- Claud. To what end? He would make but a sport of it and torment the
- poor lady worse.
- Pedro. An he should, it were an alms to hang him! She's an
- excellent sweet lady, and (out of all suspicion) she is virtuous.
- Claud. And she is exceeding wise.
- Pedro. In everything but in loving Benedick.
- Leon. O, my lord, wisdom and blood combating in so tender a body,
- we have ten proofs to one that blood hath the victory. I am sorry
- for her, as I have just cause, being her uncle and her guardian.
- Pedro. I would she had bestowed this dotage on me. I would have
- daff'd all other respects and made her half myself. I pray you
- tell Benedick of it and hear what 'a will say.
- Leon. Were it good, think you?
- Claud. Hero thinks surely she will die; for she says she will die
- if he love her not, and she will die ere she make her love known,
- and she will die, if he woo her, rather than she will bate one
- breath of her accustomed crossness.
- Pedro. She doth well. If she should make tender of her love, 'tis
- very possible he'll scorn it; for the man (as you know all) hath
- a contemptible spirit.
- Claud. He is a very proper man.
- Pedro. He hath indeed a good outward happiness.
- Claud. Before God! and in my mind, very wise.
- Pedro. He doth indeed show some sparks that are like wit.
- Claud. And I take him to be valiant.
- Pedro. As Hector, I assure you; and in the managing of quarrels you
- may say he is wise, for either he avoids them with great
- discretion, or undertakes them with a most Christianlike fear.
- Leon. If he do fear God, 'a must necessarily keep peace. If he
- break the peace, he ought to enter into a quarrel with fear and
- trembling.
- Pedro. And so will he do; for the man doth fear God, howsoever it
- seems not in him by some large jests he will make. Well, I am
- sorry for your niece. Shall we go seek Benedick and tell him of
- her love?
- Claud. Never tell him, my lord. Let her wear it out with good
- counsel.
- Leon. Nay, that's impossible; she may wear her heart out first.
- Pedro. Well, we will hear further of it by your daughter. Let it
- cool the while. I love Benedick well, and I could wish he would
- modestly examine himself to see how much he is unworthy so good a
- lady.
- Leon. My lord, will you .walk? Dinner is ready.
- [They walk away.]
- Claud. If he dote on her upon this, I will never trust my
- expectation.
- Pedro. Let there be the same net spread for her, and that must your
- daughter and her gentlewomen carry. The sport will be, when they
- hold one an opinion of another's dotage, and no such matter.
- That's the scene that I would see, which will be merely a dumb
- show. Let us send her to call him in to dinner.
- Exeunt [Don Pedro, Claudio, and Leonato].
-
- [Benedick advances from the arbour.]
-
- Bene. This can be no trick. The conference was sadly borne; they
- have the truth of this from Hero; they seem to pity the lady.
- It seems her affections have their full bent. Love me? Why, it
- must be requited. I hear how I am censur'd. They say I will bear
- myself proudly if I perceive the love come from her. They say too
- that she will rather die than give any sign of affection. I did
- never think to marry. I must not seem proud. Happy are they that
- hear their detractions and can put them to mending. They say the
- lady is fair--'tis a truth, I can bear them witness; and virtuous
- --'tis so, I cannot reprove it; and wise, but for loving me--by
- my troth, it is no addition to her wit, nor no great argument of
- her folly, for I will be horribly in love with her. I may chance
- have some odd quirks and remnants of wit broken on me because I
- have railed so long against marriage. But doth not the appetite
- alters? A man loves the meat in his youth that he cannot endure
- in his age. Shall quips and sentences and these paper bullets of
- the brain awe a man from the career of his humour? No, the world
- must be peopled. When I said I would die a bachelor, I did not
- think I should live till I were married.
-
- Enter Beatrice.
-
- Here comes Beatrice. By this day, she's a fair lady! I do spy
- some marks of love in her.
- Beat. Against my will I am sent to bid You come in to dinner.
- Bene. Fair Beatrice, I thank you for your pains.
- Beat. I took no more pains for those thanks than you take pains to
- thank me. If it had been painful, I would not have come.
- Bene. You take pleasure then in the message?
- Beat. Yea, just so much as you may take upon a knives point, and
- choke a daw withal. You have no stomach, signior. Fare you well.
-Exit.
- Bene. Ha! 'Against my will I am sent to bid you come in to dinner.'
- There's a double meaning in that. 'I took no more pains for those
- thanks than you took pains to thank me.' That's as much as to
- say, 'Any pains that I take for you is as easy as thanks.' If I
- do not take pity of her, I am a villain; if I do not love her, I
- am a Jew. I will go get her picture. Exit.
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT III. Scene I.
-Leonato's orchard.
-
-Enter Hero and two Gentlewomen, Margaret and Ursula.
-
- Hero. Good Margaret, run thee to the parlour.
- There shalt thou find my cousin Beatrice
- Proposing with the Prince and Claudio.
- Whisper her ear and tell her, I and Ursley
- Walk in the orchard, and our whole discourse
- Is all of her. Say that thou overheard'st us;
- And bid her steal into the pleached bower,
- Where honeysuckles, ripened by the sun,
- Forbid the sun to enter--like favourites,
- Made proud by princes, that advance their pride
- Against that power that bred it. There will she hide her
- To listen our propose. This is thy office.
- Bear thee well in it and leave us alone.
- Marg. I'll make her come, I warrant you, presently. [Exit.]
- Hero. Now, Ursula, when Beatrice doth come,
- As we do trace this alley up and down,
- Our talk must only be of Benedick.
- When I do name him, let it be thy part
- To praise him more than ever man did merit.
- My talk to thee must be how Benedick
- Is sick in love with Beatrice. Of this matter
- Is little Cupid's crafty arrow made,
- That only wounds by hearsay.
-
- [Enter Beatrice.]
-
- Now begin;
- For look where Beatrice like a lapwing runs
- Close by the ground, to hear our conference.
-
- [Beatrice hides in the arbour].
-
- Urs. The pleasant'st angling is to see the fish
- Cut with her golden oars the silver stream
- And greedily devour the treacherous bait.
- So angle we for Beatrice, who even now
- Is couched in the woodbine coverture.
- Fear you not my part of the dialogue.
- Hero. Then go we near her, that her ear lose nothing
- Of the false sweet bait that we lay for it.
- [They approach the arbour.]
- No, truly, Ursula, she is too disdainful.
- I know her spirits are as coy and wild
- As haggards of the rock.
- Urs. But are you sure
- That Benedick loves Beatrice so entirely?
- Hero. So says the Prince, and my new-trothed lord.
- Urs. And did they bid you tell her of it, madam?
- Hero. They did entreat me to acquaint her of it;
- But I persuaded them, if they lov'd Benedick,
- To wish him wrestle with affection
- And never to let Beatrice know of it.
- Urs. Why did you so? Doth not the gentleman
- Deserve as full, as fortunate a bed
- As ever Beatrice shall couch upon?
- Hero. O god of love! I know he doth deserve
- As much as may be yielded to a man:
- But Nature never fram'd a woman's heart
- Of prouder stuff than that of Beatrice.
- Disdain and scorn ride sparkling in her eyes,
- Misprizing what they look on; and her wit
- Values itself so highly that to her
- All matter else seems weak. She cannot love,
- Nor take no shape nor project of affection,
- She is so self-endeared.
- Urs. Sure I think so;
- And therefore certainly it were not good
- She knew his love, lest she'll make sport at it.
- Hero. Why, you speak truth. I never yet saw man,
- How wise, how noble, young, how rarely featur'd,
- But she would spell him backward. If fair-fac'd,
- She would swear the gentleman should be her sister;
- If black, why, Nature, drawing of an antic,
- Made a foul blot; if tall, a lance ill-headed;
- If low, an agate very vilely cut;
- If speaking, why, a vane blown with all winds;
- If silent, why, a block moved with none.
- So turns she every man the wrong side out
- And never gives to truth and virtue that
- Which simpleness and merit purchaseth.
- Urs. Sure, sure, such carping is not commendable.
- Hero. No, not to be so odd, and from all fashions,
- As Beatrice is, cannot be commendable.
- But who dare tell her so? If I should speak,
- She would mock me into air; O, she would laugh me
- Out of myself, press me to death with wit!
- Therefore let Benedick, like cover'd fire,
- Consume away in sighs, waste inwardly.
- It were a better death than die with mocks,
- Which is as bad as die with tickling.
- Urs. Yet tell her of it. Hear what she will say.
- Hero. No; rather I will go to Benedick
- And counsel him to fight against his passion.
- And truly, I'll devise some honest slanders
- To stain my cousin with. One doth not know
- How much an ill word may empoison liking.
- Urs. O, do not do your cousin such a wrong!
- She cannot be so much without true judgment
- (Having so swift and excellent a wit
- As she is priz'd to have) as to refuse
- So rare a gentleman as Signior Benedick.
- Hero. He is the only man of Italy,
- Always excepted my dear Claudio.
- Urs. I pray you be not angry with me, madam,
- Speaking my fancy: Signior Benedick,
- For shape, for bearing, argument, and valour,
- Goes foremost in report through Italy.
- Hero. Indeed he hath an excellent good name.
- Urs. His excellence did earn it ere he had it.
- When are you married, madam?
- Hero. Why, every day to-morrow! Come, go in.
- I'll show thee some attires, and have thy counsel
- Which is the best to furnish me to-morrow.
- [They walk away.]
- Urs. She's lim'd, I warrant you! We have caught her, madam.
- Hero. If it prove so, then loving goes by haps;
- Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps.
- Exeunt [Hero and Ursula].
-
- [Beatrice advances from the arbour.]
-
- Beat. What fire is in mine ears? Can this be true?
- Stand I condemn'd for pride and scorn so much?
- Contempt, farewell! and maiden pride, adieu!
- No glory lives behind the back of such.
- And, Benedick, love on; I will requite thee,
- Taming my wild heart to thy loving hand.
- If thou dost love, my kindness shall incite thee
- To bind our loves up in a holy band;
- For others say thou dost deserve, and I
- Believe it better than reportingly. Exit.
-
-
-
-
-Scene II.
-A room in Leonato's house.
-
-Enter Don Pedro, Claudio, Benedick, and Leonato.
-
- Pedro. I do but stay till your marriage be consummate, and then go
- I toward Arragon.
- Claud. I'll bring you thither, my lord, if you'll vouchsafe me.
- Pedro. Nay, that would be as great a soil in the new gloss of your
- marriage as to show a child his new coat and forbid him to wear
- it. I will only be bold with Benedick for his company; for, from
- the crown of his head to the sole of his foot, he is all mirth.
- He hath twice or thrice cut Cupid's bowstring, and the little
- hangman dare not shoot at him. He hath a heart as sound as a
- bell; and his tongue is the clapper, for what his heart thinks,
- his tongue speaks.
- Bene. Gallants, I am not as I have been.
- Leon. So say I. Methinks you are sadder.
- Claud. I hope he be in love.
- Pedro. Hang him, truant! There's no true drop of blood in him to be
- truly touch'd with love. If he be sad, he wants money.
- Bene. I have the toothache.
- Pedro. Draw it.
- Bene. Hang it!
- Claud. You must hang it first and draw it afterwards.
- Pedro. What? sigh for the toothache?
- Leon. Where is but a humour or a worm.
- Bene. Well, every one can master a grief but he that has it.
- Claud. Yet say I he is in love.
- Pedro. There is no appearance of fancy in him, unless it be a fancy
- that he hath to strange disguises; as to be a Dutchman to-day, a
- Frenchman to-morrow; or in the shape of two countries at once, as
- a German from the waist downward, all slops, and a Spaniard from
- the hip upward, no doublet. Unless he have a fancy to this
- foolery, as it appears he hath, he is no fool for fancy, as you
- would have it appear he is.
- Claud. If he be not in love with some woman, there is no believing
- old signs. 'A brushes his hat o' mornings. What should that bode?
- Pedro. Hath any man seen him at the barber's?
- Claud. No, but the barber's man hath been seen with him, and the
- old ornament of his cheek hath already stuff'd tennis balls.
- Leon. Indeed he looks younger than he did, by the loss of a beard.
- Pedro. Nay, 'a rubs himself with civet. Can you smell him out by
- that?
- Claud. That's as much as to say, the sweet youth's in love.
- Pedro. The greatest note of it is his melancholy.
- Claud. And when was he wont to wash his face?
- Pedro. Yea, or to paint himself? for the which I hear what they say
- of him.
- Claud. Nay, but his jesting spirit, which is new-crept into a
- lutestring, and now govern'd by stops.
- Pedro. Indeed that tells a heavy tale for him. Conclude, conclude,
- he is in love.
- Claud. Nay, but I know who loves him.
- Pedro. That would I know too. I warrant, one that knows him not.
- Claud. Yes, and his ill conditions; and in despite of all, dies for
- him.
- Pedro. She shall be buried with her face upwards.
- Bene. Yet is this no charm for the toothache. Old signior, walk
- aside with me. I have studied eight or nine wise words to speak
- to you, which these hobby-horses must not hear.
- [Exeunt Benedick and Leonato.]
- Pedro. For my life, to break with him about Beatrice!
- Claud. 'Tis even so. Hero and Margaret have by this played their
- parts with Beatrice, and then the two bears will not bite one
- another when they meet.
-
- Enter John the Bastard.
-
- John. My lord and brother, God save you.
- Pedro. Good den, brother.
- John. If your leisure serv'd, I would speak with you.
- Pedro. In private?
- John. If it please you. Yet Count Claudio may hear, for what I
- would speak of concerns him.
- Pedro. What's the matter?
- John. [to Claudio] Means your lordship to be married tomorrow?
- Pedro. You know he does.
- John. I know not that, when he knows what I know.
- Claud. If there be any impediment, I pray you discover it.
- John. You may think I love you not. Let that appear hereafter, and
- aim better at me by that I now will manifest. For my brother, I
- think he holds you well and in dearness of heart hath holp to
- effect your ensuing marriage--surely suit ill spent and labour
- ill bestowed!
- Pedro. Why, what's the matter?
- John. I came hither to tell you, and, circumstances short'ned (for
- she has been too long a-talking of), the lady is disloyal.
- Claud. Who? Hero?
- John. Even she--Leonato's Hero, your Hero, every man's Hero.
- Claud. Disloyal?
- John. The word is too good to paint out her wickedness. I could say
- she were worse; think you of a worse title, and I will fit her to
- it. Wonder not till further warrant. Go but with me to-night, you
- shall see her chamber window ent'red, even the night before her
- wedding day. If you love her then, to-morrow wed her. But it
- would better fit your honour to change your mind.
- Claud. May this be so?
- Pedro. I will not think it.
- John. If you dare not trust that you see, confess not that you
- know. If you will follow me, I will show you enough; and when you
- have seen more and heard more, proceed accordingly.
- Claud. If I see anything to-night why I should not marry her
- to-morrow, in the congregation where I should wed, there will I
- shame her.
- Pedro. And, as I wooed for thee to obtain her, I will join with
- thee to disgrace her.
- John. I will disparage her no farther till you are my witnesses.
- Bear it coldly but till midnight, and let the issue show itself.
- Pedro. O day untowardly turned!
- Claud. O mischief strangely thwarting!
- John. O plague right well prevented!
- So will you say when you have seen the Sequel.
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-Scene III.
-A street.
-
-Enter Dogberry and his compartner [Verges], with the Watch.
-
- Dog. Are you good men and true?
- Verg. Yea, or else it were pity but they should suffer salvation,
- body and soul.
- Dog. Nay, that were a punishment too good for them if they should
- have any allegiance in them, being chosen for the Prince's watch.
- Verg. Well, give them their charge, neighbour Dogberry.
- Dog. First, who think you the most desartless man to be constable?
- 1. Watch. Hugh Oatcake, sir, or George Seacoal; for they can write
- and read.
- Dog. Come hither, neighbour Seacoal. God hath bless'd you with a
- good name. To be a well-favoured man is the gift of fortune, but
- to write and read comes by nature.
- 2. Watch. Both which, Master Constable--
- Dog. You have. I knew it would be your answer. Well, for your
- favour, sir, why, give God thanks and make no boast of it; and
- for your writing and reading, let that appear when there is no
- need of such vanity. You are thought here to be the most
- senseless and fit man for the constable of the watch. Therefore
- bear you the lanthorn. This is your charge: you shall comprehend
- all vagrom men; you are to bid any man stand, in the Prince's
- name.
- 2. Watch. How if 'a will not stand?
- Dog. Why then, take no note of him, but let him go, and presently
- call the rest of the watch together and thank God you are rid of
- a knave.
- Verg. If he will not stand when he is bidden, he is none of the
- Prince's subjects.
- Dog. True, and they are to meddle with none but the Prince's
- subjects. You shall also make no noise in the streets; for for
- the watch to babble and to talk is most tolerable, and not to be
- endured.
- 2. Watch. We will rather sleep than talk. We know what belongs to
- a watch.
- Dog. Why, you speak like an ancient and most quiet watchman, for I
- cannot see how sleeping should offend. Only have a care that your
- bills be not stol'n. Well, you are to call at all the alehouses
- and bid those that are drunk get them to bed.
- 2. Watch. How if they will not?
- Dog. Why then, let them alone till they are sober. If they make you
- not then the better answer, You may say they are not the men you
- took them for.
- 2. Watch. Well, sir.
- Dog. If you meet a thief, you may suspect him, by virtue of your
- office, to be no true man; and for such kind of men, the less you
- meddle or make with them, why, the more your honesty.
- 2. Watch. If we know him to be a thief, shall we not lay hands on
- him?
- Dog. Truly, by your office you may; but I think they that touch
- pitch will be defil'd. The most peaceable way for you, if you do
- take a thief, is to let him show himself what he is, and steal
- out of your company.
- Verg. You have been always called a merciful man, partner.
- Dog. Truly, I would not hang a dog by my will, much more a man who
- hath any honesty in him.
- Verg. If you hear a child cry in the night, you must call to the
- nurse and bid her still it.
- 2. Watch. How if the nurse be asleep and will not hear us?
- Dog. Why then, depart in peace and let the child wake her with
- crying; for the ewe that will not hear her lamb when it baes will
- never answer a calf when he bleats.
- Verg. 'Tis very true.
- Dog. This is the end of the charge: you, constable, are to present
- the Prince's own person. If you meet the Prince in the night,
- you may stay him.
- Verg. Nay, by'r lady, that I think 'a cannot.
- Dog. Five shillings to one on't with any man that knows the
- statutes, he may stay him! Marry, not without the Prince be
- willing; for indeed the watch ought to offend no man, and it is
- an offence to stay a man against his will.
- Verg. By'r lady, I think it be so.
- Dog. Ha, ah, ha! Well, masters, good night. An there be any matter
- of weight chances, call up me. Keep your fellows' counsels and
- your own, and good night. Come, neighbour.
- 2. Watch. Well, masters, we hear our charge. Let us go sit here
- upon the church bench till two, and then all to bed.
- Dog. One word more, honest neighbours. I pray you watch about
- Signior Leonato's door; for the wedding being there tomorrow,
- there is a great coil to-night. Adieu. Be vigitant, I beseech
- you. Exeunt [Dogberry and Verges].
-
- Enter Borachio and Conrade.
-
- Bora. What, Conrade!
- 2. Watch. [aside] Peace! stir not!
- Bora. Conrade, I say!
- Con. Here, man. I am at thy elbow.
- Bora. Mass, and my elbow itch'd! I thought there would a scab
- follow.
- Con. I will owe thee an answer for that; and now forward with thy
- tale.
- Bora. Stand thee close then under this penthouse, for it drizzles
- rain, and I will, like a true drunkard, utter all to thee.
- 2. Watch. [aside] Some treason, masters. Yet stand close.
- Bora. Therefore know I have earned of Don John a thousand ducats.
- Con. Is it possible that any villany should be so dear?
- Bora. Thou shouldst rather ask if it were possible any villany
- should be so rich; for when rich villains have need of poor ones,
- poor ones may make what price they will.
- Con. I wonder at it.
- Bora. That shows thou art unconfirm'd. Thou knowest that the
- fashion of a doublet, or a hat, or a cloak, is nothing to a man.
- Con. Yes, it is apparel.
- Bora. I mean the fashion.
- Con. Yes, the fashion is the fashion.
- Bora. Tush! I may as well say the fool's the fool. But seest thou
- not what a deformed thief this fashion is?
- 2. Watch. [aside] I know that Deformed. 'A bas been a vile thief
- this seven year; 'a goes up and down like a gentleman. I remember
- his name.
- Bora. Didst thou not hear somebody?
- Con. No; 'twas the vane on the house.
- Bora. Seest thou not, I say, what a deformed thief this fashion is?
- how giddily 'a turns about all the hot-bloods between fourteen
- and five-and-thirty? sometimes fashioning them like Pharaoh's
- soldiers in the reechy painting, sometime like god Bel's priests
- in the old church window, sometime like the shaven Hercules in
- the smirch'd worm-eaten tapestry, where his codpiece seems as
- massy as his club?
- Con. All this I see; and I see that the fashion wears out more
- apparel than the man. But art not thou thyself giddy with the
- fashion too, that thou hast shifted out of thy tale into telling
- me of the fashion?
- Bora. Not so neither. But know that I have to-night wooed Margaret,
- the Lady Hero's gentlewoman, by the name of Hero. She leans me
- out at her mistress' chamber window, bids me a thousand times
- good night--I tell this tale vilely; I should first tell thee how
- the Prince, Claudio and my master, planted and placed and
- possessed by my master Don John, saw afar off in the orchard this
- amiable encounter.
- Con. And thought they Margaret was Hero?
- Bora. Two of them did, the Prince and Claudio; but the devil my
- master knew she was Margaret; and partly by his oaths, which
- first possess'd them, partly by the dark night, which did deceive
- them, but chiefly by my villany, which did confirm any slander
- that Don John had made, away went Claudio enrag'd; swore he would
- meet her, as he was appointed, next morning at the temple, and
- there, before the whole congregation, shame her with what he saw
- o'ernight and send her home again without a husband.
- 2. Watch. We charge you in the Prince's name stand!
- 1. Watch. Call up the right Master Constable. We have here
- recover'd the most dangerous piece of lechery that ever was known
- in the commonwealth.
- 2. Watch. And one Deformed is one of them. I know him; 'a wears a
- lock.
- Con. Masters, masters--
- 1. Watch. You'll be made bring Deformed forth, I warrant you.
- Con. Masters--
- 2. Watch. Never speak, we charge you. Let us obey you to go with
- us.
- Bora. We are like to prove a goodly commodity, being taken up of
- these men's bills.
- Con. A commodity in question, I warrant you. Come, we'll obey you.
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-Scene IV.
-A Room in Leonato's house.
-
-Enter Hero, and Margaret and Ursula.
-
- Hero. Good Ursula, wake my cousin Beatrice and desire her to rise.
- Urs. I will, lady.
- Hero. And bid her come hither.
- Urs. Well. [Exit.]
- Marg. Troth, I think your other rebato were better.
- Hero. No, pray thee, good Meg, I'll wear this.
- Marg. By my troth, 's not so good, and I warrant your cousin will
- say so.
- Hero. My cousin's a fool, and thou art another. I'll wear none but
- this.
- Marg. I like the new tire within excellently, if the hair were a
- thought browner; and your gown's a most rare fashion, i' faith.
- I saw the Duchess of Milan's gown that they praise so.
- Hero. O, that exceeds, they say.
- Marg. By my troth, 's but a nightgown in respect of yours--
- cloth-o'-gold and cuts, and lac'd with silver, set with pearls
- down sleeves, side-sleeves, and skirts, round underborne with
- a blush tinsel. But for a fine, quaint, graceful, and excellent
- fashion, yours is worth ten on't.
- Hero. God give me joy to wear it! for my heart is exceeding heavy.
- Marg. 'Twill be heavier soon by the weight of a man.
- Hero. Fie upon thee! art not ashamed?
- Marg. Of what, lady? of speaking honourably? Is not marriage
- honourable in a beggar? Is not your lord honourable without
- marriage? I think you would have me say, 'saving your reverence,
- a husband.' An bad thinking do not wrest true speaking, I'll
- offend nobody. Is there any harm in 'the heavier for a husband'?
- None, I think, an it be the right husband and the right wife.
- Otherwise 'tis light, and not heavy. Ask my Lady Beatrice else.
- Here she comes.
-
- Enter Beatrice.
-
- Hero. Good morrow, coz.
- Beat. Good morrow, sweet Hero.
- Hero. Why, how now? Do you speak in the sick tune?
- Beat. I am out of all other tune, methinks.
- Marg. Clap's into 'Light o' love.' That goes without a burden. Do
- you sing it, and I'll dance it.
- Beat. Yea, 'Light o' love' with your heels! then, if your husband
- have stables enough, you'll see he shall lack no barnes.
- Marg. O illegitimate construction! I scorn that with my heels.
- Beat. 'Tis almost five o'clock, cousin; 'tis time you were ready.
- By my troth, I am exceeding ill. Hey-ho!
- Marg. For a hawk, a horse, or a husband?
- Beat. For the letter that begins them all, H.
- Marg. Well, an you be not turn'd Turk, there's no more sailing by
- the star.
- Beat. What means the fool, trow?
- Marg. Nothing I; but God send every one their heart's desire!
- Hero. These gloves the Count sent me, they are an excellent
- perfume.
- Beat. I am stuff'd, cousin; I cannot smell.
- Marg. A maid, and stuff'd! There's goodly catching of cold.
- Beat. O, God help me! God help me! How long have you profess'd
- apprehension?
- Marg. Ever since you left it. Doth not my wit become me rarely?
- Beat. It is not seen enough. You should wear it in your cap. By my
- troth, I am sick.
- Marg. Get you some of this distill'd carduus benedictus and lay it
- to your heart. It is the only thing for a qualm.
- Hero. There thou prick'st her with a thistle.
- Beat. Benedictus? why benedictus? You have some moral in this
- 'benedictus.'
- Marg. Moral? No, by my troth, I have no moral meaning; I meant
- plain holy thistle. You may think perchance that I think you are
- in love. Nay, by'r lady, I am not such a fool to think what I
- list; nor I list not to think what I can; nor indeed I cannot
- think, if I would think my heart out of thinking, that you are in
- love, or that you will be in love, or that you can be in love.
- Yet Benedick was such another, and now is he become a man. He
- swore he would never marry; and yet now in despite of his heart
- he eats his meat without grudging; and how you may be converted I
- know not, but methinks you look with your eyes as other women do.
- Beat. What pace is this that thy tongue keeps?
- Marg. Not a false gallop.
-
- Enter Ursula.
-
- Urs. Madam, withdraw. The Prince, the Count, Signior Benedick, Don
- John, and all the gallants of the town are come to fetch you to
- church.
- Hero. Help to dress me, good coz, good Meg, good Ursula.
- [Exeunt.]
-
-
-
-
-Scene V.
-The hall in Leonato's house.
-
-Enter Leonato and the Constable [Dogberry] and the Headborough [verges].
-
- Leon. What would you with me, honest neighbour?
- Dog. Marry, sir, I would have some confidence with you that decerns
- you nearly.
- Leon. Brief, I pray you; for you see it is a busy time with me.
- Dog. Marry, this it is, sir.
- Verg. Yes, in truth it is, sir.
- Leon. What is it, my good friends?
- Dog. Goodman Verges, sir, speaks a little off the matter--an old
- man, sir, and his wits are not so blunt as, God help, I would
- desire they were; but, in faith, honest as the skin between his
- brows.
- Verg. Yes, I thank God I am as honest as any man living that is an
- old man and no honester than I.
- Dog. Comparisons are odorous. Palabras, neighbour Verges.
- Leon. Neighbours, you are tedious.
- Dog. It pleases your worship to say so, but we are the poor Duke's
- officers; but truly, for mine own part, if I were as tedious as a
- king, I could find in my heart to bestow it all of your worship.
- Leon. All thy tediousness on me, ah?
- Dog. Yea, in 'twere a thousand pound more than 'tis; for I hear as
- good exclamation on your worship as of any man in the city; and
- though I be but a poor man, I am glad to hear it.
- Verg. And so am I.
- Leon. I would fain know what you have to say.
- Verg. Marry, sir, our watch to-night, excepting your worship's
- presence, ha' ta'en a couple of as arrant knaves as any in
- Messina.
- Dog. A good old man, sir; he will be talking. As they say, 'When
- the age is in, the wit is out.' God help us! it is a world to
- see! Well said, i' faith, neighbour Verges. Well, God's a good
- man. An two men ride of a horse, one must ride behind. An honest
- soul, i' faith, sir, by my troth he is, as ever broke bread; but
- God is to be worshipp'd; all men are not alike, alas, good
- neighbour!
- Leon. Indeed, neighbour, he comes too short of you.
- Dog. Gifts that God gives.
- Leon. I must leave you.
- Dog. One word, sir. Our watch, sir, have indeed comprehended two
- aspicious persons, and we would have them this morning examined
- before your worship.
- Leon. Take their examination yourself and bring it me. I am now in
- great haste, as it may appear unto you.
- Dog. It shall be suffigance.
- Leon. Drink some wine ere you go. Fare you well.
-
- [Enter a Messenger.]
-
- Mess. My lord, they stay for you to give your daughter to her
- husband.
- Leon. I'll wait upon them. I am ready.
- [Exeunt Leonato and Messenger.]
- Dog. Go, good partner, go get you to Francis Seacoal; bid him bring
- his pen and inkhorn to the jail. We are now to examination these
- men.
- Verg. And we must do it wisely.
- Dog. We will spare for no wit, I warrant you. Here's that shall
- drive some of them to a non-come. Only get the learned writer to
- set down our excommunication, and meet me at the jail.
- [Exeunt.]
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT IV. Scene I.
-A church.
-
-Enter Don Pedro, [John the] Bastard, Leonato, Friar [Francis], Claudio,
-Benedick, Hero, Beatrice, [and Attendants].
-
- Leon. Come, Friar Francis, be brief. Only to the plain form of
- marriage, and you shall recount their particular duties
- afterwards.
- Friar. You come hither, my lord, to marry this lady?
- Claud. No.
- Leon. To be married to her. Friar, you come to marry her.
- Friar. Lady, you come hither to be married to this count?
- Hero. I do.
- Friar. If either of you know any inward impediment why you should
- not be conjoined, I charge you on your souls to utter it.
- Claud. Know you any, Hero?
- Hero. None, my lord.
- Friar. Know you any, Count?
- Leon. I dare make his answer--none.
- Claud. O, what men dare do! what men may do! what men daily do, not
- knowing what they do!
- Bene. How now? interjections? Why then, some be of laughing, as,
- ah, ha, he!
- Claud. Stand thee by, friar. Father, by your leave:
- Will you with free and unconstrained soul
- Give me this maid your daughter?
- Leon. As freely, son, as God did give her me.
- Claud. And what have I to give you back whose worth
- May counterpoise this rich and precious gift?
- Pedro. Nothing, unless you render her again.
- Claud. Sweet Prince, you learn me noble thankfulness.
- There, Leonato, take her back again.
- Give not this rotten orange to your friend.
- She's but the sign and semblance of her honour.
- Behold how like a maid she blushes here!
- O, what authority and show of truth
- Can cunning sin cover itself withal!
- Comes not that blood as modest evidence
- To witness simple virtue, Would you not swear,
- All you that see her, that she were a maid
- By these exterior shows? But she is none:
- She knows the heat of a luxurious bed;
- Her blush is guiltiness, not modesty.
- Leon. What do you mean, my lord?
- Claud. Not to be married,
- Not to knit my soul to an approved wanton.
- Leon. Dear my lord, if you, in your own proof,
- Have vanquish'd the resistance of her youth
- And made defeat of her virginity--
- Claud. I know what you would say. If I have known her,
- You will say she did embrace me as a husband,
- And so extenuate the forehand sin.
- No, Leonato,
- I never tempted her with word too large,
- But, as a brother to his sister, show'd
- Bashful sincerity and comely love.
- Hero. And seem'd I ever otherwise to you?
- Claud. Out on the seeming! I will write against it.
- You seem to me as Dian in her orb,
- As chaste as is the bud ere it be blown;
- But you are more intemperate in your blood
- Than Venus, or those pamp'red animals
- That rage in savage sensuality.
- Hero. Is my lord well that he doth speak so wide?
- Leon. Sweet Prince, why speak not you?
- Pedro. What should I speak?
- I stand dishonour'd that have gone about
- To link my dear friend to a common stale.
- Leon. Are these things spoken, or do I but dream?
- John. Sir, they are spoken, and these things are true.
- Bene. This looks not like a nuptial.
- Hero. 'True!' O God!
- Claud. Leonato, stand I here?
- Is this the Prince, Is this the Prince's brother?
- Is this face Hero's? Are our eyes our own?
- Leon. All this is so; but what of this, my lord?
- Claud. Let me but move one question to your daughter,
- And by that fatherly and kindly power
- That you have in her, bid her answer truly.
- Leon. I charge thee do so, as thou art my child.
- Hero. O, God defend me! How am I beset!
- What kind of catechising call you this?
- Claud. To make you answer truly to your name.
- Hero. Is it not Hero? Who can blot that name
- With any just reproach?
- Claud. Marry, that can Hero!
- Hero itself can blot out Hero's virtue.
- What man was he talk'd with you yesternight,
- Out at your window betwixt twelve and one?
- Now, if you are a maid, answer to this.
- Hero. I talk'd with no man at that hour, my lord.
- Pedro. Why, then are you no maiden. Leonato,
- I am sorry you must hear. Upon my honour,
- Myself, my brother, and this grieved Count
- Did see her, hear her, at that hour last night
- Talk with a ruffian at her chamber window,
- Who hath indeed, most like a liberal villain,
- Confess'd the vile encounters they have had
- A thousand times in secret.
- John. Fie, fie! they are not to be nam'd, my lord--
- Not to be spoke of;
- There is not chastity, enough in language
- Without offence to utter them. Thus, pretty lady,
- I am sorry for thy much misgovernment.
- Claud. O Hero! what a Hero hadst thou been
- If half thy outward graces had been plac'd
- About thy thoughts and counsels of thy heart!
- But fare thee well, most foul, most fair! Farewell,
- Thou pure impiety and impious purity!
- For thee I'll lock up all the gates of love,
- And on my eyelids shall conjecture hang,
- To turn all beauty into thoughts of harm,
- And never shall it more be gracious.
- Leon. Hath no man's dagger here a point for me?
- [Hero swoons.]
- Beat. Why, how now, cousin? Wherefore sink you down?
- John. Come let us go. These things, come thus to light,
- Smother her spirits up.
- [Exeunt Don Pedro, Don Juan, and Claudio.]
- Bene. How doth the lady?
- Beat. Dead, I think. Help, uncle!
- Hero! why, Hero! Uncle! Signior Benedick! Friar!
- Leon. O Fate, take not away thy heavy hand!
- Death is the fairest cover for her shame
- That may be wish'd for.
- Beat. How now, cousin Hero?
- Friar. Have comfort, lady.
- Leon. Dost thou look up?
- Friar. Yea, wherefore should she not?
- Leon. Wherefore? Why, doth not every earthly thing
- Cry shame upon her? Could she here deny
- The story that is printed in her blood?
- Do not live, Hero; do not ope thine eyes;
- For, did I think thou wouldst not quickly die,
- Thought I thy spirits were stronger than thy shames,
- Myself would on the rearward of reproaches
- Strike at thy life. Griev'd I, I had but one?
- Child I for that at frugal nature's frame?
- O, one too much by thee! Why had I one?
- Why ever wast thou lovely in my eyes?
- Why had I not with charitable hand
- Took up a beggar's issue at my gates,
- Who smirched thus and mir'd with infamy,
- I might have said, 'No part of it is mine;
- This shame derives itself from unknown loins'?
- But mine, and mine I lov'd, and mine I prais'd,
- And mine that I was proud on--mine so much
- That I myself was to myself not mine,
- Valuing of her--why, she, O, she is fall'n
- Into a pit of ink, that the wide sea
- Hath drops too few to wash her clean again,
- And salt too little which may season give
- To her foul tainted flesh!
- Bene. Sir, sir, be patient.
- For my part, I am so attir'd in wonder,
- I know not what to say.
- Beat. O, on my soul, my cousin is belied!
- Bene. Lady, were you her bedfellow last night?
- Beat. No, truly, not; although, until last night,
- I have this twelvemonth been her bedfellow
- Leon. Confirm'd, confirm'd! O, that is stronger made
- Which was before barr'd up with ribs of iron!
- Would the two princes lie? and Claudio lie,
- Who lov'd her so that, speaking of her foulness,
- Wash'd it with tears? Hence from her! let her die.
- Friar. Hear me a little;
- For I have only been silent so long,
- And given way unto this course of fortune,
- By noting of the lady. I have mark'd
- A thousand blushing apparitions
- To start into her face, a thousand innocent shames
- In angel whiteness beat away those blushes,
- And in her eye there hath appear'd a fire
- To burn the errors that these princes hold
- Against her maiden truth. Call me a fool;
- Trust not my reading nor my observation,
- Which with experimental seal doth warrant
- The tenure of my book; trust not my age,
- My reverence, calling, nor divinity,
- If this sweet lady lie not guiltless here
- Under some biting error.
- Leon. Friar, it cannot be.
- Thou seest that all the grace that she hath left
- Is that she will not add to her damnation
- A sin of perjury: she not denies it.
- Why seek'st thou then to cover with excuse
- That which appears in proper nakedness?
- Friar. Lady, what man is he you are accus'd of?
- Hero. They know that do accuse me; I know none.
- If I know more of any man alive
- Than that which maiden modesty doth warrant,
- Let all my sins lack mercy! O my father,
- Prove you that any man with me convers'd
- At hours unmeet, or that I yesternight
- Maintain'd the change of words with any creature,
- Refuse me, hate me, torture me to death!
- Friar. There is some strange misprision in the princes.
- Bene. Two of them have the very bent of honour;
- And if their wisdoms be misled in this,
- The practice of it lives in John the bastard,
- Whose spirits toil in frame of villanies.
- Leon. I know not. If they speak but truth of her,
- These hands shall tear her. If they wrong her honour,
- The proudest of them shall well hear of it.
- Time hath not yet so dried this blood of mine,
- Nor age so eat up my invention,
- Nor fortune made such havoc of my means,
- Nor my bad life reft me so much of friends,
- But they shall find awak'd in such a kind
- Both strength of limb and policy of mind,
- Ability in means, and choice of friends,
- To quit me of them throughly.
- Friar. Pause awhile
- And let my counsel sway you in this case.
- Your daughter here the princes left for dead,
- Let her awhile be secretly kept in,
- And publish it that she is dead indeed;
- Maintain a mourning ostentation,
- And on your family's old monument
- Hang mournful epitaphs, and do all rites
- That appertain unto a burial.
- Leon. What shall become of this? What will this do?
- Friar. Marry, this well carried shall on her behalf
- Change slander to remorse. That is some good.
- But not for that dream I on this strange course,
- But on this travail look for greater birth.
- She dying, as it must be so maintain'd,
- Upon the instant that she was accus'd,
- Shall be lamented, pitied, and excus'd
- Of every hearer; for it so falls out
- That what we have we prize not to the worth
- Whiles we enjoy it, but being lack'd and lost,
- Why, then we rack the value, then we find
- The virtue that possession would not show us
- Whiles it was ours. So will it fare with Claudio.
- When he shall hear she died upon his words,
- Th' idea of her life shall sweetly creep
- Into his study of imagination,
- And every lovely organ of her life
- Shall come apparell'd in more precious habit,
- More moving, delicate, and full of life,
- Into the eye and prospect of his soul
- Than when she liv'd indeed. Then shall he mourn
- (If ever love had interest in his liver)
- And wish he had not so accused her--
- No, though be thought his accusation true.
- Let this be so, and doubt not but success
- Will fashion the event in better shape
- Than I can lay it down in likelihood.
- But if all aim but this be levell'd false,
- The supposition of the lady's death
- Will quench the wonder of her infamy.
- And if it sort not well, you may conceal her,
- As best befits her wounded reputation,
- In some reclusive and religious life,
- Out of all eyes, tongues, minds, and injuries.
- Bene. Signior Leonato, let the friar advise you;
- And though you know my inwardness and love
- Is very much unto the Prince and Claudio,
- Yet, by mine honour, I will deal in this
- As secretly and justly as your soul
- Should with your body.
- Leon. Being that I flow in grief,
- The smallest twine may lead me.
- Friar. 'Tis well consented. Presently away;
- For to strange sores strangely they strain the cure.
- Come, lady, die to live. This wedding day
- Perhaps is but prolong'd. Have patience and endure.
- Exeunt [all but Benedick and Beatrice].
- Bene. Lady Beatrice, have you wept all this while?
- Beat. Yea, and I will weep a while longer.
- Bene. I will not desire that.
- Beat. You have no reason. I do it freely.
- Bene. Surely I do believe your fair cousin is wronged.
- Beat. Ah, how much might the man deserve of me that would right
- her!
- Bene. Is there any way to show such friendship?
- Beat. A very even way, but no such friend.
- Bene. May a man do it?
- Beat. It is a man's office, but not yours.
- Bene. I do love nothing in the world so well as you. Is not that
- strange?
- Beat. As strange as the thing I know not. It were as possible for
- me to say I loved nothing so well as you. But believe me not; and
- yet I lie not. I confess nothing, nor I deny nothing. I am sorry
- for my cousin.
- Bene. By my sword, Beatrice, thou lovest me.
- Beat. Do not swear, and eat it.
- Bene. I will swear by it that you love me, and I will make him eat
- it that says I love not you.
- Beat. Will you not eat your word?
- Bene. With no sauce that can be devised to it. I protest I love
- thee.
- Beat. Why then, God forgive me!
- Bene. What offence, sweet Beatrice?
- Beat. You have stayed me in a happy hour. I was about to protest I
- loved you.
- Bene. And do it with all thy heart.
- Beat. I love you with so much of my heart that none is left to
- protest.
- Bene. Come, bid me do anything for thee.
- Beat. Kill Claudio.
- Bene. Ha! not for the wide world!
- Beat. You kill me to deny it. Farewell.
- Bene. Tarry, sweet Beatrice.
- Beat. I am gone, though I am here. There is no love in you. Nay, I
- pray you let me go.
- Bene. Beatrice--
- Beat. In faith, I will go.
- Bene. We'll be friends first.
- Beat. You dare easier be friends with me than fight with mine
- enemy.
- Bene. Is Claudio thine enemy?
- Beat. Is 'a not approved in the height a villain, that hath
- slandered, scorned, dishonoured my kinswoman? O that I were a
- man! What? bear her in hand until they come to take hands, and
- then with public accusation, uncover'd slander, unmitigated
- rancour--O God, that I were a man! I would eat his heart in the
- market place.
- Bene. Hear me, Beatrice!
- Beat. Talk with a man out at a window!-a proper saying!
- Bene. Nay but Beatrice--
- Beat. Sweet Hero! she is wrong'd, she is sland'red, she is undone.
- Bene. Beat--
- Beat. Princes and Counties! Surely a princely testimony, a goodly
- count, Count Comfect, a sweet gallant surely! O that I were a man
- for his sake! or that I had any friend would be a man for my
- sake! But manhood is melted into cursies, valour into compliment,
- and men are only turn'd into tongue, and trim ones too. He is now
- as valiant as Hercules that only tells a lie,and swears it. I
- cannot be a man with wishing; therefore I will die a woman with
- grieving.
- Bene. Tarry, good Beatrice. By this hand, I love thee.
- Beat. Use it for my love some other way than swearing by it.
- Bene. Think you in your soul the Count Claudio hath wrong'd Hero?
- Beat. Yea, as sure is I have a thought or a soul.
- Bene. Enough, I am engag'd, I will challenge him. I will kiss your
- hand, and so I leave you. By this hand, Claudio shall render me a
- dear account. As you hear of me, so think of me. Go comfort your
- cousin. I must say she is dead-and so farewell.
- [Exeunt.]
-
-
-
-
-Scene II.
-A prison.
-
-Enter the Constables [Dogberry and Verges] and the Sexton, in gowns,
-[and the Watch, with Conrade and] Borachio.
-
- Dog. Is our whole dissembly appear'd?
- Verg. O, a stool and a cushion for the sexton.
- Sex. Which be the malefactors?
- Dog. Marry, that am I and my partner.
- Verg. Nay, that's certain. We have the exhibition to examine.
- Sex. But which are the offenders that are to be examined? let them
- come before Master Constable.
- Dog. Yea, marry, let them come before me. What is your name,
- friend?
- Bor. Borachio.
- Dog. Pray write down Borachio. Yours, sirrah?
- Con. I am a gentleman, sir, and my name is Conrade.
- Dog. Write down Master Gentleman Conrade. Masters, do you serve
- God?
- Both. Yea, sir, we hope.
- Dog. Write down that they hope they serve God; and write God first,
- for God defend but God should go before such villains! Masters,
- it is proved already that you are little better than false
- knaves, and it will go near to be thought so shortly. How answer
- you for yourselves?
- Con. Marry, sir, we say we are none.
- Dog. A marvellous witty fellow, I assure you; but I will go about
- with him. Come you hither, sirrah. A word in your ear. Sir, I say
- to you, it is thought you are false knaves.
- Bora. Sir, I say to you we are none.
- Dog. Well, stand aside. Fore God, they are both in a tale.
- Have you writ down that they are none?
- Sex. Master Constable, you go not the way to examine. You must call
- forth the watch that are their accusers.
- Dog. Yea, marry, that's the eftest way. Let the watch come forth.
- Masters, I charge you in the Prince's name accuse these men.
- 1. Watch. This man said, sir, that Don John the Prince's brother
- was a villain.
- Dog. Write down Prince John a villain. Why, this is flat perjury,
- to call a prince's brother villain.
- Bora. Master Constable--
- Dog. Pray thee, fellow, peace. I do not like thy look, I promise
- thee.
- Sex. What heard you him say else?
- 2. Watch. Marry, that he had received a thousand ducats of Don John
- for accusing the Lady Hero wrongfully.
- Dog. Flat burglary as ever was committed.
- Verg. Yea, by th' mass, that it is.
- Sex. What else, fellow?
- 1. Watch. And that Count Claudio did mean, upon his words, to
- disgrace Hero before the whole assembly, and not marry her.
- Dog. O villain! thou wilt be condemn'd into everlasting redemption
- for this.
- Sex. What else?
- Watchmen. This is all.
- Sex. And this is more, masters, than you can deny. Prince John is
- this morning secretly stol'n away. Hero was in this manner
- accus'd, in this manner refus'd, and upon the grief of this
- suddenly died. Master Constable, let these men be bound and
- brought to Leonato's. I will go before and show him their
- examination. [Exit.]
- Dog. Come, let them be opinion'd.
- Verg. Let them be in the hands--
- Con. Off, coxcomb!
- Dog. God's my life, where's the sexton? Let him write down the
- Prince's officer coxcomb. Come, bind them.--Thou naughty varlet!
- Con. Away! you are an ass, you are an ass.
- Dog. Dost thou not suspect my place? Dost thou not suspect my
- years? O that he were here to write me down an ass! But, masters,
- remember that I am an ass. Though it be not written down, yet
- forget not that I am an ass. No, thou villain, thou art full of
- piety, as shall be prov'd upon thee by good witness. I am a wise
- fellow; and which is more, an officer; and which is more, a
- householder; and which is more, as pretty a piece of flesh as any
- is in Messina, and one that knows the law, go to! and a rich
- fellow enough, go to! and a fellow that hath had losses; and one
- that hath two gowns and everything handsome about him. Bring him
- away. O that I had been writ down an ass!
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT V. Scene I.
-The street, near Leonato's house.
-
-Enter Leonato and his brother [ Antonio].
-
- Ant. If you go on thus, you will kill yourself,
- And 'tis not wisdom thus to second grief
- Against yourself.
- Leon. I pray thee cease thy counsel,
- Which falls into mine ears as profitless
- As water in a sieve. Give not me counsel,
- Nor let no comforter delight mine ear
- But such a one whose wrongs do suit with mine.
- Bring me a father that so lov'd his child,
- Whose joy of her is overwhelm'd like mine,
- And bid him speak to me of patience.
- Measure his woe the length and breadth of mine,
- And let it answer every strain for strain,
- As thus for thus, and such a grief for such,
- In every lineament, branch, shape, and form.
- If such a one will smile and stroke his beard,
- Bid sorrow wag, cry 'hem' when he should groan,
- Patch grief with proverbs, make misfortune drunk
- With candle-wasters--bring him yet to me,
- And I of him will gather patience.
- But there is no such man; for, brother, men
- Can counsel and speak comfort to that grief
- Which they themselves not feel; but, tasting it,
- Their counsel turns to passion, which before
- Would give preceptial medicine to rage,
- Fetter strong madness in a silken thread,
- Charm ache with air and agony with words.
- No, no! 'Tis all men's office to speak patience
- To those that wring under the load of sorrow,
- But no man's virtue nor sufficiency
- To be so moral when he shall endure
- The like himself. Therefore give me no counsel.
- My griefs cry louder than advertisement.
- Ant. Therein do men from children nothing differ.
- Leon. I pray thee peace. I will be flesh and blood;
- For there was never yet philosopher
- That could endure the toothache patiently,
- However they have writ the style of gods
- And made a push at chance and sufferance.
- Ant. Yet bend not all the harm upon yourself.
- Make those that do offend you suffer too.
- Leon. There thou speak'st reason. Nay, I will do so.
- My soul doth tell me Hero is belied;
- And that shall Claudio know; so shall the Prince,
- And all of them that thus dishonour her.
-
- Enter Don Pedro and Claudio.
-
- Ant. Here comes the Prince and Claudio hastily.
- Pedro. Good den, Good den.
- Claud. Good day to both of you.
- Leon. Hear you, my lords!
- Pedro. We have some haste, Leonato.
- Leon. Some haste, my lord! well, fare you well, my lord.
- Are you so hasty now? Well, all is one.
- Pedro. Nay, do not quarrel with us, good old man.
- Ant. If he could right himself with quarrelling,
- Some of us would lie low.
- Claud. Who wrongs him?
- Leon. Marry, thou dost wrong me, thou dissembler, thou!
- Nay, never lay thy hand upon thy sword;
- I fear thee not.
- Claud. Mary, beshrew my hand
- If it should give your age such cause of fear.
- In faith, my hand meant nothing to my sword.
- Leon. Tush, tush, man! never fleer and jest at me
- I speak not like a dotard nor a fool,
- As under privilege of age to brag
- What I have done being young, or what would do,
- Were I not old. Know, Claudio, to thy head,
- Thou hast so wrong'd mine innocent child and me
- That I am forc'd to lay my reverence by
- And, with grey hairs and bruise of many days,
- Do challenge thee to trial of a man.
- I say thou hast belied mine innocent child;
- Thy slander hath gone through and through her heart,
- And she lied buried with her ancestors-
- O, in a tomb where never scandal slept,
- Save this of hers, fram'd by thy villany!
- Claud. My villany?
- Leon. Thine, Claudio; thine I say.
- Pedro. You say not right, old man
- Leon. My lord, my lord,
- I'll prove it on his body if he dare,
- Despite his nice fence and his active practice,
- His May of youth and bloom of lustihood.
- Claud. Away! I will not have to do with you.
- Leon. Canst thou so daff me? Thou hast kill'd my child.
- If thou kill'st me, boy, thou shalt kill a man.
- And. He shall kill two of us, and men indeed
- But that's no matter; let him kill one first.
- Win me and wear me! Let him answer me.
- Come, follow me, boy,. Come, sir boy, come follow me.
- Sir boy, I'll whip you from your foining fence!
- Nay, as I am a gentleman, I will.
- Leon. Brother--
- Ant. Content yourself. God knows I lov'd my niece,
- And she is dead, slander'd to death by villains,
- That dare as well answer a man indeed
- As I dare take a serpent by the tongue.
- Boys, apes, braggarts, jacks, milksops!
- Leon. Brother Anthony--
- Ant. Hold you content. What, man! I know them, yea,
- And what they weigh, even to the utmost scruple,
- Scambling, outfacing, fashion-monging boys,
- That lie and cog and flout, deprave and slander,
- Go anticly, show outward hideousness,
- And speak off half a dozen dang'rous words,
- How they might hurt their enemies, if they durst;
- And this is all.
- Leon. But, brother Anthony--
- Ant. Come, 'tis no matter.
- Do not you meddle; let me deal in this.
- Pedro. Gentlemen both, we will not wake your patience.
- My heart is sorry for your daughter's death;
- But, on my honour, she was charg'd with nothing
- But what was true, and very full of proof.
- Leon. My lord, my lord--
- Pedro. I will not hear you.
- Leon. No? Come, brother, away!--I will be heard.
- Ant. And shall, or some of us will smart for it.
- Exeunt ambo.
-
- Enter Benedick.
-
- Pedro. See, see! Here comes the man we went to seek.
- Claud. Now, signior, what news?
- Bene. Good day, my lord.
- Pedro. Welcome, signior. You are almost come to part almost a fray.
- Claud. We had lik'd to have had our two noses snapp'd off with two
- old men without teeth.
- Pedro. Leonato and his brother. What think'st thou? Had we fought,
- I doubt we should have been too young for them.
- Bene. In a false quarrel there is no true valour. I came to seek
- you both.
- Claud. We have been up and down to seek thee; for we are high-proof
- melancholy, and would fain have it beaten away. Wilt thou use thy
- wit?
- Bene. It is in my scabbard. Shall I draw it?
- Pedro. Dost thou wear thy wit by thy side?
- Claud. Never any did so, though very many have been beside their
- wit. I will bid thee draw, as we do the minstrel--draw to
- pleasure us.
- Pedro. As I am an honest man, he looks pale. Art thou sick or
- angry?
- Claud. What, courage, man! What though care kill'd a cat, thou hast
- mettle enough in thee to kill care.
- Bene. Sir, I shall meet your wit in the career an you charge it
- against me. I pray you choose another subject.
- Claud. Nay then, give him another staff; this last was broke cross.
- Pedro. By this light, he changes more and more. I think he be angry
- indeed.
- Claud. If he be, he knows how to turn his girdle.
- Bene. Shall I speak a word in your ear?
- Claud. God bless me from a challenge!
- Bene. [aside to Claudio] You are a villain. I jest not; I will make
- it good how you dare, with what you dare, and when you dare. Do
- me right, or I will protest your cowardice. You have kill'd a
- sweet lady, and her death shall fall heavy on you. Let me hear
- from you.
- Claud. Well, I will meet you, so I may have good cheer.
- Pedro. What, a feast, a feast?
- Claud. I' faith, I thank him, he hath bid me to a calve's head and
- a capon, the which if I do not carve most curiously, say my
- knife's naught. Shall I not find a woodcock too?
- Bene. Sir, your wit ambles well; it goes easily.
- Pedro. I'll tell thee how Beatrice prais'd thy wit the other day. I
- said thou hadst a fine wit: 'True,' said she, 'a fine little
- one.' 'No,' said I, 'a great wit.' 'Right,' says she, 'a great
- gross one.' 'Nay,' said I, 'a good wit.' 'Just,' said she, 'it
- hurts nobody.' 'Nay,' said I, 'the gentleman is wise.' 'Certain,'
- said she, a wise gentleman.' 'Nay,' said I, 'he hath the
- tongues.' 'That I believe' said she, 'for he swore a thing to me
- on Monday night which he forswore on Tuesday morning. There's a
- double tongue; there's two tongues.' Thus did she an hour
- together transshape thy particular virtues. Yet at last she
- concluded with a sigh, thou wast the proper'st man in Italy.
- Claud. For the which she wept heartily and said she cared not.
- Pedro. Yea, that she did; but yet, for all that, an if she did not
- hate him deadly, she would love him dearly. The old man's
- daughter told us all.
- Claud. All, all! and moreover, God saw him when he was hid in the
- garden.
- Pedro. But when shall we set the savage bull's horns on the
- sensible Benedick's head?
- Claud. Yea, and text underneath, 'Here dwells Benedick, the married
- man'?
- Bene. Fare you well, boy; you know my mind. I will leave you now to
- your gossiplike humour. You break jests as braggards do their
- blades, which God be thanked hurt not. My lord, for your many
- courtesies I thank you. I must discontinue your company. Your
- brother the bastard is fled from Messina. You have among you
- kill'd a sweet and innocent lady. For my Lord Lackbeard there, he
- and I shall meet; and till then peace be with him.
- [Exit.]
- Pedro. He is in earnest.
- Claud. In most profound earnest; and, I'll warrant you, for the
- love of Beatrice.
- Pedro. And hath challeng'd thee.
- Claud. Most sincerely.
- Pedro. What a pretty thing man is when he goes in his doublet and
- hose and leaves off his wit!
-
- Enter Constables [Dogberry and Verges, with the Watch, leading]
- Conrade and Borachio.
-
- Claud. He is then a giant to an ape; but then is an ape a doctor to
- such a man.
- Pedro. But, soft you, let me be! Pluck up, my heart, and be sad!
- Did he not say my brother was fled?
- Dog. Come you, sir. If justice cannot tame you, she shall ne'er
- weigh more reasons in her balance. Nay, an you be a cursing
- hypocrite once, you must be look'd to.
- Pedro. How now? two of my brother's men bound? Borachio one.
- Claud. Hearken after their offence, my lord.
- Pedro. Officers, what offence have these men done?
- Dog. Marry, sir, they have committed false report; moreover, they
- have spoken untruths; secondarily, they are slanders; sixth and
- lastly, they have belied a lady; thirdly, they have verified
- unjust things; and to conclude, they are lying knaves.
- Pedro. First, I ask thee what they have done; thirdly, I ask thee
- what's their offence; sixth and lastly, why they are committed;
- and to conclude, what you lay to their charge.
- Claud. Rightly reasoned, and in his own division; and by my troth
- there's one meaning well suited.
- Pedro. Who have you offended, masters, that you are thus bound to
- your answer? This learned constable is too cunning to be
- understood. What's your offence?
- Bora. Sweet Prince, let me go no farther to mine answer. Do you
- hear me, and let this Count kill me. I have deceived even your
- very eyes. What your wisdoms could not discover, these shallow
- fools have brought to light, who in the night overheard me
- confessing to this man, how Don John your brother incensed me to
- slander the Lady Hero; how you were brought into the orchard and
- saw me court Margaret in Hero's garments; how you disgrac'd her
- when you should marry her. My villany they have upon record,
- which I had rather seal with my death than repeat over to my
- shame. The lady is dead upon mine and my master's false
- accusation; and briefly, I desire nothing but the reward of a
- villain.
- Pedro. Runs not this speech like iron through your blood?
- Claud. I have drunk poison whiles he utter'd it.
- Pedro. But did my brother set thee on to this?
- Bora. Yea, and paid me richly for the practice of it.
- Pedro. He is compos'd and fram'd of treachery,
- And fled he is upon this villany.
- Claud. Sweet Hero, now thy image doth appear
- In the rare semblance that I lov'd it first.
- Dog. Come, bring away the plaintiffs. By this time our sexton hath
- reformed Signior Leonato of the matter. And, masters, do not
- forget to specify, when time and place shall serve, that I am an
- ass.
- Verg. Here, here comes Master Signior Leonato, and the sexton too.
-
- Enter Leonato, his brother [Antonio], and the Sexton.
-
- Leon. Which is the villain? Let me see his eyes,
- That, when I note another man like him,
- I may avoid him. Which of these is he?
- Bora. If you would know your wronger, look on me.
- Leon. Art thou the slave that with thy breath hast kill'd
- Mine innocent child?
- Bora. Yea, even I alone.
- Leon. No, not so, villain! thou beliest thyself.
- Here stand a pair of honourable men--
- A third is fled--that had a hand in it.
- I thank you princes for my daughter's death.
- Record it with your high and worthy deeds.
- 'Twas bravely done, if you bethink you of it.
- Claud. I know not how to pray your patience;
- Yet I must speak. Choose your revenge yourself;
- Impose me to what penance your invention
- Can lay upon my sin. Yet sinn'd I not
- But in mistaking.
- Pedro. By my soul, nor I!
- And yet, to satisfy this good old man,
- I would bend under any heavy weight
- That he'll enjoin me to.
- Leon. I cannot bid you bid my daughter live-
- That were impossible; but I pray you both,
- Possess the people in Messina here
- How innocent she died; and if your love
- Can labour aught in sad invention,
- Hang her an epitaph upon her tomb,
- And sing it to her bones--sing it to-night.
- To-morrow morning come you to my house,
- And since you could not be my son-in-law,
- Be yet my nephew. My brother hath a daughter,
- Almost the copy of my child that's dead,
- And she alone is heir to both of us.
- Give her the right you should have giv'n her cousin,
- And so dies my revenge.
- Claud. O noble sir!
- Your over-kindness doth wring tears from me.
- I do embrace your offer; and dispose
- For henceforth of poor Claudio.
- Leon. To-morrow then I will expect your coming;
- To-night I take my leave. This naughty man
- Shall fact to face be brought to Margaret,
- Who I believe was pack'd in all this wrong,
- Hir'd to it by your brother.
- Bora. No, by my soul, she was not;
- Nor knew not what she did when she spoke to me;
- But always hath been just and virtuous
- In anything that I do know by her.
- Dog. Moreover, sir, which indeed is not under white and black, this
- plaintiff here, the offender, did call me ass. I beseech you let
- it be rememb'red in his punishment. And also the watch heard them
- talk of one Deformed. They say he wears a key in his ear, and a
- lock hanging by it, and borrows money in God's name, the which he
- hath us'd so long and never paid that now men grow hard-hearted
- and will lend nothing for God's sake. Pray you examine him upon
- that point.
- Leon. I thank thee for thy care and honest pains.
- Dog. Your worship speaks like a most thankful and reverent youth,
- and I praise God for you.
- Leon. There's for thy pains. [Gives money.]
- Dog. God save the foundation!
- Leon. Go, I discharge thee of thy prisoner, and I thank thee.
- Dog. I leave an arrant knave with your worship, which I beseech
- your worship to correct yourself, for the example of others.
- God keep your worship! I wish your worship well. God restore you
- to health! I humbly give you leave to depart; and if a merry
- meeting may be wish'd, God prohibit it! Come, neighbour.
- Exeunt [Dogberry and Verges].
- Leon. Until to-morrow morning, lords, farewell.
- Ant. Farewell, my lords. We look for you to-morrow.
- Pedro. We will not fall.
- Claud. To-night I'll mourn with Hero.
- [Exeunt Don Pedro and Claudio.]
- Leon. [to the Watch] Bring you these fellows on.--We'll talk with
- Margaret,
- How her acquaintance grew with this lewd fellow.
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-Scene II.
-Leonato's orchard.
-
-Enter Benedick and Margaret [meeting].
-
- Bene. Pray thee, sweet Mistress Margaret, deserve well at my hands
- by helping me to the speech of Beatrice.
- Marg. Will you then write me a sonnet in praise of my beauty?
- Bene. In so high a style, Margaret, that no man living shall come
- over it; for in most comely truth thou deservest it.
- Marg. To have no man come over me? Why, shall I always keep below
- stairs?
- Bene. Thy wit is as quick as the greyhound's mouth--it catches.
- Marg. And yours as blunt as the fencer's foils, which hit but hurt
- not.
- Bene. A most manly wit, Margaret: it will not hurt a woman.
- And so I pray thee call Beatrice. I give thee the bucklers.
- Marg. Give us the swords; we have bucklers of our own.
- Bene. If you use them, Margaret, you must put in the pikes with a
- vice, and they are dangerous weapons for maids.
- Marg. Well, I will call Beatrice to you, who I think hath legs.
- Bene. And therefore will come.
- Exit Margaret.
- [Sings] The god of love,
- That sits above
- And knows me, and knows me,
- How pitiful I deserve--
-
- I mean in singing; but in loving Leander the good swimmer,
- Troilus the first employer of panders, and a whole book full of
- these quondam carpet-mongers, whose names yet run smoothly in the
- even road of a blank verse--why, they were never so truly turn'd
- over and over as my poor self in love. Marry, I cannot show it in
- rhyme. I have tried. I can find out no rhyme to 'lady' but 'baby'
- --an innocent rhyme; for 'scorn,' 'horn'--a hard rhyme; for
- 'school', 'fool'--a babbling rhyme: very ominous endings! No, I
- was not born under a rhyming planet, nor cannot woo in festival
- terms.
-
- Enter Beatrice.
-
- Sweet Beatrice, wouldst thou come when I call'd thee?
- Beat. Yea, signior, and depart when you bid me.
- Bene. O, stay but till then!
- Beat. 'Then' is spoken. Fare you well now. And yet, ere I go, let
- me go with that I came for, which is, with knowing what hath
- pass'd between you and Claudio.
- Bene. Only foul words; and thereupon I will kiss thee.
- Beat. Foul words is but foul wind, and foul wind is but foul
- breath, and foul breath is noisome. Therefore I will depart
- unkiss'd.
- Bene. Thou hast frighted the word out of his right sense, so
- forcible is thy wit. But I must tell thee plainly, Claudio
- undergoes my challenge; and either I must shortly hear from him
- or I will subscribe him a coward. And I pray thee now tell me,
- for which of my bad parts didst thou first fall in love with me?
- Beat. For them all together, which maintain'd so politic a state of
- evil that they will not admit any good part to intermingle with
- them. But for which of my good parts did you first suffer love
- for me?
- Bene. Suffer love!--a good epithet. I do suffer love indeed, for I
- love thee against my will.
- Beat. In spite of your heart, I think. Alas, poor heart! If you
- spite it for my sake, I will spite it for yours, for I will never
- love that which my friend hates.
- Bene. Thou and I are too wise to woo peaceably.
- Beat. It appears not in this confession. There's not one wise man
- among twenty, that will praise himself.
- Bene. An old, an old instance, Beatrice, that liv'd in the time of
- good neighbours. If a man do not erect in this age his own tomb
- ere he dies, he shall live no longer in monument than the bell
- rings and the widow weeps.
- Beat. And how long is that, think you?
- Bene. Question: why, an hour in clamour and a quarter in rheum.
- Therefore is it most expedient for the wise, if Don Worm (his
- conscience) find no impediment to the contrary, to be the trumpet
- of his own virtues, as I am to myself. So much for praising
- myself, who, I myself will bear witness, is praiseworthy. And now
- tell me, how doth your cousin?
- Beat. Very ill.
- Bene. And how do you?
- Beat. Very ill too.
- Bene. Serve God, love me, and mend. There will I leave you too, for
- here comes one in haste.
-
- Enter Ursula.
-
- Urs. Madam, you must come to your uncle. Yonder's old coil at home.
- It is proved my Lady Hero hath been falsely accus'd, the Prince
- and Claudio mightily abus'd, and Don John is the author of all,
- who is fled and gone. Will you come presently?
- Beat. Will you go hear this news, signior?
- Bene. I will live in thy heart, die in thy lap, and be buried thy
- eyes; and moreover, I will go with thee to thy uncle's.
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-Scene III.
-A churchyard.
-
-Enter Claudio, Don Pedro, and three or four with tapers,
-[followed by Musicians].
-
- Claud. Is this the monument of Leonato?
- Lord. It is, my lord.
- Claud. [reads from a scroll]
-
- Epitaph.
-
- Done to death by slanderous tongues
- Was the Hero that here lies.
- Death, in guerdon of her wrongs,
- Gives her fame which never dies.
- So the life that died with shame
- Lives in death with glorious fame.
-
- Hang thou there upon the tomb,
- [Hangs up the scroll.]
- Praising her when I am dumb.
- Now, music, sound, and sing your solemn hymn.
-
- Song.
-
- Pardon, goddess of the night,
- Those that slew thy virgin knight;
- For the which, with songs of woe,
- Round about her tomb they go.
- Midnight, assist our moan,
- Help us to sigh and groan
- Heavily, heavily,
- Graves, yawn and yield your dead,
- Till death be uttered
- Heavily, heavily.
-
- Claud. Now unto thy bones good night!
- Yearly will I do this rite.
- Pedro. Good morrow, masters. Put your torches out.
- The wolves have prey'd, and look, the gentle day,
- Before the wheels of Phoebus, round about
- Dapples the drowsy east with spots of grey.
- Thanks to you all, and leave us. Fare you well.
- Claud. Good morrow, masters. Each his several way.
- Pedro. Come, let us hence and put on other weeds,
- And then to Leonato's we will go.
- Claud. And Hymen now with luckier issue speeds
- Than this for whom we rend'red up this woe. Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-Scene IV
-The hall in Leonato's house.
-
-Enter Leonato, Benedick, [Beatrice,] Margaret, Ursula, Antonio,
-Friar [Francis], Hero.
-
- Friar. Did I not tell you she was innocent?
- Leon. So are the Prince and Claudio, who accus'd her
- Upon the error that you heard debated.
- But Margaret was in some fault for this,
- Although against her will, as it appears
- In the true course of all the question.
- Ant. Well, I am glad that all things sort so well.
- Bene. And so am I, being else by faith enforc'd
- To call young Claudio to a reckoning for it.
- Leon. Well, daughter, and you gentlewomen all,
- Withdraw into a chamber by yourselves,
- And when I send for you, come hither mask'd.
- Exeunt Ladies.
- The Prince and Claudio promis'd by this hour
- To visit me. You know your office, brother:
- You must be father to your brother's daughter,
- And give her to young Claudio.
- Ant. Which I will do with confirm'd countenance.
- Bene. Friar, I must entreat your pains, I think.
- Friar. To do what, signior?
- Bene. To bind me, or undo me--one of them.
- Signior Leonato, truth it is, good signior,
- Your niece regards me with an eye of favour.
- Leon. That eye my daughter lent her. 'Tis most true.
- Bene. And I do with an eye of love requite her.
- Leon. The sight whereof I think you had from me,
- From Claudio, and the Prince; but what's your will?
- Bene. Your answer, sir, is enigmatical;
- But, for my will, my will is, your good will
- May stand with ours, this day to be conjoin'd
- In the state of honourable marriage;
- In which, good friar, I shall desire your help.
- Leon. My heart is with your liking.
- Friar. And my help.
-
- Enter Don Pedro and Claudio and two or three other.
-
- Here comes the Prince and Claudio.
- Pedro. Good morrow to this fair assembly.
- Leon. Good morrow, Prince; good morrow, Claudio.
- We here attend you. Are you yet determin'd
- To-day to marry with my brother's daughter?
- Claud. I'll hold my mind, were she an Ethiope.
- Leon. Call her forth, brother. Here's the friar ready.
- [Exit Antonio.]
- Pedro. Good morrow, Benedick. Why, what's the matter
- That you have such a February face,
- So full of frost, of storm, and cloudiness?
- Claud. I think he thinks upon the savage bull.
- Tush, fear not, man! We'll tip thy horns with gold,
- And all Europa shall rejoice at thee,
- As once Europa did at lusty Jove
- When he would play the noble beast in love.
- Bene. Bull Jove, sir, had an amiable low,
- And some such strange bull leap'd your father's cow
- And got a calf in that same noble feat
- Much like to you, for you have just his bleat.
-
- Enter [Leonato's] brother [Antonio], Hero, Beatrice,
- Margaret, Ursula, [the ladies wearing masks].
-
- Claud. For this I owe you. Here comes other reckonings.
- Which is the lady I must seize upon?
- Ant. This same is she, and I do give you her.
- Claud. Why then, she's mine. Sweet, let me see your face.
- Leon. No, that you shall not till you take her hand
- Before this friar and swear to marry her.
- Claud. Give me your hand before this holy friar.
- I am your husband if you like of me.
- Hero. And when I liv'd I was your other wife; [Unmasks.]
- And when you lov'd you were my other husband.
- Claud. Another Hero!
- Hero. Nothing certainer.
- One Hero died defil'd; but I do live,
- And surely as I live, I am a maid.
- Pedro. The former Hero! Hero that is dead!
- Leon. She died, my lord, but whiles her slander liv'd.
- Friar. All this amazement can I qualify,
- When, after that the holy rites are ended,
- I'll tell you largely of fair Hero's death.
- Meantime let wonder seem familiar,
- And to the chapel let us presently.
- Bene. Soft and fair, friar. Which is Beatrice?
- Beat. [unmasks] I answer to that name. What is your will?
- Bene. Do not you love me?
- Beat. Why, no; no more than reason.
- Bene. Why, then your uncle, and the Prince, and Claudio
- Have been deceived; for they swore you did.
- Beat. Do not you love me?
- Bene. Troth, no; no more than reason.
- Beat. Why, then my cousin, Margaret, and Ursula
- Are much deceiv'd; for they did swear you did.
- Bene. They swore that you were almost sick for me.
- Beat. They swore that you were well-nigh dead for me.
- Bene. 'Tis no such matter. Then you do not love me?
- Beat. No, truly, but in friendly recompense.
- Leon. Come, cousin, I am sure you love the gentleman.
- Claud. And I'll be sworn upon't that he loves her;
- For here's a paper written in his hand,
- A halting sonnet of his own pure brain,
- Fashion'd to Beatrice.
- Hero. And here's another,
- Writ in my cousin's hand, stol'n from her pocket,
- Containing her affection unto Benedick.
- Bene. A miracle! Here's our own hands against our hearts.
- Come, I will have thee; but, by this light, I take thee for pity.
- Beat. I would not deny you; but, by this good day, I yield upon
- great persuasion, and partly to save your life, for I was told
- you were in a consumption.
- Bene. Peace! I will stop your mouth. [Kisses her.]
- Beat. I'll tell thee what, Prince: a college of wit-crackers cannot
- flout me out of my humour. Dost thou think I care for a satire or
- an epigram? No. If a man will be beaten with brains, 'a shall
- wear nothing handsome about him. In brief, since I do purpose to
- marry, I will think nothing to any purpose that the world can say
- against it; and therefore never flout at me for what I have said
- against it; for man is a giddy thing, and this is my conclusion.
- For thy part, Claudio, I did think to have beaten thee; but in
- that thou art like to be my kinsman, live unbruis'd, and love my
- cousin.
- Claud. I had well hop'd thou wouldst have denied Beatrice, that I
- might have cudgell'd thee out of thy single life, to make thee a
- double-dealer, which out of question thou wilt be if my cousin do
- not look exceeding narrowly to thee.
- Bene. Come, come, we are friends. Let's have a dance ere we are
- married, that we may lighten our own hearts and our wives' heels.
- Leon. We'll have dancing afterward.
- Bene. First, of my word! Therefore play, music. Prince, thou art
- sad. Get thee a wife, get thee a wife! There is no staff more
- reverent than one tipp'd with horn.
-
- Enter Messenger.
-
- Mess. My lord, your brother John is ta'en in flight,
- And brought with armed men back to Messina.
- Bene. Think not on him till to-morrow. I'll devise thee brave
- punishments for him. Strike up, pipers!
- Dance. [Exeunt.]
-
-
-THE END
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-
-
-1605
-
-
-THE TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, MOOR OF VENICE
-
-by William Shakespeare
-
-
-
-Dramatis Personae
-
- OTHELLO, the Moor, general of the Venetian forces
- DESDEMONA, his wife
- IAGO, ensign to Othello
- EMILIA, his wife, lady-in-waiting to Desdemona
- CASSIO, lieutenant to Othello
- THE DUKE OF VENICE
- BRABANTIO, Venetian Senator, father of Desdemona
- GRATIANO, nobleman of Venice, brother of Brabantio
- LODOVICO, nobleman of Venice, kinsman of Brabantio
- RODERIGO, rejected suitor of Desdemona
- BIANCA, mistress of Cassio
- MONTANO, a Cypriot official
- A Clown in service to Othello
- Senators, Sailors, Messengers, Officers, Gentlemen, Musicians, and
- Attendants
-
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-SCENE: Venice and Cyprus
-
-ACT I. SCENE I.
-Venice. A street.
-
-Enter Roderigo and Iago.
-
- RODERIGO. Tush, never tell me! I take it much unkindly
- That thou, Iago, who hast had my purse
- As if the strings were thine, shouldst know of this.
- IAGO. 'Sblood, but you will not hear me.
- If ever I did dream of such a matter,
- Abhor me.
- RODERIGO. Thou told'st me thou didst hold him in thy hate.
- IAGO. Despise me, if I do not. Three great ones of the city,
- In personal suit to make me his lieutenant,
- Off-capp'd to him; and, by the faith of man,
- I know my price, I am worth no worse a place.
- But he, as loving his own pride and purposes,
- Evades them, with a bumbast circumstance
- Horribly stuff'd with epithets of war,
- And, in conclusion,
- Nonsuits my mediators; for, "Certes," says he,
- "I have already chose my officer."
- And what was he?
- Forsooth, a great arithmetician,
- One Michael Cassio, a Florentine
- (A fellow almost damn'd in a fair wife)
- That never set a squadron in the field,
- Nor the division of a battle knows
- More than a spinster; unless the bookish theoric,
- Wherein the toged consuls can propose
- As masterly as he. Mere prattle without practice
- Is all his soldiership. But he, sir, had the election;
- And I, of whom his eyes had seen the proof
- At Rhodes, at Cyprus, and on other grounds
- Christian and heathen, must be belee'd and calm'd
- By debitor and creditor. This counter-caster,
- He, in good time, must his lieutenant be,
- And I- God bless the mark!- his Moorship's ancient.
- RODERIGO. By heaven, I rather would have been his hangman.
- IAGO. Why, there's no remedy. 'Tis the curse of service,
- Preferment goes by letter and affection,
- And not by old gradation, where each second
- Stood heir to the first. Now, sir, be judge yourself
- Whether I in any just term am affined
- To love the Moor.
- RODERIGO. I would not follow him then.
- IAGO. O, sir, content you.
- I follow him to serve my turn upon him:
- We cannot all be masters, nor all masters
- Cannot be truly follow'd. You shall mark
- Many a duteous and knee-crooking knave,
- That doting on his own obsequious bondage
- Wears out his time, much like his master's ass,
- For nought but provender, and when he's old, cashier'd.
- Whip me such honest knaves. Others there are
- Who, trimm'd in forms and visages of duty,
- Keep yet their hearts attending on themselves,
- And throwing but shows of service on their lords
- Do well thrive by them; and when they have lined their coats
- Do themselves homage. These fellows have some soul,
- And such a one do I profess myself.
- For, sir,
- It is as sure as you are Roderigo,
- Were I the Moor, I would not be Iago.
- In following him, I follow but myself;
- Heaven is my judge, not I for love and duty,
- But seeming so, for my peculiar end.
- For when my outward action doth demonstrate
- The native act and figure of my heart
- In complement extern, 'tis not long after
- But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve
- For daws to peck at: I am not what I am.
- RODERIGO. What a full fortune does the thick-lips owe,
- If he can carry't thus!
- IAGO. Call up her father,
- Rouse him, make after him, poison his delight,
- Proclaim him in the streets, incense her kinsmen,
- And, though he in a fertile climate dwell,
- Plague him with flies. Though that his joy be joy,
- Yet throw such changes of vexation on't
- As it may lose some color.
- RODERIGO. Here is her father's house; I'll call aloud.
- IAGO. Do, with like timorous accent and dire yell
- As when, by night and negligence, the fire
- Is spied in populous cities.
- RODERIGO. What, ho, Brabantio! Signior Brabantio, ho!
- IAGO. Awake! What, ho, Brabantio! Thieves! Thieves! Thieves!
- Look to your house, your daughter, and your bags!
- Thieves! Thieves!
-
- Brabantio appears above, at a window.
-
- BRABANTIO. What is the reason of this terrible summons?
- What is the matter there?
- RODERIGO. Signior, is all your family within?
- IAGO. Are your doors lock'd?
- BRABANTIO. Why? Wherefore ask you this?
- IAGO. 'Zounds, sir, you're robb'd! For shame, put on your gown;
- Your heart is burst, you have lost half your soul;
- Even now, now, very now, an old black ram
- Is tupping your white ewe. Arise, arise!
- Awake the snorting citizens with the bell,
- Or else the devil will make a grandsire of you.
- Arise, I say!
- BRABANTIO. What, have you lost your wits?
- RODERIGO. Most reverend signior, do you know my voice?
- BRABANTIO. Not I. What are you?
- RODERIGO. My name is Roderigo.
- BRABANTIO. The worser welcome.
- I have charged thee not to haunt about my doors.
- In honest plainness thou hast heard me say
- My daughter is not for thee; and now, in madness,
- Being full of supper and distempering draughts,
- Upon malicious bravery, dost thou come
- To start my quiet.
- RODERIGO. Sir, sir, sir-
- BRABANTIO. But thou must needs be sure
- My spirit and my place have in them power
- To make this bitter to thee.
- RODERIGO. Patience, good sir.
- BRABANTIO. What tell'st thou me of robbing? This is Venice;
- My house is not a grange.
- RODERIGO. Most grave Brabantio,
- In simple and pure soul I come to you.
- IAGO. 'Zounds, sir, you are one of those that will not serve God,
- if the devil bid you. Because we come to do you service and you
- think we are ruffians, you'll have your daughter covered with a
- Barbary horse; you'll have your nephews neigh to you; you'll have
- coursers for cousins, and gennets for germans.
- BRABANTIO. What profane wretch art thou?
- IAGO. I am one, sir, that comes to tell you your daughter and the
- Moor are now making the beast with two backs.
- BRABANTIO. Thou are a villain.
- IAGO. You are- a senator.
- BRABANTIO. This thou shalt answer; I know thee, Roderigo.
- RODERIGO. Sir, I will answer anything. But, I beseech you,
- If't be your pleasure and most wise consent,
- As partly I find it is, that your fair daughter,
- At this odd-even and dull watch o' the night,
- Transported with no worse nor better guard
- But with a knave of common hire, a gondolier,
- To the gross clasps of a lascivious Moor-
- If this be known to you, and your allowance,
- We then have done you bold and saucy wrongs;
- But if you know not this, my manners tell me
- We have your wrong rebuke. Do not believe
- That, from the sense of all civility,
- I thus would play and trifle with your reverence.
- Your daughter, if you have not given her leave,
- I say again, hath made a gross revolt,
- Tying her duty, beauty, wit, and fortunes
- In an extravagant and wheeling stranger
- Of here and everywhere. Straight satisfy yourself:
- If she be in her chamber or your house,
- Let loose on me the justice of the state
- For thus deluding you.
- BRABANTIO. Strike on the tinder, ho!
- Give me a taper! Call up all my people!
- This accident is not unlike my dream;
- Belief of it oppresses me already.
- Light, I say, light! Exit above.
- IAGO. Farewell, for I must leave you.
- It seems not meet, nor wholesome to my place,
- To be produced- as, if I stay, I shall-
- Against the Moor; for I do know, the state,
- However this may gall him with some check,
- Cannot with safety cast him, for he's embark'd
- With such loud reason to the Cyprus wars,
- Which even now stands in act, that, for their souls,
- Another of his fathom they have none
- To lead their business; in which regard,
- Though I do hate him as I do hell pains,
- Yet for necessity of present life,
- I must show out a flag and sign of love,
- Which is indeed but sign. That you shall surely find him,
- Lead to the Sagittary the raised search,
- And there will I be with him. So farewell. Exit.
-
- Enter, below, Brabantio, in his nightgown, and
- Servants with torches.
-
- BRABANTIO. It is too true an evil: gone she is,
- And what's to come of my despised time
- Is nought but bitterness. Now, Roderigo,
- Where didst thou see her? O unhappy girl!
- With the Moor, say'st thou? Who would be a father!
- How didst thou know 'twas she? O, she deceives me
- Past thought! What said she to you? Get more tapers.
- Raise all my kindred. Are they married, think you?
- RODERIGO. Truly, I think they are.
- BRABANTIO. O heaven! How got she out? O treason of the blood!
- Fathers, from hence trust not your daughters' minds
- By what you see them act. Is there not charms
- By which the property of youth and maidhood
- May be abused? Have you not read, Roderigo,
- Of some such thing?
- RODERIGO. Yes, sir, I have indeed.
- BRABANTIO. Call up my brother. O, would you had had her!
- Some one way, some another. Do you know
- Where we may apprehend her and the Moor?
- RODERIGO. I think I can discover him, if you please
- To get good guard and go along with me.
- BRABANTIO. Pray you, lead on. At every house I'll call;
- I may command at most. Get weapons, ho!
- And raise some special officers of night.
- On, good Roderigo, I'll deserve your pains. Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-Another street.
-
-Enter Othello, Iago, and Attendants with torches.
-
- IAGO. Though in the trade of war I have slain men,
- Yet do I hold it very stuff o' the conscience
- To do no contrived murther. I lack iniquity
- Sometimes to do me service. Nine or ten times
- I had thought to have yerk'd him here under the ribs.
- OTHELLO. 'Tis better as it is.
- IAGO. Nay, but he prated
- And spoke such scurvy and provoking terms
- Against your honor
- That, with the little godliness I have,
- I did full hard forbear him. But I pray you, sir,
- Are you fast married? Be assured of this,
- That the magnifico is much beloved,
- And hath in his effect a voice potential
- As double as the Duke's. He will divorce you,
- Or put upon you what restraint and grievance
- The law, with all his might to enforce it on,
- Will give him cable.
- OTHELLO. Let him do his spite.
- My services, which I have done the signiory,
- Shall out-tongue his complaints. 'Tis yet to know-
- Which, when I know that boasting is an honor,
- I shall promulgate- I fetch my life and being
- From men of royal siege, and my demerits
- May speak unbonneted to as proud a fortune
- As this that I have reach'd. For know, Iago,
- But that I love the gentle Desdemona,
- I would not my unhoused free condition
- Put into circumscription and confine
- For the sea's worth. But, look! What lights come yond?
- IAGO. Those are the raised father and his friends.
- You were best go in.
- OTHELLO. Not I; I must be found.
- My parts, my title, and my perfect soul
- Shall manifest me rightly. Is it they?
- IAGO. By Janus, I think no.
-
- Enter Cassio and certain Officers with torches.
-
- OTHELLO. The servants of the Duke? And my lieutenant?
- The goodness of the night upon you, friends!
- What is the news?
- CASSIO. The Duke does greet you, general,
- And he requires your haste-post-haste appearance,
- Even on the instant.
- OTHELLO. What is the matter, think you?
- CASSIO. Something from Cyprus, as I may divine;
- It is a business of some heat. The galleys
- Have sent a dozen sequent messengers
- This very night at one another's heels;
- And many of the consuls, raised and met,
- Are at the Duke's already. You have been hotly call'd for,
- When, being not at your lodging to be found,
- The Senate hath sent about three several quests
- To search you out.
- OTHELLO. 'Tis well I am found by you.
- I will but spend a word here in the house
- And go with you. Exit.
- CASSIO. Ancient, what makes he here?
- IAGO. Faith, he tonight hath boarded a land carack;
- If it prove lawful prize, he's made forever.
- CASSIO. I do not understand.
- IAGO. He's married.
- CASSIO. To who?
-
- Re-enter Othello.
-
- IAGO. Marry, to- Come, captain, will you go?
- OTHELLO. Have with you.
- CASSIO. Here comes another troop to seek for you.
- IAGO. It is Brabantio. General, be advised,
- He comes to bad intent.
-
- Enter Brabantio, Roderigo, and Officers with torches
- and weapons.
-
- OTHELLO. Holla! Stand there!
- RODERIGO. Signior, it is the Moor.
- BRABANTIO. Down with him, thief!
- They draw on both sides.
- IAGO. You, Roderigo! Come, sir, I am for you.
- OTHELLO. Keep up your bright swords, for the dew will rust them.
- Good signior, you shall more command with years
- Than with your weapons.
- BRABANTIO. O thou foul thief, where hast thou stow'd my daughter?
- Damn'd as thou art, thou hast enchanted her,
- For I'll refer me to all things of sense,
- If she in chains of magic were not bound,
- Whether a maid so tender, fair, and happy,
- So opposite to marriage that she shunn'd
- The wealthy, curled darlings of our nation,
- Would ever have, to incur a general mock,
- Run from her guardage to the sooty bosom
- Of such a thing as thou- to fear, not to delight.
- Judge me the world, if 'tis not gross in sense
- That thou hast practiced on her with foul charms,
- Abused her delicate youth with drugs or minerals
- That weaken motion. I'll have't disputed on;
- 'Tis probable, and palpable to thinking.
- I therefore apprehend and do attach thee
- For an abuser of the world, a practicer
- Of arts inhibited and out of warrant.
- Lay hold upon him. If he do resist,
- Subdue him at his peril.
- OTHELLO. Hold your hands,
- Both you of my inclining and the rest.
- Were it my cue to fight, I should have known it
- Without a prompter. Where will you that I go
- To answer this your charge?
- BRABANTIO. To prison, till fit time
- Of law and course of direct session
- Call thee to answer.
- OTHELLO. What if I do obey?
- How may the Duke be therewith satisfied,
- Whose messengers are here about my side,
- Upon some present business of the state
- To bring me to him?
- FIRST OFFICER. 'Tis true, most worthy signior;
- The Duke's in council, and your noble self,
- I am sure, is sent for.
- BRABANTIO. How? The Duke in council?
- In this time of the night? Bring him away;
- Mine's not an idle cause. The Duke himself,
- Or any of my brothers of the state,
- Cannot but feel this wrong as 'twere their own;
- For if such actions may have passage free,
- Bond slaves and pagans shall our statesmen be. Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-A council chamber. The Duke and Senators sitting at a table;
-Officers attending.
-
- DUKE. There is no composition in these news
- That gives them credit.
- FIRST SENATOR. Indeed they are disproportion'd;
- My letters say a hundred and seven galleys.
- DUKE. And mine, a hundred and forty.
- SECOND SENATOR. And mine, two hundred.
- But though they jump not on a just account-
- As in these cases, where the aim reports,
- 'Tis oft with difference- yet do they all confirm
- A Turkish fleet, and bearing up to Cyprus.
- DUKE. Nay, it is possible enough to judgement.
- I do not so secure me in the error,
- But the main article I do approve
- In fearful sense.
- SAILOR. [Within.] What, ho! What, ho! What, ho!
- FIRST OFFICER. A messenger from the galleys.
-
- Enter Sailor.
-
- DUKE. Now, what's the business?
- SAILOR. The Turkish preparation makes for Rhodes,
- So was I bid report here to the state
- By Signior Angelo.
- DUKE. How say you by this change?
- FIRST SENATOR. This cannot be,
- By no assay of reason; 'tis a pageant
- To keep us in false gaze. When we consider
- The importancy of Cyprus to the Turk,
- And let ourselves again but understand
- That as it more concerns the Turk than Rhodes,
- So may he with more facile question bear it,
- For that it stands not in such warlike brace,
- But altogether lacks the abilities
- That Rhodes is dress'd in. If we make thought of this,
- We must not think the Turk is so unskillful
- To leave that latest which concerns him first,
- Neglecting an attempt of ease and gain,
- To wake and wage a danger profitless.
- DUKE. Nay, in all confidence, he's not for Rhodes.
- FIRST OFFICER. Here is more news.
-
- Enter a Messenger.
-
- MESSENGER. The Ottomites, reverend and gracious,
- Steering with due course toward the isle of Rhodes,
- Have there injointed them with an after fleet.
- FIRST SENATOR. Ay, so I thought. How many, as you guess?
- MESSENGER. Of thirty sail; and now they do re-stem
- Their backward course, bearing with frank appearance
- Their purposes toward Cyprus. Signior Montano,
- Your trusty and most valiant servitor,
- With his free duty recommends you thus,
- And prays you to believe him.
- DUKE. 'Tis certain then for Cyprus.
- Marcus Luccicos, is not he in town?
- FIRST SENATOR. He's now in Florence.
- DUKE. Write from us to him, post-post-haste dispatch.
- FIRST SENATOR. Here comes Brabantio and the valiant Moor.
-
- Enter Brabantio, Othello, Iago, Roderigo, and Officers.
-
- DUKE. Valiant Othello, we must straight employ you
- Against the general enemy Ottoman.
- [To Brabantio.] I did not see you; welcome, gentle signior;
- We lack'd your counsel and your help tonight.
- BRABANTIO. So did I yours. Good your Grace, pardon me:
- Neither my place nor aught I heard of business
- Hath raised me from my bed, nor doth the general care
- Take hold on me; for my particular grief
- Is of so flood-gate and o'erbearing nature
- That it engluts and swallows other sorrows,
- And it is still itself.
- DUKE. Why, what's the matter?
- BRABANTIO. My daughter! O, my daughter!
- ALL. Dead?
- BRABANTIO. Ay, to me.
- She is abused, stol'n from me and corrupted
- By spells and medicines bought of mountebanks;
- For nature so preposterously to err,
- Being not deficient, blind, or lame of sense,
- Sans witchcraft could not.
- DUKE. Whoe'er he be that in this foul proceeding
- Hath thus beguiled your daughter of herself
- And you of her, the bloody book of law
- You shall yourself read in the bitter letter
- After your own sense, yea, though our proper son
- Stood in your action.
- BRABANTIO. Humbly I thank your Grace.
- Here is the man, this Moor, whom now, it seems,
- Your special mandate for the state affairs
- Hath hither brought.
- ALL. We are very sorry for't.
- DUKE. [To Othello.] What in your own part can you say to this?
- BRABANTIO. Nothing, but this is so.
- OTHELLO. Most potent, grave, and reverend signiors,
- My very noble and approved good masters,
- That I have ta'en away this old man's daughter,
- It is most true; true, I have married her;
- The very head and front of my offending
- Hath this extent, no more. Rude am I in my speech,
- And little blest with the soft phrase of peace;
- For since these arms of mine had seven years' pith,
- Till now some nine moons wasted, they have used
- Their dearest action in the tented field,
- And little of this great world can I speak,
- More than pertains to feats of broil and battle;
- And therefore little shall I grace my cause
- In speaking for myself. Yet, by your gracious patience,
- I will a round unvarnish'd tale deliver
- Of my whole course of love: what drugs, what charms,
- What conjuration, and what mighty magic-
- For such proceeding I am charged withal-
- I won his daughter.
- BRABANTIO. A maiden never bold,
- Of spirit so still and quiet that her motion
- Blush'd at herself; and she- in spite of nature,
- Of years, of country, credit, everything-
- To fall in love with what she fear'd to look on!
- It is judgement maim'd and most imperfect,
- That will confess perfection so could err
- Against all rules of nature, and must be driven
- To find out practices of cunning hell
- Why this should be. I therefore vouch again
- That with some mixtures powerful o'er the blood,
- Or with some dram conjured to this effect,
- He wrought upon her.
- DUKE. To vouch this is no proof,
- Without more certain and more overt test
- Than these thin habits and poor likelihoods
- Of modern seeming do prefer against him.
- FIRST SENATOR. But, Othello, speak.
- Did you by indirect and forced courses
- Subdue and poison this young maid's affections?
- Or came it by request, and such fair question
- As soul to soul affordeth?
- OTHELLO. I do beseech you,
- Send for the lady to the Sagittary,
- And let her speak of me before her father.
- If you do find me foul in her report,
- The trust, the office I do hold of you,
- Not only take away, but let your sentence
- Even fall upon my life.
- DUKE. Fetch Desdemona hither.
- OTHELLO. Ancient, conduct them; you best know the place.
- Exeunt Iago and Attendants.
- And till she come, as truly as to heaven
- I do confess the vices of my blood,
- So justly to your grave ears I'll present
- How I did thrive in this fair lady's love
- And she in mine.
- DUKE. Say it, Othello.
- OTHELLO. Her father loved me, oft invited me,
- Still question'd me the story of my life
- From year to year, the battles, sieges, fortunes,
- That I have pass'd.
- I ran it through, even from my boyish days
- To the very moment that he bade me tell it:
- Wherein I spake of most disastrous chances,
- Of moving accidents by flood and field,
- Of hair-breadth 'scapes i' the imminent deadly breach,
- Of being taken by the insolent foe
- And sold to slavery, of my redemption thence
- And portance in my travels' history;
- Wherein of antres vast and deserts idle,
- Rough quarries, rocks, and hills whose heads touch heaven,
- It was my hint to speak- such was the process-
- And of the Cannibals that each other eat,
- The Anthropophagi, and men whose heads
- Do grow beneath their shoulders. This to hear
- Would Desdemona seriously incline;
- But still the house affairs would draw her thence,
- Which ever as she could with haste dispatch,
- She'ld come again, and with a greedy ear
- Devour up my discourse; which I observing,
- Took once a pliant hour, and found good means
- To draw from her a prayer of earnest heart
- That I would all my pilgrimage dilate,
- Whereof by parcels she had something heard,
- But not intentively. I did consent,
- And often did beguile her of her tears
- When I did speak of some distressful stroke
- That my youth suffer'd. My story being done,
- She gave me for my pains a world of sighs;
- She swore, in faith, 'twas strange, 'twas passing strange;
- 'Twas pitiful, 'twas wondrous pitiful.
- She wish'd she had not heard it, yet she wish'd
- That heaven had made her such a man; she thank'd me,
- And bade me, if I had a friend that loved her,
- I should but teach him how to tell my story,
- And that would woo her. Upon this hint I spake:
- She loved me for the dangers I had pass'd,
- And I loved her that she did pity them.
- This only is the witchcraft I have used.
- Here comes the lady; let her witness it.
-
- Enter Desdemona, Iago, and Attendants.
-
- DUKE. I think this tale would win my daughter too.
- Good Brabantio,
- Take up this mangled matter at the best:
- Men do their broken weapons rather use
- Than their bare hands.
- BRABANTIO. I pray you, hear her speak.
- If she confess that she was half the wooer,
- Destruction on my head, if my bad blame
- Light on the man! Come hither, gentle mistress.
- Do you perceive in all this noble company
- Where most you owe obedience?
- DESDEMONA. My noble father,
- I do perceive here a divided duty.
- To you I am bound for life and education;
- My life and education both do learn me
- How to respect you; you are the lord of duty,
- I am hitherto your daughter. But here's my husband,
- And so much duty as my mother show'd
- To you, preferring you before her father,
- So much I challenge that I may profess
- Due to the Moor, my lord.
- BRABANTIO. God be with you! I have done.
- Please it your Grace, on to the state affairs;
- I had rather to adopt a child than get it.
- Come hither, Moor.
- I here do give thee that with all my heart
- Which, but thou hast already, with all my heart
- I would keep from thee. For your sake, jewel,
- I am glad at soul I have no other child;
- For thy escape would teach me tyranny,
- To hang clogs on them. I have done, my lord.
- DUKE. Let me speak like yourself, and lay a sentence
- Which, as a grise or step, may help these lovers
- Into your favor.
- When remedies are past, the griefs are ended
- By seeing the worst, which late on hopes depended.
- To mourn a mischief that is past and gone
- Is the next way to draw new mischief on.
- What cannot be preserved when Fortune takes,
- Patience her injury a mockery makes.
- The robb'd that smiles steals something from the thief;
- He robs himself that spends a bootless grief.
- BRABANTIO. So let the Turk of Cyprus us beguile;
- We lose it not so long as we can smile.
- He bears the sentence well, that nothing bears
- But the free comfort which from thence he hears;
- But he bears both the sentence and the sorrow
- That, to pay grief, must of poor patience borrow.
- These sentences, to sugar or to gall,
- Being strong on both sides, are equivocal.
- But words are words; I never yet did hear
- That the bruised heart was pierced through the ear.
- I humbly beseech you, proceed to the affairs of state.
- DUKE. The Turk with a most mighty preparation makes for Cyprus.
- Othello, the fortitude of the place is best known to you; and
- though we have there a substitute of most allowed sufficiency,
- yet opinion, a sovereign mistress of effects, throws a more safer
- voice on you. You must therefore be content to slubber the gloss
- of your new fortunes with this more stubborn and boisterous
- expedition.
- OTHELLO. The tyrant custom, most grave senators,
- Hath made the flinty and steel couch of war
- My thrice-driven bed of down. I do agnize
- A natural and prompt alacrity
- I find in hardness and do undertake
- These present wars against the Ottomites.
- Most humbly therefore bending to your state,
- I crave fit disposition for my wife,
- Due reference of place and exhibition,
- With such accommodation and besort
- As levels with her breeding.
- DUKE. If you please,
- Be't at her father's.
- BRABANTIO. I'll not have it so.
- OTHELLO. Nor I.
- DESDEMONA. Nor I. I would not there reside
- To put my father in impatient thoughts
- By being in his eye. Most gracious Duke,
- To my unfolding lend your prosperous ear,
- And let me find a charter in your voice
- To assist my simpleness.
- DUKE. What would you, Desdemona?
- DESDEMONA. That I did love the Moor to live with him,
- My downright violence and storm of fortunes
- May trumpet to the world. My heart's subdued
- Even to the very quality of my lord.
- I saw Othello's visage in his mind,
- And to his honors and his valiant parts
- Did I my soul and fortunes consecrate.
- So that, dear lords, if I be left behind,
- A moth of peace, and he go to the war,
- The rites for which I love him are bereft me,
- And I a heavy interim shall support
- By his dear absence. Let me go with him.
- OTHELLO. Let her have your voices.
- Vouch with me, heaven, I therefore beg it not
- To please the palate of my appetite,
- Nor to comply with heat- the young affects
- In me defunct- and proper satisfaction;
- But to be free and bounteous to her mind.
- And heaven defend your good souls, that you think
- I will your serious and great business scant
- For she is with me. No, when light-wing'd toys
- Of feather'd Cupid seel with wanton dullness
- My speculative and officed instruments,
- That my disports corrupt and taint my business,
- Let housewives make a skillet of my helm,
- And all indign and base adversities
- Make head against my estimation!
- DUKE. Be it as you shall privately determine,
- Either for her stay or going. The affair cries haste,
- And speed must answer't: you must hence tonight.
- DESDEMONA. Tonight, my lord?
- DUKE. This night.
- OTHELLO. With all my heart.
- DUKE. At nine i' the morning here we'll meet again.
- Othello, leave some officer behind,
- And he shall our commission bring to you,
- With such things else of quality and respect
- As doth import you.
- OTHELLO. So please your Grace, my ancient;
- A man he is of honesty and trust.
- To his conveyance I assign my wife,
- With what else needful your good Grace shall think
- To be sent after me.
- DUKE. Let it be so.
- Good night to everyone. [To Brabantio.] And, noble signior,
- If virtue no delighted beauty lack,
- Your son-in-law is far more fair than black.
- FIRST SENATOR. Adieu, brave Moor, use Desdemona well.
- BRABANTIO. Look to her, Moor, if thou hast eyes to see;
- She has deceived her father, and may thee.
- Exeunt Duke, Senators, and Officers.
- OTHELLO. My life upon her faith! Honest Iago,
- My Desdemona must I leave to thee.
- I prithee, let thy wife attend on her,
- And bring them after in the best advantage.
- Come, Desdemona, I have but an hour
- Of love, of worldly matters and direction,
- To spend with thee. We must obey the time.
- Exeunt Othello and Desdemona.
- RODERIGO. Iago!
- IAGO. What say'st thou, noble heart?
- RODERIGO. What will I do, thinkest thou?
- IAGO. Why, go to bed and sleep.
- RODERIGO. I will incontinently drown myself.
- IAGO. If thou dost, I shall never love thee after.
- Why, thou silly gentleman!
- RODERIGO. It is silliness to live when to live is torment, and then
- have we a prescription to die when death is our physician.
- IAGO. O villainous! I have looked upon the world for four times
- seven years, and since I could distinguish betwixt a benefit and
- an injury, I never found man that knew how to love himself. Ere I
- would say I would drown myself for the love of a guinea hen, I
- would change my humanity with a baboon.
- RODERIGO. What should I do? I confess it is my shame to be so fond,
- but it is not in my virtue to amend it.
- IAGO. Virtue? a fig! 'Tis in ourselves that we are thus or thus.
- Our bodies are gardens, to the which our wills are gardeners; so
- that if we will plant nettles or sow lettuce, set hyssop and weed
- up thyme, supply it with one gender of herbs or distract it with
- many, either to have it sterile with idleness or manured with
- industry, why, the power and corrigible authority of this lies in
- our wills. If the balance of our lives had not one scale of
- reason to poise another of sensuality, the blood and baseness of
- our natures would conduct us to most preposterous conclusions.
- But we have reason to cool our raging motions, our carnal stings,
- our unbitted lusts; whereof I take this, that you call love, to
- be a sect or scion.
- RODERIGO. It cannot be.
- IAGO. It is merely a lust of the blood and a permission of the
- will. Come, be a man! Drown thyself? Drown cats and blind
- puppies. I have professed me thy friend, and I confess me knit to
- thy deserving with cables of perdurable toughness; I could never
- better stead thee than now. Put money in thy purse; follow thou
- the wars; defeat thy favor with an usurped beard. I say, put
- money in thy purse. It cannot be that Desdemona should long
- continue her love to the Moor- put money in thy purse- nor he his
- to her. It was a violent commencement, and thou shalt see an
- answerable sequestration- put but money in thy purse. These Moors
- are changeable in their wills- fill thy purse with money. The
- food that to him now is as luscious as locusts, shall be to him
- shortly as acerb as the coloquintida. She must change for youth;
- when she is sated with his body, she will find the error of her
- choice. She must have change, she must; therefore put money in
- thy purse. If thou wilt needs damn thyself, do it a more delicate
- way than drowning. Make all the money thou canst. If sanctimony
- and a frail vow betwixt an erring barbarian and a supersubtle
- Venetian be not too hard for my wits and all the tribe of hell,
- thou shalt enjoy her- therefore make money. A pox of drowning
- thyself! It is clean out of the way. Seek thou rather to be
- hanged in compassing thy joy than to be drowned and go without
- her.
- RODERIGO. Wilt thou be fast to my hopes, if I depend on the issue?
- IAGO. Thou art sure of me- go, make money. I have told thee often,
- and I retell thee again and again, I hate the Moor. My cause is
- hearted; thine hath no less reason. Let us be conjunctive in our
- revenge against him. If thou canst cuckold him, thou dost thyself
- a pleasure, me a sport. There are many events in the womb of time
- which will be delivered. Traverse, go, provide thy money. We will
- have more of this tomorrow. Adieu.
- RODERIGO. Where shall we meet i' the morning?
- IAGO. At my lodging.
- RODERIGO. I'll be with thee betimes.
- IAGO. Go to, farewell. Do you hear, Roderigo?
- RODERIGO. What say you?
- IAGO. No more of drowning, do you hear?
- RODERIGO. I am changed; I'll go sell all my land. Exit.
- IAGO. Thus do I ever make my fool my purse;
- For I mine own gain'd knowledge should profane
- If I would time expend with such a snipe
- But for my sport and profit. I hate the Moor,
- And it is thought abroad that 'twixt my sheets
- He has done my office. I know not if't be true,
- But I for mere suspicion in that kind
- Will do as if for surety. He holds me well,
- The better shall my purpose work on him.
- Cassio's a proper man. Let me see now-
- To get his place, and to plume up my will
- In double knavery- How, how?- Let's see-
- After some time, to abuse Othello's ear
- That he is too familiar with his wife.
- He hath a person and a smooth dispose
- To be suspected- framed to make women false.
- The Moor is of a free and open nature,
- That thinks men honest that but seem to be so,
- And will as tenderly be led by the nose
- As asses are.
- I have't. It is engender'd. Hell and night
- Must bring this monstrous birth to the world's light.
- Exit.
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT II. SCENE I.
-A seaport in Cyprus. An open place near the quay.
-
-Enter Montano and two Gentlemen.
-
- MONTANO. What from the cape can you discern at sea?
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. Nothing at all. It is a high-wrought flood;
- I cannot, 'twixt the heaven and the main,
- Descry a sail.
- MONTANO. Methinks the wind hath spoke aloud at land;
- A fuller blast ne'er shook our battlements.
- If it hath ruffian'd so upon the sea,
- What ribs of oak, when mountains melt on them,
- Can hold the mortise? What shall we hear of this?
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. A segregation of the Turkish fleet.
- For do but stand upon the foaming shore,
- The chidden billow seems to pelt the clouds;
- The wind-shaked surge, with high and monstrous mane,
- Seems to cast water on the burning bear,
- And quench the guards of the ever-fixed pole.
- I never did like molestation view
- On the enchafed flood.
- MONTANO. If that the Turkish fleet
- Be not enshelter'd and embay'd, they are drown'd;
- It is impossible to bear it out.
-
- Enter a third Gentleman.
-
- THIRD GENTLEMAN. News, lads! Our wars are done.
- The desperate tempest hath so bang'd the Turks,
- That their designment halts. A noble ship of Venice
- Hath seen a grievous wreck and sufferance
- On most part of their fleet.
- MONTANO. How? Is this true?
- THIRD GENTLEMAN. The ship is here put in,
- A Veronesa. Michael Cassio,
- Lieutenant to the warlike Moor, Othello,
- Is come on shore; the Moor himself at sea,
- And is in full commission here for Cyprus.
- MONTANO. I am glad on't; 'tis a worthy governor.
- THIRD GENTLEMAN. But this same Cassio, though he speak of comfort
- Touching the Turkish loss, yet he looks sadly
- And prays the Moor be safe; for they were parted
- With foul and violent tempest.
- MONTANO. Pray heavens he be,
- For I have served him, and the man commands
- Like a full soldier. Let's to the seaside, ho!
- As well to see the vessel that's come in
- As to throw out our eyes for brave Othello,
- Even till we make the main and the aerial blue
- An indistinct regard.
- THIRD GENTLEMAN. Come, let's do so,
- For every minute is expectancy
- Of more arrivance.
-
- Enter Cassio.
-
- CASSIO. Thanks, you the valiant of this warlike isle,
- That so approve the Moor! O, let the heavens
- Give him defense against the elements,
- For I have lost him on a dangerous sea.
- MONTANO. I she well shipp'd?
- CASSIO. His bark is stoutly timber'd, and his pilot
- Of very expert and approved allowance;
- Therefore my hopes, not surfeited to death,
- Stand in bold cure.
- A cry within, "A sail, a sail, a sail!"
-
- Enter a fourth Gentleman.
-
- What noise?
- FOURTH GENTLEMAN. The town is empty; on the brow o' the sea
- Stand ranks of people, and they cry, "A sail!"
- CASSIO. My hopes do shape him for the governor.
- Guns heard.
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. They do discharge their shot of courtesy-
- Our friends at least.
- CASSIO. I pray you, sir, go forth,
- And give us truth who 'tis that is arrived.
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. I shall. Exit.
- MONTANO. But, good lieutenant, is your general wived?
- CASSIO. Most fortunately: he hath achieved a maid
- That paragons description and wild fame,
- One that excels the quirks of blazoning pens,
- And in the essential vesture of creation
- Does tire the ingener.
-
- Re-enter second Gentleman.
-
- How now! who has put in?
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. 'Tis one Iago, ancient to the general.
- CASSIO. He has had most favorable and happy speed:
- Tempests themselves, high seas, and howling winds,
- The gutter'd rocks, and congregated sands,
- Traitors ensteep'd to clog the guiltless keel,
- As having sense of beauty, do omit
- Their mortal natures, letting go safely by
- The divine Desdemona.
- MONTANO. What is she?
- CASSIO. She that I spake of, our great captain's captain,
- Left in the conduct of the bold Iago,
- Whose footing here anticipates our thoughts
- A se'nnight's speed. Great Jove, Othello guard,
- And swell his sail with thine own powerful breath,
- That he may bless this bay with his tall ship,
- Make love's quick pants in Desdemona's arms,
- Give renew'd fire to our extincted spirits,
- And bring all Cyprus comfort.
-
- Enter Desdemona, Emilia Iago, Roderigo, and Attendants.
-
- O, behold,
- The riches of the ship is come on shore!
- Ye men of Cyprus, let her have your knees.
- Hall to thee, lady! And the grace of heaven,
- Before, behind thee, and on every hand,
- Enwheel thee round!
- DESDEMONA. I thank you, valiant Cassio.
- What tidings can you tell me of my lord?
- CASSIO. He is not yet arrived, nor know I aught
- But that he's well and will be shortly here.
- DESDEMONA. O, but I fear- How lost you company?
- CASSIO. The great contention of the sea and skies
- Parted our fellowship- But, hark! a sail.
- A cry within, "A sail, a sail!" Guns heard.
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. They give their greeting to the citadel;
- This likewise is a friend.
- CASSIO. See for the news.
- Exit Gentleman.
- Good ancient, you are welcome. [To Emilia.] Welcome, mistress.
- Let it not gall your patience, good Iago,
- That I extend my manners; 'tis my breeding
- That gives me this bold show of courtesy. Kisses her.
- IAGO. Sir, would she give you so much of her lips
- As of her tongue she oft bestows on me,
- You'ld have enough.
- DESDEMONA. Alas, she has no speech.
- IAGO. In faith, too much;
- I find it still when I have list to sleep.
- Marry, before your ladyship I grant,
- She puts her tongue a little in her heart
- And chides with thinking.
- EMILIA. You have little cause to say so.
- IAGO. Come on, come on. You are pictures out of doors,
- Bells in your parlors, wildcats in your kitchens,
- Saints in your injuries, devils being offended,
- Players in your housewifery, and housewives in your beds.
- DESDEMONA. O, fie upon thee, slanderer!
- IAGO. Nay, it is true, or else I am a Turk:
- You rise to play, and go to bed to work.
- EMILIA. You shall not write my praise.
- IAGO. No, let me not.
- DESDEMONA. What wouldst thou write of me, if thou shouldst
- praise me?
- IAGO. O gentle lady, do not put me to't,
- For I am nothing if not critical.
- DESDEMONA. Come on, assay- There's one gone to the harbor?
- IAGO. Ay, madam.
- DESDEMONA. I am not merry, but I do beguile
- The thing I am by seeming otherwise.
- Come, how wouldst thou praise me?
- IAGO. I am about it, but indeed my invention
- Comes from my pate as birdlime does from frieze;
- It plucks out brains and all. But my Muse labors,
- And thus she is deliver'd.
- If she be fair and wise, fairness and wit,
- The one's for use, the other useth it.
- DESDEMONA. Well praised! How if she be black and witty?
- IAGO. If she be black, and thereto have a wit,
- She'll find a white that shall her blackness fit.
- DESDEMONA. Worse and worse.
- EMILIA. How if fair and foolish?
- IAGO. She never yet was foolish that was fair,
- For even her folly help'd her to an heir.
- DESDEMONA. These are old fond paradoxes to make fools laugh i' the
- alehouse. What miserable praise hast thou for her that's foul and
- foolish?
- IAGO. There's none so foul and foolish thereunto,
- But does foul pranks which fair and wise ones do.
- DESDEMONA. O heavy ignorance! Thou praisest the worst best. But what
- praise couldst thou bestow on a deserving woman indeed, one that
- in the authority of her merit did justly put on the vouch of very
- malice itself?
- IAGO. She that was ever fair and never proud,
- Had tongue at will and yet was never loud,
- Never lack'd gold and yet went never gay,
- Fled from her wish and yet said, "Now I may";
- She that, being anger'd, her revenge being nigh,
- Bade her wrong stay and her displeasure fly;
- She that in wisdom never was so frail
- To change the cod's head for the salmon's tail;
- She that could think and ne'er disclose her mind,
- See suitors following and not look behind;
- She was a wight, if ever such wight were-
- DESDEMONA. To do what?
- IAGO. To suckle fools and chronicle small beer.
- DESDEMONA. O most lame and impotent conclusion! Do not learn of him,
- Emilia, though he be thy husband. How say you, Cassio? Is he not
- a most profane and liberal counselor?
- CASSIO. He speaks home, madam. You may relish him more in the
- soldier than in the scholar.
- IAGO. [Aside.] He takes her by the palm; ay, well said, whisper.
- With as little a web as this will I ensnare as great a fly as
- Cassio. Ay, smile upon her, do; I will gyve thee in thine own
- courtship. You say true; 'tis so, indeed. If such tricks as these
- strip you out of your lieutenantry, it had been better you had
- not kissed your three fingers so oft, which now again you are
- most apt to play the sir in. Very good. Well kissed! an excellent
- courtesy! 'tis so, indeed. Yet again your fingers to your lips?
- Would they were clyster-pipes for your sake! [Trumpet within.]
- The Moor! I know his trumpet.
- CASSIO. 'Tis truly so.
- DESDEMONA. Let's meet him and receive him.
- CASSIO. Lo, where he comes!
-
- Enter Othello and Attendants.
-
- OTHELLO. O my fair warrior!
- DESDEMONA. My dear Othello!
- OTHELLO. It gives me wonder great as my content
- To see you here before me. O my soul's joy!
- If after every tempest come such calms,
- May the winds blow till they have waken'd death!
- And let the laboring bark climb hills of seas
- Olympus-high, and duck again as low
- As hell's from heaven! If it were now to die,
- 'Twere now to be most happy; for I fear
- My soul hath her content so absolute
- That not another comfort like to this
- Succeeds in unknown fate.
- DESDEMONA. The heavens forbid
- But that our loves and comforts should increase,
- Even as our days do grow!
- OTHELLO. Amen to that, sweet powers!
- I cannot speak enough of this content;
- It stops me here; it is too much of joy.
- And this, and this, the greatest discords be Kisses her.
- That e'er our hearts shall make!
- IAGO. [Aside.] O, you are well tuned now!
- But I'll set down the pegs that make this music,
- As honest as I am.
- OTHELLO. Come, let us to the castle.
- News, friends: our wars are done, the Turks are drown'd.
- How does my old acquaintance of this isle?
- Honey, you shall be well desired in Cyprus;
- I have found great love amongst them. O my sweet,
- I prattle out of fashion, and I dote
- In mine own comforts. I prithee, good Iago,
- Go to the bay and disembark my coffers.
- Bring thou the master to the citadel;
- He is a good one, and his worthiness
- Does challenge much respect. Come, Desdemona,
- Once more well met at Cyprus.
- Exeunt all but Iago and Roderigo.
- IAGO. Do thou meet me presently at the harbor. Come hither. If thou
- be'st valiant- as they say base men being in love have then a
- nobility in their natures more than is native to them- list me.
- The lieutenant tonight watches on the court of guard. First, I
- must tell thee this: Desdemona is directly in love with him.
- RODERIGO. With him? Why, 'tis not possible.
- IAGO. Lay thy finger thus, and let thy soul be instructed. Mark me
- with what violence she first loved the Moor, but for bragging and
- telling her fantastical lies. And will she love him still for
- prating? Let not thy discreet heart think it. Her eye must be
- fed; and what delight shall she have to look on the devil? When
- the blood is made dull with the act of sport, there should be,
- again to inflame it and to give satiety a fresh appetite,
- loveliness in favor, sympathy in years, manners, and beauties-
- all which the Moor is defective in. Now, for want of these
- required conveniences, her delicate tenderness will find itself
- abused, begin to heave the gorge, disrelish and abhor the Moor;
- very nature will instruct her in it and compel her to some second
- choice. Now sir, this granted- as it is a most pregnant and
- unforced position- who stands so eminently in the degree of this
- fortune as Cassio does? A knave very voluble; no further
- conscionable than in putting on the mere form of civil and humane
- seeming, for the better compass of his salt and most hidden loose
- affection? Why, none, why, none- a slipper and subtle knave, a
- finder out of occasions, that has an eye can stamp and
- counterfeit advantages, though true advantage never present
- itself- a devilish knave! Besides, the knave is handsome, young,
- and hath all those requisites in him that folly and green minds
- look after- a pestilent complete knave, and the woman hath found
- him already.
- RODERIGO. I cannot believe that in her; she's full of most blest
- condition.
- IAGO. Blest fig's-end! The wine she drinks is made of grapes. If
- she had been blest, she would never have loved the Moor. Blest
- pudding! Didst thou not see her paddle with the palm of his hand?
- Didst not mark that?
- RODERIGO. Yes, that I did; but that was but courtesy.
- IAGO. Lechery, by this hand; an index and obscure prologue to the
- history of lust and foul thoughts. They met so near with their
- lips that their breaths embraced together. Villainous thoughts,
- Roderigo! When these mutualities so marshal the way, hard at hand
- comes the master and main exercise, the incorporate conclusion.
- Pish! But, sir, be you ruled by me. I have brought you from
- Venice. Watch you tonight; for the command, I'll lay't upon you.
- Cassio knows you not. I'll not be far from you. Do you find some
- occasion to anger Cassio, either by speaking too loud, or
- tainting his discipline, or from what other course you please,
- which the time shall more favorably minister.
- RODERIGO. Well.
- IAGO. Sir, he is rash and very sudden in choler, and haply may
- strike at you. Provoke him, that he may; for even out of that
- will I cause these of Cyprus to mutiny, whose qualification shall
- come into no true taste again but by the displanting of Cassio.
- So shall you have a shorter journey to your desires by the means
- I shall then have to prefer them, and the impediment most
- profitably removed, without the which there were no expectation
- of our prosperity.
- RODERIGO. I will do this, if I can bring it to any opportunity.
- IAGO. I warrant thee. Meet me by and by at the citadel. I must
- fetch his necessaries ashore. Farewell.
- RODERIGO. Adieu. Exit.
- IAGO. That Cassio loves her, I do well believe it;
- That she loves him, 'tis apt and of great credit.
- The Moor, howbeit that I endure him not,
- Is of a constant, loving, noble nature,
- And I dare think he'll prove to Desdemona
- A most dear husband. Now, I do love her too,
- Not out of absolute lust, though peradventure
- I stand accountant for as great a sin,
- But partly led to diet my revenge,
- For that I do suspect the lusty Moor
- Hath leap'd into my seat; the thought whereof
- Doth like a poisonous mineral gnaw my inwards,
- And nothing can or shall content my soul
- Till I am even'd with him, wife for wife.
- Or failing so, yet that I put the Moor
- At least into a jealousy so strong
- That judgement cannot cure. Which thing to do,
- If this poor trash of Venice, whom I trace
- For his quick hunting, stand the putting on,
- I'll have our Michael Cassio on the hip,
- Abuse him to the Moor in the rank garb
- (For I fear Cassio with my nightcap too),
- Make the Moor thank me, love me, and reward me
- For making him egregiously an ass
- And practicing upon his peace and quiet
- Even to madness. 'Tis here, but yet confused:
- Knavery's plain face is never seen till used. Exit.
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-A street.
-
-Enter a Herald with a proclamation; people following.
-
- HERALD. It is Othello's pleasure, our noble and valiant general,
- that upon certain tidings now arrived, importing the mere
- perdition of the Turkish fleet, every man put himself into
- triumph; some to dance, some to make bonfires, each man to what
- sport and revels his addiction leads him; for besides these
- beneficial news, it is the celebration of his nuptial. So much
- was his pleasure should be proclaimed. All offices are open, and
- there is full liberty of feasting from this present hour of five
- till the bell have told eleven. Heaven bless the isle of Cyprus
- and our noble general Othello! Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-A hall in the castle.
-
-Enter Othello, Desdemona, Cassio, and Attendants.
-
- OTHELLO. Good Michael, look you to the guard tonight.
- Let's teach ourselves that honorable stop,
- Not to outsport discretion.
- CASSIO. Iago hath direction what to do;
- But notwithstanding with my personal eye
- Will I look to't.
- OTHELLO. Iago is most honest.
- Michael, good night. Tomorrow with your earliest
- Let me have speech with you. Come, my dear love,
- The purchase made, the fruits are to ensue;
- That profit's yet to come 'tween me and you.
- Good night.
- Exeunt Othello, Desdemona, and Attendants.
-
- Enter Iago.
-
- CASSIO. Welcome, Iago; we must to the watch.
- IAGO. Not this hour, lieutenant; 'tis not yet ten o' the clock. Our
- general cast us thus early for the love of his Desdemona; who let
- us not therefore blame. He hath not yet made wanton the night
- with her, and she is sport for Jove.
- CASSIO. She's a most exquisite lady.
- IAGO. And, I'll warrant her, full of game.
- CASSIO. Indeed she's a most fresh and delicate creature.
- IAGO. What an eye she has! Methinks it sounds a parley to
- provocation.
- CASSIO. An inviting eye; and yet methinks right modest.
- IAGO. And when she speaks, is it not an alarum to love?
- CASSIO. She is indeed perfection.
- IAGO. Well, happiness to their sheets! Come, lieutenant, I have a
- stope of wine, and here without are a brace of Cyprus gallants
- that would fain have a measure to the health of black Othello.
- CASSIO. Not tonight, good Iago. I have very poor and unhappy brains
- for drinking. I could well wish courtesy would invent some other
- custom of entertainment.
- IAGO. O, they are our friends! But one cup; I'll drink for you.
- CASSIO. I have drunk but one cup tonight, and that was craftily
- qualified too, and behold what innovation it makes here. I am
- unfortunate in the infirmity, and dare not task my weakness with
- any more.
- IAGO. What, man! 'Tis a night of revels, the gallants desire it.
- CASSIO. Where are they?
- IAGO. Here at the door; I pray you, call them in.
- CASSIO. I'll do't, but it dislikes me. Exit.
- IAGO. If I can fasten but one cup upon him,
- With that which he hath drunk tonight already,
- He'll be as full of quarrel and offense
- As my young mistress' dog. Now my sick fool Roderigo,
- Whom love hath turn'd almost the wrong side out,
- To Desdemona hath tonight caroused
- Potations pottle-deep; and he's to watch.
- Three lads of Cyprus, noble swelling spirits,
- That hold their honors in a wary distance,
- The very elements of this warlike isle,
- Have I tonight fluster'd with flowing cups,
- And they watch too. Now, 'mongst this flock of drunkards,
- Am I to put our Cassio in some action
- That may offend the isle. But here they come.
- If consequence do but approve my dream,
- My boat sails freely, both with wind and stream.
-
- Re-enter Cassio; with him Montano and Gentlemen;
- Servants following with wine.
-
- CASSIO. 'Fore God, they have given me a rouse already.
- MONTANO. Good faith, a little one; not past a pint, as I am a
- soldier.
- IAGO. Some wine, ho!
-
- [Sings.] "And let me the canakin clink, clink;
- And let me the canakin clink.
- A soldier's a man;
- O, man's life's but a span;
- Why then let a soldier drink."
-
- Some wine, boys!
- CASSIO. 'Fore God, an excellent song.
- IAGO. I learned it in England, where indeed they are most potent in
- potting. Your Dane, your German, and your swag-bellied Hollander-
- Drink, ho!- are nothing to your English.
- CASSIO. Is your Englishman so expert in his drinking?
- IAGO. Why, he drinks you with facility your Dane dead drunk; he
- sweats not to overthrow your Almain; he gives your Hollander a
- vomit ere the next pottle can be filled.
- CASSIO. To the health of our general!
- MONTANO. I am for it, lieutenant, and I'll do you justice.
- IAGO. O sweet England!
-
- [Sings.] "King Stephen was and-a worthy peer,
- His breeches cost him but a crown;
- He held them sixpence all too dear,
- With that he call'd the tailor lown.
-
- "He was a wight of high renown,
- And thou art but of low degree.
- 'Tis pride that pulls the country down;
- Then take thine auld cloak about thee."
-
- Some wine, ho!
- CASSIO. Why, this is a more exquisite song than the other.
- IAGO. Will you hear't again?
- CASSIO. No, for I hold him to be unworthy of his place that does
- those things. Well, God's above all, and there be souls must be
- saved, and there be souls must not be saved.
- IAGO. It's true, good lieutenant.
- CASSIO. For mine own part- no offense to the general, nor any man
- of quality- I hope to be saved.
- IAGO. And so do I too, lieutenant.
- CASSIO. Ay, but, by your leave, not before me; the lieutenant is to
- be saved before the ancient. Let's have no more of this; let's to
- our affairs. God forgive us our sins! Gentlemen, let's look to
- our business. Do not think, gentlemen, I am drunk: this is my
- ancient, this is my right hand, and this is my left. I am not
- drunk now; I can stand well enough, and I speak well enough.
- ALL. Excellent well.
- CASSIO. Why, very well then; you must not think then that I am
- drunk. Exit.
- MONTANO. To the platform, masters; come, let's set the watch.
- IAGO. You see this fellow that is gone before;
- He is a soldier fit to stand by Caesar
- And give direction. And do but see his vice;
- 'Tis to his virtue a just equinox,
- The one as long as the other. 'Tis pity of him.
- I fear the trust Othello puts him in
- On some odd time of his infirmity
- Will shake this island.
- MONTANO. But is he often thus?
- IAGO. 'Tis evermore the prologue to his sleep.
- He'll watch the horologe a double set,
- If drink rock not his cradle.
- MONTANO. It were well
- The general were put in mind of it.
- Perhaps he sees it not, or his good nature
- Prizes the virtue that appears in Cassio
- And looks not on his evils. Is not this true?
-
- Enter Roderigo.
-
- IAGO. [Aside to him.] How now, Roderigo!
- I pray you, after the lieutenant; go. Exit Roderigo.
- MONTANO. And 'tis great pity that the noble Moor
- Should hazard such a place as his own second
- With one of an ingraft infirmity.
- It were an honest action to say
- So to the Moor.
- IAGO. Not I, for this fair island.
- I do love Cassio well, and would do much
- To cure him of this evil- But, hark! What noise?
- A cry within, "Help, help!"
-
- Re-enter Cassio, driving in Roderigo.
-
- CASSIO. 'Zounds! You rogue! You rascal!
- MONTANO. What's the matter, lieutenant?
- CASSIO. A knave teach me my duty! But I'll beat the knave into a
- twiggen bottle.
- RODERIGO. Beat me!
- CASSIO. Dost thou prate, rogue? Strikes Roderigo.
- MONTANO. Nay, good lieutenant; I pray you, sir, hold your hand.
- CASSIO. Let me go, sir, or I'll knock you o'er the mazzard.
- MONTANO. Come, come, you're drunk.
- CASSIO. Drunk? They fight.
- IAGO. [Aside to Roderigo.] Away, I say; go out and cry a mutiny.
- Exit Roderigo.
- Nay, good lieutenant! God's will, gentlemen!
- Help, ho!- Lieutenant- sir- Montano- sir-
- Help, masters!- Here's a goodly watch indeed!
- A bell rings.
- Who's that that rings the bell?- Diablo, ho!
- The town will rise. God's will, lieutenant, hold!
- You will be shamed forever.
-
- Re-enter Othello and Attendants.
-
- OTHELLO. What is the matter here?
- MONTANO. 'Zounds, I bleed still; I am hurt to the death.
- Faints.
- OTHELLO. Hold, for your lives!
- IAGO. Hold, ho! Lieutenant- sir- Montano- gentlemen-
- Have you forgot all place of sense and duty?
- Hold! the general speaks to you! Hold, hold, for shame!
- OTHELLO. Why, how now, ho! from whence ariseth this?
- Are we turn'd Turks, and to ourselves do that
- Which heaven hath forbid the Ottomites?
- For Christian shame, put by this barbarous brawl.
- He that stirs next to carve for his own rage
- Holds his soul light; he dies upon his motion.
- Silence that dreadful bell; it frights the isle
- From her propriety. What is the matter, masters?
- Honest Iago, that look'st dead with grieving,
- Speak: who began this? On thy love, I charge thee.
- IAGO. I do not know. Friends all but now, even now,
- In quarter, and in terms like bride and groom
- Devesting them for bed; and then, but now
- (As if some planet had unwitted men),
- Swords out, and tilting one at other's breast,
- In opposition bloody. I cannot speak
- Any beginning to this peevish odds;
- And would in action glorious I had lost
- Those legs that brought me to a part of it!
- OTHELLO. How comes it, Michael, you are thus forgot?
- CASSIO. I pray you, pardon me; I cannot speak.
- OTHELLO. Worthy Montano, you were wont be civil;
- The gravity and stillness of your youth
- The world hath noted, and your name is great
- In mouths of wisest censure. What's the matter,
- That you unlace your reputation thus,
- And spend your rich opinion for the name
- Of a night-brawler? Give me answer to it.
- MONTANO. Worthy Othello, I am hurt to danger.
- Your officer, Iago, can inform you-
- While I spare speech, which something now offends me-
- Of all that I do know. Nor know I aught
- By me that's said or done amiss this night,
- Unless self-charity be sometimes a vice,
- And to defend ourselves it be a sin
- When violence assails us.
- OTHELLO. Now, by heaven,
- My blood begins my safer guides to rule,
- And passion, having my best judgement collied,
- Assays to lead the way. If I once stir,
- Or do but lift this arm, the best of you
- Shall sink in my rebuke. Give me to know
- How this foul rout began, who set it on,
- And he that is approved in this offense,
- Though he had twinn'd with me, both at a birth,
- Shall lose me. What! in a town of war,
- Yet wild, the people's hearts brimful of fear,
- To manage private and domestic quarrel,
- In night, and on the court and guard of safety!
- 'Tis monstrous. Iago, who began't?
- MONTANO. If partially affined, or leagued in office,
- Thou dost deliver more or less than truth,
- Thou art no soldier.
- IAGO. Touch me not so near:
- I had rather have this tongue cut from my mouth
- Than it should do offense to Michael Cassio;
- Yet, I persuade myself, to speak the truth
- Shall nothing wrong him. Thus it is, general.
- Montano and myself being in speech,
- There comes a fellow crying out for help,
- And Cassio following him with determined sword,
- To execute upon him. Sir, this gentleman
- Steps in to Cassio and entreats his pause.
- Myself the crying fellow did pursue,
- Lest by his clamor- as it so fell out-
- The town might fall in fright. He, swift of foot,
- Outran my purpose; and I return'd the rather
- For that I heard the clink and fall of swords,
- And Cassio high in oath, which till tonight
- I ne'er might say before. When I came back-
- For this was brief- I found them close together,
- At blow and thrust, even as again they were
- When you yourself did part them.
- More of this matter cannot I report.
- But men are men; the best sometimes forget.
- Though Cassio did some little wrong to him,
- As men in rage strike those that wish them best,
- Yet surely Cassio, I believe, received
- From him that fled some strange indignity,
- Which patience could not pass.
- OTHELLO. I know, Iago,
- Thy honesty and love doth mince this matter,
- Making it light to Cassio. Cassio, I love thee,
- But never more be officer of mine.
-
- Re-enter Desdemona, attended.
-
- Look, if my gentle love be not raised up!
- I'll make thee an example.
- DESDEMONA. What's the matter?
- OTHELLO. All's well now, sweeting; come away to bed.
- Sir, for your hurts, myself will be your surgeon.
- Lead him off. Exit Montano, attended.
- Iago, look with care about the town,
- And silence those whom this vile brawl distracted.
- Come, Desdemona, 'tis the soldiers' life.
- To have their balmy slumbers waked with strife.
- Exeunt all but Iago and Cassio.
- IAGO. What, are you hurt, lieutenant?
- CASSIO. Ay, past all surgery.
- IAGO. Marry, heaven forbid!
- CASSIO. Reputation, reputation, reputation! O, I have lost my
- reputation! I have lost the immortal part of myself, and what
- remains is bestial. My reputation, Iago, my reputation!
- IAGO. As I am an honest man, I thought you had received some bodily
- wound; there is more sense in that than in reputation. Reputation
- is an idle and most false imposition; oft got without merit and
- lost without deserving. You have lost no reputation at all,
- unless you repute yourself such a loser. What, man! there are
- ways to recover the general again. You are but now cast in his
- mood, a punishment more in policy than in malice; even so as one
- would beat his offenseless dog to affright an imperious lion. Sue
- to him again, and he's yours.
- CASSIO. I will rather sue to be despised than to deceive so good a
- commander with so slight, so drunken, and so indiscreet an
- officer. Drunk? and speak parrot? and squabble? swagger? swear?
- and discourse fustian with one's own shadow? O thou invisible
- spirit of wine, if thou hast no name to be known by, let us call
- thee devil!
- IAGO. What was he that you followed with your sword?
- What had he done to you?
- CASSIO. I know not.
- IAGO. Is't possible?
- CASSIO. I remember a mass of things, but nothing distinctly; a
- quarrel, but nothing wherefore. O God, that men should put an
- enemy in their mouths to steal away their brains! that we should,
- with joy, pleasance, revel, and applause, transform ourselves
- into beasts!
- IAGO. Why, but you are now well enough. How came you thus
- recovered?
- CASSIO. It hath pleased the devil drunkenness to give place to the
- devil wrath: one unperfectness shows me another, to make me
- frankly despise myself.
- IAGO. Come, you are too severe a moraler. As the time, the place,
- and the condition of this country stands, I could heartily wish
- this had not befallen; but since it is as it is, mend it for your
- own good.
- CASSIO. I will ask him for my place again; he shall tell me I am a
- drunkard! Had I as many mouths as Hydra, such an answer would
- stop them all. To be now a sensible man, by and by a fool, and
- presently a beast! O strange! Every inordinate cup is unblest,
- and the ingredient is a devil.
- IAGO. Come, come, good wine is a good familiar creature, if it be
- well used. Exclaim no more against it. And, good lieutenant, I
- think you think I love you.
- CASSIO. I have well approved it, sir. I drunk!
- IAGO. You or any man living may be drunk at some time, man. I'll
- tell you what you shall do. Our general's wife is now the
- general. I may say so in this respect, for that he hath devoted
- and given up himself to the contemplation, mark, and denotement
- of her parts and graces. Confess yourself freely to her;
- importune her help to put you in your place again. She is of so
- free, so kind, so apt, so blessed a disposition, she holds it a
- vice in her goodness not to do more than she is requested. This
- broken joint between you and her husband entreat her to splinter;
- and, my fortunes against any lay worth naming, this crack of your
- love shall grow stronger than it was before.
- CASSIO. You advise me well.
- IAGO. I protest, in the sincerity of love and honest kindness.
- CASSIO. I think it freely; and betimes in the morning I will beseech
- the virtuous Desdemona to undertake for me. I am desperate of my
- fortunes if they check me here.
- IAGO. You are in the right. Good night, lieutenant, I must to the
- watch.
- CASSIO. Good night, honest Iago. Exit.
- IAGO. And what's he then that says I play the villain?
- When this advice is free I give and honest,
- Probal to thinking, and indeed the course
- To win the Moor again? For 'tis most easy
- The inclining Desdemona to subdue
- In any honest suit. She's framed as fruitful
- As the free elements. And then for her
- To win the Moor, were't to renounce his baptism,
- All seals and symbols of redeemed sin,
- His soul is so enfetter'd to her love,
- That she may make, unmake, do what she list,
- Even as her appetite shall play the god
- With his weak function. How am I then a villain
- To counsel Cassio to this parallel course,
- Directly to his good? Divinity of hell!
- When devils will the blackest sins put on,
- They do suggest at first with heavenly shows,
- As I do now. For whiles this honest fool
- Plies Desdemona to repair his fortune,
- And she for him pleads strongly to the Moor,
- I'll pour this pestilence into his ear,
- That she repeals him for her body's lust;
- And by how much she strives to do him good,
- She shall undo her credit with the Moor.
- So will I turn her virtue into pitch,
- And out of her own goodness make the net
- That shall enmesh them all.
-
- Enter Roderigo.
-
- How now, Roderigo!
- RODERIGO. I do follow here in the chase, not like a hound that
- hunts, but one that fills up the cry. My money is almost spent; I
- have been tonight exceedingly well cudgeled; and I think the
- issue will be, I shall have so much experience for my pains; and
- so, with no money at all and a little more wit, return again to
- Venice.
- IAGO. How poor are they that have not patience!
- What wound did ever heal but by degrees?
- Thou know'st we work by wit and not by witchcraft,
- And wit depends on dilatory time.
- Does't not go well? Cassio hath beaten thee,
- And thou by that small hurt hast cashier'd Cassio.
- Though other things grow fair against the sun,
- Yet fruits that blossom first will first be ripe.
- Content thyself awhile. By the mass, 'tis morning;
- Pleasure and action make the hours seem short.
- Retire thee; go where thou art billeted.
- Away, I say. Thou shalt know more hereafter.
- Nay, get thee gone. [Exit Roderigo.] Two things are to be done:
- My wife must move for Cassio to her mistress-
- I'll set her on;
- Myself the while to draw the Moor apart,
- And bring him jump when he may Cassio find
- Soliciting his wife. Ay, that's the way;
- Dull not device by coldness and delay. Exit.
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT III. SCENE I.
-Before the castle.
-
-Enter Cassio and some Musicians.
-
- CASSIO. Masters, play here, I will content your pains; Something
- that's brief; and bid "Good morrow, general."
- Music.
-
- Enter Clown.
-
- CLOWN. Why, masters, have your instruments been in Naples, that
- they speak i' the nose thus?
- FIRST MUSICIAN. How, sir, how?
- CLOWN. Are these, I pray you, wind instruments?
- FIRST MUSICIAN. Ay, marry, are they, sir.
- CLOWN. O, thereby hangs a tail.
- FIRST MUSICIAN. Whereby hangs a tale, sir?
- CLOWN. Marry, sir, by many a wind instrument that I know. But,
- masters, here's money for you; and the general so likes your
- music, that he desires you, for love's sake, to make no more
- noise with it.
- FIRST MUSICIAN. Well, sir, we will not.
- CLOWN. If you have any music that may not be heard, to't again;
- but, as they say, to hear music the general does not greatly
- care.
- FIRST MUSICIAN. We have none such, sir.
- CLOWN. Then put up your pipes in your bag, for I'll away.
- Go, vanish into air, away! Exeunt Musicians.
- CASSIO. Dost thou hear, my honest friend?
- CLOWN. No, I hear not your honest friend; I hear you.
- CASSIO. Prithee, keep up thy quillets. There's a poor piece of gold
- for thee. If the gentlewoman that attends the general's wife be
- stirring, tell her there's one Cassio entreats her a little favor
- of speech. Wilt thou do this?
- CLOWN. She is stirring, sir. If she will stir hither, I shall seem
- to notify unto her.
- CASSIO. Do, good my friend. Exit Clown.
-
- Enter Iago.
-
- In happy time, Iago.
- IAGO. You have not been abed, then?
- CASSIO. Why, no; the day had broke
- Before we parted. I have made bold, Iago,
- To send in to your wife. My suit to her
- Is that she will to virtuous Desdemona
- Procure me some access.
- IAGO. I'll send her to you presently;
- And I'll devise a mean to draw the Moor
- Out of the way, that your converse and business
- May be more free.
- CASSIO. I humbly thank you for't. [Exit Iago.] I never knew
- A Florentine more kind and honest.
-
- Enter Emilia.
-
- EMILIA. Good morrow, good lieutenant. I am sorry
- For your displeasure, but all will sure be well.
- The general and his wife are talking of it,
- And she speaks for you stoutly. The Moor replies
- That he you hurt is of great fame in Cyprus
- And great affinity and that in wholesome wisdom
- He might not but refuse you; but he protests he loves you
- And needs no other suitor but his likings
- To take the safest occasion by the front
- To bring you in again.
- CASSIO. Yet, I beseech you,
- If you think fit, or that it may be done,
- Give me advantage of some brief discourse
- With Desdemona alone.
- EMILIA. Pray you, come in.
- I will bestow you where you shall have time
- To speak your bosom freely.
- CASSIO. I am much bound to you.
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-A room in the castle.
-
-Enter Othello, Iago, and Gentlemen.
-
- OTHELLO. These letters give, Iago, to the pilot,
- And by him do my duties to the Senate.
- That done, I will be walking on the works;
- Repair there to me.
- IAGO. Well, my good lord, I'll do't.
- OTHELLO. This fortification, gentlemen, shall we see't?
- GENTLEMEN. We'll wait upon your lordship. Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-The garden of the castle.
-
-Enter Desdemona, Cassio, and Emilia.
-
- DESDEMONA. Be thou assured, good Cassio, I will do
- All my abilities in thy behalf.
- EMILIA. Good madam, do. I warrant it grieves my husband
- As if the cause were his.
- DESDEMONA. O, that's an honest fellow. Do not doubt, Cassio,
- But I will have my lord and you again
- As friendly as you were.
- CASSIO. Bounteous madam,
- Whatever shall become of Michael Cassio,
- He's never anything but your true servant.
- DESDEMONA. I know't: I thank you. You do love my lord:
- You have known him long; and be you well assured
- He shall in strangeness stand no farther off
- Than in a politic distance.
- CASSIO. Ay, but, lady,
- That policy may either last so long,
- Or feed upon such nice and waterish diet,
- Or breed itself so out of circumstances,
- That I being absent and my place supplied,
- My general will forget my love and service.
- DESDEMONA. Do not doubt that. Before Emilia here
- I give thee warrant of thy place, assure thee,
- If I do vow a friendship, I'll perform it
- To the last article. My lord shall never rest;
- I'll watch him tame and talk him out of patience;
- His bed shall seem a school, his board a shrift;
- I'll intermingle everything he does
- With Cassio's suit. Therefore be merry, Cassio,
- For thy solicitor shall rather die
- Than give thy cause away.
-
- Enter Othello and Iago, at a distance.
-
- EMILIA. Madam, here comes my lord.
- CASSIO. Madam, I'll take my leave.
- DESDEMONA. Nay, stay and hear me speak.
- CASSIO. Madam, not now. I am very ill at ease,
- Unfit for mine own purposes.
- DESDEMONA. Well, do your discretion. Exit Cassio.
- IAGO. Ha! I like not that.
- OTHELLO. What dost thou say?
- IAGO. Nothing, my lord; or if- I know not what.
- OTHELLO. Was not that Cassio parted from my wife?
- IAGO. Cassio, my lord! No, sure, I cannot think it,
- That he would steal away so guilty-like,
- Seeing you coming.
- OTHELLO. I do believe 'twas he.
- DESDEMONA. How now, my lord!
- I have been talking with a suitor here,
- A man that languishes in your displeasure.
- OTHELLO. Who is't you mean?
- DESDEMONA. Why, your lieutenant, Cassio. Good my lord,
- If I have any grace or power to move you,
- His present reconciliation take;
- For if he be not one that truly loves you,
- That errs in ignorance and not in cunning,
- I have no judgement in an honest face.
- I prithee, call him back.
- OTHELLO. Went he hence now?
- DESDEMONA. Ay, sooth; so humbled
- That he hath left part of his grief with me
- To suffer with him. Good love, call him back.
- OTHELLO. Not now, sweet Desdemona; some other time.
- DESDEMONA. But shall't be shortly?
- OTHELLO. The sooner, sweet, for you.
- DESDEMONA. Shall't be tonight at supper?
- OTHELLO. No, not tonight.
- DESDEMONA. Tomorrow dinner then?
- OTHELLO. I shall not dine at home;
- I meet the captains at the citadel.
- DESDEMONA. Why then tomorrow night, or Tuesday morn,
- On Tuesday noon, or night, on Wednesday morn.
- I prithee, name the time, but let it not
- Exceed three days. In faith, he's penitent;
- And yet his trespass, in our common reason-
- Save that, they say, the wars must make example
- Out of their best- is not almost a fault
- To incur a private check. When shall he come?
- Tell me, Othello. I wonder in my soul,
- What you would ask me, that I should deny,
- Or stand so mammering on. What? Michael Cassio,
- That came awooing with you, and so many a time
- When I have spoke of you dispraisingly
- Hath ta'en your part- to have so much to do
- To bring him in! Trust me, I could do much-
- OTHELLO. Prithee, no more. Let him come when he will;
- I will deny thee nothing.
- DESDEMONA. Why, this is not a boon;
- 'Tis as I should entreat you wear your gloves,
- Or feed on nourishing dishes, or keep you warm,
- Or sue to you to do a peculiar profit
- To your own person. Nay, when I have a suit
- Wherein I mean to touch your love indeed,
- It shall be full of poise and difficult weight,
- And fearful to be granted.
- OTHELLO. I will deny thee nothing,
- Whereon, I do beseech thee, grant me this,
- To leave me but a little to myself.
- DESDEMONA. Shall I deny you? No. Farewell, my lord.
- OTHELLO. Farewell, my Desdemona; I'll come to thee straight.
- DESDEMONA. Emilia, come. Be as your fancies teach you;
- Whate'er you be, I am obedient.
- Exeunt Desdemona and Emilia.
- OTHELLO. Excellent wretch! Perdition catch my soul,
- But I do love thee! and when I love thee not,
- Chaos is come again.
- IAGO. My noble lord-
- OTHELLO. What dost thou say, Iago?
- IAGO. Did Michael Cassio, when you woo'd my lady,
- Know of your love?
- OTHELLO. He did, from first to last. Why dost thou ask?
- IAGO. But for a satisfaction of my thought;
- No further harm.
- OTHELLO. Why of thy thought, Iago?
- IAGO. I did not think he had been acquainted with her.
- OTHELLO. O, yes, and went between us very oft.
- IAGO. Indeed!
- OTHELLO. Indeed? ay, indeed. Discern'st thou aught in that?
- Is he not honest?
- IAGO. Honest, my lord?
- OTHELLO. Honest? Ay, honest.
- IAGO. My lord, for aught I know.
- OTHELLO. What dost thou think?
- IAGO. Think, my lord?
- OTHELLO. Think, my lord? By heaven, he echoes me,
- As if there were some monster in his thought
- Too hideous to be shown. Thou dost mean something.
- I heard thee say even now, thou like'st not that,
- When Cassio left my wife. What didst not like?
- And when I told thee he was of my counsel
- In my whole course of wooing, thou criedst, "Indeed!"
- And didst contract and purse thy brow together,
- As if thou then hadst shut up in thy brain
- Some horrible conceit. If thou dost love me,
- Show me thy thought.
- IAGO. My lord, you know I love you.
- OTHELLO. I think thou dost;
- And for I know thou'rt full of love and honesty
- And weigh'st thy words before thou givest them breath,
- Therefore these stops of thine fright me the more;
- For such things in a false disloyal knave
- Are tricks of custom; but in a man that's just
- They're close dilations, working from the heart,
- That passion cannot rule.
- IAGO. For Michael Cassio,
- I dare be sworn I think that he is honest.
- OTHELLO. I think so too.
- IAGO. Men should be what they seem;
- Or those that be not, would they might seem none!
- OTHELLO. Certain, men should be what they seem.
- IAGO. Why then I think Cassio's an honest man.
- OTHELLO. Nay, yet there's more in this.
- I prithee, speak to me as to thy thinkings,
- As thou dost ruminate, and give thy worst of thoughts
- The worst of words.
- IAGO. Good my lord, pardon me;
- Though I am bound to every act of duty,
- I am not bound to that all slaves are free to.
- Utter my thoughts? Why, say they are vile and false;
- As where's that palace whereinto foul things
- Sometimes intrude not? Who has a breast so pure,
- But some uncleanly apprehensions
- Keep leets and law-days, and in session sit
- With meditations lawful?
- OTHELLO. Thou dost conspire against thy friend, Iago,
- If thou but think'st him wrong'd and makest his ear
- A stranger to thy thoughts.
- IAGO. I do beseech you-
- Though I perchance am vicious in my guess,
- As, I confess, it is my nature's plague
- To spy into abuses, and oft my jealousy
- Shapes faults that are not- that your wisdom yet,
- From one that so imperfectly conceits,
- Would take no notice, nor build yourself a trouble
- Out of his scattering and unsure observance.
- It were not for your quiet nor your good,
- Nor for my manhood, honesty, or wisdom,
- To let you know my thoughts.
- OTHELLO. What dost thou mean?
- IAGO. Good name in man and woman, dear my lord,
- Is the immediate jewel of their souls.
- Who steals my purse steals trash; 'tis something, nothing;
- 'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands;
- But he that filches from me my good name
- Robs me of that which not enriches him
- And makes me poor indeed.
- OTHELLO. By heaven, I'll know thy thoughts.
- IAGO. You cannot, if my heart were in your hand;
- Nor shall not, whilst 'tis in my custody.
- OTHELLO. Ha!
- IAGO. O, beware, my lord, of jealousy!
- It is the green-eyed monster, which doth mock
- The meat it feeds on. That cuckold lives in bliss
- Who, certain of his fate, loves not his wronger;
- But O, what damned minutes tells he o'er
- Who dotes, yet doubts, suspects, yet strongly loves!
- OTHELLO. O misery!
- IAGO. Poor and content is rich, and rich enough;
- But riches fineless is as poor as winter
- To him that ever fears he shall be poor.
- Good heaven, the souls of all my tribe defend
- From jealousy!
- OTHELLO. Why, why is this?
- Think'st thou I'ld make a life of jealousy,
- To follow still the changes of the moon
- With fresh suspicions? No! To be once in doubt
- Is once to be resolved. Exchange me for a goat
- When I shall turn the business of my soul
- To such exsufflicate and blown surmises,
- Matching thy inference. 'Tis not to make me jealous
- To say my wife is fair, feeds well, loves company,
- Is free of speech, sings, plays, and dances well;
- Where virtue is, these are more virtuous.
- Nor from mine own weak merits will I draw
- The smallest fear or doubt of her revolt;
- For she had eyes and chose me. No, Iago,
- I'll see before I doubt; when I doubt, prove;
- And on the proof, there is no more but this-
- Away at once with love or jealousy!
- IAGO. I am glad of it, for now I shall have reason
- To show the love and duty that I bear you
- With franker spirit. Therefore, as I am bound,
- Receive it from me. I speak not yet of proof.
- Look to your wife; observe her well with Cassio;
- Wear your eye thus, not jealous nor secure.
- I would not have your free and noble nature
- Out of self-bounty be abused. Look to't.
- I know our country disposition well;
- In Venice they do let heaven see the pranks
- They dare not show their husbands; their best conscience
- Is not to leave't undone, but keep't unknown.
- OTHELLO. Dost thou say so?
- IAGO. She did deceive her father, marrying you;
- And when she seem'd to shake and fear your looks,
- She loved them most.
- OTHELLO. And so she did.
- IAGO. Why, go to then.
- She that so young could give out such a seeming,
- To seel her father's eyes up close as oak-
- He thought 'twas witchcraft- but I am much to blame;
- I humbly do beseech you of your pardon
- For too much loving you.
- OTHELLO. I am bound to thee forever.
- IAGO. I see this hath a little dash'd your spirits.
- OTHELLO. Not a jot, not a jot.
- IAGO. I'faith, I fear it has.
- I hope you will consider what is spoke
- Comes from my love. But I do see you're moved;
- I am to pray you not to strain my speech
- To grosser issues nor to larger reach
- Than to suspicion.
- OTHELLO. I will not.
- IAGO. Should you do so, my lord,
- My speech should fall into such vile success
- Which my thoughts aim not at. Cassio's my worthy friend-
- My lord, I see you're moved.
- OTHELLO. No, not much moved.
- I do not think but Desdemona's honest.
- IAGO. Long live she so! and long live you to think so!
- OTHELLO. And yet, how nature erring from itself-
- IAGO. Ay, there's the point, as- to be bold with you-
- Not to affect many proposed matches
- Of her own clime, complexion, and degree,
- Whereto we see in all things nature tends-
- Foh, one may smell in such a will most rank,
- Foul disproportion, thoughts unnatural.
- But pardon me. I do not in position
- Distinctly speak of her; though I may fear,
- Her will, recoiling to her better judgement,
- May fall to match you with her country forms,
- And happily repent.
- OTHELLO. Farewell, farewell.
- If more thou dost perceive, let me know more;
- Set on thy wife to observe. Leave me, Iago.
- IAGO. [Going.] My lord, I take my leave.
- OTHELLO. Why did I marry? This honest creature doubtless
- Sees and knows more, much more, than he unfolds.
- IAGO. [Returning.] My lord, I would I might entreat your honor
- To scan this thing no further; leave it to time.
- Though it be fit that Cassio have his place,
- For sure he fills it up with great ability,
- Yet, if you please to hold him off awhile,
- You shall by that perceive him and his means.
- Note if your lady strain his entertainment
- With any strong or vehement importunity;
- Much will be seen in that. In the meantime,
- Let me be thought too busy in my fears-
- As worthy cause I have to fear I am-
- And hold her free, I do beseech your honor.
- OTHELLO. Fear not my government.
- IAGO. I once more take my leave. Exit.
- OTHELLO. This fellow's of exceeding honesty,
- And knows all qualities, with a learned spirit,
- Of human dealings. If I do prove her haggard,
- Though that her jesses were my dear heartstrings,
- I'ld whistle her off and let her down the wind
- To prey at fortune. Haply, for I am black
- And have not those soft parts of conversation
- That chamberers have, or for I am declined
- Into the vale of years- yet that's not much-
- She's gone. I am abused, and my relief
- Must be to loathe her. O curse of marriage,
- That we can call these delicate creatures ours,
- And not their appetites! I had rather be a toad,
- And live upon the vapor of a dungeon,
- Than keep a corner in the thing I love
- For others' uses. Yet, 'tis the plague of great ones:
- Prerogatived are they less than the base;
- 'Tis destiny unshunnable, like death.
- Even then this forked plague is fated to us
- When we do quicken. Desdemona comes:
-
- Re-enter Desdemona and Emilia.
-
- If she be false, O, then heaven mocks itself!
- I'll not believe't.
- DESDEMONA. How now, my dear Othello!
- Your dinner, and the generous islanders
- By you invited, do attend your presence.
- OTHELLO. I am to blame.
- DESDEMONA. Why do you speak so faintly?
- Are you not well?
- OTHELLO. I have a pain upon my forehead here.
- DESDEMONA. Faith, that's with watching; 'twill away again.
- Let me but bind it hard, within this hour
- It will be well.
- OTHELLO. Your napkin is too little;
- He puts the handkerchief from him, and she drops it.
- Let it alone. Come, I'll go in with you.
- DESDEMONA. I am very sorry that you are not well.
- Exeunt Othello and Desdemona.
- EMILIA. I am glad I have found this napkin;
- This was her first remembrance from the Moor.
- My wayward husband hath a hundred times
- Woo'd me to steal it; but she so loves the token,
- For he conjured her she should ever keep it,
- That she reserves it evermore about her
- To kiss and talk to. I'll have the work ta'en out,
- And give't Iago. What he will do with it
- Heaven knows, not I;
- I nothing but to please his fantasy.
-
- Re-enter Iago.
-
- IAGO. How now, what do you here alone?
- EMILIA. Do not you chide; I have a thing for you.
- IAGO. A thing for me? It is a common thing-
- EMILIA. Ha!
- IAGO. To have a foolish wife.
- EMILIA. O, is that all? What will you give me now
- For that same handkerchief?
- IAGO. What handkerchief?
- EMILIA. What handkerchief?
- Why, that the Moor first gave to Desdemona,
- That which so often you did bid me steal.
- IAGO. Hast stol'n it from her?
- EMILIA. No, faith; she let it drop by negligence,
- And, to the advantage, I being here took't up.
- Look, here it is.
- IAGO. A good wench; give it me.
- EMILIA. What will you do with't, that you have been so earnest
- To have me filch it?
- IAGO. [Snatching it.] Why, what is that to you?
- EMILIA. If't be not for some purpose of import,
- Give't me again. Poor lady, she'll run mad
- When she shall lack it.
- IAGO. Be not acknown on't; I have use for it.
- Go, leave me. Exit Emilia.
- I will in Cassio's lodging lose this napkin,
- And let him find it. Trifles light as air
- Are to the jealous confirmations strong
- As proofs of holy writ; this may do something.
- The Moor already changes with my poison:
- Dangerous conceits are in their natures poisons,
- Which at the first are scarce found to distaste,
- But with a little act upon the blood
- Burn like the mines of sulphur. I did say so.
- Look, where he comes!
-
- Re-enter Othello.
-
- Not poppy, nor mandragora,
- Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world,
- Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep
- Which thou owedst yesterday.
- OTHELLO. Ha, ha, false to me?
- IAGO. Why, how now, general! No more of that.
- OTHELLO. Avaunt! be gone! Thou hast set me on the rack.
- I swear 'tis better to be much abused
- Than but to know't a little.
- IAGO. How now, my lord?
- OTHELLO. What sense had I of her stol'n hours of lust?
- I saw't not, thought it not, it harm'd not me;
- I slept the next night well, was free and merry;
- I found not Cassio's kisses on her lips.
- He that is robb'd, not wanting what is stol'n,
- Let him not know't and he's not robb'd at all.
- IAGO. I am sorry to hear this.
- OTHELLO. I had been happy if the general camp,
- Pioners and all, had tasted her sweet body,
- So I had nothing known. O, now forever
- Farewell the tranquil mind! Farewell content!
- Farewell the plumed troop and the big wars
- That make ambition virtue! O, farewell,
- Farewell the neighing steed and the shrill trump,
- The spirit-stirring drum, the ear-piercing fife,
- The royal banner, and all quality,
- Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war!
- And O you mortal engines, whose rude throats
- The immortal Jove's dread clamors counterfeit,
- Farewell! Othello's occupation's gone!
- IAGO. Is't possible, my lord?
- OTHELLO. Villain, be sure thou prove my love a whore;
- Be sure of it. Give me the ocular proof;
- Or, by the worth of man's eternal soul,
- Thou hadst been better have been born a dog
- Than answer my waked wrath!
- IAGO. Is't come to this?
- OTHELLO. Make me to see't; or at the least so prove it,
- That the probation bear no hinge nor loop
- To hang a doubt on; or woe upon thy life!
- IAGO. My noble lord-
- OTHELLO. If thou dost slander her and torture me,
- Never pray more; abandon all remorse;
- On horror's head horrors accumulate;
- Do deeds to make heaven weep, all earth amazed;
- For nothing canst thou to damnation add
- Greater than that.
- IAGO. O grace! O heaven defend me!
- Are you a man? have you a soul or sense?
- God be wi' you; take mine office. O wretched fool,
- That livest to make thine honesty a vice!
- O monstrous world! Take note, take note, O world,
- To be direct and honest is not safe.
- I thank you for this profit, and from hence
- I'll love no friend sith love breeds such offense.
- OTHELLO. Nay, stay; thou shouldst be honest.
- IAGO. I should be wise; for honesty's a fool,
- And loses that it works for.
- OTHELLO. By the world,
- I think my wife be honest, and think she is not;
- I think that thou art just, and think thou art not.
- I'll have some proof. Her name, that was as fresh
- As Dian's visage, is now begrimed and black
- As mine own face. If there be cords or knives,
- Poison or fire, or suffocating streams,
- I'll not endure it. Would I were satisfied!
- IAGO. I see, sir, you are eaten up with passion;
- I do repent me that I put it to you.
- You would be satisfied?
- OTHELLO. Would? Nay, I will.
- IAGO. And may. But, how? how satisfied, my lord?
- Would you, the supervisor, grossly gape on?
- Behold her topp'd?
- OTHELLO. Death and damnation! O!
- IAGO. It were a tedious difficulty, I think,
- To bring them to that prospect. Damn them then,
- If ever mortal eyes do see them bolster
- More than their own! What then? how then?
- What shall I say? Where's satisfaction?
- It is impossible you should see this
- Were they as prime as goats, as hot as monkeys,
- As salt as wolves in pride, and fools as gross
- As ignorance made drunk. But yet, I say,
- If imputation and strong circumstances,
- Which lead directly to the door of truth,
- Will give you satisfaction, you may have't.
- OTHELLO. Give me a living reason she's disloyal.
- IAGO. I do not like the office;
- But sith I am enter'd in this cause so far,
- Prick'd to't by foolish honesty and love,
- I will go on. I lay with Cassio lately
- And, being troubled with a raging tooth,
- I could not sleep.
- There are a kind of men so loose of soul,
- That in their sleeps will mutter their affairs;
- One of this kind is Cassio.
- In sleep I heard him say, "Sweet Desdemona,
- Let us be wary, let us hide our loves";
- And then, sir, would he gripe and wring my hand,
- Cry, "O sweet creature!" and then kiss me hard,
- As if he pluck'd up kisses by the roots,
- That grew upon my lips; then laid his leg
- Over my thigh, and sigh'd and kiss'd; and then
- Cried, "Cursed fate that gave thee to the Moor!"
- OTHELLO. O monstrous! monstrous!
- IAGO. Nay, this was but his dream.
- OTHELLO. But this denoted a foregone conclusion.
- 'Tis a shrewd doubt, though it be but a dream.
- IAGO. And this may help to thicken other proofs
- That do demonstrate thinly.
- OTHELLO. I'll tear her all to pieces.
- IAGO. Nay, but be wise; yet we see nothing done;
- She may be honest yet. Tell me but this;
- Have you not sometimes seen a handkerchief
- Spotted with strawberries in your wife's hand?
- OTHELLO. I gave her such a one; 'twas my first gift.
- IAGO. I know not that; but such a handkerchief-
- I am sure it was your wife's- did I today
- See Cassio wipe his beard with.
- OTHELLO. If it be that-
- IAGO. If it be that, or any that was hers,
- It speaks against her with the other proofs.
- OTHELLO. O, that the slave had forty thousand lives!
- One is too poor, too weak for my revenge.
- Now do I see 'tis true. Look here, Iago,
- All my fond love thus do I blow to heaven.
- 'Tis gone.
- Arise, black vengeance, from thy hollow hell!
- Yield up, O love, thy crown and hearted throne
- To tyrannous hate! Swell, bosom, with thy fraught,
- For 'tis of aspics' tongues!
- IAGO. Yet be content.
- OTHELLO. O, blood, blood, blood!
- IAGO. Patience, I say; your mind perhaps may change.
- OTHELLO. Never, Iago. Like to the Pontic Sea,
- Whose icy current and compulsive course
- Ne'er feels retiring ebb, but keeps due on
- To the Propontic and the Hellespont,
- Even so my bloody thoughts, with violent pace,
- Shall ne'er look back, ne'er ebb to humble love,
- Till that a capable and wide revenge
- Swallow them up. Now, by yond marble heaven,
- In the due reverence of a sacred vow Kneels.
- I here engage my words.
- IAGO. Do not rise yet. Kneels.
- Witness, you ever-burning lights above,
- You elements that clip us round about,
- Witness that here Iago doth give up
- The execution of his wit, hands, heart,
- To wrong'd Othello's service! Let him command,
- And to obey shall be in me remorse,
- What bloody business ever. They rise.
- OTHELLO. I greet thy love,
- Not with vain thanks, but with acceptance bounteous,
- And will upon the instant put thee to't:
- Within these three days let me hear thee say
- That Cassio's not alive.
- IAGO. My friend is dead, 'tis done at your request;
- But let her live.
- OTHELLO. Damn her, lewd minx! O, damn her!
- Come, go with me apart; I will withdraw,
- To furnish me with some swift means of death
- For the fair devil. Now art thou my lieutenant.
- IAGO. I am your own forever. Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-SCENE IV.
-Before the castle.
-
-Enter Desdemona, Emilia, and Clown.
-
- DESDEMONA. Do you know, sirrah, where Lieutenant Cassio lies?
- CLOWN. I dare not say he lies anywhere.
- DESDEMONA. Why, man?
- CLOWN. He's a soldier; and for one to say a soldier lies, is
- stabbing.
- DESDEMONA. Go to! Where lodges he?
- CLOWN. To tell you where he lodges, is to tell you where I lie.
- DESDEMONA. Can anything be made of this?
- CLOWN. I know not where he lodges, and for me to devise a lodging,
- and say he lies here or he lies there, were to lie in mine own
- throat.
- DESDEMONA. Can you inquire him out and be edified by report?
- CLOWN. I will catechize the world for him; that is, make questions
- and by them answer.
- DESDEMONA. Seek him, bid him come hither. Tell him I have moved my
- lord on his behalf and hope all will be well.
- CLOWN. To do this is within the compass of man's wit, and therefore
- I will attempt the doing it. Exit.
- DESDEMONA. Where should I lose that handkerchief, Emilia?
- EMILIA. I know not, madam.
- DESDEMONA. Believe me, I had rather have lost my purse
- Full of crusadoes; and, but my noble Moor
- Is true of mind and made of no such baseness
- As jealous creatures are, it were enough
- To put him to ill thinking.
- EMILIA. Is he not jealous?
- DESDEMONA. Who, he? I think the sun where he was born
- Drew all such humors from him.
- EMILIA. Look, where he comes.
- DESDEMONA. I will not leave him now till Cassio
- Be call'd to him.
-
- Enter Othello.
-
- How is't with you, my lord?
- OTHELLO. Well, my good lady. [Aside.] O, hardness to dissemble!
- How do you, Desdemona?
- DESDEMONA. Well, my good lord.
- OTHELLO. Give me your hand. This hand is moist, my lady.
- DESDEMONA. It yet has felt no age nor known no sorrow.
- OTHELLO. This argues fruitfulness and liberal heart;
- Hot, hot, and moist. This hand of yours requires
- A sequester from liberty, fasting, and prayer,
- Much castigation, exercise devout,
- For here's a young and sweating devil here
- That commonly rebels. 'Tis a good hand,
- A frank one.
- DESDEMONA. You may, indeed, say so;
- For 'twas that hand that gave away my heart.
- OTHELLO. A liberal hand. The hearts of old gave hands;
- But our new heraldry is hands, not hearts.
- DESDEMONA. I cannot speak of this. Come now, your promise.
- OTHELLO. What promise, chuck?
- DESDEMONA. I have sent to bid Cassio come speak with you.
- OTHELLO. I have a salt and sorry rheum offends me;
- Lend me thy handkerchief.
- DESDEMONA. Here, my lord.
- OTHELLO. That which I gave you.
- DESDEMONA. I have it not about me.
- OTHELLO. Not?
- DESDEMONA. No, faith, my lord.
- OTHELLO. That's a fault. That handkerchief
- Did an Egyptian to my mother give;
- She was a charmer, and could almost read
- The thoughts of people. She told her, while she kept it,
- 'Twould make her amiable and subdue my father
- Entirely to her love, but if she lost it
- Or made a gift of it, my father's eye
- Should hold her loathed and his spirits should hunt
- After new fancies. She dying gave it me,
- And bid me, when my fate would have me wive,
- To give it her. I did so, and take heed on't;
- Make it a darling like your precious eye;
- To lose't or give't away were such perdition
- As nothing else could match.
- DESDEMONA. Is't possible?
- OTHELLO. 'Tis true; there's magic in the web of it.
- A sibyl, that had number'd in the world
- The sun to course two hundred compasses,
- In her prophetic fury sew'd the work;
- The worms were hallow'd that did breed the silk,
- And it was dyed in mummy which the skillful
- Conserved of maiden's hearts.
- DESDEMONA. Indeed! is't true?
- OTHELLO. Most veritable; therefore look to't well.
- DESDEMONA. Then would to God that I had never seen't!
- OTHELLO. Ha! wherefore?
- DESDEMONA. Why do you speak so startingly and rash?
- OTHELLO. Is't lost? is't gone? speak, is it out o' the way?
- DESDEMONA. Heaven bless us!
- OTHELLO. Say you?
- DESDEMONA. It is not lost; but what an if it were?
- OTHELLO. How?
- DESDEMONA. I say, it is not lost.
- OTHELLO. Fetch't, let me see it.
- DESDEMONA. Why, so I can, sir, but I will not now.
- This is a trick to put me from my suit.
- Pray you, let Cassio be received again.
- OTHELLO. Fetch me the handkerchief, my mind misgives.
- DESDEMONA. Come, come,
- You'll never meet a more sufficient man.
- OTHELLO. The handkerchief!
- DESDEMONA. I pray, talk me of Cassio.
- OTHELLO. The handkerchief!
- DESDEMONA. A man that all his time
- Hath founded his good fortunes on your love,
- Shared dangers with you-
- OTHELLO. The handkerchief!
- DESDEMONA. In sooth, you are to blame.
- OTHELLO. Away! Exit.
- EMILIA. Is not this man jealous?
- DESDEMONA. I ne'er saw this before.
- Sure there's some wonder in this handkerchief;
- I am most unhappy in the loss of it.
- EMILIA. 'Tis not a year or two shows us a man.
- They are all but stomachs and we all but food;
- They eat us hungerly, and when they are full
- They belch us. Look you! Cassio and my husband.
-
- Enter Cassio and Iago.
-
- IAGO. There is no other way; 'tis she must do't.
- And, lo, the happiness! Go and importune her.
- DESDEMONA. How now, good Cassio! What's the news with you?
- CASSIO. Madam, my former suit: I do beseech you
- That by your virtuous means I may again
- Exist and be a member of his love
- Whom I with all the office of my heart
- Entirely honor. I would not be delay'd.
- If my offense be of such mortal kind
- That nor my service past nor present sorrows
- Nor purposed merit in futurity
- Can ransom me into his love again,
- But to know so must be my benefit;
- So shall I clothe me in a forced content
- And shut myself up in some other course
- To Fortune's alms.
- DESDEMONA. Alas, thrice-gentle Cassio!
- My advocation is not now in tune;
- My lord is not my lord, nor should I know him
- Were he in favor as in humor alter'd.
- So help me every spirit sanctified,
- As I have spoken for you all my best
- And stood within the blank of his displeasure
- For my free speech! You must awhile be patient.
- What I can do I will; and more I will
- Than for myself I dare. Let that suffice you.
- IAGO. Is my lord angry?
- EMILIA. He went hence but now,
- And certainly in strange unquietness.
- IAGO. Can he be angry? I have seen the cannon,
- When it hath blown his ranks into the air
- And, like the devil, from his very arm
- Puff'd his own brother. And can he be angry?
- Something of moment then. I will go meet him.
- There's matter in't indeed if he be angry.
- DESDEMONA. I prithee, do so. Exit Iago.
- Something sure of state,
- Either from Venice or some unhatch'd practice
- Made demonstrable here in Cyprus to him,
- Hath puddled his clear spirit; and in such cases
- Men's natures wrangle with inferior things,
- Though great ones are their object. 'Tis even so;
- For let our finger ache, and it indues
- Our other healthful members even to that sense
- Of pain. Nay, we must think men are not gods,
- Nor of them look for such observancy
- As fits the bridal. Beshrew me much, Emilia,
- I was, unhandsome warrior as I am,
- Arraigning his unkindness with my soul;
- But now I find I had suborn'd the witness,
- And he's indicted falsely.
- EMILIA. Pray heaven it be state matters, as you think,
- And no conception nor no jealous toy
- Concerning you.
- DESDEMONA. Alas the day, I never gave him cause!
- EMILIA. But jealous souls will not be answer'd so;
- They are not ever jealous for the cause,
- But jealous for they are jealous. 'Tis a monster
- Begot upon itself, born on itself.
- DESDEMONA. Heaven keep that monster from Othello's mind!
- EMILIA. Lady, amen.
- DESDEMONA. I will go seek him. Cassio, walk hereabout.
- If I do find him fit, I'll move your suit,
- And seek to effect it to my uttermost.
- CASSIO. I humbly thank your ladyship.
- Exeunt Desdemona and Emilia.
-
- Enter Bianca.
-
- BIANCA. Save you, friend Cassio!
- CASSIO. What make you from home?
- How is it with you, my most fair Bianca?
- I'faith, sweet love, I was coming to your house.
- BIANCA. And I was going to your lodging, Cassio.
- What, keep a week away? seven days and nights?
- Eight score eight hours? and lovers' absent hours,
- More tedious than the dial eight score times?
- O weary reckoning!
- CASSIO. Pardon me, Bianca.
- I have this while with leaden thoughts been press'd;
- But I shall in a more continuate time
- Strike off this score of absence. Sweet Bianca,
- Gives her Desdemona's handkerchief.
- Take me this work out.
- BIANCA. O Cassio, whence came this?
- This is some token from a newer friend.
- To the felt absence now I feel a cause.
- Is't come to this? Well, well.
- CASSIO. Go to, woman!
- Throw your vile guesses in the devil's teeth,
- From whence you have them. You are jealous now
- That this is from some mistress, some remembrance.
- No, by my faith, Bianca.
- BIANCA. Why, whose is it?
- CASSIO. I know not, sweet. I found it in my chamber.
- I like the work well. Ere it be demanded-
- As like enough it will- I'ld have it copied.
- Take it, and do't; and leave me for this time.
- BIANCA. Leave you! wherefore?
- CASSIO. I do attend here on the general;
- And think it no addition, nor my wish,
- To have him see me woman'd.
- BIANCA. Why, I pray you?
- CASSIO. Not that I love you not.
- BIANCA. But that you do not love me.
- I pray you, bring me on the way a little,
- And say if I shall see you soon at night.
- CASSIO. 'Tis but a little way that I can bring you,
- For I attend here, but I'll see you soon.
- BIANCA. 'Tis very good; I must be circumstanced. Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
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-
-ACT IV. SCENE I.
-Cyprus. Before the castle.
-
-Enter Othello and Iago.
-
- IAGO. Will you think so?
- OTHELLO. Think so, Iago?
- IAGO. What,
- To kiss in private?
- OTHELLO. An unauthorized kiss.
- IAGO. Or to be naked with her friend in bed
- An hour or more, not meaning any harm?
- OTHELLO. Naked in bed, Iago, and not mean harm!
- It is hypocrisy against the devil.
- They that mean virtuously and yet do so,
- The devil their virtue tempts and they tempt heaven.
- IAGO. So they do nothing, 'tis a venial slip.
- But if I give my wife a handkerchief-
- OTHELLO. What then?
- IAGO. Why, then, 'tis hers, my lord, and being hers,
- She may, I think, bestow't on any man.
- OTHELLO. She is protectress of her honor too.
- May she give that?
- IAGO. Her honor is an essence that's not seen;
- They have it very oft that have it not.
- But for the handkerchief-
- OTHELLO. By heaven, I would most gladly have forgot it.
- Thou said'st- O, it comes o'er my memory,
- As doth the raven o'er the infected house,
- Boding to all- he had my handkerchief.
- IAGO. Ay, what of that?
- OTHELLO. That's not so good now.
- IAGO. What,
- If I had said I had seen him do you wrong?
- Or heard him say- as knaves be such abroad,
- Who having, by their own importunate suit,
- Or voluntary dotage of some mistress,
- Convinced or supplied them, cannot choose
- But they must blab-
- OTHELLO. Hath he said anything?
- IAGO. He hath, my lord; but be you well assured,
- No more than he'll unswear.
- OTHELLO. What hath he said?
- IAGO. Faith, that he did- I know not what he did.
- OTHELLO. What? what?
- IAGO. Lie-
- OTHELLO. With her?
- IAGO. With her, on her, what you will.
- OTHELLO. Lie with her! lie on her! We say lie on her, when they
- belie her. Lie with her! 'Zounds, that's fulsome! Handkerchief-
- confessions- handkerchief! To confess and be hanged for his labor-
- first, to be hanged, and then to confess. I tremble at it.
- Nature would not invest herself in such shadowing passion without
- some instruction. It is not words that shakes me thus. Pish!
- Noses, ears, and lips. Is't possible? Confess? Handkerchief? O
- devil!
- Falls in a trance.
- IAGO. Work on,
- My medicine, work! Thus credulous fools are caught,
- And many worthy and chaste dames even thus,
- All guiltless, meet reproach. What, ho! My lord!
- My lord, I say! Othello!
-
- Enter Cassio.
-
- How now, Cassio!
- CASSIO. What's the matter?
- IAGO. My lord is fall'n into an epilepsy.
- This is his second fit; he had one yesterday.
- CASSIO. Rub him about the temples.
- IAGO. No, forbear;
- The lethargy must have his quiet course.
- If not, he foams at mouth, and by and by
- Breaks out to savage madness. Look, he stirs.
- Do you withdraw yourself a little while,
- He will recover straight. When he is gone,
- I would on great occasion speak with you. Exit Cassio.
- How is it, general? Have you not hurt your head?
- OTHELLO. Dost thou mock me?
- IAGO. I mock you? No, by heaven.
- Would you would bear your fortune like a man!
- OTHELLO. A horned man's a monster and a beast.
- IAGO. There's many a beast then in a populous city,
- And many a civil monster.
- OTHELLO. Did he confess it?
- IAGO. Good sir, be a man;
- Think every bearded fellow that's but yoked
- May draw with you. There's millions now alive
- That nightly lie in those unproper beds
- Which they dare swear peculiar. Your case is better.
- O, 'tis the spite of hell, the fiend's arch-mock,
- To lip a wanton in a secure couch,
- And to suppose her chaste! No, let me know,
- And knowing what I am, I know what she shall be.
- OTHELLO. O, thou art wise; 'tis certain.
- IAGO. Stand you awhile apart,
- Confine yourself but in a patient list.
- Whilst you were here o'erwhelmed with your grief-
- A passion most unsuiting such a man-
- Cassio came hither. I shifted him away,
- And laid good 'scuse upon your ecstasy;
- Bade him anon return and here speak with me
- The which he promised. Do but encave yourself
- And mark the fleers, the gibes, and notable scorns,
- That dwell in every region of his face;
- For I will make him tell the tale anew,
- Where, how, how oft, how long ago, and when
- He hath and is again to cope your wife.
- I say, but mark his gesture. Marry, patience,
- Or I shall say you are all in all in spleen,
- And nothing of a man.
- OTHELLO. Dost thou hear, Iago?
- I will be found most cunning in my patience;
- But (dost thou hear?) most bloody.
- IAGO. That's not amiss;
- But yet keep time in all. Will you withdraw?
- Othello retires.
- Now will I question Cassio of Bianca,
- A housewife that by selling her desires
- Buys herself bread and clothes. It is a creature
- That dotes on Cassio, as 'tis the strumpet's plague
- To beguile many and be beguiled by one.
- He, when he hears of her, cannot refrain
- From the excess of laughter. Here he comes.
-
- Re-enter Cassio.
-
- As he shall smile, Othello shall go mad;
- And his unbookish jealousy must construe
- Poor Cassio's smiles, gestures, and light behavior
- Quite in the wrong. How do you now, lieutenant?
- CASSIO. The worser that you give me the addition
- Whose want even kills me.
- IAGO. Ply Desdemona well, and you are sure on't.
- Now, if this suit lay in Bianco's power,
- How quickly should you speed!
- CASSIO. Alas, poor caitiff!
- OTHELLO. Look, how he laughs already!
- IAGO. I never knew a woman love man so.
- CASSIO. Alas, poor rogue! I think, i'faith, she loves me.
- OTHELLO. Now he denies it faintly and laughs it out.
- IAGO. Do you hear, Cassio?
- OTHELLO. Now he importunes him
- To tell it o'er. Go to; well said, well said.
- IAGO. She gives it out that you shall marry her.
- Do you intend it?
- CASSIO. Ha, ha, ha!
- OTHELLO. Do you triumph, Roman? Do you triumph?
- CASSIO. I marry her! What? A customer! I prithee, bear some charity
- to my wit; do not think it so unwholesome. Ha, ha, ha!
- OTHELLO. So, so, so, so. They laugh that win.
- IAGO. Faith, the cry goes that you shall marry her.
- CASSIO. Prithee, say true.
- IAGO. I am a very villain else.
- OTHELLO. Have you scored me? Well.
- CASSIO. This is the monkey's own giving out. She is persuaded I
- will marry her, out of her own love and flattery, not out of my
- promise.
- OTHELLO. Iago beckons me; now he begins the story.
- CASSIO. She was here even now; she haunts me in every place. I was
- the other day talking on the sea bank with certain Venetians, and
- thither comes the bauble, and, by this hand, she falls me thus
- about my neck-
- OTHELLO. Crying, "O dear Cassio!" as it were; his gesture imports
- it.
- CASSIO. So hangs and lolls and weeps upon me; so hales and pulls
- me. Ha, ha, ha!
- OTHELLO. Now he tells how she plucked him to my chamber. O, I see
- that nose of yours, but not that dog I shall throw it to.
- CASSIO. Well, I must leave her company.
- IAGO. Before me! look where she comes.
- CASSIO. 'Tis such another fitchew! marry, a perfumed one.
-
- Enter Bianca.
-
- What do you mean by this haunting of me?
- BIANCA. Let the devil and his dam haunt you! What did you mean by
- that same handkerchief you gave me even now? I was a fine fool to
- take it. I must take out the work? A likely piece of work that
- you should find it in your chamber and not know who left it
- there! This is some minx's token, and I must take out the work?
- There, give it your hobbyhorse. Wheresoever you had it, I'll take
- out no work on't.
- CASSIO. How now, my sweet Bianca! how now! how now!
- OTHELLO. By heaven, that should be my handkerchief!
- BIANCA. An you'll come to supper tonight, you may; an you will not,
- come when you are next prepared for. Exit.
- IAGO. After her, after her.
- CASSIO. Faith, I must; she'll rail i' the street else.
- IAGO. Will you sup there?
- CASSIO. Faith, I intend so.
- IAGO. Well, I may chance to see you, for I would very fain speak
- with you.
- CASSIO. Prithee, come; will you?
- IAGO. Go to; say no more. Exit Cassio.
- OTHELLO. [Advancing.] How shall I murther him, Iago?
- IAGO. Did you perceive how he laughed at his vice?
- OTHELLO. O Iago!
- IAGO. And did you see the handkerchief?
- OTHELLO. Was that mine?
- IAGO. Yours, by this hand. And to see how he prizes the foolish
- woman your wife! She gave it him, and he hath given it his whore.
- OTHELLO. I would have him nine years akilling. A fine woman! a fair
- woman! a sweet woman!
- IAGO. Nay, you must forget that.
- OTHELLO. Ay, let her rot, and perish, and be damned tonight, for
- she shall not live. No, my heart is turned to stone; I strike it,
- and it hurts my hand. O, the world hath not a sweeter creature.
- She might lie by an emperor's side, and command him tasks.
- IAGO. Nay, that's not your way.
- OTHELLO. Hang her! I do but say what she is. So delicate with her
- needle, an admirable musician. O, she will sing the savageness
- out of a bear. Of so high and plenteous wit and invention-
- IAGO. She's the worse for all this.
- OTHELLO. O, a thousand, a thousand times. And then, of so gentle a
- condition!
- IAGO. Ay, too gentle.
- OTHELLO. Nay, that's certain. But yet the pity of it, Iago!
- O Iago, the pity of it, Iago!
- IAGO. If you are so fond over her iniquity, give her patent to
- offend, for, if it touch not you, it comes near nobody.
- OTHELLO. I will chop her into messes. Cuckold me!
- IAGO. O, 'tis foul in her.
- OTHELLO. With mine officer!
- IAGO. That's fouler.
- OTHELLO. Get me some poison, Iago, this night. I'll not expostulate
- with her, lest her body and beauty unprovide my mind again. This
- night, Iago.
- IAGO. Do it not with poison, strangle her in her bed, even the bed
- she hath contaminated.
- OTHELLO. Good, good, the justice of it pleases, very good.
- IAGO. And for Cassio, let me be his undertaker. You shall hear more
- by midnight.
- OTHELLO. Excellent good. [A trumpet within.] What trumpet is that
- same?
- IAGO. Something from Venice, sure. 'Tis Lodovico
- Come from the Duke. And, see your wife is with him.
-
- Enter Lodovico, Desdemona, and Attendants.
-
- LODOVICO. God save the worthy general!
- OTHELLO. With all my heart, sir.
- LODOVICO. The Duke and Senators of Venice greet you.
- Gives him a letter.
- OTHELLO. I kiss the instrument of their pleasures.
- Opens the letter, and reads.
- DESDEMONA. And what's the news, good cousin Lodovico?
- IAGO. I am very glad to see you, signior;
- Welcome to Cyprus.
- LODOVICO. I thank you. How does Lieutenant Cassio?
- IAGO. Lives, sir.
- DESDEMONA. Cousin, there's fall'n between him and my lord
- An unkind breech; but you shall make all well.
- OTHELLO. Are you sure of that?
- DESDEMONA. My lord?
- OTHELLO. [Reads.] "This fail you not to do, as you will-"
- LODOVICO. He did not call; he's busy in the paper.
- Is there division 'twixt my lord and Cassio?
- DESDEMONA. A most unhappy one. I would do much
- To atone them, for the love I bear to Cassio.
- OTHELLO. Fire and brimstone!
- DESDEMONA. My lord?
- OTHELLO. Are you wise?
- DESDEMONA. What, is he angry?
- LODOVICO. May be the letter moved him;
- For, as I think, they do command him home,
- Deputing Cassio in his government.
- DESDEMONA. By my troth, I am glad on't.
- OTHELLO. Indeed!
- DESDEMONA. My lord?
- OTHELLO. I am glad to see you mad.
- DESDEMONA. Why, sweet Othello?
- OTHELLO. Devil! Strikes her.
- DESDEMONA. I have not deserved this.
- LODOVICO. My lord, this would not be believed in Venice,
- Though I should swear I saw't. 'Tis very much.
- Make her amends; she weeps.
- OTHELLO. O devil, devil!
- If that the earth could teem with woman's tears,
- Each drop she falls would prove a crocodile.
- Out of my sight!
- DESDEMONA. [Going.] I will not stay to offend you.
- LODOVICO. Truly, an obedient lady.
- I do beseech your lordship, call her back.
- OTHELLO. Mistress!
- DESDEMONA. My lord?
- OTHELLO. What would you with her, sir?
- LODOVICO. Who, I, my lord?
- OTHELLO. Ay, you did wish that I would make her turn.
- Sir, she can turn and turn, and yet go on,
- And turn again; and she can weep, sir, weep;
- And she's obedient, as you say, obedient,
- Very obedient. Proceed you in your tears.
- Concerning this, sir- O well-painted passion!-
- I am commanded home. Get you away;
- I'll send for you anon. Sir, I obey the mandate,
- And will return to Venice. Hence, avaunt!
- Exit Desdemona.
- Cassio shall have my place. And, sir, tonight,
- I do entreat that we may sup together.
- You are welcome, sir, to Cyprus. Goats and monkeys!
- Exit.
- LODOVICO. Is this the noble Moor whom our full Senate
- Call all in all sufficient? This the nature
- Whom passion could not shake? whose solid virtue
- The shot of accident nor dart of chance
- Could neither graze nor pierce?
- IAGO. He is much changed.
- LODOVICO. Are his wits safe? Is he not light of brain?
- IAGO. He's that he is. I may not breathe my censure
- What he might be: if what he might he is not,
- I would to heaven he were!
- LODOVICO. What, strike his wife!
- IAGO. Faith, that was not so well; yet would I knew
- That stroke would prove the worst!
- LODOVICO. Is it his use?
- Or did the letters work upon his blood,
- And new create this fault?
- IAGO. Alas, alas!
- It is not honesty in me to speak
- What I have seen and known. You shall observe him,
- And his own courses will denote him so
- That I may save my speech. Do but go after,
- And mark how he continues.
- LODOVICO. I am sorry that I am deceived in him. Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-A room in the castle.
-
-Enter Othello and Emilia.
-
- OTHELLO. You have seen nothing, then?
- EMILIA. Nor ever heard, nor ever did suspect.
- OTHELLO. Yes, you have seen Cassio and she together.
- EMILIA. But then I saw no harm, and then I heard
- Each syllable that breath made up between them.
- OTHELLO. What, did they never whisper?
- EMILIA. Never, my lord.
- OTHELLO. Nor send you out o' the way?
- EMILIA. Never.
- OTHELLO. To fetch her fan, her gloves, her mask, nor nothing?
- EMILIA. Never, my lord.
- OTHELLO. That's strange.
- EMILIA. I durst, my lord, to wager she is honest,
- Lay down my soul at stake. If you think other,
- Remove your thought; it doth abuse your bosom.
- If any wretch have put this in your head,
- Let heaven requite it with the serpent's curse!
- For if she be not honest, chaste, and true,
- There's no man happy; the purest of their wives
- Is foul as slander.
- OTHELLO. Bid her come hither; go. Exit Emilia.
- She says enough; yet she's a simple bawd
- That cannot say as much. This is a subtle whore,
- A closet lock and key of villainous secrets.
- And yet she'll kneel and pray; I have seen her do't.
-
- Enter Desdemona with Emilia.
-
- DESDEMONA. My lord, what is your will?
- OTHELLO. Pray, chuck, come hither.
- DESDEMONA. What is your pleasure?
- OTHELLO. Let me see your eyes;
- Look in my face.
- DESDEMONA. What horrible fancy's this?
- OTHELLO. [To Emilia.] Some of your function, mistress,
- Leave procreants alone and shut the door;
- Cough, or cry "hem," if anybody come.
- Your mystery, your mystery; nay, dispatch. Exit Emilia.
- DESDEMONA. Upon my knees, what doth your speech import?
- I understand a fury in your words,
- But not the words.
- OTHELLO. Why, what art thou?
- DESDEMONA. Your wife, my lord, your true and loyal wife.
- OTHELLO. Come, swear it, damn thyself;
- Lest, being like one of heaven, the devils themselves
- Should fear to seize thee. Therefore be double-damn'd;
- Swear thou art honest.
- DESDEMONA. Heaven doth truly know it.
- OTHELLO. Heaven truly knows that thou art false as hell.
- DESDEMONA. To whom, my lord? with whom? how am I false?
- OTHELLO. O Desdemona! Away! away! away!
- DESDEMONA. Alas the heavy day! Why do you weep?
- Am I the motive of these tears, my lord?
- If haply you my father do suspect
- An instrument of this your calling back,
- Lay not your blame on me. If you have lost him,
- Why, I have lost him too.
- OTHELLO. Had it pleased heaven
- To try me with affliction, had they rain'd
- All kinds of sores and shames on my bare head,
- Steep'd me in poverty to the very lips,
- Given to captivity me and my utmost hopes,
- I should have found in some place of my soul
- A drop of patience; but, alas, to make me
- A fixed figure for the time of scorn
- To point his slow unmoving finger at!
- Yet could I bear that too, well, very well;
- But there, where I have garner'd up my heart,
- Where either I must live or bear no life;
- The fountain from the which my current runs,
- Or else dries up; to be discarded thence!
- Or keep it as a cistern for foul toads
- To knot and gender in! Turn thy complexion there,
- Patience, thou young and rose-lipp'd cherubin,
- Ay, there, look grim as hell!
- DESDEMONA. I hope my noble lord esteems me honest.
- OTHELLO. O, ay, as summer flies are in the shambles,
- That quicken even with blowing. O thou weed,
- Who art so lovely fair and smell'st so sweet
- That the sense aches at thee, would thou hadst ne'er been born!
- DESDEMONA. Alas, what ignorant sin have I committed?
- OTHELLO. Was this fair paper, this most goodly book,
- Made to write "whore" upon? What committed?
- Committed? O thou public commoner!
- I should make very forges of my cheeks,
- That would to cinders burn up modesty,
- Did I but speak thy deeds. What committed!
- Heaven stops the nose at it, and the moon winks;
- The bawdy wind, that kisses all it meets,
- Is hush'd within the hollow mine of earth,
- And will not hear it. What committed?
- Impudent strumpet!
- DESDEMONA. By heaven, you do me wrong.
- OTHELLO. Are not you a strumpet?
- DESDEMONA. No, as I am a Christian.
- If to preserve this vessel for my lord
- From any other foul unlawful touch
- Be not to be a strumpet, I am none.
- OTHELLO. What, not a whore?
- DESDEMONA. No, as I shall be saved.
- OTHELLO. Is't possible?
- DESDEMONA. O, heaven forgive us!
- OTHELLO. I cry you mercy then;
- I took you for that cunning whore of Venice
- That married with Othello. [Raises his voice.] You, mistress,
- That have the office opposite to Saint Peter,
- And keep the gate of hell!
-
- Re-enter Emilia.
-
- You, you, ay, you!
- We have done our course; there's money for your pains.
- I pray you, turn the key, and keep our counsel. Exit.
- EMILIA. Alas, what does this gentleman conceive?
- How do you, madam? How do you, my good lady?
- DESDEMONA. Faith, half asleep.
- EMILIA. Good madam, what's the matter with my lord?
- DESDEMONA. With who?
- EMILIA. Why, with my lord, madam.
- DESDEMONA. Who is thy lord?
- EMILIA. He that is yours, sweet lady.
- DESDEMONA. I have none. Do not talk to me, Emilia;
- I cannot weep, nor answer have I none
- But what should go by water. Prithee, tonight
- Lay on my bed my wedding sheets. Remember,
- And call thy husband hither.
- EMILIA. Here's a change indeed!
- Exit.
- DESDEMONA. 'Tis meet I should be used so, very meet.
- How have I been behaved, that he might stick
- The small'st opinion on my least misuse?
-
- Re-enter Emilia with Iago.
-
- IAGO. What is your pleasure, madam? How is't with you?
- DESDEMONA. I cannot tell. Those that do teach young babes
- Do it with gentle means and easy tasks.
- He might have chid me so, for in good faith,
- I am a child to chiding.
- IAGO. What's the matter, lady?
- EMILIA. Alas, Iago, my lord hath so bewhored her,
- Thrown such despite and heavy terms upon her,
- As true hearts cannot bear.
- DESDEMONA. Am I that name, Iago?
- IAGO. What name, fair lady?
- DESDEMONA. Such as she says my lord did say I was.
- EMILIA. He call'd her whore; a beggar in his drink
- Could not have laid such terms upon his callet.
- IAGO. Why did he so?
- DESDEMONA. I do not know; I am sure I am none such.
- IAGO. Do not weep, do not weep. Alas the day!
- EMILIA. Hath she forsook so many noble matches,
- Her father and her country and her friends,
- To be call'd whore? Would it not make one weep?
- DESDEMONA. It is my wretched fortune.
- IAGO. Beshrew him for't!
- How comes this trick upon him?
- DESDEMONA. Nay, heaven doth know.
- EMILIA. I will be hang'd, if some eternal villain,
- Some busy and insinuating rogue,
- Some cogging, cozening slave, to get some office,
- Have not devised this slander; I'll be hang'd else.
- IAGO. Fie, there is no such man; it is impossible.
- DESDEMONA. If any such there be, heaven pardon him!
- EMILIA. A halter pardon him! And hell gnaw his bones!
- Why should he call her whore? Who keeps her company?
- What place? What time? What form? What likelihood?
- The Moor's abused by some most villainous knave,
- Some base notorious knave, some scurvy fellow.
- O heaven, that such companions thou'ldst unfold,
- And put in every honest hand a whip
- To lash the rascals naked through the world
- Even from the east to the west!
- IAGO. Speak within door.
- EMILIA. O, fie upon them! Some such squire he was
- That turn'd your wit the seamy side without,
- And made you to suspect me with the Moor.
- IAGO. You are a fool; go to.
- DESDEMONA. O good Iago,
- What shall I do to win my lord again?
- Good friend, go to him, for by this light of heaven,
- I know not how I lost him. Here I kneel:
- If e'er my will did trespass 'gainst his love
- Either in discourse of thought or actual deed,
- Or that mine eyes, mine ears, or any sense,
- Delighted them in any other form,
- Or that I do not yet, and ever did,
- And ever will, though he do shake me off
- To beggarly divorcement, love him dearly,
- Comfort forswear me! Unkindness may do much,
- And his unkindness may defeat my life,
- But never taint my love. I cannot say "whore."
- It doth abhor me now I speak the word;
- To do the act that might the addition earn
- Not the world's mass of vanity could make me.
- IAGO. I pray you, be content; 'tis but his humor:
- The business of the state does him offense,
- And he does chide with you.
- DESDEMONA. If 'twere no other-
- IAGO. 'Tis but so, I warrant. Trumpets within.
- Hark, how these instruments summon to supper!
- The messengers of Venice stay the meat.
- Go in, and weep not; all things shall be well.
- Exeunt Desdemona and Emilia.
-
- Enter Roderigo.
-
- How now, Roderigo!
- RODERIGO. I do not find that thou dealest justly with me.
- IAGO. What in the contrary?
- RODERIGO. Every day thou daffest me with some device, Iago; and
- rather, as it seems to me now, keepest from me all conveniency
- than suppliest me with the least advantage of hope. I will indeed
- no longer endure it; nor am I yet persuaded to put up in peace
- what already I have foolishly suffered.
- IAGO. Will you hear me, Roderigo?
- RODERIGO. Faith, I have heard too much, for your words and
- performances are no kin together.
- IAGO. You charge me most unjustly.
- RODERIGO. With nought but truth. I have wasted myself out of my
- means. The jewels you have had from me to deliver to Desdemona
- would half have corrupted a votarist. You have told me she hath
- received them and returned me expectations and comforts of sudden
- respect and acquaintance; but I find none.
- IAGO. Well, go to, very well.
- RODERIGO. Very well! go to! I cannot go to, man; nor 'tis not very
- well. By this hand, I say 'tis very scurvy, and begin to find
- myself fopped in it.
- IAGO. Very well.
- RODERIGO. I tell you 'tis not very well. I will make myself known
- to Desdemona. If she will return me my jewels, I will give over
- my suit and repent my unlawful solicitation; if not, assure
- yourself I will seek satisfaction of you.
- IAGO. You have said now.
- RODERIGO. Ay, and said nothing but what I protest intendment of
- doing.
- IAGO. Why, now I see there's mettle in thee; and even from this
- instant do build on thee a better opinion than ever before. Give
- me thy hand, Roderigo. Thou hast taken against me a most just
- exception; but yet, I protest, have dealt most directly in thy
- affair.
- RODERIGO. It hath not appeared.
- IAGO. I grant indeed it hath not appeared, and your suspicion is
- not without wit and judgement. But, Roderigo, if thou hast that
- in thee indeed, which I have greater reason to believe now than
- ever, I mean purpose, courage, and valor, this night show it; if
- thou the next night following enjoy not Desdemona, take me from
- this world with treachery and devise engines for my life.
- RODERIGO. Well, what is it? Is it within reason and compass?
- IAGO. Sir, there is especial commission come from Venice to depute
- Cassio in Othello's place.
- RODERIGO. Is that true? Why then Othello and Desdemona return again
- to Venice.
- IAGO. O, no; he goes into Mauritania, and takes away with him the
- fair Desdemona, unless his abode be lingered here by some
- accident; wherein none can be so determinate as the removing of
- Cassio.
- RODERIGO. How do you mean, removing of him?
- IAGO. Why, by making him uncapable of Othello's place; knocking out
- his brains.
- RODERIGO. And that you would have me to do?
- IAGO. Ay, if you dare do yourself a profit and a right. He sups
- tonight with a harlotry, and thither will I go to him. He knows
- not yet of his honorable fortune. If you will watch his going
- thence, which his will fashion to fall out between twelve and
- one, you may take him at your pleasure; I will be near to second
- your attempt, and he shall fall between us. Come, stand not
- amazed at it, but go along with me; I will show you such a
- necessity in his death that you shall think yourself bound to put
- it on him. It is now high supper-time, and the night grows to
- waste. About it.
- RODERIGO. I will hear further reason for this.
- IAGO. And you shall be satisfied. Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-Another room in the castle.
-
-Enter Othello, Lodovico, Desdemona, Emilia, and Attendants.
-
- LODOVICO. I do beseech you, sir, trouble yourself no further.
- OTHELLO. O, pardon me; 'twill do me good to walk.
- LODOVICO. Madam, good night; I humbly thank your ladyship.
- DESDEMONA. Your honor is most welcome.
- OTHELLO. Will you walk, sir?
- O- Desdemona-
- DESDEMONA. My lord?
- OTHELLO. Get you to bed on the instant; I will be returned
- forthwith. Dismiss your attendant there; look it be done.
- DESDEMONA. I will, my lord.
- Exeunt Othello, Lodovico, and Attendants.
- EMILIA. How goes it now? He looks gentler than he did.
- DESDEMONA. He says he will return incontinent.
- He hath commanded me to go to bed,
- And bade me to dismiss you.
- EMILIA. Dismiss me?
- DESDEMONA. It was his bidding; therefore, good Emilia,
- Give me my nightly wearing, and adieu.
- We must not now displease him.
- EMILIA. I would you had never seen him!
- DESDEMONA. So would not I. My love doth so approve him,
- That even his stubbornness, his checks, his frowns-
- Prithee, unpin me- have grace and favor in them.
- EMILIA. I have laid those sheets you bade me on the bed.
- DESDEMONA. All's one. Good faith, how foolish are our minds!
- If I do die before thee, prithee shroud me
- In one of those same sheets.
- EMILIA. Come, come, you talk.
- DESDEMONA. My mother had a maid call'd Barbary;
- She was in love, and he she loved proved mad
- And did forsake her. She had a song of "willow";
- An old thing 'twas, but it express'd her fortune,
- And she died singing it. That song tonight
- Will not go from my mind; I have much to do
- But to go hang my head all at one side
- And sing it like poor Barbary. Prithee, dispatch.
- EMILIA. Shall I go fetch your nightgown?
- DESDEMONA. No, unpin me here.
- This Lodovico is a proper man.
- EMILIA. A very handsome man.
- DESDEMONA. He speaks well.
- EMILIA. I know a lady in Venice would have walked barefoot to
- Palestine for a touch of his nether lip.
- DESDEMONA. [Sings.]
-
- "The poor soul sat sighing by a sycamore tree,
- Sing all a green willow;
- Her hand on her bosom, her head on her knee,
- Sing willow, willow, willow.
- The fresh streams ran by her, and murmur'd her moans,
- Sing willow, willow, willow;
- Her salt tears fell from her, and soften'd the stones-"
-
- Lay be these-
-
- [Sings.] "Sing willow, willow, willow-"
-
- Prithee, hie thee; he'll come anon-
- [Sings.] "Sing all a green willow must be my garland.
- Let nobody blame him; his scorn I approve-"
-
- Nay, that's not next. Hark, who is't that knocks?
- EMILIA. It's the wind.
- DESDEMONA. [Sings.]
-
- "I call'd my love false love; but what said he then?
- Sing willow, willow, willow.
- If I court moe women, you'll couch with moe men-"
-
- So get thee gone; good night. Mine eyes do itch;
- Doth that bode weeping?
- EMILIA. 'Tis neither here nor there.
- DESDEMONA. I have heard it said so. O, these men, these men!
- Dost thou in conscience think- tell me, Emilia-
- That there be women do abuse their husbands
- In such gross kind?
- EMILIA. There be some such, no question.
- DESDEMONA. Wouldst thou do such a deed for all the world?
- EMILIA. Why, would not you?
- DESDEMONA. No, by this heavenly light!
- EMILIA. Nor I neither by this heavenly light; I might do't as well
- i' the dark.
- DESDEMONA. Wouldst thou do such a deed for all the world?
- EMILIA. The world's a huge thing; it is a great price
- For a small vice.
- DESDEMONA. In troth, I think thou wouldst not.
- EMILIA. In troth, I think I should, and undo't when I had done.
- Marry, I would not do such a thing for a joint-ring, nor for
- measures of lawn, nor for gowns, petticoats, nor caps, nor any
- petty exhibition; but, for the whole world- why, who would not
- make her husband a cuckold to make him a monarch? I should
- venture purgatory for't.
- DESDEMONA. Beshrew me, if I would do such a wrong
- For the whole world.
- EMILIA. Why, the wrong is but a wrong i' the world; and having the
- world for your labor, 'tis a wrong in your own world, and you
- might quickly make it right.
- DESDEMONA. I do not think there is any such woman.
- EMILIA. Yes, a dozen, and as many to the vantage as would store the
- world they played for.
- But I do think it is their husbands' faults
- If wives do fall; say that they slack their duties
- And pour our treasures into foreign laps,
- Or else break out in peevish jealousies,
- Throwing restraint upon us, or say they strike us,
- Or scant our former having in despite,
- Why, we have galls, and though we have some grace,
- Yet have we some revenge. Let husbands know
- Their wives have sense like them; they see and smell
- And have their palates both for sweet and sour,
- As husbands have. What is it that they do
- When they change us for others? Is it sport?
- I think it is. And doth affection breed it?
- I think it doth. Is't frailty that thus errs?
- It is so too. And have not we affections,
- Desires for sport, and frailty, as men have?
- Then let them use us well; else let them know,
- The ills we do, their ills instruct us so.
- DESDEMONA. Good night, good night. Heaven me such uses send,
- Not to pick bad from bad, but by bad mend! Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT V. SCENE I.
-Cyprus. A street.
-
-Enter Iago and Roderigo:
-
- IAGO. Here, stand behind this bulk; straight will he come.
- Wear thy good rapier bare, and put it home.
- Quick, quick; fear nothing; I'll be at thy elbow.
- It makes us, or it mars us; think on that,
- And fix most firm thy resolution.
- RODERIGO. Be near at hand; I may miscarry in't.
- IAGO. Here, at thy hand, be bold, and take thy stand.
- Retires.
- RODERIGO. I have no great devotion to the deed;
- And yet he hath given me satisfying reasons.
- 'Tis but a man gone. Forth, my sword; he dies.
- IAGO. I have rubb'd this young quat almost to the sense,
- And he grows angry. Now, whether he kill Cassio,
- Or Cassio him, or each do kill the other,
- Every way makes my gain. Live Roderigo,
- He calls me to a restitution large
- Of gold and jewels that I bobb'd from him,
- As gifts to Desdemona;
- It must not be. If Cassio do remain,
- He hath a daily beauty in his life
- That makes me ugly; and besides, the Moor
- May unfold me to him; there stand I in much peril.
- No, he must die. Be't so. I hear him coming.
-
- Enter Cassio.
-
- RODERIGO. I know his gait; 'tis he. Villain, thou diest!
- Makes a pass at Cassio.
- CASSIO. That thrust had been mine enemy indeed,
- But that my coat is better than thou know'st;
- I will make proof of thine. Draws, and wounds Roderigo.
- RODERIGO. O, I am slain!
- Iago from behind wounds Cassio in the leg, and exit.
- CASSIO. I am maim'd forever. Help, ho! Murther! Murther!
- Falls.
-
- Enter Othello.
-
- OTHELLO. The voice of Cassio; Iago keeps his word.
- RODERIGO. O, villain that I am!
- OTHELLO. It is even so.
- CASSIO. O, help, ho! Light! A surgeon!
- OTHELLO. 'Tis he. O brave Iago, honest and just,
- That hast such noble sense of thy friend's wrong!
- Thou teachest me. Minion, your dear lies dead,
- And your unblest fate hies. Strumpet, I come!
- Forth of my heart those charms, thine eyes, are blotted;
- Thy bed lust-stain'd shall with lust's blood be spotted.
- Exit.
-
- Enter Lodovico and Gratiano.
-
- CASSIO. What, ho! No watch? No passage? Murther! Murther!
- GRATIANO. 'Tis some mischance; the cry is very direful.
- CASSIO. O, help!
- LODOVICO. Hark!
- RODERIGO. O wretched villain!
- LODOVICO. Two or three groan; it is a heavy night.
- These may be counterfeits; let's think't unsafe
- To come in to the cry without more help.
- RODERIGO. Nobody come? Then shall I bleed to death.
- LODOVICO. Hark!
-
- Re-enter Iago, with a light.
-
- GRATIANO. Here's one comes in his shirt, with light and weapons.
- IAGO. Who's there? Whose noise is this that cries on murther?
- LODOVICO. We do not know.
- IAGO. Did not you hear a cry?
- CASSIO. Here, here! for heaven's sake, help me!
- IAGO. What's the matter?
- GRATIANO. This is Othello's ancient, as I take it.
- LODOVICO. The same indeed; a very valiant fellow.
- IAGO. What are you here that cry so grievously?
- CASSIO. Iago? O, I am spoil'd, undone by villains!
- Give me some help.
- IAGO. O me, lieutenant! What villains have done this?
- CASSIO. I think that one of them is hereabout,
- And cannot make away.
- IAGO. O treacherous villains!
- [To Lodovico and Gratiano.] What are you there?
- Come in and give some help.
- RODERIGO. O, help me here!
- CASSIO. That's one of them.
- IAGO. O murtherous slave! O villain!
- Stabs Roderigo.
- RODERIGO. O damn'd Iago! O inhuman dog!
- IAGO. Kill men i' the dark! Where be these bloody thieves?
- How silent is this town! Ho! Murther! Murther!
- What may you be? Are you of good or evil?
- LODOVICO. As you shall prove us, praise us.
- IAGO. Signior Lodovico?
- LODOVICO. He, sir.
- IAGO. I cry you mercy. Here's Cassio hurt by villains.
- GRATIANO. Cassio?
- IAGO. How is't, brother?
- CASSIO. My leg is cut in two.
- IAGO. Marry, heaven forbid!
- Light, gentlemen; I'll bind it with my shirt.
-
- Enter Bianca.
-
- BIANCA. What is the matter, ho? Who is't that cried?
- IAGO. Who is't that cried?
- BIANCA. O my dear Cassio, my sweet Cassio! O Cassio, Cassio,
- Cassio!
- IAGO. O notable strumpet! Cassio, may you suspect
- Who they should be that have thus mangled you?
- CASSIO. No.
- GRATIANO. I am sorry to find you thus; I have been to seek you.
- IAGO. Lend me a garter. So. O, for a chair,
- To bear him easily hence!
- BIANCA. Alas, he faints! O Cassio, Cassio, Cassio!
- IAGO. Gentlemen all, I do suspect this trash
- To be a party in this injury.
- Patience awhile, good Cassio. Come, come;
- Lend me a light. Know we this face or no?
- Alas, my friend and my dear countryman
- Roderigo? No- yes, sure. O heaven! Roderigo.
- GRATIANO. What, of Venice?
- IAGO. Even he, sir. Did you know him?
- GRATIANO. Know him! ay.
- IAGO. Signior Gratiano? I cry you gentle pardon;
- These bloody accidents must excuse my manners,
- That so neglected you.
- GRATIANO. I am glad to see you.
- IAGO. How do you, Cassio? O, a chair, a chair!
- GRATIANO. Roderigo!
- IAGO. He, he, 'tis he. [A chair brought in.] O, that's well said:
- the chair.
- Some good man bear him carefully from hence;
- I'll fetch the general's surgeon. [To Bianca.] For you, mistress,
- Save you your labor. He that lies slain here, Cassio,
- Was my dear friend; what malice was between you?
- CASSIO. None in the world; nor do I know the man.
- IAGO. [To Bianca.] What, look you pale? O, bear him out o' the air.
- Cassio and Roderigo are borne off.
- Stay you, good gentlemen. Look you pale, mistress?
- Do you perceive the gastness of her eye?
- Nay, if you stare, we shall hear more anon.
- Behold her well; I pray you, look upon her.
- Do you see, gentlemen? Nay, guiltiness will speak,
- Though tongues were out of use.
-
- Enter Emilia.
-
- EMILIA. 'Las, what's the matter? What's the matter, husband?
- IAGO. Cassio hath here been set on in the dark
- By Roderigo, and fellows that are 'scaped;
- He's almost slain, and Roderigo dead.
- EMILIA. Alas, good gentleman! alas, good Cassio!
- IAGO. This is the fruit of whoring. Prithee, Emilia,
- Go know of Cassio where he supp'd tonight.
- What, do you shake at that?
- BIANCA. He supp'd at my house; but I therefore shake not.
- IAGO. O, did he so? I charge you, go with me.
- EMILIA. Fie, fie upon thee, strumpet!
- BIANCA. I am no strumpet, but of life as honest
- As you that thus abuse me.
- EMILIA. As I! foh! fie upon thee!
- IAGO. Kind gentlemen, let's go see poor Cassio dress'd.
- Come, mistress, you must tell's another tale.
- Emilia, run you to the citadel,
- And tell my lord and lady what hath happ'd!
- Will you go on? [Aside.] This is the night
- That either makes me or fordoes me quite. Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-A bedchamber in the castle. Desdemona in bed asleep; a light burning.
-
-Enter Othello.
-
- OTHELLO. It is the cause, it is the cause, my soul.
- Let me not name it to you, you chaste stars!
- It is the cause. Yet I'll not shed her blood,
- Nor scar that whiter skin of hers than snow
- And smooth as monumental alabaster.
- Yet she must die, else she'll betray more men.
- Put out the light, and then put out the light.
- If I quench thee, thou flaming minister,
- I can again thy former light restore,
- Should I repent me; but once put out thy light,
- Thou cunning'st pattern of excelling nature,
- I know not where is that Promethean heat
- That can thy light relume. When I have pluck'd the rose,
- I cannot give it vital growth again,
- It must needs wither; I'll smell it on the tree. Kisses her.
- O, balmy breath, that dost almost persuade
- Justice to break her sword! One more, one more;
- Be thus when thou art dead, and I will kill thee,
- And love thee after. One more, and this the last;
- So sweet was ne'er so fatal. I must weep,
- But they are cruel tears; this sorrow's heavenly,
- It strikes where it doth love. She wakes.
- DESDEMONA. Who's there? Othello?
- OTHELLO. Ay, Desdemona.
- DESDEMONA. Will you come to bed, my lord?
- OTHELLO. Have you pray'd tonight, Desdemona?
- DESDEMONA. Ay, my lord.
- OTHELLO. If you bethink yourself of any crime
- Unreconciled as yet to heaven and grace,
- Solicit for it straight.
- DESDEMONA. Alas, my lord, what may you mean by that?
- OTHELLO. Well, do it, and be brief; I will walk by.
- I would not kill thy unprepared spirit.
- No, heaven forfend! I would not kill thy soul.
- DESDEMONA. Talk you of killing?
- OTHELLO. Ay, I do.
- DESDEMONA. Then heaven have mercy on me!
- OTHELLO. Amen, with all my heart!
- DESDEMONA. If you say so, I hope you will not kill me.
- OTHELLO. Hum!
- DESDEMONA. And yet I fear you, for you are fatal then
- When your eyes roll so. Why I should fear I know not,
- Since guiltiness I know not; but yet I feel I fear.
- OTHELLO. Think on thy sins.
- DESDEMONA. They are loves I bear to you.
- OTHELLO. Ay, and for that thou diest.
- DESDEMONA. That death's unnatural that kills for loving.
- Alas, why gnaw you so your nether lip?
- Some bloody passion shakes your very frame.
- These are portents; but yet I hope, I hope,
- They do not point on me.
- OTHELLO. Peace, and be still!
- DESDEMONA. I will so. What's the matter?
- OTHELLO. That handkerchief which I so loved and gave thee
- Thou gavest to Cassio.
- DESDEMONA. No, by my life and soul!
- Send for the man, and ask him.
- OTHELLO. Sweet soul, take heed,
- Take heed of perjury; thou are on thy deathbed.
- DESDEMONA. Ay, but not yet to die.
- OTHELLO. Yes, presently:
- Therefore confess thee freely of thy sin,
- For to deny each article with oath
- Cannot remove nor choke the strong conception
- That I do groan withal. Thou art to die.
- DESDEMONA. Then Lord have mercy on me!
- OTHELLO. I say, amen.
- DESDEMONA. And have you mercy too! I never did
- Offend you in my life; never loved Cassio
- But with such general warranty of heaven
- As I might love. I never gave him token.
- OTHELLO. By heaven, I saw my handkerchief in 's hand.
- O perjured woman! Thou dost stone my heart,
- And makest me call what I intend to do
- A murther, which I thought a sacrifice.
- I saw the handkerchief.
- DESDEMONA. He found it then;
- I never gave it him. Send for him hither;
- Let him confess a truth.
- OTHELLO. He hath confess'd.
- DESDEMONA. What, my lord?
- OTHELLO. That he hath used thee.
- DESDEMONA. How? unlawfully?
- OTHELLO. Ay.
- DESDEMONA. He will not say so.
- OTHELLO. No, his mouth is stopp'd;
- Honest Iago hath ta'en order for't.
- DESDEMONA. O, my fear interprets! What, is he dead?
- OTHELLO. Had all his hairs been lives, my great revenge
- Had stomach for them all.
- DESDEMONA. Alas, he is betray'd, and I undone!
- OTHELLO. Out, strumpet! Weep'st thou for him to my face?
- DESDEMONA. O, banish me, my lord, but kill me not!
- OTHELLO. Down, strumpet!
- DESDEMONA. Kill me tomorrow; let me live tonight!
- OTHELLO. Nay, if you strive-
- DESDEMONA. But half an hour!
- OTHELLO. Being done, there is no pause.
- DESDEMONA. But while I say one prayer!
- OTHELLO. It is too late. He stifles her.
- EMILIA. [Within.] My lord, my lord! What, ho! my lord, my lord!
- OTHELLO. What noise is this? Not dead? not yet quite dead?
- I that am cruel am yet merciful;
- I would not have thee linger in thy pain.
- So, so.
- EMILIA. [Within.] What, ho! my lord, my lord!
- OTHELLO. Who's there?
- EMILIA. [Within.] O, good my lord, I would speak a word with you!
- OTHELLO. Yes, 'tis Emilia. By and by. She's dead.
- 'Tis like she comes to speak of Cassio's death.
- The noise was here. Ha! no more moving?
- Still as the grave. Shall she come in? were't good?
- I think she stirs again. No. What's best to do?
- If she come in, she'll sure speak to my wife.
- My wife! My wife! What wife? I have no wife.
- O, insupportable! O heavy hour!
- Methinks it should be now a huge eclipse
- Of sun and moon, and that the affrighted globe
- Should yawn at alteration.
- EMILIA. [Within.] I do beseech you
- That I may speak with you, O, good my lord!
- OTHELLO. I had forgot thee. O, come in, Emilia.
- Soft, by and by. Let me the curtains draw.
- Where art thou? Unlocks the door.
-
- Enter Emilia.
-
- What's the matter with thee now?
- EMILIA. O, my good lord, yonder's foul murthers done!
- OTHELLO. What, now?
- EMILIA. But now, my lord.
- OTHELLO. It is the very error of the moon;
- She comes more nearer earth than she was wont
- And makes men mad.
- EMILIA. Cassio, my lord, hath kill'd a young Venetian
- Call'd Roderigo.
- OTHELLO. Roderigo kill'd?
- And Cassio kill'd?
- EMILIA. No, Cassio is not kill'd.
- OTHELLO. Not Cassio kill'd! Then murther's out of tune,
- And sweet revenge grows harsh.
- DESDEMONA. O, falsely, falsely murther'd!
- EMILIA. Alas, what cry is that?
- OTHELLO. That? what?
- EMILIA. Out, and alas! That was my lady's voice.
- Help! help, ho! help! O lady, speak again!
- Sweet Desdemona! O sweet mistress, speak!
- DESDEMONA. A guiltless death I die.
- EMILIA. O, who hath done this deed?
- DESDEMONA. Nobody; I myself. Farewell;
- Commend me to my kind lord. O, farewell! Dies.
- OTHELLO. Why, how should she be murther'd?
- EMILIA. Alas, who knows?
- OTHELLO. You heard her say herself, it was not I.
- EMILIA. She said so; I must needs report the truth.
- OTHELLO. She's like a liar gone to burning hell;
- 'Twas I that kill'd her.
- EMILIA. O, the more angel she,
- And you the blacker devil!
- OTHELLO. She turn'd to folly, and she was a whore.
- EMILIA. Thou dost belie her, and thou art a devil.
- OTHELLO. She was false as water.
- EMILIA. Thou art rash as fire, to say
- That she was false. O, she was heavenly true!
- OTHELLO. Cassio did top her; ask thy husband else.
- O, I were damn'd beneath all depth in hell,
- But that I did proceed upon just grounds
- To this extremity. Thy husband knew it all.
- EMILIA. My husband?
- OTHELLO. Thy husband.
- EMILIA. That she was false to wedlock?
- OTHELLO. Ay, with Cassio. Nay, had she been true,
- If heaven would make me such another world
- Of one entire and perfect chrysolite,
- I'ld not have sold her for it.
- EMILIA. My husband?
- OTHELLO. Ay, 'twas he that told me first.
- An honest man he is, and hates the slime
- That sticks on filthy deeds.
- EMILIA. My husband?
- OTHELLO. What needs this iteration, woman? I say thy husband.
- EMILIA. O mistress, villainy hath made mocks with love!
- My husband say that she was false!
- OTHELLO. He, woman;
- I say thy husband. Dost understand the word?
- My friend, thy husband, honest, honest Iago.
- EMILIA. If he say so, may his pernicious soul
- Rot half a grain a day! He lies to the heart.
- She was too fond of her most filthy bargain.
- OTHELLO. Ha!
- EMILIA. Do thy worst;
- This deed of thine is no more worthy heaven
- Than thou wast worthy her.
- OTHELLO. Peace, you were best.
- EMILIA. Thou hast not half that power to do me harm
- As I have to be hurt. O gull! O dolt!
- As ignorant as dirt! Thou hast done a deed-
- I care not for thy sword; I'll make thee known,
- Though I lost twenty lives. Help! help, ho! help!
- The Moor hath kill'd my mistress! Murther, murther!
-
- Enter Montano, Gratiano, Iago, and others.
-
- MONTANO. What is the matter? How now, general?
- EMILIA. O, are you come, Iago? You have done well,
- That men must lay their murthers on your neck.
- GRATIANO. What is the matter?
- EMILIA. Disprove this villain, if thou be'st a man.
- He says thou told'st him that his wife was false;
- I know thou didst not, thou'rt not such a villain.
- Speak, for my heart is full.
- IAGO. I told him what I thought, and told no more
- Than what he found himself was apt and true.
- EMILIA. But did you ever tell him she was false?
- IAGO. I did.
- EMILIA. You told a lie, an odious, damned lie;
- Upon my soul, a lie, a wicked lie!
- She false with Cassio? Did you say with Cassio?
- IAGO. With Cassio, mistress. Go to, charm your tongue.
- EMILIA. I will not charm my tongue; I am bound to speak.
- My mistress here lies murther'd in her bed-
- ALL. O heavens forfend!
- EMILIA. And your reports have set the murther on.
- OTHELLO. Nay, stare not, masters; it is true indeed.
- GRATIANO. 'Tis a strange truth.
- MONTANO. O monstrous act!
- EMILIA. Villainy, villainy, villainy!
- I think upon't, I think, I smell't, O villainy!
- I thought so then. I'll kill myself for grief.
- O villainy, villainy!
- IAGO. What, are you mad? I charge you, get you home.
- EMILIA. Good gentlemen, let me have leave to speak;
- 'Tis proper I obey him, but not now.
- Perchance, Iago, I will ne'er go home.
- OTHELLO. O! O! O! Falls on the bed.
- EMILIA. Nay, lay thee down and roar;
- For thou hast kill'd the sweetest innocent
- That e'er did lift up eye.
- OTHELLO. [Rises.] O, she was foul!
- I scarce did know you, uncle; there lies your niece,
- Whose breath indeed these hands have newly stopp'd.
- I know this act shows horrible and grim.
- GRATIANO. Poor Desdemon! I am glad thy father's dead.
- Thy match was mortal to him, and pure grief
- Shore his old thread in twain; did he live now,
- This sight would make him do a desperate turn,
- Yea, curse his better angel from his side,
- And fall to reprobation.
- OTHELLO. 'Tis pitiful, but yet Iago knows
- That she with Cassio hath the act of shame
- A thousand times committed. Cassio confess'd it,
- And she did gratify his amorous works
- With that recognizance and pledge of love
- Which I first gave her. I saw it in his hand,
- It was a handkerchief, an antique token
- My father gave my mother.
- EMILIA. O heaven! O heavenly powers!
- IAGO. 'Zounds! Hold your peace.
- EMILIA. 'Twill out, 'twill. I peace?
- No, I will speak as liberal as the north;
- Let heaven and men and devils, let them all,
- All, all, cry shame against me, yet I'll speak.
- IAGO. Be wise, and get you home.
- EMILIA. I will not.
- Iago offers to stab Emilia.
- GRATIANO. Fie!
- Your sword upon a woman?
- EMILIA. O thou dull Moor! That handkerchief thou speak'st of
- I found by fortune and did give my husband,
- For often with a solemn earnestness,
- More than indeed belong'd to such a trifle,
- He begg'd of me to steal it.
- IAGO. Villainous whore!
- EMILIA. She give it Cassio? No, alas, I found it,
- And I did give't my husband.
- IAGO. Filth, thou liest!
- EMILIA. By heaven, I do not, I do not, gentlemen.
- O murtherous coxcomb! What should such a fool
- Do with so good a wife?
- OTHELLO. Are there not stones in heaven
- But what serve for thunder? Precious villain!
- He runs at Iago, but Montano
- disarms him. Iago stabs Emilia.
- GRATIANO. The woman falls; sure, he hath kill'd his wife.
- EMILIA. Ay, ay! O, lay me by my mistress' side. Exit Iago.
- GRATIANO. He's gone, but his wife's kill'd.
- MONTANO. 'Tis a notorious villain. Take you this weapon,
- Which I have here recover'd from the Moor.
- Come, guard the door without; let him not pass,
- But kill him rather. I'll after that same villain,
- For 'tis a damned slave. Exeunt all but Othello and Emilia.
- OTHELLO. I am not valiant neither,
- But every puny whipster gets my sword.
- But why should honor outlive honesty?
- Let it go all.
- EMILIA. What did thy song bode, lady?
- Hark, canst thou hear me? I will play the swan,
- And die in music. [Sings.] "Willow, willow, willow."
- Moor, she was chaste; she loved thee, cruel Moor;
- So come my soul to bliss, as I speak true;
- So speaking as I think, I die, I die. Dies.
- OTHELLO. I have another weapon in this chamber;
- It is a sword of Spain, the ice-brook's temper-
- O, here it is. Uncle, I must come forth.
- GRATIANO. [Within.] If thou attempt it, it will cost thee dear.
- Thou hast no weapon, and perforce must suffer.
- OTHELLO. Look in upon me then, and speak with me,
- Or, naked as I am, I will assault thee.
-
- Re-enter Gratiano.
-
- GRATIANO. What is the matter?
- OTHELLO. Behold, I have a weapon;
- A better never did itself sustain
- Upon a soldier's thigh. I have seen the day
- That with this little arm and this good sword
- I have made my way through more impediments
- Than twenty times your stop. But, O vain boast!
- Who can control his fate? 'Tis not so now.
- Be not afraid, though you do see me weapon'd;
- Here is my journey's end, here is my butt
- And very sea-mark of my utmost sail.
- Do you go back dismay'd? 'Tis a lost fear.
- Man but a rush against Othello's breast,
- And he retires. Where should Othello go?
- Now, how dost thou look now? O ill-starr'd wench!
- Pale as thy smock! When we shall meet at compt,
- This look of thine will hurl my soul from heaven,
- And fiends will snatch at it. Cold, cold, my girl?
- Even like thy chastity. O cursed, cursed slave!
- Whip me, ye devils,
- From the possession of this heavenly sight!
- Blow me about in winds! Roast me in sulphur!
- Wash me in steep-down gulfs of liquid fire!
- O Desdemon! dead, Desdemon! dead!
- O! O! O!
-
- Enter Lodovico, Montano, Cassio carried in a chair,
- and Officers with Iago, prisoner.
-
- LODOVICO. Where is this rash and most unfortunate man?
- OTHELLO. That's he that was Othello. Here I am.
- LODOVICO. Where is that viper? Bring the villain forth.
- OTHELLO. I look down towards his feet; but that's a fable.
- If that thou be'st a devil, I cannot kill thee. Wounds Iago.
- LODOVICO. Wrench his sword from him.
- IAGO. I bleed, sir, but not kill'd.
- OTHELLO. I am not sorry neither. I'ld have thee live,
- For, in my sense, 'tis happiness to die.
- LODOVICO. O thou Othello, that wert once so good,
- Fall'n in the practice of a damned slave,
- What shall be said to thee?
- OTHELLO. Why, anything;
- An honorable murtherer, if you will,
- For nought did I in hate, but all in honor.
- LODOVICO. This wretch hath part confess'd his villainy.
- Did you and he consent in Cassio's death?
- OTHELLO. Ay.
- CASSIO. Dear general, I never gave you cause.
- OTHELLO. I do believe it, and I ask your pardon.
- Will you, I pray, demand that demi-devil
- Why he hath thus ensnared my soul and body?
- IAGO. Demand me nothing; what you know, you know.
- From this time forth I never will speak word.
- LODOVICO. What, not to pray?
- GRATIANO. Torments will ope your lips.
- OTHELLO. Well, thou dost best.
- LODOVICO. Sir, you shall understand what hath befall'n,
- Which, as I think, you know not. Here is a letter
- Found in the pocket of the slain Roderigo,
- And here another. The one of them imports
- The death of Cassio to be undertook
- By Roderigo.
- OTHELLO. O villain!
- CASSIO. Most heathenish and most gross!
- LODOVICO. Now here's another discontented paper,
- Found in his pocket too; and this, it seems,
- Roderigo meant to have sent this damned villain;
- But that, belike, Iago in the interim
- Came in and satisfied him.
- OTHELLO. O the pernicious caitiff!
- How came you, Cassio, by that handkerchief
- That was my wife's?
- CASSIO. I found it in my chamber;
- And he himself confess'd but even now
- That there he dropp'd it for a special purpose
- Which wrought to his desire.
- OTHELLO. O fool! fool! fool!
- CASSIO. There is besides in Roderigo's letter,
- How he upbraids Iago, that he made him
- Brave me upon the watch, whereon it came
- That I was cast. And even but now he spake
- After long seeming dead, Iago hurt him,
- Iago set him on.
- LODOVICO. You must forsake this room, and go with us.
- Your power and your command is taken off,
- And Cassio rules in Cyprus. For this slave,
- If there be any cunning cruelty
- That can torment him much and hold him long,
- It shall be his. You shall close prisoner rest,
- Till that the nature of your fault be known
- To the Venetian state. Come, bring away.
- OTHELLO. Soft you; a word or two before you go.
- I have done the state some service, and they know't.
- No more of that. I pray you, in your letters,
- When you shall these unlucky deeds relate,
- Speak of me as I am; nothing extenuate,
- Nor set down aught in malice. Then must you speak
- Of one that loved not wisely but too well;
- Of one not easily jealous, but, being wrought,
- Perplex'd in the extreme; of one whose hand,
- Like the base Indian, threw a pearl away
- Richer than all his tribe; of one whose subdued eyes,
- Albeit unused to the melting mood,
- Drop tears as fast as the Arabian trees
- Their medicinal gum. Set you down this;
- And say besides, that in Aleppo once,
- Where a malignant and a turban'd Turk
- Beat a Venetian and traduced the state,
- I took by the throat the circumcised dog
- And smote him, thus. Stabs himself.
- LODOVICO. O bloody period!
- GRATIANO. All that's spoke is marr'd.
- OTHELLO. I kiss'd thee ere I kill'd thee. No way but this,
- Killing myself, to die upon a kiss.
- Falls on the bed, and dies.
- CASSIO. This did I fear, but thought he had no weapon;
- For he was great of heart.
- LODOVICO. [To Iago.] O Spartan dog,
- More fell than anguish, hunger, or the sea!
- Look on the tragic loading of this bed;
- This is thy work. The object poisons sight;
- Let it be hid. Gratiano, keep the house,
- And seize upon the fortunes of the Moor,
- For they succeed on you. To you, Lord Governor,
- Remains the censure of this hellish villain,
- The time, the place, the torture. O, enforce it!
- Myself will straight aboard, and to the state
- This heavy act with heavy heart relate. Exeunt.
-
-
-THE END
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
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-1596
-
-
-KING RICHARD THE SECOND
-
-
-by William Shakespeare
-
-
-
-DRAMATIS PERSONAE
-
- KING RICHARD THE SECOND
- JOHN OF GAUNT, Duke of Lancaster - uncle to the King
- EDMUND LANGLEY, Duke of York - uncle to the King
- HENRY, surnamed BOLINGBROKE, Duke of Hereford, son of
- John of Gaunt, afterwards King Henry IV
- DUKE OF AUMERLE, son of the Duke of York
- THOMAS MOWBRAY, Duke of Norfolk
- DUKE OF SURREY
- EARL OF SALISBURY
- EARL BERKELEY
- BUSHY - favourites of King Richard
- BAGOT - " " " "
- GREEN - " " " "
- EARL OF NORTHUMBERLAND
- HENRY PERCY, surnamed HOTSPUR, his son
- LORD Ross LORD WILLOUGHBY
- LORD FITZWATER BISHOP OF CARLISLE
- ABBOT OF WESTMINSTER LORD MARSHAL
- SIR STEPHEN SCROOP SIR PIERCE OF EXTON
- CAPTAIN of a band of Welshmen TWO GARDENERS
-
- QUEEN to King Richard
- DUCHESS OF YORK
- DUCHESS OF GLOUCESTER, widow of Thomas of Woodstock,
- Duke of Gloucester
- LADY attending on the Queen
-
- Lords, Heralds, Officers, Soldiers, Keeper, Messenger,
- Groom, and other Attendants
-
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-SCENE:
-England and Wales
-
-
-ACT I. SCENE I.
-London. The palace
-
-Enter RICHARD, JOHN OF GAUNT, with other NOBLES and attendants
-
- KING RICHARD. Old John of Gaunt, time-honoured Lancaster,
- Hast thou, according to thy oath and band,
- Brought hither Henry Hereford, thy bold son,
- Here to make good the boist'rous late appeal,
- Which then our leisure would not let us hear,
- Against the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray?
- GAUNT. I have, my liege.
- KING RICHARD. Tell me, moreover, hast thou sounded him
- If he appeal the Duke on ancient malice,
- Or worthily, as a good subject should,
- On some known ground of treachery in him?
- GAUNT. As near as I could sift him on that argument,
- On some apparent danger seen in him
- Aim'd at your Highness-no inveterate malice.
- KING RICHARD. Then call them to our presence: face to face
- And frowning brow to brow, ourselves will hear
- The accuser and the accused freely speak.
- High-stomach'd are they both and full of ire,
- In rage, deaf as the sea, hasty as fire.
-
- Enter BOLINGBROKE and MOWBRAY
-
- BOLINGBROKE. Many years of happy days befall
- My gracious sovereign, my most loving liege!
- MOWBRAY. Each day still better other's happiness
- Until the heavens, envying earth's good hap,
- Add an immortal title to your crown!
- KING RICHARD. We thank you both; yet one but flatters us,
- As well appeareth by the cause you come;
- Namely, to appeal each other of high treason.
- Cousin of Hereford, what dost thou object
- Against the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray?
- BOLINGBROKE. First-heaven be the record to my speech!
- In the devotion of a subject's love,
- Tend'ring the precious safety of my prince,
- And free from other misbegotten hate,
- Come I appellant to this princely presence.
- Now, Thomas Mowbray, do I turn to thee,
- And mark my greeting well; for what I speak
- My body shall make good upon this earth,
- Or my divine soul answer it in heaven-
- Thou art a traitor and a miscreant,
- Too good to be so, and too bad to live,
- Since the more fair and crystal is the sky,
- The uglier seem the clouds that in it fly.
- Once more, the more to aggravate the note,
- With a foul traitor's name stuff I thy throat;
- And wish-so please my sovereign-ere I move,
- What my tongue speaks, my right drawn sword may prove.
- MOWBRAY. Let not my cold words here accuse my zeal.
- 'Tis not the trial of a woman's war,
- The bitter clamour of two eager tongues,
- Can arbitrate this cause betwixt us twain;
- The blood is hot that must be cool'd for this.
- Yet can I not of such tame patience boast
- As to be hush'd and nought at an to say.
- First, the fair reverence of your Highness curbs me
- From giving reins and spurs to my free speech;
- Which else would post until it had return'd
- These terms of treason doubled down his throat.
- Setting aside his high blood's royalty,
- And let him be no kinsman to my liege,
- I do defy him, and I spit at him,
- Call him a slanderous coward and a villain;
- Which to maintain, I would allow him odds
- And meet him, were I tied to run afoot
- Even to the frozen ridges of the Alps,
- Or any other ground inhabitable
- Where ever Englishman durst set his foot.
- Meantime let this defend my loyalty-
- By all my hopes, most falsely doth he lie
- BOLINGBROKE. Pale trembling coward, there I throw my gage,
- Disclaiming here the kindred of the King;
- And lay aside my high blood's royalty,
- Which fear, not reverence, makes thee to except.
- If guilty dread have left thee so much strength
- As to take up mine honour's pawn, then stoop.
- By that and all the rites of knighthood else
- Will I make good against thee, arm to arm,
- What I have spoke or thou canst worst devise.
- MOWBRAY. I take it up; and by that sword I swear
- Which gently laid my knighthood on my shoulder
- I'll answer thee in any fair degree
- Or chivalrous design of knightly trial;
- And when I mount, alive may I not light
- If I be traitor or unjustly fight!
- KING RICHARD. What doth our cousin lay to Mowbray's charge?
- It must be great that can inherit us
- So much as of a thought of ill in him.
- BOLINGBROKE. Look what I speak, my life shall prove it true-
- That Mowbray hath receiv'd eight thousand nobles
- In name of lendings for your Highness' soldiers,
- The which he hath detain'd for lewd employments
- Like a false traitor and injurious villain.
- Besides, I say and will in battle prove-
- Or here, or elsewhere to the furthest verge
- That ever was survey'd by English eye-
- That all the treasons for these eighteen years
- Complotted and contrived in this land
- Fetch from false Mowbray their first head and spring.
- Further I say, and further will maintain
- Upon his bad life to make all this good,
- That he did plot the Duke of Gloucester's death,
- Suggest his soon-believing adversaries,
- And consequently, like a traitor coward,
- Sluic'd out his innocent soul through streams of blood;
- Which blood, like sacrificing Abel's, cries,
- Even from the tongueless caverns of the earth,
- To me for justice and rough chastisement;
- And, by the glorious worth of my descent,
- This arm shall do it, or this life be spent.
- KING RICHARD. How high a pitch his resolution soars!
- Thomas of Norfolk, what say'st thou to this?
- MOWBRAY. O, let my sovereign turn away his face
- And bid his ears a little while be deaf,
- Till I have told this slander of his blood
- How God and good men hate so foul a liar.
- KING RICHARD. Mowbray, impartial are our eyes and cars.
- Were he my brother, nay, my kingdom's heir,
- As he is but my father's brother's son,
- Now by my sceptre's awe I make a vow,
- Such neighbour nearness to our sacred blood
- Should nothing privilege him nor partialize
- The unstooping firmness of my upright soul.
- He is our subject, Mowbray; so art thou:
- Free speech and fearless I to thee allow.
- MOWBRAY. Then, Bolingbroke, as low as to thy heart,
- Through the false passage of thy throat, thou liest.
- Three parts of that receipt I had for Calais
- Disburs'd I duly to his Highness' soldiers;
- The other part reserv'd I by consent,
- For that my sovereign liege was in my debt
- Upon remainder of a dear account
- Since last I went to France to fetch his queen:
- Now swallow down that lie. For Gloucester's death-
- I slew him not, but to my own disgrace
- Neglected my sworn duty in that case.
- For you, my noble Lord of Lancaster,
- The honourable father to my foe,
- Once did I lay an ambush for your life,
- A trespass that doth vex my grieved soul;
- But ere I last receiv'd the sacrament
- I did confess it, and exactly begg'd
- Your Grace's pardon; and I hope I had it.
- This is my fault. As for the rest appeal'd,
- It issues from the rancour of a villain,
- A recreant and most degenerate traitor;
- Which in myself I boldly will defend,
- And interchangeably hurl down my gage
- Upon this overweening traitor's foot
- To prove myself a loyal gentleman
- Even in the best blood chamber'd in his bosom.
- In haste whereof, most heartily I pray
- Your Highness to assign our trial day.
- KING RICHARD. Wrath-kindled gentlemen, be rul'd by me;
- Let's purge this choler without letting blood-
- This we prescribe, though no physician;
- Deep malice makes too deep incision.
- Forget, forgive; conclude and be agreed:
- Our doctors say this is no month to bleed.
- Good uncle, let this end where it begun;
- We'll calm the Duke of Norfolk, you your son.
- GAUNT. To be a make-peace shall become my age.
- Throw down, my son, the Duke of Norfolk's gage.
- KING RICHARD. And, Norfolk, throw down his.
- GAUNT. When, Harry, when?
- Obedience bids I should not bid again.
- KING RICHARD. Norfolk, throw down; we bid.
- There is no boot.
- MOWBRAY. Myself I throw, dread sovereign, at thy foot;
- My life thou shalt command, but not my shame:
- The one my duty owes; but my fair name,
- Despite of death, that lives upon my grave
- To dark dishonour's use thou shalt not have.
- I am disgrac'd, impeach'd, and baffl'd here;
- Pierc'd to the soul with slander's venom'd spear,
- The which no balm can cure but his heart-blood
- Which breath'd this poison.
- KING RICHARD. Rage must be withstood:
- Give me his gage-lions make leopards tame.
- MOWBRAY. Yea, but not change his spots. Take but my shame,
- And I resign my gage. My dear dear lord,
- The purest treasure mortal times afford
- Is spotless reputation; that away,
- Men are but gilded loam or painted clay.
- A jewel in a ten-times barr'd-up chest
- Is a bold spirit in a loyal breast.
- Mine honour is my life; both grow in one;
- Take honour from me, and my life is done:
- Then, dear my liege, mine honour let me try;
- In that I live, and for that will I die.
- KING RICHARD. Cousin, throw up your gage; do you begin.
- BOLINGBROKE. O, God defend my soul from such deep sin!
- Shall I seem crest-fallen in my father's sight?
- Or with pale beggar-fear impeach my height
- Before this outdar'd dastard? Ere my tongue
- Shall wound my honour with such feeble wrong
- Or sound so base a parle, my teeth shall tear
- The slavish motive of recanting fear,
- And spit it bleeding in his high disgrace,
- Where shame doth harbour, even in Mowbray's face.
- Exit GAUNT
- KING RICHARD. We were not born to sue, but to command;
- Which since we cannot do to make you friends,
- Be ready, as your lives shall answer it,
- At Coventry, upon Saint Lambert's day.
- There shall your swords and lances arbitrate
- The swelling difference of your settled hate;
- Since we can not atone you, we shall see
- Justice design the victor's chivalry.
- Lord Marshal, command our officers-at-arms
- Be ready to direct these home alarms. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 2.
-London. The DUKE OF LANCASTER'S palace
-
-Enter JOHN OF GAUNT with the DUCHESS OF GLOUCESTER
-
- GAUNT. Alas, the part I had in Woodstock's blood
- Doth more solicit me than your exclaims
- To stir against the butchers of his life!
- But since correction lieth in those hands
- Which made the fault that we cannot correct,
- Put we our quarrel to the will of heaven;
- Who, when they see the hours ripe on earth,
- Will rain hot vengeance on offenders' heads.
- DUCHESS. Finds brotherhood in thee no sharper spur?
- Hath love in thy old blood no living fire?
- Edward's seven sons, whereof thyself art one,
- Were as seven vials of his sacred blood,
- Or seven fair branches springing from one root.
- Some of those seven are dried by nature's course,
- Some of those branches by the Destinies cut;
- But Thomas, my dear lord, my life, my Gloucester,
- One vial full of Edward's sacred blood,
- One flourishing branch of his most royal root,
- Is crack'd, and all the precious liquor spilt;
- Is hack'd down, and his summer leaves all faded,
- By envy's hand and murder's bloody axe.
- Ah, Gaunt, his blood was thine! That bed, that womb,
- That mettle, that self mould, that fashion'd thee,
- Made him a man; and though thou livest and breathest,
- Yet art thou slain in him. Thou dost consent
- In some large measure to thy father's death
- In that thou seest thy wretched brother die,
- Who was the model of thy father's life.
- Call it not patience, Gaunt-it is despair;
- In suff'ring thus thy brother to be slaught'red,
- Thou showest the naked pathway to thy life,
- Teaching stern murder how to butcher thee.
- That which in mean men we entitle patience
- Is pale cold cowardice in noble breasts.
- What shall I say? To safeguard thine own life
- The best way is to venge my Gloucester's death.
- GAUNT. God's is the quarrel; for God's substitute,
- His deputy anointed in His sight,
- Hath caus'd his death; the which if wrongfully,
- Let heaven revenge; for I may never lift
- An angry arm against His minister.
- DUCHESS. Where then, alas, may I complain myself?
- GAUNT. To God, the widow's champion and defence.
- DUCHESS. Why then, I will. Farewell, old Gaunt.
- Thou goest to Coventry, there to behold
- Our cousin Hereford and fell Mowbray fight.
- O, sit my husband's wrongs on Hereford's spear,
- That it may enter butcher Mowbray's breast!
- Or, if misfortune miss the first career,
- Be Mowbray's sins so heavy in his bosom
- That they may break his foaming courser's back
- And throw the rider headlong in the lists,
- A caitiff recreant to my cousin Hereford!
- Farewell, old Gaunt; thy sometimes brother's wife,
- With her companion, Grief, must end her life.
- GAUNT. Sister, farewell; I must to Coventry.
- As much good stay with thee as go with me!
- DUCHESS. Yet one word more- grief boundeth where it falls,
- Not with the empty hollowness, but weight.
- I take my leave before I have begun,
- For sorrow ends not when it seemeth done.
- Commend me to thy brother, Edmund York.
- Lo, this is all- nay, yet depart not so;
- Though this be all, do not so quickly go;
- I shall remember more. Bid him- ah, what?-
- With all good speed at Plashy visit me.
- Alack, and what shall good old York there see
- But empty lodgings and unfurnish'd walls,
- Unpeopled offices, untrodden stones?
- And what hear there for welcome but my groans?
- Therefore commend me; let him not come there
- To seek out sorrow that dwells every where.
- Desolate, desolate, will I hence and die;
- The last leave of thee takes my weeping eye. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 3.
-The lists at Coventry
-
-Enter the LORD MARSHAL and the DUKE OF AUMERLE
-
- MARSHAL. My Lord Aumerle, is Harry Hereford arm'd?
- AUMERLE. Yea, at all points; and longs to enter in.
- MARSHAL. The Duke of Norfolk, spightfully and bold,
- Stays but the summons of the appelant's trumpet.
- AUMERLE. Why then, the champions are prepar'd, and stay
- For nothing but his Majesty's approach.
-
- The trumpets sound, and the KING enters with his nobles,
- GAUNT, BUSHY, BAGOT, GREEN, and others. When they are set,
- enter MOWBRAY, Duke of Nor folk, in arms, defendant, and
- a HERALD
-
- KING RICHARD. Marshal, demand of yonder champion
- The cause of his arrival here in arms;
- Ask him his name; and orderly proceed
- To swear him in the justice of his cause.
- MARSHAL. In God's name and the King's, say who thou art,
- And why thou comest thus knightly clad in arms;
- Against what man thou com'st, and what thy quarrel.
- Speak truly on thy knighthood and thy oath;
- As so defend thee heaven and thy valour!
- MOWBRAY. My name is Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk;
- Who hither come engaged by my oath-
- Which God defend a knight should violate!-
- Both to defend my loyalty and truth
- To God, my King, and my succeeding issue,
- Against the Duke of Hereford that appeals me;
- And, by the grace of God and this mine arm,
- To prove him, in defending of myself,
- A traitor to my God, my King, and me.
- And as I truly fight, defend me heaven!
-
- The trumpets sound. Enter BOLINGBROKE, Duke of Hereford,
- appellant, in armour, and a HERALD
-
- KING RICHARD. Marshal, ask yonder knight in arms,
- Both who he is and why he cometh hither
- Thus plated in habiliments of war;
- And formally, according to our law,
- Depose him in the justice of his cause.
- MARSHAL. What is thy name? and wherefore com'st thou hither
- Before King Richard in his royal lists?
- Against whom comest thou? and what's thy quarrel?
- Speak like a true knight, so defend thee heaven!
- BOLINGBROKE. Harry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby,
- Am I; who ready here do stand in arms
- To prove, by God's grace and my body's valour,
- In lists on Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk,
- That he is a traitor, foul and dangerous,
- To God of heaven, King Richard, and to me.
- And as I truly fight, defend me heaven!
- MARSHAL. On pain of death, no person be so bold
- Or daring-hardy as to touch the lists,
- Except the Marshal and such officers
- Appointed to direct these fair designs.
- BOLINGBROKE. Lord Marshal, let me kiss my sovereign's hand,
- And bow my knee before his Majesty;
- For Mowbray and myself are like two men
- That vow a long and weary pilgrimage.
- Then let us take a ceremonious leave
- And loving farewell of our several friends.
- MARSHAL. The appellant in all duty greets your Highness,
- And craves to kiss your hand and take his leave.
- KING RICHARD. We will descend and fold him in our arms.
- Cousin of Hereford, as thy cause is right,
- So be thy fortune in this royal fight!
- Farewell, my blood; which if to-day thou shed,
- Lament we may, but not revenge thee dead.
- BOLINGBROKE. O, let no noble eye profane a tear
- For me, if I be gor'd with Mowbray's spear.
- As confident as is the falcon's flight
- Against a bird, do I with Mowbray fight.
- My loving lord, I take my leave of you;
- Of you, my noble cousin, Lord Aumerle;
- Not sick, although I have to do with death,
- But lusty, young, and cheerly drawing breath.
- Lo, as at English feasts, so I regreet
- The daintiest last, to make the end most sweet.
- O thou, the earthly author of my blood,
- Whose youthful spirit, in me regenerate,
- Doth with a twofold vigour lift me up
- To reach at victory above my head,
- Add proof unto mine armour with thy prayers,
- And with thy blessings steel my lance's point,
- That it may enter Mowbray's waxen coat
- And furbish new the name of John o' Gaunt,
- Even in the lusty haviour of his son.
- GAUNT. God in thy good cause make thee prosperous!
- Be swift like lightning in the execution,
- And let thy blows, doubly redoubled,
- Fall like amazing thunder on the casque
- Of thy adverse pernicious enemy.
- Rouse up thy youthful blood, be valiant, and live.
- BOLINGBROKE. Mine innocence and Saint George to thrive!
- MOWBRAY. However God or fortune cast my lot,
- There lives or dies, true to King Richard's throne,
- A loyal, just, and upright gentleman.
- Never did captive with a freer heart
- Cast off his chains of bondage, and embrace
- His golden uncontroll'd enfranchisement,
- More than my dancing soul doth celebrate
- This feast of battle with mine adversary.
- Most mighty liege, and my companion peers,
- Take from my mouth the wish of happy years.
- As gentle and as jocund as to jest
- Go I to fight: truth hath a quiet breast.
- KING RICHARD. Farewell, my lord, securely I espy
- Virtue with valour couched in thine eye.
- Order the trial, Marshal, and begin.
- MARSHAL. Harry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby,
- Receive thy lance; and God defend the right!
- BOLINGBROKE. Strong as a tower in hope, I cry amen.
- MARSHAL. [To an officer] Go bear this lance to Thomas,
- Duke of Norfolk.
- FIRST HERALD. Harry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby,
- Stands here for God, his sovereign, and himself,
- On pain to be found false and recreant,
- To prove the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray,
- A traitor to his God, his King, and him;
- And dares him to set forward to the fight.
- SECOND HERALD. Here standeth Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk,
- On pain to be found false and recreant,
- Both to defend himself, and to approve
- Henry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby,
- To God, his sovereign, and to him disloyal,
- Courageously and with a free desire
- Attending but the signal to begin.
- MARSHAL. Sound trumpets; and set forward, combatants.
- [A charge sounded]
- Stay, the King hath thrown his warder down.
- KING RICHARD. Let them lay by their helmets and their spears,
- And both return back to their chairs again.
- Withdraw with us; and let the trumpets sound
- While we return these dukes what we decree.
-
- A long flourish, while the KING consults his Council
-
- Draw near,
- And list what with our council we have done.
- For that our kingdom's earth should not be soil'd
- With that dear blood which it hath fostered;
- And for our eyes do hate the dire aspect
- Of civil wounds plough'd up with neighbours' sword;
- And for we think the eagle-winged pride
- Of sky-aspiring and ambitious thoughts,
- With rival-hating envy, set on you
- To wake our peace, which in our country's cradle
- Draws the sweet infant breath of gentle sleep;
- Which so rous'd up with boist'rous untun'd drums,
- With harsh-resounding trumpets' dreadful bray,
- And grating shock of wrathful iron arms,
- Might from our quiet confines fright fair peace
- And make us wade even in our kindred's blood-
- Therefore we banish you our territories.
- You, cousin Hereford, upon pain of life,
- Till twice five summers have enrich'd our fields
- Shall not regreet our fair dominions,
- But tread the stranger paths of banishment.
- BOLINGBROKE. Your will be done. This must my comfort be-
- That sun that warms you here shall shine on me,
- And those his golden beams to you here lent
- Shall point on me and gild my banishment.
- KING RICHARD. Norfolk, for thee remains a heavier doom,
- Which I with some unwillingness pronounce:
- The sly slow hours shall not determinate
- The dateless limit of thy dear exile;
- The hopeless word of 'never to return'
- Breathe I against thee, upon pain of life.
- MOWBRAY. A heavy sentence, my most sovereign liege,
- And all unlook'd for from your Highness' mouth.
- A dearer merit, not so deep a maim
- As to be cast forth in the common air,
- Have I deserved at your Highness' hands.
- The language I have learnt these forty years,
- My native English, now I must forgo;
- And now my tongue's use is to me no more
- Than an unstringed viol or a harp;
- Or like a cunning instrument cas'd up
- Or, being open, put into his hands
- That knows no touch to tune the harmony.
- Within my mouth you have engaol'd my tongue,
- Doubly portcullis'd with my teeth and lips;
- And dull, unfeeling, barren ignorance
- Is made my gaoler to attend on me.
- I am too old to fawn upon a nurse,
- Too far in years to be a pupil now.
- What is thy sentence, then, but speechless death,
- Which robs my tongue from breathing native breath?
- KING RICHARD. It boots thee not to be compassionate;
- After our sentence plaining comes too late.
- MOWBRAY. Then thus I turn me from my countrv's light,
- To dwell in solemn shades of endless night.
- KING RICHARD. Return again, and take an oath with thee.
- Lay on our royal sword your banish'd hands;
- Swear by the duty that you owe to God,
- Our part therein we banish with yourselves,
- To keep the oath that we administer:
- You never shall, so help you truth and God,
- Embrace each other's love in banishment;
- Nor never look upon each other's face;
- Nor never write, regreet, nor reconcile
- This louring tempest of your home-bred hate;
- Nor never by advised purpose meet
- To plot, contrive, or complot any ill,
- 'Gainst us, our state, our subjects, or our land.
- BOLINGBROKE. I swear.
- MOWBRAY. And I, to keep all this.
- BOLINGBROKE. Norfolk, so far as to mine enemy.
- By this time, had the King permitted us,
- One of our souls had wand'red in the air,
- Banish'd this frail sepulchre of our flesh,
- As now our flesh is banish'd from this land-
- Confess thy treasons ere thou fly the realm;
- Since thou hast far to go, bear not along
- The clogging burden of a guilty soul.
- MOWBRAY. No, Bolingbroke; if ever I were traitor,
- My name be blotted from the book of life,
- And I from heaven banish'd as from hence!
- But what thou art, God, thou, and I, do know;
- And all too soon, I fear, the King shall rue.
- Farewell, my liege. Now no way can I stray:
- Save back to England, an the world's my way. Exit
- KING RICHARD. Uncle, even in the glasses of thine eyes
- I see thy grieved heart. Thy sad aspect
- Hath from the number of his banish'd years
- Pluck'd four away. [To BOLINGBROKE] Six frozen winters spent,
- Return with welcome home from banishment.
- BOLINGBROKE. How long a time lies in one little word!
- Four lagging winters and four wanton springs
- End in a word: such is the breath of Kings.
- GAUNT. I thank my liege that in regard of me
- He shortens four years of my son's exile;
- But little vantage shall I reap thereby,
- For ere the six years that he hath to spend
- Can change their moons and bring their times about,
- My oil-dried lamp and time-bewasted light
- Shall be extinct with age and endless night;
- My inch of taper will be burnt and done,
- And blindfold death not let me see my son.
- KING RICHARD. Why, uncle, thou hast many years to live.
- GAUNT. But not a minute, King, that thou canst give:
- Shorten my days thou canst with sullen sorrow
- And pluck nights from me, but not lend a morrow;
- Thou can'st help time to furrow me with age,
- But stop no wrinkle in his pilgrimage;
- Thy word is current with him for my death,
- But dead, thy kingdom cannot buy my breath.
- KING RICHARD. Thy son is banish'd upon good advice,
- Whereto thy tongue a party-verdict gave.
- Why at our justice seem'st thou then to lour?
- GAUNT. Things sweet to taste prove in digestion sour.
- You urg'd me as a judge; but I had rather
- You would have bid me argue like a father.
- O, had it been a stranger, not my child,
- To smooth his fault I should have been more mild.
- A partial slander sought I to avoid,
- And in the sentence my own life destroy'd.
- Alas, I look'd when some of you should say
- I was too strict to make mine own away;
- But you gave leave to my unwilling tongue
- Against my will to do myself this wrong.
- KING RICHARD. Cousin, farewell; and, uncle, bid him so.
- Six years we banish him, and he shall go.
- Flourish. Exit KING with train
- AUMERLE. Cousin, farewell; what presence must not know,
- From where you do remain let paper show.
- MARSHAL. My lord, no leave take I, for I will ride
- As far as land will let me by your side.
- GAUNT. O, to what purpose dost thou hoard thy words,
- That thou returnest no greeting to thy friends?
- BOLINGBROKE. I have too few to take my leave of you,
- When the tongue's office should be prodigal
- To breathe the abundant dolour of the heart.
- GAUNT. Thy grief is but thy absence for a time.
- BOLINGBROKE. Joy absent, grief is present for that time.
- GAUNT. What is six winters? They are quickly gone.
- BOLINGBROKE. To men in joy; but grief makes one hour ten.
- GAUNT. Call it a travel that thou tak'st for pleasure.
- BOLINGBROKE. My heart will sigh when I miscall it so,
- Which finds it an enforced pilgrimage.
- GAUNT. The sullen passage of thy weary steps
- Esteem as foil wherein thou art to set
- The precious jewel of thy home return.
- BOLINGBROKE. Nay, rather, every tedious stride I make
- Will but remember me what a deal of world
- I wander from the jewels that I love.
- Must I not serve a long apprenticehood
- To foreign passages; and in the end,
- Having my freedom, boast of nothing else
- But that I was a journeyman to grief?
- GAUNT. All places that the eye of heaven visits
- Are to a wise man ports and happy havens.
- Teach thy necessity to reason thus:
- There is no virtue like necessity.
- Think not the King did banish thee,
- But thou the King. Woe doth the heavier sit
- Where it perceives it is but faintly home.
- Go, say I sent thee forth to purchase honour,
- And not the King exil'd thee; or suppose
- Devouring pestilence hangs in our air
- And thou art flying to a fresher clime.
- Look what thy soul holds dear, imagine it
- To lie that way thou goest, not whence thou com'st.
- Suppose the singing birds musicians,
- The grass whereon thou tread'st the presence strew'd,
- The flowers fair ladies, and thy steps no more
- Than a delightful measure or a dance;
- For gnarling sorrow hath less power to bite
- The man that mocks at it and sets it light.
- BOLINGBROKE. O, who can hold a fire in his hand
- By thinking on the frosty Caucasus?
- Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite
- By bare imagination of a feast?
- Or wallow naked in December snow
- By thinking on fantastic summer's heat?
- O, no! the apprehension of the good
- Gives but the greater feeling to the worse.
- Fell sorrow's tooth doth never rankle more
- Than when he bites, but lanceth not the sore.
- GAUNT. Come, come, my son, I'll bring thee on thy way.
- Had I thy youtli and cause, I would not stay.
- BOLINGBROKE. Then, England's ground, farewell; sweet soil, adieu;
- My mother, and my nurse, that bears me yet!
- Where'er I wander, boast of this I can:
- Though banish'd, yet a trueborn English man. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 4.
-London. The court
-
-Enter the KING, with BAGOT and GREEN, at one door;
-and the DUKE OF AUMERLE at another
-
- KING RICHARD. We did observe. Cousin Aumerle,
- How far brought you high Hereford on his way?
- AUMERLE. I brought high Hereford, if you call him so,
- But to the next high way, and there I left him.
- KING RICHARD. And say, what store of parting tears were shed?
- AUMERLE. Faith, none for me; except the north-east wind,
- Which then blew bitterly against our faces,
- Awak'd the sleeping rheum, and so by chance
- Did grace our hollow parting with a tear.
- KING RICHARD. What said our cousin when you parted with him?
- AUMERLE. 'Farewell.'
- And, for my heart disdained that my tongue
- Should so profane the word, that taught me craft
- To counterfeit oppression of such grief
- That words seem'd buried in my sorrow's grave.
- Marry, would the word 'farewell' have length'ned hours
- And added years to his short banishment,
- He should have had a volume of farewells;
- But since it would not, he had none of me.
- KING RICHARD. He is our cousin, cousin; but 'tis doubt,
- When time shall call him home from banishment,
- Whether our kinsman come to see his friends.
- Ourself, and Bushy, Bagot here, and Green,
- Observ'd his courtship to the common people;
- How he did seem to dive into their hearts
- With humble and familiar courtesy;
- What reverence he did throw away on slaves,
- Wooing poor craftsmen with the craft of smiles
- And patient underbearing of his fortune,
- As 'twere to banish their affects with him.
- Off goes his bonnet to an oyster-wench;
- A brace of draymen bid God speed him well
- And had the tribute of his supple knee,
- With 'Thanks, my countrymen, my loving friends';
- As were our England in reversion his,
- And he our subjects' next degree in hope.
- GREEN. Well, he is gone; and with him go these thoughts!
- Now for the rebels which stand out in Ireland,
- Expedient manage must be made, my liege,
- Ere further leisure yicld them further means
- For their advantage and your Highness' loss.
- KING RICHARD. We will ourself in person to this war;
- And, for our coffers, with too great a court
- And liberal largess, are grown somewhat light,
- We are enforc'd to farm our royal realm;
- The revenue whereof shall furnish us
- For our affairs in hand. If that come short,
- Our substitutes at home shall have blank charters;
- Whereto, when they shall know what men are rich,
- They shall subscribe them for large sums of gold,
- And send them after to supply our wants;
- For we will make for Ireland presently.
-
- Enter BUSHY
-
- Bushy, what news?
- BUSHY. Old John of Gaunt is grievous sick, my lord,
- Suddenly taken; and hath sent poste-haste
- To entreat your Majesty to visit him.
- KING RICHARD. Where lies he?
- BUSHY. At Ely House.
- KING RICHARD. Now put it, God, in the physician's mind
- To help him to his grave immediately!
- The lining of his coffers shall make coats
- To deck our soldiers for these Irish wars.
- Come, gentlemen, let's all go visit him.
- Pray God we may make haste, and come too late!
- ALL. Amen. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
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-
-ACT II. SCENE I.
-London. Ely House
-
-Enter JOHN OF GAUNT, sick, with the DUKE OF YORK, etc.
-
- GAUNT. Will the King come, that I may breathe my last
- In wholesome counsel to his unstaid youth?
- YORK. Vex not yourself, nor strive not with your breath;
- For all in vain comes counsel to his ear.
- GAUNT. O, but they say the tongues of dying men
- Enforce attention like deep harmony.
- Where words are scarce, they are seldom spent in vain;
- For they breathe truth that breathe their words -in pain.
- He that no more must say is listen'd more
- Than they whom youth and ease have taught to glose;
- More are men's ends mark'd than their lives before.
- The setting sun, and music at the close,
- As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last,
- Writ in remembrance more than things long past.
- Though Richard my life's counsel would not hear,
- My death's sad tale may yet undeaf his ear.
- YORK. No; it is stopp'd with other flattering sounds,
- As praises, of whose taste the wise are fond,
- Lascivious metres, to whose venom sound
- The open ear of youth doth always listen;
- Report of fashions in proud Italy,
- Whose manners still our tardy apish nation
- Limps after in base imitation.
- Where doth the world thrust forth a vanity-
- So it be new, there's no respect how vile-
- That is not quickly buzz'd into his ears?
- Then all too late comes counsel to be heard
- Where will doth mutiny with wit's regard.
- Direct not him whose way himself will choose.
- 'Tis breath thou lack'st, and that breath wilt thou lose.
- GAUNT. Methinks I am a prophet new inspir'd,
- And thus expiring do foretell of him:
- His rash fierce blaze of riot cannot last,
- For violent fires soon burn out themselves;
- Small showers last long, but sudden storms are short;
- He tires betimes that spurs too fast betimes;
- With eager feeding food doth choke the feeder;
- Light vanity, insatiate cormorant,
- Consuming means, soon preys upon itself.
- This royal throne of kings, this scept'red isle,
- This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars,
- This other Eden, demi-paradise,
- This fortress built by Nature for herself
- Against infection and the hand of war,
- This happy breed of men, this little world,
- This precious stone set in the silver sea,
- Which serves it in the office of a wall,
- Or as a moat defensive to a house,
- Against the envy of less happier lands;
- This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England,
- This nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings,
- Fear'd by their breed, and famous by their birth,
- Renowned for their deeds as far from home,
- For Christian service and true chivalry,
- As is the sepulchre in stubborn Jewry
- Of the world's ransom, blessed Mary's Son;
- This land of such dear souls, this dear dear land,
- Dear for her reputation through the world,
- Is now leas'd out-I die pronouncing it-
- Like to a tenement or pelting farm.
- England, bound in with the triumphant sea,
- Whose rocky shore beats back the envious siege
- Of wat'ry Neptune, is now bound in with shame,
- With inky blots and rotten parchment bonds;
- That England, that was wont to conquer others,
- Hath made a shameful conquest of itself.
- Ah, would the scandal vanish with my life,
- How happy then were my ensuing death!
-
- Enter KING and QUEEN, AUMERLE, BUSHY, GREEN, BAGOT,
- Ross, and WILLOUGHBY
-
- YORK. The King is come; deal mildly with his youth,
- For young hot colts being rag'd do rage the more.
- QUEEN. How fares our noble uncle Lancaster?
- KING RICHARD. What comfort, man? How is't with aged Gaunt?
- GAUNT. O, how that name befits my composition!
- Old Gaunt, indeed; and gaunt in being old.
- Within me grief hath kept a tedious fast;
- And who abstains from meat that is not gaunt?
- For sleeping England long time have I watch'd;
- Watching breeds leanness, leanness is an gaunt.
- The pleasure that some fathers feed upon
- Is my strict fast-I mean my children's looks;
- And therein fasting, hast thou made me gaunt.
- Gaunt am I for the grave, gaunt as a grave,
- Whose hollow womb inherits nought but bones.
- KING RICHARD. Can sick men play so nicely with their names?
- GAUNT. No, misery makes sport to mock itself:
- Since thou dost seek to kill my name in me,
- I mock my name, great king, to flatter thee.
- KING RICHARD. Should dying men flatter with those that live?
- GAUNT. No, no; men living flatter those that die.
- KING RICHARD. Thou, now a-dying, sayest thou flatterest me.
- GAUNT. O, no! thou diest, though I the sicker be.
- KING RICHARD. I am in health, I breathe, and see thee ill.
- GAUNT. Now He that made me knows I see thee ill;
- Ill in myself to see, and in thee seeing ill.
- Thy death-bed is no lesser than thy land
- Wherein thou liest in reputation sick;
- And thou, too careless patient as thou art,
- Commit'st thy anointed body to the cure
- Of those physicians that first wounded thee:
- A thousand flatterers sit within thy crown,
- Whose compass is no bigger than thy head;
- And yet, incaged in so small a verge,
- The waste is no whit lesser than thy land.
- O, had thy grandsire with a prophet's eye
- Seen how his son's son should destroy his sons,
- From forth thy reach he would have laid thy shame,
- Deposing thee before thou wert possess'd,
- Which art possess'd now to depose thyself.
- Why, cousin, wert thou regent of the world,
- It were a shame to let this land by lease;
- But for thy world enjoying but this land,
- Is it not more than shame to shame it so?
- Landlord of England art thou now, not King.
- Thy state of law is bondslave to the law;
- And thou-
- KING RICHARD. A lunatic lean-witted fool,
- Presuming on an ague's privilege,
- Darest with thy frozen admonition
- Make pale our cheek, chasing the royal blood
- With fury from his native residence.
- Now by my seat's right royal majesty,
- Wert thou not brother to great Edward's son,
- This tongue that runs so roundly in thy head
- Should run thy head from thy unreverent shoulders.
- GAUNT. O, Spare me not, my brother Edward's son,
- For that I was his father Edward's son;
- That blood already, like the pelican,
- Hast thou tapp'd out, and drunkenly carous'd.
- My brother Gloucester, plain well-meaning soul-
- Whom fair befall in heaven 'mongst happy souls!-
- May be a precedent and witness good
- That thou respect'st not spilling Edward's blood.
- Join with the present sickness that I have;
- And thy unkindness be like crooked age,
- To crop at once a too long withered flower.
- Live in thy shame, but die not shame with thee!
- These words hereafter thy tormentors be!
- Convey me to my bed, then to my grave.
- Love they to live that love and honour have.
- Exit, borne out by his attendants
- KING RICHARD. And let them die that age and sullens have;
- For both hast thou, and both become the grave.
- YORK. I do beseech your Majesty impute his words
- To wayward sickliness and age in him.
- He loves you, on my life, and holds you dear
- As Harry Duke of Hereford, were he here.
- KING RICHARD. Right, you say true: as Hereford's love, so his;
- As theirs, so mine; and all be as it is.
-
- Enter NORTHUMBERLAND
-
- NORTHUMBERLAND. My liege, old Gaunt commends him to your Majesty.
- KING RICHARD. What says he?
- NORTHUMBERLAND. Nay, nothing; all is said.
- His tongue is now a stringless instrument;
- Words, life, and all, old Lancaster hath spent.
- YORK. Be York the next that must be bankrupt so!
- Though death be poor, it ends a mortal woe.
- KING RICHARD. The ripest fruit first falls, and so doth he;
- His time is spent, our pilgrimage must be.
- So much for that. Now for our Irish wars.
- We must supplant those rough rug-headed kerns,
- Which live like venom where no venom else
- But only they have privilege to live.
- And for these great affairs do ask some charge,
- Towards our assistance we do seize to us
- The plate, coin, revenues, and moveables,
- Whereof our uncle Gaunt did stand possess'd.
- YORK. How long shall I be patient? Ah, how long
- Shall tender duty make me suffer wrong?
- Not Gloucester's death, nor Hereford's banishment,
- Nor Gaunt's rebukes, nor England's private wrongs,
- Nor the prevention of poor Bolingbroke
- About his marriage, nor my own disgrace,
- Have ever made me sour my patient cheek
- Or bend one wrinkle on my sovereign's face.
- I am the last of noble Edward's sons,
- Of whom thy father, Prince of Wales, was first.
- In war was never lion rag'd more fierce,
- In peace was never gentle lamb more mild,
- Than was that young and princely gentleman.
- His face thou hast, for even so look'd he,
- Accomplish'd with the number of thy hours;
- But when he frown'd, it was against the French
- And not against his friends. His noble hand
- Did win what he did spend, and spent not that
- Which his triumphant father's hand had won.
- His hands were guilty of no kindred blood,
- But bloody with the enemies of his kin.
- O Richard! York is too far gone with grief,
- Or else he never would compare between-
- KING RICHARD. Why, uncle, what's the matter?
- YORK. O my liege,
- Pardon me, if you please; if not, I, pleas'd
- Not to be pardoned, am content withal.
- Seek you to seize and gripe into your hands
- The royalties and rights of banish'd Hereford?
- Is not Gaunt dead? and doth not Hereford live?
- Was not Gaunt just? and is not Harry true?
- Did not the one deserve to have an heir?
- Is not his heir a well-deserving son?
- Take Hereford's rights away, and take from Time
- His charters and his customary rights;
- Let not to-morrow then ensue to-day;
- Be not thyself-for how art thou a king
- But by fair sequence and succession?
- Now, afore God-God forbid I say true!-
- If you do wrongfully seize Hereford's rights,
- Call in the letters patents that he hath
- By his attorneys-general to sue
- His livery, and deny his off'red homage,
- You pluck a thousand dangers on your head,
- You lose a thousand well-disposed hearts,
- And prick my tender patience to those thoughts
- Which honour and allegiance cannot think.
- KING RICHARD. Think what you will, we seize into our hands
- His plate, his goods, his money, and his lands.
- YORK. I'll not be by the while. My liege, farewell.
- What will ensue hereof there's none can tell;
- But by bad courses may be understood
- That their events can never fall out good. Exit
- KING RICHARD. Go, Bushy, to the Earl of Wiltshire straight;
- Bid him repair to us to Ely House
- To see this business. To-morrow next
- We will for Ireland; and 'tis time, I trow.
- And we create, in absence of ourself,
- Our Uncle York Lord Governor of England;
- For he is just, and always lov'd us well.
- Come on, our queen; to-morrow must we part;
- Be merry, for our time of stay is short.
- Flourish. Exeunt KING, QUEEN, BUSHY, AUMERLE,
- GREEN, and BAGOT
- NORTHUMBERLAND. Well, lords, the Duke of Lancaster is dead.
- Ross. And living too; for now his son is Duke.
- WILLOUGHBY. Barely in title, not in revenues.
- NORTHUMBERLAND. Richly in both, if justice had her right.
- ROSS. My heart is great; but it must break with silence,
- Ere't be disburdened with a liberal tongue.
- NORTHUMBERLAND. Nay, speak thy mind; and let him ne'er speak more
- That speaks thy words again to do thee harm!
- WILLOUGHBY. Tends that thou wouldst speak to the Duke of Hereford?
- If it be so, out with it boldly, man;
- Quick is mine ear to hear of good towards him.
- ROSS. No good at all that I can do for him;
- Unless you call it good to pity him,
- Bereft and gelded of his patrimony.
- NORTHUMBERLAND. Now, afore God, 'tis shame such wrongs are borne
- In him, a royal prince, and many moe
- Of noble blood in this declining land.
- The King is not himself, but basely led
- By flatterers; and what they will inform,
- Merely in hate, 'gainst any of us an,
- That will the King severely prosecute
- 'Gainst us, our lives, our children, and our heirs.
- ROSS. The commons hath he pill'd with grievous taxes;
- And quite lost their hearts; the nobles hath he find
- For ancient quarrels and quite lost their hearts.
- WILLOUGHBY. And daily new exactions are devis'd,
- As blanks, benevolences, and I wot not what;
- But what, a God's name, doth become of this?
- NORTHUMBERLAND. Wars hath not wasted it, for warr'd he hath not,
- But basely yielded upon compromise
- That which his noble ancestors achiev'd with blows.
- More hath he spent in peace than they in wars.
- ROSS. The Earl of Wiltshire hath the realm in farm.
- WILLOUGHBY. The King's grown bankrupt like a broken man.
- NORTHUMBERLAND. Reproach and dissolution hangeth over him.
- ROSS. He hath not money for these Irish wars,
- His burdenous taxations notwithstanding,
- But by the robbing of the banish'd Duke.
- NORTHUMBERLAND. His noble kinsman-most degenerate king!
- But, lords, we hear this fearful tempest sing,
- Yet seek no shelter to avoid the storm;
- We see the wind sit sore upon our sails,
- And yet we strike not, but securely perish.
- ROSS. We see the very wreck that we must suffer;
- And unavoided is the danger now
- For suffering so the causes of our wreck.
- NORTHUMBERLAND. Not so; even through the hollow eyes of death
- I spy life peering; but I dare not say
- How near the tidings of our comfort is.
- WILLOUGHBY. Nay, let us share thy thoughts as thou dost ours.
- ROSS. Be confident to speak, Northumberland.
- We three are but thyself, and, speaking so,
- Thy words are but as thoughts; therefore be bold.
- NORTHUMBERLAND. Then thus: I have from Le Port Blanc, a bay
- In Brittany, receiv'd intelligence
- That Harry Duke of Hereford, Rainold Lord Cobham,
- That late broke from the Duke of Exeter,
- His brother, Archbishop late of Canterbury,
- Sir Thomas Erpingham, Sir John Ramston,
- Sir John Norbery, Sir Robert Waterton, and Francis Quoint-
- All these, well furnish'd by the Duke of Britaine,
- With eight tall ships, three thousand men of war,
- Are making hither with all due expedience,
- And shortly mean to touch our northern shore.
- Perhaps they had ere this, but that they stay
- The first departing of the King for Ireland.
- If then we shall shake off our slavish yoke,
- Imp out our drooping country's broken wing,
- Redeem from broking pawn the blemish'd crown,
- Wipe off the dust that hides our sceptre's gilt,
- And make high majesty look like itself,
- Away with me in post to Ravenspurgh;
- But if you faint, as fearing to do so,
- Stay and be secret, and myself will go.
- ROSS. To horse, to horse! Urge doubts to them that fear.
- WILLOUGHBY. Hold out my horse, and I will first be there.
- Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 2.
-Windsor Castle
-
-Enter QUEEN, BUSHY, and BAGOT
-
- BUSHY. Madam, your Majesty is too much sad.
- You promis'd, when you parted with the King,
- To lay aside life-harming heaviness
- And entertain a cheerful disposition.
- QUEEN. To please the King, I did; to please myself
- I cannot do it; yet I know no cause
- Why I should welcome such a guest as grief,
- Save bidding farewell to so sweet a guest
- As my sweet Richard. Yet again methinks
- Some unborn sorrow, ripe in fortune's womb,
- Is coming towards me, and my inward soul
- With nothing trembles. At some thing it grieves
- More than with parting from my lord the King.
- BUSHY. Each substance of a grief hath twenty shadows,
- Which shows like grief itself, but is not so;
- For sorrow's eye, glazed with blinding tears,
- Divides one thing entire to many objects,
- Like perspectives which, rightly gaz'd upon,
- Show nothing but confusion-ey'd awry,
- Distinguish form. So your sweet Majesty,
- Looking awry upon your lord's departure,
- Find shapes of grief more than himself to wail;
- Which, look'd on as it is, is nought but shadows
- Of what it is not. Then, thrice-gracious Queen,
- More than your lord's departure weep not-more is not seen;
- Or if it be, 'tis with false sorrow's eye,
- Which for things true weeps things imaginary.
- QUEEN. It may be so; but yet my inward soul
- Persuades me it is otherwise. Howe'er it be,
- I cannot but be sad; so heavy sad
- As-though, on thinking, on no thought I think-
- Makes me with heavy nothing faint and shrink.
- BUSHY. 'Tis nothing but conceit, my gracious lady.
- QUEEN. 'Tis nothing less: conceit is still deriv'd
- From some forefather grief; mine is not so,
- For nothing hath begot my something grief,
- Or something hath the nothing that I grieve;
- 'Tis in reversion that I do possess-
- But what it is that is not yet known what,
- I cannot name; 'tis nameless woe, I wot.
-
- Enter GREEN
-
- GREEN. God save your Majesty! and well met, gentlemen.
- I hope the King is not yet shipp'd for Ireland.
- QUEEN. Why hopest thou so? 'Tis better hope he is;
- For his designs crave haste, his haste good hope.
- Then wherefore dost thou hope he is not shipp'd?
- GREEN. That he, our hope, might have retir'd his power
- And driven into despair an enemy's hope
- Who strongly hath set footing in this land.
- The banish'd Bolingbroke repeals himself,
- And with uplifted arms is safe arriv'd
- At Ravenspurgh.
- QUEEN. Now God in heaven forbid!
- GREEN. Ah, madam, 'tis too true; and that is worse,
- The Lord Northumberland, his son young Henry Percy,
- The Lords of Ross, Beaumond, and Willoughby,
- With all their powerful friends, are fled to him.
- BUSHY. Why have you not proclaim'd Northumberland
- And all the rest revolted faction traitors?
- GREEN. We have; whereupon the Earl of Worcester
- Hath broken his staff, resign'd his stewardship,
- And all the household servants fled with him
- To Bolingbroke.
- QUEEN. So, Green, thou art the midwife to my woe,
- And Bolingbroke my sorrow's dismal heir.
- Now hath my soul brought forth her prodigy;
- And I, a gasping new-deliver'd mother,
- Have woe to woe, sorrow to sorrow join'd.
- BUSHY. Despair not, madam.
- QUEEN. Who shall hinder me?
- I will despair, and be at enmity
- With cozening hope-he is a flatterer,
- A parasite, a keeper-back of death,
- Who gently would dissolve the bands of life,
- Which false hope lingers in extremity.
-
- Enter YORK
-
- GREEN. Here comes the Duke of York.
- QUEEN. With signs of war about his aged neck.
- O, full of careful business are his looks!
- Uncle, for God's sake, speak comfortable words.
- YORK. Should I do so, I should belie my thoughts.
- Comfort's in heaven; and we are on the earth,
- Where nothing lives but crosses, cares, and grief.
- Your husband, he is gone to save far off,
- Whilst others come to make him lose at home.
- Here am I left to underprop his land,
- Who, weak with age, cannot support myself.
- Now comes the sick hour that his surfeit made;
- Now shall he try his friends that flatter'd him.
-
- Enter a SERVINGMAN
-
- SERVINGMAN. My lord, your son was gone before I came.
- YORK. He was-why so go all which way it will!
- The nobles they are fled, the commons they are cold
- And will, I fear, revolt on Hereford's side.
- Sirrah, get thee to Plashy, to my sister Gloucester;
- Bid her send me presently a thousand pound.
- Hold, take my ring.
- SERVINGMAN. My lord, I had forgot to tell your lordship,
- To-day, as I came by, I called there-
- But I shall grieve you to report the rest.
- YORK. What is't, knave?
- SERVINGMAN. An hour before I came, the Duchess died.
- YORK. God for his mercy! what a tide of woes
- Comes rushing on this woeful land at once!
- I know not what to do. I would to God,
- So my untruth had not provok'd him to it,
- The King had cut off my head with my brother's.
- What, are there no posts dispatch'd for Ireland?
- How shall we do for money for these wars?
- Come, sister-cousin, I would say-pray, pardon me.
- Go, fellow, get thee home, provide some carts,
- And bring away the armour that is there.
- Exit SERVINGMAN
- Gentlemen, will you go muster men?
- If I know how or which way to order these affairs
- Thus disorderly thrust into my hands,
- Never believe me. Both are my kinsmen.
- T'one is my sovereign, whom both my oath
- And duty bids defend; t'other again
- Is my kinsman, whom the King hath wrong'd,
- Whom conscience and my kindred bids to right.
- Well, somewhat we must do.-Come, cousin,
- I'll dispose of you. Gentlemen, go muster up your men
- And meet me presently at Berkeley.
- I should to Plashy too,
- But time will not permit. All is uneven,
- And everything is left at six and seven.
- Exeunt YORK and QUEEN
- BUSHY. The wind sits fair for news to go to Ireland.
- But none returns. For us to levy power
- Proportionable to the enemy
- Is all unpossible.
- GREEN. Besides, our nearness to the King in love
- Is near the hate of those love not the King.
- BAGOT. And that is the wavering commons; for their love
- Lies in their purses; and whoso empties them,
- By so much fills their hearts with deadly hate.
- BUSHY. Wherein the King stands generally condemn'd.
- BAGOT. If judgment lie in them, then so do we,
- Because we ever have been near the King.
- GREEN. Well, I will for refuge straight to Bristow Castle.
- The Earl of Wiltshire is already there.
- BUSHY. Thither will I with you; for little office
- Will the hateful commons perform for us,
- Except Eke curs to tear us all to pieces.
- Will you go along with us?
- BAGOT. No; I will to Ireland to his Majesty.
- Farewell. If heart's presages be not vain,
- We three here part that ne'er shall meet again.
- BUSHY. That's as York thrives to beat back Bolingbroke.
- GREEN. Alas, poor Duke! the task he undertakes
- Is numb'ring sands and drinking oceans dry.
- Where one on his side fights, thousands will fly.
- Farewell at once-for once, for all, and ever.
- BUSHY. Well, we may meet again.
- BAGOT. I fear me, never. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 3.
-Gloucestershire
-
-Enter BOLINGBROKE and NORTHUMBERLAND, forces
-
- BOLINGBROKE. How far is it, my lord, to Berkeley now?
- NORTHUMBERLAND. Believe me, noble lord,
- I am a stranger here in Gloucestershire.
- These high wild hills and rough uneven ways
- Draws out our miles, and makes them wearisome;
- And yet your fair discourse hath been as sugar,
- Making the hard way sweet and delectable.
- But I bethink me what a weary way
- From Ravenspurgh to Cotswold will be found
- In Ross and Willoughby, wanting your company,
- Which, I protest, hath very much beguil'd
- The tediousness and process of my travel.
- But theirs is sweet'ned with the hope to have
- The present benefit which I possess;
- And hope to joy is little less in joy
- Than hope enjoy'd. By this the weary lords
- Shall make their way seem short, as mine hath done
- By sight of what I have, your noble company.
- BOLINGBROKE. Of much less value is my company
- Than your good words. But who comes here?
-
- Enter HARRY PERCY
-
- NORTHUMBERLAND. It is my son, young Harry Percy,
- Sent from my brother Worcester, whencesoever.
- Harry, how fares your uncle?
- PERCY. I had thought, my lord, to have learn'd his health of you.
- NORTHUMBERLAND. Why, is he not with the Queen?
- PERCY. No, my good lord; he hath forsook the court,
- Broken his staff of office, and dispers'd
- The household of the King.
- NORTHUMBERLAND. What was his reason?
- He was not so resolv'd when last we spake together.
- PERCY. Because your lordship was proclaimed traitor.
- But he, my lord, is gone to Ravenspurgh,
- To offer service to the Duke of Hereford;
- And sent me over by Berkeley, to discover
- What power the Duke of York had levied there;
- Then with directions to repair to Ravenspurgh.
- NORTHUMBERLAND. Have you forgot the Duke of Hereford, boy?
- PERCY. No, my good lord; for that is not forgot
- Which ne'er I did remember; to my knowledge,
- I never in my life did look on him.
- NORTHUMBERLAND. Then learn to know him now; this is the Duke.
- PERCY. My gracious lord, I tender you my service,
- Such as it is, being tender, raw, and young;
- Which elder days shall ripen, and confirm
- To more approved service and desert.
- BOLINGBROKE. I thank thee, gentle Percy; and be sure
- I count myself in nothing else so happy
- As in a soul rememb'ring my good friends;
- And as my fortune ripens with thy love,
- It shall be still thy true love's recompense.
- My heart this covenant makes, my hand thus seals it.
- NORTHUMBERLAND. How far is it to Berkeley? And what stir
- Keeps good old York there with his men of war?
- PERCY. There stands the castle, by yon tuft of trees,
- Mann'd with three hundred men, as I have heard;
- And in it are the Lords of York, Berkeley, and Seymour-
- None else of name and noble estimate.
-
- Enter Ross and WILLOUGHBY
-
- NORTHUMBERLAND. Here come the Lords of Ross and Willoughby,
- Bloody with spurring, fiery-red with haste.
- BOLINGBROKE. Welcome, my lords. I wot your love pursues
- A banish'd traitor. All my treasury
- Is yet but unfelt thanks, which, more enrich'd,
- Shall be your love and labour's recompense.
- ROSS. Your presence makes us rich, most noble lord.
- WILLOUGHBY. And far surmounts our labour to attain it.
- BOLINGBROKE. Evermore thanks, the exchequer of the poor;
- Which, till my infant fortune comes to years,
- Stands for my bounty. But who comes here?
-
- Enter BERKELEY
-
- NORTHUMBERLAND. It is my Lord of Berkeley, as I guess.
- BERKELEY. My Lord of Hereford, my message is to you.
- BOLINGBROKE. My lord, my answer is-'to Lancaster';
- And I am come to seek that name in England;
- And I must find that title in your tongue
- Before I make reply to aught you say.
- BERKELEY. Mistake me not, my lord; 'tis not my meaning
- To raze one title of your honour out.
- To you, my lord, I come-what lord you will-
- From the most gracious regent of this land,
- The Duke of York, to know what pricks you on
- To take advantage of the absent time,
- And fright our native peace with self-borne arms.
-
- Enter YORK, attended
-
- BOLINGBROKE. I shall not need transport my words by you;
- Here comes his Grace in person. My noble uncle!
- [Kneels]
- YORK. Show me thy humble heart, and not thy knee,
- Whose duty is deceivable and false.
- BOLINGBROKE. My gracious uncle!-
- YORK. Tut, tut!
- Grace me no grace, nor uncle me no uncle.
- I am no traitor's uncle; and that word 'grace'
- In an ungracious mouth is but profane.
- Why have those banish'd and forbidden legs
- Dar'd once to touch a dust of England's ground?
- But then more 'why?'-why have they dar'd to march
- So many miles upon her peaceful bosom,
- Frighting her pale-fac'd villages with war
- And ostentation of despised arms?
- Com'st thou because the anointed King is hence?
- Why, foolish boy, the King is left behind,
- And in my loyal bosom lies his power.
- Were I but now lord of such hot youth
- As when brave Gaunt, thy father, and myself
- Rescued the Black Prince, that young Mars of men,
- From forth the ranks of many thousand French,
- O, then how quickly should this arm of mine,
- Now prisoner to the palsy, chastise the
- And minister correction to thy fault!
- BOLINGBROKE My gracious uncle, let me know my fault;
- On what condition stands it and wherein?
- YORK. Even in condition of the worst degree-
- In gross rebellion and detested treason.
- Thou art a banish'd man, and here art come
- Before the expiration of thy time,
- In braving arms against thy sovereign.
- BOLINGBROKE. As I was banish'd, I was banish'd Hereford;
- But as I come, I come for Lancaster.
- And, noble uncle, I beseech your Grace
- Look on my wrongs with an indifferent eye.
- You are my father, for methinks in you
- I see old Gaunt alive. O, then, my father,
- Will you permit that I shall stand condemn'd
- A wandering vagabond; my rights and royalties
- Pluck'd from my arms perforce, and given away
- To upstart unthrifts? Wherefore was I born?
- If that my cousin king be King in England,
- It must be granted I am Duke of Lancaster.
- You have a son, Aumerle, my noble cousin;
- Had you first died, and he been thus trod down,
- He should have found his uncle Gaunt a father
- To rouse his wrongs and chase them to the bay.
- I am denied to sue my livery here,
- And yet my letters patents give me leave.
- My father's goods are all distrain'd and sold;
- And these and all are all amiss employ'd.
- What would you have me do? I am a subject,
- And I challenge law-attorneys are denied me;
- And therefore personally I lay my claim
- To my inheritance of free descent.
- NORTHUMBERLAND. The noble Duke hath been too much abused.
- ROSS. It stands your Grace upon to do him right.
- WILLOUGHBY. Base men by his endowments are made great.
- YORK. My lords of England, let me tell you this:
- I have had feeling of my cousin's wrongs,
- And labour'd all I could to do him right;
- But in this kind to come, in braving arms,
- Be his own carver and cut out his way,
- To find out right with wrong-it may not be;
- And you that do abet him in this kind
- Cherish rebellion, and are rebels all.
- NORTHUMBERLAND. The noble Duke hath sworn his coming is
- But for his own; and for the right of that
- We all have strongly sworn to give him aid;
- And let him never see joy that breaks that oath!
- YORK. Well, well, I see the issue of these arms.
- I cannot mend it, I must needs confess,
- Because my power is weak and all ill left;
- But if I could, by Him that gave me life,
- I would attach you all and make you stoop
- Unto the sovereign mercy of the King;
- But since I cannot, be it known unto you
- I do remain as neuter. So, fare you well;
- Unless you please to enter in the castle,
- And there repose you for this night.
- BOLINGBROKE. An offer, uncle, that we will accept.
- But we must win your Grace to go with us
- To Bristow Castle, which they say is held
- By Bushy, Bagot, and their complices,
- The caterpillars of the commonwealth,
- Which I have sworn to weed and pluck away.
- YORK. It may be I will go with you; but yet I'll pause,
- For I am loath to break our country's laws.
- Nor friends nor foes, to me welcome you are.
- Things past redress are now with me past care. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 4.
-A camp in Wales
-
-Enter EARL OF SALISBURY and a WELSH CAPTAIN
-
- CAPTAIN. My Lord of Salisbury, we have stay'd ten days
- And hardly kept our countrymen together,
- And yet we hear no tidings from the King;
- Therefore we will disperse ourselves. Farewell.
- SALISBURY. Stay yet another day, thou trusty Welshman;
- The King reposeth all his confidence in thee.
- CAPTAIN. 'Tis thought the King is dead; we will not stay.
- The bay trees in our country are all wither'd,
- And meteors fright the fixed stars of heaven;
- The pale-fac'd moon looks bloody on the earth,
- And lean-look'd prophets whisper fearful change;
- Rich men look sad, and ruffians dance and leap-
- The one in fear to lose what they enjoy,
- The other to enjoy by rage and war.
- These signs forerun the death or fall of kings.
- Farewell. Our countrymen are gone and fled,
- As well assur'd Richard their King is dead. Exit
- SALISBURY. Ah, Richard, with the eyes of heavy mind,
- I see thy glory like a shooting star
- Fall to the base earth from the firmament!
- The sun sets weeping in the lowly west,
- Witnessing storms to come, woe, and unrest;
- Thy friends are fled, to wait upon thy foes;
- And crossly to thy good all fortune goes. Exit
-
-
-
-
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-
-ACT III. SCENE I.
-BOLINGBROKE'S camp at Bristol
-
-Enter BOLINGBROKE, YORK, NORTHUMBERLAND, PERCY, ROSS, WILLOUGHBY,
-BUSHY and GREEN, prisoners
-
- BOLINGBROKE. Bring forth these men.
- Bushy and Green, I will not vex your souls-
- Since presently your souls must part your bodies-
- With too much urging your pernicious lives,
- For 'twere no charity; yet, to wash your blood
- From off my hands, here in the view of men
- I will unfold some causes of your deaths:
- You have misled a prince, a royal king,
- A happy gentleman in blood and lineaments,
- By you unhappied and disfigured clean;
- You have in manner with your sinful hours
- Made a divorce betwixt his queen and him;
- Broke the possession of a royal bed,
- And stain'd the beauty of a fair queen's cheeks
- With tears drawn from her eyes by your foul wrongs;
- Myself-a prince by fortune of my birth,
- Near to the King in blood, and near in love
- Till you did make him misinterpret me-
- Have stoop'd my neck under your injuries
- And sigh'd my English breath in foreign clouds,
- Eating the bitter bread of banishment,
- Whilst you have fed upon my signories,
- Dispark'd my parks and fell'd my forest woods,
- From my own windows torn my household coat,
- Raz'd out my imprese, leaving me no sign
- Save men's opinions and my living blood
- To show the world I am a gentleman.
- This and much more, much more than twice all this,
- Condemns you to the death. See them delivered over
- To execution and the hand of death.
- BUSHY. More welcome is the stroke of death to me
- Than Bolingbroke to England. Lords, farewell.
- GREEN. My comfort is that heaven will take our souls,
- And plague injustice with the pains of hell.
- BOLINGBROKE. My Lord Northumberland, see them dispatch'd.
- Exeunt NORTHUMBERLAND, and others, with the prisoners
- Uncle, you say the Queen is at your house;
- For God's sake, fairly let her be entreated.
- Tell her I send to her my kind commends;
- Take special care my greetings be delivered.
- YORK. A gentleman of mine I have dispatch'd
- With letters of your love to her at large.
- BOLINGBROKE. Thanks, gentle uncle. Come, lords, away,
- To fight with Glendower and his complices.
- Awhile to work, and after holiday. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 2.
-The coast of Wales. A castle in view
-
-Drums. Flourish and colours. Enter the KING, the BISHOP OF CARLISLE,
-AUMERLE, and soldiers
-
- KING RICHARD. Barkloughly Castle can they this at hand?
- AUMERLE. Yea, my lord. How brooks your Grace the air
- After your late tossing on the breaking seas?
- KING RICHARD. Needs must I like it well. I weep for joy
- To stand upon my kingdom once again.
- Dear earth, I do salute thee with my hand,
- Though rebels wound thee with their horses' hoofs.
- As a long-parted mother with her child
- Plays fondly with her tears and smiles in meeting,
- So weeping-smiling greet I thee, my earth,
- And do thee favours with my royal hands.
- Feed not thy sovereign's foe, my gentle earth,
- Nor with thy sweets comfort his ravenous sense;
- But let thy spiders, that suck up thy venom,
- And heavy-gaited toads, lie in their way,
- Doing annoyance to the treacherous feet
- Which with usurping steps do trample thee;
- Yield stinging nettles to mine enemies;
- And when they from thy bosom pluck a flower,
- Guard it, I pray thee, with a lurking adder,
- Whose double tongue may with a mortal touch
- Throw death upon thy sovereign's enemies.
- Mock not my senseless conjuration, lords.
- This earth shall have a feeling, and these stones
- Prove armed soldiers, ere her native king
- Shall falter under foul rebellion's arms.
- CARLISLE. Fear not, my lord; that Power that made you king
- Hath power to keep you king in spite of all.
- The means that heaven yields must be embrac'd
- And not neglected; else, if heaven would,
- And we will not, heaven's offer we refuse,
- The proffered means of succour and redress.
- AUMERLE. He means, my lord, that we are too remiss;
- Whilst Bolingbroke, through our security,
- Grows strong and great in substance and in power.
- KING RICHARD. Discomfortable cousin! know'st thou not
- That when the searching eye of heaven is hid,
- Behind the globe, that lights the lower world,
- Then thieves and robbers range abroad unseen
- In murders and in outrage boldly here;
- But when from under this terrestrial ball
- He fires the proud tops of the eastern pines
- And darts his light through every guilty hole,
- Then murders, treasons, and detested sins,
- The cloak of night being pluck'd from off their backs,
- Stand bare and naked, trembling at themselves?
- So when this thief, this traitor, Bolingbroke,
- Who all this while hath revell'd in the night,
- Whilst we were wand'ring with the Antipodes,
- Shall see us rising in our throne, the east,
- His treasons will sit blushing in his face,
- Not able to endure the sight of day,
- But self-affrighted tremble at his sin.
- Not all the water in the rough rude sea
- Can wash the balm off from an anointed king;
- The breath of worldly men cannot depose
- The deputy elected by the Lord.
- For every man that Bolingbroke hath press'd
- To lift shrewd steel against our golden crown,
- God for his Richard hath in heavenly pay
- A glorious angel. Then, if angels fight,
- Weak men must fall; for heaven still guards the right.
-
- Enter SALISBURY
-
- Welcome, my lord. How far off lies your power?
- SALISBURY. Nor near nor farther off, my gracious lord,
- Than this weak arm. Discomfort guides my tongue,
- And bids me speak of nothing but despair.
- One day too late, I fear me, noble lord,
- Hath clouded all thy happy days on earth.
- O, call back yesterday, bid time return,
- And thou shalt have twelve thousand fighting men!
- To-day, to-day, unhappy day, too late,
- O'erthrows thy joys, friends, fortune, and thy state;
- For all the Welshmen, hearing thou wert dead,
- Are gone to Bolingbroke, dispers'd, and fled.
- AUMERLE. Comfort, my liege, why looks your Grace so pale?
- KING RICHARD. But now the blood of twenty thousand men
- Did triumph in my face, and they are fled;
- And, till so much blood thither come again,
- Have I not reason to look pale and dead?
- All souls that will be safe, fly from my side;
- For time hath set a blot upon my pride.
- AUMERLE. Comfort, my liege; remember who you are.
- KING RICHARD. I had forgot myself; am I not King?
- Awake, thou coward majesty! thou sleepest.
- Is not the King's name twenty thousand names?
- Arm, arm, my name! a puny subject strikes
- At thy great glory. Look not to the ground,
- Ye favourites of a king; are we not high?
- High be our thoughts. I know my uncle York
- Hath power enough to serve our turn. But who comes here?
-
- Enter SCROOP
-
- SCROOP. More health and happiness betide my liege
- Than can my care-tun'd tongue deliver him.
- KING RICHARD. Mine ear is open and my heart prepar'd.
- The worst is worldly loss thou canst unfold.
- Say, is my kingdom lost? Why, 'twas my care,
- And what loss is it to be rid of care?
- Strives Bolingbroke to be as great as we?
- Greater he shall not be; if he serve God,
- We'll serve him too, and be his fellow so.
- Revolt our subjects? That we cannot mend;
- They break their faith to God as well as us.
- Cry woe, destruction, ruin, and decay-
- The worst is death, and death will have his day.
- SCROOP. Glad am I that your Highness is so arm'd
- To bear the tidings of calamity.
- Like an unseasonable stormy day
- Which makes the silver rivers drown their shores,
- As if the world were all dissolv'd to tears,
- So high above his limits swells the rage
- Of Bolingbroke, covering your fearful land
- With hard bright steel and hearts harder than steel.
- White-beards have arm'd their thin and hairless scalps
- Against thy majesty; boys, with women's voices,
- Strive to speak big, and clap their female joints
- In stiff unwieldy arms against thy crown;
- Thy very beadsmen learn to bend their bows
- Of double-fatal yew against thy state;
- Yea, distaff-women manage rusty bills
- Against thy seat: both young and old rebel,
- And all goes worse than I have power to tell.
- KING RICHARD. Too well, too well thou tell'st a tale so in.
- Where is the Earl of Wiltshire? Where is Bagot?
- What is become of Bushy? Where is Green?
- That they have let the dangerous enemy
- Measure our confines with such peaceful steps?
- If we prevail, their heads shall pay for it.
- I warrant they have made peace with Bolingbroke.
- SCROOP. Peace have they made with him indeed, my lord.
- KING RICHARD. O villains, vipers, damn'd without redemption!
- Dogs, easily won to fawn on any man!
- Snakes, in my heart-blood warm'd, that sting my heart!
- Three Judases, each one thrice worse than Judas!
- Would they make peace? Terrible hell make war
- Upon their spotted souls for this offence!
- SCROOP. Sweet love, I see, changing his property,
- Turns to the sourest and most deadly hate.
- Again uncurse their souls; their peace is made
- With heads, and not with hands; those whom you curse
- Have felt the worst of death's destroying wound
- And lie full low, grav'd in the hollow ground.
- AUMERLE. Is Bushy, Green, and the Earl of Wiltshire dead?
- SCROOP. Ay, all of them at Bristow lost their heads.
- AUMERLE. Where is the Duke my father with his power?
- KING RICHARD. No matter where-of comfort no man speak.
- Let's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs;
- Make dust our paper, and with rainy eyes
- Write sorrow on the bosom of the earth.
- Let's choose executors and talk of wills;
- And yet not so-for what can we bequeath
- Save our deposed bodies to the ground?
- Our lands, our lives, and an, are Bolingbroke's.
- And nothing can we can our own but death
- And that small model of the barren earth
- Which serves as paste and cover to our bones.
- For God's sake let us sit upon the ground
- And tell sad stories of the death of kings:
- How some have been depos'd, some slain in war,
- Some haunted by the ghosts they have depos'd,
- Some poison'd by their wives, some sleeping kill'd,
- All murder'd-for within the hollow crown
- That rounds the mortal temples of a king
- Keeps Death his court; and there the antic sits,
- Scoffing his state and grinning at his pomp;
- Allowing him a breath, a little scene,
- To monarchize, be fear'd, and kill with looks;
- Infusing him with self and vain conceit,
- As if this flesh which walls about our life
- Were brass impregnable; and, humour'd thus,
- Comes at the last, and with a little pin
- Bores through his castle wall, and farewell, king!
- Cover your heads, and mock not flesh and blood
- With solemn reverence; throw away respect,
- Tradition, form, and ceremonious duty;
- For you have but mistook me all this while.
- I live with bread like you, feel want,
- Taste grief, need friends: subjected thus,
- How can you say to me I am a king?
- CARLISLE. My lord, wise men ne'er sit and wail their woes,
- But presently prevent the ways to wail.
- To fear the foe, since fear oppresseth strength,
- Gives, in your weakness, strength unto your foe,
- And so your follies fight against yourself.
- Fear and be slain-no worse can come to fight;
- And fight and die is death destroying death,
- Where fearing dying pays death servile breath.
- AUMERLE. My father hath a power; inquire of him,
- And learn to make a body of a limb.
- KING RICHARD. Thou chid'st me well. Proud Bolingbroke, I come
- To change blows with thee for our day of doom.
- This ague fit of fear is over-blown;
- An easy task it is to win our own.
- Say, Scroop, where lies our uncle with his power?
- Speak sweetly, man, although thy looks be sour.
- SCROOP. Men judge by the complexion of the sky
- The state in inclination of the day;
- So may you by my dull and heavy eye,
- My tongue hath but a heavier tale to say.
- I play the torturer, by small and small
- To lengthen out the worst that must be spoken:
- Your uncle York is join'd with Bolingbroke;
- And all your northern castles yielded up,
- And all your southern gentlemen in arms
- Upon his party.
- KING RICHARD. Thou hast said enough.
- [To AUMERLE] Beshrew thee, cousin, which didst lead me forth
- Of that sweet way I was in to despair!
- What say you now? What comfort have we now?
- By heaven, I'll hate him everlastingly
- That bids me be of comfort any more.
- Go to Flint Castle; there I'll pine away;
- A king, woe's slave, shall kingly woe obey.
- That power I have, discharge; and let them go
- To ear the land that hath some hope to grow,
- For I have none. Let no man speak again
- To alter this, for counsel is but vain.
- AUMERLE. My liege, one word.
- KING RICHARD. He does me double wrong
- That wounds me with the flatteries of his tongue.
- Discharge my followers; let them hence away,
- From Richard's night to Bolingbroke's fair day. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 3.
-Wales. Before Flint Castle
-
-Enter, with drum and colours, BOLINGBROKE, YORK, NORTHUMBERLAND,
-and forces
-
- BOLINGBROKE. So that by this intelligence we learn
- The Welshmen are dispers'd; and Salisbury
- Is gone to meet the King, who lately landed
- With some few private friends upon this coast.
- NORTHUMBERLAND. The news is very fair and good, my lord.
- Richard not far from hence hath hid his head.
- YORK. It would beseem the Lord Northumberland
- To say 'King Richard.' Alack the heavy day
- When such a sacred king should hide his head!
- NORTHUMBERLAND. Your Grace mistakes; only to be brief,
- Left I his title out.
- YORK. The time hath been,
- Would you have been so brief with him, he would
- Have been so brief with you to shorten you,
- For taking so the head, your whole head's length.
- BOLINGBROKE. Mistake not, uncle, further than you should.
- YORK. Take not, good cousin, further than you should,
- Lest you mistake. The heavens are over our heads.
- BOLINGBROKE. I know it, uncle; and oppose not myself
- Against their will. But who comes here?
-
- Enter PERCY
-
- Welcome, Harry. What, will not this castle yield?
- PIERCY. The castle royally is mann'd, my lord,
- Against thy entrance.
- BOLINGBROKE. Royally!
- Why, it contains no king?
- PERCY. Yes, my good lord,
- It doth contain a king; King Richard lies
- Within the limits of yon lime and stone;
- And with him are the Lord Aumerle, Lord Salisbury,
- Sir Stephen Scroop, besides a clergyman
- Of holy reverence; who, I cannot learn.
- NORTHUMBERLAND. O, belike it is the Bishop of Carlisle.
- BOLINGBROKE. [To NORTHUMBERLAND] Noble lord,
- Go to the rude ribs of that ancient castle;
- Through brazen trumpet send the breath of parley
- Into his ruin'd ears, and thus deliver:
- Henry Bolingbroke
- On both his knees doth kiss King Richard's hand,
- And sends allegiance and true faith of heart
- To his most royal person; hither come
- Even at his feet to lay my arms and power,
- Provided that my banishment repeal'd
- And lands restor'd again be freely granted;
- If not, I'll use the advantage of my power
- And lay the summer's dust with showers of blood
- Rain'd from the wounds of slaughtered Englishmen;
- The which how far off from the mind of Bolingbroke
- It is such crimson tempest should bedrench
- The fresh green lap of fair King Richard's land,
- My stooping duty tenderly shall show.
- Go, signify as much, while here we march
- Upon the grassy carpet of this plain.
- [NORTHUMBERLAND advances to the Castle, with a trumpet]
- Let's march without the noise of threat'ning drum,
- That from this castle's tottered battlements
- Our fair appointments may be well perus'd.
- Methinks King Richard and myself should meet
- With no less terror than the elements
- Of fire and water, when their thund'ring shock
- At meeting tears the cloudy cheeks of heaven.
- Be he the fire, I'll be the yielding water;
- The rage be his, whilst on the earth I rain
- My waters-on the earth, and not on him.
- March on, and mark King Richard how he looks.
-
- Parle without, and answer within; then a flourish.
- Enter on the walls, the KING, the BISHOP OF CARLISLE,
- AUMERLE, SCROOP, and SALISBURY
-
- See, see, King Richard doth himself appear,
- As doth the blushing discontented sun
- From out the fiery portal of the east,
- When he perceives the envious clouds are bent
- To dim his glory and to stain the track
- Of his bright passage to the occident.
- YORK. Yet he looks like a king. Behold, his eye,
- As bright as is the eagle's, lightens forth
- Controlling majesty. Alack, alack, for woe,
- That any harm should stain so fair a show!
- KING RICHARD. [To NORTHUMBERLAND] We are amaz'd; and thus long
- have we stood
- To watch the fearful bending of thy knee,
- Because we thought ourself thy lawful King;
- And if we be, how dare thy joints forget
- To pay their awful duty to our presence?
- If we be not, show us the hand of God
- That hath dismiss'd us from our stewardship;
- For well we know no hand of blood and bone
- Can gripe the sacred handle of our sceptre,
- Unless he do profane, steal, or usurp.
- And though you think that all, as you have done,
- Have torn their souls by turning them from us,
- And we are barren and bereft of friends,
- Yet know-my master, God omnipotent,
- Is mustering in his clouds on our behalf
- Armies of pestilence; and they shall strike
- Your children yet unborn and unbegot,
- That lift your vassal hands against my head
- And threat the glory of my precious crown.
- Tell Bolingbroke, for yon methinks he stands,
- That every stride he makes upon my land
- Is dangerous treason; he is come to open
- The purple testament of bleeding war;
- But ere the crown he looks for live in peace,
- Ten thousand bloody crowns of mothers' sons
- Shall ill become the flower of England's face,
- Change the complexion of her maid-pale peace
- To scarlet indignation, and bedew
- Her pastures' grass with faithful English blood.
- NORTHUMBERLAND. The King of Heaven forbid our lord the King
- Should so with civil and uncivil arms
- Be rush'd upon! Thy thrice noble cousin,
- Harry Bolingbroke, doth humbly kiss thy hand;
- And by the honourable tomb he swears
- That stands upon your royal grandsire's bones,
- And by the royalties of both your bloods,
- Currents that spring from one most gracious head,
- And by the buried hand of warlike Gaunt,
- And by the worth and honour of himself,
- Comprising all that may be sworn or said,
- His coming hither hath no further scope
- Than for his lineal royalties, and to beg
- Enfranchisement immediate on his knees;
- Which on thy royal party granted once,
- His glittering arms he will commend to rust,
- His barbed steeds to stables, and his heart
- To faithful service of your Majesty.
- This swears he, as he is a prince, is just;
- And as I am a gentleman I credit him.
- KING RICHARD. Northumberland, say thus the King returns:
- His noble cousin is right welcome hither;
- And all the number of his fair demands
- Shall be accomplish'd without contradiction.
- With all the gracious utterance thou hast
- Speak to his gentle hearing kind commends.
- [To AUMERLE] We do debase ourselves, cousin, do we not,
- To look so poorly and to speak so fair?
- Shall we call back Northumberland, and send
- Defiance to the traitor, and so die?
- AUMERLE. No, good my lord; let's fight with gentle words
- Till time lend friends, and friends their helpful swords.
- KING RICHARD. O God, O God! that e'er this tongue of mine
- That laid the sentence of dread banishment
- On yon proud man should take it off again
- With words of sooth! O that I were as great
- As is my grief, or lesser than my name!
- Or that I could forget what I have been!
- Or not remember what I must be now!
- Swell'st thou, proud heart? I'll give thee scope to beat,
- Since foes have scope to beat both thee and me.
- AUMERLE. Northumberland comes back from Bolingbroke.
- KING RICHARD. What must the King do now? Must he submit?
- The King shall do it. Must he be depos'd?
- The King shall be contented. Must he lose
- The name of king? A God's name, let it go.
- I'll give my jewels for a set of beads,
- My gorgeous palace for a hermitage,
- My gay apparel for an almsman's gown,
- My figur'd goblets for a dish of wood,
- My sceptre for a palmer's walking staff,
- My subjects for a pair of carved saints,
- And my large kingdom for a little grave,
- A little little grave, an obscure grave-
- Or I'll be buried in the king's high way,
- Some way of common trade, where subjects' feet
- May hourly trample on their sovereign's head;
- For on my heart they tread now whilst I live,
- And buried once, why not upon my head?
- Aumerle, thou weep'st, my tender-hearted cousin!
- We'll make foul weather with despised tears;
- Our sighs and they shall lodge the summer corn
- And make a dearth in this revolting land.
- Or shall we play the wantons with our woes
- And make some pretty match with shedding tears?
- As thus: to drop them still upon one place
- Till they have fretted us a pair of graves
- Within the earth; and, therein laid-there lies
- Two kinsmen digg'd their graves with weeping eyes.
- Would not this ill do well? Well, well, I see
- I talk but idly, and you laugh at me.
- Most mighty prince, my Lord Northumberland,
- What says King Bolingbroke? Will his Majesty
- Give Richard leave to live till Richard die?
- You make a leg, and Bolingbroke says ay.
- NORTHUMBERLAND. My lord, in the base court he doth attend
- To speak with you; may it please you to come down?
- KING RICHARD. Down, down I come, like glist'ring Phaethon,
- Wanting the manage of unruly jades.
- In the base court? Base court, where kings grow base,
- To come at traitors' calls, and do them grace.
- In the base court? Come down? Down, court! down, king!
- For night-owls shriek where mounting larks should sing.
- Exeunt from above
- BOLINGBROKE. What says his Majesty?
- NORTHUMBERLAND. Sorrow and grief of heart
- Makes him speak fondly, like a frantic man;
- Yet he is come.
-
- Enter the KING, and his attendants, below
-
- BOLINGBROKE. Stand all apart,
- And show fair duty to his Majesty. [He kneels down]
- My gracious lord-
- KING RICHARD. Fair cousin, you debase your princely knee
- To make the base earth proud with kissing it.
- Me rather had my heart might feel your love
- Than my unpleas'd eye see your courtesy.
- Up, cousin, up; your heart is up, I know,
- [Touching his own head] Thus high at least, although your
- knee be low.
- BOLINGBROKE. My gracious lord, I come but for mine own.
- KING RICHARD. Your own is yours, and I am yours, and all.
- BOLINGBROKE. So far be mine, my most redoubted lord,
- As my true service shall deserve your love.
- KING RICHARD. Well you deserve. They well deserve to have
- That know the strong'st and surest way to get.
- Uncle, give me your hands; nay, dry your eyes:
- Tears show their love, but want their remedies.
- Cousin, I am too young to be your father,
- Though you are old enough to be my heir.
- What you will have, I'll give, and willing too;
- For do we must what force will have us do.
- Set on towards London. Cousin, is it so?
- BOLINGBROKE. Yea, my good lord.
- KING RICHARD. Then I must not say no. Flourish. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 4.
-The DUKE OF YORK's garden
-
-Enter the QUEEN and two LADIES
-
- QUEEN. What sport shall we devise here in this garden
- To drive away the heavy thought of care?
- LADY. Madam, we'll play at bowls.
- QUEEN. 'Twill make me think the world is full of rubs
- And that my fortune runs against the bias.
- LADY. Madam, we'll dance.
- QUEEN. My legs can keep no measure in delight,
- When my poor heart no measure keeps in grief;
- Therefore no dancing, girl; some other sport.
- LADY. Madam, we'll tell tales.
- QUEEN. Of sorrow or of joy?
- LADY. Of either, madam.
- QUEEN. Of neither, girl;
- For if of joy, being altogether wanting,
- It doth remember me the more of sorrow;
- Or if of grief, being altogether had,
- It adds more sorrow to my want of joy;
- For what I have I need not to repeat,
- And what I want it boots not to complain.
- LADY. Madam, I'll sing.
- QUEEN. 'Tis well' that thou hast cause;
- But thou shouldst please me better wouldst thou weep.
- LADY. I could weep, madam, would it do you good.
- QUEEN. And I could sing, would weeping do me good,
- And never borrow any tear of thee.
-
- Enter a GARDENER and two SERVANTS
-
- But stay, here come the gardeners.
- Let's step into the shadow of these trees.
- My wretchedness unto a row of pins,
- They will talk of state, for every one doth so
- Against a change: woe is forerun with woe.
- [QUEEN and LADIES retire]
- GARDENER. Go, bind thou up yon dangling apricocks,
- Which, like unruly children, make their sire
- Stoop with oppression of their prodigal weight;
- Give some supportance to the bending twigs.
- Go thou, and Eke an executioner
- Cut off the heads of too fast growing sprays
- That look too lofty in our commonwealth:
- All must be even in our government.
- You thus employ'd, I will go root away
- The noisome weeds which without profit suck
- The soil's fertility from wholesome flowers.
- SERVANT. Why should we, in the compass of a pale,
- Keep law and form and due proportion,
- Showing, as in a model, our firm estate,
- When our sea-walled garden, the whole land,
- Is full of weeds; her fairest flowers chok'd up,
- Her fruit trees all unprun'd, her hedges ruin'd,
- Her knots disordered, and her wholesome herbs
- Swarming with caterpillars?
- GARDENER. Hold thy peace.
- He that hath suffer'd this disorder'd spring
- Hath now himself met with the fall of leaf;
- The weeds which his broad-spreading leaves did shelter,
- That seem'd in eating him to hold him up,
- Are pluck'd up root and all by Bolingbroke-
- I mean the Earl of Wiltshire, Bushy, Green.
- SERVANT. What, are they dead?
- GARDENER. They are; and Bolingbroke
- Hath seiz'd the wasteful King. O, what pity is it
- That he had not so trimm'd and dress'd his land
- As we this garden! We at time of year
- Do wound the bark, the skin of our fruit trees,
- Lest, being over-proud in sap and blood,
- With too much riches it confound itself;
- Had he done so to great and growing men,
- They might have Ev'd to bear, and he to taste
- Their fruits of duty. Superfluous branches
- We lop away, that bearing boughs may live;
- Had he done so, himself had home the crown,
- Which waste of idle hours hath quite thrown down.
- SERVANT. What, think you the King shall be deposed?
- GARDENER. Depress'd he is already, and depos'd
- 'Tis doubt he will be. Letters came last night
- To a dear friend of the good Duke of York's
- That tell black tidings.
- QUEEN. O, I am press'd to death through want of speaking!
- [Coming forward]
- Thou, old Adam's likeness, set to dress this garden,
- How dares thy harsh rude tongue sound this unpleasing news?
- What Eve, what serpent, hath suggested the
- To make a second fall of cursed man?
- Why dost thou say King Richard is depos'd?
- Dar'st thou, thou little better thing than earth,
- Divine his downfall? Say, where, when, and how,
- Cam'st thou by this ill tidings? Speak, thou wretch.
- GARDENER. Pardon me, madam; little joy have
- To breathe this news; yet what I say is true.
- King Richard, he is in the mighty hold
- Of Bolingbroke. Their fortunes both are weigh'd.
- In your lord's scale is nothing but himself,
- And some few vanities that make him light;
- But in the balance of great Bolingbroke,
- Besides himself, are all the English peers,
- And with that odds he weighs King Richard down.
- Post you to London, and you will find it so;
- I speak no more than every one doth know.
- QUEEN. Nimble mischance, that art so light of foot,
- Doth not thy embassage belong to me,
- And am I last that knows it? O, thou thinkest
- To serve me last, that I may longest keep
- Thy sorrow in my breast. Come, ladies, go
- To meet at London London's King in woe.
- What, was I born to this, that my sad look
- Should grace the triumph of great Bolingbroke?
- Gard'ner, for telling me these news of woe,
- Pray God the plants thou graft'st may never grow!
- Exeunt QUEEN and LADIES
- GARDENER. Poor Queen, so that thy state might be no worse,
- I would my skill were subject to thy curse.
- Here did she fall a tear; here in this place
- I'll set a bank of rue, sour herb of grace.
- Rue, even for ruth, here shortly shall be seen,
- In the remembrance of a weeping queen. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
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-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-ACT IV. SCENE 1.
-Westminster Hall
-
-Enter, as to the Parliament, BOLINGBROKE, AUMERLE, NORTHUMBERLAND, PERCY,
-FITZWATER, SURREY, the BISHOP OF CARLISLE, the ABBOT OF WESTMINSTER,
-and others; HERALD, OFFICERS, and BAGOT
-
- BOLINGBROKE. Call forth Bagot.
- Now, Bagot, freely speak thy mind-
- What thou dost know of noble Gloucester's death;
- Who wrought it with the King, and who perform'd
- The bloody office of his timeless end.
- BAGOT. Then set before my face the Lord Aumerle.
- BOLINGBROKE. Cousin, stand forth, and look upon that man.
- BAGOT. My Lord Aumerle, I know your daring tongue
- Scorns to unsay what once it hath deliver'd.
- In that dead time when Gloucester's death was plotted
- I heard you say 'Is not my arm of length,
- That reacheth from the restful English Court
- As far as Calais, to mine uncle's head?'
- Amongst much other talk that very time
- I heard you say that you had rather refuse
- The offer of an hundred thousand crowns
- Than Bolingbroke's return to England;
- Adding withal, how blest this land would be
- In this your cousin's death.
- AUMERLE. Princes, and noble lords,
- What answer shall I make to this base man?
- Shall I so much dishonour my fair stars
- On equal terms to give him chastisement?
- Either I must, or have mine honour soil'd
- With the attainder of his slanderous lips.
- There is my gage, the manual seal of death
- That marks thee out for hell. I say thou liest,
- And will maintain what thou hast said is false
- In thy heart-blood, through being all too base
- To stain the temper of my knightly sword.
- BOLINGBROKE. Bagot, forbear; thou shalt not take it up.
- AUMERLE. Excepting one, I would he were the best
- In all this presence that hath mov'd me so.
- FITZWATER. If that thy valour stand on sympathy,
- There is my gage, Aumerle, in gage to thine.
- By that fair sun which shows me where thou stand'st,
- I heard thee say, and vauntingly thou spak'st it,
- That thou wert cause of noble Gloucester's death.
- If thou deniest it twenty times, thou liest;
- And I will turn thy falsehood to thy heart,
- Where it was forged, with my rapier's point.
- AUMERLE. Thou dar'st not, coward, live to see that day.
- FITZWATER. Now, by my soul, I would it were this hour.
- AUMERLE. Fitzwater, thou art damn'd to hell for this.
- PERCY. Aumerle, thou liest; his honour is as true
- In this appeal as thou art an unjust;
- And that thou art so, there I throw my gage,
- To prove it on thee to the extremest point
- Of mortal breathing. Seize it, if thou dar'st.
- AUMERLE. An if I do not, may my hands rot of
- And never brandish more revengeful steel
- Over the glittering helmet of my foe!
- ANOTHER LORD. I task the earth to the like, forsworn Aumerle;
- And spur thee on with fun as many lies
- As may be halloa'd in thy treacherous ear
- From sun to sun. There is my honour's pawn;
- Engage it to the trial, if thou darest.
- AUMERLE. Who sets me else? By heaven, I'll throw at all!
- I have a thousand spirits in one breast
- To answer twenty thousand such as you.
- SURREY. My Lord Fitzwater, I do remember well
- The very time Aumerle and you did talk.
- FITZWATER. 'Tis very true; you were in presence then,
- And you can witness with me this is true.
- SURREY. As false, by heaven, as heaven itself is true.
- FITZWATER. Surrey, thou liest.
- SURREY. Dishonourable boy!
- That lie shall lie so heavy on my sword
- That it shall render vengeance and revenge
- Till thou the lie-giver and that lie do he
- In earth as quiet as thy father's skull.
- In proof whereof, there is my honour's pawn;
- Engage it to the trial, if thou dar'st.
- FITZWATER. How fondly dost thou spur a forward horse!
- If I dare eat, or drink, or breathe, or live,
- I dare meet Surrey in a wilderness,
- And spit upon him whilst I say he lies,
- And lies, and lies. There is my bond of faith,
- To tie thee to my strong correction.
- As I intend to thrive in this new world,
- Aumerle is guilty of my true appeal.
- Besides, I heard the banish'd Norfolk say
- That thou, Aumerle, didst send two of thy men
- To execute the noble Duke at Calais.
- AUMERLE. Some honest Christian trust me with a gage
- That Norfolk lies. Here do I throw down this,
- If he may be repeal'd to try his honour.
- BOLINGBROKE. These differences shall all rest under gage
- Till Norfolk be repeal'd-repeal'd he shall be
- And, though mine enemy, restor'd again
- To all his lands and signories. When he is return'd,
- Against Aumerle we will enforce his trial.
- CARLISLE. That honourable day shall never be seen.
- Many a time hath banish'd Norfolk fought
- For Jesu Christ in glorious Christian field,
- Streaming the ensign of the Christian cross
- Against black pagans, Turks, and Saracens;
- And, toil'd with works of war, retir'd himself
- To Italy; and there, at Venice, gave
- His body to that pleasant country's earth,
- And his pure soul unto his captain, Christ,
- Under whose colours he had fought so long.
- BOLINGBROKE. Why, Bishop, is Norfolk dead?
- CARLISLE. As surely as I live, my lord.
- BOLINGBROKE. Sweet peace conduct his sweet soul to the bosom
- Of good old Abraham! Lords appellants,
- Your differences shall all rest under gage
- Till we assign you to your days of trial
-
- Enter YORK, attended
-
- YORK. Great Duke of Lancaster, I come to the
- From plume-pluck'd Richard, who with willing soul
- Adopts thee heir, and his high sceptre yields
- To the possession of thy royal hand.
- Ascend his throne, descending now from him-
- And long live Henry, fourth of that name!
- BOLINGBROKE. In God's name, I'll ascend the regal throne.
- CARLISLE. Marry, God forbid!
- Worst in this royal presence may I speak,
- Yet best beseeming me to speak the truth.
- Would God that any in this noble presence
- Were enough noble to be upright judge
- Of noble Richard! Then true noblesse would
- Learn him forbearance from so foul a wrong.
- What subject can give sentence on his king?
- And who sits here that is not Richard's subject?
- Thieves are not judg'd but they are by to hear,
- Although apparent guilt be seen in them;
- And shall the figure of God's majesty,
- His captain, steward, deputy elect,
- Anointed, crowned, planted many years,
- Be judg'd by subject and inferior breath,
- And he himself not present? O, forfend it, God,
- That in a Christian climate souls refin'd
- Should show so heinous, black, obscene a deed!
- I speak to subjects, and a subject speaks,
- Stirr'd up by God, thus boldly for his king.
- My Lord of Hereford here, whom you call king,
- Is a foul traitor to proud Hereford's king;
- And if you crown him, let me prophesy-
- The blood of English shall manure the ground,
- And future ages groan for this foul act;
- Peace shall go sleep with Turks and infidels,
- And in this seat of peace tumultuous wars
- Shall kin with kin and kind with kind confound;
- Disorder, horror, fear, and mutiny,
- Shall here inhabit, and this land be call'd
- The field of Golgotha and dead men's skulls.
- O, if you raise this house against this house,
- It will the woefullest division prove
- That ever fell upon this cursed earth.
- Prevent it, resist it, let it not be so,
- Lest child, child's children, cry against you woe.
- NORTHUMBERLAND. Well have you argued, sir; and, for your pains,
- Of capital treason we arrest you here.
- My Lord of Westminster, be it your charge
- To keep him safely till his day of trial.
- May it please you, lords, to grant the commons' suit?
- BOLINGBROKE. Fetch hither Richard, that in common view
- He may surrender; so we shall proceed
- Without suspicion.
- YORK. I will be his conduct. Exit
- BOLINGBROKE. Lords, you that here are under our arrest,
- Procure your sureties for your days of answer.
- Little are we beholding to your love,
- And little look'd for at your helping hands.
-
- Re-enter YORK, with KING RICHARD, and OFFICERS
- bearing the regalia
-
- KING RICHARD. Alack, why am I sent for to a king,
- Before I have shook off the regal thoughts
- Wherewith I reign'd? I hardly yet have learn'd
- To insinuate, flatter, bow, and bend my knee.
- Give sorrow leave awhile to tutor me
- To this submission. Yet I well remember
- The favours of these men. Were they not mine?
- Did they not sometime cry 'All hail!' to me?
- So Judas did to Christ; but he, in twelve,
- Found truth in all but one; I, in twelve thousand, none.
- God save the King! Will no man say amen?
- Am I both priest and clerk? Well then, amen.
- God save the King! although I be not he;
- And yet, amen, if heaven do think him me.
- To do what service am I sent for hither?
- YORK. To do that office of thine own good will
- Which tired majesty did make thee offer-
- The resignation of thy state and crown
- To Henry Bolingbroke.
- KING RICHARD. Give me the crown. Here, cousin, seize the crown.
- Here, cousin,
- On this side my hand, and on that side thine.
- Now is this golden crown like a deep well
- That owes two buckets, filling one another;
- The emptier ever dancing in the air,
- The other down, unseen, and full of water.
- That bucket down and fun of tears am I,
- Drinking my griefs, whilst you mount up on high.
- BOLINGBROKE. I thought you had been willing to resign.
- KING RICHARD. My crown I am; but still my griefs are mine.
- You may my glories and my state depose,
- But not my griefs; still am I king of those.
- BOLINGBROKE. Part of your cares you give me with your crown.
- KING RICHARD. Your cares set up do not pluck my cares down.
- My care is loss of care, by old care done;
- Your care is gain of care, by new care won.
- The cares I give I have, though given away;
- They tend the crown, yet still with me they stay.
- BOLINGBROKE. Are you contented to resign the crown?
- KING RICHARD. Ay, no; no, ay; for I must nothing be;
- Therefore no no, for I resign to thee.
- Now mark me how I will undo myself:
- I give this heavy weight from off my head,
- And this unwieldy sceptre from my hand,
- The pride of kingly sway from out my heart;
- With mine own tears I wash away my balm,
- With mine own hands I give away my crown,
- With mine own tongue deny my sacred state,
- With mine own breath release all duteous oaths;
- All pomp and majesty I do forswear;
- My manors, rents, revenues, I forgo;
- My acts, decrees, and statutes, I deny.
- God pardon all oaths that are broke to me!
- God keep all vows unbroke are made to thee!
- Make me, that nothing have, with nothing griev'd,
- And thou with all pleas'd, that hast an achiev'd.
- Long mayst thou live in Richard's seat to sit,
- And soon lie Richard in an earthly pit.
- God save King Henry, unking'd Richard says,
- And send him many years of sunshine days!
- What more remains?
- NORTHUMBERLAND. No more; but that you read
- These accusations, and these grievous crimes
- Committed by your person and your followers
- Against the state and profit of this land;
- That, by confessing them, the souls of men
- May deem that you are worthily depos'd.
- KING RICHARD. Must I do so? And must I ravel out
- My weav'd-up follies? Gentle Northumberland,
- If thy offences were upon record,
- Would it not shame thee in so fair a troop
- To read a lecture of them? If thou wouldst,
- There shouldst thou find one heinous article,
- Containing the deposing of a king
- And cracking the strong warrant of an oath,
- Mark'd with a blot, damn'd in the book of heaven.
- Nay, all of you that stand and look upon me
- Whilst that my wretchedness doth bait myself,
- Though some of you, with Pilate, wash your hands,
- Showing an outward pity-yet you Pilates
- Have here deliver'd me to my sour cross,
- And water cannot wash away your sin.
- NORTHUMBERLAND. My lord, dispatch; read o'er these
- articles.
- KING RICHARD. Mine eyes are full of tears; I cannot see.
- And yet salt water blinds them not so much
- But they can see a sort of traitors here.
- Nay, if I turn mine eyes upon myself,
- I find myself a traitor with the rest;
- For I have given here my soul's consent
- T'undeck the pompous body of a king;
- Made glory base, and sovereignty a slave,
- Proud majesty a subject, state a peasant.
- NORTHUMBERLAND. My lord-
- KING RICHARD. No lord of thine, thou haught insulting man,
- Nor no man's lord; I have no name, no tide-
- No, not that name was given me at the font-
- But 'tis usurp'd. Alack the heavy day,
- That I have worn so many winters out,
- And know not now what name to call myself!
- O that I were a mockery king of snow,
- Standing before the sun of Bolingbroke
- To melt myself away in water drops!
- Good king, great king, and yet not greatly good,
- An if my word be sterling yet in England,
- Let it command a mirror hither straight,
- That it may show me what a face I have
- Since it is bankrupt of his majesty.
- BOLINGBROKE. Go some of you and fetch a looking-glass.
- Exit an attendant
- NORTHUMBERLAND. Read o'er this paper while the glass doth come.
- KING RICHARD. Fiend, thou torments me ere I come to hell.
- BOLINGBROKE. Urge it no more, my Lord Northumberland.
- NORTHUMBERLAND. The Commons will not, then, be satisfied.
- KING RICHARD. They shall be satisfied. I'll read enough,
- When I do see the very book indeed
- Where all my sins are writ, and that's myself.
-
- Re-enter attendant with glass
-
- Give me that glass, and therein will I read.
- No deeper wrinkles yet? Hath sorrow struck
- So many blows upon this face of mine
- And made no deeper wounds? O flatt'ring glass,
- Like to my followers in prosperity,
- Thou dost beguile me! Was this face the face
- That every day under his household roof
- Did keep ten thousand men? Was this the face
- That like the sun did make beholders wink?
- Is this the face which fac'd so many follies
- That was at last out-fac'd by Bolingbroke?
- A brittle glory shineth in this face;
- As brittle as the glory is the face;
- [Dashes the glass against the ground]
- For there it is, crack'd in a hundred shivers.
- Mark, silent king, the moral of this sport-
- How soon my sorrow hath destroy'd my face.
- BOLINGBROKE. The shadow of your sorrow hath destroy'd
- The shadow of your face.
- KING RICHARD. Say that again.
- The shadow of my sorrow? Ha! let's see.
- 'Tis very true: my grief lies all within;
- And these external manner of laments
- Are merely shadows to the unseen grief
- That swells with silence in the tortur'd soul.
- There lies the substance; and I thank thee, king,
- For thy great bounty, that not only giv'st
- Me cause to wail, but teachest me the way
- How to lament the cause. I'll beg one boon,
- And then be gone and trouble you no more.
- Shall I obtain it?
- BOLINGBROKE. Name it, fair cousin.
- KING RICHARD. Fair cousin! I am greater than a king;
- For when I was a king, my flatterers
- Were then but subjects; being now a subject,
- I have a king here to my flatterer.
- Being so great, I have no need to beg.
- BOLINGBROKE. Yet ask.
- KING RICHARD. And shall I have?
- BOLINGBROKE. You shall.
- KING RICHARD. Then give me leave to go.
- BOLINGBROKE. Whither?
- KING RICHARD. Whither you will, so I were from your sights.
- BOLINGBROKE. Go, some of you convey him to the Tower.
- KING RICHARD. O, good! Convey! Conveyers are you all,
- That rise thus nimbly by a true king's fall.
- Exeunt KING RICHARD, some Lords and a Guard
- BOLINGBROKE. On Wednesday next we solemnly set down
- Our coronation. Lords, prepare yourselves.
- Exeunt all but the ABBOT OF WESTMINSTER, the
- BISHOP OF CARLISLE, and AUMERLE
- ABBOT. A woeful pageant have we here beheld.
- CARLISLE. The woe's to come; the children yet unborn
- Shall feel this day as sharp to them as thorn.
- AUMERLE. You holy clergymen, is there no plot
- To rid the realm of this pernicious blot?
- ABBOT. My lord,
- Before I freely speak my mind herein,
- You shall not only take the sacrament
- To bury mine intents, but also to effect
- Whatever I shall happen to devise.
- I see your brows are full of discontent,
- Your hearts of sorrow, and your eyes of tears.
- Come home with me to supper; I will lay
- A plot shall show us all a merry day. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-ACT V. SCENE 1.
-London. A street leading to the Tower
-
-Enter the QUEEN, with her attendants
-
- QUEEN. This way the King will come; this is the way
- To Julius Caesar's ill-erected tower,
- To whose flint bosom my condemned lord
- Is doom'd a prisoner by proud Bolingbroke.
- Here let us rest, if this rebellious earth
- Have any resting for her true King's queen.
-
- Enter KING RICHARD and Guard
-
- But soft, but see, or rather do not see,
- My fair rose wither. Yet look up, behold,
- That you in pity may dissolve to dew,
- And wash him fresh again with true-love tears.
- Ah, thou, the model where old Troy did stand;
- Thou map of honour, thou King Richard's tomb,
- And not King Richard; thou most beauteous inn,
- Why should hard-favour'd grief be lodg'd in thee,
- When triumph is become an alehouse guest?
- KING RICHARD. Join not with grief, fair woman, do not so,
- To make my end too sudden. Learn, good soul,
- To think our former state a happy dream;
- From which awak'd, the truth of what we are
- Shows us but this: I am sworn brother, sweet,
- To grim Necessity; and he and
- Will keep a league till death. Hie thee to France,
- And cloister thee in some religious house.
- Our holy lives must win a new world's crown,
- Which our profane hours here have thrown down.
- QUEEN. What, is my Richard both in shape and mind
- Transform'd and weak'ned? Hath Bolingbroke depos'd
- Thine intellect? Hath he been in thy heart?
- The lion dying thrusteth forth his paw
- And wounds the earth, if nothing else, with rage
- To be o'erpow'r'd; and wilt thou, pupil-like,
- Take the correction mildly, kiss the rod,
- And fawn on rage with base humility,
- Which art a lion and the king of beasts?
- KING RICHARD. A king of beasts, indeed! If aught but beasts,
- I had been still a happy king of men.
- Good sometimes queen, prepare thee hence for France.
- Think I am dead, and that even here thou takest,
- As from my death-bed, thy last living leave.
- In winter's tedious nights sit by the fire
- With good old folks, and let them tell thee tales
- Of woeful ages long ago betid;
- And ere thou bid good night, to quit their griefs
- Tell thou the lamentable tale of me,
- And send the hearers weeping to their beds;
- For why, the senseless brands will sympathize
- The heavy accent of thy moving tongue,
- And in compassion weep the fire out;
- And some will mourn in ashes, some coal-black,
- For the deposing of a rightful king.
-
- Enter NORTHUMBERLAND attended
-
- NORTHUMBERLAND. My lord, the mind of Bolingbroke is chang'd;
- You must to Pomfret, not unto the Tower.
- And, madam, there is order ta'en for you:
- With all swift speed you must away to France.
- KING RICHARD. Northumberland, thou ladder wherewithal
- The mounting Bolingbroke ascends my throne,
- The time shall not be many hours of age
- More than it is, ere foul sin gathering head
- Shall break into corruption. Thou shalt think
- Though he divide the realm and give thee half
- It is too little, helping him to all;
- And he shall think that thou, which knowest the way
- To plant unrightful kings, wilt know again,
- Being ne'er so little urg'd, another way
- To pluck him headlong from the usurped throne.
- The love of wicked men converts to fear;
- That fear to hate; and hate turns one or both
- To worthy danger and deserved death.
- NORTHUMBERLAND. My guilt be on my head, and there an end.
- Take leave, and part; for you must part forthwith.
- KING RICHARD. Doubly divorc'd! Bad men, you violate
- A twofold marriage-'twixt my crown and me,
- And then betwixt me and my married wife.
- Let me unkiss the oath 'twixt thee and me;
- And yet not so, for with a kiss 'twas made.
- Part us, Northumberland; I towards the north,
- Where shivering cold and sickness pines the clime;
- My wife to France, from whence set forth in pomp,
- She came adorned hither like sweet May,
- Sent back like Hallowmas or short'st of day.
- QUEEN. And must we be divided? Must we part?
- KING RICHARD. Ay, hand from hand, my love, and heart from heart.
- QUEEN. Banish us both, and send the King with me.
- NORTHUMBERLAND. That were some love, but little policy.
- QUEEN. Then whither he goes thither let me go.
- KING RICHARD. So two, together weeping, make one woe.
- Weep thou for me in France, I for thee here;
- Better far off than near, be ne'er the near.
- Go, count thy way with sighs; I mine with groans.
- QUEEN. So longest way shall have the longest moans.
- KING RICHARD. Twice for one step I'll groan, the way being short,
- And piece the way out with a heavy heart.
- Come, come, in wooing sorrow let's be brief,
- Since, wedding it, there is such length in grief.
- One kiss shall stop our mouths, and dumbly part;
- Thus give I mine, and thus take I thy heart.
- QUEEN. Give me mine own again; 'twere no good part
- To take on me to keep and kill thy heart.
- So, now I have mine own again, be gone.
- That I may strive to kill it with a groan.
- KING RICHARD. We make woe wanton with this fond delay.
- Once more, adieu; the rest let sorrow say. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 2.
-The DUKE OF YORK's palace
-
-Enter the DUKE OF YORK and the DUCHESS
-
- DUCHESS. My Lord, you told me you would tell the rest,
- When weeping made you break the story off,
- Of our two cousins' coming into London.
- YORK. Where did I leave?
- DUCHESS. At that sad stop, my lord,
- Where rude misgoverned hands from windows' tops
- Threw dust and rubbish on King Richard's head.
- YORK. Then, as I said, the Duke, great Bolingbroke,
- Mounted upon a hot and fiery steed
- Which his aspiring rider seem'd to know,
- With slow but stately pace kept on his course,
- Whilst all tongues cried 'God save thee, Bolingbroke!'
- You would have thought the very windows spake,
- So many greedy looks of young and old
- Through casements darted their desiring eyes
- Upon his visage; and that all the walls
- With painted imagery had said at once
- 'Jesu preserve thee! Welcome, Bolingbroke!'
- Whilst he, from the one side to the other turning,
- Bareheaded, lower than his proud steed's neck,
- Bespake them thus, 'I thank you, countrymen.'
- And thus still doing, thus he pass'd along.
- DUCHESS. Alack, poor Richard! where rode he the whilst?
- YORK. As in a theatre the eyes of men
- After a well-grac'd actor leaves the stage
- Are idly bent on him that enters next,
- Thinking his prattle to be tedious;
- Even so, or with much more contempt, men's eyes
- Did scowl on gentle Richard; no man cried 'God save him!'
- No joyful tongue gave him his welcome home;
- But dust was thrown upon his sacred head;
- Which with such gentle sorrow he shook off,
- His face still combating with tears and smiles,
- The badges of his grief and patience,
- That had not God, for some strong purpose, steel'd
- The hearts of men, they must perforce have melted,
- And barbarism itself have pitied him.
- But heaven hath a hand in these events,
- To whose high will we bound our calm contents.
- To Bolingbroke are we sworn subjects now,
- Whose state and honour I for aye allow.
- DUCHESS. Here comes my son Aumerle.
- YORK. Aumerle that was
- But that is lost for being Richard's friend,
- And madam, you must call him Rudand now.
- I am in Parliament pledge for his truth
- And lasting fealty to the new-made king.
-
- Enter AUMERLE
-
- DUCHESS. Welcome, my son. Who are the violets now
- That strew the green lap of the new come spring?
- AUMERLE. Madam, I know not, nor I greatly care not.
- God knows I had as lief be none as one.
- YORK. Well, bear you well in this new spring of time,
- Lest you be cropp'd before you come to prime.
- What news from Oxford? Do these justs and triumphs hold?
- AUMERLE. For aught I know, my lord, they do.
- YORK. You will be there, I know.
- AUMERLE. If God prevent not, I purpose so.
- YORK. What seal is that that without thy bosom?
- Yea, look'st thou pale? Let me see the writing.
- AUMERLE. My lord, 'tis nothing.
- YORK. No matter, then, who see it.
- I will be satisfied; let me see the writing.
- AUMERLE. I do beseech your Grace to pardon me;
- It is a matter of small consequence
- Which for some reasons I would not have seen.
- YORK. Which for some reasons, sir, I mean to see.
- I fear, I fear-
- DUCHESS. What should you fear?
- 'Tis nothing but some bond that he is ent'red into
- For gay apparel 'gainst the triumph-day.
- YORK. Bound to himself! What doth he with a bond
- That he is bound to? Wife, thou art a fool.
- Boy, let me see the writing.
- AUMERLE. I do beseech you, pardon me; I may not show it.
- YORK. I will be satisfied; let me see it, I say.
- [He plucks it out of his bosom, and reads it]
- Treason, foul treason! Villain! traitor! slave!
- DUCHESS. What is the matter, my lord?
- YORK. Ho! who is within there?
-
- Enter a servant
-
- Saddle my horse.
- God for his mercy, what treachery is here!
- DUCHESS. Why, York, what is it, my lord?
- YORK. Give me my boots, I say; saddle my horse.
- Exit servant
- Now, by mine honour, by my life, my troth,
- I will appeach the villain.
- DUCHESS. What is the matter?
- YORK. Peace, foolish woman.
- DUCHESS. I will not peace. What is the matter, Aumerle?
- AUMERLE. Good mother, be content; it is no more
- Than my poor life must answer.
- DUCHESS. Thy life answer!
- YORK. Bring me my boots. I will unto the King.
-
- His man enters with his boots
-
- DUCHESS. Strike him, Aumerle. Poor boy, thou art amaz'd.
- Hence, villain! never more come in my sight.
- YORK. Give me my boots, I say.
- DUCHESS. Why, York, what wilt thou do?
- Wilt thou not hide the trespass of thine own?
- Have we more sons? or are we like to have?
- Is not my teeming date drunk up with time?
- And wilt thou pluck my fair son from mine age
- And rob me of a happy mother's name?
- Is he not like thee? Is he not thine own?
- YORK. Thou fond mad woman,
- Wilt thou conceal this dark conspiracy?
- A dozen of them here have ta'en the sacrament,
- And interchangeably set down their hands
- To kill the King at Oxford.
- DUCHESS. He shall be none;
- We'll keep him here. Then what is that to him?
- YORK. Away, fond woman! were he twenty times my son
- I would appeach him.
- DUCHESS. Hadst thou groan'd for him
- As I have done, thou wouldst be more pitiful.
- But now I know thy mind: thou dost suspect
- That I have been disloyal to thy bed
- And that he is a bastard, not thy son.
- Sweet York, sweet husband, be not of that mind.
- He is as like thee as a man may be
- Not like to me, or any of my kin,
- And yet I love him.
- YORK. Make way, unruly woman! Exit
- DUCHESS. After, Aumerle! Mount thee upon his horse;
- Spur post, and get before him to the King,
- And beg thy pardon ere he do accuse thee.
- I'll not be long behind; though I be old,
- I doubt not but to ride as fast as York;
- And never will I rise up from the ground
- Till Bolingbroke have pardon'd thee. Away, be gone.
- Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 3.
-Windsor Castle
-
-Enter BOLINGBROKE as King, PERCY, and other LORDS
-
- BOLINGBROKE. Can no man tell me of my unthrifty son?
- 'Tis full three months since I did see him last.
- If any plague hang over us, 'tis he.
- I would to God, my lords, he might be found.
- Inquire at London, 'mongst the taverns there,
- For there, they say, he daily doth frequent
- With unrestrained loose companions,
- Even such, they say, as stand in narrow lanes
- And beat our watch and rob our passengers,
- Which he, young wanton and effeminate boy,
- Takes on the point of honour to support
- So dissolute a crew.
- PERCY. My lord, some two days since I saw the Prince,
- And told him of those triumphs held at Oxford.
- BOLINGBROKE. And what said the gallant?
- PERCY. His answer was, he would unto the stews,
- And from the common'st creature pluck a glove
- And wear it as a favour; and with that
- He would unhorse the lustiest challenger.
- BOLINGBROKE. As dissolute as desperate; yet through both
- I see some sparks of better hope, which elder years
- May happily bring forth. But who comes here?
-
- Enter AUMERLE amazed
-
- AUMERLE. Where is the King?
- BOLINGBROKE. What means our cousin that he stares and looks
- So wildly?
- AUMERLE. God save your Grace! I do beseech your Majesty,
- To have some conference with your Grace alone.
- BOLINGBROKE. Withdraw yourselves, and leave us here alone.
- Exeunt PERCY and LORDS
- What is the matter with our cousin now?
- AUMERLE. For ever may my knees grow to the earth,
- [Kneels]
- My tongue cleave to my roof within my mouth,
- Unless a pardon ere I rise or speak.
- BOLINGBROKE. Intended or committed was this fault?
- If on the first, how heinous e'er it be,
- To win thy after-love I pardon thee.
- AUMERLE. Then give me leave that I may turn the key,
- That no man enter till my tale be done.
- BOLINGBROKE. Have thy desire.
- [The DUKE OF YORK knocks at the door and crieth]
- YORK. [Within] My liege, beware; look to thyself;
- Thou hast a traitor in thy presence there.
- BOLINGBROKE. [Drawing] Villain, I'll make thee safe.
- AUMERLE. Stay thy revengeful hand; thou hast no cause to fear.
- YORK. [Within] Open the door, secure, foolhardy King.
- Shall I, for love, speak treason to thy face?
- Open the door, or I will break it open.
-
- Enter YORK
-
- BOLINGBROKE. What is the matter, uncle? Speak;
- Recover breath; tell us how near is danger,
- That we may arm us to encounter it.
- YORK. Peruse this writing here, and thou shalt know
- The treason that my haste forbids me show.
- AUMERLE. Remember, as thou read'st, thy promise pass'd.
- I do repent me; read not my name there;
- My heart is not confederate with my hand.
- YORK. It was, villain, ere thy hand did set it down.
- I tore it from the traitor's bosom, King;
- Fear, and not love, begets his penitence.
- Forget to pity him, lest thy pity prove
- A serpent that will sting thee to the heart.
- BOLINGBROKE. O heinous, strong, and bold conspiracy!
- O loyal father of a treacherous son!
- Thou sheer, immaculate, and silver fountain,
- From whence this stream through muddy passages
- Hath held his current and defil'd himself!
- Thy overflow of good converts to bad;
- And thy abundant goodness shall excuse
- This deadly blot in thy digressing son.
- YORK. So shall my virtue be his vice's bawd;
- And he shall spend mine honour with his shame,
- As thriftless sons their scraping fathers' gold.
- Mine honour lives when his dishonour dies,
- Or my sham'd life in his dishonour lies.
- Thou kill'st me in his life; giving him breath,
- The traitor lives, the true man's put to death.
- DUCHESS. [Within] I What ho, my liege, for God's sake, let me in.
- BOLINGBROKE. What shrill-voic'd suppliant makes this eager cry?
- DUCHESS. [Within] A woman, and thine aunt, great King; 'tis I.
- Speak with me, pity me, open the door.
- A beggar begs that never begg'd before.
- BOLINGBROKE. Our scene is alt'red from a serious thing,
- And now chang'd to 'The Beggar and the King.'
- My dangerous cousin, let your mother in.
- I know she is come to pray for your foul sin.
- YORK. If thou do pardon whosoever pray,
- More sins for this forgiveness prosper may.
- This fest'red joint cut off, the rest rest sound;
- This let alone will all the rest confound.
-
- Enter DUCHESS
-
- DUCHESS. O King, believe not this hard-hearted man!
- Love loving not itself, none other can.
- YORK. Thou frantic woman, what dost thou make here?
- Shall thy old dugs once more a traitor rear?
- DUCHESS. Sweet York, be patient. Hear me, gentle liege.
- [Kneels]
- BOLINGBROKE. Rise up, good aunt.
- DUCHESS. Not yet, I thee beseech.
- For ever will I walk upon my knees,
- And never see day that the happy sees
- Till thou give joy; until thou bid me joy
- By pardoning Rutland, my transgressing boy.
- AUMERLE. Unto my mother's prayers I bend my knee.
- [Kneels]
- YORK. Against them both, my true joints bended be.
- [Kneels]
- Ill mayst thou thrive, if thou grant any grace!
- DUCHESS. Pleads he in earnest? Look upon his face;
- His eyes do drop no tears, his prayers are in jest;
- His words come from his mouth, ours from our breast.
- He prays but faintly and would be denied;
- We pray with heart and soul, and all beside.
- His weary joints would gladly rise, I know;
- Our knees still kneel till to the ground they grow.
- His prayers are full of false hypocrisy;
- Ours of true zeal and deep integrity.
- Our prayers do out-pray his; then let them have
- That mercy which true prayer ought to have.
- BOLINGBROKE. Good aunt, stand up.
- DUCHESS. do not say 'stand up';
- Say 'pardon' first, and afterwards 'stand up.'
- An if I were thy nurse, thy tongue to teach,
- 'Pardon' should be the first word of thy speech.
- I never long'd to hear a word till now;
- Say 'pardon,' King; let pity teach thee how.
- The word is short, but not so short as sweet;
- No word like 'pardon' for kings' mouths so meet.
- YORK. Speak it in French, King, say 'pardonne moy.'
- DUCHESS. Dost thou teach pardon pardon to destroy?
- Ah, my sour husband, my hard-hearted lord,
- That sets the word itself against the word!
- Speak 'pardon' as 'tis current in our land;
- The chopping French we do not understand.
- Thine eye begins to speak, set thy tongue there;
- Or in thy piteous heart plant thou thine ear,
- That hearing how our plaints and prayers do pierce,
- Pity may move thee 'pardon' to rehearse.
- BOLINGBROKE. Good aunt, stand up.
- DUCHESS. I do not sue to stand;
- Pardon is all the suit I have in hand.
- BOLINGBROKE. I pardon him, as God shall pardon me.
- DUCHESS. O happy vantage of a kneeling knee!
- Yet am I sick for fear. Speak it again.
- Twice saying 'pardon' doth not pardon twain,
- But makes one pardon strong.
- BOLINGBROKE. With all my heart
- I pardon him.
- DUCHESS. A god on earth thou art.
- BOLINGBROKE. But for our trusty brother-in-law and the Abbot,
- With all the rest of that consorted crew,
- Destruction straight shall dog them at the heels.
- Good uncle, help to order several powers
- To Oxford, or where'er these traitors are.
- They shall not live within this world, I swear,
- But I will have them, if I once know where.
- Uncle, farewell; and, cousin, adieu;
- Your mother well hath pray'd, and prove you true.
- DUCHESS. Come, my old son; I pray God make thee new. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 4.
-Windsor Castle
-
-Enter SIR PIERCE OF EXTON and a servant
-
- EXTON. Didst thou not mark the King, what words he spake?
- 'Have I no friend will rid me of this living fear?'
- Was it not so?
- SERVANT. These were his very words.
- EXTON. 'Have I no friend?' quoth he. He spake it twice
- And urg'd it twice together, did he not?
- SERVANT. He did.
- EXTON. And, speaking it, he wishtly look'd on me,
- As who should say 'I would thou wert the man
- That would divorce this terror from my heart';
- Meaning the King at Pomfret. Come, let's go.
- I am the King's friend, and will rid his foe. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 5.
-Pomfret Castle. The dungeon of the Castle
-
-Enter KING RICHARD
-
- KING RICHARD. I have been studying how I may compare
- This prison where I live unto the world
- And, for because the world is populous
- And here is not a creature but myself,
- I cannot do it. Yet I'll hammer it out.
- My brain I'll prove the female to my soul,
- My soul the father; and these two beget
- A generation of still-breeding thoughts,
- And these same thoughts people this little world,
- In humours like the people of this world,
- For no thought is contented. The better sort,
- As thoughts of things divine, are intermix'd
- With scruples, and do set the word itself
- Against the word,
- As thus: 'Come, little ones'; and then again,
- 'It is as hard to come as for a camel
- To thread the postern of a small needle's eye.'
- Thoughts tending to ambition, they do plot
- Unlikely wonders: how these vain weak nails
- May tear a passage through the flinty ribs
- Of this hard world, my ragged prison walls;
- And, for they cannot, die in their own pride.
- Thoughts tending to content flatter themselves
- That they are not the first of fortune's slaves,
- Nor shall not be the last; like silly beggars
- Who, sitting in the stocks, refuge their shame,
- That many have and others must sit there;
- And in this thought they find a kind of ease,
- Bearing their own misfortunes on the back
- Of such as have before endur'd the like.
- Thus play I in one person many people,
- And none contented. Sometimes am I king;
- Then treasons make me wish myself a beggar,
- And so I am. Then crushing penury
- Persuades me I was better when a king;
- Then am I king'd again; and by and by
- Think that I am unking'd by Bolingbroke,
- And straight am nothing. But whate'er I be,
- Nor I, nor any man that but man is,
- With nothing shall be pleas'd till he be eas'd
- With being nothing. [The music plays]
- Music do I hear?
- Ha, ha! keep time. How sour sweet music is
- When time is broke and no proportion kept!
- So is it in the music of men's lives.
- And here have I the daintiness of ear
- To check time broke in a disorder'd string;
- But, for the concord of my state and time,
- Had not an ear to hear my true time broke.
- I wasted time, and now doth time waste me;
- For now hath time made me his numb'ring clock:
- My thoughts are minutes; and with sighs they jar
- Their watches on unto mine eyes, the outward watch,
- Whereto my finger, like a dial's point,
- Is pointing still, in cleansing them from tears.
- Now sir, the sound that tells what hour it is
- Are clamorous groans which strike upon my heart,
- Which is the bell. So sighs, and tears, and groans,
- Show minutes, times, and hours; but my time
- Runs posting on in Bolingbroke's proud joy,
- While I stand fooling here, his Jack of the clock.
- This music mads me. Let it sound no more;
- For though it have holp madmen to their wits,
- In me it seems it will make wise men mad.
- Yet blessing on his heart that gives it me!
- For 'tis a sign of love; and love to Richard
- Is a strange brooch in this all-hating world.
-
- Enter a GROOM of the stable
-
- GROOM. Hail, royal Prince!
- KING RICHARD. Thanks, noble peer!
- The cheapest of us is ten groats too dear.
- What art thou? and how comest thou hither,
- Where no man never comes but that sad dog
- That brings me food to make misfortune live?
- GROOM. I was a poor groom of thy stable, King,
- When thou wert king; who, travelling towards York,
- With much ado at length have gotten leave
- To look upon my sometimes royal master's face.
- O, how it ern'd my heart, when I beheld,
- In London streets, that coronation-day,
- When Bolingbroke rode on roan Barbary-
- That horse that thou so often hast bestrid,
- That horse that I so carefully have dress'd!
- KING RICHARD. Rode he on Barbary? Tell me, gentle friend,
- How went he under him?
- GROOM. So proudly as if he disdain'd the ground.
- KING RICHARD. So proud that Bolingbroke was on his back!
- That jade hath eat bread from my royal hand;
- This hand hath made him proud with clapping him.
- Would he not stumble? would he not fall down,
- Since pride must have a fall, and break the neck
- Of that proud man that did usurp his back?
- Forgiveness, horse! Why do I rail on thee,
- Since thou, created to be aw'd by man,
- Wast born to bear? I was not made a horse;
- And yet I bear a burden like an ass,
- Spurr'd, gall'd, and tir'd, by jauncing Bolingbroke.
-
- Enter KEEPER with meat
-
- KEEPER. Fellow, give place; here is no longer stay.
- KING RICHARD. If thou love me, 'tis time thou wert away.
- GROOM. my tongue dares not, that my heart shall say.
- Exit
- KEEPER. My lord, will't please you to fall to?
- KING RICHARD. Taste of it first as thou art wont to do.
- KEEPER. My lord, I dare not. Sir Pierce of Exton,
- Who lately came from the King, commands the contrary.
- KING RICHARD. The devil take Henry of Lancaster and thee!
- Patience is stale, and I am weary of it.
- [Beats the KEEPER]
- KEEPER. Help, help, help!
- The murderers, EXTON and servants, rush in, armed
- KING RICHARD. How now! What means death in this rude assault?
- Villain, thy own hand yields thy death's instrument.
- [Snatching a weapon and killing one]
- Go thou and fill another room in hell.
- [He kills another, then EXTON strikes him down]
- That hand shall burn in never-quenching fire
- That staggers thus my person. Exton, thy fierce hand
- Hath with the King's blood stain'd the King's own land.
- Mount, mount, my soul! thy seat is up on high;
- Whilst my gross flesh sinks downward, here to die.
- [Dies]
- EXTON. As full of valour as of royal blood.
- Both have I spill'd. O, would the deed were good!
- For now the devil, that told me I did well,
- Says that this deed is chronicled in hell.
- This dead King to the living King I'll bear.
- Take hence the rest, and give them burial here. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 6.
-Windsor Castle
-
-Flourish. Enter BOLINGBROKE, the DUKE OF YORK, With other LORDS
-and attendants
-
- BOLINGBROKE. Kind uncle York, the latest news we hear
- Is that the rebels have consum'd with fire
- Our town of Ciceter in Gloucestershire;
- But whether they be ta'en or slain we hear not.
-
- Enter NORTHUMBERLAND
-
- Welcome, my lord. What is the news?
- NORTHUMBERLAND. First, to thy sacred state wish I all happiness.
- The next news is, I have to London sent
- The heads of Salisbury, Spencer, Blunt, and Kent.
- The manner of their taking may appear
- At large discoursed in this paper here.
- BOLINGBROKE. We thank thee, gentle Percy, for thy pains;
- And to thy worth will add right worthy gains.
-
- Enter FITZWATER
-
- FITZWATER. My lord, I have from Oxford sent to London
- The heads of Brocas and Sir Bennet Seely;
- Two of the dangerous consorted traitors
- That sought at Oxford thy dire overthrow.
- BOLINGBROKE. Thy pains, Fitzwater, shall not be forgot;
- Right noble is thy merit, well I wot.
-
- Enter PERCY, With the BISHOP OF CARLISLE
-
- PERCY. The grand conspirator, Abbot of Westminster,
- With clog of conscience and sour melancholy,
- Hath yielded up his body to the grave;
- But here is Carlisle living, to abide
- Thy kingly doom, and sentence of his pride.
- BOLINGBROKE. Carlisle, this is your doom:
- Choose out some secret place, some reverend room,
- More than thou hast, and with it joy thy life;
- So as thou liv'st in peace, die free from strife;
- For though mine enemy thou hast ever been,
- High sparks of honour in thee have I seen.
-
- Enter EXTON, with attendants, hearing a coffin
-
- EXTON. Great King, within this coffin I present
- Thy buried fear. Herein all breathless lies
- The mightiest of thy greatest enemies,
- Richard of Bordeaux, by me hither brought.
- BOLINGBROKE. Exton, I thank thee not; for thou hast wrought
- A deed of slander with thy fatal hand
- Upon my head and all this famous land.
- EXTON. From your own mouth, my lord, did I this deed.
- BOLINGBROKE. They love not poison that do poison need,
- Nor do I thee. Though I did wish him dead,
- I hate the murderer, love him murdered.
- The guilt of conscience take thou for thy labour,
- But neither my good word nor princely favour;
- With Cain go wander thorough shades of night,
- And never show thy head by day nor light.
- Lords, I protest my soul is full of woe
- That blood should sprinkle me to make me grow.
- Come, mourn with me for what I do lament,
- And put on sullen black incontinent.
- I'll make a voyage to the Holy Land,
- To wash this blood off from my guilty hand.
- March sadly after; grace my mournings here
- In weeping after this untimely bier. Exeunt
-
-THE END
-
-
-
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-1593
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-KING RICHARD III
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-by William Shakespeare
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-
-Dramatis Personae
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- EDWARD THE FOURTH
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- Sons to the King
- EDWARD, PRINCE OF WALES afterwards KING EDWARD V
- RICHARD, DUKE OF YORK,
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- Brothers to the King
- GEORGE, DUKE OF CLARENCE,
- RICHARD, DUKE OF GLOUCESTER, afterwards KING RICHARD III
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- A YOUNG SON OF CLARENCE (Edward, Earl of Warwick)
- HENRY, EARL OF RICHMOND, afterwards KING HENRY VII
- CARDINAL BOURCHIER, ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY
- THOMAS ROTHERHAM, ARCHBISHOP OF YORK
- JOHN MORTON, BISHOP OF ELY
- DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM
- DUKE OF NORFOLK
- EARL OF SURREY, his son
- EARL RIVERS, brother to King Edward's Queen
- MARQUIS OF DORSET and LORD GREY, her sons
- EARL OF OXFORD
- LORD HASTINGS
- LORD LOVEL
- LORD STANLEY, called also EARL OF DERBY
- SIR THOMAS VAUGHAN
- SIR RICHARD RATCLIFF
- SIR WILLIAM CATESBY
- SIR JAMES TYRREL
- SIR JAMES BLOUNT
- SIR WALTER HERBERT
- SIR WILLIAM BRANDON
- SIR ROBERT BRAKENBURY, Lieutenant of the Tower
- CHRISTOPHER URSWICK, a priest
- LORD MAYOR OF LONDON
- SHERIFF OF WILTSHIRE
- HASTINGS, a pursuivant
- TRESSEL and BERKELEY, gentlemen attending on Lady Anne
- ELIZABETH, Queen to King Edward IV
- MARGARET, widow of King Henry VI
- DUCHESS OF YORK, mother to King Edward IV
- LADY ANNE, widow of Edward, Prince of Wales, son to King
- Henry VI; afterwards married to the Duke of Gloucester
- A YOUNG DAUGHTER OF CLARENCE (Margaret Plantagenet,
- Countess of Salisbury)
- Ghosts, of Richard's victims
- Lords, Gentlemen, and Attendants; Priest, Scrivener, Page, Bishops,
- Aldermen, Citizens, Soldiers, Messengers, Murderers, Keeper
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-SCENE: England
-
-King Richard the Third
-
-
-
-ACT I. SCENE 1.
-
-London. A street
-
-Enter RICHARD, DUKE OF GLOUCESTER, solus
-
- GLOUCESTER. Now is the winter of our discontent
- Made glorious summer by this sun of York;
- And all the clouds that lour'd upon our house
- In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.
- Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths;
- Our bruised arms hung up for monuments;
- Our stern alarums chang'd to merry meetings,
- Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.
- Grim-visag'd war hath smooth'd his wrinkled front,
- And now, instead of mounting barbed steeds
- To fright the souls of fearful adversaries,
- He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber
- To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.
- But I-that am not shap'd for sportive tricks,
- Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass-
- I-that am rudely stamp'd, and want love's majesty
- To strut before a wanton ambling nymph-
- I-that am curtail'd of this fair proportion,
- Cheated of feature by dissembling nature,
- Deform'd, unfinish'd, sent before my time
- Into this breathing world scarce half made up,
- And that so lamely and unfashionable
- That dogs bark at me as I halt by them-
- Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace,
- Have no delight to pass away the time,
- Unless to spy my shadow in the sun
- And descant on mine own deformity.
- And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover
- To entertain these fair well-spoken days,
- I am determined to prove a villain
- And hate the idle pleasures of these days.
- Plots have I laid, inductions dangerous,
- By drunken prophecies, libels, and dreams,
- To set my brother Clarence and the King
- In deadly hate the one against the other;
- And if King Edward be as true and just
- As I am subtle, false, and treacherous,
- This day should Clarence closely be mew'd up-
- About a prophecy which says that G
- Of Edward's heirs the murderer shall be.
- Dive, thoughts, down to my soul. Here Clarence comes.
-
- Enter CLARENCE, guarded, and BRAKENBURY
-
- Brother, good day. What means this armed guard
- That waits upon your Grace?
- CLARENCE. His Majesty,
- Tend'ring my person's safety, hath appointed
- This conduct to convey me to th' Tower.
- GLOUCESTER. Upon what cause?
- CLARENCE. Because my name is George.
- GLOUCESTER. Alack, my lord, that fault is none of yours:
- He should, for that, commit your godfathers.
- O, belike his Majesty hath some intent
- That you should be new-christ'ned in the Tower.
- But what's the matter, Clarence? May I know?
- CLARENCE. Yea, Richard, when I know; for I protest
- As yet I do not; but, as I can learn,
- He hearkens after prophecies and dreams,
- And from the cross-row plucks the letter G,
- And says a wizard told him that by G
- His issue disinherited should be;
- And, for my name of George begins with G,
- It follows in his thought that I am he.
- These, as I learn, and such like toys as these
- Hath mov'd his Highness to commit me now.
- GLOUCESTER. Why, this it is when men are rul'd by women:
- 'Tis not the King that sends you to the Tower;
- My Lady Grey his wife, Clarence, 'tis she
- That tempers him to this extremity.
- Was it not she and that good man of worship,
- Antony Woodville, her brother there,
- That made him send Lord Hastings to the Tower,
- From whence this present day he is delivered?
- We are not safe, Clarence; we are not safe.
- CLARENCE. By heaven, I think there is no man is secure
- But the Queen's kindred, and night-walking heralds
- That trudge betwixt the King and Mistress Shore.
- Heard you not what an humble suppliant
- Lord Hastings was, for her delivery?
- GLOUCESTER. Humbly complaining to her deity
- Got my Lord Chamberlain his liberty.
- I'll tell you what-I think it is our way,
- If we will keep in favour with the King,
- To be her men and wear her livery:
- The jealous o'er-worn widow, and herself,
- Since that our brother dubb'd them gentlewomen,
- Are mighty gossips in our monarchy.
- BRAKENBURY. I beseech your Graces both to pardon me:
- His Majesty hath straitly given in charge
- That no man shall have private conference,
- Of what degree soever, with your brother.
- GLOUCESTER. Even so; an't please your worship, Brakenbury,
- You may partake of any thing we say:
- We speak no treason, man; we say the King
- Is wise and virtuous, and his noble queen
- Well struck in years, fair, and not jealous;
- We say that Shore's wife hath a pretty foot,
- A cherry lip, a bonny eye, a passing pleasing tongue;
- And that the Queen's kindred are made gentlefolks.
- How say you, sir? Can you deny all this?
- BRAKENBURY. With this, my lord, myself have naught to do.
- GLOUCESTER. Naught to do with Mistress Shore! I tell thee,
- fellow,
- He that doth naught with her, excepting one,
- Were best to do it secretly alone.
- BRAKENBURY. What one, my lord?
- GLOUCESTER. Her husband, knave! Wouldst thou betray me?
- BRAKENBURY. I do beseech your Grace to pardon me, and
- withal
- Forbear your conference with the noble Duke.
- CLARENCE. We know thy charge, Brakenbury, and will
- obey.
- GLOUCESTER. We are the Queen's abjects and must obey.
- Brother, farewell; I will unto the King;
- And whatsoe'er you will employ me in-
- Were it to call King Edward's widow sister-
- I will perform it to enfranchise you.
- Meantime, this deep disgrace in brotherhood
- Touches me deeper than you can imagine.
- CLARENCE. I know it pleaseth neither of us well.
- GLOUCESTER. Well, your imprisonment shall not be long;
- I will deliver or else lie for you.
- Meantime, have patience.
- CLARENCE. I must perforce. Farewell.
- Exeunt CLARENCE, BRAKENBURY, and guard
- GLOUCESTER. Go tread the path that thou shalt ne'er return.
- Simple, plain Clarence, I do love thee so
- That I will shortly send thy soul to heaven,
- If heaven will take the present at our hands.
- But who comes here? The new-delivered Hastings?
-
- Enter LORD HASTINGS
-
- HASTINGS. Good time of day unto my gracious lord!
- GLOUCESTER. As much unto my good Lord Chamberlain!
- Well are you welcome to the open air.
- How hath your lordship brook'd imprisonment?
- HASTINGS. With patience, noble lord, as prisoners must;
- But I shall live, my lord, to give them thanks
- That were the cause of my imprisonment.
- GLOUCESTER. No doubt, no doubt; and so shall Clarence too;
- For they that were your enemies are his,
- And have prevail'd as much on him as you.
- HASTINGS. More pity that the eagles should be mew'd
- Whiles kites and buzzards prey at liberty.
- GLOUCESTER. What news abroad?
- HASTINGS. No news so bad abroad as this at home:
- The King is sickly, weak, and melancholy,
- And his physicians fear him mightily.
- GLOUCESTER. Now, by Saint John, that news is bad indeed.
- O, he hath kept an evil diet long
- And overmuch consum'd his royal person!
- 'Tis very grievous to be thought upon.
- Where is he? In his bed?
- HASTINGS. He is.
- GLOUCESTER. Go you before, and I will follow you.
- Exit HASTINGS
- He cannot live, I hope, and must not die
- Till George be pack'd with posthorse up to heaven.
- I'll in to urge his hatred more to Clarence
- With lies well steel'd with weighty arguments;
- And, if I fail not in my deep intent,
- Clarence hath not another day to live;
- Which done, God take King Edward to his mercy,
- And leave the world for me to bustle in!
- For then I'll marry Warwick's youngest daughter.
- What though I kill'd her husband and her father?
- The readiest way to make the wench amends
- Is to become her husband and her father;
- The which will I-not all so much for love
- As for another secret close intent
- By marrying her which I must reach unto.
- But yet I run before my horse to market.
- Clarence still breathes; Edward still lives and reigns;
- When they are gone, then must I count my gains. Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 2.
-
-London. Another street
-
-Enter corpse of KING HENRY THE SIXTH, with halberds to guard it;
-LADY ANNE being the mourner, attended by TRESSEL and BERKELEY
-
- ANNE. Set down, set down your honourable load-
- If honour may be shrouded in a hearse;
- Whilst I awhile obsequiously lament
- Th' untimely fall of virtuous Lancaster.
- Poor key-cold figure of a holy king!
- Pale ashes of the house of Lancaster!
- Thou bloodless remnant of that royal blood!
- Be it lawful that I invocate thy ghost
- To hear the lamentations of poor Anne,
- Wife to thy Edward, to thy slaughtered son,
- Stabb'd by the self-same hand that made these wounds.
- Lo, in these windows that let forth thy life
- I pour the helpless balm of my poor eyes.
- O, cursed be the hand that made these holes!
- Cursed the heart that had the heart to do it!
- Cursed the blood that let this blood from hence!
- More direful hap betide that hated wretch
- That makes us wretched by the death of thee
- Than I can wish to adders, spiders, toads,
- Or any creeping venom'd thing that lives!
- If ever he have child, abortive be it,
- Prodigious, and untimely brought to light,
- Whose ugly and unnatural aspect
- May fright the hopeful mother at the view,
- And that be heir to his unhappiness!
- If ever he have wife, let her be made
- More miserable by the death of him
- Than I am made by my young lord and thee!
- Come, now towards Chertsey with your holy load,
- Taken from Paul's to be interred there;
- And still as you are weary of this weight
- Rest you, whiles I lament King Henry's corse.
- [The bearers take up the coffin]
-
- Enter GLOUCESTER
-
- GLOUCESTER. Stay, you that bear the corse, and set it down.
- ANNE. What black magician conjures up this fiend
- To stop devoted charitable deeds?
- GLOUCESTER. Villains, set down the corse; or, by Saint Paul,
- I'll make a corse of him that disobeys!
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. My lord, stand back, and let the coffin
- pass.
- GLOUCESTER. Unmannerd dog! Stand thou, when I command.
- Advance thy halberd higher than my breast,
- Or, by Saint Paul, I'll strike thee to my foot
- And spurn upon thee, beggar, for thy boldness.
- [The bearers set down the coffin]
- ANNE. What, do you tremble? Are you all afraid?
- Alas, I blame you not, for you are mortal,
- And mortal eyes cannot endure the devil.
- Avaunt, thou dreadful minister of hell!
- Thou hadst but power over his mortal body,
- His soul thou canst not have; therefore, be gone.
- GLOUCESTER. Sweet saint, for charity, be not so curst.
- ANNE. Foul devil, for God's sake, hence and trouble us not;
- For thou hast made the happy earth thy hell
- Fill'd it with cursing cries and deep exclaims.
- If thou delight to view thy heinous deeds,
- Behold this pattern of thy butcheries.
- O, gentlemen, see, see! Dead Henry's wounds
- Open their congeal'd mouths and bleed afresh.
- Blush, blush, thou lump of foul deformity,
- For 'tis thy presence that exhales this blood
- From cold and empty veins where no blood dwells;
- Thy deeds inhuman and unnatural
- Provokes this deluge most unnatural.
- O God, which this blood mad'st, revenge his death!
- O earth, which this blood drink'st, revenge his death!
- Either, heav'n, with lightning strike the murd'rer dead;
- Or, earth, gape open wide and eat him quick,
- As thou dost swallow up this good king's blood,
- Which his hell-govern'd arm hath butchered.
- GLOUCESTER. Lady, you know no rules of charity,
- Which renders good for bad, blessings for curses.
- ANNE. Villain, thou knowest nor law of God nor man:
- No beast so fierce but knows some touch of pity.
- GLOUCESTER. But I know none, and therefore am no beast.
- ANNE. O wonderful, when devils tell the truth!
- GLOUCESTER. More wonderful when angels are so angry.
- Vouchsafe, divine perfection of a woman,
- Of these supposed crimes to give me leave
- By circumstance but to acquit myself.
- ANNE. Vouchsafe, diffus'd infection of a man,
- Of these known evils but to give me leave
- By circumstance to accuse thy cursed self.
- GLOUCESTER. Fairer than tongue can name thee, let me have
- Some patient leisure to excuse myself.
- ANNE. Fouler than heart can think thee, thou canst make
- No excuse current but to hang thyself.
- GLOUCESTER. By such despair I should accuse myself.
- ANNE. And by despairing shalt thou stand excused
- For doing worthy vengeance on thyself
- That didst unworthy slaughter upon others.
- GLOUCESTER. Say that I slew them not?
- ANNE. Then say they were not slain.
- But dead they are, and, devilish slave, by thee.
- GLOUCESTER. I did not kill your husband.
- ANNE. Why, then he is alive.
- GLOUCESTER. Nay, he is dead, and slain by Edward's hands.
- ANNE. In thy foul throat thou liest: Queen Margaret saw
- Thy murd'rous falchion smoking in his blood;
- The which thou once didst bend against her breast,
- But that thy brothers beat aside the point.
- GLOUCESTER. I was provoked by her sland'rous tongue
- That laid their guilt upon my guiltless shoulders.
- ANNE. Thou wast provoked by thy bloody mind,
- That never dream'st on aught but butcheries.
- Didst thou not kill this king?
- GLOUCESTER. I grant ye.
- ANNE. Dost grant me, hedgehog? Then, God grant me to
- Thou mayst be damned for that wicked deed!
- O, he was gentle, mild, and virtuous!
- GLOUCESTER. The better for the King of Heaven, that hath
- him.
- ANNE. He is in heaven, where thou shalt never come.
- GLOUCESTER. Let him thank me that holp to send him
- thither,
- For he was fitter for that place than earth.
- ANNE. And thou unfit for any place but hell.
- GLOUCESTER. Yes, one place else, if you will hear me name it.
- ANNE. Some dungeon.
- GLOUCESTER. Your bed-chamber.
- ANNE. Ill rest betide the chamber where thou liest!
- GLOUCESTER. So will it, madam, till I lie with you.
- ANNE. I hope so.
- GLOUCESTER. I know so. But, gentle Lady Anne,
- To leave this keen encounter of our wits,
- And fall something into a slower method-
- Is not the causer of the timeless deaths
- Of these Plantagenets, Henry and Edward,
- As blameful as the executioner?
- ANNE. Thou wast the cause and most accurs'd effect.
- GLOUCESTER. Your beauty was the cause of that effect-
- Your beauty that did haunt me in my sleep
- To undertake the death of all the world
- So I might live one hour in your sweet bosom.
- ANNE. If I thought that, I tell thee, homicide,
- These nails should rend that beauty from my cheeks.
- GLOUCESTER. These eyes could not endure that beauty's
- wreck;
- You should not blemish it if I stood by.
- As all the world is cheered by the sun,
- So I by that; it is my day, my life.
- ANNE. Black night o'ershade thy day, and death thy life!
- GLOUCESTER. Curse not thyself, fair creature; thou art both.
- ANNE. I would I were, to be reveng'd on thee.
- GLOUCESTER. It is a quarrel most unnatural,
- To be reveng'd on him that loveth thee.
- ANNE. It is a quarrel just and reasonable,
- To be reveng'd on him that kill'd my husband.
- GLOUCESTER. He that bereft thee, lady, of thy husband
- Did it to help thee to a better husband.
- ANNE. His better doth not breathe upon the earth.
- GLOUCESTER. He lives that loves thee better than he could.
- ANNE. Name him.
- GLOUCESTER. Plantagenet.
- ANNE. Why, that was he.
- GLOUCESTER. The self-same name, but one of better nature.
- ANNE. Where is he?
- GLOUCESTER. Here. [She spits at him] Why dost thou spit
- at me?
- ANNE. Would it were mortal poison, for thy sake!
- GLOUCESTER. Never came poison from so sweet a place.
- ANNE. Never hung poison on a fouler toad.
- Out of my sight! Thou dost infect mine eyes.
- GLOUCESTER. Thine eyes, sweet lady, have infected mine.
- ANNE. Would they were basilisks to strike thee dead!
- GLOUCESTER. I would they were, that I might die at once;
- For now they kill me with a living death.
- Those eyes of thine from mine have drawn salt tears,
- Sham'd their aspects with store of childish drops-
- These eyes, which never shed remorseful tear,
- No, when my father York and Edward wept
- To hear the piteous moan that Rutland made
- When black-fac'd Clifford shook his sword at him;
- Nor when thy warlike father, like a child,
- Told the sad story of my father's death,
- And twenty times made pause to sob and weep
- That all the standers-by had wet their cheeks
- Like trees bedash'd with rain-in that sad time
- My manly eyes did scorn an humble tear;
- And what these sorrows could not thence exhale
- Thy beauty hath, and made them blind with weeping.
- I never sued to friend nor enemy;
- My tongue could never learn sweet smoothing word;
- But, now thy beauty is propos'd my fee,
- My proud heart sues, and prompts my tongue to speak.
- [She looks scornfully at him]
- Teach not thy lip such scorn; for it was made
- For kissing, lady, not for such contempt.
- If thy revengeful heart cannot forgive,
- Lo here I lend thee this sharp-pointed sword;
- Which if thou please to hide in this true breast
- And let the soul forth that adoreth thee,
- I lay it naked to the deadly stroke,
- And humbly beg the death upon my knee.
- [He lays his breast open; she offers at it with his sword]
- Nay, do not pause; for I did kill King Henry-
- But 'twas thy beauty that provoked me.
- Nay, now dispatch; 'twas I that stabb'd young Edward-
- But 'twas thy heavenly face that set me on.
- [She falls the sword]
- Take up the sword again, or take up me.
- ANNE. Arise, dissembler; though I wish thy death,
- I will not be thy executioner.
- GLOUCESTER. Then bid me kill myself, and I will do it;
- ANNE. I have already.
- GLOUCESTER. That was in thy rage.
- Speak it again, and even with the word
- This hand, which for thy love did kill thy love,
- Shall for thy love kill a far truer love;
- To both their deaths shalt thou be accessary.
- ANNE. I would I knew thy heart.
- GLOUCESTER. 'Tis figur'd in my tongue.
- ANNE. I fear me both are false.
- GLOUCESTER. Then never was man true.
- ANNE. well put up your sword.
- GLOUCESTER. Say, then, my peace is made.
- ANNE. That shalt thou know hereafter.
- GLOUCESTER. But shall I live in hope?
- ANNE. All men, I hope, live so.
- GLOUCESTER. Vouchsafe to wear this ring.
- ANNE. To take is not to give. [Puts on the ring]
- GLOUCESTER. Look how my ring encompasseth thy finger,
- Even so thy breast encloseth my poor heart;
- Wear both of them, for both of them are thine.
- And if thy poor devoted servant may
- But beg one favour at thy gracious hand,
- Thou dost confirm his happiness for ever.
- ANNE. What is it?
- GLOUCESTER. That it may please you leave these sad designs
- To him that hath most cause to be a mourner,
- And presently repair to Crosby House;
- Where-after I have solemnly interr'd
- At Chertsey monast'ry this noble king,
- And wet his grave with my repentant tears-
- I will with all expedient duty see you.
- For divers unknown reasons, I beseech you,
- Grant me this boon.
- ANNE. With all my heart; and much it joys me too
- To see you are become so penitent.
- Tressel and Berkeley, go along with me.
- GLOUCESTER. Bid me farewell.
- ANNE. 'Tis more than you deserve;
- But since you teach me how to flatter you,
- Imagine I have said farewell already.
- Exeunt two GENTLEMEN With LADY ANNE
- GLOUCESTER. Sirs, take up the corse.
- GENTLEMEN. Towards Chertsey, noble lord?
- GLOUCESTER. No, to White Friars; there attend my coming.
- Exeunt all but GLOUCESTER
- Was ever woman in this humour woo'd?
- Was ever woman in this humour won?
- I'll have her; but I will not keep her long.
- What! I that kill'd her husband and his father-
- To take her in her heart's extremest hate,
- With curses in her mouth, tears in her eyes,
- The bleeding witness of my hatred by;
- Having God, her conscience, and these bars against me,
- And I no friends to back my suit at all
- But the plain devil and dissembling looks,
- And yet to win her, all the world to nothing!
- Ha!
- Hath she forgot already that brave prince,
- Edward, her lord, whom I, some three months since,
- Stabb'd in my angry mood at Tewksbury?
- A sweeter and a lovelier gentleman-
- Fram'd in the prodigality of nature,
- Young, valiant, wise, and no doubt right royal-
- The spacious world cannot again afford;
- And will she yet abase her eyes on me,
- That cropp'd the golden prime of this sweet prince
- And made her widow to a woeful bed?
- On me, whose all not equals Edward's moiety?
- On me, that halts and am misshapen thus?
- My dukedom to a beggarly denier,
- I do mistake my person all this while.
- Upon my life, she finds, although I cannot,
- Myself to be a marv'llous proper man.
- I'll be at charges for a looking-glass,
- And entertain a score or two of tailors
- To study fashions to adorn my body.
- Since I am crept in favour with myself,
- I will maintain it with some little cost.
- But first I'll turn yon fellow in his grave,
- And then return lamenting to my love.
- Shine out, fair sun, till I have bought a glass,
- That I may see my shadow as I pass. Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 3.
-
-London. The palace
-
-Enter QUEEN ELIZABETH, LORD RIVERS, and LORD GREY
-
- RIVERS. Have patience, madam; there's no doubt his Majesty
- Will soon recover his accustom'd health.
- GREY. In that you brook it ill, it makes him worse;
- Therefore, for God's sake, entertain good comfort,
- And cheer his Grace with quick and merry eyes.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. If he were dead, what would betide on
- me?
- GREY. No other harm but loss of such a lord.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. The loss of such a lord includes all
- harms.
- GREY. The heavens have bless'd you with a goodly son
- To be your comforter when he is gone.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. Ah, he is young; and his minority
- Is put unto the trust of Richard Gloucester,
- A man that loves not me, nor none of you.
- RIVER. Is it concluded he shall be Protector?
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. It is determin'd, not concluded yet;
- But so it must be, if the King miscarry.
-
- Enter BUCKINGHAM and DERBY
-
- GREY. Here come the Lords of Buckingham and Derby.
- BUCKINGHAM. Good time of day unto your royal Grace!
- DERBY. God make your Majesty joyful as you have been.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. The Countess Richmond, good my Lord
- of Derby,
- To your good prayer will scarcely say amen.
- Yet, Derby, notwithstanding she's your wife
- And loves not me, be you, good lord, assur'd
- I hate not you for her proud arrogance.
- DERBY. I do beseech you, either not believe
- The envious slanders of her false accusers;
- Or, if she be accus'd on true report,
- Bear with her weakness, which I think proceeds
- From wayward sickness and no grounded malice.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. Saw you the King to-day, my Lord of
- Derby?
- DERBY. But now the Duke of Buckingham and I
- Are come from visiting his Majesty.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. What likelihood of his amendment,
- Lords?
- BUCKINGHAM. Madam, good hope; his Grace speaks
- cheerfully.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. God grant him health! Did you confer
- with him?
- BUCKINGHAM. Ay, madam; he desires to make atonement
- Between the Duke of Gloucester and your brothers,
- And between them and my Lord Chamberlain;
- And sent to warn them to his royal presence.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. Would all were well! But that will
- never be.
- I fear our happiness is at the height.
-
- Enter GLOUCESTER, HASTINGS, and DORSET
-
- GLOUCESTER. They do me wrong, and I will not endure it.
- Who is it that complains unto the King
- That I, forsooth, am stern and love them not?
- By holy Paul, they love his Grace but lightly
- That fill his ears with such dissentious rumours.
- Because I cannot flatter and look fair,
- Smile in men's faces, smooth, deceive, and cog,
- Duck with French nods and apish courtesy,
- I must be held a rancorous enemy.
- Cannot a plain man live and think no harm
- But thus his simple truth must be abus'd
- With silken, sly, insinuating Jacks?
- GREY. To who in all this presence speaks your Grace?
- GLOUCESTER. To thee, that hast nor honesty nor grace.
- When have I injur'd thee? when done thee wrong,
- Or thee, or thee, or any of your faction?
- A plague upon you all! His royal Grace-
- Whom God preserve better than you would wish!-
- Cannot be quiet searce a breathing while
- But you must trouble him with lewd complaints.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. Brother of Gloucester, you mistake the
- matter.
- The King, on his own royal disposition
- And not provok'd by any suitor else-
- Aiming, belike, at your interior hatred
- That in your outward action shows itself
- Against my children, brothers, and myself-
- Makes him to send that he may learn the ground.
- GLOUCESTER. I cannot tell; the world is grown so bad
- That wrens make prey where eagles dare not perch.
- Since every Jack became a gentleman,
- There's many a gentle person made a Jack.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. Come, come, we know your meaning,
- brother Gloucester:
- You envy my advancement and my friends';
- God grant we never may have need of you!
- GLOUCESTER. Meantime, God grants that I have need of you.
- Our brother is imprison'd by your means,
- Myself disgrac'd, and the nobility
- Held in contempt; while great promotions
- Are daily given to ennoble those
- That scarce some two days since were worth a noble.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. By Him that rais'd me to this careful
- height
- From that contented hap which I enjoy'd,
- I never did incense his Majesty
- Against the Duke of Clarence, but have been
- An earnest advocate to plead for him.
- My lord, you do me shameful injury
- Falsely to draw me in these vile suspects.
- GLOUCESTER. You may deny that you were not the mean
- Of my Lord Hastings' late imprisonment.
- RIVERS. She may, my lord; for-
- GLOUCESTER. She may, Lord Rivers? Why, who knows
- not so?
- She may do more, sir, than denying that:
- She may help you to many fair preferments
- And then deny her aiding hand therein,
- And lay those honours on your high desert.
- What may she not? She may-ay, marry, may she-
- RIVERS. What, marry, may she?
- GLOUCESTER. What, marry, may she? Marry with a king,
- A bachelor, and a handsome stripling too.
- Iwis your grandam had a worser match.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. My Lord of Gloucester, I have too long
- borne
- Your blunt upbraidings and your bitter scoffs.
- By heaven, I will acquaint his Majesty
- Of those gross taunts that oft I have endur'd.
- I had rather be a country servant-maid
- Than a great queen with this condition-
- To be so baited, scorn'd, and stormed at.
-
- Enter old QUEEN MARGARET, behind
-
- Small joy have I in being England's Queen.
- QUEEN MARGARET. And less'ned be that small, God, I
- beseech Him!
- Thy honour, state, and seat, is due to me.
- GLOUCESTER. What! Threat you me with telling of the
- King?
- Tell him and spare not. Look what I have said
- I will avouch't in presence of the King.
- I dare adventure to be sent to th' Tow'r.
- 'Tis time to speak-my pains are quite forgot.
- QUEEN MARGARET. Out, devil! I do remember them to
- well:
- Thou kill'dst my husband Henry in the Tower,
- And Edward, my poor son, at Tewksbury.
- GLOUCESTER. Ere you were queen, ay, or your husband
- King,
- I was a pack-horse in his great affairs,
- A weeder-out of his proud adversaries,
- A liberal rewarder of his friends;
- To royalize his blood I spent mine own.
- QUEEN MARGARET. Ay, and much better blood than his or
- thine.
- GLOUCESTER. In all which time you and your husband Grey
- Were factious for the house of Lancaster;
- And, Rivers, so were you. Was not your husband
- In Margaret's battle at Saint Albans slain?
- Let me put in your minds, if you forget,
- What you have been ere this, and what you are;
- Withal, what I have been, and what I am.
- QUEEN MARGARET. A murd'rous villain, and so still thou art.
- GLOUCESTER. Poor Clarence did forsake his father, Warwick,
- Ay, and forswore himself-which Jesu pardon!-
- QUEEN MARGARET. Which God revenge!
- GLOUCESTER. To fight on Edward's party for the crown;
- And for his meed, poor lord, he is mewed up.
- I would to God my heart were flint like Edward's,
- Or Edward's soft and pitiful like mine.
- I am too childish-foolish for this world.
- QUEEN MARGARET. Hie thee to hell for shame and leave this
- world,
- Thou cacodemon; there thy kingdom is.
- RIVERS. My Lord of Gloucester, in those busy days
- Which here you urge to prove us enemies,
- We follow'd then our lord, our sovereign king.
- So should we you, if you should be our king.
- GLOUCESTER. If I should be! I had rather be a pedlar.
- Far be it from my heart, the thought thereof!
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. As little joy, my lord, as you suppose
- You should enjoy were you this country's king,
- As little joy you may suppose in me
- That I enjoy, being the Queen thereof.
- QUEEN MARGARET. As little joy enjoys the Queen thereof;
- For I am she, and altogether joyless.
- I can no longer hold me patient. [Advancing]
- Hear me, you wrangling pirates, that fall out
- In sharing that which you have pill'd from me.
- Which of you trembles not that looks on me?
- If not that, I am Queen, you bow like subjects,
- Yet that, by you depos'd, you quake like rebels?
- Ah, gentle villain, do not turn away!
- GLOUCESTER. Foul wrinkled witch, what mak'st thou in my
- sight?
- QUEEN MARGARET. But repetition of what thou hast marr'd,
- That will I make before I let thee go.
- GLOUCESTER. Wert thou not banished on pain of death?
- QUEEN MARGARET. I was; but I do find more pain in
- banishment
- Than death can yield me here by my abode.
- A husband and a son thou ow'st to me;
- And thou a kingdom; all of you allegiance.
- This sorrow that I have by right is yours;
- And all the pleasures you usurp are mine.
- GLOUCESTER. The curse my noble father laid on thee,
- When thou didst crown his warlike brows with paper
- And with thy scorns drew'st rivers from his eyes,
- And then to dry them gav'st the Duke a clout
- Steep'd in the faultless blood of pretty Rutland-
- His curses then from bitterness of soul
- Denounc'd against thee are all fall'n upon thee;
- And God, not we, hath plagu'd thy bloody deed.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. So just is God to right the innocent.
- HASTINGS. O, 'twas the foulest deed to slay that babe,
- And the most merciless that e'er was heard of!
- RIVERS. Tyrants themselves wept when it was reported.
- DORSET. No man but prophesied revenge for it.
- BUCKINGHAM. Northumberland, then present, wept to see it.
- QUEEN MARGARET. What, were you snarling all before I came,
- Ready to catch each other by the throat,
- And turn you all your hatred now on me?
- Did York's dread curse prevail so much with heaven
- That Henry's death, my lovely Edward's death,
- Their kingdom's loss, my woeful banishment,
- Should all but answer for that peevish brat?
- Can curses pierce the clouds and enter heaven?
- Why then, give way, dull clouds, to my quick curses!
- Though not by war, by surfeit die your king,
- As ours by murder, to make him a king!
- Edward thy son, that now is Prince of Wales,
- For Edward our son, that was Prince of Wales,
- Die in his youth by like untimely violence!
- Thyself a queen, for me that was a queen,
- Outlive thy glory, like my wretched self!
- Long mayest thou live to wail thy children's death,
- And see another, as I see thee now,
- Deck'd in thy rights, as thou art stall'd in mine!
- Long die thy happy days before thy death;
- And, after many length'ned hours of grief,
- Die neither mother, wife, nor England's Queen!
- Rivers and Dorset, you were standers by,
- And so wast thou, Lord Hastings, when my son
- Was stabb'd with bloody daggers. God, I pray him,
- That none of you may live his natural age,
- But by some unlook'd accident cut off!
- GLOUCESTER. Have done thy charm, thou hateful wither'd
- hag.
- QUEEN MARGARET. And leave out thee? Stay, dog, for thou
- shalt hear me.
- If heaven have any grievous plague in store
- Exceeding those that I can wish upon thee,
- O, let them keep it till thy sins be ripe,
- And then hurl down their indignation
- On thee, the troubler of the poor world's peace!
- The worm of conscience still be-gnaw thy soul!
- Thy friends suspect for traitors while thou liv'st,
- And take deep traitors for thy dearest friends!
- No sleep close up that deadly eye of thine,
- Unless it be while some tormenting dream
- Affrights thee with a hell of ugly devils!
- Thou elvish-mark'd, abortive, rooting hog,
- Thou that wast seal'd in thy nativity
- The slave of nature and the son of hell,
- Thou slander of thy heavy mother's womb,
- Thou loathed issue of thy father's loins,
- Thou rag of honour, thou detested-
- GLOUCESTER. Margaret!
- QUEEN MARGARET. Richard!
- GLOUCESTER. Ha?
- QUEEN MARGARET. I call thee not.
- GLOUCESTER. I cry thee mercy then, for I did think
- That thou hadst call'd me all these bitter names.
- QUEEN MARGARET. Why, so I did, but look'd for no reply.
- O, let me make the period to my curse!
- GLOUCESTER. 'Tis done by me, and ends in-Margaret.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. Thus have you breath'd your curse
- against yourself.
- QUEEN MARGARET. Poor painted queen, vain flourish of my
- fortune!
- Why strew'st thou sugar on that bottled spider
- Whose deadly web ensnareth thee about?
- Fool, fool! thou whet'st a knife to kill thyself.
- The day will come that thou shalt wish for me
- To help thee curse this poisonous bunch-back'd toad.
- HASTINGS. False-boding woman, end thy frantic curse,
- Lest to thy harm thou move our patience.
- QUEEN MARGARET. Foul shame upon you! you have all
- mov'd mine.
- RIVERS. Were you well serv'd, you would be taught your
- duty.
- QUEEN MARGARET. To serve me well you all should do me
- duty,
- Teach me to be your queen and you my subjects.
- O, serve me well, and teach yourselves that duty!
- DORSET. Dispute not with her; she is lunatic.
- QUEEN MARGARET. Peace, Master Marquis, you are malapert;
- Your fire-new stamp of honour is scarce current.
- O, that your young nobility could judge
- What 'twere to lose it and be miserable!
- They that stand high have many blasts to shake them,
- And if they fall they dash themselves to pieces.
- GLOUCESTER. Good counsel, marry; learn it, learn it, Marquis.
- DORSET. It touches you, my lord, as much as me.
- GLOUCESTER. Ay, and much more; but I was born so high,
- Our aery buildeth in the cedar's top,
- And dallies with the wind, and scorns the sun.
- QUEEN MARGARET. And turns the sun to shade-alas! alas!
- Witness my son, now in the shade of death,
- Whose bright out-shining beams thy cloudy wrath
- Hath in eternal darkness folded up.
- Your aery buildeth in our aery's nest.
- O God that seest it, do not suffer it;
- As it is won with blood, lost be it so!
- BUCKINGHAM. Peace, peace, for shame, if not for charity!
- QUEEN MARGARET. Urge neither charity nor shame to me.
- Uncharitably with me have you dealt,
- And shamefully my hopes by you are butcher'd.
- My charity is outrage, life my shame;
- And in that shame still live my sorrow's rage!
- BUCKINGHAM. Have done, have done.
- QUEEN MARGARET. O princely Buckingham, I'll kiss thy
- hand
- In sign of league and amity with thee.
- Now fair befall thee and thy noble house!
- Thy garments are not spotted with our blood,
- Nor thou within the compass of my curse.
- BUCKINGHAM. Nor no one here; for curses never pass
- The lips of those that breathe them in the air.
- QUEEN MARGARET. I will not think but they ascend the sky
- And there awake God's gentle-sleeping peace.
- O Buckingham, take heed of yonder dog!
- Look when he fawns, he bites; and when he bites,
- His venom tooth will rankle to the death:
- Have not to do with him, beware of him;
- Sin, death, and hell, have set their marks on him,
- And all their ministers attend on him.
- GLOUCESTER. What doth she say, my Lord of Buckingham?
- BUCKINGHAM. Nothing that I respect, my gracious lord.
- QUEEN MARGARET. What, dost thou scorn me for my gentle
- counsel,
- And soothe the devil that I warn thee from?
- O, but remember this another day,
- When he shall split thy very heart with sorrow,
- And say poor Margaret was a prophetess!
- Live each of you the subjects to his hate,
- And he to yours, and all of you to God's! Exit
- BUCKINGHAM. My hair doth stand an end to hear her curses.
- RIVERS. And so doth mine. I muse why she's at liberty.
- GLOUCESTER. I cannot blame her; by God's holy Mother,
- She hath had too much wrong; and I repent
- My part thereof that I have done to her.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. I never did her any to my knowledge.
- GLOUCESTER. Yet you have all the vantage of her wrong.
- I was too hot to do somebody good
- That is too cold in thinking of it now.
- Marry, as for Clarence, he is well repaid;
- He is frank'd up to fatting for his pains;
- God pardon them that are the cause thereof!
- RIVERS. A virtuous and a Christian-like conclusion,
- To pray for them that have done scathe to us!
- GLOUCESTER. So do I ever- [Aside] being well advis'd;
- For had I curs'd now, I had curs'd myself.
-
- Enter CATESBY
-
- CATESBY. Madam, his Majesty doth can for you,
- And for your Grace, and you, my gracious lords.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. Catesby, I come. Lords, will you go
- with me?
- RIVERS. We wait upon your Grace.
- Exeunt all but GLOUCESTER
- GLOUCESTER. I do the wrong, and first begin to brawl.
- The secret mischiefs that I set abroach
- I lay unto the grievous charge of others.
- Clarence, who I indeed have cast in darkness,
- I do beweep to many simple gulls;
- Namely, to Derby, Hastings, Buckingham;
- And tell them 'tis the Queen and her allies
- That stir the King against the Duke my brother.
- Now they believe it, and withal whet me
- To be reveng'd on Rivers, Dorset, Grey;
- But then I sigh and, with a piece of Scripture,
- Tell them that God bids us do good for evil.
- And thus I clothe my naked villainy
- With odd old ends stol'n forth of holy writ,
- And seem a saint when most I play the devil.
-
- Enter two MURDERERS
-
- But, soft, here come my executioners.
- How now, my hardy stout resolved mates!
- Are you now going to dispatch this thing?
- FIRST MURDERER. We are, my lord, and come to have the
- warrant,
- That we may be admitted where he is.
- GLOUCESTER. Well thought upon; I have it here about me.
- [Gives the warrant]
- When you have done, repair to Crosby Place.
- But, sirs, be sudden in the execution,
- Withal obdurate, do not hear him plead;
- For Clarence is well-spoken, and perhaps
- May move your hearts to pity, if you mark him.
- FIRST MURDERER. Tut, tut, my lord, we will not stand to
- prate;
- Talkers are no good doers. Be assur'd
- We go to use our hands and not our tongues.
- GLOUCESTER. Your eyes drop millstones when fools' eyes fall
- tears.
- I like you, lads; about your business straight;
- Go, go, dispatch.
- FIRST MURDERER. We will, my noble lord. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 4.
-
-London. The Tower
-
-Enter CLARENCE and KEEPER
-
- KEEPER. Why looks your Grace so heavily to-day?
- CLARENCE. O, I have pass'd a miserable night,
- So full of fearful dreams, of ugly sights,
- That, as I am a Christian faithful man,
- I would not spend another such a night
- Though 'twere to buy a world of happy days-
- So full of dismal terror was the time!
- KEEPER. What was your dream, my lord? I pray you
- tell me.
- CLARENCE. Methoughts that I had broken from the Tower
- And was embark'd to cross to Burgundy;
- And in my company my brother Gloucester,
- Who from my cabin tempted me to walk
- Upon the hatches. Thence we look'd toward England,
- And cited up a thousand heavy times,
- During the wars of York and Lancaster,
- That had befall'n us. As we pac'd along
- Upon the giddy footing of the hatches,
- Methought that Gloucester stumbled, and in falling
- Struck me, that thought to stay him, overboard
- Into the tumbling billows of the main.
- O Lord, methought what pain it was to drown,
- What dreadful noise of waters in my ears,
- What sights of ugly death within my eyes!
- Methoughts I saw a thousand fearful wrecks,
- A thousand men that fishes gnaw'd upon,
- Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl,
- Inestimable stones, unvalued jewels,
- All scatt'red in the bottom of the sea;
- Some lay in dead men's skulls, and in the holes
- Where eyes did once inhabit there were crept,
- As 'twere in scorn of eyes, reflecting gems,
- That woo'd the slimy bottom of the deep
- And mock'd the dead bones that lay scatt'red by.
- KEEPER. Had you such leisure in the time of death
- To gaze upon these secrets of the deep?
- CLARENCE. Methought I had; and often did I strive
- To yield the ghost, but still the envious flood
- Stopp'd in my soul and would not let it forth
- To find the empty, vast, and wand'ring air;
- But smother'd it within my panting bulk,
- Who almost burst to belch it in the sea.
- KEEPER. Awak'd you not in this sore agony?
- CLARENCE. No, no, my dream was lengthen'd after life.
- O, then began the tempest to my soul!
- I pass'd, methought, the melancholy flood
- With that sour ferryman which poets write of,
- Unto the kingdom of perpetual night.
- The first that there did greet my stranger soul
- Was my great father-in-law, renowned Warwick,
- Who spake aloud 'What scourge for perjury
- Can this dark monarchy afford false Clarence?'
- And so he vanish'd. Then came wand'ring by
- A shadow like an angel, with bright hair
- Dabbled in blood, and he shriek'd out aloud
- 'Clarence is come-false, fleeting, perjur'd Clarence,
- That stabb'd me in the field by Tewksbury.
- Seize on him, Furies, take him unto torment!'
- With that, methoughts, a legion of foul fiends
- Environ'd me, and howled in mine ears
- Such hideous cries that, with the very noise,
- I trembling wak'd, and for a season after
- Could not believe but that I was in hell,
- Such terrible impression made my dream.
- KEEPER. No marvel, lord, though it affrighted you;
- I am afraid, methinks, to hear you tell it.
- CLARENCE. Ah, Keeper, Keeper, I have done these things
- That now give evidence against my soul
- For Edward's sake, and see how he requites me!
- O God! If my deep prayers cannot appease Thee,
- But Thou wilt be aveng'd on my misdeeds,
- Yet execute Thy wrath in me alone;
- O, spare my guiltless wife and my poor children!
- KEEPER, I prithee sit by me awhile;
- My soul is heavy, and I fain would sleep.
- KEEPER. I will, my lord. God give your Grace good rest.
- [CLARENCE sleeps]
-
- Enter BRAKENBURY the Lieutenant
-
- BRAKENBURY. Sorrow breaks seasons and reposing hours,
- Makes the night morning and the noontide night.
- Princes have but their titles for their glories,
- An outward honour for an inward toil;
- And for unfelt imaginations
- They often feel a world of restless cares,
- So that between their tides and low name
- There's nothing differs but the outward fame.
-
- Enter the two MURDERERS
-
- FIRST MURDERER. Ho! who's here?
- BRAKENBURY. What wouldst thou, fellow, and how cam'st
- thou hither?
- FIRST MURDERER. I would speak with Clarence, and I came
- hither on my legs.
- BRAKENBURY. What, so brief?
- SECOND MURDERER. 'Tis better, sir, than to be tedious. Let
- him see our commission and talk no more.
- [BRAKENBURY reads it]
- BRAKENBURY. I am, in this, commanded to deliver
- The noble Duke of Clarence to your hands.
- I will not reason what is meant hereby,
- Because I will be guiltless from the meaning.
- There lies the Duke asleep; and there the keys.
- I'll to the King and signify to him
- That thus I have resign'd to you my charge.
- FIRST MURDERER. You may, sir; 'tis a point of wisdom. Fare
- you well. Exeunt BRAKENBURY and KEEPER
- SECOND MURDERER. What, shall I stab him as he sleeps?
- FIRST MURDERER. No; he'll say 'twas done cowardly, when
- he wakes.
- SECOND MURDERER. Why, he shall never wake until the great
- judgment-day.
- FIRST MURDERER. Why, then he'll say we stabb'd him
- sleeping.
- SECOND MURDERER. The urging of that word judgment hath
- bred a kind of remorse in me.
- FIRST MURDERER. What, art thou afraid?
- SECOND MURDERER. Not to kill him, having a warrant; but to
- be damn'd for killing him, from the which no warrant can
- defend me.
- FIRST MURDERER. I thought thou hadst been resolute.
- SECOND MURDERER. So I am, to let him live.
- FIRST MURDERER. I'll back to the Duke of Gloucester and
- tell him so.
- SECOND MURDERER. Nay, I prithee, stay a little. I hope this
- passionate humour of mine will change; it was wont to
- hold me but while one tells twenty.
- FIRST MURDERER. How dost thou feel thyself now?
- SECOND MURDERER. Faith, some certain dregs of conscience
- are yet within me.
- FIRST MURDERER. Remember our reward, when the deed's
- done.
- SECOND MURDERER. Zounds, he dies; I had forgot the reward.
- FIRST MURDERER. Where's thy conscience now?
- SECOND MURDERER. O, in the Duke of Gloucester's purse!
- FIRST MURDERER. When he opens his purse to give us our
- reward, thy conscience flies out.
- SECOND MURDERER. 'Tis no matter; let it go; there's few or
- none will entertain it.
- FIRST MURDERER. What if it come to thee again?
- SECOND MURDERER. I'll not meddle with it-it makes a man
- coward: a man cannot steal, but it accuseth him; a man
- cannot swear, but it checks him; a man cannot lie with his
- neighbour's wife, but it detects him. 'Tis a blushing shame-
- fac'd spirit that mutinies in a man's bosom; it fills a man
- full of obstacles: it made me once restore a purse of gold
- that-by chance I found. It beggars any man that keeps it.
- It is turn'd out of towns and cities for a dangerous thing;
- and every man that means to live well endeavours to trust
- to himself and live without it.
- FIRST MURDERER. Zounds, 'tis even now at my elbow,
- persuading me not to kill the Duke.
- SECOND MURDERER. Take the devil in thy mind and believe
- him not; he would insinuate with thee but to make the
- sigh.
- FIRST MURDERER. I am strong-fram'd; he cannot prevail with
- me.
- SECOND MURDERER. Spoke like a tall man that respects thy
- reputation. Come, shall we fall to work?
- FIRST MURDERER. Take him on the costard with the hilts of
- thy sword, and then chop him in the malmsey-butt in the
- next room.
- SECOND MURDERER. O excellent device! and make a sop of
- him.
- FIRST MURDERER. Soft! he wakes.
- SECOND MURDERER. Strike!
- FIRST MURDERER. No, we'll reason with him.
- CLARENCE. Where art thou, Keeper? Give me a cup of wine.
- SECOND MURDERER. You shall have wine enough, my lord,
- anon.
- CLARENCE. In God's name, what art thou?
- FIRST MURDERER. A man, as you are.
- CLARENCE. But not as I am, royal.
- SECOND MURDERER. Nor you as we are, loyal.
- CLARENCE. Thy voice is thunder, but thy looks are humble.
- FIRST MURDERER. My voice is now the King's, my looks
- mine own.
- CLARENCE. How darkly and how deadly dost thou speak!
- Your eyes do menace me. Why look you pale?
- Who sent you hither? Wherefore do you come?
- SECOND MURDERER. To, to, to-
- CLARENCE. To murder me?
- BOTH MURDERERS. Ay, ay.
- CLARENCE. You scarcely have the hearts to tell me so,
- And therefore cannot have the hearts to do it.
- Wherein, my friends, have I offended you?
- FIRST MURDERER. Offended us you have not, but the King.
- CLARENCE. I shall be reconcil'd to him again.
- SECOND MURDERER. Never, my lord; therefore prepare to die.
- CLARENCE. Are you drawn forth among a world of men
- To slay the innocent? What is my offence?
- Where is the evidence that doth accuse me?
- What lawful quest have given their verdict up
- Unto the frowning judge, or who pronounc'd
- The bitter sentence of poor Clarence' death?
- Before I be convict by course of law,
- To threaten me with death is most unlawful.
- I charge you, as you hope to have redemption
- By Christ's dear blood shed for our grievous sins,
- That you depart and lay no hands on me.
- The deed you undertake is damnable.
- FIRST MURDERER. What we will do, we do upon command.
- SECOND MURDERER. And he that hath commanded is our
- King.
- CLARENCE. Erroneous vassals! the great King of kings
- Hath in the tables of his law commanded
- That thou shalt do no murder. Will you then
- Spurn at his edict and fulfil a man's?
- Take heed; for he holds vengeance in his hand
- To hurl upon their heads that break his law.
- SECOND MURDERER. And that same vengeance doth he hurl
- on thee
- For false forswearing, and for murder too;
- Thou didst receive the sacrament to fight
- In quarrel of the house of Lancaster.
- FIRST MURDERER. And like a traitor to the name of God
- Didst break that vow; and with thy treacherous blade
- Unripp'dst the bowels of thy sov'reign's son.
- SECOND MURDERER. Whom thou wast sworn to cherish and
- defend.
- FIRST MURDERER. How canst thou urge God's dreadful law
- to us,
- When thou hast broke it in such dear degree?
- CLARENCE. Alas! for whose sake did I that ill deed?
- For Edward, for my brother, for his sake.
- He sends you not to murder me for this,
- For in that sin he is as deep as I.
- If God will be avenged for the deed,
- O, know you yet He doth it publicly.
- Take not the quarrel from His pow'rful arm;
- He needs no indirect or lawless course
- To cut off those that have offended Him.
- FIRST MURDERER. Who made thee then a bloody minister
- When gallant-springing brave Plantagenet,
- That princely novice, was struck dead by thee?
- CLARENCE. My brother's love, the devil, and my rage.
- FIRST MURDERER. Thy brother's love, our duty, and thy
- faults,
- Provoke us hither now to slaughter thee.
- CLARENCE. If you do love my brother, hate not me;
- I am his brother, and I love him well.
- If you are hir'd for meed, go back again,
- And I will send you to my brother Gloucester,
- Who shall reward you better for my life
- Than Edward will for tidings of my death.
- SECOND MURDERER. You are deceiv'd: your brother Gloucester
- hates you.
- CLARENCE. O, no, he loves me, and he holds me dear.
- Go you to him from me.
- FIRST MURDERER. Ay, so we will.
- CLARENCE. Tell him when that our princely father York
- Bless'd his three sons with his victorious arm
- And charg'd us from his soul to love each other,
- He little thought of this divided friendship.
- Bid Gloucester think of this, and he will weep.
- FIRST MURDERER. Ay, millstones; as he lesson'd us to weep.
- CLARENCE. O, do not slander him, for he is kind.
- FIRST MURDERER. Right, as snow in harvest. Come, you
- deceive yourself:
- 'Tis he that sends us to destroy you here.
- CLARENCE. It cannot be; for he bewept my fortune
- And hugg'd me in his arms, and swore with sobs
- That he would labour my delivery.
- FIRST MURDERER. Why, so he doth, when he delivers you
- From this earth's thraldom to the joys of heaven.
- SECOND MURDERER. Make peace with God, for you must die,
- my lord.
- CLARENCE. Have you that holy feeling in your souls
- To counsel me to make my peace with God,
- And are you yet to your own souls so blind
- That you will war with God by murd'ring me?
- O, sirs, consider: they that set you on
- To do this deed will hate you for the deed.
- SECOND MURDERER. What shall we do?
- CLARENCE. Relent, and save your souls.
- FIRST MURDERER. Relent! No, 'tis cowardly and womanish.
- CLARENCE. Not to relent is beastly, savage, devilish.
- Which of you, if you were a prince's son,
- Being pent from liberty as I am now,
- If two such murderers as yourselves came to you,
- Would not entreat for life?
- My friend, I spy some pity in thy looks;
- O, if thine eye be not a flatterer,
- Come thou on my side and entreat for me-
- As you would beg were you in my distress.
- A begging prince what beggar pities not?
- SECOND MURDERER. Look behind you, my lord.
- FIRST MURDERER. [Stabbing him] Take that, and that. If all
- this will not do,
- I'll drown you in the malmsey-butt within.
- Exit with the body
- SECOND MURDERER. A bloody deed, and desperately
- dispatch'd!
- How fain, like Pilate, would I wash my hands
- Of this most grievous murder!
-
- Re-enter FIRST MURDERER
-
- FIRST MURDERER-How now, what mean'st thou that thou
- help'st me not?
- By heavens, the Duke shall know how slack you have
- been!
- SECOND MURDERER. I would he knew that I had sav'd his
- brother!
- Take thou the fee, and tell him what I say;
- For I repent me that the Duke is slain. Exit
- FIRST MURDERER. So do not I. Go, coward as thou art.
- Well, I'll go hide the body in some hole,
- Till that the Duke give order for his burial;
- And when I have my meed, I will away;
- For this will out, and then I must not stay. Exit
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT II. SCENE 1.
-
-London. The palace
-
-Flourish. Enter KING EDWARD sick, QUEEN ELIZABETH, DORSET, RIVERS,
-HASTINGS, BUCKINGHAM, GREY, and others
-
- KING EDWARD. Why, so. Now have I done a good day's
- work.
- You peers, continue this united league.
- I every day expect an embassage
- From my Redeemer to redeem me hence;
- And more at peace my soul shall part to heaven,
- Since I have made my friends at peace on earth.
- Hastings and Rivers, take each other's hand;
- Dissemble not your hatred, swear your love.
- RIVERS. By heaven, my soul is purg'd from grudging hate;
- And with my hand I seal my true heart's love.
- HASTINGS. So thrive I, as I truly swear the like!
- KING EDWARD. Take heed you dally not before your king;
- Lest He that is the supreme King of kings
- Confound your hidden falsehood and award
- Either of you to be the other's end.
- HASTINGS. So prosper I, as I swear perfect love!
- RIVERS. And I, as I love Hastings with my heart!
- KING EDWARD. Madam, yourself is not exempt from this;
- Nor you, son Dorset; Buckingham, nor you:
- You have been factious one against the other.
- Wife, love Lord Hastings, let him kiss your hand;
- And what you do, do it unfeignedly.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. There, Hastings; I will never more
- remember
- Our former hatred, so thrive I and mine!
- KING EDWARD. Dorset, embrace him; Hastings, love Lord
- Marquis.
- DORSET. This interchange of love, I here protest,
- Upon my part shall be inviolable.
- HASTINGS. And so swear I. [They embrace]
- KING EDWARD. Now, princely Buckingham, seal thou this
- league
- With thy embracements to my wife's allies,
- And make me happy in your unity.
- BUCKINGHAM. [To the QUEEN] Whenever Buckingham
- doth turn his hate
- Upon your Grace, but with all duteous love
- Doth cherish you and yours, God punish me
- With hate in those where I expect most love!
- When I have most need to employ a friend
- And most assured that he is a friend,
- Deep, hollow, treacherous, and full of guile,
- Be he unto me! This do I beg of God
- When I am cold in love to you or yours.
- [They embrace]
- KING EDWARD. A pleasing cordial, princely Buckingham,
- Is this thy vow unto my sickly heart.
- There wanteth now our brother Gloucester here
- To make the blessed period of this peace.
- BUCKINGHAM. And, in good time,
- Here comes Sir Richard Ratcliff and the Duke.
-
- Enter GLOUCESTER, and RATCLIFF
-
- GLOUCESTER. Good morrow to my sovereign king and
- Queen;
- And, princely peers, a happy time of day!
- KING EDWARD. Happy, indeed, as we have spent the day.
- Gloucester, we have done deeds of charity,
- Made peace of enmity, fair love of hate,
- Between these swelling wrong-incensed peers.
- GLOUCESTER. A blessed labour, my most sovereign lord.
- Among this princely heap, if any here,
- By false intelligence or wrong surmise,
- Hold me a foe-
- If I unwittingly, or in my rage,
- Have aught committed that is hardly borne
- To any in this presence, I desire
- To reconcile me to his friendly peace:
- 'Tis death to me to be at enmity;
- I hate it, and desire all good men's love.
- First, madam, I entreat true peace of you,
- Which I will purchase with my duteous service;
- Of you, my noble cousin Buckingham,
- If ever any grudge were lodg'd between us;
- Of you, and you, Lord Rivers, and of Dorset,
- That all without desert have frown'd on me;
- Of you, Lord Woodville, and, Lord Scales, of you;
- Dukes, earls, lords, gentlemen-indeed, of all.
- I do not know that Englishman alive
- With whom my soul is any jot at odds
- More than the infant that is born to-night.
- I thank my God for my humility.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. A holy day shall this be kept hereafter.
- I would to God all strifes were well compounded.
- My sovereign lord, I do beseech your Highness
- To take our brother Clarence to your grace.
- GLOUCESTER. Why, madam, have I off'red love for this,
- To be so flouted in this royal presence?
- Who knows not that the gentle Duke is dead?
- [They all start]
- You do him injury to scorn his corse.
- KING EDWARD. Who knows not he is dead! Who knows
- he is?
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. All-seeing heaven, what a world is this!
- BUCKINGHAM. Look I so pale, Lord Dorset, as the rest?
- DORSET. Ay, my good lord; and no man in the presence
- But his red colour hath forsook his cheeks.
- KING EDWARD. Is Clarence dead? The order was revers'd.
- GLOUCESTER. But he, poor man, by your first order died,
- And that a winged Mercury did bear;
- Some tardy cripple bare the countermand
- That came too lag to see him buried.
- God grant that some, less noble and less loyal,
- Nearer in bloody thoughts, an not in blood,
- Deserve not worse than wretched Clarence did,
- And yet go current from suspicion!
-
- Enter DERBY
-
- DERBY. A boon, my sovereign, for my service done!
- KING EDWARD. I prithee, peace; my soul is full of sorrow.
- DERBY. I Will not rise unless your Highness hear me.
- KING EDWARD. Then say at once what is it thou requests.
- DERBY. The forfeit, sovereign, of my servant's life;
- Who slew to-day a riotous gentleman
- Lately attendant on the Duke of Norfolk.
- KING EDWARD. Have I a tongue to doom my brother's death,
- And shall that tongue give pardon to a slave?
- My brother killed no man-his fault was thought,
- And yet his punishment was bitter death.
- Who sued to me for him? Who, in my wrath,
- Kneel'd at my feet, and bid me be advis'd?
- Who spoke of brotherhood? Who spoke of love?
- Who told me how the poor soul did forsake
- The mighty Warwick and did fight for me?
- Who told me, in the field at Tewksbury
- When Oxford had me down, he rescued me
- And said 'Dear Brother, live, and be a king'?
- Who told me, when we both lay in the field
- Frozen almost to death, how he did lap me
- Even in his garments, and did give himself,
- All thin and naked, to the numb cold night?
- All this from my remembrance brutish wrath
- Sinfully pluck'd, and not a man of you
- Had so much race to put it in my mind.
- But when your carters or your waiting-vassals
- Have done a drunken slaughter and defac'd
- The precious image of our dear Redeemer,
- You straight are on your knees for pardon, pardon;
- And I, unjustly too, must grant it you. [DERBY rises]
- But for my brother not a man would speak;
- Nor I, ungracious, speak unto myself
- For him, poor soul. The proudest of you all
- Have been beholding to him in his life;
- Yet none of you would once beg for his life.
- O God, I fear thy justice will take hold
- On me, and you, and mine, and yours, for this!
- Come, Hastings, help me to my closet. Ah, poor Clarence!
- Exeunt some with KING and QUEEN
- GLOUCESTER. This is the fruits of rashness. Mark'd you not
- How that the guilty kindred of the Queen
- Look'd pale when they did hear of Clarence' death?
- O, they did urge it still unto the King!
- God will revenge it. Come, lords, will you go
- To comfort Edward with our company?
- BUCKINGHAM. We wait upon your Grace. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 2.
-
-London. The palace
-
-Enter the old DUCHESS OF YORK, with the SON and DAUGHTER of CLARENCE
-
- SON. Good grandam, tell us, is our father dead?
- DUCHESS. No, boy.
- DAUGHTER. Why do you weep so oft, and beat your breast,
- And cry 'O Clarence, my unhappy son!'?
- SON. Why do you look on us, and shake your head,
- And call us orphans, wretches, castaways,
- If that our noble father were alive?
- DUCHESS. My pretty cousins, you mistake me both;
- I do lament the sickness of the King,
- As loath to lose him, not your father's death;
- It were lost sorrow to wail one that's lost.
- SON. Then you conclude, my grandam, he is dead.
- The King mine uncle is to blame for it.
- God will revenge it; whom I will importune
- With earnest prayers all to that effect.
- DAUGHTER. And so will I.
- DUCHESS. Peace, children, peace! The King doth love you
- well.
- Incapable and shallow innocents,
- You cannot guess who caus'd your father's death.
- SON. Grandam, we can; for my good uncle Gloucester
- Told me the King, provok'd to it by the Queen,
- Devis'd impeachments to imprison him.
- And when my uncle told me so, he wept,
- And pitied me, and kindly kiss'd my cheek;
- Bade me rely on him as on my father,
- And he would love me dearly as a child.
- DUCHESS. Ah, that deceit should steal such gentle shape,
- And with a virtuous vizor hide deep vice!
- He is my son; ay, and therein my shame;
- Yet from my dugs he drew not this deceit.
- SON. Think you my uncle did dissemble, grandam?
- DUCHESS. Ay, boy.
- SON. I cannot think it. Hark! what noise is this?
-
- Enter QUEEN ELIZABETH, with her hair about her
- ears; RIVERS and DORSET after her
-
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. Ah, who shall hinder me to wail and
- weep,
- To chide my fortune, and torment myself?
- I'll join with black despair against my soul
- And to myself become an enemy.
- DUCHESS. What means this scene of rude impatience?
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. To make an act of tragic violence.
- EDWARD, my lord, thy son, our king, is dead.
- Why grow the branches when the root is gone?
- Why wither not the leaves that want their sap?
- If you will live, lament; if die, be brief,
- That our swift-winged souls may catch the King's,
- Or like obedient subjects follow him
- To his new kingdom of ne'er-changing night.
- DUCHESS. Ah, so much interest have I in thy sorrow
- As I had title in thy noble husband!
- I have bewept a worthy husband's death,
- And liv'd with looking on his images;
- But now two mirrors of his princely semblance
- Are crack'd in pieces by malignant death,
- And I for comfort have but one false glass,
- That grieves me when I see my shame in him.
- Thou art a widow, yet thou art a mother
- And hast the comfort of thy children left;
- But death hath snatch'd my husband from mine arms
- And pluck'd two crutches from my feeble hands-
- Clarence and Edward. O, what cause have I-
- Thine being but a moiety of my moan-
- To overgo thy woes and drown thy cries?
- SON. Ah, aunt, you wept not for our father's death!
- How can we aid you with our kindred tears?
- DAUGHTER. Our fatherless distress was left unmoan'd;
- Your widow-dolour likewise be unwept!
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. Give me no help in lamentation;
- I am not barren to bring forth complaints.
- All springs reduce their currents to mine eyes
- That I, being govern'd by the watery moon,
- May send forth plenteous tears to drown the world!
- Ah for my husband, for my dear Lord Edward!
- CHILDREN. Ah for our father, for our dear Lord Clarence!
- DUCHESS. Alas for both, both mine, Edward and Clarence!
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. What stay had I but Edward? and he's
- gone.
- CHILDREN. What stay had we but Clarence? and he's gone.
- DUCHESS. What stays had I but they? and they are gone.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. Was never widow had so dear a loss.
- CHILDREN. Were never orphans had so dear a loss.
- DUCHESS. Was never mother had so dear a loss.
- Alas, I am the mother of these griefs!
- Their woes are parcell'd, mine is general.
- She for an Edward weeps, and so do I:
- I for a Clarence weep, so doth not she.
- These babes for Clarence weep, and so do I:
- I for an Edward weep, so do not they.
- Alas, you three on me, threefold distress'd,
- Pour all your tears! I am your sorrow's nurse,
- And I will pamper it with lamentation.
- DORSET. Comfort, dear mother. God is much displeas'd
- That you take with unthankfulness his doing.
- In common worldly things 'tis called ungrateful
- With dull unwillingness to repay a debt
- Which with a bounteous hand was kindly lent;
- Much more to be thus opposite with heaven,
- For it requires the royal debt it lent you.
- RIVERS. Madam, bethink you, like a careful mother,
- Of the young prince your son. Send straight for him;
- Let him be crown'd; in him your comfort lives.
- Drown desperate sorrow in dead Edward's grave,
- And plant your joys in living Edward's throne.
-
- Enter GLOUCESTER, BUCKINGHAM, DERBY,
- HASTINGS, and RATCLIFF
-
- GLOUCESTER. Sister, have comfort. All of us have cause
- To wail the dimming of our shining star;
- But none can help our harms by wailing them.
- Madam, my mother, I do cry you mercy;
- I did not see your Grace. Humbly on my knee
- I crave your blessing.
- DUCHESS. God bless thee; and put meekness in thy breast,
- Love, charity, obedience, and true duty!
- GLOUCESTER. Amen! [Aside] And make me die a good old
- man!
- That is the butt end of a mother's blessing;
- I marvel that her Grace did leave it out.
- BUCKINGHAM. You cloudy princes and heart-sorrowing
- peers,
- That bear this heavy mutual load of moan,
- Now cheer each other in each other's love.
- Though we have spent our harvest of this king,
- We are to reap the harvest of his son.
- The broken rancour of your high-swol'n hearts,
- But lately splinter'd, knit, and join'd together,
- Must gently be preserv'd, cherish'd, and kept.
- Me seemeth good that, with some little train,
- Forthwith from Ludlow the young prince be fet
- Hither to London, to be crown'd our King.
-
- RIVERS. Why with some little train, my Lord of
- Buckingham?
- BUCKINGHAM. Marry, my lord, lest by a multitude
- The new-heal'd wound of malice should break out,
- Which would be so much the more dangerous
- By how much the estate is green and yet ungovern'd;
- Where every horse bears his commanding rein
- And may direct his course as please himself,
- As well the fear of harm as harm apparent,
- In my opinion, ought to be prevented.
- GLOUCESTER. I hope the King made peace with all of us;
- And the compact is firm and true in me.
- RIVERS. And so in me; and so, I think, in an.
- Yet, since it is but green, it should be put
- To no apparent likelihood of breach,
- Which haply by much company might be urg'd;
- Therefore I say with noble Buckingham
- That it is meet so few should fetch the Prince.
- HASTINGS. And so say I.
- GLOUCESTER. Then be it so; and go we to determine
- Who they shall be that straight shall post to Ludlow.
- Madam, and you, my sister, will you go
- To give your censures in this business?
- Exeunt all but BUCKINGHAM and GLOUCESTER
- BUCKINGHAM. My lord, whoever journeys to the Prince,
- For God sake, let not us two stay at home;
- For by the way I'll sort occasion,
- As index to the story we late talk'd of,
- To part the Queen's proud kindred from the Prince.
- GLOUCESTER. My other self, my counsel's consistory,
- My oracle, my prophet, my dear cousin,
- I, as a child, will go by thy direction.
- Toward Ludlow then, for we'll not stay behind. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 3.
-
-London. A street
-
-Enter one CITIZEN at one door, and another at the other
-
- FIRST CITIZEN. Good morrow, neighbour. Whither away so
- fast?
- SECOND CITIZEN. I promise you, I scarcely know myself.
- Hear you the news abroad?
- FIRST CITIZEN. Yes, that the King is dead.
- SECOND CITIZEN. Ill news, by'r lady; seldom comes the
- better.
- I fear, I fear 'twill prove a giddy world.
-
- Enter another CITIZEN
-
- THIRD CITIZEN. Neighbours, God speed!
- FIRST CITIZEN. Give you good morrow, sir.
- THIRD CITIZEN. Doth the news hold of good King Edward's
- death?
- SECOND CITIZEN. Ay, sir, it is too true; God help the while!
- THIRD CITIZEN. Then, masters, look to see a troublous
- world.
- FIRST CITIZEN. No, no; by God's good grace, his son shall
- reign.
- THIRD CITIZEN. Woe to that land that's govern'd by a child.
- SECOND CITIZEN. In him there is a hope of government,
- Which, in his nonage, council under him,
- And, in his full and ripened years, himself,
- No doubt, shall then, and till then, govern well.
- FIRST CITIZEN. So stood the state when Henry the Sixth
- Was crown'd in Paris but at nine months old.
- THIRD CITIZEN. Stood the state so? No, no, good friends,
- God wot;
- For then this land was famously enrich'd
- With politic grave counsel; then the King
- Had virtuous uncles to protect his Grace.
- FIRST CITIZEN. Why, so hath this, both by his father and
- mother.
- THIRD CITIZEN. Better it were they all came by his father,
- Or by his father there were none at all;
- For emulation who shall now be nearest
- Will touch us all too near, if God prevent not.
- O, full of danger is the Duke of Gloucester!
- And the Queen's sons and brothers haught and proud;
- And were they to be rul'd, and not to rule,
- This sickly land might solace as before.
- FIRST CITIZEN. Come, come, we fear the worst; all will be
- well.
- THIRD CITIZEN. When clouds are seen, wise men put on
- their cloaks;
- When great leaves fall, then winter is at hand;
- When the sun sets, who doth not look for night?
- Untimely storms make men expect a dearth.
- All may be well; but, if God sort it so,
- 'Tis more than we deserve or I expect.
- SECOND CITIZEN. Truly, the hearts of men are fun of fear.
- You cannot reason almost with a man
- That looks not heavily and fun of dread.
- THIRD CITIZEN. Before the days of change, still is it so;
- By a divine instinct men's minds mistrust
- Ensuing danger; as by proof we see
- The water swell before a boist'rous storm.
- But leave it all to God. Whither away?
- SECOND CITIZEN. Marry, we were sent for to the justices.
- THIRD CITIZEN. And so was I; I'll bear you company.
- Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 4.
-
-London. The palace
-
-Enter the ARCHBISHOP OF YORK, the young DUKE OF YORK, QUEEN ELIZABETH,
-and the DUCHESS OF YORK
-
- ARCHBISHOP. Last night, I hear, they lay at Stony Stratford,
- And at Northampton they do rest to-night;
- To-morrow or next day they will be here.
- DUCHESS. I long with all my heart to see the Prince.
- I hope he is much grown since last I saw him.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. But I hear no; they say my son of York
- Has almost overta'en him in his growth.
- YORK. Ay, mother; but I would not have it so.
- DUCHESS. Why, my good cousin, it is good to grow.
- YORK. Grandam, one night as we did sit at supper,
- My uncle Rivers talk'd how I did grow
- More than my brother. 'Ay,' quoth my uncle Gloucester
- 'Small herbs have grace: great weeds do grow apace.'
- And since, methinks, I would not grow so fast,
- Because sweet flow'rs are slow and weeds make haste.
- DUCHESS. Good faith, good faith, the saying did not hold
- In him that did object the same to thee.
- He was the wretched'st thing when he was young,
- So long a-growing and so leisurely
- That, if his rule were true, he should be gracious.
- ARCHBISHOP. And so no doubt he is, my gracious madam.
- DUCHESS. I hope he is; but yet let mothers doubt.
- YORK. Now, by my troth, if I had been rememb'red,
- I could have given my uncle's Grace a flout
- To touch his growth nearer than he touch'd mine.
- DUCHESS. How, my young York? I prithee let me hear it.
- YORK. Marry, they say my uncle grew so fast
- That he could gnaw a crust at two hours old.
- 'Twas full two years ere I could get a tooth.
- Grandam, this would have been a biting jest.
- DUCHESS. I prithee, pretty York, who told thee this?
- YORK. Grandam, his nurse.
- DUCHESS. His nurse! Why she was dead ere thou wast
- born.
- YORK. If 'twere not she, I cannot tell who told me.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. A parlous boy! Go to, you are too
- shrewd.
- ARCHBISHOP. Good madam, be not angry with the child.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. Pitchers have ears.
-
- Enter a MESSENGER
-
- ARCHBISHOP. Here comes a messenger. What news?
- MESSENGER. Such news, my lord, as grieves me to report.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. How doth the Prince?
- MESSENGER. Well, madam, and in health.
- DUCHESS. What is thy news?
- MESSENGER. Lord Rivers and Lord Grey
- Are sent to Pomfret, and with them
- Sir Thomas Vaughan, prisoners.
- DUCHESS. Who hath committed them?
- MESSENGER. The mighty Dukes, Gloucester and Buckingham.
- ARCHBISHOP. For what offence?
- MESSENGER. The sum of all I can, I have disclos'd.
- Why or for what the nobles were committed
- Is all unknown to me, my gracious lord.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. Ay me, I see the ruin of my house!
- The tiger now hath seiz'd the gentle hind;
- Insulting tyranny begins to jet
- Upon the innocent and aweless throne.
- Welcome, destruction, blood, and massacre!
- I see, as in a map, the end of all.
- DUCHESS. Accursed and unquiet wrangling days,
- How many of you have mine eyes beheld!
- My husband lost his life to get the crown;
- And often up and down my sons were toss'd
- For me to joy and weep their gain and loss;
- And being seated, and domestic broils
- Clean over-blown, themselves the conquerors
- Make war upon themselves-brother to brother,
- Blood to blood, self against self. O, preposterous
- And frantic outrage, end thy damned spleen,
- Or let me die, to look on death no more!
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. Come, come, my boy; we will to
- sanctuary.
- Madam, farewell.
- DUCHESS. Stay, I will go with you.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. You have no cause.
- ARCHBISHOP. [To the QUEEN] My gracious lady, go.
- And thither bear your treasure and your goods.
- For my part, I'll resign unto your Grace
- The seal I keep; and so betide to me
- As well I tender you and all of yours!
- Go, I'll conduct you to the sanctuary. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT III. SCENE 1.
-
-London. A street
-
-The trumpets sound. Enter the PRINCE OF WALES, GLOUCESTER, BUCKINGHAM,
-CATESBY, CARDINAL BOURCHIER, and others
-
- BUCKINGHAM. Welcome, sweet Prince, to London, to your
- chamber.
- GLOUCESTER. Welcome, dear cousin, my thoughts' sovereign.
- The weary way hath made you melancholy.
- PRINCE. No, uncle; but our crosses on the way
- Have made it tedious, wearisome, and heavy.
- I want more uncles here to welcome me.
- GLOUCESTER. Sweet Prince, the untainted virtue of your
- years
- Hath not yet div'd into the world's deceit;
- Nor more can you distinguish of a man
- Than of his outward show; which, God He knows,
- Seldom or never jumpeth with the heart.
- Those uncles which you want were dangerous;
- Your Grace attended to their sug'red words
- But look'd not on the poison of their hearts.
- God keep you from them and from such false friends!
- PRINCE. God keep me from false friends! but they were
- none.
- GLOUCESTER. My lord, the Mayor of London comes to greet
- you.
-
- Enter the LORD MAYOR and his train
-
- MAYOR. God bless your Grace with health and happy days!
- PRINCE. I thank you, good my lord, and thank you all.
- I thought my mother and my brother York
- Would long ere this have met us on the way.
- Fie, what a slug is Hastings, that he comes not
- To tell us whether they will come or no!
-
- Enter LORD HASTINGS
-
- BUCKINGHAM. And, in good time, here comes the sweating
- Lord.
- PRINCE. Welcome, my lord. What, will our mother come?
- HASTINGS. On what occasion, God He knows, not I,
- The Queen your mother and your brother York
- Have taken sanctuary. The tender Prince
- Would fain have come with me to meet your Grace,
- But by his mother was perforce withheld.
- BUCKINGHAM. Fie, what an indirect and peevish course
- Is this of hers? Lord Cardinal, will your Grace
- Persuade the Queen to send the Duke of York
- Unto his princely brother presently?
- If she deny, Lord Hastings, go with him
- And from her jealous arms pluck him perforce.
- CARDINAL. My Lord of Buckingham, if my weak oratory
- Can from his mother win the Duke of York,
- Anon expect him here; but if she be obdurate
- To mild entreaties, God in heaven forbid
- We should infringe the holy privilege
- Of blessed sanctuary! Not for all this land
- Would I be guilty of so deep a sin.
- BUCKINGHAM. You are too senseless-obstinate, my lord,
- Too ceremonious and traditional.
- Weigh it but with the grossness of this age,
- You break not sanctuary in seizing him.
- The benefit thereof is always granted
- To those whose dealings have deserv'd the place
- And those who have the wit to claim the place.
- This Prince hath neither claim'd it nor deserv'd it,
- And therefore, in mine opinion, cannot have it.
- Then, taking him from thence that is not there,
- You break no privilege nor charter there.
- Oft have I heard of sanctuary men;
- But sanctuary children never till now.
- CARDINAL. My lord, you shall o'errule my mind for once.
- Come on, Lord Hastings, will you go with me?
- HASTINGS. I go, my lord.
- PRINCE. Good lords, make all the speedy haste you may.
- Exeunt CARDINAL and HASTINGS
- Say, uncle Gloucester, if our brother come,
- Where shall we sojourn till our coronation?
- GLOUCESTER. Where it seems best unto your royal self.
- If I may counsel you, some day or two
- Your Highness shall repose you at the Tower,
- Then where you please and shall be thought most fit
- For your best health and recreation.
- PRINCE. I do not like the Tower, of any place.
- Did Julius Caesar build that place, my lord?
- BUCKINGHAM. He did, my gracious lord, begin that place,
- Which, since, succeeding ages have re-edified.
- PRINCE. Is it upon record, or else reported
- Successively from age to age, he built it?
- BUCKINGHAM. Upon record, my gracious lord.
- PRINCE. But say, my lord, it were not regist'red,
- Methinks the truth should Eve from age to age,
- As 'twere retail'd to all posterity,
- Even to the general all-ending day.
- GLOUCESTER. [Aside] So wise so young, they say, do never
- live long.
- PRINCE. What say you, uncle?
- GLOUCESTER. I say, without characters, fame lives long.
- [Aside] Thus, like the formal vice, Iniquity,
- I moralize two meanings in one word.
- PRINCE. That Julius Caesar was a famous man;
- With what his valour did enrich his wit,
- His wit set down to make his valour live.
- Death makes no conquest of this conqueror;
- For now he lives in fame, though not in life.
- I'll tell you what, my cousin Buckingham-
- BUCKINGHAM. What, my gracious lord?
- PRINCE. An if I live until I be a man,
- I'll win our ancient right in France again,
- Or die a soldier as I liv'd a king.
- GLOUCESTER. [Aside] Short summers lightly have a forward
- spring.
-
- Enter HASTINGS, young YORK, and the CARDINAL
-
- BUCKINGHAM. Now, in good time, here comes the Duke of
- York.
- PRINCE. Richard of York, how fares our loving brother?
- YORK. Well, my dread lord; so must I can you now.
- PRINCE. Ay brother, to our grief, as it is yours.
- Too late he died that might have kept that title,
- Which by his death hath lost much majesty.
- GLOUCESTER. How fares our cousin, noble Lord of York?
- YORK. I thank you, gentle uncle. O, my lord,
- You said that idle weeds are fast in growth.
- The Prince my brother hath outgrown me far.
- GLOUCESTER. He hath, my lord.
- YORK. And therefore is he idle?
- GLOUCESTER. O, my fair cousin, I must not say so.
- YORK. Then he is more beholding to you than I.
- GLOUCESTER. He may command me as my sovereign;
- But you have power in me as in a kinsman.
- YORK. I pray you, uncle, give me this dagger.
- GLOUCESTER. My dagger, little cousin? With all my heart!
- PRINCE. A beggar, brother?
- YORK. Of my kind uncle, that I know will give,
- And being but a toy, which is no grief to give.
- GLOUCESTER. A greater gift than that I'll give my cousin.
- YORK. A greater gift! O, that's the sword to it!
- GLOUCESTER. Ay, gentle cousin, were it light enough.
- YORK. O, then, I see you will part but with light gifts:
- In weightier things you'll say a beggar nay.
- GLOUCESTER. It is too heavy for your Grace to wear.
- YORK. I weigh it lightly, were it heavier.
- GLOUCESTER. What, would you have my weapon, little
- Lord?
- YORK. I would, that I might thank you as you call me.
- GLOUCESTER. How?
- YORK. Little.
- PRINCE. My Lord of York will still be cross in talk.
- Uncle, your Grace knows how to bear with him.
- YORK. You mean, to bear me, not to bear with me.
- Uncle, my brother mocks both you and me;
- Because that I am little, like an ape,
- He thinks that you should bear me on your shoulders.
- BUCKINGHAM. With what a sharp-provided wit he reasons!
- To mitigate the scorn he gives his uncle
- He prettily and aptly taunts himself.
- So cunning and so young is wonderful.
- GLOUCESTER. My lord, will't please you pass along?
- Myself and my good cousin Buckingham
- Will to your mother, to entreat of her
- To meet you at the Tower and welcome you.
- YORK. What, will you go unto the Tower, my lord?
- PRINCE. My Lord Protector needs will have it so.
- YORK. I shall not sleep in quiet at the Tower.
- GLOUCESTER. Why, what should you fear?
- YORK. Marry, my uncle Clarence' angry ghost.
- My grandam told me he was murder'd there.
- PRINCE. I fear no uncles dead.
- GLOUCESTER. Nor none that live, I hope.
- PRINCE. An if they live, I hope I need not fear.
- But come, my lord; and with a heavy heart,
- Thinking on them, go I unto the Tower.
- A sennet.
- Exeunt all but GLOUCESTER, BUCKINGHAM, and CATESBY
- BUCKINGHAM. Think you, my lord, this little prating York
- Was not incensed by his subtle mother
- To taunt and scorn you thus opprobriously?
- GLOUCESTER. No doubt, no doubt. O, 'tis a perilous boy;
- Bold, quick, ingenious, forward, capable.
- He is all the mother's, from the top to toe.
- BUCKINGHAM. Well, let them rest. Come hither, Catesby.
- Thou art sworn as deeply to effect what we intend
- As closely to conceal what we impart.
- Thou know'st our reasons urg'd upon the way.
- What think'st thou? Is it not an easy matter
- To make William Lord Hastings of our mind,
- For the instalment of this noble Duke
- In the seat royal of this famous isle?
- CATESBY. He for his father's sake so loves the Prince
- That he will not be won to aught against him.
- BUCKINGHAM. What think'st thou then of Stanley? Will
- not he?
- CATESBY. He will do all in all as Hastings doth.
- BUCKINGHAM. Well then, no more but this: go, gentle
- Catesby,
- And, as it were far off, sound thou Lord Hastings
- How he doth stand affected to our purpose;
- And summon him to-morrow to the Tower,
- To sit about the coronation.
- If thou dost find him tractable to us,
- Encourage him, and tell him all our reasons;
- If he be leaden, icy, cold, unwilling,
- Be thou so too, and so break off the talk,
- And give us notice of his inclination;
- For we to-morrow hold divided councils,
- Wherein thyself shalt highly be employ'd.
- GLOUCESTER. Commend me to Lord William. Tell him,
- Catesby,
- His ancient knot of dangerous adversaries
- To-morrow are let blood at Pomfret Castle;
- And bid my lord, for joy of this good news,
- Give Mistress Shore one gentle kiss the more.
- BUCKINGHAM. Good Catesby, go effect this business soundly.
- CATESBY. My good lords both, with all the heed I can.
- GLOUCESTER. Shall we hear from you, Catesby, ere we sleep?
- CATESBY. You shall, my lord.
- GLOUCESTER. At Crosby House, there shall you find us both.
- Exit CATESBY
- BUCKINGHAM. Now, my lord, what shall we do if we
- perceive
- Lord Hastings will not yield to our complots?
- GLOUCESTER. Chop off his head-something we will
- determine.
- And, look when I am King, claim thou of me
- The earldom of Hereford and all the movables
- Whereof the King my brother was possess'd.
- BUCKINGHAM. I'll claim that promise at your Grace's hand.
- GLOUCESTER. And look to have it yielded with all kindness.
- Come, let us sup betimes, that afterwards
- We may digest our complots in some form. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 2.
-
-Before LORD HASTING'S house
-
-Enter a MESSENGER to the door of HASTINGS
-
- MESSENGER. My lord, my lord! [Knocking]
- HASTINGS. [Within] Who knocks?
- MESSENGER. One from the Lord Stanley.
- HASTINGS. [Within] What is't o'clock?
- MESSENGER. Upon the stroke of four.
-
- Enter LORD HASTINGS
-
- HASTINGS. Cannot my Lord Stanley sleep these tedious
- nights?
- MESSENGER. So it appears by that I have to say.
- First, he commends him to your noble self.
- HASTINGS. What then?
- MESSENGER. Then certifies your lordship that this night
- He dreamt the boar had razed off his helm.
- Besides, he says there are two councils kept,
- And that may be determin'd at the one
- Which may make you and him to rue at th' other.
- Therefore he sends to know your lordship's pleasure-
- If you will presently take horse with him
- And with all speed post with him toward the north
- To shun the danger that his soul divines.
- HASTINGS. Go, fellow, go, return unto thy lord;
- Bid him not fear the separated council:
- His honour and myself are at the one,
- And at the other is my good friend Catesby;
- Where nothing can proceed that toucheth us
- Whereof I shall not have intelligence.
- Tell him his fears are shallow, without instance;
- And for his dreams, I wonder he's so simple
- To trust the mock'ry of unquiet slumbers.
- To fly the boar before the boar pursues
- Were to incense the boar to follow us
- And make pursuit where he did mean no chase.
- Go, bid thy master rise and come to me;
- And we will both together to the Tower,
- Where, he shall see, the boar will use us kindly.
- MESSENGER. I'll go, my lord, and tell him what you say.
- Exit
-
- Enter CATESBY
-
- CATESBY. Many good morrows to my noble lord!
- HASTINGS. Good morrow, Catesby; you are early stirring.
- What news, what news, in this our tott'ring state?
- CATESBY. It is a reeling world indeed, my lord;
- And I believe will never stand upright
- Till Richard wear the garland of the realm.
- HASTINGS. How, wear the garland! Dost thou mean the
- crown?
- CATESBY. Ay, my good lord.
- HASTINGS. I'll have this crown of mine cut from my
- shoulders
- Before I'll see the crown so foul misplac'd.
- But canst thou guess that he doth aim at it?
- CATESBY. Ay, on my life; and hopes to find you forward
- Upon his party for the gain thereof;
- And thereupon he sends you this good news,
- That this same very day your enemies,
- The kindred of the Queen, must die at Pomfret.
- HASTINGS. Indeed, I am no mourner for that news,
- Because they have been still my adversaries;
- But that I'll give my voice on Richard's side
- To bar my master's heirs in true descent,
- God knows I will not do it to the death.
- CATESBY. God keep your lordship in that gracious mind!
- HASTINGS. But I shall laugh at this a twelve month hence,
- That they which brought me in my master's hate,
- I live to look upon their tragedy.
- Well, Catesby, ere a fortnight make me older,
- I'll send some packing that yet think not on't.
- CATESBY. 'Tis a vile thing to die, my gracious lord,
- When men are unprepar'd and look not for it.
- HASTINGS. O monstrous, monstrous! And so falls it out
- With Rivers, Vaughan, Grey; and so 'twill do
- With some men else that think themselves as safe
- As thou and I, who, as thou knowest, are dear
- To princely Richard and to Buckingham.
- CATESBY. The Princes both make high account of you-
- [Aside] For they account his head upon the bridge.
- HASTINGS. I know they do, and I have well deserv'd it.
-
- Enter LORD STANLEY
-
- Come on, come on; where is your boar-spear, man?
- Fear you the boar, and go so unprovided?
- STANLEY. My lord, good morrow; good morrow, Catesby.
- You may jest on, but, by the holy rood,
- I do not like these several councils, I.
- HASTINGS. My lord, I hold my life as dear as yours,
- And never in my days, I do protest,
- Was it so precious to me as 'tis now.
- Think you, but that I know our state secure,
- I would be so triumphant as I am?
- STANLEY. The lords at Pomfret, when they rode from
- London,
- Were jocund and suppos'd their states were sure,
- And they indeed had no cause to mistrust;
- But yet you see how soon the day o'ercast.
- This sudden stab of rancour I misdoubt;
- Pray God, I say, I prove a needless coward.
- What, shall we toward the Tower? The day is spent.
- HASTINGS. Come, come, have with you. Wot you what, my
- Lord?
- To-day the lords you talk'd of are beheaded.
- STANLEY. They, for their truth, might better wear their
- heads
- Than some that have accus'd them wear their hats.
- But come, my lord, let's away.
-
- Enter HASTINGS, a pursuivant
-
- HASTINGS. Go on before; I'll talk with this good fellow.
- Exeunt STANLEY and CATESBY
- How now, Hastings! How goes the world with thee?
- PURSUIVANT. The better that your lordship please to ask.
- HASTINGS. I tell thee, man, 'tis better with me now
- Than when thou met'st me last where now we meet:
- Then was I going prisoner to the Tower
- By the suggestion of the Queen's allies;
- But now, I tell thee-keep it to thyself-
- This day those enernies are put to death,
- And I in better state than e'er I was.
- PURSUIVANT. God hold it, to your honour's good content!
- HASTINGS. Gramercy, Hastings; there, drink that for me.
- [Throws him his purse]
- PURSUIVANT. I thank your honour. Exit
-
- Enter a PRIEST
-
- PRIEST. Well met, my lord; I am glad to see your honour.
- HASTINGS. I thank thee, good Sir John, with all my heart.
- I am in your debt for your last exercise;
- Come the next Sabbath, and I will content you.
- [He whispers in his ear]
- PRIEST. I'll wait upon your lordship.
-
- Enter BUCKINGHAM
-
- BUCKINGHAM. What, talking with a priest, Lord
- Chamberlain!
- Your friends at Pomfret, they do need the priest:
- Your honour hath no shriving work in hand.
- HASTINGS. Good faith, and when I met this holy man,
- The men you talk of came into my mind.
- What, go you toward the Tower?
- BUCKINGHAM. I do, my lord, but long I cannot stay there;
- I shall return before your lordship thence.
- HASTINGS. Nay, like enough, for I stay dinner there.
- BUCKINGHAM. [Aside] And supper too, although thou
- knowest it not.-
- Come, will you go?
- HASTINGS. I'll wait upon your lordship. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 3.
-
-Pomfret Castle
-
-Enter SIR RICHARD RATCLIFF, with halberds, carrying the Nobles,
-RIVERS, GREY, and VAUGHAN, to death
-
- RIVERS. Sir Richard Ratcliff, let me tell thee this:
- To-day shalt thou behold a subject die
- For truth, for duty, and for loyalty.
- GREY. God bless the Prince from all the pack of you!
- A knot you are of damned blood-suckers.
- VAUGHAN. You live that shall cry woe for this hereafter.
- RATCLIFF. Dispatch; the limit of your lives is out.
- RIVERS. O Pomfret, Pomfret! O thou bloody prison,
- Fatal and ominous to noble peers!
- Within the guilty closure of thy walls
- RICHARD the Second here was hack'd to death;
- And for more slander to thy dismal seat,
- We give to thee our guiltless blood to drink.
- GREY. Now Margaret's curse is fall'n upon our heads,
- When she exclaim'd on Hastings, you, and I,
- For standing by when Richard stabb'd her son.
- RIVERS. Then curs'd she Richard, then curs'd she
- Buckingham,
- Then curs'd she Hastings. O, remember, God,
- To hear her prayer for them, as now for us!
- And for my sister, and her princely sons,
- Be satisfied, dear God, with our true blood,
- Which, as thou know'st, unjustly must be spilt.
- RATCLIFF. Make haste; the hour of death is expiate.
- RIVERS. Come, Grey; come, Vaughan; let us here embrace.
- Farewell, until we meet again in heaven. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 4
-
-London. The Tower
-
-Enter BUCKINGHAM, DERBY, HASTINGS, the BISHOP of ELY, RATCLIFF, LOVEL,
-with others and seat themselves at a table
-
- HASTINGS. Now, noble peers, the cause why we are met
- Is to determine of the coronation.
- In God's name speak-when is the royal day?
- BUCKINGHAM. Is all things ready for the royal time?
- DERBY. It is, and wants but nomination.
- BISHOP OF ELY. To-morrow then I judge a happy day.
- BUCKINGHAM. Who knows the Lord Protector's mind
- herein?
- Who is most inward with the noble Duke?
- BISHOP OF ELY. Your Grace, we think, should soonest know
- his mind.
- BUCKINGHAM. We know each other's faces; for our hearts,
- He knows no more of mine than I of yours;
- Or I of his, my lord, than you of mine.
- Lord Hastings, you and he are near in love.
- HASTINGS. I thank his Grace, I know he loves me well;
- But for his purpose in the coronation
- I have not sounded him, nor he deliver'd
- His gracious pleasure any way therein.
- But you, my honourable lords, may name the time;
- And in the Duke's behalf I'll give my voice,
- Which, I presume, he'll take in gentle part.
-
- Enter GLOUCESTER
-
- BISHOP OF ELY. In happy time, here comes the Duke himself.
- GLOUCESTER. My noble lords and cousins an, good morrow.
- I have been long a sleeper, but I trust
- My absence doth neglect no great design
- Which by my presence might have been concluded.
- BUCKINGHAM. Had you not come upon your cue, my lord,
- WILLIAM Lord Hastings had pronounc'd your part-
- I mean, your voice for crowning of the King.
- GLOUCESTER. Than my Lord Hastings no man might be
- bolder;
- His lordship knows me well and loves me well.
- My lord of Ely, when I was last in Holborn
- I saw good strawberries in your garden there.
- I do beseech you send for some of them.
- BISHOP of ELY. Marry and will, my lord, with all my heart.
- Exit
- GLOUCESTER. Cousin of Buckingham, a word with you.
- [Takes him aside]
- Catesby hath sounded Hastings in our business,
- And finds the testy gentleman so hot
- That he will lose his head ere give consent
- His master's child, as worshipfully he terms it,
- Shall lose the royalty of England's throne.
- BUCKINGHAM. Withdraw yourself awhile; I'll go with you.
- Exeunt GLOUCESTER and BUCKINGHAM
- DERBY. We have not yet set down this day of triumph.
- To-morrow, in my judgment, is too sudden;
- For I myself am not so well provided
- As else I would be, were the day prolong'd.
-
- Re-enter the BISHOP OF ELY
-
- BISHOP OF ELY. Where is my lord the Duke of Gloucester?
- I have sent for these strawberries.
- HASTINGS. His Grace looks cheerfully and smooth this
- morning;
- There's some conceit or other likes him well
- When that he bids good morrow with such spirit.
- I think there's never a man in Christendom
- Can lesser hide his love or hate than he;
- For by his face straight shall you know his heart.
- DERBY. What of his heart perceive you in his face
- By any livelihood he show'd to-day?
- HASTINGS. Marry, that with no man here he is offended;
- For, were he, he had shown it in his looks.
-
- Re-enter GLOUCESTER and BUCKINGHAM
-
- GLOUCESTER. I pray you all, tell me what they deserve
- That do conspire my death with devilish plots
- Of damned witchcraft, and that have prevail'd
- Upon my body with their hellish charms?
- HASTINGS. The tender love I bear your Grace, my lord,
- Makes me most forward in this princely presence
- To doom th' offenders, whosoe'er they be.
- I say, my lord, they have deserved death.
- GLOUCESTER. Then be your eyes the witness of their evil.
- Look how I am bewitch'd; behold, mine arm
- Is like a blasted sapling wither'd up.
- And this is Edward's wife, that monstrous witch,
- Consorted with that harlot strumpet Shore,
- That by their witchcraft thus have marked me.
- HASTINGS. If they have done this deed, my noble lord-
- GLOUCESTER. If?-thou protector of this damned strumpet,
- Talk'st thou to me of ifs? Thou art a traitor.
- Off with his head! Now by Saint Paul I swear
- I will not dine until I see the same.
- Lovel and Ratcliff, look that it be done.
- The rest that love me, rise and follow me.
- Exeunt all but HASTINGS, LOVEL, and RATCLIFF
- HASTINGS. Woe, woe, for England! not a whit for me;
- For I, too fond, might have prevented this.
- STANLEY did dream the boar did raze our helms,
- And I did scorn it and disdain to fly.
- Three times to-day my foot-cloth horse did stumble,
- And started when he look'd upon the Tower,
- As loath to bear me to the slaughter-house.
- O, now I need the priest that spake to me!
- I now repent I told the pursuivant,
- As too triumphing, how mine enemies
- To-day at Pomfret bloodily were butcher'd,
- And I myself secure in grace and favour.
- O Margaret, Margaret, now thy heavy curse
- Is lighted on poor Hastings' wretched head!
- RATCLIFF. Come, come, dispatch; the Duke would be at
- dinner.
- Make a short shrift; he longs to see your head.
- HASTINGS. O momentary grace of mortal men,
- Which we more hunt for than the grace of God!
- Who builds his hope in air of your good looks
- Lives like a drunken sailor on a mast,
- Ready with every nod to tumble down
- Into the fatal bowels of the deep.
- LOVEL. Come, come, dispatch; 'tis bootless to exclaim.
- HASTINGS. O bloody Richard! Miserable England!
- I prophesy the fearfull'st time to thee
- That ever wretched age hath look'd upon.
- Come, lead me to the block; bear him my head.
- They smile at me who shortly shall be dead. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 5.
-
-London. The Tower-walls
-
-Enter GLOUCESTER and BUCKINGHAM in rotten armour, marvellous ill-favoured
-
- GLOUCESTER. Come, cousin, canst thou quake and change
- thy colour,
- Murder thy breath in middle of a word,
- And then again begin, and stop again,
- As if thou were distraught and mad with terror?
- BUCKINGHAM. Tut, I can counterfeit the deep tragedian;
- Speak and look back, and pry on every side,
- Tremble and start at wagging of a straw,
- Intending deep suspicion. Ghastly looks
- Are at my service, like enforced smiles;
- And both are ready in their offices
- At any time to grace my stratagems.
- But what, is Catesby gone?
- GLOUCESTER. He is; and, see, he brings the mayor along.
-
- Enter the LORD MAYOR and CATESBY
-
- BUCKINGHAM. Lord Mayor-
- GLOUCESTER. Look to the drawbridge there!
- BUCKINGHAM. Hark! a drum.
- GLOUCESTER. Catesby, o'erlook the walls.
- BUCKINGHAM. Lord Mayor, the reason we have sent-
- GLOUCESTER. Look back, defend thee; here are enemies.
- BUCKINGHAM. God and our innocence defend and guard us!
-
- Enter LOVEL and RATCLIFF, with HASTINGS' head
-
- GLOUCESTER. Be patient; they are friends-Ratcliff and Lovel.
- LOVEL. Here is the head of that ignoble traitor,
- The dangerous and unsuspected Hastings.
- GLOUCESTER. So dear I lov'd the man that I must weep.
- I took him for the plainest harmless creature
- That breath'd upon the earth a Christian;
- Made him my book, wherein my soul recorded
- The history of all her secret thoughts.
- So smooth he daub'd his vice with show of virtue
- That, his apparent open guilt omitted,
- I mean his conversation with Shore's wife-
- He liv'd from all attainder of suspects.
- BUCKINGHAM. Well, well, he was the covert'st shelt'red
- traitor
- That ever liv'd.
- Would you imagine, or almost believe-
- Were't not that by great preservation
- We live to tell it-that the subtle traitor
- This day had plotted, in the council-house,
- To murder me and my good Lord of Gloucester.
- MAYOR. Had he done so?
- GLOUCESTER. What! think you we are Turks or Infidels?
- Or that we would, against the form of law,
- Proceed thus rashly in the villain's death
- But that the extreme peril of the case,
- The peace of England and our persons' safety,
- Enforc'd us to this execution?
- MAYOR. Now, fair befall you! He deserv'd his death;
- And your good Graces both have well proceeded
- To warn false traitors from the like attempts.
- I never look'd for better at his hands
- After he once fell in with Mistress Shore.
- BUCKINGHAM. Yet had we not determin'd he should die
- Until your lordship came to see his end-
- Which now the loving haste of these our friends,
- Something against our meanings, have prevented-
- Because, my lord, I would have had you heard
- The traitor speak, and timorously confess
- The manner and the purpose of his treasons:
- That you might well have signified the same
- Unto the citizens, who haply may
- Misconster us in him and wail his death.
- MAYOR. But, my good lord, your Grace's words shall serve
- As well as I had seen and heard him speak;
- And do not doubt, right noble Princes both,
- But I'll acquaint our duteous citizens
- With all your just proceedings in this cause.
- GLOUCESTER. And to that end we wish'd your lordship here,
- T' avoid the the the censures of the carping world.
- BUCKINGHAM. Which since you come too late of our intent,
- Yet witness what you hear we did intend.
- And so, my good Lord Mayor, we bid farewell.
- Exit LORD MAYOR
- GLOUCESTER. Go, after, after, cousin Buckingham.
- The Mayor towards Guildhall hies him in an post.
- There, at your meet'st advantage of the time,
- Infer the bastardy of Edward's children.
- Tell them how Edward put to death a citizen
- Only for saying he would make his son
- Heir to the crown-meaning indeed his house,
- Which by the sign thereof was termed so.
- Moreover, urge his hateful luxury
- And bestial appetite in change of lust,
- Which stretch'd unto their servants, daughters, wives,
- Even where his raging eye or savage heart
- Without control lusted to make a prey.
- Nay, for a need, thus far come near my person:
- Tell them, when that my mother went with child
- Of that insatiate Edward, noble York
- My princely father then had wars in France
- And, by true computation of the time,
- Found that the issue was not his begot;
- Which well appeared in his lineaments,
- Being nothing like the noble Duke my father.
- Yet touch this sparingly, as 'twere far off;
- Because, my lord, you know my mother lives.
- BUCKINGHAM. Doubt not, my lord, I'll play the orator
- As if the golden fee for which I plead
- Were for myself; and so, my lord, adieu.
- GLOUCESTER. If you thrive well, bring them to Baynard's
- Castle;
- Where you shall find me well accompanied
- With reverend fathers and well learned bishops.
- BUCKINGHAM. I go; and towards three or four o'clock
- Look for the news that the Guildhall affords. Exit
- GLOUCESTER. Go, Lovel, with all speed to Doctor Shaw.
- [To CATESBY] Go thou to Friar Penker. Bid them both
- Meet me within this hour at Baynard's Castle.
- Exeunt all but GLOUCESTER
- Now will I go to take some privy order
- To draw the brats of Clarence out of sight,
- And to give order that no manner person
- Have any time recourse unto the Princes. Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 6.
-
-London. A street
-
-Enter a SCRIVENER
-
- SCRIVENER. Here is the indictment of the good Lord Hastings;
- Which in a set hand fairly is engross'd
- That it may be to-day read o'er in Paul's.
- And mark how well the sequel hangs together:
- Eleven hours I have spent to write it over,
- For yesternight by Catesby was it sent me;
- The precedent was full as long a-doing;
- And yet within these five hours Hastings liv'd,
- Untainted, unexamin'd, free, at liberty.
- Here's a good world the while! Who is so gros
- That cannot see this palpable device?
- Yet who's so bold but says he sees it not?
- Bad is the world; and all will come to nought,
- When such ill dealing must be seen in thought. Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 7.
-
-London. Baynard's Castle
-
-Enter GLOUCESTER and BUCKINGHAM, at several doors
-
- GLOUCESTER. How now, how now! What say the citizens?
- BUCKINGHAM. Now, by the holy Mother of our Lord,
- The citizens are mum, say not a word.
- GLOUCESTER. Touch'd you the bastardy of Edward's
- children?
- BUCKINGHAM. I did; with his contract with Lady Lucy,
- And his contract by deputy in France;
- Th' insatiate greediness of his desire,
- And his enforcement of the city wives;
- His tyranny for trifles; his own bastardy,
- As being got, your father then in France,
- And his resemblance, being not like the Duke.
- Withal I did infer your lineaments,
- Being the right idea of your father,
- Both in your form and nobleness of mind;
- Laid open all your victories in Scotland,
- Your discipline in war, wisdom in peace,
- Your bounty, virtue, fair humility;
- Indeed, left nothing fitting for your purpose
- Untouch'd or slightly handled in discourse.
- And when mine oratory drew toward end
- I bid them that did love their country's good
- Cry 'God save Richard, England's royal King!'
- GLOUCESTER. And did they so?
- BUCKINGHAM. No, so God help me, they spake not a word;
- But, like dumb statues or breathing stones,
- Star'd each on other, and look'd deadly pale.
- Which when I saw, I reprehended them,
- And ask'd the Mayor what meant this wilfull silence.
- His answer was, the people were not used
- To be spoke to but by the Recorder.
- Then he was urg'd to tell my tale again.
- 'Thus saith the Duke, thus hath the Duke inferr'd'-
- But nothing spoke in warrant from himself.
- When he had done, some followers of mine own
- At lower end of the hall hurl'd up their caps,
- And some ten voices cried 'God save King Richard!'
- And thus I took the vantage of those few-
- 'Thanks, gentle citizens and friends,' quoth I
- 'This general applause and cheerful shout
- Argues your wisdoms and your love to Richard.'
- And even here brake off and came away.
- GLOUCESTER. What, tongueless blocks were they? Would
- they not speak?
- Will not the Mayor then and his brethren come?
- BUCKINGHAM. The Mayor is here at hand. Intend some fear;
- Be not you spoke with but by mighty suit;
- And look you get a prayer-book in your hand,
- And stand between two churchmen, good my lord;
- For on that ground I'll make a holy descant;
- And be not easily won to our requests.
- Play the maid's part: still answer nay, and take it.
- GLOUCESTER. I go; and if you plead as well for them
- As I can say nay to thee for myself,
- No doubt we bring it to a happy issue.
- BUCKINGHAM. Go, go, up to the leads; the Lord Mayor
- knocks. Exit GLOUCESTER
-
- Enter the LORD MAYOR, ALDERMEN, and citizens
-
- Welcome, my lord. I dance attendance here;
- I think the Duke will not be spoke withal.
-
- Enter CATESBY
-
- Now, Catesby, what says your lord to my request?
- CATESBY. He doth entreat your Grace, my noble lord,
- To visit him to-morrow or next day.
- He is within, with two right reverend fathers,
- Divinely bent to meditation;
- And in no worldly suits would he be mov'd,
- To draw him from his holy exercise.
- BUCKINGHAM. Return, good Catesby, to the gracious Duke;
- Tell him, myself, the Mayor and Aldermen,
- In deep designs, in matter of great moment,
- No less importing than our general good,
- Are come to have some conference with his Grace.
- CATESBY. I'll signify so much unto him straight. Exit
- BUCKINGHAM. Ah ha, my lord, this prince is not an Edward!
- He is not lolling on a lewd love-bed,
- But on his knees at meditation;
- Not dallying with a brace of courtezans,
- But meditating with two deep divines;
- Not sleeping, to engross his idle body,
- But praying, to enrich his watchful soul.
- Happy were England would this virtuous prince
- Take on his Grace the sovereignty thereof;
- But, sure, I fear we shall not win him to it.
- MAYOR. Marry, God defend his Grace should say us nay!
- BUCKINGHAM. I fear he will. Here Catesby comes again.
-
- Re-enter CATESBY
-
- Now, Catesby, what says his Grace?
- CATESBY. My lord,
- He wonders to what end you have assembled
- Such troops of citizens to come to him.
- His Grace not being warn'd thereof before,
- He fears, my lord, you mean no good to him.
- BUCKINGHAM. Sorry I am my noble cousin should
- Suspect me that I mean no good to him.
- By heaven, we come to him in perfect love;
- And so once more return and tell his Grace.
- Exit CATESBY
- When holy and devout religious men
- Are at their beads, 'tis much to draw them thence,
- So sweet is zealous contemplation.
-
- Enter GLOUCESTER aloft, between two BISHOPS.
- CATESBY returns
-
- MAYOR. See where his Grace stands 'tween two clergymen!
- BUCKINGHAM. Two props of virtue for a Christian prince,
- To stay him from the fall of vanity;
- And, see, a book of prayer in his hand,
- True ornaments to know a holy man.
- Famous Plantagenet, most gracious Prince,
- Lend favourable ear to our requests,
- And pardon us the interruption
- Of thy devotion and right Christian zeal.
- GLOUCESTER. My lord, there needs no such apology:
- I do beseech your Grace to pardon me,
- Who, earnest in the service of my God,
- Deferr'd the visitation of my friends.
- But, leaving this, what is your Grace's pleasure?
- BUCKINGHAM. Even that, I hope, which pleaseth God above,
- And all good men of this ungovern'd isle.
- GLOUCESTER. I do suspect I have done some offence
- That seems disgracious in the city's eye,
- And that you come to reprehend my ignorance.
- BUCKINGHAM. You have, my lord. Would it might please
- your Grace,
- On our entreaties, to amend your fault!
- GLOUCESTER. Else wherefore breathe I in a Christian land?
- BUCKINGHAM. Know then, it is your fault that you resign
- The supreme seat, the throne majestical,
- The scept'red office of your ancestors,
- Your state of fortune and your due of birth,
- The lineal glory of your royal house,
- To the corruption of a blemish'd stock;
- Whiles in the mildness of your sleepy thoughts,
- Which here we waken to our country's good,
- The noble isle doth want her proper limbs;
- Her face defac'd with scars of infamy,
- Her royal stock graft with ignoble plants,
- And almost should'red in the swallowing gulf
- Of dark forgetfulness and deep oblivion.
- Which to recure, we heartily solicit
- Your gracious self to take on you the charge
- And kingly government of this your land-
- Not as protector, steward, substitute,
- Or lowly factor for another's gain;
- But as successively, from blood to blood,
- Your right of birth, your empery, your own.
- For this, consorted with the citizens,
- Your very worshipful and loving friends,
- And by their vehement instigation,
- In this just cause come I to move your Grace.
- GLOUCESTER. I cannot tell if to depart in silence
- Or bitterly to speak in your reproof
- Best fitteth my degree or your condition.
- If not to answer, you might haply think
- Tongue-tied ambition, not replying, yielded
- To bear the golden yoke of sovereignty,
- Which fondly you would here impose on me;
- If to reprove you for this suit of yours,
- So season'd with your faithful love to me,
- Then, on the other side, I check'd my friends.
- Therefore-to speak, and to avoid the first,
- And then, in speaking, not to incur the last-
- Definitively thus I answer you:
- Your love deserves my thanks, but my desert
- Unmeritable shuns your high request.
- First, if all obstacles were cut away,
- And that my path were even to the crown,
- As the ripe revenue and due of birth,
- Yet so much is my poverty of spirit,
- So mighty and so many my defects,
- That I would rather hide me from my greatness-
- Being a bark to brook no mighty sea-
- Than in my greatness covet to be hid,
- And in the vapour of my glory smother'd.
- But, God be thank'd, there is no need of me-
- And much I need to help you, were there need.
- The royal tree hath left us royal fruit
- Which, mellow'd by the stealing hours of time,
- Will well become the seat of majesty
- And make, no doubt, us happy by his reign.
- On him I lay that you would lay on me-
- The right and fortune of his happy stars,
- Which God defend that I should wring from him.
- BUCKINGHAM. My lord, this argues conscience in your
- Grace;
- But the respects thereof are nice and trivial,
- All circumstances well considered.
- You say that Edward is your brother's son.
- So say we too, but not by Edward's wife;
- For first was he contract to Lady Lucy-
- Your mother lives a witness to his vow-
- And afterward by substitute betroth'd
- To Bona, sister to the King of France.
- These both put off, a poor petitioner,
- A care-craz'd mother to a many sons,
- A beauty-waning and distressed widow,
- Even in the afternoon of her best days,
- Made prize and purchase of his wanton eye,
- Seduc'd the pitch and height of his degree
- To base declension and loath'd bigamy.
- By her, in his unlawful bed, he got
- This Edward, whom our manners call the Prince.
- More bitterly could I expostulate,
- Save that, for reverence to some alive,
- I give a sparing limit to my tongue.
- Then, good my lord, take to your royal self
- This proffer'd benefit of dignity;
- If not to bless us and the land withal,
- Yet to draw forth your noble ancestry
- From the corruption of abusing times
- Unto a lineal true-derived course.
- MAYOR. Do, good my lord; your citizens entreat you.
- BUCKINGHAM. Refuse not, mighty lord, this proffer'd love.
- CATESBY. O, make them joyful, grant their lawful suit!
- GLOUCESTER. Alas, why would you heap this care on me?
- I am unfit for state and majesty.
- I do beseech you, take it not amiss:
- I cannot nor I will not yield to you.
- BUCKINGHAM. If you refuse it-as, in love and zeal,
- Loath to depose the child, your brother's son;
- As well we know your tenderness of heart
- And gentle, kind, effeminate remorse,
- Which we have noted in you to your kindred
- And egally indeed to all estates-
- Yet know, whe'er you accept our suit or no,
- Your brother's son shall never reign our king;
- But we will plant some other in the throne
- To the disgrace and downfall of your house;
- And in this resolution here we leave you.
- Come, citizens. Zounds, I'll entreat no more.
- GLOUCESTER. O, do not swear, my lord of Buckingham.
- Exeunt BUCKINGHAM, MAYOR, and citizens
- CATESBY. Call him again, sweet Prince, accept their suit.
- If you deny them, all the land will rue it.
- GLOUCESTER. Will you enforce me to a world of cares?
- Call them again. I am not made of stones,
- But penetrable to your kind entreaties,
- Albeit against my conscience and my soul.
-
- Re-enter BUCKINGHAM and the rest
-
- Cousin of Buckingham, and sage grave men,
- Since you will buckle fortune on my back,
- To bear her burden, whe'er I will or no,
- I must have patience to endure the load;
- But if black scandal or foul-fac'd reproach
- Attend the sequel of your imposition,
- Your mere enforcement shall acquittance me
- From all the impure blots and stains thereof;
- For God doth know, and you may partly see,
- How far I am from the desire of this.
- MAYOR. God bless your Grace! We see it, and will say it.
- GLOUCESTER. In saying so, you shall but say the truth.
- BUCKINGHAM. Then I salute you with this royal title-
- Long live King Richard, England's worthy King!
- ALL. Amen.
- BUCKINGHAM. To-morrow may it please you to be crown'd?
- GLOUCESTER. Even when you please, for you will have it so.
- BUCKINGHAM. To-morrow, then, we will attend your Grace;
- And so, most joyfully, we take our leave.
- GLOUCESTER. [To the BISHOPS] Come, let us to our holy
- work again.
- Farewell, my cousin; farewell, gentle friends. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT IV. SCENE 1.
-
-London. Before the Tower
-
-Enter QUEEN ELIZABETH, DUCHESS of YORK, and MARQUIS of DORSET, at one door;
-ANNE, DUCHESS of GLOUCESTER, leading LADY MARGARET PLANTAGENET,
-CLARENCE's young daughter, at another door
-
- DUCHESS. Who meets us here? My niece Plantagenet,
- Led in the hand of her kind aunt of Gloucester?
- Now, for my life, she's wand'ring to the Tower,
- On pure heart's love, to greet the tender Princes.
- Daughter, well met.
- ANNE. God give your Graces both
- A happy and a joyful time of day!
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. As much to you, good sister! Whither
- away?
- ANNE. No farther than the Tower; and, as I guess,
- Upon the like devotion as yourselves,
- To gratulate the gentle Princes there.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. Kind sister, thanks; we'll enter
- all together.
-
- Enter BRAKENBURY
-
- And in good time, here the lieutenant comes.
- Master Lieutenant, pray you, by your leave,
- How doth the Prince, and my young son of York?
- BRAKENBURY. Right well, dear madam. By your patience,
- I may not suffer you to visit them.
- The King hath strictly charg'd the contrary.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. The King! Who's that?
- BRAKENBURY. I mean the Lord Protector.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. The Lord protect him from that kingly
- title!
- Hath he set bounds between their love and me?
- I am their mother; who shall bar me from them?
- DUCHESS. I am their father's mother; I will see them.
- ANNE. Their aunt I am in law, in love their mother.
- Then bring me to their sights; I'll bear thy blame,
- And take thy office from thee on my peril.
- BRAKENBURY. No, madam, no. I may not leave it so;
- I am bound by oath, and therefore pardon me. Exit
-
- Enter STANLEY
-
- STANLEY. Let me but meet you, ladies, one hour hence,
- And I'll salute your Grace of York as mother
- And reverend looker-on of two fair queens.
- [To ANNE] Come, madam, you must straight to
- Westminster,
- There to be crowned Richard's royal queen.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. Ah, cut my lace asunder
- That my pent heart may have some scope to beat,
- Or else I swoon with this dead-killing news!
- ANNE. Despiteful tidings! O unpleasing news!
- DORSET. Be of good cheer; mother, how fares your Grace?
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. O Dorset, speak not to me, get thee
- gone!
- Death and destruction dogs thee at thy heels;
- Thy mother's name is ominous to children.
- If thou wilt outstrip death, go cross the seas,
- And live with Richmond, from the reach of hell.
- Go, hie thee, hie thee from this slaughter-house,
- Lest thou increase the number of the dead,
- And make me die the thrall of Margaret's curse,
- Nor mother, wife, nor England's counted queen.
- STANLEY. Full of wise care is this your counsel, madam.
- Take all the swift advantage of the hours;
- You shall have letters from me to my son
- In your behalf, to meet you on the way.
- Be not ta'en tardy by unwise delay.
- DUCHESS. O ill-dispersing wind of misery!
- O my accursed womb, the bed of death!
- A cockatrice hast thou hatch'd to the world,
- Whose unavoided eye is murderous.
- STANLEY. Come, madam, come; I in all haste was sent.
- ANNE. And I with all unwillingness will go.
- O, would to God that the inclusive verge
- Of golden metal that must round my brow
- Were red-hot steel, to sear me to the brains!
- Anointed let me be with deadly venom,
- And die ere men can say 'God save the Queen!'
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. Go, go, poor soul; I envy not thy glory.
- To feed my humour, wish thyself no harm.
- ANNE. No, why? When he that is my husband now
- Came to me, as I follow'd Henry's corse;
- When scarce the blood was well wash'd from his hands
- Which issued from my other angel husband,
- And that dear saint which then I weeping follow'd-
- O, when, I say, I look'd on Richard's face,
- This was my wish: 'Be thou' quoth I 'accurs'd
- For making me, so young, so old a widow;
- And when thou wed'st, let sorrow haunt thy bed;
- And be thy wife, if any be so mad,
- More miserable by the life of thee
- Than thou hast made me by my dear lord's death.'
- Lo, ere I can repeat this curse again,
- Within so small a time, my woman's heart
- Grossly grew captive to his honey words
- And prov'd the subject of mine own soul's curse,
- Which hitherto hath held my eyes from rest;
- For never yet one hour in his bed
- Did I enjoy the golden dew of sleep,
- But with his timorous dreams was still awak'd.
- Besides, he hates me for my father Warwick;
- And will, no doubt, shortly be rid of me.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. Poor heart, adieu! I pity thy complaining.
- ANNE. No more than with my soul I mourn for yours.
- DORSET. Farewell, thou woeful welcomer of glory!
- ANNE. Adieu, poor soul, that tak'st thy leave of it!
- DUCHESS. [To DORSET] Go thou to Richmond, and good
- fortune guide thee!
- [To ANNE] Go thou to Richard, and good angels tend
- thee! [To QUEEN ELIZABETH] Go thou to sanctuary, and good
- thoughts possess thee!
- I to my grave, where peace and rest lie with me!
- Eighty odd years of sorrow have I seen,
- And each hour's joy wreck'd with a week of teen.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. Stay, yet look back with me unto the
- Tower.
- Pity, you ancient stones, those tender babes
- Whom envy hath immur'd within your walls,
- Rough cradle for such little pretty ones.
- Rude ragged nurse, old sullen playfellow
- For tender princes, use my babies well.
- So foolish sorrows bids your stones farewell. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 2.
-
-London. The palace
-
-Sound a sennet. Enter RICHARD, in pomp, as KING; BUCKINGHAM, CATESBY,
-RATCLIFF, LOVEL, a PAGE, and others
-
- KING RICHARD. Stand all apart. Cousin of Buckingham!
- BUCKINGHAM. My gracious sovereign?
- KING RICHARD. Give me thy hand.
- [Here he ascendeth the throne. Sound]
- Thus high, by thy advice
- And thy assistance, is King Richard seated.
- But shall we wear these glories for a day;
- Or shall they last, and we rejoice in them?
- BUCKINGHAM. Still live they, and for ever let them last!
- KING RICHARD. Ah, Buckingham, now do I play the touch,
- To try if thou be current gold indeed.
- Young Edward lives-think now what I would speak.
- BUCKINGHAM. Say on, my loving lord.
- KING RICHARD. Why, Buckingham, I say I would be King.
- BUCKINGHAM. Why, so you are, my thrice-renowned lord.
- KING RICHARD. Ha! am I King? 'Tis so; but Edward lives.
- BUCKINGHAM. True, noble Prince.
- KING RICHARD. O bitter consequence:
- That Edward still should live-true noble Prince!
- Cousin, thou wast not wont to be so dull.
- Shall I be plain? I wish the bastards dead.
- And I would have it suddenly perform'd.
- What say'st thou now? Speak suddenly, be brief.
- BUCKINGHAM. Your Grace may do your pleasure.
- KING RICHARD. Tut, tut, thou art all ice; thy kindness freezes.
- Say, have I thy consent that they shall die?
- BUCKINGHAM. Give me some little breath, some pause,
- dear Lord,
- Before I positively speak in this.
- I will resolve you herein presently. Exit
- CATESBY. [Aside to another] The King is angry; see, he
- gnaws his lip.
- KING RICHARD. I will converse with iron-witted fools
- [Descends from the throne]
- And unrespective boys; none are for me
- That look into me with considerate eyes.
- High-reaching Buckingham grows circumspect.
- Boy!
- PAGE. My lord?
- KING RICHARD. Know'st thou not any whom corrupting
- gold
- Will tempt unto a close exploit of death?
- PAGE. I know a discontented gentleman
- Whose humble means match not his haughty spirit.
- Gold were as good as twenty orators,
- And will, no doubt, tempt him to anything.
- KING RICHARD. What is his name?
- PAGE. His name, my lord, is Tyrrel.
- KING RICHARD. I partly know the man. Go, call him hither,
- boy. Exit PAGE
- The deep-revolving witty Buckingham
- No more shall be the neighbour to my counsels.
- Hath he so long held out with me, untir'd,
- And stops he now for breath? Well, be it so.
-
- Enter STANLEY
-
- How now, Lord Stanley! What's the news?
- STANLEY. Know, my loving lord,
- The Marquis Dorset, as I hear, is fled
- To Richmond, in the parts where he abides. [Stands apart]
- KING RICHARD. Come hither, Catesby. Rumour it abroad
- That Anne, my wife, is very grievous sick;
- I will take order for her keeping close.
- Inquire me out some mean poor gentleman,
- Whom I will marry straight to Clarence' daughter-
- The boy is foolish, and I fear not him.
- Look how thou dream'st! I say again, give out
- That Anne, my queen, is sick and like to die.
- About it; for it stands me much upon
- To stop all hopes whose growth may damage me.
- Exit CATESBY
- I must be married to my brother's daughter,
- Or else my kingdom stands on brittle glass.
- Murder her brothers, and then marry her!
- Uncertain way of gain! But I am in
- So far in blood that sin will pluck on sin.
- Tear-falling pity dwells not in this eye.
-
- Re-enter PAGE, with TYRREL
-
- Is thy name Tyrrel?
- TYRREL. James Tyrrel, and your most obedient subject.
- KING RICHARD. Art thou, indeed?
- TYRREL. Prove me, my gracious lord.
- KING RICHARD. Dar'st'thou resolve to kill a friend of mine?
- TYRREL. Please you;
- But I had rather kill two enemies.
- KING RICHARD. Why, then thou hast it. Two deep enemies,
- Foes to my rest, and my sweet sleep's disturbers,
- Are they that I would have thee deal upon.
- TYRREL, I mean those bastards in the Tower.
- TYRREL. Let me have open means to come to them,
- And soon I'll rid you from the fear of them.
- KING RICHARD. Thou sing'st sweet music. Hark, come
- hither, Tyrrel.
- Go, by this token. Rise, and lend thine ear. [Whispers]
- There is no more but so: say it is done,
- And I will love thee and prefer thee for it.
- TYRREL. I will dispatch it straight. Exit
-
- Re-enter BUCKINGHAM
-
- BUCKINGHAM. My lord, I have consider'd in my mind
- The late request that you did sound me in.
- KING RICHARD. Well, let that rest. Dorset is fled to
- Richmond.
- BUCKINGHAM. I hear the news, my lord.
- KING RICHARD. Stanley, he is your wife's son: well, look
- unto it.
- BUCKINGHAM. My lord, I claim the gift, my due by promise,
- For which your honour and your faith is pawn'd:
- Th' earldom of Hereford and the movables
- Which you have promised I shall possess.
- KING RICHARD. Stanley, look to your wife; if she convey
- Letters to Richmond, you shall answer it.
- BUCKINGHAM. What says your Highness to my just request?
- KING RICHARD. I do remember me: Henry the Sixth
- Did prophesy that Richmond should be King,
- When Richmond was a little peevish boy.
- A king!-perhaps-
- BUCKINGHAM. My lord-
- KING RICHARD. How chance the prophet could not at that
- time
- Have told me, I being by, that I should kill him?
- BUCKINGHAM. My lord, your promise for the earldom-
- KING RICHARD. Richmond! When last I was at Exeter,
- The mayor in courtesy show'd me the castle
- And call'd it Rugemount, at which name I started,
- Because a bard of Ireland told me once
- I should not live long after I saw Richmond.
- BUCKINGHAM. My lord-
- KING RICHARD. Ay, what's o'clock?
- BUCKINGHAM. I am thus bold to put your Grace in mind
- Of what you promis'd me.
- KING RICHARD. Well, but o'clock?
- BUCKINGHAM. Upon the stroke of ten.
- KING RICHARD. Well, let it strike.
- BUCKINGHAM. Why let it strike?
- KING RICHARD. Because that like a Jack thou keep'st the
- stroke
- Betwixt thy begging and my meditation.
- I am not in the giving vein to-day.
- BUCKINGHAM. May it please you to resolve me in my suit.
- KING RICHARD. Thou troublest me; I am not in the vein.
- Exeunt all but Buckingham
- BUCKINGHAM. And is it thus? Repays he my deep service
- With such contempt? Made I him King for this?
- O, let me think on Hastings, and be gone
- To Brecknock while my fearful head is on! Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 3.
-
-London. The palace
-
-Enter TYRREL
-
- TYRREL. The tyrannous and bloody act is done,
- The most arch deed of piteous massacre
- That ever yet this land was guilty of.
- Dighton and Forrest, who I did suborn
- To do this piece of ruthless butchery,
- Albeit they were flesh'd villains, bloody dogs,
- Melted with tenderness and mild compassion,
- Wept like two children in their deaths' sad story.
- 'O, thus' quoth Dighton 'lay the gentle babes'-
- 'Thus, thus,' quoth Forrest 'girdling one another
- Within their alabaster innocent arms.
- Their lips were four red roses on a stalk,
- And in their summer beauty kiss'd each other.
- A book of prayers on their pillow lay;
- Which once,' quoth Forrest 'almost chang'd my mind;
- But, O, the devil'-there the villain stopp'd;
- When Dighton thus told on: 'We smothered
- The most replenished sweet work of nature
- That from the prime creation e'er she framed.'
- Hence both are gone with conscience and remorse
- They could not speak; and so I left them both,
- To bear this tidings to the bloody King.
-
- Enter KING RICHARD
-
- And here he comes. All health, my sovereign lord!
- KING RICHARD. Kind Tyrrel, am I happy in thy news?
- TYRREL. If to have done the thing you gave in charge
- Beget your happiness, be happy then,
- For it is done.
- KING RICHARD. But didst thou see them dead?
- TYRREL. I did, my lord.
- KING RICHARD. And buried, gentle Tyrrel?
- TYRREL. The chaplain of the Tower hath buried them;
- But where, to say the truth, I do not know.
- KING RICHARD. Come to me, Tyrrel, soon at after supper,
- When thou shalt tell the process of their death.
- Meantime, but think how I may do thee good
- And be inheritor of thy desire.
- Farewell till then.
- TYRREL. I humbly take my leave. Exit
- KING RICHARD. The son of Clarence have I pent up close;
- His daughter meanly have I match'd in marriage;
- The sons of Edward sleep in Abraham's bosom,
- And Anne my wife hath bid this world good night.
- Now, for I know the Britaine Richmond aims
- At young Elizabeth, my brother's daughter,
- And by that knot looks proudly on the crown,
- To her go I, a jolly thriving wooer.
-
- Enter RATCLIFF
-
- RATCLIFF. My lord!
- KING RICHARD. Good or bad news, that thou com'st in so
- bluntly?
- RATCLIFF. Bad news, my lord: Morton is fled to Richmond;
- And Buckingham, back'd with the hardy Welshmen,
- Is in the field, and still his power increaseth.
- KING RICHARD. Ely with Richmond troubles me more near
- Than Buckingham and his rash-levied strength.
- Come, I have learn'd that fearful commenting
- Is leaden servitor to dull delay;
- Delay leads impotent and snail-pac'd beggary.
- Then fiery expedition be my wing,
- Jove's Mercury, and herald for a king!
- Go, muster men. My counsel is my shield.
- We must be brief when traitors brave the field. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 4.
-
-London. Before the palace
-
-Enter old QUEEN MARGARET
-
- QUEEN MARGARET. So now prosperity begins to mellow
- And drop into the rotten mouth of death.
- Here in these confines slily have I lurk'd
- To watch the waning of mine enemies.
- A dire induction am I witness to,
- And will to France, hoping the consequence
- Will prove as bitter, black, and tragical.
- Withdraw thee, wretched Margaret. Who comes here?
- [Retires]
-
- Enter QUEEN ELIZABETH and the DUCHESS OF YORK
-
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. Ah, my poor princes! ah, my tender
- babes!
- My unblown flowers, new-appearing sweets!
- If yet your gentle souls fly in the air
- And be not fix'd in doom perpetual,
- Hover about me with your airy wings
- And hear your mother's lamentation.
- QUEEN MARGARET. Hover about her; say that right for right
- Hath dimm'd your infant morn to aged night.
- DUCHESS. So many miseries have craz'd my voice
- That my woe-wearied tongue is still and mute.
- Edward Plantagenet, why art thou dead?
- QUEEN MARGARET. Plantagenet doth quit Plantagenet,
- Edward for Edward pays a dying debt.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. Wilt thou, O God, fly from such gentle
- lambs
- And throw them in the entrails of the wolf?
- When didst thou sleep when such a deed was done?
- QUEEN MARGARET. When holy Harry died, and my sweet
- son.
- DUCHESS. Dead life, blind sight, poor mortal living ghost,
- Woe's scene, world's shame, grave's due by life usurp'd,
- Brief abstract and record of tedious days,
- Rest thy unrest on England's lawful earth, [Sitting down]
- Unlawfully made drunk with innocent blood.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. Ah, that thou wouldst as soon afford a
- grave
- As thou canst yield a melancholy seat!
- Then would I hide my bones, not rest them here.
- Ah, who hath any cause to mourn but we?
- [Sitting down by her]
- QUEEN MARGARET. [Coming forward] If ancient sorrow be
- most reverend,
- Give mine the benefit of seniory,
- And let my griefs frown on the upper hand.
- If sorrow can admit society, [Sitting down with them]
- Tell o'er your woes again by viewing mine.
- I had an Edward, till a Richard kill'd him;
- I had a husband, till a Richard kill'd him:
- Thou hadst an Edward, till a Richard kill'd him;
- Thou hadst a Richard, till a Richard kill'd him.
- DUCHESS. I had a Richard too, and thou didst kill him;
- I had a Rutland too, thou holp'st to kill him.
- QUEEN MARGARET. Thou hadst a Clarence too, and Richard
- kill'd him.
- From forth the kennel of thy womb hath crept
- A hell-hound that doth hunt us all to death.
- That dog, that had his teeth before his eyes
- To worry lambs and lap their gentle blood,
- That foul defacer of God's handiwork,
- That excellent grand tyrant of the earth
- That reigns in galled eyes of weeping souls,
- Thy womb let loose to chase us to our graves.
- O upright, just, and true-disposing God,
- How do I thank thee that this carnal cur
- Preys on the issue of his mother's body
- And makes her pew-fellow with others' moan!
- DUCHESS. O Harry's wife, triumph not in my woes!
- God witness with me, I have wept for thine.
- QUEEN MARGARET. Bear with me; I am hungry for revenge,
- And now I cloy me with beholding it.
- Thy Edward he is dead, that kill'd my Edward;
- The other Edward dead, to quit my Edward;
- Young York he is but boot, because both they
- Match'd not the high perfection of my loss.
- Thy Clarence he is dead that stabb'd my Edward;
- And the beholders of this frantic play,
- Th' adulterate Hastings, Rivers, Vaughan, Grey,
- Untimely smother'd in their dusky graves.
- Richard yet lives, hell's black intelligencer;
- Only reserv'd their factor to buy souls
- And send them thither. But at hand, at hand,
- Ensues his piteous and unpitied end.
- Earth gapes, hell burns, fiends roar, saints pray,
- To have him suddenly convey'd from hence.
- Cancel his bond of life, dear God, I pray,
- That I may live and say 'The dog is dead.'
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. O, thou didst prophesy the time would
- come
- That I should wish for thee to help me curse
- That bottled spider, that foul bunch-back'd toad!
- QUEEN MARGARET. I Call'd thee then vain flourish of my
- fortune;
- I call'd thee then poor shadow, painted queen,
- The presentation of but what I was,
- The flattering index of a direful pageant,
- One heav'd a-high to be hurl'd down below,
- A mother only mock'd with two fair babes,
- A dream of what thou wast, a garish flag
- To be the aim of every dangerous shot,
- A sign of dignity, a breath, a bubble,
- A queen in jest, only to fill the scene.
- Where is thy husband now? Where be thy brothers?
- Where be thy two sons? Wherein dost thou joy?
- Who sues, and kneels, and says 'God save the Queen'?
- Where be the bending peers that flattered thee?
- Where be the thronging troops that followed thee?
- Decline an this, and see what now thou art:
- For happy wife, a most distressed widow;
- For joyful mother, one that wails the name;
- For one being su'd to, one that humbly sues;
- For Queen, a very caitiff crown'd with care;
- For she that scorn'd at me, now scorn'd of me;
- For she being fear'd of all, now fearing one;
- For she commanding all, obey'd of none.
- Thus hath the course of justice whirl'd about
- And left thee but a very prey to time,
- Having no more but thought of what thou wast
- To torture thee the more, being what thou art.
- Thou didst usurp my place, and dost thou not
- Usurp the just proportion of my sorrow?
- Now thy proud neck bears half my burden'd yoke,
- From which even here I slip my weary head
- And leave the burden of it all on thee.
- Farewell, York's wife, and queen of sad mischance;
- These English woes shall make me smile in France.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. O thou well skill'd in curses, stay awhile
- And teach me how to curse mine enemies!
- QUEEN MARGARET. Forbear to sleep the nights, and fast the
- days;
- Compare dead happiness with living woe;
- Think that thy babes were sweeter than they were,
- And he that slew them fouler than he is.
- Bett'ring thy loss makes the bad-causer worse;
- Revolving this will teach thee how to curse.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. My words are dull; O, quicken them
- with thine!
- QUEEN MARGARET. Thy woes will make them sharp and
- pierce like mine. Exit
- DUCHESS. Why should calamity be fun of words?
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. Windy attorneys to their client woes,
- Airy succeeders of intestate joys,
- Poor breathing orators of miseries,
- Let them have scope; though what they will impart
- Help nothing else, yet do they case the heart.
- DUCHESS. If so, then be not tongue-tied. Go with me,
- And in the breath of bitter words let's smother
- My damned son that thy two sweet sons smother'd.
- The trumpet sounds; be copious in exclaims.
-
- Enter KING RICHARD and his train, marching with
- drums and trumpets
-
- KING RICHARD. Who intercepts me in my expedition?
- DUCHESS. O, she that might have intercepted thee,
- By strangling thee in her accursed womb,
- From all the slaughters, wretch, that thou hast done!
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. Hidest thou that forehead with a golden
- crown
- Where't should be branded, if that right were right,
- The slaughter of the Prince that ow'd that crown,
- And the dire death of my poor sons and brothers?
- Tell me, thou villain slave, where are my children?
- DUCHESS. Thou toad, thou toad, where is thy brother
- Clarence?
- And little Ned Plantagenet, his son?
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. Where is the gentle Rivers, Vaughan,
- Grey?
- DUCHESS. Where is kind Hastings?
- KING RICHARD. A flourish, trumpets! Strike alarum, drums!
- Let not the heavens hear these tell-tale women
- Rail on the Lord's anointed. Strike, I say!
- [Flourish. Alarums]
- Either be patient and entreat me fair,
- Or with the clamorous report of war
- Thus will I drown your exclamations.
- DUCHESS. Art thou my son?
- KING RICHARD. Ay, I thank God, my father, and yourself.
- DUCHESS. Then patiently hear my impatience.
- KING RICHARD. Madam, I have a touch of your condition
- That cannot brook the accent of reproof.
- DUCHESS. O, let me speak!
- KING RICHARD. Do, then; but I'll not hear.
- DUCHESS. I will be mild and gentle in my words.
- KING RICHARD. And brief, good mother; for I am in haste.
- DUCHESS. Art thou so hasty? I have stay'd for thee,
- God knows, in torment and in agony.
- KING RICHARD. And came I not at last to comfort you?
- DUCHESS. No, by the holy rood, thou know'st it well
- Thou cam'st on earth to make the earth my hell.
- A grievous burden was thy birth to me;
- Tetchy and wayward was thy infancy;
- Thy school-days frightful, desp'rate, wild, and furious;
- Thy prime of manhood daring, bold, and venturous;
- Thy age confirm'd, proud, subtle, sly, and bloody,
- More mild, but yet more harmful-kind in hatred.
- What comfortable hour canst thou name
- That ever grac'd me with thy company?
- KING RICHARD. Faith, none but Humphrey Hour, that call'd
- your Grace
- To breakfast once forth of my company.
- If I be so disgracious in your eye,
- Let me march on and not offend you, madam.
- Strike up the drum.
- DUCHESS. I prithee hear me speak.
- KING RICHARD. You speak too bitterly.
- DUCHESS. Hear me a word;
- For I shall never speak to thee again.
- KING RICHARD. So.
- DUCHESS. Either thou wilt die by God's just ordinance
- Ere from this war thou turn a conqueror;
- Or I with grief and extreme age shall perish
- And never more behold thy face again.
- Therefore take with thee my most grievous curse,
- Which in the day of battle tire thee more
- Than all the complete armour that thou wear'st!
- My prayers on the adverse party fight;
- And there the little souls of Edward's children
- Whisper the spirits of thine enemies
- And promise them success and victory.
- Bloody thou art; bloody will be thy end.
- Shame serves thy life and doth thy death attend. Exit
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. Though far more cause, yet much less
- spirit to curse
- Abides in me; I say amen to her.
- KING RICHARD. Stay, madam, I must talk a word with you.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. I have no moe sons of the royal blood
- For thee to slaughter. For my daughters, Richard,
- They shall be praying nuns, not weeping queens;
- And therefore level not to hit their lives.
- KING RICHARD. You have a daughter call'd Elizabeth.
- Virtuous and fair, royal and gracious.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. And must she die for this? O, let her
- live,
- And I'll corrupt her manners, stain her beauty,
- Slander myself as false to Edward's bed,
- Throw over her the veil of infamy;
- So she may live unscarr'd of bleeding slaughter,
- I will confess she was not Edward's daughter.
- KING RICHARD. Wrong not her birth; she is a royal
- Princess.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. To save her life I'll say she is not so.
- KING RICHARD. Her life is safest only in her birth.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. And only in that safety died her
- brothers.
- KING RICHARD. Lo, at their birth good stars were opposite.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. No, to their lives ill friends were
- contrary.
- KING RICHARD. All unavoided is the doom of destiny.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. True, when avoided grace makes destiny.
- My babes were destin'd to a fairer death,
- If grace had bless'd thee with a fairer life.
- KING RICHARD. You speak as if that I had slain my cousins.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. Cousins, indeed; and by their uncle
- cozen'd
- Of comfort, kingdom, kindred, freedom, life.
- Whose hand soever lanc'd their tender hearts,
- Thy head, an indirectly, gave direction.
- No doubt the murd'rous knife was dull and blunt
- Till it was whetted on thy stone-hard heart
- To revel in the entrails of my lambs.
- But that stiff use of grief makes wild grief tame,
- My tongue should to thy ears not name my boys
- Till that my nails were anchor'd in thine eyes;
- And I, in such a desp'rate bay of death,
- Like a poor bark, of sails and tackling reft,
- Rush all to pieces on thy rocky bosom.
- KING RICHARD. Madam, so thrive I in my enterprise
- And dangerous success of bloody wars,
- As I intend more good to you and yours
- Than ever you or yours by me were harm'd!
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. What good is cover'd with the face of
- heaven,
- To be discover'd, that can do me good?
- KING RICHARD. advancement of your children, gentle
- lady.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. Up to some scaffold, there to lose their
- heads?
- KING RICHARD. Unto the dignity and height of Fortune,
- The high imperial type of this earth's glory.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. Flatter my sorrow with report of it;
- Tell me what state, what dignity, what honour,
- Canst thou demise to any child of mine?
- KING RICHARD. Even all I have-ay, and myself and all
- Will I withal endow a child of thine;
- So in the Lethe of thy angry soul
- Thou drown the sad remembrance of those wrongs
- Which thou supposest I have done to thee.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. Be brief, lest that the process of thy
- kindness
- Last longer telling than thy kindness' date.
- KING RICHARD. Then know, that from my soul I love thy
- daughter.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. My daughter's mother thinks it with her
- soul.
- KING RICHARD. What do you think?
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. That thou dost love my daughter from
- thy soul.
- So from thy soul's love didst thou love her brothers,
- And from my heart's love I do thank thee for it.
- KING RICHARD. Be not so hasty to confound my meaning.
- I mean that with my soul I love thy daughter
- And do intend to make her Queen of England.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. Well, then, who dost thou mean shall be
- her king?
- KING RICHARD. Even he that makes her Queen. Who else
- should be?
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. What, thou?
- KING RICHARD. Even so. How think you of it?
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. How canst thou woo her?
- KING RICHARD. That would I learn of you,
- As one being best acquainted with her humour.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. And wilt thou learn of me?
- KING RICHARD. Madam, with all my heart.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. Send to her, by the man that slew her
- brothers,
- A pair of bleeding hearts; thereon engrave
- 'Edward' and 'York.' Then haply will she weep;
- Therefore present to her-as sometimes Margaret
- Did to thy father, steep'd in Rutland's blood-
- A handkerchief; which, say to her, did drain
- The purple sap from her sweet brother's body,
- And bid her wipe her weeping eyes withal.
- If this inducement move her not to love,
- Send her a letter of thy noble deeds;
- Tell her thou mad'st away her uncle Clarence,
- Her uncle Rivers; ay, and for her sake
- Mad'st quick conveyance with her good aunt Anne.
- KING RICHARD. You mock me, madam; this is not the way
- To win your daughter.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. There is no other way;
- Unless thou couldst put on some other shape
- And not be Richard that hath done all this.
- KING RICHARD. Say that I did all this for love of her.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. Nay, then indeed she cannot choose but
- hate thee,
- Having bought love with such a bloody spoil.
- KING RICHARD. Look what is done cannot be now amended.
- Men shall deal unadvisedly sometimes,
- Which after-hours gives leisure to repent.
- If I did take the kingdom from your sons,
- To make amends I'll give it to your daughter.
- If I have kill'd the issue of your womb,
- To quicken your increase I will beget
- Mine issue of your blood upon your daughter.
- A grandam's name is little less in love
- Than is the doating title of a mother;
- They are as children but one step below,
- Even of your metal, of your very blood;
- Of all one pain, save for a night of groans
- Endur'd of her, for whom you bid like sorrow.
- Your children were vexation to your youth;
- But mine shall be a comfort to your age.
- The loss you have is but a son being King,
- And by that loss your daughter is made Queen.
- I cannot make you what amends I would,
- Therefore accept such kindness as I can.
- Dorset your son, that with a fearful soul
- Leads discontented steps in foreign soil,
- This fair alliance quickly shall can home
- To high promotions and great dignity.
- The King, that calls your beauteous daughter wife,
- Familiarly shall call thy Dorset brother;
- Again shall you be mother to a king,
- And all the ruins of distressful times
- Repair'd with double riches of content.
- What! we have many goodly days to see.
- The liquid drops of tears that you have shed
- Shall come again, transform'd to orient pearl,
- Advantaging their loan with interest
- Of ten times double gain of happiness.
- Go, then, my mother, to thy daughter go;
- Make bold her bashful years with your experience;
- Prepare her ears to hear a wooer's tale;
- Put in her tender heart th' aspiring flame
- Of golden sovereignty; acquaint the Princes
- With the sweet silent hours of marriage joys.
- And when this arm of mine hath chastised
- The petty rebel, dull-brain'd Buckingham,
- Bound with triumphant garlands will I come,
- And lead thy daughter to a conqueror's bed;
- To whom I will retail my conquest won,
- And she shall be sole victoress, Caesar's Caesar.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. What were I best to say? Her father's
- brother
- Would be her lord? Or shall I say her uncle?
- Or he that slew her brothers and her uncles?
- Under what title shall I woo for thee
- That God, the law, my honour, and her love
- Can make seem pleasing to her tender years?
- KING RICHARD. Infer fair England's peace by this alliance.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. Which she shall purchase with
- still-lasting war.
- KING RICHARD. Tell her the King, that may command,
- entreats.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. That at her hands which the King's
- King forbids.
- KING RICHARD. Say she shall be a high and mighty queen.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. To wail the title, as her mother doth.
- KING RICHARD. Say I will love her everlastingly.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. But how long shall that title 'ever' last?
- KING RICHARD. Sweetly in force unto her fair life's end.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. But how long fairly shall her sweet life
- last?
- KING RICHARD. As long as heaven and nature lengthens it.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. As long as hell and Richard likes of it.
- KING RICHARD. Say I, her sovereign, am her subject low.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. But she, your subject, loathes such
- sovereignty.
- KING RICHARD. Be eloquent in my behalf to her.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. An honest tale speeds best being plainly
- told.
- KING RICHARD. Then plainly to her tell my loving tale.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. Plain and not honest is too harsh a style.
- KING RICHARD. Your reasons are too shallow and too quick.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. O, no, my reasons are too deep and
- dead-
- Too deep and dead, poor infants, in their graves.
- KING RICHARD. Harp not on that string, madam; that is past.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. Harp on it still shall I till heartstrings
- break.
- KING RICHARD. Now, by my George, my garter, and my
- crown-
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. Profan'd, dishonour'd, and the third
- usurp'd.
- KING RICHARD. I swear-
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. By nothing; for this is no oath:
- Thy George, profan'd, hath lost his lordly honour;
- Thy garter, blemish'd, pawn'd his knightly virtue;
- Thy crown, usurp'd, disgrac'd his kingly glory.
- If something thou wouldst swear to be believ'd,
- Swear then by something that thou hast not wrong'd.
- KING RICHARD. Then, by my self-
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. Thy self is self-misus'd.
- KING RICHARD. Now, by the world-
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. 'Tis full of thy foul wrongs.
- KING RICHARD. My father's death-
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. Thy life hath it dishonour'd.
- KING RICHARD. Why, then, by God-
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. God's wrong is most of all.
- If thou didst fear to break an oath with Him,
- The unity the King my husband made
- Thou hadst not broken, nor my brothers died.
- If thou hadst fear'd to break an oath by Him,
- Th' imperial metal, circling now thy head,
- Had grac'd the tender temples of my child;
- And both the Princes had been breathing here,
- Which now, two tender bedfellows for dust,
- Thy broken faith hath made the prey for worms.
- What canst thou swear by now?
- KING RICHARD. The time to come.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. That thou hast wronged in the time
- o'erpast;
- For I myself have many tears to wash
- Hereafter time, for time past wrong'd by thee.
- The children live whose fathers thou hast slaughter'd,
- Ungovern'd youth, to wail it in their age;
- The parents live whose children thou hast butcheed,
- Old barren plants, to wail it with their age.
- Swear not by time to come; for that thou hast
- Misus'd ere us'd, by times ill-us'd o'erpast.
- KING RICHARD. As I intend to prosper and repent,
- So thrive I in my dangerous affairs
- Of hostile arms! Myself myself confound!
- Heaven and fortune bar me happy hours!
- Day, yield me not thy light; nor, night, thy rest!
- Be opposite all planets of good luck
- To my proceeding!-if, with dear heart's love,
- Immaculate devotion, holy thoughts,
- I tender not thy beauteous princely daughter.
- In her consists my happiness and thine;
- Without her, follows to myself and thee,
- Herself, the land, and many a Christian soul,
- Death, desolation, ruin, and decay.
- It cannot be avoided but by this;
- It will not be avoided but by this.
- Therefore, dear mother-I must call you so-
- Be the attorney of my love to her;
- Plead what I will be, not what I have been;
- Not my deserts, but what I will deserve.
- Urge the necessity and state of times,
- And be not peevish-fond in great designs.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. Shall I be tempted of the devil thus?
- KING RICHARD. Ay, if the devil tempt you to do good.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. Shall I forget myself to be myself?
- KING RICHARD. Ay, if your self's remembrance wrong
- yourself.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. Yet thou didst kill my children.
- KING RICHARD. But in your daughter's womb I bury them;
- Where, in that nest of spicery, they will breed
- Selves of themselves, to your recomforture.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. Shall I go win my daughter to thy will?
- KING RICHARD. And be a happy mother by the deed.
- QUEEN ELIZABETH. I go. Write to me very shortly,
- And you shall understand from me her mind.
- KING RICHARD. Bear her my true love's kiss; and so, farewell.
- Kissing her. Exit QUEEN ELIZABETH
- Relenting fool, and shallow, changing woman!
-
- Enter RATCLIFF; CATESBY following
-
- How now! what news?
- RATCLIFF. Most mighty sovereign, on the western coast
- Rideth a puissant navy; to our shores
- Throng many doubtful hollow-hearted friends,
- Unarm'd, and unresolv'd to beat them back.
- 'Tis thought that Richmond is their admiral;
- And there they hull, expecting but the aid
- Of Buckingham to welcome them ashore.
- KING RICHARD. Some light-foot friend post to the Duke of
- Norfolk.
- Ratcliff, thyself-or Catesby; where is he?
- CATESBY. Here, my good lord.
- KING RICHARD. Catesby, fly to the Duke.
- CATESBY. I will my lord, with all convenient haste.
- KING RICHARD. Ratcliff, come hither. Post to Salisbury;
- When thou com'st thither- [To CATESBY] Dull,
- unmindfull villain,
- Why stay'st thou here, and go'st not to the Duke?
- CATESBY. First, mighty liege, tell me your Highness' pleasure,
- What from your Grace I shall deliver to him.
- KING RICHARD. O, true, good Catesby. Bid him levy straight
- The greatest strength and power that he can make
- And meet me suddenly at Salisbury.
- CATESBY. I go. Exit
- RATCLIFF. What, may it please you, shall I do at Salisbury?
- KING RICHARD. Why, what wouldst thou do there before I
- go?
- RATCLIFF. Your Highness told me I should post before.
- KING RICHARD. My mind is chang'd.
-
- Enter LORD STANLEY
-
- STANLEY, what news with you?
- STANLEY. None good, my liege, to please you with
- the hearing;
- Nor none so bad but well may be reported.
- KING RICHARD. Hoyday, a riddle! neither good nor bad!
- What need'st thou run so many miles about,
- When thou mayest tell thy tale the nearest way?
- Once more, what news?
- STANLEY. Richmond is on the seas.
- KING RICHARD. There let him sink, and be the seas on him!
- White-liver'd runagate, what doth he there?
- STANLEY. I know not, mighty sovereign, but by guess.
- KING RICHARD. Well, as you guess?
- STANLEY. Stirr'd up by Dorset, Buckingham, and Morton,
- He makes for England here to claim the crown.
- KING RICHARD. Is the chair empty? Is the sword unsway'd?
- Is the King dead, the empire unpossess'd?
- What heir of York is there alive but we?
- And who is England's King but great York's heir?
- Then tell me what makes he upon the seas.
- STANLEY. Unless for that, my liege, I cannot guess.
- KING RICHARD. Unless for that he comes to be your liege,
- You cannot guess wherefore the Welshman comes.
- Thou wilt revolt and fly to him, I fear.
- STANLEY. No, my good lord; therefore mistrust me not.
- KING RICHARD. Where is thy power then, to beat him back?
- Where be thy tenants and thy followers?
- Are they not now upon the western shore,
- Safe-conducting the rebels from their ships?
- STANLEY. No, my good lord, my friends are in the north.
- KING RICHARD. Cold friends to me. What do they in the
- north,
- When they should serve their sovereign in the west?
- STANLEY. They have not been commanded, mighty King.
- Pleaseth your Majesty to give me leave,
- I'll muster up my friends and meet your Grace
- Where and what time your Majesty shall please.
- KING RICHARD. Ay, ay, thou wouldst be gone to join with
- Richmond;
- But I'll not trust thee.
- STANLEY. Most mighty sovereign,
- You have no cause to hold my friendship doubtful.
- I never was nor never will be false.
- KING RICHARD. Go, then, and muster men. But leave behind
- Your son, George Stanley. Look your heart be firm,
- Or else his head's assurance is but frail.
- STANLEY. So deal with him as I prove true to you. Exit
-
- Enter a MESSENGER
-
- MESSENGER. My gracious sovereign, now in Devonshire,
- As I by friends am well advertised,
- Sir Edward Courtney and the haughty prelate,
- Bishop of Exeter, his elder brother,
- With many moe confederates, are in arms.
-
- Enter another MESSENGER
-
- SECOND MESSENGER. In Kent, my liege, the Guilfords are in
- arms;
- And every hour more competitors
- Flock to the rebels, and their power grows strong.
-
- Enter another MESSENGER
-
- THIRD MESSENGER. My lord, the army of great Buckingham-
- KING RICHARD. Out on you, owls! Nothing but songs of
- death? [He strikes him]
- There, take thou that till thou bring better news.
- THIRD MESSENGER. The news I have to tell your Majesty
- Is that by sudden floods and fall of waters
- Buckingham's army is dispers'd and scatter'd;
- And he himself wand'red away alone,
- No man knows whither.
- KING RICHARD. I cry thee mercy.
- There is my purse to cure that blow of thine.
- Hath any well-advised friend proclaim'd
- Reward to him that brings the traitor in?
- THIRD MESSENGER. Such proclamation hath been made,
- my Lord.
-
- Enter another MESSENGER
-
- FOURTH MESSENGER. Sir Thomas Lovel and Lord Marquis
- Dorset,
- 'Tis said, my liege, in Yorkshire are in arms.
- But this good comfort bring I to your Highness-
- The Britaine navy is dispers'd by tempest.
- Richmond in Dorsetshire sent out a boat
- Unto the shore, to ask those on the banks
- If they were his assistants, yea or no;
- Who answer'd him they came from Buckingham
- Upon his party. He, mistrusting them,
- Hois'd sail, and made his course again for Britaine.
- KING RICHARD. March on, march on, since we are up in
- arms;
- If not to fight with foreign enemies,
- Yet to beat down these rebels here at home.
-
- Re-enter CATESBY
-
- CATESBY. My liege, the Duke of Buckingham is taken-
- That is the best news. That the Earl of Richmond
- Is with a mighty power landed at Milford
- Is colder tidings, yet they must be told.
- KING RICHARD. Away towards Salisbury! While we reason
- here
- A royal battle might be won and lost.
- Some one take order Buckingham be brought
- To Salisbury; the rest march on with me.
- Flourish. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 5.
-
-LORD DERBY'S house
-
-Enter STANLEY and SIR CHRISTOPHER URSWICK
-
- STANLEY. Sir Christopher, tell Richmond this from me:
- That in the sty of the most deadly boar
- My son George Stanley is frank'd up in hold;
- If I revolt, off goes young George's head;
- The fear of that holds off my present aid.
- So, get thee gone; commend me to thy lord.
- Withal say that the Queen hath heartily consented
- He should espouse Elizabeth her daughter.
- But tell me, where is princely Richmond now?
- CHRISTOPHER. At Pembroke, or at Ha'rford west in Wales.
- STANLEY. What men of name resort to him?
- CHRISTOPHER. Sir Walter Herbert, a renowned soldier;
- SIR Gilbert Talbot, Sir William Stanley,
- OXFORD, redoubted Pembroke, Sir James Blunt,
- And Rice ap Thomas, with a valiant crew;
- And many other of great name and worth;
- And towards London do they bend their power,
- If by the way they be not fought withal.
- STANLEY. Well, hie thee to thy lord; I kiss his hand;
- My letter will resolve him of my mind.
- Farewell. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT V. SCENE 1.
-
-Salisbury. An open place
-
-Enter the SHERIFF and guard, with BUCKINGHAM, led to execution
-
- BUCKINGHAM. Will not King Richard let me speak with
- him?
- SHERIFF. No, my good lord; therefore be patient.
- BUCKINGHAM. Hastings, and Edward's children, Grey, and
- Rivers,
- Holy King Henry, and thy fair son Edward,
- Vaughan, and all that have miscarried
- By underhand corrupted foul injustice,
- If that your moody discontented souls
- Do through the clouds behold this present hour,
- Even for revenge mock my destruction!
- This is All-Souls' day, fellow, is it not?
- SHERIFF. It is, my lord.
- BUCKINGHAM. Why, then All-Souls' day is my body's
- doomsday.
- This is the day which in King Edward's time
- I wish'd might fall on me when I was found
- False to his children and his wife's allies;
- This is the day wherein I wish'd to fall
- By the false faith of him whom most I trusted;
- This, this All-Souls' day to my fearful soul
- Is the determin'd respite of my wrongs;
- That high All-Seer which I dallied with
- Hath turn'd my feigned prayer on my head
- And given in earnest what I begg'd in jest.
- Thus doth He force the swords of wicked men
- To turn their own points in their masters' bosoms.
- Thus Margaret's curse falls heavy on my neck.
- 'When he' quoth she 'shall split thy heart with sorrow,
- Remember Margaret was a prophetess.'
- Come lead me, officers, to the block of shame;
- Wrong hath but wrong, and blame the due of blame. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 2.
-
-Camp near Tamworth
-
-Enter RICHMOND, OXFORD, SIR JAMES BLUNT, SIR WALTER HERBERT, and others,
-with drum and colours
-
- RICHMOND. Fellows in arms, and my most loving friends,
- Bruis'd underneath the yoke of tyranny,
- Thus far into the bowels of the land
- Have we march'd on without impediment;
- And here receive we from our father Stanley
- Lines of fair comfort and encouragement.
- The wretched, bloody, and usurping boar,
- That spoil'd your summer fields and fruitful vines,
- Swills your warm blood like wash, and makes his trough
- In your embowell'd bosoms-this foul swine
- Is now even in the centre of this isle,
- Near to the town of Leicester, as we learn.
- From Tamworth thither is but one day's march.
- In God's name cheerly on, courageous friends,
- To reap the harvest of perpetual peace
- By this one bloody trial of sharp war.
- OXFORD. Every man's conscience is a thousand men,
- To fight against this guilty homicide.
- HERBERT. I doubt not but his friends will turn to us.
- BLUNT. He hath no friends but what are friends for fear,
- Which in his dearest need will fly from him.
- RICHMOND. All for our vantage. Then in God's name march.
- True hope is swift and flies with swallow's wings;
- Kings it makes gods, and meaner creatures kings. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 3.
-
-Bosworth Field
-
-Enter KING RICHARD in arms, with NORFOLK, RATCLIFF,
-the EARL of SURREYS and others
-
- KING RICHARD. Here pitch our tent, even here in Bosworth
- field.
- My Lord of Surrey, why look you so sad?
- SURREY. My heart is ten times lighter than my looks.
- KING RICHARD. My Lord of Norfolk!
- NORFOLK. Here, most gracious liege.
- KING RICHARD. Norfolk, we must have knocks; ha! must we
- not?
- NORFOLK. We must both give and take, my loving lord.
- KING RICHARD. Up With my tent! Here will I lie to-night;
- [Soldiers begin to set up the KING'S tent]
- But where to-morrow? Well, all's one for that.
- Who hath descried the number of the traitors?
- NORFOLK. Six or seven thousand is their utmost power.
- KING RICHARD. Why, our battalia trebles that account;
- Besides, the King's name is a tower of strength,
- Which they upon the adverse faction want.
- Up with the tent! Come, noble gentlemen,
- Let us survey the vantage of the ground.
- Call for some men of sound direction.
- Let's lack no discipline, make no delay;
- For, lords, to-morrow is a busy day. Exeunt
-
- Enter, on the other side of the field,
- RICHMOND, SIR WILLIAM BRANDON, OXFORD, DORSET,
- and others. Some pitch RICHMOND'S tent
-
- RICHMOND. The weary sun hath made a golden set,
- And by the bright tract of his fiery car
- Gives token of a goodly day to-morrow.
- Sir William Brandon, you shall bear my standard.
- Give me some ink and paper in my tent.
- I'll draw the form and model of our battle,
- Limit each leader to his several charge,
- And part in just proportion our small power.
- My Lord of Oxford-you, Sir William Brandon-
- And you, Sir Walter Herbert-stay with me.
- The Earl of Pembroke keeps his regiment;
- Good Captain Blunt, bear my good night to him,
- And by the second hour in the morning
- Desire the Earl to see me in my tent.
- Yet one thing more, good Captain, do for me-
- Where is Lord Stanley quarter'd, do you know?
- BLUNT. Unless I have mista'en his colours much-
- Which well I am assur'd I have not done-
- His regiment lies half a mile at least
- South from the mighty power of the King.
- RICHMOND. If without peril it be possible,
- Sweet Blunt, make some good means to speak with him
- And give him from me this most needful note.
- BLUNT. Upon my life, my lord, I'll undertake it;
- And so, God give you quiet rest to-night!
- RICHMOND. Good night, good Captain Blunt. Come,
- gentlemen,
- Let us consult upon to-morrow's business.
- In to my tent; the dew is raw and cold.
- [They withdraw into the tent]
-
- Enter, to his-tent, KING RICHARD, NORFOLK,
- RATCLIFF, and CATESBY
-
- KING RICHARD. What is't o'clock?
- CATESBY. It's supper-time, my lord;
- It's nine o'clock.
- KING RICHARD. I will not sup to-night.
- Give me some ink and paper.
- What, is my beaver easier than it was?
- And all my armour laid into my tent?
- CATESBY. It is, my liege; and all things are in readiness.
- KING RICHARD. Good Norfolk, hie thee to thy charge;
- Use careful watch, choose trusty sentinels.
- NORFOLK. I go, my lord.
- KING RICHARD. Stir with the lark to-morrow, gentle Norfolk.
- NORFOLK. I warrant you, my lord. Exit
- KING RICHARD. Catesby!
- CATESBY. My lord?
- KING RICHARD. Send out a pursuivant-at-arms
- To Stanley's regiment; bid him bring his power
- Before sunrising, lest his son George fall
- Into the blind cave of eternal night. Exit CATESBY
- Fill me a bowl of wine. Give me a watch.
- Saddle white Surrey for the field to-morrow.
- Look that my staves be sound, and not too heavy.
- Ratcliff!
- RATCLIFF. My lord?
- KING RICHARD. Saw'st thou the melancholy Lord
- Northumberland?
- RATCLIFF. Thomas the Earl of Surrey and himself,
- Much about cock-shut time, from troop to troop
- Went through the army, cheering up the soldiers.
- KING RICHARD. So, I am satisfied. Give me a bowl of wine.
- I have not that alacrity of spirit
- Nor cheer of mind that I was wont to have.
- Set it down. Is ink and paper ready?
- RATCLIFF. It is, my lord.
- KING RICHARD. Bid my guard watch; leave me.
- RATCLIFF, about the mid of night come to my tent
- And help to arm me. Leave me, I say.
- Exit RATCLIFF. RICHARD sleeps
-
- Enter DERBY to RICHMOND in his tent;
- LORDS attending
-
- DERBY. Fortune and victory sit on thy helm!
- RICHMOND. All comfort that the dark night can afford
- Be to thy person, noble father-in-law!
- Tell me, how fares our loving mother?
- DERBY. I, by attorney, bless thee from thy mother,
- Who prays continually for Richmond's good.
- So much for that. The silent hours steal on,
- And flaky darkness breaks within the east.
- In brief, for so the season bids us be,
- Prepare thy battle early in the morning,
- And put thy fortune to the arbitrement
- Of bloody strokes and mortal-staring war.
- I, as I may-that which I would I cannot-
- With best advantage will deceive the time
- And aid thee in this doubtful shock of arms;
- But on thy side I may not be too forward,
- Lest, being seen, thy brother, tender George,
- Be executed in his father's sight.
- Farewell; the leisure and the fearful time
- Cuts off the ceremonious vows of love
- And ample interchange of sweet discourse
- Which so-long-sund'red friends should dwell upon.
- God give us leisure for these rites of love!
- Once more, adieu; be valiant, and speed well!
- RICHMOND. Good lords, conduct him to his regiment.
- I'll strive with troubled thoughts to take a nap,
- Lest leaden slumber peise me down to-morrow
- When I should mount with wings of victory.
- Once more, good night, kind lords and gentlemen.
- Exeunt all but RICHMOND
- O Thou, whose captain I account myself,
- Look on my forces with a gracious eye;
- Put in their hands Thy bruising irons of wrath,
- That they may crush down with a heavy fall
- The usurping helmets of our adversaries!
- Make us Thy ministers of chastisement,
- That we may praise Thee in the victory!
- To Thee I do commend my watchful soul
- Ere I let fall the windows of mine eyes.
- Sleeping and waking, O, defend me still! [Sleeps]
-
- Enter the GHOST Of YOUNG PRINCE EDWARD,
- son to HENRY THE SIXTH
-
- GHOST. [To RICHARD] Let me sit heavy on thy soul
- to-morrow!
- Think how thou stabb'dst me in my prime of youth
- At Tewksbury; despair, therefore, and die!
- [To RICHMOND] Be cheerful, Richmond; for the wronged
- souls
- Of butcher'd princes fight in thy behalf.
- King Henry's issue, Richmond, comforts thee.
-
- Enter the GHOST of HENRY THE SIXTH
-
- GHOST. [To RICHARD] When I was mortal, my anointed
- body
- By thee was punched full of deadly holes.
- Think on the Tower and me. Despair, and die.
- Harry the Sixth bids thee despair and die.
- [To RICHMOND] Virtuous and holy, be thou conqueror!
- Harry, that prophesied thou shouldst be King,
- Doth comfort thee in thy sleep. Live and flourish!
-
- Enter the GHOST of CLARENCE
-
- GHOST. [To RICHARD] Let me sit heavy in thy soul
- to-morrow! I that was wash'd to death with fulsome wine,
- Poor Clarence, by thy guile betray'd to death!
- To-morrow in the battle think on me,
- And fall thy edgeless sword. Despair and die!
- [To RICHMOND] Thou offspring of the house of Lancaster,
- The wronged heirs of York do pray for thee.
- Good angels guard thy battle! Live and flourish!
-
- Enter the GHOSTS of RIVERS, GREY, and VAUGHAN
-
- GHOST OF RIVERS. [To RICHARD] Let me sit heavy in thy
- soul to-morrow,
- Rivers that died at Pomfret! Despair and die!
- GHOST OF GREY. [To RICHARD] Think upon Grey, and let
- thy soul despair!
- GHOST OF VAUGHAN. [To RICHARD] Think upon Vaughan,
- and with guilty fear
- Let fall thy lance. Despair and die!
- ALL. [To RICHMOND] Awake, and think our wrongs in
- Richard's bosom
- Will conquer him. Awake and win the day.
-
- Enter the GHOST of HASTINGS
-
- GHOST. [To RICHARD] Bloody and guilty, guiltily awake,
- And in a bloody battle end thy days!
- Think on Lord Hastings. Despair and die.
- [To RICHMOND] Quiet untroubled soul, awake, awake!
- Arm, fight, and conquer, for fair England's sake!
-
- Enter the GHOSTS of the two young PRINCES
-
- GHOSTS. [To RICHARD] Dream on thy cousins smothered in
- the Tower.
- Let us be lead within thy bosom, Richard,
- And weigh thee down to ruin, shame, and death!
- Thy nephews' souls bid thee despair and die.
- [To RICHMOND] Sleep, Richmond, sleep in peace, and
- wake in joy;
- Good angels guard thee from the boar's annoy!
- Live, and beget a happy race of kings!
- Edward's unhappy sons do bid thee flourish.
-
- Enter the GHOST of LADY ANNE, his wife
-
- GHOST. [To RICHARD] Richard, thy wife, that wretched
- Anne thy wife
- That never slept a quiet hour with thee
- Now fills thy sleep with perturbations.
- To-morrow in the battle think on me,
- And fall thy edgeless sword. Despair and die.
- [To RICHMOND] Thou quiet soul, sleep thou a quiet sleep;
- Dream of success and happy victory.
- Thy adversary's wife doth pray for thee.
-
- Enter the GHOST of BUCKINGHAM
-
- GHOST. [To RICHARD] The first was I that help'd thee
- to the crown;
- The last was I that felt thy tyranny.
- O, in the battle think on Buckingham,
- And die in terror of thy guiltiness!
- Dream on, dream on of bloody deeds and death;
- Fainting, despair; despairing, yield thy breath!
- [To RICHMOND] I died for hope ere I could lend thee aid;
- But cheer thy heart and be thou not dismay'd:
- God and good angels fight on Richmond's side;
- And Richard falls in height of all his pride.
- [The GHOSTS vanish. RICHARD starts out of his dream]
- KING RICHARD. Give me another horse. Bind up my wounds.
- Have mercy, Jesu! Soft! I did but dream.
- O coward conscience, how dost thou afflict me!
- The lights burn blue. It is now dead midnight.
- Cold fearful drops stand on my trembling flesh.
- What do I fear? Myself? There's none else by.
- Richard loves Richard; that is, I am I.
- Is there a murderer here? No-yes, I am.
- Then fly. What, from myself? Great reason why-
- Lest I revenge. What, myself upon myself!
- Alack, I love myself. Wherefore? For any good
- That I myself have done unto myself?
- O, no! Alas, I rather hate myself
- For hateful deeds committed by myself!
- I am a villain; yet I lie, I am not.
- Fool, of thyself speak well. Fool, do not flatter.
- My conscience hath a thousand several tongues,
- And every tongue brings in a several tale,
- And every tale condemns me for a villain.
- Perjury, perjury, in the high'st degree;
- Murder, stern murder, in the dir'st degree;
- All several sins, all us'd in each degree,
- Throng to the bar, crying all 'Guilty! guilty!'
- I shall despair. There is no creature loves me;
- And if I die no soul will pity me:
- And wherefore should they, since that I myself
- Find in myself no pity to myself?
- Methought the souls of all that I had murder'd
- Came to my tent, and every one did threat
- To-morrow's vengeance on the head of Richard.
-
- Enter RATCLIFF
-
- RATCLIFF. My lord!
- KING RICHARD. Zounds, who is there?
- RATCLIFF. Ratcliff, my lord; 'tis I. The early village-cock
- Hath twice done salutation to the morn;
- Your friends are up and buckle on their armour.
- KING RICHARD. O Ratcliff, I have dream'd a fearful dream!
- What think'st thou-will our friends prove all true?
- RATCLIFF. No doubt, my lord.
- KING RICHARD. O Ratcliff, I fear, I fear.
- RATCLIFF. Nay, good my lord, be not afraid of shadows.
- KING RICHARD By the apostle Paul, shadows to-night
- Have stuck more terror to the soul of Richard
- Than can the substance of ten thousand soldiers
- Armed in proof and led by shallow Richmond.
- 'Tis not yet near day. Come, go with me;
- Under our tents I'll play the eaves-dropper,
- To see if any mean to shrink from me. Exeunt
-
- Enter the LORDS to RICHMOND sitting in his tent
-
- LORDS. Good morrow, Richmond!
- RICHMOND. Cry mercy, lords and watchful gentlemen,
- That you have ta'en a tardy sluggard here.
- LORDS. How have you slept, my lord?
- RICHMOND. The sweetest sleep and fairest-boding dreams
- That ever ent'red in a drowsy head
- Have I since your departure had, my lords.
- Methought their souls whose bodies Richard murder'd
- Came to my tent and cried on victory.
- I promise you my soul is very jocund
- In the remembrance of so fair a dream.
- How far into the morning is it, lords?
- LORDS. Upon the stroke of four.
- RICHMOND. Why, then 'tis time to arm and give direction.
-
- His ORATION to his SOLDIERS
-
- More than I have said, loving countrymen,
- The leisure and enforcement of the time
- Forbids to dwell upon; yet remember this:
- God and our good cause fight upon our side;
- The prayers of holy saints and wronged souls,
- Like high-rear'd bulwarks, stand before our faces;
- Richard except, those whom we fight against
- Had rather have us win than him they follow.
- For what is he they follow? Truly, gentlemen,
- A bloody tyrant and a homicide;
- One rais'd in blood, and one in blood establish'd;
- One that made means to come by what he hath,
- And slaughtered those that were the means to help him;
- A base foul stone, made precious by the foil
- Of England's chair, where he is falsely set;
- One that hath ever been God's enemy.
- Then if you fight against God's enemy,
- God will in justice ward you as his soldiers;
- If you do sweat to put a tyrant down,
- You sleep in peace, the tyrant being slain;
- If you do fight against your country's foes,
- Your country's foes shall pay your pains the hire;
- If you do fight in safeguard of your wives,
- Your wives shall welcome home the conquerors;
- If you do free your children from the sword,
- Your children's children quits it in your age.
- Then, in the name of God and all these rights,
- Advance your standards, draw your willing swords.
- For me, the ransom of my bold attempt
- Shall be this cold corpse on the earth's cold face;
- But if I thrive, the gain of my attempt
- The least of you shall share his part thereof.
- Sound drums and trumpets boldly and cheerfully;
- God and Saint George! Richmond and victory! Exeunt
-
- Re-enter KING RICHARD, RATCLIFF, attendants,
- and forces
-
- KING RICHARD. What said Northumberland as touching
- Richmond?
- RATCLIFF. That he was never trained up in arms.
- KING RICHARD. He said the truth; and what said Surrey
- then?
- RATCLIFF. He smil'd, and said 'The better for our purpose.'
- KING He was in the right; and so indeed it is.
- [Clock strikes]
- Tell the clock there. Give me a calendar.
- Who saw the sun to-day?
- RATCLIFF. Not I, my lord.
- KING RICHARD. Then he disdains to shine; for by the book
- He should have brav'd the east an hour ago.
- A black day will it be to somebody.
- Ratcliff!
- RATCLIFF. My lord?
- KING RICHARD. The sun will not be seen to-day;
- The sky doth frown and lour upon our army.
- I would these dewy tears were from the ground.
- Not shine to-day! Why, what is that to me
- More than to Richmond? For the selfsame heaven
- That frowns on me looks sadly upon him.
-
- Enter NORFOLK
-
- NORFOLK. Arm, arm, my lord; the foe vaunts in the field.
- KING RICHARD. Come, bustle, bustle; caparison my horse;
- Call up Lord Stanley, bid him bring his power.
- I will lead forth my soldiers to the plain,
- And thus my battle shall be ordered:
- My foreward shall be drawn out all in length,
- Consisting equally of horse and foot;
- Our archers shall be placed in the midst.
- John Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Earl of Surrey,
- Shall have the leading of this foot and horse.
- They thus directed, we will follow
- In the main battle, whose puissance on either side
- Shall be well winged with our chiefest horse.
- This, and Saint George to boot! What think'st thou,
- Norfolk?
- NORFOLK. A good direction, warlike sovereign.
- This found I on my tent this morning.
- [He sheweth him a paper]
- KING RICHARD. [Reads]
- 'Jockey of Norfolk, be not so bold,
- For Dickon thy master is bought and sold.'
- A thing devised by the enemy.
- Go, gentlemen, every man unto his charge.
- Let not our babbling dreams affright our souls;
- Conscience is but a word that cowards use,
- Devis'd at first to keep the strong in awe.
- Our strong arms be our conscience, swords our law.
- March on, join bravely, let us to it pell-mell;
- If not to heaven, then hand in hand to hell.
-
- His ORATION to his ARMY
-
- What shall I say more than I have inferr'd?
- Remember whom you are to cope withal-
- A sort of vagabonds, rascals, and runaways,
- A scum of Britaines, and base lackey peasants,
- Whom their o'er-cloyed country vomits forth
- To desperate adventures and assur'd destruction.
- You sleeping safe, they bring to you unrest;
- You having lands, and bless'd with beauteous wives,
- They would restrain the one, distain the other.
- And who doth lead them but a paltry fellow,
- Long kept in Britaine at our mother's cost?
- A milk-sop, one that never in his life
- Felt so much cold as over shoes in snow?
- Let's whip these stragglers o'er the seas again;
- Lash hence these over-weening rags of France,
- These famish'd beggars, weary of their lives;
- Who, but for dreaming on this fond exploit,
- For want of means, poor rats, had hang'd themselves.
- If we be conquered, let men conquer us,
- And not these bastard Britaines, whom our fathers
- Have in their own land beaten, bobb'd, and thump'd,
- And, in record, left them the heirs of shame.
- Shall these enjoy our lands? lie with our wives,
- Ravish our daughters? [Drum afar off] Hark! I hear their
- drum.
- Fight, gentlemen of England! Fight, bold yeomen!
- Draw, archers, draw your arrows to the head!
- Spur your proud horses hard, and ride in blood;
- Amaze the welkin with your broken staves!
-
- Enter a MESSENGER
-
- What says Lord Stanley? Will he bring his power?
- MESSENGER. My lord, he doth deny to come.
- KING RICHARD. Off with his son George's head!
- NORFOLK. My lord, the enemy is pass'd the marsh.
- After the battle let George Stanley die.
- KING RICHARD. A thousand hearts are great within my
- bosom.
- Advance our standards, set upon our foes;
- Our ancient word of courage, fair Saint George,
- Inspire us with the spleen of fiery dragons!
- Upon them! Victory sits on our helms. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 4.
-
-Another part of the field
-
-Alarum; excursions. Enter NORFOLK and forces; to him CATESBY
-
- CATESBY. Rescue, my Lord of Norfolk, rescue, rescue!
- The King enacts more wonders than a man,
- Daring an opposite to every danger.
- His horse is slain, and all on foot he fights,
- Seeking for Richmond in the throat of death.
- Rescue, fair lord, or else the day is lost.
-
- Alarums. Enter KING RICHARD
-
- KING RICHARD. A horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse!
- CATESBY. Withdraw, my lord! I'll help you to a horse.
- KING RICHARD. Slave, I have set my life upon a cast
- And I Will stand the hazard of the die.
- I think there be six Richmonds in the field;
- Five have I slain to-day instead of him.
- A horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse! Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 5.
-
-Another part of the field
-
-Alarum. Enter RICHARD and RICHMOND; they fight; RICHARD is slain.
-Retreat and flourish. Enter RICHMOND, DERBY bearing the crown,
-with other LORDS
-
- RICHMOND. God and your arms be prais'd, victorious friends;
- The day is ours, the bloody dog is dead.
- DERBY. Courageous Richmond, well hast thou acquit thee!
- Lo, here, this long-usurped royalty
- From the dead temples of this bloody wretch
- Have I pluck'd off, to grace thy brows withal.
- Wear it, enjoy it, and make much of it.
- RICHMOND. Great God of heaven, say Amen to all!
- But, teLL me is young George Stanley living.
- DERBY. He is, my lord, and safe in Leicester town,
- Whither, if it please you, we may now withdraw us.
- RICHMOND. What men of name are slain on either side?
- DERBY. John Duke of Norfolk, Walter Lord Ferrers,
- Sir Robert Brakenbury, and Sir William Brandon.
- RICHMOND. Inter their bodies as becomes their births.
- Proclaim a pardon to the soldiers fled
- That in submission will return to us.
- And then, as we have ta'en the sacrament,
- We will unite the white rose and the red.
- Smile heaven upon this fair conjunction,
- That long have frown'd upon their emnity!
- What traitor hears me, and says not Amen?
- England hath long been mad, and scarr'd herself;
- The brother blindly shed the brother's blood,
- The father rashly slaughter'd his own son,
- The son, compell'd, been butcher to the sire;
- All this divided York and Lancaster,
- Divided in their dire division,
- O, now let Richmond and Elizabeth,
- The true succeeders of each royal house,
- By God's fair ordinance conjoin together!
- And let their heirs, God, if thy will be so,
- Enrich the time to come with smooth-fac'd peace,
- With smiling plenty, and fair prosperous days!
- Abate the edge of traitors, gracious Lord,
- That would reduce these bloody days again
- And make poor England weep in streams of blood!
- Let them not live to taste this land's increase
- That would with treason wound this fair land's peace!
- Now civil wounds are stopp'd, peace lives again-
- That she may long live here, God say Amen! Exeunt
-
-THE END
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-
-
-1595
-
-
-THE TRAGEDY OF ROMEO AND JULIET
-
-by William Shakespeare
-
-
-
-Dramatis Personae
-
- Chorus.
-
- Escalus, Prince of Verona.
- Paris, a young Count, kinsman to the Prince.
- Montague, heads of two houses at variance with each other.
- Capulet, heads of two houses at variance with each other.
- An old Man, of the Capulet family.
- Romeo, son to Montague.
- Tybalt, nephew to Lady Capulet.
- Mercutio, kinsman to the Prince and friend to Romeo.
- Benvolio, nephew to Montague, and friend to Romeo
- Tybalt, nephew to Lady Capulet.
- Friar Laurence, Franciscan.
- Friar John, Franciscan.
- Balthasar, servant to Romeo.
- Abram, servant to Montague.
- Sampson, servant to Capulet.
- Gregory, servant to Capulet.
- Peter, servant to Juliet's nurse.
- An Apothecary.
- Three Musicians.
- An Officer.
-
- Lady Montague, wife to Montague.
- Lady Capulet, wife to Capulet.
- Juliet, daughter to Capulet.
- Nurse to Juliet.
-
- Citizens of Verona; Gentlemen and Gentlewomen of both houses;
- Maskers, Torchbearers, Pages, Guards, Watchmen, Servants, and
- Attendants.
-
- SCENE.--Verona; Mantua.
-
-
-
- THE PROLOGUE
-
- Enter Chorus.
-
- Chor. Two households, both alike in dignity,
- In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,
- From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,
- Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.
- From forth the fatal loins of these two foes
- A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life;
- Whose misadventur'd piteous overthrows
- Doth with their death bury their parents' strife.
- The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love,
- And the continuance of their parents' rage,
- Which, but their children's end, naught could remove,
- Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage;
- The which if you with patient ears attend,
- What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.
- [Exit.]
-
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-ACT I. Scene I.
-Verona. A public place.
-
-Enter Sampson and Gregory (with swords and bucklers) of the house of Capulet.
-
- Samp. Gregory, on my word, we'll not carry coals.
- Greg. No, for then we should be colliers.
- Samp. I mean, an we be in choler, we'll draw.
- Greg. Ay, while you live, draw your neck out of collar.
- Samp. I strike quickly, being moved.
- Greg. But thou art not quickly moved to strike.
- Samp. A dog of the house of Montague moves me.
- Greg. To move is to stir, and to be valiant is to stand.
- Therefore, if thou art moved, thou runn'st away.
- Samp. A dog of that house shall move me to stand. I will take the
- wall of any man or maid of Montague's.
- Greg. That shows thee a weak slave; for the weakest goes to the
- wall.
- Samp. 'Tis true; and therefore women, being the weaker vessels, are
- ever thrust to the wall. Therefore I will push Montague's men
- from the wall and thrust his maids to the wall.
- Greg. The quarrel is between our masters and us their men.
- Samp. 'Tis all one. I will show myself a tyrant. When I have fought
- with the men, I will be cruel with the maids- I will cut off
- their heads.
- Greg. The heads of the maids?
- Samp. Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maidenheads.
- Take it in what sense thou wilt.
- Greg. They must take it in sense that feel it.
- Samp. Me they shall feel while I am able to stand; and 'tis known I
- am a pretty piece of flesh.
- Greg. 'Tis well thou art not fish; if thou hadst, thou hadst been
- poor-John. Draw thy tool! Here comes two of the house of
- Montagues.
-
- Enter two other Servingmen [Abram and Balthasar].
-
- Samp. My naked weapon is out. Quarrel! I will back thee.
- Greg. How? turn thy back and run?
- Samp. Fear me not.
- Greg. No, marry. I fear thee!
- Samp. Let us take the law of our sides; let them begin.
- Greg. I will frown as I pass by, and let them take it as they list.
- Samp. Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb at them; which is
- disgrace to them, if they bear it.
- Abr. Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?
- Samp. I do bite my thumb, sir.
- Abr. Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?
- Samp. [aside to Gregory] Is the law of our side if I say ay?
- Greg. [aside to Sampson] No.
- Samp. No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir; but I bite my
- thumb, sir.
- Greg. Do you quarrel, sir?
- Abr. Quarrel, sir? No, sir.
- Samp. But if you do, sir, am for you. I serve as good a man as you.
- Abr. No better.
- Samp. Well, sir.
-
- Enter Benvolio.
-
- Greg. [aside to Sampson] Say 'better.' Here comes one of my
- master's kinsmen.
- Samp. Yes, better, sir.
- Abr. You lie.
- Samp. Draw, if you be men. Gregory, remember thy swashing blow.
- They fight.
- Ben. Part, fools! [Beats down their swords.]
- Put up your swords. You know not what you do.
-
- Enter Tybalt.
-
- Tyb. What, art thou drawn among these heartless hinds?
- Turn thee Benvolio! look upon thy death.
- Ben. I do but keep the peace. Put up thy sword,
- Or manage it to part these men with me.
- Tyb. What, drawn, and talk of peace? I hate the word
- As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee.
- Have at thee, coward! They fight.
-
- Enter an officer, and three or four Citizens with clubs or
- partisans.
-
- Officer. Clubs, bills, and partisans! Strike! beat them down!
- Citizens. Down with the Capulets! Down with the Montagues!
-
- Enter Old Capulet in his gown, and his Wife.
-
- Cap. What noise is this? Give me my long sword, ho!
- Wife. A crutch, a crutch! Why call you for a sword?
- Cap. My sword, I say! Old Montague is come
- And flourishes his blade in spite of me.
-
- Enter Old Montague and his Wife.
-
- Mon. Thou villain Capulet!- Hold me not, let me go.
- M. Wife. Thou shalt not stir one foot to seek a foe.
-
- Enter Prince Escalus, with his Train.
-
- Prince. Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace,
- Profaners of this neighbour-stained steel-
- Will they not hear? What, ho! you men, you beasts,
- That quench the fire of your pernicious rage
- With purple fountains issuing from your veins!
- On pain of torture, from those bloody hands
- Throw your mistempered weapons to the ground
- And hear the sentence of your moved prince.
- Three civil brawls, bred of an airy word
- By thee, old Capulet, and Montague,
- Have thrice disturb'd the quiet of our streets
- And made Verona's ancient citizens
- Cast by their grave beseeming ornaments
- To wield old partisans, in hands as old,
- Cank'red with peace, to part your cank'red hate.
- If ever you disturb our streets again,
- Your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace.
- For this time all the rest depart away.
- You, Capulet, shall go along with me;
- And, Montague, come you this afternoon,
- To know our farther pleasure in this case,
- To old Freetown, our common judgment place.
- Once more, on pain of death, all men depart.
- Exeunt [all but Montague, his Wife, and Benvolio].
- Mon. Who set this ancient quarrel new abroach?
- Speak, nephew, were you by when it began?
- Ben. Here were the servants of your adversary
- And yours, close fighting ere I did approach.
- I drew to part them. In the instant came
- The fiery Tybalt, with his sword prepar'd;
- Which, as he breath'd defiance to my ears,
- He swung about his head and cut the winds,
- Who, nothing hurt withal, hiss'd him in scorn.
- While we were interchanging thrusts and blows,
- Came more and more, and fought on part and part,
- Till the Prince came, who parted either part.
- M. Wife. O, where is Romeo? Saw you him to-day?
- Right glad I am he was not at this fray.
- Ben. Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd sun
- Peer'd forth the golden window of the East,
- A troubled mind drave me to walk abroad;
- Where, underneath the grove of sycamore
- That westward rooteth from the city's side,
- So early walking did I see your son.
- Towards him I made; but he was ware of me
- And stole into the covert of the wood.
- I- measuring his affections by my own,
- Which then most sought where most might not be found,
- Being one too many by my weary self-
- Pursu'd my humour, not Pursuing his,
- And gladly shunn'd who gladly fled from me.
- Mon. Many a morning hath he there been seen,
- With tears augmenting the fresh morning's dew,
- Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs;
- But all so soon as the all-cheering sun
- Should in the farthest East bean to draw
- The shady curtains from Aurora's bed,
- Away from light steals home my heavy son
- And private in his chamber pens himself,
- Shuts up his windows, locks fair daylight
- And makes himself an artificial night.
- Black and portentous must this humour prove
- Unless good counsel may the cause remove.
- Ben. My noble uncle, do you know the cause?
- Mon. I neither know it nor can learn of him
- Ben. Have you importun'd him by any means?
- Mon. Both by myself and many other friend;
- But he, his own affections' counsellor,
- Is to himself- I will not say how true-
- But to himself so secret and so close,
- So far from sounding and discovery,
- As is the bud bit with an envious worm
- Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air
- Or dedicate his beauty to the sun.
- Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow,
- We would as willingly give cure as know.
-
- Enter Romeo.
-
- Ben. See, where he comes. So please you step aside,
- I'll know his grievance, or be much denied.
- Mon. I would thou wert so happy by thy stay
- To hear true shrift. Come, madam, let's away,
- Exeunt [Montague and Wife].
- Ben. Good morrow, cousin.
- Rom. Is the day so young?
- Ben. But new struck nine.
- Rom. Ay me! sad hours seem long.
- Was that my father that went hence so fast?
- Ben. It was. What sadness lengthens Romeo's hours?
- Rom. Not having that which having makes them short.
- Ben. In love?
- Rom. Out-
- Ben. Of love?
- Rom. Out of her favour where I am in love.
- Ben. Alas that love, so gentle in his view,
- Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof!
- Rom. Alas that love, whose view is muffled still,
- Should without eyes see pathways to his will!
- Where shall we dine? O me! What fray was here?
- Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all.
- Here's much to do with hate, but more with love.
- Why then, O brawling love! O loving hate!
- O anything, of nothing first create!
- O heavy lightness! serious vanity!
- Misshapen chaos of well-seeming forms!
- Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health!
- Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is
- This love feel I, that feel no love in this.
- Dost thou not laugh?
- Ben. No, coz, I rather weep.
- Rom. Good heart, at what?
- Ben. At thy good heart's oppression.
- Rom. Why, such is love's transgression.
- Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast,
- Which thou wilt propagate, to have it prest
- With more of thine. This love that thou hast shown
- Doth add more grief to too much of mine own.
- Love is a smoke rais'd with the fume of sighs;
- Being purg'd, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes;
- Being vex'd, a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears.
- What is it else? A madness most discreet,
- A choking gall, and a preserving sweet.
- Farewell, my coz.
- Ben. Soft! I will go along.
- An if you leave me so, you do me wrong.
- Rom. Tut! I have lost myself; I am not here:
- This is not Romeo, he's some other where.
- Ben. Tell me in sadness, who is that you love?
- Rom. What, shall I groan and tell thee?
- Ben. Groan? Why, no;
- But sadly tell me who.
- Rom. Bid a sick man in sadness make his will.
- Ah, word ill urg'd to one that is so ill!
- In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman.
- Ben. I aim'd so near when I suppos'd you lov'd.
- Rom. A right good markman! And she's fair I love.
- Ben. A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit.
- Rom. Well, in that hit you miss. She'll not be hit
- With Cupid's arrow. She hath Dian's wit,
- And, in strong proof of chastity well arm'd,
- From Love's weak childish bow she lives unharm'd.
- She will not stay the siege of loving terms,
- Nor bide th' encounter of assailing eyes,
- Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold.
- O, she's rich in beauty; only poor
- That, when she dies, with beauty dies her store.
- Ben. Then she hath sworn that she will still live chaste?
- Rom. She hath, and in that sparing makes huge waste;
- For beauty, starv'd with her severity,
- Cuts beauty off from all posterity.
- She is too fair, too wise, wisely too fair,
- To merit bliss by making me despair.
- She hath forsworn to love, and in that vow
- Do I live dead that live to tell it now.
- Ben. Be rul'd by me: forget to think of her.
- Rom. O, teach me how I should forget to think!
- Ben. By giving liberty unto thine eyes.
- Examine other beauties.
- Rom. 'Tis the way
- To call hers (exquisite) in question more.
- These happy masks that kiss fair ladies' brows,
- Being black puts us in mind they hide the fair.
- He that is strucken blind cannot forget
- The precious treasure of his eyesight lost.
- Show me a mistress that is passing fair,
- What doth her beauty serve but as a note
- Where I may read who pass'd that passing fair?
- Farewell. Thou canst not teach me to forget.
- Ben. I'll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt. Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-Scene II.
-A Street.
-
-Enter Capulet, County Paris, and [Servant] -the Clown.
-
- Cap. But Montague is bound as well as I,
- In penalty alike; and 'tis not hard, I think,
- For men so old as we to keep the peace.
- Par. Of honourable reckoning are you both,
- And pity 'tis you liv'd at odds so long.
- But now, my lord, what say you to my suit?
- Cap. But saying o'er what I have said before:
- My child is yet a stranger in the world,
- She hath not seen the change of fourteen years;
- Let two more summers wither in their pride
- Ere we may think her ripe to be a bride.
- Par. Younger than she are happy mothers made.
- Cap. And too soon marr'd are those so early made.
- The earth hath swallowed all my hopes but she;
- She is the hopeful lady of my earth.
- But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart;
- My will to her consent is but a part.
- An she agree, within her scope of choice
- Lies my consent and fair according voice.
- This night I hold an old accustom'd feast,
- Whereto I have invited many a guest,
- Such as I love; and you among the store,
- One more, most welcome, makes my number more.
- At my poor house look to behold this night
- Earth-treading stars that make dark heaven light.
- Such comfort as do lusty young men feel
- When well apparell'd April on the heel
- Of limping Winter treads, even such delight
- Among fresh female buds shall you this night
- Inherit at my house. Hear all, all see,
- And like her most whose merit most shall be;
- Which, on more view of many, mine, being one,
- May stand in number, though in reck'ning none.
- Come, go with me. [To Servant, giving him a paper] Go, sirrah,
- trudge about
- Through fair Verona; find those persons out
- Whose names are written there, and to them say,
- My house and welcome on their pleasure stay-
- Exeunt [Capulet and Paris].
- Serv. Find them out whose names are written here? It is written
- that the shoemaker should meddle with his yard and the tailor
- with his last, the fisher with his pencil and the painter with
- his nets; but I am sent to find those persons whose names are
- here writ, and can never find what names the writing person hath
- here writ. I must to the learned. In good time!
-
- Enter Benvolio and Romeo.
-
- Ben. Tut, man, one fire burns out another's burning;
- One pain is lessoned by another's anguish;
- Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning;
- One desperate grief cures with another's languish.
- Take thou some new infection to thy eye,
- And the rank poison of the old will die.
- Rom. Your plantain leaf is excellent for that.
- Ben. For what, I pray thee?
- Rom. For your broken shin.
- Ben. Why, Romeo, art thou mad?
- Rom. Not mad, but bound more than a madman is;
- Shut up in Prison, kept without my food,
- Whipp'd and tormented and- God-den, good fellow.
- Serv. God gi' go-den. I pray, sir, can you read?
- Rom. Ay, mine own fortune in my misery.
- Serv. Perhaps you have learned it without book. But I pray, can you
- read anything you see?
- Rom. Ay, If I know the letters and the language.
- Serv. Ye say honestly. Rest you merry!
- Rom. Stay, fellow; I can read. He reads.
-
- 'Signior Martino and his wife and daughters;
- County Anselmo and his beauteous sisters;
- The lady widow of Vitruvio;
- Signior Placentio and His lovely nieces;
- Mercutio and his brother Valentine;
- Mine uncle Capulet, his wife, and daughters;
- My fair niece Rosaline and Livia;
- Signior Valentio and His cousin Tybalt;
- Lucio and the lively Helena.'
-
- [Gives back the paper.] A fair assembly. Whither should they come?
- Serv. Up.
- Rom. Whither?
- Serv. To supper, to our house.
- Rom. Whose house?
- Serv. My master's.
- Rom. Indeed I should have ask'd you that before.
- Serv. Now I'll tell you without asking. My master is the great rich
- Capulet; and if you be not of the house of Montagues, I pray come
- and crush a cup of wine. Rest you merry! Exit.
- Ben. At this same ancient feast of Capulet's
- Sups the fair Rosaline whom thou so lov'st;
- With all the admired beauties of Verona.
- Go thither, and with unattainted eye
- Compare her face with some that I shall show,
- And I will make thee think thy swan a crow.
- Rom. When the devout religion of mine eye
- Maintains such falsehood, then turn tears to fires;
- And these, who, often drown'd, could never die,
- Transparent heretics, be burnt for liars!
- One fairer than my love? The all-seeing sun
- Ne'er saw her match since first the world begun.
- Ben. Tut! you saw her fair, none else being by,
- Herself pois'd with herself in either eye;
- But in that crystal scales let there be weigh'd
- Your lady's love against some other maid
- That I will show you shining at this feast,
- And she shall scant show well that now seems best.
- Rom. I'll go along, no such sight to be shown,
- But to rejoice in splendour of my own. [Exeunt.]
-
-
-
-
-Scene III.
-Capulet's house.
-
-Enter Capulet's Wife, and Nurse.
-
- Wife. Nurse, where's my daughter? Call her forth to me.
- Nurse. Now, by my maidenhead at twelve year old,
- I bade her come. What, lamb! what ladybird!
- God forbid! Where's this girl? What, Juliet!
-
- Enter Juliet.
-
- Jul. How now? Who calls?
- Nurse. Your mother.
- Jul. Madam, I am here.
- What is your will?
- Wife. This is the matter- Nurse, give leave awhile,
- We must talk in secret. Nurse, come back again;
- I have rememb'red me, thou's hear our counsel.
- Thou knowest my daughter's of a pretty age.
- Nurse. Faith, I can tell her age unto an hour.
- Wife. She's not fourteen.
- Nurse. I'll lay fourteen of my teeth-
- And yet, to my teen be it spoken, I have but four-
- She is not fourteen. How long is it now
- To Lammastide?
- Wife. A fortnight and odd days.
- Nurse. Even or odd, of all days in the year,
- Come Lammas Eve at night shall she be fourteen.
- Susan and she (God rest all Christian souls!)
- Were of an age. Well, Susan is with God;
- She was too good for me. But, as I said,
- On Lammas Eve at night shall she be fourteen;
- That shall she, marry; I remember it well.
- 'Tis since the earthquake now eleven years;
- And she was wean'd (I never shall forget it),
- Of all the days of the year, upon that day;
- For I had then laid wormwood to my dug,
- Sitting in the sun under the dovehouse wall.
- My lord and you were then at Mantua.
- Nay, I do bear a brain. But, as I said,
- When it did taste the wormwood on the nipple
- Of my dug and felt it bitter, pretty fool,
- To see it tetchy and fall out with the dug!
- Shake, quoth the dovehouse! 'Twas no need, I trow,
- To bid me trudge.
- And since that time it is eleven years,
- For then she could stand high-lone; nay, by th' rood,
- She could have run and waddled all about;
- For even the day before, she broke her brow;
- And then my husband (God be with his soul!
- 'A was a merry man) took up the child.
- 'Yea,' quoth he, 'dost thou fall upon thy face?
- Thou wilt fall backward when thou hast more wit;
- Wilt thou not, Jule?' and, by my holidam,
- The pretty wretch left crying, and said 'Ay.'
- To see now how a jest shall come about!
- I warrant, an I should live a thousand yeas,
- I never should forget it. 'Wilt thou not, Jule?' quoth he,
- And, pretty fool, it stinted, and said 'Ay.'
- Wife. Enough of this. I pray thee hold thy peace.
- Nurse. Yes, madam. Yet I cannot choose but laugh
- To think it should leave crying and say 'Ay.'
- And yet, I warrant, it bad upon it brow
- A bump as big as a young cock'rel's stone;
- A perilous knock; and it cried bitterly.
- 'Yea,' quoth my husband, 'fall'st upon thy face?
- Thou wilt fall backward when thou comest to age;
- Wilt thou not, Jule?' It stinted, and said 'Ay.'
- Jul. And stint thou too, I pray thee, nurse, say I.
- Nurse. Peace, I have done. God mark thee to his grace!
- Thou wast the prettiest babe that e'er I nurs'd.
- An I might live to see thee married once, I have my wish.
- Wife. Marry, that 'marry' is the very theme
- I came to talk of. Tell me, daughter Juliet,
- How stands your disposition to be married?
- Jul. It is an honour that I dream not of.
- Nurse. An honour? Were not I thine only nurse,
- I would say thou hadst suck'd wisdom from thy teat.
- Wife. Well, think of marriage now. Younger than you,
- Here in Verona, ladies of esteem,
- Are made already mothers. By my count,
- I was your mother much upon these years
- That you are now a maid. Thus then in brief:
- The valiant Paris seeks you for his love.
- Nurse. A man, young lady! lady, such a man
- As all the world- why he's a man of wax.
- Wife. Verona's summer hath not such a flower.
- Nurse. Nay, he's a flower, in faith- a very flower.
- Wife. What say you? Can you love the gentleman?
- This night you shall behold him at our feast.
- Read o'er the volume of young Paris' face,
- And find delight writ there with beauty's pen;
- Examine every married lineament,
- And see how one another lends content;
- And what obscur'd in this fair volume lies
- Find written in the margent of his eyes,
- This precious book of love, this unbound lover,
- To beautify him only lacks a cover.
- The fish lives in the sea, and 'tis much pride
- For fair without the fair within to hide.
- That book in many's eyes doth share the glory,
- That in gold clasps locks in the golden story;
- So shall you share all that he doth possess,
- By having him making yourself no less.
- Nurse. No less? Nay, bigger! Women grow by men
- Wife. Speak briefly, can you like of Paris' love?
- Jul. I'll look to like, if looking liking move;
- But no more deep will I endart mine eye
- Than your consent gives strength to make it fly.
-
- Enter Servingman.
-
- Serv. Madam, the guests are come, supper serv'd up, you call'd, my
- young lady ask'd for, the nurse curs'd in the pantry, and
- everything in extremity. I must hence to wait. I beseech you
- follow straight.
- Wife. We follow thee. Exit [Servingman].
- Juliet, the County stays.
- Nurse. Go, girl, seek happy nights to happy days.
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-Scene IV.
-A street.
-
-Enter Romeo, Mercutio, Benvolio, with five or six other Maskers; Torchbearers.
-
- Rom. What, shall this speech be spoke for our excuse?
- Or shall we on without apology?
- Ben. The date is out of such prolixity.
- We'll have no Cupid hoodwink'd with a scarf,
- Bearing a Tartar's painted bow of lath,
- Scaring the ladies like a crowkeeper;
- Nor no without-book prologue, faintly spoke
- After the prompter, for our entrance;
- But, let them measure us by what they will,
- We'll measure them a measure, and be gone.
- Rom. Give me a torch. I am not for this ambling.
- Being but heavy, I will bear the light.
- Mer. Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance.
- Rom. Not I, believe me. You have dancing shoes
- With nimble soles; I have a soul of lead
- So stakes me to the ground I cannot move.
- Mer. You are a lover. Borrow Cupid's wings
- And soar with them above a common bound.
- Rom. I am too sore enpierced with his shaft
- To soar with his light feathers; and so bound
- I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe.
- Under love's heavy burthen do I sink.
- Mer. And, to sink in it, should you burthen love-
- Too great oppression for a tender thing.
- Rom. Is love a tender thing? It is too rough,
- Too rude, too boist'rous, and it pricks like thorn.
- Mer. If love be rough with you, be rough with love.
- Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down.
- Give me a case to put my visage in.
- A visor for a visor! What care I
- What curious eye doth quote deformities?
- Here are the beetle brows shall blush for me.
- Ben. Come, knock and enter; and no sooner in
- But every man betake him to his legs.
- Rom. A torch for me! Let wantons light of heart
- Tickle the senseless rushes with their heels;
- For I am proverb'd with a grandsire phrase,
- I'll be a candle-holder and look on;
- The game was ne'er so fair, and I am done.
- Mer. Tut! dun's the mouse, the constable's own word!
- If thou art Dun, we'll draw thee from the mire
- Of this sir-reverence love, wherein thou stick'st
- Up to the ears. Come, we burn daylight, ho!
- Rom. Nay, that's not so.
- Mer. I mean, sir, in delay
- We waste our lights in vain, like lamps by day.
- Take our good meaning, for our judgment sits
- Five times in that ere once in our five wits.
- Rom. And we mean well, in going to this masque;
- But 'tis no wit to go.
- Mer. Why, may one ask?
- Rom. I dreamt a dream to-night.
- Mer. And so did I.
- Rom. Well, what was yours?
- Mer. That dreamers often lie.
- Rom. In bed asleep, while they do dream things true.
- Mer. O, then I see Queen Mab hath been with you.
- She is the fairies' midwife, and she comes
- In shape no bigger than an agate stone
- On the forefinger of an alderman,
- Drawn with a team of little atomies
- Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep;
- Her wagon spokes made of long spinners' legs,
- The cover, of the wings of grasshoppers;
- Her traces, of the smallest spider's web;
- Her collars, of the moonshine's wat'ry beams;
- Her whip, of cricket's bone; the lash, of film;
- Her wagoner, a small grey-coated gnat,
- Not half so big as a round little worm
- Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid;
- Her chariot is an empty hazelnut,
- Made by the joiner squirrel or old grub,
- Time out o' mind the fairies' coachmakers.
- And in this state she 'gallops night by night
- Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love;
- O'er courtiers' knees, that dream on cursies straight;
- O'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees;
- O'er ladies' lips, who straight on kisses dream,
- Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues,
- Because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are.
- Sometime she gallops o'er a courtier's nose,
- And then dreams he of smelling out a suit;
- And sometime comes she with a tithe-pig's tail
- Tickling a parson's nose as 'a lies asleep,
- Then dreams he of another benefice.
- Sometimes she driveth o'er a soldier's neck,
- And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats,
- Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades,
- Of healths five fadom deep; and then anon
- Drums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes,
- And being thus frighted, swears a prayer or two
- And sleeps again. This is that very Mab
- That plats the manes of horses in the night
- And bakes the elflocks in foul sluttish, hairs,
- Which once untangled much misfortune bodes
- This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs,
- That presses them and learns them first to bear,
- Making them women of good carriage.
- This is she-
- Rom. Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace!
- Thou talk'st of nothing.
- Mer. True, I talk of dreams;
- Which are the children of an idle brain,
- Begot of nothing but vain fantasy;
- Which is as thin of substance as the air,
- And more inconstant than the wind, who wooes
- Even now the frozen bosom of the North
- And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence,
- Turning his face to the dew-dropping South.
- Ben. This wind you talk of blows us from ourselves.
- Supper is done, and we shall come too late.
- Rom. I fear, too early; for my mind misgives
- Some consequence, yet hanging in the stars,
- Shall bitterly begin his fearful date
- With this night's revels and expire the term
- Of a despised life, clos'd in my breast,
- By some vile forfeit of untimely death.
- But he that hath the steerage of my course
- Direct my sail! On, lusty gentlemen!
- Ben. Strike, drum.
- They march about the stage. [Exeunt.]
-
-
-
-
-Scene V.
-Capulet's house.
-
-Servingmen come forth with napkins.
-
- 1. Serv. Where's Potpan, that he helps not to take away?
- He shift a trencher! he scrape a trencher!
- 2. Serv. When good manners shall lie all in one or two men's hands,
- and they unwash'd too, 'tis a foul thing.
- 1. Serv. Away with the join-stools, remove the court-cubbert, look
- to the plate. Good thou, save me a piece of marchpane and, as
- thou loves me, let the porter let in Susan Grindstone and Nell.
- Anthony, and Potpan!
- 2. Serv. Ay, boy, ready.
- 1. Serv. You are look'd for and call'd for, ask'd for and sought
- for, in the great chamber.
- 3. Serv. We cannot be here and there too. Cheerly, boys!
- Be brisk awhile, and the longer liver take all. Exeunt.
-
- Enter the Maskers, Enter, [with Servants,] Capulet, his Wife,
- Juliet, Tybalt, and all the Guests
- and Gentlewomen to the Maskers.
-
- Cap. Welcome, gentlemen! Ladies that have their toes
- Unplagu'd with corns will have a bout with you.
- Ah ha, my mistresses! which of you all
- Will now deny to dance? She that makes dainty,
- She I'll swear hath corns. Am I come near ye now?
- Welcome, gentlemen! I have seen the day
- That I have worn a visor and could tell
- A whispering tale in a fair lady's ear,
- Such as would please. 'Tis gone, 'tis gone, 'tis gone!
- You are welcome, gentlemen! Come, musicians, play.
- A hall, a hall! give room! and foot it, girls.
- Music plays, and they dance.
- More light, you knaves! and turn the tables up,
- And quench the fire, the room is grown too hot.
- Ah, sirrah, this unlook'd-for sport comes well.
- Nay, sit, nay, sit, good cousin Capulet,
- For you and I are past our dancing days.
- How long is't now since last yourself and I
- Were in a mask?
- 2. Cap. By'r Lady, thirty years.
- Cap. What, man? 'Tis not so much, 'tis not so much!
- 'Tis since the nuptial of Lucentio,
- Come Pentecost as quickly as it will,
- Some five-and-twenty years, and then we mask'd.
- 2. Cap. 'Tis more, 'tis more! His son is elder, sir;
- His son is thirty.
- Cap. Will you tell me that?
- His son was but a ward two years ago.
- Rom. [to a Servingman] What lady's that, which doth enrich the hand
- Of yonder knight?
- Serv. I know not, sir.
- Rom. O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!
- It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night
- Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear-
- Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear!
- So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows
- As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows.
- The measure done, I'll watch her place of stand
- And, touching hers, make blessed my rude hand.
- Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight!
- For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night.
- Tyb. This, by his voice, should be a Montague.
- Fetch me my rapier, boy. What, dares the slave
- Come hither, cover'd with an antic face,
- To fleer and scorn at our solemnity?
- Now, by the stock and honour of my kin,
- To strike him dead I hold it not a sin.
- Cap. Why, how now, kinsman? Wherefore storm you so?
- Tyb. Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe;
- A villain, that is hither come in spite
- To scorn at our solemnity this night.
- Cap. Young Romeo is it?
- Tyb. 'Tis he, that villain Romeo.
- Cap. Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone.
- 'A bears him like a portly gentleman,
- And, to say truth, Verona brags of him
- To be a virtuous and well-govern'd youth.
- I would not for the wealth of all this town
- Here in my house do him disparagement.
- Therefore be patient, take no note of him.
- It is my will; the which if thou respect,
- Show a fair presence and put off these frowns,
- An ill-beseeming semblance for a feast.
- Tyb. It fits when such a villain is a guest.
- I'll not endure him.
- Cap. He shall be endur'd.
- What, goodman boy? I say he shall. Go to!
- Am I the master here, or you? Go to!
- You'll not endure him? God shall mend my soul!
- You'll make a mutiny among my guests!
- You will set cock-a-hoop! you'll be the man!
- Tyb. Why, uncle, 'tis a shame.
- Cap. Go to, go to!
- You are a saucy boy. Is't so, indeed?
- This trick may chance to scathe you. I know what.
- You must contrary me! Marry, 'tis time.-
- Well said, my hearts!- You are a princox- go!
- Be quiet, or- More light, more light!- For shame!
- I'll make you quiet; what!- Cheerly, my hearts!
- Tyb. Patience perforce with wilful choler meeting
- Makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting.
- I will withdraw; but this intrusion shall,
- Now seeming sweet, convert to bitt'rest gall. Exit.
- Rom. If I profane with my unworthiest hand
- This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this:
- My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand
- To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.
- Jul. Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,
- Which mannerly devotion shows in this;
- For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch,
- And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss.
- Rom. Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?
- Jul. Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in pray'r.
- Rom. O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do!
- They pray; grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.
- Jul. Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake.
- Rom. Then move not while my prayer's effect I take.
- Thus from my lips, by thine my sin is purg'd. [Kisses her.]
- Jul. Then have my lips the sin that they have took.
- Rom. Sin from my lips? O trespass sweetly urg'd!
- Give me my sin again. [Kisses her.]
- Jul. You kiss by th' book.
- Nurse. Madam, your mother craves a word with you.
- Rom. What is her mother?
- Nurse. Marry, bachelor,
- Her mother is the lady of the house.
- And a good lady, and a wise and virtuous.
- I nurs'd her daughter that you talk'd withal.
- I tell you, he that can lay hold of her
- Shall have the chinks.
- Rom. Is she a Capulet?
- O dear account! my life is my foe's debt.
- Ben. Away, be gone; the sport is at the best.
- Rom. Ay, so I fear; the more is my unrest.
- Cap. Nay, gentlemen, prepare not to be gone;
- We have a trifling foolish banquet towards.
- Is it e'en so? Why then, I thank you all.
- I thank you, honest gentlemen. Good night.
- More torches here! [Exeunt Maskers.] Come on then, let's to bed.
- Ah, sirrah, by my fay, it waxes late;
- I'll to my rest.
- Exeunt [all but Juliet and Nurse].
- Jul. Come hither, nurse. What is yond gentleman?
- Nurse. The son and heir of old Tiberio.
- Jul. What's he that now is going out of door?
- Nurse. Marry, that, I think, be young Petruchio.
- Jul. What's he that follows there, that would not dance?
- Nurse. I know not.
- Jul. Go ask his name.- If he be married,
- My grave is like to be my wedding bed.
- Nurse. His name is Romeo, and a Montague,
- The only son of your great enemy.
- Jul. My only love, sprung from my only hate!
- Too early seen unknown, and known too late!
- Prodigious birth of love it is to me
- That I must love a loathed enemy.
- Nurse. What's this? what's this?
- Jul. A rhyme I learnt even now
- Of one I danc'd withal.
- One calls within, 'Juliet.'
- Nurse. Anon, anon!
- Come, let's away; the strangers all are gone. Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-PROLOGUE
-
-Enter Chorus.
-
- Chor. Now old desire doth in his deathbed lie,
- And young affection gapes to be his heir;
- That fair for which love groan'd for and would die,
- With tender Juliet match'd, is now not fair.
- Now Romeo is belov'd, and loves again,
- Alike bewitched by the charm of looks;
- But to his foe suppos'd he must complain,
- And she steal love's sweet bait from fearful hooks.
- Being held a foe, he may not have access
- To breathe such vows as lovers use to swear,
- And she as much in love, her means much less
- To meet her new beloved anywhere;
- But passion lends them power, time means, to meet,
- Temp'ring extremities with extreme sweet.
-Exit.
-
-
-
-
-ACT II. Scene I.
-A lane by the wall of Capulet's orchard.
-
-Enter Romeo alone.
-
- Rom. Can I go forward when my heart is here?
- Turn back, dull earth, and find thy centre out.
- [Climbs the wall and leaps down within it.]
-
- Enter Benvolio with Mercutio.
-
- Ben. Romeo! my cousin Romeo! Romeo!
- Mer. He is wise,
- And, on my life, hath stol'n him home to bed.
- Ben. He ran this way, and leapt this orchard wall.
- Call, good Mercutio.
- Mer. Nay, I'll conjure too.
- Romeo! humours! madman! passion! lover!
- Appear thou in the likeness of a sigh;
- Speak but one rhyme, and I am satisfied!
- Cry but 'Ay me!' pronounce but 'love' and 'dove';
- Speak to my gossip Venus one fair word,
- One nickname for her purblind son and heir,
- Young Adam Cupid, he that shot so trim
- When King Cophetua lov'd the beggar maid!
- He heareth not, he stirreth not, be moveth not;
- The ape is dead, and I must conjure him.
- I conjure thee by Rosaline's bright eyes.
- By her high forehead and her scarlet lip,
- By her fine foot, straight leg, and quivering thigh,
- And the demesnes that there adjacent lie,
- That in thy likeness thou appear to us!
- Ben. An if he hear thee, thou wilt anger him.
- Mer. This cannot anger him. 'Twould anger him
- To raise a spirit in his mistress' circle
- Of some strange nature, letting it there stand
- Till she had laid it and conjur'd it down.
- That were some spite; my invocation
- Is fair and honest: in his mistress' name,
- I conjure only but to raise up him.
- Ben. Come, he hath hid himself among these trees
- To be consorted with the humorous night.
- Blind is his love and best befits the dark.
- Mer. If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark.
- Now will he sit under a medlar tree
- And wish his mistress were that kind of fruit
- As maids call medlars when they laugh alone.
- O, Romeo, that she were, O that she were
- An open et cetera, thou a pop'rin pear!
- Romeo, good night. I'll to my truckle-bed;
- This field-bed is too cold for me to sleep.
- Come, shall we go?
- Ben. Go then, for 'tis in vain
- 'To seek him here that means not to be found.
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-Scene II.
-Capulet's orchard.
-
-Enter Romeo.
-
- Rom. He jests at scars that never felt a wound.
-
- Enter Juliet above at a window.
-
- But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?
- It is the East, and Juliet is the sun!
- Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,
- Who is already sick and pale with grief
- That thou her maid art far more fair than she.
- Be not her maid, since she is envious.
- Her vestal livery is but sick and green,
- And none but fools do wear it. Cast it off.
- It is my lady; O, it is my love!
- O that she knew she were!
- She speaks, yet she says nothing. What of that?
- Her eye discourses; I will answer it.
- I am too bold; 'tis not to me she speaks.
- Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,
- Having some business, do entreat her eyes
- To twinkle in their spheres till they return.
- What if her eyes were there, they in her head?
- The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars
- As daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven
- Would through the airy region stream so bright
- That birds would sing and think it were not night.
- See how she leans her cheek upon her hand!
- O that I were a glove upon that hand,
- That I might touch that cheek!
- Jul. Ay me!
- Rom. She speaks.
- O, speak again, bright angel! for thou art
- As glorious to this night, being o'er my head,
- As is a winged messenger of heaven
- Unto the white-upturned wond'ring eyes
- Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him
- When he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds
- And sails upon the bosom of the air.
- Jul. O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?
- Deny thy father and refuse thy name!
- Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,
- And I'll no longer be a Capulet.
- Rom. [aside] Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?
- Jul. 'Tis but thy name that is my enemy.
- Thou art thyself, though not a Montague.
- What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot,
- Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part
- Belonging to a man. O, be some other name!
- What's in a name? That which we call a rose
- By any other name would smell as sweet.
- So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd,
- Retain that dear perfection which he owes
- Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name;
- And for that name, which is no part of thee,
- Take all myself.
- Rom. I take thee at thy word.
- Call me but love, and I'll be new baptiz'd;
- Henceforth I never will be Romeo.
- Jul. What man art thou that, thus bescreen'd in night,
- So stumblest on my counsel?
- Rom. By a name
- I know not how to tell thee who I am.
- My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself,
- Because it is an enemy to thee.
- Had I it written, I would tear the word.
- Jul. My ears have yet not drunk a hundred words
- Of that tongue's utterance, yet I know the sound.
- Art thou not Romeo, and a Montague?
- Rom. Neither, fair saint, if either thee dislike.
- Jul. How cam'st thou hither, tell me, and wherefore?
- The orchard walls are high and hard to climb,
- And the place death, considering who thou art,
- If any of my kinsmen find thee here.
- Rom. With love's light wings did I o'erperch these walls;
- For stony limits cannot hold love out,
- And what love can do, that dares love attempt.
- Therefore thy kinsmen are no let to me.
- Jul. If they do see thee, they will murther thee.
- Rom. Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye
- Than twenty of their swords! Look thou but sweet,
- And I am proof against their enmity.
- Jul. I would not for the world they saw thee here.
- Rom. I have night's cloak to hide me from their sight;
- And but thou love me, let them find me here.
- My life were better ended by their hate
- Than death prorogued, wanting of thy love.
- Jul. By whose direction found'st thou out this place?
- Rom. By love, that first did prompt me to enquire.
- He lent me counsel, and I lent him eyes.
- I am no pilot; yet, wert thou as far
- As that vast shore wash'd with the farthest sea,
- I would adventure for such merchandise.
- Jul. Thou knowest the mask of night is on my face;
- Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek
- For that which thou hast heard me speak to-night.
- Fain would I dwell on form- fain, fain deny
- What I have spoke; but farewell compliment!
- Dost thou love me, I know thou wilt say 'Ay';
- And I will take thy word. Yet, if thou swear'st,
- Thou mayst prove false. At lovers' perjuries,
- They say Jove laughs. O gentle Romeo,
- If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully.
- Or if thou thinkest I am too quickly won,
- I'll frown, and be perverse, and say thee nay,
- So thou wilt woo; but else, not for the world.
- In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond,
- And therefore thou mayst think my haviour light;
- But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true
- Than those that have more cunning to be strange.
- I should have been more strange, I must confess,
- But that thou overheard'st, ere I was ware,
- My true-love passion. Therefore pardon me,
- And not impute this yielding to light love,
- Which the dark night hath so discovered.
- Rom. Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear,
- That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops-
- Jul. O, swear not by the moon, th' inconstant moon,
- That monthly changes in her circled orb,
- Lest that thy love prove likewise variable.
- Rom. What shall I swear by?
- Jul. Do not swear at all;
- Or if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self,
- Which is the god of my idolatry,
- And I'll believe thee.
- Rom. If my heart's dear love-
- Jul. Well, do not swear. Although I joy in thee,
- I have no joy of this contract to-night.
- It is too rash, too unadvis'd, too sudden;
- Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be
- Ere one can say 'It lightens.' Sweet, good night!
- This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath,
- May prove a beauteous flow'r when next we meet.
- Good night, good night! As sweet repose and rest
- Come to thy heart as that within my breast!
- Rom. O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?
- Jul. What satisfaction canst thou have to-night?
- Rom. Th' exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine.
- Jul. I gave thee mine before thou didst request it;
- And yet I would it were to give again.
- Rom. Would'st thou withdraw it? For what purpose, love?
- Jul. But to be frank and give it thee again.
- And yet I wish but for the thing I have.
- My bounty is as boundless as the sea,
- My love as deep; the more I give to thee,
- The more I have, for both are infinite.
- I hear some noise within. Dear love, adieu!
- [Nurse] calls within.
- Anon, good nurse! Sweet Montague, be true.
- Stay but a little, I will come again. [Exit.]
- Rom. O blessed, blessed night! I am afeard,
- Being in night, all this is but a dream,
- Too flattering-sweet to be substantial.
-
- Enter Juliet above.
-
- Jul. Three words, dear Romeo, and good night indeed.
- If that thy bent of love be honourable,
- Thy purpose marriage, send me word to-morrow,
- By one that I'll procure to come to thee,
- Where and what time thou wilt perform the rite;
- And all my fortunes at thy foot I'll lay
- And follow thee my lord throughout the world.
- Nurse. (within) Madam!
- Jul. I come, anon.- But if thou meanest not well,
- I do beseech thee-
- Nurse. (within) Madam!
- Jul. By-and-by I come.-
- To cease thy suit and leave me to my grief.
- To-morrow will I send.
- Rom. So thrive my soul-
- Jul. A thousand times good night! Exit.
- Rom. A thousand times the worse, to want thy light!
- Love goes toward love as schoolboys from their books;
- But love from love, towards school with heavy looks.
-
- Enter Juliet again, [above].
-
- Jul. Hist! Romeo, hist! O for a falconer's voice
- To lure this tassel-gentle back again!
- Bondage is hoarse and may not speak aloud;
- Else would I tear the cave where Echo lies,
- And make her airy tongue more hoarse than mine
- With repetition of my Romeo's name.
- Romeo!
- Rom. It is my soul that calls upon my name.
- How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night,
- Like softest music to attending ears!
- Jul. Romeo!
- Rom. My dear?
- Jul. At what o'clock to-morrow
- Shall I send to thee?
- Rom. By the hour of nine.
- Jul. I will not fail. 'Tis twenty years till then.
- I have forgot why I did call thee back.
- Rom. Let me stand here till thou remember it.
- Jul. I shall forget, to have thee still stand there,
- Rememb'ring how I love thy company.
- Rom. And I'll still stay, to have thee still forget,
- Forgetting any other home but this.
- Jul. 'Tis almost morning. I would have thee gone-
- And yet no farther than a wanton's bird,
- That lets it hop a little from her hand,
- Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves,
- And with a silk thread plucks it back again,
- So loving-jealous of his liberty.
- Rom. I would I were thy bird.
- Jul. Sweet, so would I.
- Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing.
- Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow,
- That I shall say good night till it be morrow.
- [Exit.]
- Rom. Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy breast!
- Would I were sleep and peace, so sweet to rest!
- Hence will I to my ghostly father's cell,
- His help to crave and my dear hap to tell.
- Exit
-
-
-
-
-Scene III.
-Friar Laurence's cell.
-
-Enter Friar, [Laurence] alone, with a basket.
-
- Friar. The grey-ey'd morn smiles on the frowning night,
- Check'ring the Eastern clouds with streaks of light;
- And flecked darkness like a drunkard reels
- From forth day's path and Titan's fiery wheels.
- Non, ere the sun advance his burning eye
- The day to cheer and night's dank dew to dry,
- I must up-fill this osier cage of ours
- With baleful weeds and precious-juiced flowers.
- The earth that's nature's mother is her tomb.
- What is her burying gave, that is her womb;
- And from her womb children of divers kind
- We sucking on her natural bosom find;
- Many for many virtues excellent,
- None but for some, and yet all different.
- O, mickle is the powerful grace that lies
- In plants, herbs, stones, and their true qualities;
- For naught so vile that on the earth doth live
- But to the earth some special good doth give;
- Nor aught so good but, strain'd from that fair use,
- Revolts from true birth, stumbling on abuse.
- Virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied,
- And vice sometime's by action dignified.
- Within the infant rind of this small flower
- Poison hath residence, and medicine power;
- For this, being smelt, with that part cheers each part;
- Being tasted, slays all senses with the heart.
- Two such opposed kings encamp them still
- In man as well as herbs- grace and rude will;
- And where the worser is predominant,
- Full soon the canker death eats up that plant.
-
- Enter Romeo.
-
- Rom. Good morrow, father.
- Friar. Benedicite!
- What early tongue so sweet saluteth me?
- Young son, it argues a distempered head
- So soon to bid good morrow to thy bed.
- Care keeps his watch in every old man's eye,
- And where care lodges sleep will never lie;
- But where unbruised youth with unstuff'd brain
- Doth couch his limbs, there golden sleep doth reign.
- Therefore thy earliness doth me assure
- Thou art uprous'd with some distemp'rature;
- Or if not so, then here I hit it right-
- Our Romeo hath not been in bed to-night.
- Rom. That last is true-the sweeter rest was mine.
- Friar. God pardon sin! Wast thou with Rosaline?
- Rom. With Rosaline, my ghostly father? No.
- I have forgot that name, and that name's woe.
- Friar. That's my good son! But where hast thou been then?
- Rom. I'll tell thee ere thou ask it me again.
- I have been feasting with mine enemy,
- Where on a sudden one hath wounded me
- That's by me wounded. Both our remedies
- Within thy help and holy physic lies.
- I bear no hatred, blessed man, for, lo,
- My intercession likewise steads my foe.
- Friar. Be plain, good son, and homely in thy drift
- Riddling confession finds but riddling shrift.
- Rom. Then plainly know my heart's dear love is set
- On the fair daughter of rich Capulet;
- As mine on hers, so hers is set on mine,
- And all combin'd, save what thou must combine
- By holy marriage. When, and where, and how
- We met, we woo'd, and made exchange of vow,
- I'll tell thee as we pass; but this I pray,
- That thou consent to marry us to-day.
- Friar. Holy Saint Francis! What a change is here!
- Is Rosaline, that thou didst love so dear,
- So soon forsaken? Young men's love then lies
- Not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes.
- Jesu Maria! What a deal of brine
- Hath wash'd thy sallow cheeks for Rosaline!
- How much salt water thrown away in waste,
- To season love, that of it doth not taste!
- The sun not yet thy sighs from heaven clears,
- Thy old groans ring yet in mine ancient ears.
- Lo, here upon thy cheek the stain doth sit
- Of an old tear that is not wash'd off yet.
- If e'er thou wast thyself, and these woes thine,
- Thou and these woes were all for Rosaline.
- And art thou chang'd? Pronounce this sentence then:
- Women may fall when there's no strength in men.
- Rom. Thou chid'st me oft for loving Rosaline.
- Friar. For doting, not for loving, pupil mine.
- Rom. And bad'st me bury love.
- Friar. Not in a grave
- To lay one in, another out to have.
- Rom. I pray thee chide not. She whom I love now
- Doth grace for grace and love for love allow.
- The other did not so.
- Friar. O, she knew well
- Thy love did read by rote, that could not spell.
- But come, young waverer, come go with me.
- In one respect I'll thy assistant be;
- For this alliance may so happy prove
- To turn your households' rancour to pure love.
- Rom. O, let us hence! I stand on sudden haste.
- Friar. Wisely, and slow. They stumble that run fast.
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-Scene IV.
-A street.
-
-Enter Benvolio and Mercutio.
-
- Mer. Where the devil should this Romeo be?
- Came he not home to-night?
- Ben. Not to his father's. I spoke with his man.
- Mer. Why, that same pale hard-hearted wench, that Rosaline,
- Torments him so that he will sure run mad.
- Ben. Tybalt, the kinsman to old Capulet,
- Hath sent a letter to his father's house.
- Mer. A challenge, on my life.
- Ben. Romeo will answer it.
- Mer. Any man that can write may answer a letter.
- Ben. Nay, he will answer the letter's master, how he dares, being
- dared.
- Mer. Alas, poor Romeo, he is already dead! stabb'd with a white
- wench's black eye; shot through the ear with a love song; the
- very pin of his heart cleft with the blind bow-boy's butt-shaft;
- and is he a man to encounter Tybalt?
- Ben. Why, what is Tybalt?
- Mer. More than Prince of Cats, I can tell you. O, he's the
- courageous captain of compliments. He fights as you sing
- pricksong-keeps time, distance, and proportion; rests me his
- minim rest, one, two, and the third in your bosom! the very
- butcher of a silk button, a duellist, a duellist! a gentleman of
- the very first house, of the first and second cause. Ah, the
- immortal passado! the punto reverse! the hay.
- Ben. The what?
- Mer. The pox of such antic, lisping, affecting fantasticoes- these
- new tuners of accent! 'By Jesu, a very good blade! a very tall
- man! a very good whore!' Why, is not this a lamentable thing,
- grandsir, that we should be thus afflicted with these strange
- flies, these fashion-mongers, these pardona-mi's, who stand so
- much on the new form that they cannot sit at ease on the old
- bench? O, their bones, their bones!
-
- Enter Romeo.
-
- Ben. Here comes Romeo! here comes Romeo!
- Mer. Without his roe, like a dried herring. O flesh, flesh, how art
- thou fishified! Now is he for the numbers that Petrarch flowed
- in. Laura, to his lady, was but a kitchen wench (marry, she had a
- better love to berhyme her), Dido a dowdy, Cleopatra a gypsy,
- Helen and Hero hildings and harlots, This be a gray eye or so,
- but not to the purpose. Signior Romeo, bon jour! There's a French
- salutation to your French slop. You gave us the counterfeit
- fairly last night.
- Rom. Good morrow to you both. What counterfeit did I give you?
- Mer. The slip, sir, the slip. Can you not conceive?
- Rom. Pardon, good Mercutio. My business was great, and in such a
- case as mine a man may strain courtesy.
- Mer. That's as much as to say, such a case as yours constrains a
- man to bow in the hams.
- Rom. Meaning, to cursy.
- Mer. Thou hast most kindly hit it.
- Rom. A most courteous exposition.
- Mer. Nay, I am the very pink of courtesy.
- Rom. Pink for flower.
- Mer. Right.
- Rom. Why, then is my pump well-flower'd.
- Mer. Well said! Follow me this jest now till thou hast worn out thy
- pump, that, when the single sole of it is worn, the jest may
- remain, after the wearing, solely singular.
- Rom. O single-sold jest, solely singular for the singleness!
- Mer. Come between us, good Benvolio! My wits faint.
- Rom. Swits and spurs, swits and spurs! or I'll cry a match.
- Mer. Nay, if our wits run the wild-goose chase, I am done; for thou
- hast more of the wild goose in one of thy wits than, I am sure, I
- have in my whole five. Was I with you there for the goose?
- Rom. Thou wast never with me for anything when thou wast not there
- for the goose.
- Mer. I will bite thee by the ear for that jest.
- Rom. Nay, good goose, bite not!
- Mer. Thy wit is a very bitter sweeting; it is a most sharp sauce.
- Rom. And is it not, then, well serv'd in to a sweet goose?
- Mer. O, here's a wit of cheveril, that stretches from an inch
- narrow to an ell broad!
- Rom. I stretch it out for that word 'broad,' which, added to the
- goose, proves thee far and wide a broad goose.
- Mer. Why, is not this better now than groaning for love? Now art
- thou sociable, now art thou Romeo; now art thou what thou art, by
- art as well as by nature. For this drivelling love is like a
- great natural that runs lolling up and down to hide his bauble in
- a hole.
- Ben. Stop there, stop there!
- Mer. Thou desirest me to stop in my tale against the hair.
- Ben. Thou wouldst else have made thy tale large.
- Mer. O, thou art deceiv'd! I would have made it short; for I was
- come to the whole depth of my tale, and meant indeed to occupy
- the argument no longer.
- Rom. Here's goodly gear!
-
- Enter Nurse and her Man [Peter].
-
- Mer. A sail, a sail!
- Ben. Two, two! a shirt and a smock.
- Nurse. Peter!
- Peter. Anon.
- Nurse. My fan, Peter.
- Mer. Good Peter, to hide her face; for her fan's the fairer face of
- the two.
- Nurse. God ye good morrow, gentlemen.
- Mer. God ye good-den, fair gentlewoman.
- Nurse. Is it good-den?
- Mer. 'Tis no less, I tell ye; for the bawdy hand of the dial is now
- upon the prick of noon.
- Nurse. Out upon you! What a man are you!
- Rom. One, gentlewoman, that God hath made for himself to mar.
- Nurse. By my troth, it is well said. 'For himself to mar,' quoth
- 'a? Gentlemen, can any of you tell me where I may find the young
- Romeo?
- Rom. I can tell you; but young Romeo will be older when you have
- found him than he was when you sought him. I am the youngest of
- that name, for fault of a worse.
- Nurse. You say well.
- Mer. Yea, is the worst well? Very well took, i' faith! wisely,
- wisely.
- Nurse. If you be he, sir, I desire some confidence with you.
- Ben. She will endite him to some supper.
- Mer. A bawd, a bawd, a bawd! So ho!
- Rom. What hast thou found?
- Mer. No hare, sir; unless a hare, sir, in a lenten pie, that is
- something stale and hoar ere it be spent
- He walks by them and sings.
-
- An old hare hoar,
- And an old hare hoar,
- Is very good meat in Lent;
- But a hare that is hoar
- Is too much for a score
- When it hoars ere it be spent.
-
- Romeo, will you come to your father's? We'll to dinner thither.
- Rom. I will follow you.
- Mer. Farewell, ancient lady. Farewell,
- [sings] lady, lady, lady.
- Exeunt Mercutio, Benvolio.
- Nurse. Marry, farewell! I Pray you, Sir, what saucy merchant was
- this that was so full of his ropery?
- Rom. A gentleman, nurse, that loves to hear himself talk and will
- speak more in a minute than he will stand to in a month.
- Nurse. An 'a speak anything against me, I'll take him down, an 'a
- were lustier than he is, and twenty such jacks; and if I cannot,
- I'll find those that shall. Scurvy knave! I am none of his
- flirt-gills; I am none of his skains-mates. And thou must stand
- by too, and suffer every knave to use me at his pleasure!
- Peter. I saw no man use you at his pleasure. If I had, my weapon
- should quickly have been out, I warrant you. I dare draw as soon
- as another man, if I see occasion in a good quarrel, and the law
- on my side.
- Nurse. Now, afore God, I am so vexed that every part about me
- quivers. Scurvy knave! Pray you, sir, a word; and, as I told you,
- my young lady bid me enquire you out. What she bid me say, I will
- keep to myself; but first let me tell ye, if ye should lead her
- into a fool's paradise, as they say, it were a very gross kind of
- behaviour, as they say; for the gentlewoman is young; and
- therefore, if you should deal double with her, truly it were an
- ill thing to be off'red to any gentlewoman, and very weak dealing.
- Rom. Nurse, commend me to thy lady and mistress. I protest unto
- thee-
- Nurse. Good heart, and I faith I will tell her as much. Lord,
- Lord! she will be a joyful woman.
- Rom. What wilt thou tell her, nurse? Thou dost not mark me.
- Nurse. I will tell her, sir, that you do protest, which, as I take
- it, is a gentlemanlike offer.
- Rom. Bid her devise
- Some means to come to shrift this afternoon;
- And there she shall at Friar Laurence' cell
- Be shriv'd and married. Here is for thy pains.
- Nurse. No, truly, sir; not a penny.
- Rom. Go to! I say you shall.
- Nurse. This afternoon, sir? Well, she shall be there.
- Rom. And stay, good nurse, behind the abbey wall.
- Within this hour my man shall be with thee
- And bring thee cords made like a tackled stair,
- Which to the high topgallant of my joy
- Must be my convoy in the secret night.
- Farewell. Be trusty, and I'll quit thy pains.
- Farewell. Commend me to thy mistress.
- Nurse. Now God in heaven bless thee! Hark you, sir.
- Rom. What say'st thou, my dear nurse?
- Nurse. Is your man secret? Did you ne'er hear say,
- Two may keep counsel, putting one away?
- Rom. I warrant thee my man's as true as steel.
- Nurse. Well, sir, my mistress is the sweetest lady. Lord, Lord!
- when 'twas a little prating thing- O, there is a nobleman in
- town, one Paris, that would fain lay knife aboard; but she, good
- soul, had as lieve see a toad, a very toad, as see him. I anger
- her sometimes, and tell her that Paris is the properer man; but
- I'll warrant you, when I say so, she looks as pale as any clout
- in the versal world. Doth not rosemary and Romeo begin both with
- a letter?
- Rom. Ay, nurse; what of that? Both with an R.
- Nurse. Ah, mocker! that's the dog's name. R is for the- No; I know
- it begins with some other letter; and she hath the prettiest
- sententious of it, of you and rosemary, that it would do you good
- to hear it.
- Rom. Commend me to thy lady.
- Nurse. Ay, a thousand times. [Exit Romeo.] Peter!
- Peter. Anon.
- Nurse. Peter, take my fan, and go before, and apace.
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-Scene V.
-Capulet's orchard.
-
-Enter Juliet.
-
- Jul. The clock struck nine when I did send the nurse;
- In half an hour she 'promis'd to return.
- Perchance she cannot meet him. That's not so.
- O, she is lame! Love's heralds should be thoughts,
- Which ten times faster glide than the sun's beams
- Driving back shadows over low'ring hills.
- Therefore do nimble-pinion'd doves draw Love,
- And therefore hath the wind-swift Cupid wings.
- Now is the sun upon the highmost hill
- Of this day's journey, and from nine till twelve
- Is three long hours; yet she is not come.
- Had she affections and warm youthful blood,
- She would be as swift in motion as a ball;
- My words would bandy her to my sweet love,
- And his to me,
- But old folks, many feign as they were dead-
- Unwieldy, slow, heavy and pale as lead.
-
- Enter Nurse [and Peter].
-
- O God, she comes! O honey nurse, what news?
- Hast thou met with him? Send thy man away.
- Nurse. Peter, stay at the gate.
- [Exit Peter.]
- Jul. Now, good sweet nurse- O Lord, why look'st thou sad?
- Though news be sad, yet tell them merrily;
- If good, thou shamest the music of sweet news
- By playing it to me with so sour a face.
- Nurse. I am aweary, give me leave awhile.
- Fie, how my bones ache! What a jaunce have I had!
- Jul. I would thou hadst my bones, and I thy news.
- Nay, come, I pray thee speak. Good, good nurse, speak.
- Nurse. Jesu, what haste! Can you not stay awhile?
- Do you not see that I am out of breath?
- Jul. How art thou out of breath when thou hast breath
- To say to me that thou art out of breath?
- The excuse that thou dost make in this delay
- Is longer than the tale thou dost excuse.
- Is thy news good or bad? Answer to that.
- Say either, and I'll stay the circumstance.
- Let me be satisfied, is't good or bad?
- Nurse. Well, you have made a simple choice; you know not how to
- choose a man. Romeo? No, not he. Though his face be better than
- any man's, yet his leg excels all men's; and for a hand and a
- foot, and a body, though they be not to be talk'd on, yet they
- are past compare. He is not the flower of courtesy, but, I'll
- warrant him, as gentle as a lamb. Go thy ways, wench; serve God.
- What, have you din'd at home?
- Jul. No, no. But all this did I know before.
- What says he of our marriage? What of that?
- Nurse. Lord, how my head aches! What a head have I!
- It beats as it would fall in twenty pieces.
- My back o' t' other side,- ah, my back, my back!
- Beshrew your heart for sending me about
- To catch my death with jauncing up and down!
- Jul. I' faith, I am sorry that thou art not well.
- Sweet, sweet, Sweet nurse, tell me, what says my love?
- Nurse. Your love says, like an honest gentleman, and a courteous,
- and a kind, and a handsome; and, I warrant, a virtuous- Where is
- your mother?
- Jul. Where is my mother? Why, she is within.
- Where should she be? How oddly thou repliest!
- 'Your love says, like an honest gentleman,
- "Where is your mother?"'
- Nurse. O God's Lady dear!
- Are you so hot? Marry come up, I trow.
- Is this the poultice for my aching bones?
- Henceforward do your messages yourself.
- Jul. Here's such a coil! Come, what says Romeo?
- Nurse. Have you got leave to go to shrift to-day?
- Jul. I have.
- Nurse. Then hie you hence to Friar Laurence' cell;
- There stays a husband to make you a wife.
- Now comes the wanton blood up in your cheeks:
- They'll be in scarlet straight at any news.
- Hie you to church; I must another way,
- To fetch a ladder, by the which your love
- Must climb a bird's nest soon when it is dark.
- I am the drudge, and toil in your delight;
- But you shall bear the burthen soon at night.
- Go; I'll to dinner; hie you to the cell.
- Jul. Hie to high fortune! Honest nurse, farewell.
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-Scene VI.
-Friar Laurence's cell.
-
-Enter Friar [Laurence] and Romeo.
-
- Friar. So smile the heavens upon this holy act
- That after-hours with sorrow chide us not!
- Rom. Amen, amen! But come what sorrow can,
- It cannot countervail the exchange of joy
- That one short minute gives me in her sight.
- Do thou but close our hands with holy words,
- Then love-devouring death do what he dare-
- It is enough I may but call her mine.
- Friar. These violent delights have violent ends
- And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,
- Which, as they kiss, consume. The sweetest honey
- Is loathsome in his own deliciousness
- And in the taste confounds the appetite.
- Therefore love moderately: long love doth so;
- Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.
-
- Enter Juliet.
-
- Here comes the lady. O, so light a foot
- Will ne'er wear out the everlasting flint.
- A lover may bestride the gossamer
- That idles in the wanton summer air,
- And yet not fall; so light is vanity.
- Jul. Good even to my ghostly confessor.
- Friar. Romeo shall thank thee, daughter, for us both.
- Jul. As much to him, else is his thanks too much.
- Rom. Ah, Juliet, if the measure of thy joy
- Be heap'd like mine, and that thy skill be more
- To blazon it, then sweeten with thy breath
- This neighbour air, and let rich music's tongue
- Unfold the imagin'd happiness that both
- Receive in either by this dear encounter.
- Jul. Conceit, more rich in matter than in words,
- Brags of his substance, not of ornament.
- They are but beggars that can count their worth;
- But my true love is grown to such excess
- cannot sum up sum of half my wealth.
- Friar. Come, come with me, and we will make short work;
- For, by your leaves, you shall not stay alone
- Till Holy Church incorporate two in one.
- [Exeunt.]
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT III. Scene I.
-A public place.
-
-Enter Mercutio, Benvolio, and Men.
-
- Ben. I pray thee, good Mercutio, let's retire.
- The day is hot, the Capulets abroad.
- And if we meet, we shall not scape a brawl,
- For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring.
- Mer. Thou art like one of these fellows that, when he enters the
- confines of a tavern, claps me his sword upon the table and says
- 'God send me no need of thee!' and by the operation of the second
- cup draws him on the drawer, when indeed there is no need.
- Ben. Am I like such a fellow?
- Mer. Come, come, thou art as hot a jack in thy mood as any in
- Italy; and as soon moved to be moody, and as soon moody to be
- moved.
- Ben. And what to?
- Mer. Nay, an there were two such, we should have none shortly, for
- one would kill the other. Thou! why, thou wilt quarrel with a man
- that hath a hair more or a hair less in his beard than thou hast.
- Thou wilt quarrel with a man for cracking nuts, having no other
- reason but because thou hast hazel eyes. What eye but such an eye
- would spy out such a quarrel? Thy head is as full of quarrels as
- an egg is full of meat; and yet thy head hath been beaten as
- addle as an egg for quarrelling. Thou hast quarrell'd with a man
- for coughing in the street, because he hath wakened thy dog that
- hath lain asleep in the sun. Didst thou not fall out with a
- tailor for wearing his new doublet before Easter, with another
- for tying his new shoes with an old riband? And yet thou wilt
- tutor me from quarrelling!
- Ben. An I were so apt to quarrel as thou art, any man should buy
- the fee simple of my life for an hour and a quarter.
- Mer. The fee simple? O simple!
-
- Enter Tybalt and others.
-
- Ben. By my head, here come the Capulets.
- Mer. By my heel, I care not.
- Tyb. Follow me close, for I will speak to them.
- Gentlemen, good den. A word with one of you.
- Mer. And but one word with one of us?
- Couple it with something; make it a word and a blow.
- Tyb. You shall find me apt enough to that, sir, an you will give me
- occasion.
- Mer. Could you not take some occasion without giving
- Tyb. Mercutio, thou consortest with Romeo.
- Mer. Consort? What, dost thou make us minstrels? An thou make
- minstrels of us, look to hear nothing but discords. Here's my
- fiddlestick; here's that shall make you dance. Zounds, consort!
- Ben. We talk here in the public haunt of men.
- Either withdraw unto some private place
- And reason coldly of your grievances,
- Or else depart. Here all eyes gaze on us.
- Mer. Men's eyes were made to look, and let them gaze.
- I will not budge for no man's pleasure,
-
- Enter Romeo.
-
- Tyb. Well, peace be with you, sir. Here comes my man.
- Mer. But I'll be hang'd, sir, if he wear your livery.
- Marry, go before to field, he'll be your follower!
- Your worship in that sense may call him man.
- Tyb. Romeo, the love I bear thee can afford
- No better term than this: thou art a villain.
- Rom. Tybalt, the reason that I have to love thee
- Doth much excuse the appertaining rage
- To such a greeting. Villain am I none.
- Therefore farewell. I see thou knowest me not.
- Tyb. Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries
- That thou hast done me; therefore turn and draw.
- Rom. I do protest I never injur'd thee,
- But love thee better than thou canst devise
- Till thou shalt know the reason of my love;
- And so good Capulet, which name I tender
- As dearly as mine own, be satisfied.
- Mer. O calm, dishonourable, vile submission!
- Alla stoccata carries it away. [Draws.]
- Tybalt, you ratcatcher, will you walk?
- Tyb. What wouldst thou have with me?
- Mer. Good King of Cats, nothing but one of your nine lives. That I
- mean to make bold withal, and, as you shall use me hereafter,
- dry-beat the rest of the eight. Will you pluck your sword out of
- his pitcher by the ears? Make haste, lest mine be about your ears
- ere it be out.
- Tyb. I am for you. [Draws.]
- Rom. Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up.
- Mer. Come, sir, your passado!
- [They fight.]
- Rom. Draw, Benvolio; beat down their weapons.
- Gentlemen, for shame! forbear this outrage!
- Tybalt, Mercutio, the Prince expressly hath
- Forbid this bandying in Verona streets.
- Hold, Tybalt! Good Mercutio!
- Tybalt under Romeo's arm thrusts Mercutio in, and flies
- [with his Followers].
- Mer. I am hurt.
- A plague o' both your houses! I am sped.
- Is he gone and hath nothing?
- Ben. What, art thou hurt?
- Mer. Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch. Marry, 'tis enough.
- Where is my page? Go, villain, fetch a surgeon.
- [Exit Page.]
- Rom. Courage, man. The hurt cannot be much.
- Mer. No, 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church door;
- but 'tis enough, 'twill serve. Ask for me to-morrow, and you
- shall find me a grave man. I am peppered, I warrant, for this
- world. A plague o' both your houses! Zounds, a dog, a rat, a
- mouse, a cat, to scratch a man to death! a braggart, a rogue, a
- villain, that fights by the book of arithmetic! Why the devil
- came you between us? I was hurt under your arm.
- Rom. I thought all for the best.
- Mer. Help me into some house, Benvolio,
- Or I shall faint. A plague o' both your houses!
- They have made worms' meat of me. I have it,
- And soundly too. Your houses!
- [Exit. [supported by Benvolio].
- Rom. This gentleman, the Prince's near ally,
- My very friend, hath got this mortal hurt
- In my behalf- my reputation stain'd
- With Tybalt's slander- Tybalt, that an hour
- Hath been my kinsman. O sweet Juliet,
- Thy beauty hath made me effeminate
- And in my temper soft'ned valour's steel
-
- Enter Benvolio.
-
- Ben. O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio's dead!
- That gallant spirit hath aspir'd the clouds,
- Which too untimely here did scorn the earth.
- Rom. This day's black fate on moe days doth depend;
- This but begins the woe others must end.
-
- Enter Tybalt.
-
- Ben. Here comes the furious Tybalt back again.
- Rom. Alive in triumph, and Mercutio slain?
- Away to heaven respective lenity,
- And fire-ey'd fury be my conduct now!
- Now, Tybalt, take the 'villain' back again
- That late thou gavest me; for Mercutio's soul
- Is but a little way above our heads,
- Staying for thine to keep him company.
- Either thou or I, or both, must go with him.
- Tyb. Thou, wretched boy, that didst consort him here,
- Shalt with him hence.
- Rom. This shall determine that.
- They fight. Tybalt falls.
- Ben. Romeo, away, be gone!
- The citizens are up, and Tybalt slain.
- Stand not amaz'd. The Prince will doom thee death
- If thou art taken. Hence, be gone, away!
- Rom. O, I am fortune's fool!
- Ben. Why dost thou stay?
- Exit Romeo.
- Enter Citizens.
-
- Citizen. Which way ran he that kill'd Mercutio?
- Tybalt, that murtherer, which way ran he?
- Ben. There lies that Tybalt.
- Citizen. Up, sir, go with me.
- I charge thee in the Prince's name obey.
-
- Enter Prince [attended], Old Montague, Capulet, their Wives,
- and [others].
-
- Prince. Where are the vile beginners of this fray?
- Ben. O noble Prince. I can discover all
- The unlucky manage of this fatal brawl.
- There lies the man, slain by young Romeo,
- That slew thy kinsman, brave Mercutio.
- Cap. Wife. Tybalt, my cousin! O my brother's child!
- O Prince! O husband! O, the blood is spill'd
- Of my dear kinsman! Prince, as thou art true,
- For blood of ours shed blood of Montague.
- O cousin, cousin!
- Prince. Benvolio, who began this bloody fray?
- Ben. Tybalt, here slain, whom Romeo's hand did stay.
- Romeo, that spoke him fair, bid him bethink
- How nice the quarrel was, and urg'd withal
- Your high displeasure. All this- uttered
- With gentle breath, calm look, knees humbly bow'd-
- Could not take truce with the unruly spleen
- Of Tybalt deaf to peace, but that he tilts
- With piercing steel at bold Mercutio's breast;
- Who, all as hot, turns deadly point to point,
- And, with a martial scorn, with one hand beats
- Cold death aside and with the other sends
- It back to Tybalt, whose dexterity
- Retorts it. Romeo he cries aloud,
- 'Hold, friends! friends, part!' and swifter than his tongue,
- His agile arm beats down their fatal points,
- And 'twixt them rushes; underneath whose arm
- An envious thrust from Tybalt hit the life
- Of stout Mercutio, and then Tybalt fled;
- But by-and-by comes back to Romeo,
- Who had but newly entertain'd revenge,
- And to't they go like lightning; for, ere I
- Could draw to part them, was stout Tybalt slain;
- And, as he fell, did Romeo turn and fly.
- This is the truth, or let Benvolio die.
- Cap. Wife. He is a kinsman to the Montague;
- Affection makes him false, he speaks not true.
- Some twenty of them fought in this black strife,
- And all those twenty could but kill one life.
- I beg for justice, which thou, Prince, must give.
- Romeo slew Tybalt; Romeo must not live.
- Prince. Romeo slew him; he slew Mercutio.
- Who now the price of his dear blood doth owe?
- Mon. Not Romeo, Prince; he was Mercutio's friend;
- His fault concludes but what the law should end,
- The life of Tybalt.
- Prince. And for that offence
- Immediately we do exile him hence.
- I have an interest in your hate's proceeding,
- My blood for your rude brawls doth lie a-bleeding;
- But I'll amerce you with so strong a fine
- That you shall all repent the loss of mine.
- I will be deaf to pleading and excuses;
- Nor tears nor prayers shall purchase out abuses.
- Therefore use none. Let Romeo hence in haste,
- Else, when he is found, that hour is his last.
- Bear hence this body, and attend our will.
- Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill.
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-Scene II.
-Capulet's orchard.
-
-Enter Juliet alone.
-
- Jul. Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds,
- Towards Phoebus' lodging! Such a wagoner
- As Phaeton would whip you to the West
- And bring in cloudy night immediately.
- Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night,
- That runaway eyes may wink, and Romeo
- Leap to these arms untalk'd of and unseen.
- Lovers can see to do their amorous rites
- By their own beauties; or, if love be blind,
- It best agrees with night. Come, civil night,
- Thou sober-suited matron, all in black,
- And learn me how to lose a winning match,
- Play'd for a pair of stainless maidenhoods.
- Hood my unmann'd blood, bating in my cheeks,
- With thy black mantle till strange love, grown bold,
- Think true love acted simple modesty.
- Come, night; come, Romeo; come, thou day in night;
- For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night
- Whiter than new snow upon a raven's back.
- Come, gentle night; come, loving, black-brow'd night;
- Give me my Romeo; and, when he shall die,
- Take him and cut him out in little stars,
- And he will make the face of heaven so fine
- That all the world will be in love with night
- And pay no worship to the garish sun.
- O, I have bought the mansion of a love,
- But not possess'd it; and though I am sold,
- Not yet enjoy'd. So tedious is this day
- As is the night before some festival
- To an impatient child that hath new robes
- And may not wear them. O, here comes my nurse,
-
- Enter Nurse, with cords.
-
- And she brings news; and every tongue that speaks
- But Romeo's name speaks heavenly eloquence.
- Now, nurse, what news? What hast thou there? the cords
- That Romeo bid thee fetch?
- Nurse. Ay, ay, the cords.
- [Throws them down.]
- Jul. Ay me! what news? Why dost thou wring thy hands
- Nurse. Ah, weraday! he's dead, he's dead, he's dead!
- We are undone, lady, we are undone!
- Alack the day! he's gone, he's kill'd, he's dead!
- Jul. Can heaven be so envious?
- Nurse. Romeo can,
- Though heaven cannot. O Romeo, Romeo!
- Who ever would have thought it? Romeo!
- Jul. What devil art thou that dost torment me thus?
- This torture should be roar'd in dismal hell.
- Hath Romeo slain himself? Say thou but 'I,'
- And that bare vowel 'I' shall poison more
- Than the death-darting eye of cockatrice.
- I am not I, if there be such an 'I';
- Or those eyes shut that make thee answer 'I.'
- If be be slain, say 'I'; or if not, 'no.'
- Brief sounds determine of my weal or woe.
- Nurse. I saw the wound, I saw it with mine eyes,
- (God save the mark!) here on his manly breast.
- A piteous corse, a bloody piteous corse;
- Pale, pale as ashes, all bedaub'd in blood,
- All in gore-blood. I swounded at the sight.
- Jul. O, break, my heart! poor bankrout, break at once!
- To prison, eyes; ne'er look on liberty!
- Vile earth, to earth resign; end motion here,
- And thou and Romeo press one heavy bier!
- Nurse. O Tybalt, Tybalt, the best friend I had!
- O courteous Tybalt! honest gentleman
- That ever I should live to see thee dead!
- Jul. What storm is this that blows so contrary?
- Is Romeo slaught'red, and is Tybalt dead?
- My dear-lov'd cousin, and my dearer lord?
- Then, dreadful trumpet, sound the general doom!
- For who is living, if those two are gone?
- Nurse. Tybalt is gone, and Romeo banished;
- Romeo that kill'd him, he is banished.
- Jul. O God! Did Romeo's hand shed Tybalt's blood?
- Nurse. It did, it did! alas the day, it did!
- Jul. O serpent heart, hid with a flow'ring face!
- Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave?
- Beautiful tyrant! fiend angelical!
- Dove-feather'd raven! wolvish-ravening lamb!
- Despised substance of divinest show!
- Just opposite to what thou justly seem'st-
- A damned saint, an honourable villain!
- O nature, what hadst thou to do in hell
- When thou didst bower the spirit of a fiend
- In mortal paradise of such sweet flesh?
- Was ever book containing such vile matter
- So fairly bound? O, that deceit should dwell
- In such a gorgeous palace!
- Nurse. There's no trust,
- No faith, no honesty in men; all perjur'd,
- All forsworn, all naught, all dissemblers.
- Ah, where's my man? Give me some aqua vitae.
- These griefs, these woes, these sorrows make me old.
- Shame come to Romeo!
- Jul. Blister'd be thy tongue
- For such a wish! He was not born to shame.
- Upon his brow shame is asham'd to sit;
- For 'tis a throne where honour may be crown'd
- Sole monarch of the universal earth.
- O, what a beast was I to chide at him!
- Nurse. Will you speak well of him that kill'd your cousin?
- Jul. Shall I speak ill of him that is my husband?
- Ah, poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy name
- When I, thy three-hours wife, have mangled it?
- But wherefore, villain, didst thou kill my cousin?
- That villain cousin would have kill'd my husband.
- Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring!
- Your tributary drops belong to woe,
- Which you, mistaking, offer up to joy.
- My husband lives, that Tybalt would have slain;
- And Tybalt's dead, that would have slain my husband.
- All this is comfort; wherefore weep I then?
- Some word there was, worser than Tybalt's death,
- That murd'red me. I would forget it fain;
- But O, it presses to my memory
- Like damned guilty deeds to sinners' minds!
- 'Tybalt is dead, and Romeo- banished.'
- That 'banished,' that one word 'banished,'
- Hath slain ten thousand Tybalts. Tybalt's death
- Was woe enough, if it had ended there;
- Or, if sour woe delights in fellowship
- And needly will be rank'd with other griefs,
- Why followed not, when she said 'Tybalt's dead,'
- Thy father, or thy mother, nay, or both,
- Which modern lamentation might have mov'd?
- But with a rearward following Tybalt's death,
- 'Romeo is banished'- to speak that word
- Is father, mother, Tybalt, Romeo, Juliet,
- All slain, all dead. 'Romeo is banished'-
- There is no end, no limit, measure, bound,
- In that word's death; no words can that woe sound.
- Where is my father and my mother, nurse?
- Nurse. Weeping and wailing over Tybalt's corse.
- Will you go to them? I will bring you thither.
- Jul. Wash they his wounds with tears? Mine shall be spent,
- When theirs are dry, for Romeo's banishment.
- Take up those cords. Poor ropes, you are beguil'd,
- Both you and I, for Romeo is exil'd.
- He made you for a highway to my bed;
- But I, a maid, die maiden-widowed.
- Come, cords; come, nurse. I'll to my wedding bed;
- And death, not Romeo, take my maidenhead!
- Nurse. Hie to your chamber. I'll find Romeo
- To comfort you. I wot well where he is.
- Hark ye, your Romeo will be here at night.
- I'll to him; he is hid at Laurence' cell.
- Jul. O, find him! give this ring to my true knight
- And bid him come to take his last farewell.
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-Scene III.
-Friar Laurence's cell.
-
-Enter Friar [Laurence].
-
- Friar. Romeo, come forth; come forth, thou fearful man.
- Affliction is enanmour'd of thy parts,
- And thou art wedded to calamity.
-
- Enter Romeo.
-
- Rom. Father, what news? What is the Prince's doom
- What sorrow craves acquaintance at my hand
- That I yet know not?
- Friar. Too familiar
- Is my dear son with such sour company.
- I bring thee tidings of the Prince's doom.
- Rom. What less than doomsday is the Prince's doom?
- Friar. A gentler judgment vanish'd from his lips-
- Not body's death, but body's banishment.
- Rom. Ha, banishment? Be merciful, say 'death';
- For exile hath more terror in his look,
- Much more than death. Do not say 'banishment.'
- Friar. Hence from Verona art thou banished.
- Be patient, for the world is broad and wide.
- Rom. There is no world without Verona walls,
- But purgatory, torture, hell itself.
- Hence banished is banish'd from the world,
- And world's exile is death. Then 'banishment'
- Is death misterm'd. Calling death 'banishment,'
- Thou cut'st my head off with a golden axe
- And smilest upon the stroke that murders me.
- Friar. O deadly sin! O rude unthankfulness!
- Thy fault our law calls death; but the kind Prince,
- Taking thy part, hath rush'd aside the law,
- And turn'd that black word death to banishment.
- This is dear mercy, and thou seest it not.
- Rom. 'Tis torture, and not mercy. Heaven is here,
- Where Juliet lives; and every cat and dog
- And little mouse, every unworthy thing,
- Live here in heaven and may look on her;
- But Romeo may not. More validity,
- More honourable state, more courtship lives
- In carrion flies than Romeo. They may seize
- On the white wonder of dear Juliet's hand
- And steal immortal blessing from her lips,
- Who, even in pure and vestal modesty,
- Still blush, as thinking their own kisses sin;
- But Romeo may not- he is banished.
- This may flies do, when I from this must fly;
- They are free men, but I am banished.
- And sayest thou yet that exile is not death?
- Hadst thou no poison mix'd, no sharp-ground knife,
- No sudden mean of death, though ne'er so mean,
- But 'banished' to kill me- 'banished'?
- O friar, the damned use that word in hell;
- Howling attends it! How hast thou the heart,
- Being a divine, a ghostly confessor,
- A sin-absolver, and my friend profess'd,
- To mangle me with that word 'banished'?
- Friar. Thou fond mad man, hear me a little speak.
- Rom. O, thou wilt speak again of banishment.
- Friar. I'll give thee armour to keep off that word;
- Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy,
- To comfort thee, though thou art banished.
- Rom. Yet 'banished'? Hang up philosophy!
- Unless philosophy can make a Juliet,
- Displant a town, reverse a prince's doom,
- It helps not, it prevails not. Talk no more.
- Friar. O, then I see that madmen have no ears.
- Rom. How should they, when that wise men have no eyes?
- Friar. Let me dispute with thee of thy estate.
- Rom. Thou canst not speak of that thou dost not feel.
- Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love,
- An hour but married, Tybalt murdered,
- Doting like me, and like me banished,
- Then mightst thou speak, then mightst thou tear thy hair,
- And fall upon the ground, as I do now,
- Taking the measure of an unmade grave.
- Knock [within].
- Friar. Arise; one knocks. Good Romeo, hide thyself.
- Rom. Not I; unless the breath of heartsick groans,
- Mist-like infold me from the search of eyes. Knock.
- Friar. Hark, how they knock! Who's there? Romeo, arise;
- Thou wilt be taken.- Stay awhile!- Stand up; Knock.
- Run to my study.- By-and-by!- God's will,
- What simpleness is this.- I come, I come! Knock.
- Who knocks so hard? Whence come you? What's your will
- Nurse. [within] Let me come in, and you shall know my errand.
- I come from Lady Juliet.
- Friar. Welcome then.
-
- Enter Nurse.
-
- Nurse. O holy friar, O, tell me, holy friar
- Where is my lady's lord, where's Romeo?
- Friar. There on the ground, with his own tears made drunk.
- Nurse. O, he is even in my mistress' case,
- Just in her case!
- Friar. O woeful sympathy!
- Piteous predicament!
- Nurse. Even so lies she,
- Blubb'ring and weeping, weeping and blubbering.
- Stand up, stand up! Stand, an you be a man.
- For Juliet's sake, for her sake, rise and stand!
- Why should you fall into so deep an O?
- Rom. (rises) Nurse-
- Nurse. Ah sir! ah sir! Well, death's the end of all.
- Rom. Spakest thou of Juliet? How is it with her?
- Doth not she think me an old murtherer,
- Now I have stain'd the childhood of our joy
- With blood remov'd but little from her own?
- Where is she? and how doth she! and what says
- My conceal'd lady to our cancell'd love?
- Nurse. O, she says nothing, sir, but weeps and weeps;
- And now falls on her bed, and then starts up,
- And Tybalt calls; and then on Romeo cries,
- And then down falls again.
- Rom. As if that name,
- Shot from the deadly level of a gun,
- Did murther her; as that name's cursed hand
- Murder'd her kinsman. O, tell me, friar, tell me,
- In what vile part of this anatomy
- Doth my name lodge? Tell me, that I may sack
- The hateful mansion. [Draws his dagger.]
- Friar. Hold thy desperate hand.
- Art thou a man? Thy form cries out thou art;
- Thy tears are womanish, thy wild acts denote
- The unreasonable fury of a beast.
- Unseemly woman in a seeming man!
- Or ill-beseeming beast in seeming both!
- Thou hast amaz'd me. By my holy order,
- I thought thy disposition better temper'd.
- Hast thou slain Tybalt? Wilt thou slay thyself?
- And slay thy lady that in thy life lives,
- By doing damned hate upon thyself?
- Why railest thou on thy birth, the heaven, and earth?
- Since birth and heaven and earth, all three do meet
- In thee at once; which thou at once wouldst lose.
- Fie, fie, thou shamest thy shape, thy love, thy wit,
- Which, like a usurer, abound'st in all,
- And usest none in that true use indeed
- Which should bedeck thy shape, thy love, thy wit.
- Thy noble shape is but a form of wax
- Digressing from the valour of a man;
- Thy dear love sworn but hollow perjury,
- Killing that love which thou hast vow'd to cherish;
- Thy wit, that ornament to shape and love,
- Misshapen in the conduct of them both,
- Like powder in a skilless soldier's flask,
- is get afire by thine own ignorance,
- And thou dismemb'red with thine own defence.
- What, rouse thee, man! Thy Juliet is alive,
- For whose dear sake thou wast but lately dead.
- There art thou happy. Tybalt would kill thee,
- But thou slewest Tybalt. There art thou happy too.
- The law, that threat'ned death, becomes thy friend
- And turns it to exile. There art thou happy.
- A pack of blessings light upon thy back;
- Happiness courts thee in her best array;
- But, like a misbhav'd and sullen wench,
- Thou pout'st upon thy fortune and thy love.
- Take heed, take heed, for such die miserable.
- Go get thee to thy love, as was decreed,
- Ascend her chamber, hence and comfort her.
- But look thou stay not till the watch be set,
- For then thou canst not pass to Mantua,
- Where thou shalt live till we can find a time
- To blaze your marriage, reconcile your friends,
- Beg pardon of the Prince, and call thee back
- With twenty hundred thousand times more joy
- Than thou went'st forth in lamentation.
- Go before, nurse. Commend me to thy lady,
- And bid her hasten all the house to bed,
- Which heavy sorrow makes them apt unto.
- Romeo is coming.
- Nurse. O Lord, I could have stay'd here all the night
- To hear good counsel. O, what learning is!
- My lord, I'll tell my lady you will come.
- Rom. Do so, and bid my sweet prepare to chide.
- Nurse. Here is a ring she bid me give you, sir.
- Hie you, make haste, for it grows very late. Exit.
- Rom. How well my comfort is reviv'd by this!
- Friar. Go hence; good night; and here stands all your state:
- Either be gone before the watch be set,
- Or by the break of day disguis'd from hence.
- Sojourn in Mantua. I'll find out your man,
- And he shall signify from time to time
- Every good hap to you that chances here.
- Give me thy hand. 'Tis late. Farewell; good night.
- Rom. But that a joy past joy calls out on me,
- It were a grief so brief to part with thee.
- Farewell.
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-Scene IV.
-Capulet's house
-
-Enter Old Capulet, his Wife, and Paris.
-
- Cap. Things have fall'n out, sir, so unluckily
- That we have had no time to move our daughter.
- Look you, she lov'd her kinsman Tybalt dearly,
- And so did I. Well, we were born to die.
- 'Tis very late; she'll not come down to-night.
- I promise you, but for your company,
- I would have been abed an hour ago.
- Par. These times of woe afford no tune to woo.
- Madam, good night. Commend me to your daughter.
- Lady. I will, and know her mind early to-morrow;
- To-night she's mew'd up to her heaviness.
- Cap. Sir Paris, I will make a desperate tender
- Of my child's love. I think she will be rul'd
- In all respects by me; nay more, I doubt it not.
- Wife, go you to her ere you go to bed;
- Acquaint her here of my son Paris' love
- And bid her (mark you me?) on Wednesday next-
- But, soft! what day is this?
- Par. Monday, my lord.
- Cap. Monday! ha, ha! Well, Wednesday is too soon.
- Thursday let it be- a Thursday, tell her
- She shall be married to this noble earl.
- Will you be ready? Do you like this haste?
- We'll keep no great ado- a friend or two;
- For hark you, Tybalt being slain so late,
- It may be thought we held him carelessly,
- Being our kinsman, if we revel much.
- Therefore we'll have some half a dozen friends,
- And there an end. But what say you to Thursday?
- Par. My lord, I would that Thursday were to-morrow.
- Cap. Well, get you gone. A Thursday be it then.
- Go you to Juliet ere you go to bed;
- Prepare her, wife, against this wedding day.
- Farewell, My lord.- Light to my chamber, ho!
- Afore me, It is so very very late
- That we may call it early by-and-by.
- Good night.
- Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-Scene V.
-Capulet's orchard.
-
-Enter Romeo and Juliet aloft, at the Window.
-
- Jul. Wilt thou be gone? It is not yet near day.
- It was the nightingale, and not the lark,
- That pierc'd the fearful hollow of thine ear.
- Nightly she sings on yond pomegranate tree.
- Believe me, love, it was the nightingale.
- Rom. It was the lark, the herald of the morn;
- No nightingale. Look, love, what envious streaks
- Do lace the severing clouds in yonder East.
- Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day
- Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops.
- I must be gone and live, or stay and die.
- Jul. Yond light is not daylight; I know it, I.
- It is some meteor that the sun exhales
- To be to thee this night a torchbearer
- And light thee on the way to Mantua.
- Therefore stay yet; thou need'st not to be gone.
- Rom. Let me be ta'en, let me be put to death.
- I am content, so thou wilt have it so.
- I'll say yon grey is not the morning's eye,
- 'Tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow;
- Nor that is not the lark whose notes do beat
- The vaulty heaven so high above our heads.
- I have more care to stay than will to go.
- Come, death, and welcome! Juliet wills it so.
- How is't, my soul? Let's talk; it is not day.
- Jul. It is, it is! Hie hence, be gone, away!
- It is the lark that sings so out of tune,
- Straining harsh discords and unpleasing sharps.
- Some say the lark makes sweet division;
- This doth not so, for she divideth us.
- Some say the lark and loathed toad chang'd eyes;
- O, now I would they had chang'd voices too,
- Since arm from arm that voice doth us affray,
- Hunting thee hence with hunt's-up to the day!
- O, now be gone! More light and light it grows.
- Rom. More light and light- more dark and dark our woes!
-
- Enter Nurse.
-
- Nurse. Madam!
- Jul. Nurse?
- Nurse. Your lady mother is coming to your chamber.
- The day is broke; be wary, look about.
- Jul. Then, window, let day in, and let life out.
- [Exit.]
- Rom. Farewell, farewell! One kiss, and I'll descend.
- He goeth down.
- Jul. Art thou gone so, my lord, my love, my friend?
- I must hear from thee every day in the hour,
- For in a minute there are many days.
- O, by this count I shall be much in years
- Ere I again behold my Romeo!
- Rom. Farewell!
- I will omit no opportunity
- That may convey my greetings, love, to thee.
- Jul. O, think'st thou we shall ever meet again?
- Rom. I doubt it not; and all these woes shall serve
- For sweet discourses in our time to come.
- Jul. O God, I have an ill-divining soul!
- Methinks I see thee, now thou art below,
- As one dead in the bottom of a tomb.
- Either my eyesight fails, or thou look'st pale.
- Rom. And trust me, love, in my eye so do you.
- Dry sorrow drinks our blood. Adieu, adieu!
-Exit.
- Jul. O Fortune, Fortune! all men call thee fickle.
- If thou art fickle, what dost thou with him
- That is renown'd for faith? Be fickle, Fortune,
- For then I hope thou wilt not keep him long
- But send him back.
- Lady. [within] Ho, daughter! are you up?
- Jul. Who is't that calls? It is my lady mother.
- Is she not down so late, or up so early?
- What unaccustom'd cause procures her hither?
-
- Enter Mother.
-
- Lady. Why, how now, Juliet?
- Jul. Madam, I am not well.
- Lady. Evermore weeping for your cousin's death?
- What, wilt thou wash him from his grave with tears?
- An if thou couldst, thou couldst not make him live.
- Therefore have done. Some grief shows much of love;
- But much of grief shows still some want of wit.
- Jul. Yet let me weep for such a feeling loss.
- Lady. So shall you feel the loss, but not the friend
- Which you weep for.
- Jul. Feeling so the loss,
- I cannot choose but ever weep the friend.
- Lady. Well, girl, thou weep'st not so much for his death
- As that the villain lives which slaughter'd him.
- Jul. What villain, madam?
- Lady. That same villain Romeo.
- Jul. [aside] Villain and he be many miles asunder.-
- God pardon him! I do, with all my heart;
- And yet no man like he doth grieve my heart.
- Lady. That is because the traitor murderer lives.
- Jul. Ay, madam, from the reach of these my hands.
- Would none but I might venge my cousin's death!
- Lady. We will have vengeance for it, fear thou not.
- Then weep no more. I'll send to one in Mantua,
- Where that same banish'd runagate doth live,
- Shall give him such an unaccustom'd dram
- That he shall soon keep Tybalt company;
- And then I hope thou wilt be satisfied.
- Jul. Indeed I never shall be satisfied
- With Romeo till I behold him- dead-
- Is my poor heart so for a kinsman vex'd.
- Madam, if you could find out but a man
- To bear a poison, I would temper it;
- That Romeo should, upon receipt thereof,
- Soon sleep in quiet. O, how my heart abhors
- To hear him nam'd and cannot come to him,
- To wreak the love I bore my cousin Tybalt
- Upon his body that hath slaughter'd him!
- Lady. Find thou the means, and I'll find such a man.
- But now I'll tell thee joyful tidings, girl.
- Jul. And joy comes well in such a needy time.
- What are they, I beseech your ladyship?
- Lady. Well, well, thou hast a careful father, child;
- One who, to put thee from thy heaviness,
- Hath sorted out a sudden day of joy
- That thou expects not nor I look'd not for.
- Jul. Madam, in happy time! What day is that?
- Lady. Marry, my child, early next Thursday morn
- The gallant, young, and noble gentleman,
- The County Paris, at Saint Peter's Church,
- Shall happily make thee there a joyful bride.
- Jul. Now by Saint Peter's Church, and Peter too,
- He shall not make me there a joyful bride!
- I wonder at this haste, that I must wed
- Ere he that should be husband comes to woo.
- I pray you tell my lord and father, madam,
- I will not marry yet; and when I do, I swear
- It shall be Romeo, whom you know I hate,
- Rather than Paris. These are news indeed!
- Lady. Here comes your father. Tell him so yourself,
- And see how be will take it at your hands.
-
- Enter Capulet and Nurse.
-
- Cap. When the sun sets the air doth drizzle dew,
- But for the sunset of my brother's son
- It rains downright.
- How now? a conduit, girl? What, still in tears?
- Evermore show'ring? In one little body
- Thou counterfeit'st a bark, a sea, a wind:
- For still thy eyes, which I may call the sea,
- Do ebb and flow with tears; the bark thy body is
- Sailing in this salt flood; the winds, thy sighs,
- Who, raging with thy tears and they with them,
- Without a sudden calm will overset
- Thy tempest-tossed body. How now, wife?
- Have you delivered to her our decree?
- Lady. Ay, sir; but she will none, she gives you thanks.
- I would the fool were married to her grave!
- Cap. Soft! take me with you, take me with you, wife.
- How? Will she none? Doth she not give us thanks?
- Is she not proud? Doth she not count her blest,
- Unworthy as she is, that we have wrought
- So worthy a gentleman to be her bridegroom?
- Jul. Not proud you have, but thankful that you have.
- Proud can I never be of what I hate,
- But thankful even for hate that is meant love.
- Cap. How, how, how, how, choplogic? What is this?
- 'Proud'- and 'I thank you'- and 'I thank you not'-
- And yet 'not proud'? Mistress minion you,
- Thank me no thankings, nor proud me no prouds,
- But fettle your fine joints 'gainst Thursday next
- To go with Paris to Saint Peter's Church,
- Or I will drag thee on a hurdle thither.
- Out, you green-sickness carrion I out, you baggage!
- You tallow-face!
- Lady. Fie, fie! what, are you mad?
- Jul. Good father, I beseech you on my knees,
- Hear me with patience but to speak a word.
- Cap. Hang thee, young baggage! disobedient wretch!
- I tell thee what- get thee to church a Thursday
- Or never after look me in the face.
- Speak not, reply not, do not answer me!
- My fingers itch. Wife, we scarce thought us blest
- That God had lent us but this only child;
- But now I see this one is one too much,
- And that we have a curse in having her.
- Out on her, hilding!
- Nurse. God in heaven bless her!
- You are to blame, my lord, to rate her so.
- Cap. And why, my Lady Wisdom? Hold your tongue,
- Good Prudence. Smatter with your gossips, go!
- Nurse. I speak no treason.
- Cap. O, God-i-god-en!
- Nurse. May not one speak?
- Cap. Peace, you mumbling fool!
- Utter your gravity o'er a gossip's bowl,
- For here we need it not.
- Lady. You are too hot.
- Cap. God's bread I it makes me mad. Day, night, late, early,
- At home, abroad, alone, in company,
- Waking or sleeping, still my care hath been
- To have her match'd; and having now provided
- A gentleman of princely parentage,
- Of fair demesnes, youthful, and nobly train'd,
- Stuff'd, as they say, with honourable parts,
- Proportion'd as one's thought would wish a man-
- And then to have a wretched puling fool,
- A whining mammet, in her fortune's tender,
- To answer 'I'll not wed, I cannot love;
- I am too young, I pray you pardon me'!
- But, an you will not wed, I'll pardon you.
- Graze where you will, you shall not house with me.
- Look to't, think on't; I do not use to jest.
- Thursday is near; lay hand on heart, advise:
- An you be mine, I'll give you to my friend;
- An you be not, hang, beg, starve, die in the streets,
- For, by my soul, I'll ne'er acknowledge thee,
- Nor what is mine shall never do thee good.
- Trust to't. Bethink you. I'll not be forsworn. Exit.
- Jul. Is there no pity sitting in the clouds
- That sees into the bottom of my grief?
- O sweet my mother, cast me not away!
- Delay this marriage for a month, a week;
- Or if you do not, make the bridal bed
- In that dim monument where Tybalt lies.
- Lady. Talk not to me, for I'll not speak a word.
- Do as thou wilt, for I have done with thee. Exit.
- Jul. O God!- O nurse, how shall this be prevented?
- My husband is on earth, my faith in heaven.
- How shall that faith return again to earth
- Unless that husband send it me from heaven
- By leaving earth? Comfort me, counsel me.
- Alack, alack, that heaven should practise stratagems
- Upon so soft a subject as myself!
- What say'st thou? Hast thou not a word of joy?
- Some comfort, nurse.
- Nurse. Faith, here it is.
- Romeo is banish'd; and all the world to nothing
- That he dares ne'er come back to challenge you;
- Or if he do, it needs must be by stealth.
- Then, since the case so stands as now it doth,
- I think it best you married with the County.
- O, he's a lovely gentleman!
- Romeo's a dishclout to him. An eagle, madam,
- Hath not so green, so quick, so fair an eye
- As Paris hath. Beshrew my very heart,
- I think you are happy in this second match,
- For it excels your first; or if it did not,
- Your first is dead- or 'twere as good he were
- As living here and you no use of him.
- Jul. Speak'st thou this from thy heart?
- Nurse. And from my soul too; else beshrew them both.
- Jul. Amen!
- Nurse. What?
- Jul. Well, thou hast comforted me marvellous much.
- Go in; and tell my lady I am gone,
- Having displeas'd my father, to Laurence' cell,
- To make confession and to be absolv'd.
- Nurse. Marry, I will; and this is wisely done. Exit.
- Jul. Ancient damnation! O most wicked fiend!
- Is it more sin to wish me thus forsworn,
- Or to dispraise my lord with that same tongue
- Which she hath prais'd him with above compare
- So many thousand times? Go, counsellor!
- Thou and my bosom henceforth shall be twain.
- I'll to the friar to know his remedy.
- If all else fail, myself have power to die. Exit.
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT IV. Scene I.
-Friar Laurence's cell.
-
-Enter Friar, [Laurence] and County Paris.
-
- Friar. On Thursday, sir? The time is very short.
- Par. My father Capulet will have it so,
- And I am nothing slow to slack his haste.
- Friar. You say you do not know the lady's mind.
- Uneven is the course; I like it not.
- Par. Immoderately she weeps for Tybalt's death,
- And therefore have I little talk'd of love;
- For Venus smiles not in a house of tears.
- Now, sir, her father counts it dangerous
- That she do give her sorrow so much sway,
- And in his wisdom hastes our marriage
- To stop the inundation of her tears,
- Which, too much minded by herself alone,
- May be put from her by society.
- Now do you know the reason of this haste.
- Friar. [aside] I would I knew not why it should be slow'd.-
- Look, sir, here comes the lady toward my cell.
-
- Enter Juliet.
-
- Par. Happily met, my lady and my wife!
- Jul. That may be, sir, when I may be a wife.
- Par. That may be must be, love, on Thursday next.
- Jul. What must be shall be.
- Friar. That's a certain text.
- Par. Come you to make confession to this father?
- Jul. To answer that, I should confess to you.
- Par. Do not deny to him that you love me.
- Jul. I will confess to you that I love him.
- Par. So will ye, I am sure, that you love me.
- Jul. If I do so, it will be of more price,
- Being spoke behind your back, than to your face.
- Par. Poor soul, thy face is much abus'd with tears.
- Jul. The tears have got small victory by that,
- For it was bad enough before their spite.
- Par. Thou wrong'st it more than tears with that report.
- Jul. That is no slander, sir, which is a truth;
- And what I spake, I spake it to my face.
- Par. Thy face is mine, and thou hast sland'red it.
- Jul. It may be so, for it is not mine own.
- Are you at leisure, holy father, now,
- Or shall I come to you at evening mass
- Friar. My leisure serves me, pensive daughter, now.
- My lord, we must entreat the time alone.
- Par. God shield I should disturb devotion!
- Juliet, on Thursday early will I rouse ye.
- Till then, adieu, and keep this holy kiss. Exit.
- Jul. O, shut the door! and when thou hast done so,
- Come weep with me- past hope, past cure, past help!
- Friar. Ah, Juliet, I already know thy grief;
- It strains me past the compass of my wits.
- I hear thou must, and nothing may prorogue it,
- On Thursday next be married to this County.
- Jul. Tell me not, friar, that thou hear'st of this,
- Unless thou tell me how I may prevent it.
- If in thy wisdom thou canst give no help,
- Do thou but call my resolution wise
- And with this knife I'll help it presently.
- God join'd my heart and Romeo's, thou our hands;
- And ere this hand, by thee to Romeo's seal'd,
- Shall be the label to another deed,
- Or my true heart with treacherous revolt
- Turn to another, this shall slay them both.
- Therefore, out of thy long-experienc'd time,
- Give me some present counsel; or, behold,
- 'Twixt my extremes and me this bloody knife
- Shall play the empire, arbitrating that
- Which the commission of thy years and art
- Could to no issue of true honour bring.
- Be not so long to speak. I long to die
- If what thou speak'st speak not of remedy.
- Friar. Hold, daughter. I do spy a kind of hope,
- Which craves as desperate an execution
- As that is desperate which we would prevent.
- If, rather than to marry County Paris
- Thou hast the strength of will to slay thyself,
- Then is it likely thou wilt undertake
- A thing like death to chide away this shame,
- That cop'st with death himself to scape from it;
- And, if thou dar'st, I'll give thee remedy.
- Jul. O, bid me leap, rather than marry Paris,
- From off the battlements of yonder tower,
- Or walk in thievish ways, or bid me lurk
- Where serpents are; chain me with roaring bears,
- Or shut me nightly in a charnel house,
- O'ercover'd quite with dead men's rattling bones,
- With reeky shanks and yellow chapless skulls;
- Or bid me go into a new-made grave
- And hide me with a dead man in his shroud-
- Things that, to hear them told, have made me tremble-
- And I will do it without fear or doubt,
- To live an unstain'd wife to my sweet love.
- Friar. Hold, then. Go home, be merry, give consent
- To marry Paris. Wednesday is to-morrow.
- To-morrow night look that thou lie alone;
- Let not the nurse lie with thee in thy chamber.
- Take thou this vial, being then in bed,
- And this distilled liquor drink thou off;
- When presently through all thy veins shall run
- A cold and drowsy humour; for no pulse
- Shall keep his native progress, but surcease;
- No warmth, no breath, shall testify thou livest;
- The roses in thy lips and cheeks shall fade
- To paly ashes, thy eyes' windows fall
- Like death when he shuts up the day of life;
- Each part, depriv'd of supple government,
- Shall, stiff and stark and cold, appear like death;
- And in this borrowed likeness of shrunk death
- Thou shalt continue two-and-forty hours,
- And then awake as from a pleasant sleep.
- Now, when the bridegroom in the morning comes
- To rouse thee from thy bed, there art thou dead.
- Then, as the manner of our country is,
- In thy best robes uncovered on the bier
- Thou shalt be borne to that same ancient vault
- Where all the kindred of the Capulets lie.
- In the mean time, against thou shalt awake,
- Shall Romeo by my letters know our drift;
- And hither shall he come; and he and I
- Will watch thy waking, and that very night
- Shall Romeo bear thee hence to Mantua.
- And this shall free thee from this present shame,
- If no inconstant toy nor womanish fear
- Abate thy valour in the acting it.
- Jul. Give me, give me! O, tell not me of fear!
- Friar. Hold! Get you gone, be strong and prosperous
- In this resolve. I'll send a friar with speed
- To Mantua, with my letters to thy lord.
- Jul. Love give me strength! and strength shall help afford.
- Farewell, dear father.
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-Scene II.
-Capulet's house.
-
-Enter Father Capulet, Mother, Nurse, and Servingmen,
- two or three.
-
- Cap. So many guests invite as here are writ.
- [Exit a Servingman.]
- Sirrah, go hire me twenty cunning cooks.
- Serv. You shall have none ill, sir; for I'll try if they can lick
- their fingers.
- Cap. How canst thou try them so?
- Serv. Marry, sir, 'tis an ill cook that cannot lick his own
- fingers. Therefore he that cannot lick his fingers goes not with
- me.
- Cap. Go, begone.
- Exit Servingman.
- We shall be much unfurnish'd for this time.
- What, is my daughter gone to Friar Laurence?
- Nurse. Ay, forsooth.
- Cap. Well, be may chance to do some good on her.
- A peevish self-will'd harlotry it is.
-
- Enter Juliet.
-
- Nurse. See where she comes from shrift with merry look.
- Cap. How now, my headstrong? Where have you been gadding?
- Jul. Where I have learnt me to repent the sin
- Of disobedient opposition
- To you and your behests, and am enjoin'd
- By holy Laurence to fall prostrate here
- To beg your pardon. Pardon, I beseech you!
- Henceforward I am ever rul'd by you.
- Cap. Send for the County. Go tell him of this.
- I'll have this knot knit up to-morrow morning.
- Jul. I met the youthful lord at Laurence' cell
- And gave him what becomed love I might,
- Not stepping o'er the bounds of modesty.
- Cap. Why, I am glad on't. This is well. Stand up.
- This is as't should be. Let me see the County.
- Ay, marry, go, I say, and fetch him hither.
- Now, afore God, this reverend holy friar,
- All our whole city is much bound to him.
- Jul. Nurse, will you go with me into my closet
- To help me sort such needful ornaments
- As you think fit to furnish me to-morrow?
- Mother. No, not till Thursday. There is time enough.
- Cap. Go, nurse, go with her. We'll to church to-morrow.
- Exeunt Juliet and Nurse.
- Mother. We shall be short in our provision.
- 'Tis now near night.
- Cap. Tush, I will stir about,
- And all things shall be well, I warrant thee, wife.
- Go thou to Juliet, help to deck up her.
- I'll not to bed to-night; let me alone.
- I'll play the housewife for this once. What, ho!
- They are all forth; well, I will walk myself
- To County Paris, to prepare him up
- Against to-morrow. My heart is wondrous light,
- Since this same wayward girl is so reclaim'd.
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-Scene III.
-Juliet's chamber.
-
-Enter Juliet and Nurse.
-
- Jul. Ay, those attires are best; but, gentle nurse,
- I pray thee leave me to myself to-night;
- For I have need of many orisons
- To move the heavens to smile upon my state,
- Which, well thou knowest, is cross and full of sin.
-
- Enter Mother.
-
- Mother. What, are you busy, ho? Need you my help?
- Jul. No, madam; we have cull'd such necessaries
- As are behooffull for our state to-morrow.
- So please you, let me now be left alone,
- And let the nurse this night sit up with you;
- For I am sure you have your hands full all
- In this so sudden business.
- Mother. Good night.
- Get thee to bed, and rest; for thou hast need.
- Exeunt [Mother and Nurse.]
- Jul. Farewell! God knows when we shall meet again.
- I have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins
- That almost freezes up the heat of life.
- I'll call them back again to comfort me.
- Nurse!- What should she do here?
- My dismal scene I needs must act alone.
- Come, vial.
- What if this mixture do not work at all?
- Shall I be married then to-morrow morning?
- No, No! This shall forbid it. Lie thou there.
- Lays down a dagger.
- What if it be a poison which the friar
- Subtilly hath minist'red to have me dead,
- Lest in this marriage he should be dishonour'd
- Because he married me before to Romeo?
- I fear it is; and yet methinks it should not,
- For he hath still been tried a holy man.
- I will not entertain so bad a thought.
- How if, when I am laid into the tomb,
- I wake before the time that Romeo
- Come to redeem me? There's a fearful point!
- Shall I not then be stifled in the vault,
- To whose foul mouth no healthsome air breathes in,
- And there die strangled ere my Romeo comes?
- Or, if I live, is it not very like
- The horrible conceit of death and night,
- Together with the terror of the place-
- As in a vault, an ancient receptacle
- Where for this many hundred years the bones
- Of all my buried ancestors are pack'd;
- Where bloody Tybalt, yet but green in earth,
- Lies fest'ring in his shroud; where, as they say,
- At some hours in the night spirits resort-
- Alack, alack, is it not like that I,
- So early waking- what with loathsome smells,
- And shrieks like mandrakes torn out of the earth,
- That living mortals, hearing them, run mad-
- O, if I wake, shall I not be distraught,
- Environed with all these hideous fears,
- And madly play with my forefathers' joints,
- And pluck the mangled Tybalt from his shroud.,
- And, in this rage, with some great kinsman's bone
- As with a club dash out my desp'rate brains?
- O, look! methinks I see my cousin's ghost
- Seeking out Romeo, that did spit his body
- Upon a rapier's point. Stay, Tybalt, stay!
- Romeo, I come! this do I drink to thee.
-
- She [drinks and] falls upon her bed within the curtains.
-
-
-
-
-Scene IV.
-Capulet's house.
-
-Enter Lady of the House and Nurse.
-
- Lady. Hold, take these keys and fetch more spices, nurse.
- Nurse. They call for dates and quinces in the pastry.
-
- Enter Old Capulet.
-
- Cap. Come, stir, stir, stir! The second cock hath crow'd,
- The curfew bell hath rung, 'tis three o'clock.
- Look to the bak'd meats, good Angelica;
- Spare not for cost.
- Nurse. Go, you cot-quean, go,
- Get you to bed! Faith, you'll be sick to-morrow
- For this night's watching.
- Cap. No, not a whit. What, I have watch'd ere now
- All night for lesser cause, and ne'er been sick.
- Lady. Ay, you have been a mouse-hunt in your time;
- But I will watch you from such watching now.
- Exeunt Lady and Nurse.
- Cap. A jealous hood, a jealous hood!
-
- Enter three or four [Fellows, with spits and logs and baskets.
-
- What is there? Now, fellow,
- Fellow. Things for the cook, sir; but I know not what.
- Cap. Make haste, make haste. [Exit Fellow.] Sirrah, fetch drier
- logs.
- Call Peter; he will show thee where they are.
- Fellow. I have a head, sir, that will find out logs
- And never trouble Peter for the matter.
- Cap. Mass, and well said; a merry whoreson, ha!
- Thou shalt be loggerhead. [Exit Fellow.] Good faith, 'tis day.
- The County will be here with music straight,
- For so he said he would. Play music.
- I hear him near.
- Nurse! Wife! What, ho! What, nurse, I say!
-
- Enter Nurse.
- Go waken Juliet; go and trim her up.
- I'll go and chat with Paris. Hie, make haste,
- Make haste! The bridegroom he is come already:
- Make haste, I say.
- [Exeunt.]
-
-
-
-
-Scene V.
-Juliet's chamber.
-
-[Enter Nurse.]
-
- Nurse. Mistress! what, mistress! Juliet! Fast, I warrant her, she.
- Why, lamb! why, lady! Fie, you slug-abed!
- Why, love, I say! madam! sweetheart! Why, bride!
- What, not a word? You take your pennyworths now!
- Sleep for a week; for the next night, I warrant,
- The County Paris hath set up his rest
- That you shall rest but little. God forgive me!
- Marry, and amen. How sound is she asleep!
- I needs must wake her. Madam, madam, madam!
- Ay, let the County take you in your bed!
- He'll fright you up, i' faith. Will it not be?
- [Draws aside the curtains.]
- What, dress'd, and in your clothes, and down again?
- I must needs wake you. Lady! lady! lady!
- Alas, alas! Help, help! My lady's dead!
- O weraday that ever I was born!
- Some aqua-vitae, ho! My lord! my lady!
-
- Enter Mother.
-
- Mother. What noise is here?
- Nurse. O lamentable day!
- Mother. What is the matter?
- Nurse. Look, look! O heavy day!
- Mother. O me, O me! My child, my only life!
- Revive, look up, or I will die with thee!
- Help, help! Call help.
-
- Enter Father.
-
- Father. For shame, bring Juliet forth; her lord is come.
- Nurse. She's dead, deceas'd; she's dead! Alack the day!
- Mother. Alack the day, she's dead, she's dead, she's dead!
- Cap. Ha! let me see her. Out alas! she's cold,
- Her blood is settled, and her joints are stiff;
- Life and these lips have long been separated.
- Death lies on her like an untimely frost
- Upon the sweetest flower of all the field.
- Nurse. O lamentable day!
- Mother. O woful time!
- Cap. Death, that hath ta'en her hence to make me wail,
- Ties up my tongue and will not let me speak.
-
- Enter Friar [Laurence] and the County [Paris], with Musicians.
-
- Friar. Come, is the bride ready to go to church?
- Cap. Ready to go, but never to return.
- O son, the night before thy wedding day
- Hath Death lain with thy wife. See, there she lies,
- Flower as she was, deflowered by him.
- Death is my son-in-law, Death is my heir;
- My daughter he hath wedded. I will die
- And leave him all. Life, living, all is Death's.
- Par. Have I thought long to see this morning's face,
- And doth it give me such a sight as this?
- Mother. Accurs'd, unhappy, wretched, hateful day!
- Most miserable hour that e'er time saw
- In lasting labour of his pilgrimage!
- But one, poor one, one poor and loving child,
- But one thing to rejoice and solace in,
- And cruel Death hath catch'd it from my sight!
- Nurse. O woe? O woful, woful, woful day!
- Most lamentable day, most woful day
- That ever ever I did yet behold!
- O day! O day! O day! O hateful day!
- Never was seen so black a day as this.
- O woful day! O woful day!
- Par. Beguil'd, divorced, wronged, spited, slain!
- Most detestable Death, by thee beguil'd,
- By cruel cruel thee quite overthrown!
- O love! O life! not life, but love in death
- Cap. Despis'd, distressed, hated, martyr'd, kill'd!
- Uncomfortable time, why cam'st thou now
- To murther, murther our solemnity?
- O child! O child! my soul, and not my child!
- Dead art thou, dead! alack, my child is dead,
- And with my child my joys are buried!
- Friar. Peace, ho, for shame! Confusion's cure lives not
- In these confusions. Heaven and yourself
- Had part in this fair maid! now heaven hath all,
- And all the better is it for the maid.
- Your part in her you could not keep from death,
- But heaven keeps his part in eternal life.
- The most you sought was her promotion,
- For 'twas your heaven she should be advanc'd;
- And weep ye now, seeing she is advanc'd
- Above the clouds, as high as heaven itself?
- O, in this love, you love your child so ill
- That you run mad, seeing that she is well.
- She's not well married that lives married long,
- But she's best married that dies married young.
- Dry up your tears and stick your rosemary
- On this fair corse, and, as the custom is,
- In all her best array bear her to church;
- For though fond nature bids us all lament,
- Yet nature's tears are reason's merriment.
- Cap. All things that we ordained festival
- Turn from their office to black funeral-
- Our instruments to melancholy bells,
- Our wedding cheer to a sad burial feast;
- Our solemn hymns to sullen dirges change;
- Our bridal flowers serve for a buried corse;
- And all things change them to the contrary.
- Friar. Sir, go you in; and, madam, go with him;
- And go, Sir Paris. Every one prepare
- To follow this fair corse unto her grave.
- The heavens do low'r upon you for some ill;
- Move them no more by crossing their high will.
- Exeunt. Manent Musicians [and Nurse].
- 1. Mus. Faith, we may put up our pipes and be gone.
- Nurse. Honest good fellows, ah, put up, put up!
- For well you know this is a pitiful case. [Exit.]
- 1. Mus. Ay, by my troth, the case may be amended.
-
- Enter Peter.
-
- Pet. Musicians, O, musicians, 'Heart's ease,' 'Heart's ease'!
- O, an you will have me live, play 'Heart's ease.'
- 1. Mus. Why 'Heart's ease'',
- Pet. O, musicians, because my heart itself plays 'My heart is full
- of woe.' O, play me some merry dump to comfort me.
- 1. Mus. Not a dump we! 'Tis no time to play now.
- Pet. You will not then?
- 1. Mus. No.
- Pet. I will then give it you soundly.
- 1. Mus. What will you give us?
- Pet. No money, on my faith, but the gleek. I will give you the
- minstrel.
- 1. Mus. Then will I give you the serving-creature.
- Pet. Then will I lay the serving-creature's dagger on your pate.
- I will carry no crotchets. I'll re you, I'll fa you. Do you note
- me?
- 1. Mus. An you re us and fa us, you note us.
- 2. Mus. Pray you put up your dagger, and put out your wit.
- Pet. Then have at you with my wit! I will dry-beat you with an iron
- wit, and put up my iron dagger. Answer me like men.
-
- 'When griping grief the heart doth wound,
- And doleful dumps the mind oppress,
- Then music with her silver sound'-
-
- Why 'silver sound'? Why 'music with her silver sound'?
- What say you, Simon Catling?
- 1. Mus. Marry, sir, because silver hath a sweet sound.
- Pet. Pretty! What say You, Hugh Rebeck?
- 2. Mus. I say 'silver sound' because musicians sound for silver.
- Pet. Pretty too! What say you, James Soundpost?
- 3. Mus. Faith, I know not what to say.
- Pet. O, I cry you mercy! you are the singer. I will say for you. It
- is 'music with her silver sound' because musicians have no gold
- for sounding.
-
- 'Then music with her silver sound
- With speedy help doth lend redress.' [Exit.
-
- 1. Mus. What a pestilent knave is this same?
- 2. Mus. Hang him, Jack! Come, we'll in here, tarry for the
- mourners, and stay dinner.
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT V. Scene I.
-Mantua. A street.
-
-Enter Romeo.
-
- Rom. If I may trust the flattering truth of sleep
- My dreams presage some joyful news at hand.
- My bosom's lord sits lightly in his throne,
- And all this day an unaccustom'd spirit
- Lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts.
- I dreamt my lady came and found me dead
- (Strange dream that gives a dead man leave to think!)
- And breath'd such life with kisses in my lips
- That I reviv'd and was an emperor.
- Ah me! how sweet is love itself possess'd,
- When but love's shadows are so rich in joy!
-
- Enter Romeo's Man Balthasar, booted.
-
- News from Verona! How now, Balthasar?
- Dost thou not bring me letters from the friar?
- How doth my lady? Is my father well?
- How fares my Juliet? That I ask again,
- For nothing can be ill if she be well.
- Man. Then she is well, and nothing can be ill.
- Her body sleeps in Capel's monument,
- And her immortal part with angels lives.
- I saw her laid low in her kindred's vault
- And presently took post to tell it you.
- O, pardon me for bringing these ill news,
- Since you did leave it for my office, sir.
- Rom. Is it e'en so? Then I defy you, stars!
- Thou knowest my lodging. Get me ink and paper
- And hire posthorses. I will hence to-night.
- Man. I do beseech you, sir, have patience.
- Your looks are pale and wild and do import
- Some misadventure.
- Rom. Tush, thou art deceiv'd.
- Leave me and do the thing I bid thee do.
- Hast thou no letters to me from the friar?
- Man. No, my good lord.
- Rom. No matter. Get thee gone
- And hire those horses. I'll be with thee straight.
- Exit [Balthasar].
- Well, Juliet, I will lie with thee to-night.
- Let's see for means. O mischief, thou art swift
- To enter in the thoughts of desperate men!
- I do remember an apothecary,
- And hereabouts 'a dwells, which late I noted
- In tatt'red weeds, with overwhelming brows,
- Culling of simples. Meagre were his looks,
- Sharp misery had worn him to the bones;
- And in his needy shop a tortoise hung,
- An alligator stuff'd, and other skins
- Of ill-shaped fishes; and about his shelves
- A beggarly account of empty boxes,
- Green earthen pots, bladders, and musty seeds,
- Remnants of packthread, and old cakes of roses
- Were thinly scattered, to make up a show.
- Noting this penury, to myself I said,
- 'An if a man did need a poison now
- Whose sale is present death in Mantua,
- Here lives a caitiff wretch would sell it him.'
- O, this same thought did but forerun my need,
- And this same needy man must sell it me.
- As I remember, this should be the house.
- Being holiday, the beggar's shop is shut. What, ho! apothecary!
-
- Enter Apothecary.
-
- Apoth. Who calls so loud?
- Rom. Come hither, man. I see that thou art poor.
- Hold, there is forty ducats. Let me have
- A dram of poison, such soon-speeding gear
- As will disperse itself through all the veins
- That the life-weary taker mall fall dead,
- And that the trunk may be discharg'd of breath
- As violently as hasty powder fir'd
- Doth hurry from the fatal cannon's womb.
- Apoth. Such mortal drugs I have; but Mantua's law
- Is death to any he that utters them.
- Rom. Art thou so bare and full of wretchedness
- And fearest to die? Famine is in thy cheeks,
- Need and oppression starveth in thine eyes,
- Contempt and beggary hangs upon thy back:
- The world is not thy friend, nor the world's law;
- The world affords no law to make thee rich;
- Then be not poor, but break it and take this.
- Apoth. My poverty but not my will consents.
- Rom. I pay thy poverty and not thy will.
- Apoth. Put this in any liquid thing you will
- And drink it off, and if you had the strength
- Of twenty men, it would dispatch you straight.
- Rom. There is thy gold- worse poison to men's souls,
- Doing more murther in this loathsome world,
- Than these poor compounds that thou mayst not sell.
- I sell thee poison; thou hast sold me none.
- Farewell. Buy food and get thyself in flesh.
- Come, cordial and not poison, go with me
- To Juliet's grave; for there must I use thee.
- Exeunt.
-
-
-
-
-Scene II.
-Verona. Friar Laurence's cell.
-
-Enter Friar John to Friar Laurence.
-
- John. Holy Franciscan friar, brother, ho!
-
- Enter Friar Laurence.
-
- Laur. This same should be the voice of Friar John.
- Welcome from Mantua. What says Romeo?
- Or, if his mind be writ, give me his letter.
- John. Going to find a barefoot brother out,
- One of our order, to associate me
- Here in this city visiting the sick,
- And finding him, the searchers of the town,
- Suspecting that we both were in a house
- Where the infectious pestilence did reign,
- Seal'd up the doors, and would not let us forth,
- So that my speed to Mantua there was stay'd.
- Laur. Who bare my letter, then, to Romeo?
- John. I could not send it- here it is again-
- Nor get a messenger to bring it thee,
- So fearful were they of infection.
- Laur. Unhappy fortune! By my brotherhood,
- The letter was not nice, but full of charge,
- Of dear import; and the neglecting it
- May do much danger. Friar John, go hence,
- Get me an iron crow and bring it straight
- Unto my cell.
- John. Brother, I'll go and bring it thee. Exit.
- Laur. Now, must I to the monument alone.
- Within this three hours will fair Juliet wake.
- She will beshrew me much that Romeo
- Hath had no notice of these accidents;
- But I will write again to Mantua,
- And keep her at my cell till Romeo come-
- Poor living corse, clos'd in a dead man's tomb! Exit.
-
-
-
-
-Scene III.
-Verona. A churchyard; in it the monument of the Capulets.
-
-Enter Paris and his Page with flowers and [a torch].
-
- Par. Give me thy torch, boy. Hence, and stand aloof.
- Yet put it out, for I would not be seen.
- Under yond yew tree lay thee all along,
- Holding thine ear close to the hollow ground.
- So shall no foot upon the churchyard tread
- (Being loose, unfirm, with digging up of graves)
- But thou shalt hear it. Whistle then to me,
- As signal that thou hear'st something approach.
- Give me those flowers. Do as I bid thee, go.
- Page. [aside] I am almost afraid to stand alone
- Here in the churchyard; yet I will adventure. [Retires.]
- Par. Sweet flower, with flowers thy bridal bed I strew
- (O woe! thy canopy is dust and stones)
- Which with sweet water nightly I will dew;
- Or, wanting that, with tears distill'd by moans.
- The obsequies that I for thee will keep
- Nightly shall be to strew, thy grave and weep.
- Whistle Boy.
- The boy gives warning something doth approach.
- What cursed foot wanders this way to-night
- To cross my obsequies and true love's rite?
- What, with a torch? Muffle me, night, awhile. [Retires.]
-
- Enter Romeo, and Balthasar with a torch, a mattock,
- and a crow of iron.
-
- Rom. Give me that mattock and the wrenching iron.
- Hold, take this letter. Early in the morning
- See thou deliver it to my lord and father.
- Give me the light. Upon thy life I charge thee,
- Whate'er thou hearest or seest, stand all aloof
- And do not interrupt me in my course.
- Why I descend into this bed of death
- Is partly to behold my lady's face,
- But chiefly to take thence from her dead finger
- A precious ring- a ring that I must use
- In dear employment. Therefore hence, be gone.
- But if thou, jealous, dost return to pry
- In what I farther shall intend to do,
- By heaven, I will tear thee joint by joint
- And strew this hungry churchyard with thy limbs.
- The time and my intents are savage-wild,
- More fierce and more inexorable far
- Than empty tigers or the roaring sea.
- Bal. I will be gone, sir, and not trouble you.
- Rom. So shalt thou show me friendship. Take thou that.
- Live, and be prosperous; and farewell, good fellow.
- Bal. [aside] For all this same, I'll hide me hereabout.
- His looks I fear, and his intents I doubt. [Retires.]
- Rom. Thou detestable maw, thou womb of death,
- Gorg'd with the dearest morsel of the earth,
- Thus I enforce thy rotten jaws to open,
- And in despite I'll cram thee with more food.
- Romeo opens the tomb.
- Par. This is that banish'd haughty Montague
- That murd'red my love's cousin- with which grief
- It is supposed the fair creature died-
- And here is come to do some villanous shame
- To the dead bodies. I will apprehend him.
- Stop thy unhallowed toil, vile Montague!
- Can vengeance be pursu'd further than death?
- Condemned villain, I do apprehend thee.
- Obey, and go with me; for thou must die.
- Rom. I must indeed; and therefore came I hither.
- Good gentle youth, tempt not a desp'rate man.
- Fly hence and leave me. Think upon these gone;
- Let them affright thee. I beseech thee, youth,
- But not another sin upon my head
- By urging me to fury. O, be gone!
- By heaven, I love thee better than myself,
- For I come hither arm'd against myself.
- Stay not, be gone. Live, and hereafter say
- A madman's mercy bid thee run away.
- Par. I do defy thy, conjuration
- And apprehend thee for a felon here.
- Rom. Wilt thou provoke me? Then have at thee, boy!
- They fight.
- Page. O Lord, they fight! I will go call the watch.
- [Exit. Paris falls.]
- Par. O, I am slain! If thou be merciful,
- Open the tomb, lay me with Juliet. [Dies.]
- Rom. In faith, I will. Let me peruse this face.
- Mercutio's kinsman, noble County Paris!
- What said my man when my betossed soul
- Did not attend him as we rode? I think
- He told me Paris should have married Juliet.
- Said he not so? or did I dream it so?
- Or am I mad, hearing him talk of Juliet
- To think it was so? O, give me thy hand,
- One writ with me in sour misfortune's book!
- I'll bury thee in a triumphant grave.
- A grave? O, no, a lanthorn, slaught'red youth,
- For here lies Juliet, and her beauty makes
- This vault a feasting presence full of light.
- Death, lie thou there, by a dead man interr'd.
- [Lays him in the tomb.]
- How oft when men are at the point of death
- Have they been merry! which their keepers call
- A lightning before death. O, how may I
- Call this a lightning? O my love! my wife!
- Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath,
- Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty.
- Thou art not conquer'd. Beauty's ensign yet
- Is crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks,
- And death's pale flag is not advanced there.
- Tybalt, liest thou there in thy bloody sheet?
- O, what more favour can I do to thee
- Than with that hand that cut thy youth in twain
- To sunder his that was thine enemy?
- Forgive me, cousin.' Ah, dear Juliet,
- Why art thou yet so fair? Shall I believe
- That unsubstantial Death is amorous,
- And that the lean abhorred monster keeps
- Thee here in dark to be his paramour?
- For fear of that I still will stay with thee
- And never from this palace of dim night
- Depart again. Here, here will I remain
- With worms that are thy chambermaids. O, here
- Will I set up my everlasting rest
- And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars
- From this world-wearied flesh. Eyes, look your last!
- Arms, take your last embrace! and, lips, O you
- The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss
- A dateless bargain to engrossing death!
- Come, bitter conduct; come, unsavoury guide!
- Thou desperate pilot, now at once run on
- The dashing rocks thy seasick weary bark!
- Here's to my love! [Drinks.] O true apothecary!
- Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die. Falls.
-
- Enter Friar [Laurence], with lanthorn, crow, and spade.
-
- Friar. Saint Francis be my speed! how oft to-night
- Have my old feet stumbled at graves! Who's there?
- Bal. Here's one, a friend, and one that knows you well.
- Friar. Bliss be upon you! Tell me, good my friend,
- What torch is yond that vainly lends his light
- To grubs and eyeless skulls? As I discern,
- It burneth in the Capels' monument.
- Bal. It doth so, holy sir; and there's my master,
- One that you love.
- Friar. Who is it?
- Bal. Romeo.
- Friar. How long hath he been there?
- Bal. Full half an hour.
- Friar. Go with me to the vault.
- Bal. I dare not, sir.
- My master knows not but I am gone hence,
- And fearfully did menace me with death
- If I did stay to look on his intents.
- Friar. Stay then; I'll go alone. Fear comes upon me.
- O, much I fear some ill unthrifty thing.
- Bal. As I did sleep under this yew tree here,
- I dreamt my master and another fought,
- And that my master slew him.
- Friar. Romeo!
- Alack, alack, what blood is this which stains
- The stony entrance of this sepulchre?
- What mean these masterless and gory swords
- To lie discolour'd by this place of peace? [Enters the tomb.]
- Romeo! O, pale! Who else? What, Paris too?
- And steep'd in blood? Ah, what an unkind hour
- Is guilty of this lamentable chance! The lady stirs.
- Juliet rises.
- Jul. O comfortable friar! where is my lord?
- I do remember well where I should be,
- And there I am. Where is my Romeo?
- Friar. I hear some noise. Lady, come from that nest
- Of death, contagion, and unnatural sleep.
- A greater power than we can contradict
- Hath thwarted our intents. Come, come away.
- Thy husband in thy bosom there lies dead;
- And Paris too. Come, I'll dispose of thee
- Among a sisterhood of holy nuns.
- Stay not to question, for the watch is coming.
- Come, go, good Juliet. I dare no longer stay.
- Jul. Go, get thee hence, for I will not away.
- Exit [Friar].
- What's here? A cup, clos'd in my true love's hand?
- Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end.
- O churl! drunk all, and left no friendly drop
- To help me after? I will kiss thy lips.
- Haply some poison yet doth hang on them
- To make me die with a restorative. [Kisses him.]
- Thy lips are warm!
- Chief Watch. [within] Lead, boy. Which way?
- Yea, noise? Then I'll be brief. O happy dagger!
- [Snatches Romeo's dagger.]
- This is thy sheath; there rest, and let me die.
- She stabs herself and falls [on Romeo's body].
-
- Enter [Paris's] Boy and Watch.
-
- Boy. This is the place. There, where the torch doth burn.
- Chief Watch. 'the ground is bloody. Search about the churchyard.
- Go, some of you; whoe'er you find attach.
- [Exeunt some of the Watch.]
- Pitiful sight! here lies the County slain;
- And Juliet bleeding, warm, and newly dead,
- Who here hath lain this two days buried.
- Go, tell the Prince; run to the Capulets;
- Raise up the Montagues; some others search.
- [Exeunt others of the Watch.]
- We see the ground whereon these woes do lie,
- But the true ground of all these piteous woes
- We cannot without circumstance descry.
-
- Enter [some of the Watch,] with Romeo's Man [Balthasar].
-
- 2. Watch. Here's Romeo's man. We found him in the churchyard.
- Chief Watch. Hold him in safety till the Prince come hither.
-
- Enter Friar [Laurence] and another Watchman.
-
- 3. Watch. Here is a friar that trembles, sighs, and weeps.
- We took this mattock and this spade from him
- As he was coming from this churchyard side.
- Chief Watch. A great suspicion! Stay the friar too.
-
- Enter the Prince [and Attendants].
-
- Prince. What misadventure is so early up,
- That calls our person from our morning rest?
-
- Enter Capulet and his Wife [with others].
-
- Cap. What should it be, that they so shriek abroad?
- Wife. The people in the street cry 'Romeo,'
- Some 'Juliet,' and some 'Paris'; and all run,
- With open outcry, toward our monument.
- Prince. What fear is this which startles in our ears?
- Chief Watch. Sovereign, here lies the County Paris slain;
- And Romeo dead; and Juliet, dead before,
- Warm and new kill'd.
- Prince. Search, seek, and know how this foul murder comes.
- Chief Watch. Here is a friar, and slaughter'd Romeo's man,
- With instruments upon them fit to open
- These dead men's tombs.
- Cap. O heavens! O wife, look how our daughter bleeds!
- This dagger hath mista'en, for, lo, his house
- Is empty on the back of Montague,
- And it missheathed in my daughter's bosom!
- Wife. O me! this sight of death is as a bell
- That warns my old age to a sepulchre.
-
- Enter Montague [and others].
-
- Prince. Come, Montague; for thou art early up
- To see thy son and heir more early down.
- Mon. Alas, my liege, my wife is dead to-night!
- Grief of my son's exile hath stopp'd her breath.
- What further woe conspires against mine age?
- Prince. Look, and thou shalt see.
- Mon. O thou untaught! what manners is in this,
- To press before thy father to a grave?
- Prince. Seal up the mouth of outrage for a while,
- Till we can clear these ambiguities
- And know their spring, their head, their true descent;
- And then will I be general of your woes
- And lead you even to death. Meantime forbear,
- And let mischance be slave to patience.
- Bring forth the parties of suspicion.
- Friar. I am the greatest, able to do least,
- Yet most suspected, as the time and place
- Doth make against me, of this direful murther;
- And here I stand, both to impeach and purge
- Myself condemned and myself excus'd.
- Prince. Then say it once what thou dost know in this.
- Friar. I will be brief, for my short date of breath
- Is not so long as is a tedious tale.
- Romeo, there dead, was husband to that Juliet;
- And she, there dead, that Romeo's faithful wife.
- I married them; and their stol'n marriage day
- Was Tybalt's doomsday, whose untimely death
- Banish'd the new-made bridegroom from this city;
- For whom, and not for Tybalt, Juliet pin'd.
- You, to remove that siege of grief from her,
- Betroth'd and would have married her perforce
- To County Paris. Then comes she to me
- And with wild looks bid me devise some mean
- To rid her from this second marriage,
- Or in my cell there would she kill herself.
- Then gave I her (so tutored by my art)
- A sleeping potion; which so took effect
- As I intended, for it wrought on her
- The form of death. Meantime I writ to Romeo
- That he should hither come as this dire night
- To help to take her from her borrowed grave,
- Being the time the potion's force should cease.
- But he which bore my letter, Friar John,
- Was stay'd by accident, and yesternight
- Return'd my letter back. Then all alone
- At the prefixed hour of her waking
- Came I to take her from her kindred's vault;
- Meaning to keep her closely at my cell
- Till I conveniently could send to Romeo.
- But when I came, some minute ere the time
- Of her awaking, here untimely lay
- The noble Paris and true Romeo dead.
- She wakes; and I entreated her come forth
- And bear this work of heaven with patience;
- But then a noise did scare me from the tomb,
- And she, too desperate, would not go with me,
- But, as it seems, did violence on herself.
- All this I know, and to the marriage
- Her nurse is privy; and if aught in this
- Miscarried by my fault, let my old life
- Be sacrific'd, some hour before his time,
- Unto the rigour of severest law.
- Prince. We still have known thee for a holy man.
- Where's Romeo's man? What can he say in this?
- Bal. I brought my master news of Juliet's death;
- And then in post he came from Mantua
- To this same place, to this same monument.
- This letter he early bid me give his father,
- And threat'ned me with death, going in the vault,
- If I departed not and left him there.
- Prince. Give me the letter. I will look on it.
- Where is the County's page that rais'd the watch?
- Sirrah, what made your master in this place?
- Boy. He came with flowers to strew his lady's grave;
- And bid me stand aloof, and so I did.
- Anon comes one with light to ope the tomb;
- And by-and-by my master drew on him;
- And then I ran away to call the watch.
- Prince. This letter doth make good the friar's words,
- Their course of love, the tidings of her death;
- And here he writes that he did buy a poison
- Of a poor pothecary, and therewithal
- Came to this vault to die, and lie with Juliet.
- Where be these enemies? Capulet, Montage,
- See what a scourge is laid upon your hate,
- That heaven finds means to kill your joys with love!
- And I, for winking at you, discords too,
- Have lost a brace of kinsmen. All are punish'd.
- Cap. O brother Montague, give me thy hand.
- This is my daughter's jointure, for no more
- Can I demand.
- Mon. But I can give thee more;
- For I will raise her Statue in pure gold,
- That whiles Verona by that name is known,
- There shall no figure at such rate be set
- As that of true and faithful Juliet.
- Cap. As rich shall Romeo's by his lady's lie-
- Poor sacrifices of our enmity!
- Prince. A glooming peace this morning with it brings.
- The sun for sorrow will not show his head.
- Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things;
- Some shall be pardon'd, and some punished;
- For never was a story of more woe
- Than this of Juliet and her Romeo.
- Exeunt omnes.
-
-THE END
-
-
-
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-
-1594
-
-
-
-
-
-THE TAMING OF THE SHREW
-
-by William Shakespeare
-
-
-
-Dramatis Personae
-
- Persons in the Induction
- A LORD
- CHRISTOPHER SLY, a tinker
- HOSTESS
- PAGE
- PLAYERS
- HUNTSMEN
- SERVANTS
-
- BAPTISTA MINOLA, a gentleman of Padua
- VINCENTIO, a Merchant of Pisa
- LUCENTIO, son to Vincentio, in love with Bianca
- PETRUCHIO, a gentleman of Verona, a suitor to Katherina
-
- Suitors to Bianca
- GREMIO
- HORTENSIO
-
- Servants to Lucentio
- TRANIO
- BIONDELLO
-
- Servants to Petruchio
- GRUMIO
- CURTIS
-
- A PEDANT
-
- Daughters to Baptista
- KATHERINA, the shrew
- BIANCA
-
- A WIDOW
-
- Tailor, Haberdasher, and Servants attending on Baptista and
- Petruchio
-
- SCENE:
- Padua, and PETRUCHIO'S house in the country
-
-SC_1
- INDUCTION. SCENE I.
- Before an alehouse on a heath
-
- Enter HOSTESS and SLY
-
- SLY. I'll pheeze you, in faith.
- HOSTESS. A pair of stocks, you rogue!
- SLY. Y'are a baggage; the Slys are no rogues. Look in the
- chronicles: we came in with Richard Conqueror. Therefore, paucas
- pallabris; let the world slide. Sessa!
- HOSTESS. You will not pay for the glasses you have burst?
- SLY. No, not a denier. Go by, Saint Jeronimy, go to thy cold bed
- and warm thee.
- HOSTESS. I know my remedy; I must go fetch the third-borough.
- Exit
- SLY. Third, or fourth, or fifth borough, I'll answer him by law.
- I'll not budge an inch, boy; let him come, and kindly.
- [Falls asleep]
-
- Wind horns. Enter a LORD from hunting, with his train
-
- LORD. Huntsman, I charge thee, tender well my hounds;
- Brach Merriman, the poor cur, is emboss'd;
- And couple Clowder with the deep-mouth'd brach.
- Saw'st thou not, boy, how Silver made it good
- At the hedge corner, in the coldest fault?
- I would not lose the dog for twenty pound.
- FIRST HUNTSMAN. Why, Belman is as good as he, my lord;
- He cried upon it at the merest loss,
- And twice to-day pick'd out the dullest scent;
- Trust me, I take him for the better dog.
- LORD. Thou art a fool; if Echo were as fleet,
- I would esteem him worth a dozen such.
- But sup them well, and look unto them all;
- To-morrow I intend to hunt again.
- FIRST HUNTSMAN. I will, my lord.
- LORD. What's here? One dead, or drunk?
- See, doth he breathe?
- SECOND HUNTSMAN. He breathes, my lord. Were he not warm'd with ale,
- This were a bed but cold to sleep so soundly.
- LORD. O monstrous beast, how like a swine he lies!
- Grim death, how foul and loathsome is thine image!
- Sirs, I will practise on this drunken man.
- What think you, if he were convey'd to bed,
- Wrapp'd in sweet clothes, rings put upon his fingers,
- A most delicious banquet by his bed,
- And brave attendants near him when he wakes,
- Would not the beggar then forget himself?
- FIRST HUNTSMAN. Believe me, lord, I think he cannot choose.
- SECOND HUNTSMAN. It would seem strange unto him when he wak'd.
- LORD. Even as a flatt'ring dream or worthless fancy.
- Then take him up, and manage well the jest:
- Carry him gently to my fairest chamber,
- And hang it round with all my wanton pictures;
- Balm his foul head in warm distilled waters,
- And burn sweet wood to make the lodging sweet;
- Procure me music ready when he wakes,
- To make a dulcet and a heavenly sound;
- And if he chance to speak, be ready straight,
- And with a low submissive reverence
- Say 'What is it your honour will command?'
- Let one attend him with a silver basin
- Full of rose-water and bestrew'd with flowers;
- Another bear the ewer, the third a diaper,
- And say 'Will't please your lordship cool your hands?'
- Some one be ready with a costly suit,
- And ask him what apparel he will wear;
- Another tell him of his hounds and horse,
- And that his lady mourns at his disease;
- Persuade him that he hath been lunatic,
- And, when he says he is, say that he dreams,
- For he is nothing but a mighty lord.
- This do, and do it kindly, gentle sirs;
- It will be pastime passing excellent,
- If it be husbanded with modesty.
- FIRST HUNTSMAN. My lord, I warrant you we will play our part
- As he shall think by our true diligence
- He is no less than what we say he is.
- LORD. Take him up gently, and to bed with him;
- And each one to his office when he wakes.
- [SLY is carried out. A trumpet sounds]
- Sirrah, go see what trumpet 'tis that sounds-
- Exit SERVANT
- Belike some noble gentleman that means,
- Travelling some journey, to repose him here.
-
- Re-enter a SERVINGMAN
-
- How now! who is it?
- SERVANT. An't please your honour, players
- That offer service to your lordship.
- LORD. Bid them come near.
-
- Enter PLAYERS
-
- Now, fellows, you are welcome.
- PLAYERS. We thank your honour.
- LORD. Do you intend to stay with me to-night?
- PLAYER. So please your lordship to accept our duty.
- LORD. With all my heart. This fellow I remember
- Since once he play'd a farmer's eldest son;
- 'Twas where you woo'd the gentlewoman so well.
- I have forgot your name; but, sure, that part
- Was aptly fitted and naturally perform'd.
- PLAYER. I think 'twas Soto that your honour means.
- LORD. 'Tis very true; thou didst it excellent.
- Well, you are come to me in happy time,
- The rather for I have some sport in hand
- Wherein your cunning can assist me much.
- There is a lord will hear you play to-night;
- But I am doubtful of your modesties,
- Lest, over-eying of his odd behaviour,
- For yet his honour never heard a play,
- You break into some merry passion
- And so offend him; for I tell you, sirs,
- If you should smile, he grows impatient.
- PLAYER. Fear not, my lord; we can contain ourselves,
- Were he the veriest antic in the world.
- LORD. Go, sirrah, take them to the buttery,
- And give them friendly welcome every one;
- Let them want nothing that my house affords.
- Exit one with the PLAYERS
- Sirrah, go you to Bartholomew my page,
- And see him dress'd in all suits like a lady;
- That done, conduct him to the drunkard's chamber,
- And call him 'madam,' do him obeisance.
- Tell him from me- as he will win my love-
- He bear himself with honourable action,
- Such as he hath observ'd in noble ladies
- Unto their lords, by them accomplished;
- Such duty to the drunkard let him do,
- With soft low tongue and lowly courtesy,
- And say 'What is't your honour will command,
- Wherein your lady and your humble wife
- May show her duty and make known her love?'
- And then with kind embracements, tempting kisses,
- And with declining head into his bosom,
- Bid him shed tears, as being overjoyed
- To see her noble lord restor'd to health,
- Who for this seven years hath esteemed him
- No better than a poor and loathsome beggar.
- And if the boy have not a woman's gift
- To rain a shower of commanded tears,
- An onion will do well for such a shift,
- Which, in a napkin being close convey'd,
- Shall in despite enforce a watery eye.
- See this dispatch'd with all the haste thou canst;
- Anon I'll give thee more instructions. Exit a SERVINGMAN
- I know the boy will well usurp the grace,
- Voice, gait, and action, of a gentlewoman;
- I long to hear him call the drunkard 'husband';
- And how my men will stay themselves from laughter
- When they do homage to this simple peasant.
- I'll in to counsel them; haply my presence
- May well abate the over-merry spleen,
- Which otherwise would grow into extremes. Exeunt
-
-SC_2
- SCENE II.
- A bedchamber in the LORD'S house
-
- Enter aloft SLY, with ATTENDANTS; some with apparel, basin
- and ewer, and other appurtenances; and LORD
-
- SLY. For God's sake, a pot of small ale.
- FIRST SERVANT. Will't please your lordship drink a cup of sack?
- SECOND SERVANT. Will't please your honour taste of these conserves?
- THIRD SERVANT. What raiment will your honour wear to-day?
- SLY. I am Christophero Sly; call not me 'honour' nor 'lordship.' I
- ne'er drank sack in my life; and if you give me any conserves,
- give me conserves of beef. Ne'er ask me what raiment I'll wear,
- for I have no more doublets than backs, no more stockings than
- legs, nor no more shoes than feet- nay, sometime more feet than
- shoes, or such shoes as my toes look through the overleather.
- LORD. Heaven cease this idle humour in your honour!
- O, that a mighty man of such descent,
- Of such possessions, and so high esteem,
- Should be infused with so foul a spirit!
- SLY. What, would you make me mad? Am not I Christopher Sly, old
- Sly's son of Burton Heath; by birth a pedlar, by education a
- cardmaker, by transmutation a bear-herd, and now by present
- profession a tinker? Ask Marian Hacket, the fat ale-wife of
- Wincot, if she know me not; if she say I am not fourteen pence on
- the score for sheer ale, score me up for the lying'st knave in
- Christendom. What! I am not bestraught. [Taking a pot of ale]
- Here's-
- THIRD SERVANT. O, this it is that makes your lady mourn!
- SECOND SERVANT. O, this is it that makes your servants droop!
- LORD. Hence comes it that your kindred shuns your house,
- As beaten hence by your strange lunacy.
- O noble lord, bethink thee of thy birth!
- Call home thy ancient thoughts from banishment,
- And banish hence these abject lowly dreams.
- Look how thy servants do attend on thee,
- Each in his office ready at thy beck.
- Wilt thou have music? Hark! Apollo plays, [Music]
- And twenty caged nightingales do sing.
- Or wilt thou sleep? We'll have thee to a couch
- Softer and sweeter than the lustful bed
- On purpose trimm'd up for Semiramis.
- Say thou wilt walk: we will bestrew the ground.
- Or wilt thou ride? Thy horses shall be trapp'd,
- Their harness studded all with gold and pearl.
- Dost thou love hawking? Thou hast hawks will soar
- Above the morning lark. Or wilt thou hunt?
- Thy hounds shall make the welkin answer them
- And fetch shall echoes from the hollow earth.
- FIRST SERVANT. Say thou wilt course; thy greyhounds are as swift
- As breathed stags; ay, fleeter than the roe.
- SECOND SERVANT. Dost thou love pictures? We will fetch thee
- straight
- Adonis painted by a running brook,
- And Cytherea all in sedges hid,
- Which seem to move and wanton with her breath
- Even as the waving sedges play wi' th' wind.
- LORD. We'll show thee lo as she was a maid
- And how she was beguiled and surpris'd,
- As lively painted as the deed was done.
- THIRD SERVANT. Or Daphne roaming through a thorny wood,
- Scratching her legs, that one shall swear she bleeds
- And at that sight shall sad Apollo weep,
- So workmanly the blood and tears are drawn.
- LORD. Thou art a lord, and nothing but a lord.
- Thou hast a lady far more beautiful
- Than any woman in this waning age.
- FIRST SERVANT. And, till the tears that she hath shed for thee
- Like envious floods o'er-run her lovely face,
- She was the fairest creature in the world;
- And yet she is inferior to none.
- SLY. Am I a lord and have I such a lady?
- Or do I dream? Or have I dream'd till now?
- I do not sleep: I see, I hear, I speak;
- I smell sweet savours, and I feel soft things.
- Upon my life, I am a lord indeed,
- And not a tinker, nor Christopher Sly.
- Well, bring our lady hither to our sight;
- And once again, a pot o' th' smallest ale.
- SECOND SERVANT. Will't please your Mightiness to wash your hands?
- O, how we joy to see your wit restor'd!
- O, that once more you knew but what you are!
- These fifteen years you have been in a dream;
- Or, when you wak'd, so wak'd as if you slept.
- SLY. These fifteen years! by my fay, a goodly nap.
- But did I never speak of all that time?
- FIRST SERVANT. O, yes, my lord, but very idle words;
- For though you lay here in this goodly chamber,
- Yet would you say ye were beaten out of door;
- And rail upon the hostess of the house,
- And say you would present her at the leet,
- Because she brought stone jugs and no seal'd quarts.
- Sometimes you would call out for Cicely Hacket.
- SLY. Ay, the woman's maid of the house.
- THIRD SERVANT. Why, sir, you know no house nor no such maid,
- Nor no such men as you have reckon'd up,
- As Stephen Sly, and old John Naps of Greece,
- And Peter Turph, and Henry Pimpernell;
- And twenty more such names and men as these,
- Which never were, nor no man ever saw.
- SLY. Now, Lord be thanked for my good amends!
- ALL. Amen.
-
- Enter the PAGE as a lady, with ATTENDANTS
-
- SLY. I thank thee; thou shalt not lose by it.
- PAGE. How fares my noble lord?
- SLY. Marry, I fare well; for here is cheer enough.
- Where is my wife?
- PAGE. Here, noble lord; what is thy will with her?
- SLY. Are you my wife, and will not call me husband?
- My men should call me 'lord'; I am your goodman.
- PAGE. My husband and my lord, my lord and husband;
- I am your wife in all obedience.
- SLY. I know it well. What must I call her?
- LORD. Madam.
- SLY. Al'ce madam, or Joan madam?
- LORD. Madam, and nothing else; so lords call ladies.
- SLY. Madam wife, they say that I have dream'd
- And slept above some fifteen year or more.
- PAGE. Ay, and the time seems thirty unto me,
- Being all this time abandon'd from your bed.
- SLY. 'Tis much. Servants, leave me and her alone.
- Exeunt SERVANTS
- Madam, undress you, and come now to bed.
- PAGE. Thrice noble lord, let me entreat of you
- To pardon me yet for a night or two;
- Or, if not so, until the sun be set.
- For your physicians have expressly charg'd,
- In peril to incur your former malady,
- That I should yet absent me from your bed.
- I hope this reason stands for my excuse.
- SLY. Ay, it stands so that I may hardly tarry so long. But I would
- be loath to fall into my dreams again. I will therefore tarry in
- despite of the flesh and the blood.
-
- Enter a MESSENGER
-
- MESSENGER. Your honour's players, hearing your amendment,
- Are come to play a pleasant comedy;
- For so your doctors hold it very meet,
- Seeing too much sadness hath congeal'd your blood,
- And melancholy is the nurse of frenzy.
- Therefore they thought it good you hear a play
- And frame your mind to mirth and merriment,
- Which bars a thousand harms and lengthens life.
- SLY. Marry, I will; let them play it. Is not a comonty a
- Christmas gambold or a tumbling-trick?
- PAGE. No, my good lord, it is more pleasing stuff.
- SLY. What, household stuff?
- PAGE. It is a kind of history.
- SLY. Well, we'll see't. Come, madam wife, sit by my side and let
- the world slip;-we shall ne'er be younger.
- [They sit down]
-
- A flourish of trumpets announces the play
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-ACT I. SCENE I.
-Padua. A public place
-
-Enter LUCENTIO and his man TRANIO
-
- LUCENTIO. Tranio, since for the great desire I had
- To see fair Padua, nursery of arts,
- I am arriv'd for fruitful Lombardy,
- The pleasant garden of great Italy,
- And by my father's love and leave am arm'd
- With his good will and thy good company,
- My trusty servant well approv'd in all,
- Here let us breathe, and haply institute
- A course of learning and ingenious studies.
- Pisa, renowned for grave citizens,
- Gave me my being and my father first,
- A merchant of great traffic through the world,
- Vincentio, come of the Bentivolii;
- Vincentio's son, brought up in Florence,
- It shall become to serve all hopes conceiv'd,
- To deck his fortune with his virtuous deeds.
- And therefore, Tranio, for the time I study,
- Virtue and that part of philosophy
- Will I apply that treats of happiness
- By virtue specially to be achiev'd.
- Tell me thy mind; for I have Pisa left
- And am to Padua come as he that leaves
- A shallow plash to plunge him in the deep,
- And with satiety seeks to quench his thirst.
- TRANIO. Mi perdonato, gentle master mine;
- I am in all affected as yourself;
- Glad that you thus continue your resolve
- To suck the sweets of sweet philosophy.
- Only, good master, while we do admire
- This virtue and this moral discipline,
- Let's be no Stoics nor no stocks, I pray,
- Or so devote to Aristotle's checks
- As Ovid be an outcast quite abjur'd.
- Balk logic with acquaintance that you have,
- And practise rhetoric in your common talk;
- Music and poesy use to quicken you;
- The mathematics and the metaphysics,
- Fall to them as you find your stomach serves you.
- No profit grows where is no pleasure ta'en;
- In brief, sir, study what you most affect.
- LUCENTIO. Gramercies, Tranio, well dost thou advise.
- If, Biondello, thou wert come ashore,
- We could at once put us in readiness,
- And take a lodging fit to entertain
- Such friends as time in Padua shall beget.
-
- Enter BAPTISTA with his two daughters, KATHERINA
- and BIANCA; GREMIO, a pantaloon; HORTENSIO,
- suitor to BIANCA. LUCENTIO and TRANIO stand by
-
- But stay awhile; what company is this?
- TRANIO. Master, some show to welcome us to town.
- BAPTISTA. Gentlemen, importune me no farther,
- For how I firmly am resolv'd you know;
- That is, not to bestow my youngest daughter
- Before I have a husband for the elder.
- If either of you both love Katherina,
- Because I know you well and love you well,
- Leave shall you have to court her at your pleasure.
- GREMIO. To cart her rather. She's too rough for me.
- There, there, Hortensio, will you any wife?
- KATHERINA. [To BAPTISTA] I pray you, sir, is it your will
- To make a stale of me amongst these mates?
- HORTENSIO. Mates, maid! How mean you that? No mates for you,
- Unless you were of gentler, milder mould.
- KATHERINA. I' faith, sir, you shall never need to fear;
- Iwis it is not halfway to her heart;
- But if it were, doubt not her care should be
- To comb your noddle with a three-legg'd stool,
- And paint your face, and use you like a fool.
- HORTENSIO. From all such devils, good Lord deliver us!
- GREMIO. And me, too, good Lord!
- TRANIO. Husht, master! Here's some good pastime toward;
- That wench is stark mad or wonderful froward.
- LUCENTIO. But in the other's silence do I see
- Maid's mild behaviour and sobriety.
- Peace, Tranio!
- TRANIO. Well said, master; mum! and gaze your fill.
- BAPTISTA. Gentlemen, that I may soon make good
- What I have said- Bianca, get you in;
- And let it not displease thee, good Bianca,
- For I will love thee ne'er the less, my girl.
- KATHERINA. A pretty peat! it is best
- Put finger in the eye, an she knew why.
- BIANCA. Sister, content you in my discontent.
- Sir, to your pleasure humbly I subscribe;
- My books and instruments shall be my company,
- On them to look, and practise by myself.
- LUCENTIO. Hark, Tranio, thou mayst hear Minerva speak!
- HORTENSIO. Signior Baptista, will you be so strange?
- Sorry am I that our good will effects
- Bianca's grief.
- GREMIO. Why will you mew her up,
- Signior Baptista, for this fiend of hell,
- And make her bear the penance of her tongue?
- BAPTISTA. Gentlemen, content ye; I am resolv'd.
- Go in, Bianca. Exit BIANCA
- And for I know she taketh most delight
- In music, instruments, and poetry,
- Schoolmasters will I keep within my house
- Fit to instruct her youth. If you, Hortensio,
- Or, Signior Gremio, you, know any such,
- Prefer them hither; for to cunning men
- I will be very kind, and liberal
- To mine own children in good bringing-up;
- And so, farewell. Katherina, you may stay;
- For I have more to commune with Bianca. Exit
- KATHERINA. Why, and I trust I may go too, may I not?
- What! shall I be appointed hours, as though, belike,
- I knew not what to take and what to leave? Ha! Exit
- GREMIO. You may go to the devil's dam; your gifts are so good
- here's none will hold you. There! Love is not so great,
- Hortensio, but we may blow our nails together, and fast it fairly
- out; our cake's dough on both sides. Farewell; yet, for the love
- I bear my sweet Bianca, if I can by any means light on a fit man
- to teach her that wherein she delights, I will wish him to her
- father.
- HORTENSIO. SO Will I, Signior Gremio; but a word, I pray. Though
- the nature of our quarrel yet never brook'd parle, know now, upon
- advice, it toucheth us both- that we may yet again have access to
- our fair mistress, and be happy rivals in Bianca's love- to
- labour and effect one thing specially.
- GREMIO. What's that, I pray?
- HORTENSIO. Marry, sir, to get a husband for her sister.
- GREMIO. A husband? a devil.
- HORTENSIO. I say a husband.
- GREMIO. I say a devil. Think'st thou, Hortensio, though her father
- be very rich, any man is so very a fool to be married to hell?
- HORTENSIO. Tush, Gremio! Though it pass your patience and mine to
- endure her loud alarums, why, man, there be good fellows in the
- world, an a man could light on them, would take her with all
- faults, and money enough.
- GREMIO. I cannot tell; but I had as lief take her dowry with this
- condition: to be whipp'd at the high cross every morning.
- HORTENSIO. Faith, as you say, there's small choice in rotten
- apples. But, come; since this bar in law makes us friends, it
- shall be so far forth friendly maintain'd till by helping
- Baptista's eldest daughter to a husband we set his youngest free
- for a husband, and then have to't afresh. Sweet Bianca! Happy man
- be his dole! He that runs fastest gets the ring. How say you,
- Signior Gremio?
- GREMIO. I am agreed; and would I had given him the best horse in
- Padua to begin his wooing that would thoroughly woo her, wed her,
- and bed her, and rid the house of her! Come on.
- Exeunt GREMIO and HORTENSIO
- TRANIO. I pray, sir, tell me, is it possible
- That love should of a sudden take such hold?
- LUCENTIO. O Tranio, till I found it to be true,
- I never thought it possible or likely.
- But see! while idly I stood looking on,
- I found the effect of love in idleness;
- And now in plainness do confess to thee,
- That art to me as secret and as dear
- As Anna to the Queen of Carthage was-
- Tranio, I burn, I pine, I perish, Tranio,
- If I achieve not this young modest girl.
- Counsel me, Tranio, for I know thou canst;
- Assist me, Tranio, for I know thou wilt.
- TRANIO. Master, it is no time to chide you now;
- Affection is not rated from the heart;
- If love have touch'd you, nought remains but so:
- 'Redime te captum quam queas minimo.'
- LUCENTIO. Gramercies, lad. Go forward; this contents;
- The rest will comfort, for thy counsel's sound.
- TRANIO. Master, you look'd so longly on the maid.
- Perhaps you mark'd not what's the pith of all.
- LUCENTIO. O, yes, I saw sweet beauty in her face,
- Such as the daughter of Agenor had,
- That made great Jove to humble him to her hand,
- When with his knees he kiss'd the Cretan strand.
- TRANIO. Saw you no more? Mark'd you not how her sister
- Began to scold and raise up such a storm
- That mortal ears might hardly endure the din?
- LUCENTIO. Tranio, I saw her coral lips to move,
- And with her breath she did perfume the air;
- Sacred and sweet was all I saw in her.
- TRANIO. Nay, then 'tis time to stir him from his trance.
- I pray, awake, sir. If you love the maid,
- Bend thoughts and wits to achieve her. Thus it stands:
- Her elder sister is so curst and shrewd
- That, till the father rid his hands of her,
- Master, your love must live a maid at home;
- And therefore has he closely mew'd her up,
- Because she will not be annoy'd with suitors.
- LUCENTIO. Ah, Tranio, what a cruel father's he!
- But art thou not advis'd he took some care
- To get her cunning schoolmasters to instruct her?
- TRANIO. Ay, marry, am I, sir, and now 'tis plotted.
- LUCENTIO. I have it, Tranio.
- TRANIO. Master, for my hand,
- Both our inventions meet and jump in one.
- LUCENTIO. Tell me thine first.
- TRANIO. You will be schoolmaster,
- And undertake the teaching of the maid-
- That's your device.
- LUCENTIO. It is. May it be done?
- TRANIO. Not possible; for who shall bear your part
- And be in Padua here Vincentio's son;
- Keep house and ply his book, welcome his friends,
- Visit his countrymen, and banquet them?
- LUCENTIO. Basta, content thee, for I have it full.
- We have not yet been seen in any house,
- Nor can we be distinguish'd by our faces
- For man or master. Then it follows thus:
- Thou shalt be master, Tranio, in my stead,
- Keep house and port and servants, as I should;
- I will some other be- some Florentine,
- Some Neapolitan, or meaner man of Pisa.
- 'Tis hatch'd, and shall be so. Tranio, at once
- Uncase thee; take my colour'd hat and cloak.
- When Biondello comes, he waits on thee;
- But I will charm him first to keep his tongue.
- TRANIO. So had you need. [They exchange habits]
- In brief, sir, sith it your pleasure is,
- And I am tied to be obedient-
- For so your father charg'd me at our parting:
- 'Be serviceable to my son' quoth he,
- Although I think 'twas in another sense-
- I am content to be Lucentio,
- Because so well I love Lucentio.
- LUCENTIO. Tranio, be so because Lucentio loves;
- And let me be a slave t' achieve that maid
- Whose sudden sight hath thrall'd my wounded eye.
-
- Enter BIONDELLO.
-
- Here comes the rogue. Sirrah, where have you been?
- BIONDELLO. Where have I been! Nay, how now! where are you?
- Master, has my fellow Tranio stol'n your clothes?
- Or you stol'n his? or both? Pray, what's the news?
- LUCENTIO. Sirrah, come hither; 'tis no time to jest,
- And therefore frame your manners to the time.
- Your fellow Tranio here, to save my life,
- Puts my apparel and my count'nance on,
- And I for my escape have put on his;
- For in a quarrel since I came ashore
- I kill'd a man, and fear I was descried.
- Wait you on him, I charge you, as becomes,
- While I make way from hence to save my life.
- You understand me?
- BIONDELLO. I, sir? Ne'er a whit.
- LUCENTIO. And not a jot of Tranio in your mouth:
- Tranio is chang'd into Lucentio.
- BIONDELLO. The better for him; would I were so too!
- TRANIO. So could I, faith, boy, to have the next wish after,
- That Lucentio indeed had Baptista's youngest daughter.
- But, sirrah, not for my sake but your master's, I advise
- You use your manners discreetly in all kind of companies.
- When I am alone, why, then I am Tranio;
- But in all places else your master Lucentio.
- LUCENTIO. Tranio, let's go.
- One thing more rests, that thyself execute-
- To make one among these wooers. If thou ask me why-
- Sufficeth, my reasons are both good and weighty. Exeunt
-
- The Presenters above speak
-
- FIRST SERVANT. My lord, you nod; you do not mind the play.
- SLY. Yes, by Saint Anne do I. A good matter, surely; comes there
- any more of it?
- PAGE. My lord, 'tis but begun.
- SLY. 'Tis a very excellent piece of work, madam lady
- Would 'twere done! [They sit and mark]
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-Padua. Before HORTENSIO'S house
-
-Enter PETRUCHIO and his man GRUMIO
-
- PETRUCHIO. Verona, for a while I take my leave,
- To see my friends in Padua; but of all
- My best beloved and approved friend,
- Hortensio; and I trow this is his house.
- Here, sirrah Grumio, knock, I say.
- GRUMIO. Knock, sir! Whom should I knock?
- Is there any man has rebus'd your worship?
- PETRUCHIO. Villain, I say, knock me here soundly.
- GRUMIO. Knock you here, sir? Why, sir, what am I, sir, that I
- should knock you here, sir?
- PETRUCHIO. Villain, I say, knock me at this gate,
- And rap me well, or I'll knock your knave's pate.
- GRUMIO. My master is grown quarrelsome. I should knock you first,
- And then I know after who comes by the worst.
- PETRUCHIO. Will it not be?
- Faith, sirrah, an you'll not knock I'll ring it;
- I'll try how you can sol-fa, and sing it.
- [He wrings him by the ears]
- GRUMIO. Help, masters, help! My master is mad.
- PETRUCHIO. Now knock when I bid you, sirrah villain!
-
- Enter HORTENSIO
-
- HORTENSIO. How now! what's the matter? My old friend Grumio and my
- good friend Petruchio! How do you all at Verona?
- PETRUCHIO. Signior Hortensio, come you to part the fray?
- 'Con tutto il cuore ben trovato' may I say.
- HORTENSIO. Alla nostra casa ben venuto,
- Molto honorato signor mio Petruchio.
- Rise, Grumio, rise; we will compound this quarrel.
- GRUMIO. Nay, 'tis no matter, sir, what he 'leges in Latin. If this
- be not a lawful cause for me to leave his service- look you, sir:
- he bid me knock him and rap him soundly, sir. Well, was it fit
- for a servant to use his master so; being, perhaps, for aught I
- see, two and thirty, a pip out?
- Whom would to God I had well knock'd at first,
- Then had not Grumio come by the worst.
- PETRUCHIO. A senseless villain! Good Hortensio,
- I bade the rascal knock upon your gate,
- And could not get him for my heart to do it.
- GRUMIO. Knock at the gate? O heavens! Spake you not these words
- plain: 'Sirrah knock me here, rap me here, knock me well, and
- knock me soundly'? And come you now with 'knocking at the gate'?
- PETRUCHIO. Sirrah, be gone, or talk not, I advise you.
- HORTENSIO. Petruchio, patience; I am Grumio's pledge;
- Why, this's a heavy chance 'twixt him and you,
- Your ancient, trusty, pleasant servant Grumio.
- And tell me now, sweet friend, what happy gale
- Blows you to Padua here from old Verona?
- PETRUCHIO. Such wind as scatters young men through the world
- To seek their fortunes farther than at home,
- Where small experience grows. But in a few,
- Signior Hortensio, thus it stands with me:
- Antonio, my father, is deceas'd,
- And I have thrust myself into this maze,
- Haply to wive and thrive as best I may;
- Crowns in my purse I have, and goods at home,
- And so am come abroad to see the world.
- HORTENSIO. Petruchio, shall I then come roundly to thee
- And wish thee to a shrewd ill-favour'd wife?
- Thou'dst thank me but a little for my counsel,
- And yet I'll promise thee she shall be rich,
- And very rich; but th'art too much my friend,
- And I'll not wish thee to her.
- PETRUCHIO. Signior Hortensio, 'twixt such friends as we
- Few words suffice; and therefore, if thou know
- One rich enough to be Petruchio's wife,
- As wealth is burden of my wooing dance,
- Be she as foul as was Florentius' love,
- As old as Sibyl, and as curst and shrewd
- As Socrates' Xanthippe or a worse-
- She moves me not, or not removes, at least,
- Affection's edge in me, were she as rough
- As are the swelling Adriatic seas.
- I come to wive it wealthily in Padua;
- If wealthily, then happily in Padua.
- GRUMIO. Nay, look you, sir, he tells you flatly what his mind is.
- Why, give him gold enough and marry him to a puppet or an
- aglet-baby, or an old trot with ne'er a tooth in her head, though
- she has as many diseases as two and fifty horses. Why, nothing
- comes amiss, so money comes withal.
- HORTENSIO. Petruchio, since we are stepp'd thus far in,
- I will continue that I broach'd in jest.
- I can, Petruchio, help thee to a wife
- With wealth enough, and young and beauteous;
- Brought up as best becomes a gentlewoman;
- Her only fault, and that is faults enough,
- Is- that she is intolerable curst,
- And shrewd and froward so beyond all measure
- That, were my state far worser than it is,
- I would not wed her for a mine of gold.
- PETRUCHIO. Hortensio, peace! thou know'st not gold's effect.
- Tell me her father's name, and 'tis enough;
- For I will board her though she chide as loud
- As thunder when the clouds in autumn crack.
- HORTENSIO. Her father is Baptista Minola,
- An affable and courteous gentleman;
- Her name is Katherina Minola,
- Renown'd in Padua for her scolding tongue.
- PETRUCHIO. I know her father, though I know not her;
- And he knew my deceased father well.
- I will not sleep, Hortensio, till I see her;
- And therefore let me be thus bold with you
- To give you over at this first encounter,
- Unless you will accompany me thither.
- GRUMIO. I pray you, sir, let him go while the humour lasts. O' my
- word, and she knew him as well as I do, she would think scolding
- would do little good upon him. She may perhaps call him half a
- score knaves or so. Why, that's nothing; and he begin once, he'll
- rail in his rope-tricks. I'll tell you what, sir: an she stand
- him but a little, he will throw a figure in her face, and so
- disfigure her with it that she shall have no more eyes to see
- withal than a cat. You know him not, sir.
- HORTENSIO. Tarry, Petruchio, I must go with thee,
- For in Baptista's keep my treasure is.
- He hath the jewel of my life in hold,
- His youngest daughter, beautiful Bianca;
- And her withholds from me, and other more,
- Suitors to her and rivals in my love;
- Supposing it a thing impossible-
- For those defects I have before rehears'd-
- That ever Katherina will be woo'd.
- Therefore this order hath Baptista ta'en,
- That none shall have access unto Bianca
- Till Katherine the curst have got a husband.
- GRUMIO. Katherine the curst!
- A title for a maid of all titles the worst.
- HORTENSIO. Now shall my friend Petruchio do me grace,
- And offer me disguis'd in sober robes
- To old Baptista as a schoolmaster
- Well seen in music, to instruct Bianca;
- That so I may by this device at least
- Have leave and leisure to make love to her,
- And unsuspected court her by herself.
-
- Enter GREMIO with LUCENTIO disguised as CAMBIO
-
- GRUMIO. Here's no knavery! See, to beguile the old folks, how the
- young folks lay their heads together! Master, master, look about
- you. Who goes there, ha?
- HORTENSIO. Peace, Grumio! It is the rival of my love. Petruchio,
- stand by awhile.
- GRUMIO. A proper stripling, and an amorous!
- [They stand aside]
- GREMIO. O, very well; I have perus'd the note.
- Hark you, sir; I'll have them very fairly bound-
- All books of love, see that at any hand;
- And see you read no other lectures to her.
- You understand me- over and beside
- Signior Baptista's liberality,
- I'll mend it with a largess. Take your paper too,
- And let me have them very well perfum'd;
- For she is sweeter than perfume itself
- To whom they go to. What will you read to her?
- LUCENTIO. Whate'er I read to her, I'll plead for you
- As for my patron, stand you so assur'd,
- As firmly as yourself were still in place;
- Yea, and perhaps with more successful words
- Than you, unless you were a scholar, sir.
- GREMIO. O this learning, what a thing it is!
- GRUMIO. O this woodcock, what an ass it is!
- PETRUCHIO. Peace, sirrah!
- HORTENSIO. Grumio, mum! [Coming forward]
- God save you, Signior Gremio!
- GREMIO. And you are well met, Signior Hortensio.
- Trow you whither I am going? To Baptista Minola.
- I promis'd to enquire carefully
- About a schoolmaster for the fair Bianca;
- And by good fortune I have lighted well
- On this young man; for learning and behaviour
- Fit for her turn, well read in poetry
- And other books- good ones, I warrant ye.
- HORTENSIO. 'Tis well; and I have met a gentleman
- Hath promis'd me to help me to another,
- A fine musician to instruct our mistress;
- So shall I no whit be behind in duty
- To fair Bianca, so beloved of me.
- GREMIO. Beloved of me- and that my deeds shall prove.
- GRUMIO. And that his bags shall prove.
- HORTENSIO. Gremio, 'tis now no time to vent our love.
- Listen to me, and if you speak me fair
- I'll tell you news indifferent good for either.
- Here is a gentleman whom by chance I met,
- Upon agreement from us to his liking,
- Will undertake to woo curst Katherine;
- Yea, and to marry her, if her dowry please.
- GREMIO. So said, so done, is well.
- Hortensio, have you told him all her faults?
- PETRUCHIO. I know she is an irksome brawling scold;
- If that be all, masters, I hear no harm.
- GREMIO. No, say'st me so, friend? What countryman?
- PETRUCHIO. Born in Verona, old Antonio's son.
- My father dead, my fortune lives for me;
- And I do hope good days and long to see.
- GREMIO. O Sir, such a life with such a wife were strange!
- But if you have a stomach, to't a God's name;
- You shall have me assisting you in all.
- But will you woo this wild-cat?
- PETRUCHIO. Will I live?
- GRUMIO. Will he woo her? Ay, or I'll hang her.
- PETRUCHIO. Why came I hither but to that intent?
- Think you a little din can daunt mine ears?
- Have I not in my time heard lions roar?
- Have I not heard the sea, puff'd up with winds,
- Rage like an angry boar chafed with sweat?
- Have I not heard great ordnance in the field,
- And heaven's artillery thunder in the skies?
- Have I not in a pitched battle heard
- Loud 'larums, neighing steeds, and trumpets' clang?
- And do you tell me of a woman's tongue,
- That gives not half so great a blow to hear
- As will a chestnut in a fariner's fire?
- Tush! tush! fear boys with bugs.
- GRUMIO. For he fears none.
- GREMIO. Hortensio, hark:
- This gentleman is happily arriv'd,
- My mind presumes, for his own good and ours.
- HORTENSIO. I promis'd we would be contributors
- And bear his charge of wooing, whatsoe'er.
- GREMIO. And so we will- provided that he win her.
- GRUMIO. I would I were as sure of a good dinner.
-
- Enter TRANIO, bravely apparelled as LUCENTIO, and BIONDELLO
-
- TRANIO. Gentlemen, God save you! If I may be bold,
- Tell me, I beseech you, which is the readiest way
- To the house of Signior Baptista Minola?
- BIONDELLO. He that has the two fair daughters; is't he you mean?
- TRANIO. Even he, Biondello.
- GREMIO. Hark you, sir, you mean not her to-
- TRANIO. Perhaps him and her, sir; what have you to do?
- PETRUCHIO. Not her that chides, sir, at any hand, I pray.
- TRANIO. I love no chiders, sir. Biondello, let's away.
- LUCENTIO. [Aside] Well begun, Tranio.
- HORTENSIO. Sir, a word ere you go.
- Are you a suitor to the maid you talk of, yea or no?
- TRANIO. And if I be, sir, is it any offence?
- GREMIO. No; if without more words you will get you hence.
- TRANIO. Why, sir, I pray, are not the streets as free
- For me as for you?
- GREMIO. But so is not she.
-
- TRANIO. For what reason, I beseech you?
- GREMIO. For this reason, if you'll know,
- That she's the choice love of Signior Gremio.
- HORTENSIO. That she's the chosen of Signior Hortensio.
- TRANIO. Softly, my masters! If you be gentlemen,
- Do me this right- hear me with patience.
- Baptista is a noble gentleman,
- To whom my father is not all unknown,
- And, were his daughter fairer than she is,
- She may more suitors have, and me for one.
- Fair Leda's daughter had a thousand wooers;
- Then well one more may fair Bianca have;
- And so she shall: Lucentio shall make one,
- Though Paris came in hope to speed alone.
- GREMIO. What, this gentleman will out-talk us all!
- LUCENTIO. Sir, give him head; I know he'll prove a jade.
- PETRUCHIO. Hortensio, to what end are all these words?
- HORTENSIO. Sir, let me be so bold as ask you,
- Did you yet ever see Baptista's daughter?
- TRANIO. No, sir, but hear I do that he hath two:
- The one as famous for a scolding tongue
- As is the other for beauteous modesty.
- PETRUCHIO. Sir, sir, the first's for me; let her go by.
- GREMIO. Yea, leave that labour to great Hercules,
- And let it be more than Alcides' twelve.
- PETRUCHIO. Sir, understand you this of me, in sooth:
- The youngest daughter, whom you hearken for,
- Her father keeps from all access of suitors,
- And will not promise her to any man
- Until the elder sister first be wed.
- The younger then is free, and not before.
- TRANIO. If it be so, sir, that you are the man
- Must stead us all, and me amongst the rest;
- And if you break the ice, and do this feat,
- Achieve the elder, set the younger free
- For our access- whose hap shall be to have her
- Will not so graceless be to be ingrate.
- HORTENSIO. Sir, you say well, and well you do conceive;
- And since you do profess to be a suitor,
- You must, as we do, gratify this gentleman,
- To whom we all rest generally beholding.
- TRANIO. Sir, I shall not be slack; in sign whereof,
- Please ye we may contrive this afternoon,
- And quaff carouses to our mistress' health;
- And do as adversaries do in law-
- Strive mightily, but eat and drink as friends.
- GRUMIO, BIONDELLO. O excellent motion! Fellows, let's be gone.
- HORTENSIO. The motion's good indeed, and be it so.
- Petruchio, I shall be your ben venuto. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-ACT Il. SCENE I.
-Padua. BAPTISTA'S house
-
-Enter KATHERINA and BIANCA
-
- BIANCA. Good sister, wrong me not, nor wrong yourself,
- To make a bondmaid and a slave of me-
- That I disdain; but for these other gawds,
- Unbind my hands, I'll pull them off myself,
- Yea, all my raiment, to my petticoat;
- Or what you will command me will I do,
- So well I know my duty to my elders.
- KATHERINA. Of all thy suitors here I charge thee tell
- Whom thou lov'st best. See thou dissemble not.
- BIANCA. Believe me, sister, of all the men alive
- I never yet beheld that special face
- Which I could fancy more than any other.
- KATHERINA. Minion, thou liest. Is't not Hortensio?
- BIANCA. If you affect him, sister, here I swear
- I'll plead for you myself but you shall have him.
- KATHERINA. O then, belike, you fancy riches more:
- You will have Gremio to keep you fair.
- BIANCA. Is it for him you do envy me so?
- Nay, then you jest; and now I well perceive
- You have but jested with me all this while.
- I prithee, sister Kate, untie my hands.
- KATHERINA. [Strikes her] If that be jest, then an the rest was so.
-
- Enter BAPTISTA
-
- BAPTISTA. Why, how now, dame! Whence grows this insolence?
- Bianca, stand aside- poor girl! she weeps.
- [He unbinds her]
- Go ply thy needle; meddle not with her.
- For shame, thou hilding of a devilish spirit,
- Why dost thou wrong her that did ne'er wrong thee?
- When did she cross thee with a bitter word?
- KATHERINA. Her silence flouts me, and I'll be reveng'd.
- [Flies after BIANCA]
- BAPTISTA. What, in my sight? Bianca, get thee in.
- Exit BIANCA
- KATHERINA. What, will you not suffer me? Nay, now I see
- She is your treasure, she must have a husband;
- I must dance bare-foot on her wedding-day,
- And for your love to her lead apes in hell.
- Talk not to me; I will go sit and weep,
- Till I can find occasion of revenge. Exit KATHERINA
- BAPTISTA. Was ever gentleman thus griev'd as I?
- But who comes here?
-
- Enter GREMIO, with LUCENTIO in the habit of a mean man;
- PETRUCHIO, with HORTENSIO as a musician; and TRANIO,
- as LUCENTIO, with his boy, BIONDELLO, bearing a lute and books
-
- GREMIO. Good morrow, neighbour Baptista.
- BAPTISTA. Good morrow, neighbour Gremio.
- God save you, gentlemen!
- PETRUCHIO. And you, good sir! Pray, have you not a daughter
- Call'd Katherina, fair and virtuous?
- BAPTISTA. I have a daughter, sir, call'd Katherina.
- GREMIO. You are too blunt; go to it orderly.
- PETRUCHIO. You wrong me, Signior Gremio; give me leave.
- I am a gentleman of Verona, sir,
- That, hearing of her beauty and her wit,
- Her affability and bashful modesty,
- Her wondrous qualities and mild behaviour,
- Am bold to show myself a forward guest
- Within your house, to make mine eye the witness
- Of that report which I so oft have heard.
- And, for an entrance to my entertainment,
- I do present you with a man of mine,
- [Presenting HORTENSIO]
- Cunning in music and the mathematics,
- To instruct her fully in those sciences,
- Whereof I know she is not ignorant.
- Accept of him, or else you do me wrong-
- His name is Licio, born in Mantua.
- BAPTISTA. Y'are welcome, sir, and he for your good sake;
- But for my daughter Katherine, this I know,
- She is not for your turn, the more my grief.
- PETRUCHIO. I see you do not mean to part with her;
- Or else you like not of my company.
- BAPTISTA. Mistake me not; I speak but as I find.
- Whence are you, sir? What may I call your name?
- PETRUCHIO. Petruchio is my name, Antonio's son,
- A man well known throughout all Italy.
- BAPTISTA. I know him well; you are welcome for his sake.
- GREMIO. Saving your tale, Petruchio, I pray,
- Let us that are poor petitioners speak too.
- Bacare! you are marvellous forward.
- PETRUCHIO. O, pardon me, Signior Gremio! I would fain be doing.
- GREMIO. I doubt it not, sir; but you will curse your wooing.
- Neighbour, this is a gift very grateful, I am sure of it. To
- express the like kindness, myself, that have been more kindly
- beholding to you than any, freely give unto you this young
- scholar [Presenting LUCENTIO] that hath been long studying at
- Rheims; as cunning in Greek, Latin, and other languages, as the
- other in music and mathematics. His name is Cambio. Pray accept
- his service.
- BAPTISTA. A thousand thanks, Signior Gremio. Welcome, good Cambio.
- [To TRANIO] But, gentle sir, methinks you walk like a stranger.
- May I be so bold to know the cause of your coming?
- TRANIO. Pardon me, sir, the boldness is mine own
- That, being a stranger in this city here,
- Do make myself a suitor to your daughter,
- Unto Bianca, fair and virtuous.
- Nor is your firm resolve unknown to me
- In the preferment of the eldest sister.
- This liberty is all that I request-
- That, upon knowledge of my parentage,
- I may have welcome 'mongst the rest that woo,
- And free access and favour as the rest.
- And toward the education of your daughters
- I here bestow a simple instrument,
- And this small packet of Greek and Latin books.
- If you accept them, then their worth is great.
- BAPTISTA. Lucentio is your name? Of whence, I pray?
- TRANIO. Of Pisa, sir; son to Vincentio.
- BAPTISTA. A mighty man of Pisa. By report
- I know him well. You are very welcome, sir.
- Take you the lute, and you the set of books;
- You shall go see your pupils presently.
- Holla, within!
-
- Enter a SERVANT
-
- Sirrah, lead these gentlemen
- To my daughters; and tell them both
- These are their tutors. Bid them use them well.
-
- Exit SERVANT leading HORTENSIO carrying the lute
- and LUCENTIO with the books
-
- We will go walk a little in the orchard,
- And then to dinner. You are passing welcome,
- And so I pray you all to think yourselves.
- PETRUCHIO. Signior Baptista, my business asketh haste,
- And every day I cannot come to woo.
- You knew my father well, and in him me,
- Left solely heir to all his lands and goods,
- Which I have bettered rather than decreas'd.
- Then tell me, if I get your daughter's love,
- What dowry shall I have with her to wife?
- BAPTISTA. After my death, the one half of my lands
- And, in possession, twenty thousand crowns.
- PETRUCHIO. And for that dowry, I'll assure her of
- Her widowhood, be it that she survive me,
- In all my lands and leases whatsoever.
- Let specialities be therefore drawn between us,
- That covenants may be kept on either hand.
- BAPTISTA. Ay, when the special thing is well obtain'd,
- That is, her love; for that is all in all.
- PETRUCHIO. Why, that is nothing; for I tell you, father,
- I am as peremptory as she proud-minded;
- And where two raging fires meet together,
- They do consume the thing that feeds their fury.
- Though little fire grows great with little wind,
- Yet extreme gusts will blow out fire and all.
- So I to her, and so she yields to me;
- For I am rough, and woo not like a babe.
- BAPTISTA. Well mayst thou woo, and happy be thy speed
- But be thou arm'd for some unhappy words.
- PETRUCHIO. Ay, to the proof, as mountains are for winds,
- That shake not though they blow perpetually.
-
- Re-enter HORTENSIO, with his head broke
-
- BAPTISTA. How now, my friend! Why dost thou look so pale?
- HORTENSIO. For fear, I promise you, if I look pale.
- BAPTISTA. What, will my daughter prove a good musician?
- HORTENSIO. I think she'll sooner prove a soldier:
- Iron may hold with her, but never lutes.
- BAPTISTA. Why, then thou canst not break her to the lute?
- HORTENSIO. Why, no; for she hath broke the lute to me.
- I did but tell her she mistook her frets,
- And bow'd her hand to teach her fingering,
- When, with a most impatient devilish spirit,
- 'Frets, call you these?' quoth she 'I'll fume with them.'
- And with that word she struck me on the head,
- And through the instrument my pate made way;
- And there I stood amazed for a while,
- As on a pillory, looking through the lute,
- While she did call me rascal fiddler
- And twangling Jack, with twenty such vile terms,
- As she had studied to misuse me so.
- PETRUCHIO. Now, by the world, it is a lusty wench;
- I love her ten times more than e'er I did.
- O, how I long to have some chat with her!
- BAPTISTA. Well, go with me, and be not so discomfited;
- Proceed in practice with my younger daughter;
- She's apt to learn, and thankful for good turns.
- Signior Petruchio, will you go with us,
- Or shall I send my daughter Kate to you?
- PETRUCHIO. I pray you do. Exeunt all but PETRUCHIO
- I'll attend her here,
- And woo her with some spirit when she comes.
- Say that she rail; why, then I'll tell her plain
- She sings as sweetly as a nightingale.
- Say that she frown; I'll say she looks as clear
- As morning roses newly wash'd with dew.
- Say she be mute, and will not speak a word;
- Then I'll commend her volubility,
- And say she uttereth piercing eloquence.
- If she do bid me pack, I'll give her thanks,
- As though she bid me stay by her a week;
- If she deny to wed, I'll crave the day
- When I shall ask the banns, and when be married.
- But here she comes; :Lnd.now, Petruchio, speak.
-
- Enter KATHERINA
-
- Good morrow, Kate- for that's your name, I hear.
- KATHERINA. Well have you heard, but something hard of hearing:
- They call me Katherine that do talk of me.
- PETRUCHIO. You lie, in faith, for you are call'd plain Kate,
- And bonny Kate, and sometimes Kate the curst;
- But, Kate, the prettiest Kate in Christendom,
- Kate of Kate Hall, my super-dainty Kate,
- For dainties are all Kates, and therefore, Kate,
- Take this of me, Kate of my consolation-
- Hearing thy mildness prais'd in every town,
- Thy virtues spoke of, and thy beauty sounded,
- Yet not so deeply as to thee belongs,
- Myself am mov'd to woo thee for my wife.
- KATHERINA. Mov'd! in good time! Let him that mov'd you hither
- Remove you hence. I knew you at the first
- You were a moveable.
- PETRUCHIO. Why, what's a moveable?
- KATHERINA. A join'd-stool.
- PETRUCHIO. Thou hast hit it. Come, sit on me.
- KATHERINA. Asses are made to bear, and so are you.
- PETRUCHIO. Women are made to bear, and so are you.
- KATHERINA. No such jade as you, if me you mean.
- PETRUCHIO. Alas, good Kate, I will not burden thee!
- For, knowing thee to be but young and light-
- KATHERINA. Too light for such a swain as you to catch;
- And yet as heavy as my weight should be.
- PETRUCHIO. Should be! should- buzz!
- KATHERINA. Well ta'en, and like a buzzard.
- PETRUCHIO. O, slow-wing'd turtle, shall a buzzard take thee?
- KATHERINA. Ay, for a turtle, as he takes a buzzard.
- PETRUCHIO. Come, come, you wasp; i' faith, you are too angry.
- KATHERINA. If I be waspish, best beware my sting.
- PETRUCHIO. My remedy is then to pluck it out.
- KATHERINA. Ay, if the fool could find it where it lies.
- PETRUCHIO. Who knows not where a wasp does wear his sting?
- In his tail.
- KATHERINA. In his tongue.
- PETRUCHIO. Whose tongue?
- KATHERINA. Yours, if you talk of tales; and so farewell.
- PETRUCHIO. What, with my tongue in your tail? Nay, come again,
- Good Kate; I am a gentleman.
- KATHERINA. That I'll try. [She strikes him]
- PETRUCHIO. I swear I'll cuff you, if you strike again.
- KATHERINA. So may you lose your arms.
- If you strike me, you are no gentleman;
- And if no gentleman, why then no arms.
- PETRUCHIO. A herald, Kate? O, put me in thy books!
- KATHERINA. What is your crest- a coxcomb?
- PETRUCHIO. A combless cock, so Kate will be my hen.
- KATHERINA. No cock of mine: you crow too like a craven.
- PETRUCHIO. Nay, come, Kate, come; you must not look so sour.
- KATHERINA. It is my fashion, when I see a crab.
- PETRUCHIO. Why, here's no crab; and therefore look not sour.
- KATHERINA. There is, there is.
- PETRUCHIO. Then show it me.
- KATHERINA. Had I a glass I would.
- PETRUCHIO. What, you mean my face?
- KATHERINA. Well aim'd of such a young one.
- PETRUCHIO. Now, by Saint George, I am too young for you.
- KATHERINA. Yet you are wither'd.
- PETRUCHIO. 'Tis with cares.
- KATHERINA. I care not.
- PETRUCHIO. Nay, hear you, Kate- in sooth, you scape not so.
- KATHERINA. I chafe you, if I tarry; let me go.
- PETRUCHIO. No, not a whit; I find you passing gentle.
- 'Twas told me you were rough, and coy, and sullen,
- And now I find report a very liar;
- For thou art pleasant, gamesome, passing courteous,
- But slow in speech, yet sweet as springtime flowers.
- Thou canst not frown, thou canst not look askance,
- Nor bite the lip, as angry wenches will,
- Nor hast thou pleasure to be cross in talk;
- But thou with mildness entertain'st thy wooers;
- With gentle conference, soft and affable.
- Why does the world report that Kate doth limp?
- O sland'rous world! Kate like the hazel-twig
- Is straight and slender, and as brown in hue
- As hazel-nuts, and sweeter than the kernels.
- O, let me see thee walk. Thou dost not halt.
- KATHERINA. Go, fool, and whom thou keep'st command.
- PETRUCHIO. Did ever Dian so become a grove
- As Kate this chamber with her princely gait?
- O, be thou Dian, and let her be Kate;
- And then let Kate be chaste, and Dian sportful!
- KATHERINA. Where did you study all this goodly speech?
- PETRUCHIO. It is extempore, from my mother wit.
- KATHERINA. A witty mother! witless else her son.
- PETRUCHIO. Am I not wise?
- KATHERINA. Yes, keep you warm.
- PETRUCHIO. Marry, so I mean, sweet Katherine, in thy bed.
- And therefore, setting all this chat aside,
- Thus in plain terms: your father hath consented
- That you shall be my wife your dowry greed on;
- And will you, nill you, I will marry you.
- Now, Kate, I am a husband for your turn;
- For, by this light, whereby I see thy beauty,
- Thy beauty that doth make me like thee well,
- Thou must be married to no man but me;
- For I am he am born to tame you, Kate,
- And bring you from a wild Kate to a Kate
- Conformable as other household Kates.
-
- Re-enter BAPTISTA, GREMIO, and TRANIO
-
- Here comes your father. Never make denial;
- I must and will have Katherine to my wife.
- BAPTISTA. Now, Signior Petruchio, how speed you with my daughter?
- PETRUCHIO. How but well, sir? how but well?
- It were impossible I should speed amiss.
- BAPTISTA. Why, how now, daughter Katherine, in your dumps?
- KATHERINA. Call you me daughter? Now I promise you
- You have show'd a tender fatherly regard
- To wish me wed to one half lunatic,
- A mad-cap ruffian and a swearing Jack,
- That thinks with oaths to face the matter out.
- PETRUCHIO. Father, 'tis thus: yourself and all the world
- That talk'd of her have talk'd amiss of her.
- If she be curst, it is for policy,
- For,she's not froward, but modest as the dove;
- She is not hot, but temperate as the morn;
- For patience she will prove a second Grissel,
- And Roman Lucrece for her chastity.
- And, to conclude, we have 'greed so well together
- That upon Sunday is the wedding-day.
- KATHERINA. I'll see thee hang'd on Sunday first.
- GREMIO. Hark, Petruchio; she says she'll see thee hang'd first.
- TRANIO. Is this your speeding? Nay, then good-night our part!
- PETRUCHIO. Be patient, gentlemen. I choose her for myself;
- If she and I be pleas'd, what's that to you?
- 'Tis bargain'd 'twixt us twain, being alone,
- That she shall still be curst in company.
- I tell you 'tis incredible to believe.
- How much she loves me- O, the kindest Kate!
- She hung about my neck, and kiss on kiss
- She vied so fast, protesting oath on oath,
- That in a twink she won me to her love.
- O, you are novices! 'Tis a world to see,
- How tame, when men and women are alone,
- A meacock wretch can make the curstest shrew.
- Give me thy hand, Kate; I will unto Venice,
- To buy apparel 'gainst the wedding-day.
- Provide the feast, father, and bid the guests;
- I will be sure my Katherine shall be fine.
- BAPTISTA. I know not what to say; but give me your hands.
- God send you joy, Petruchio! 'Tis a match.
- GREMIO, TRANIO. Amen, say we; we will be witnesses.
- PETRUCHIO. Father, and wife, and gentlemen, adieu.
- I will to Venice; Sunday comes apace;
- We will have rings and things, and fine array;
- And kiss me, Kate; we will be married a Sunday.
- Exeunt PETRUCHIO and KATHERINA severally
- GREMIO. Was ever match clapp'd up so suddenly?
- BAPTISTA. Faith, gentlemen, now I play a merchant's part,
- And venture madly on a desperate mart.
- TRANIO. 'Twas a commodity lay fretting by you;
- 'Twill bring you gain, or perish on the seas.
- BAPTISTA. The gain I seek is quiet in the match.
- GREMIO. No doubt but he hath got a quiet catch.
- But now, Baptista, to your younger daughter:
- Now is the day we long have looked for;
- I am your neighbour, and was suitor first.
- TRANIO. And I am one that love Bianca more
- Than words can witness or your thoughts can guess.
- GREMIO. Youngling, thou canst not love so dear as I.
- TRANIO. Greybeard, thy love doth freeze.
- GREMIO. But thine doth fry.
- Skipper, stand back; 'tis age that nourisheth.
- TRANIO. But youth in ladies' eyes that flourisheth.
- BAPTISTA. Content you, gentlemen; I will compound this strife.
- 'Tis deeds must win the prize, and he of both
- That can assure my daughter greatest dower
- Shall have my Bianca's love.
- Say, Signior Gremio, what can you assure her?
- GREMIO. First, as you know, my house within the city
- Is richly furnished with plate and gold,
- Basins and ewers to lave her dainty hands;
- My hangings all of Tyrian tapestry;
- In ivory coffers I have stuff'd my crowns;
- In cypress chests my arras counterpoints,
- Costly apparel, tents, and canopies,
- Fine linen, Turkey cushions boss'd with pearl,
- Valance of Venice gold in needle-work;
- Pewter and brass, and all things that belongs
- To house or housekeeping. Then at my farm
- I have a hundred milch-kine to the pail,
- Six score fat oxen standing in my stalls,
- And all things answerable to this portion.
- Myself am struck in years, I must confess;
- And if I die to-morrow this is hers,
- If whilst I live she will be only mine.
- TRANIO. That 'only' came well in. Sir, list to me:
- I am my father's heir and only son;
- If I may have your daughter to my wife,
- I'll leave her houses three or four as good
- Within rich Pisa's walls as any one
- Old Signior Gremio has in Padua;
- Besides two thousand ducats by the year
- Of fruitful land, all which shall be her jointure.
- What, have I pinch'd you, Signior Gremio?
- GREMIO. Two thousand ducats by the year of land!
- [Aside] My land amounts not to so much in all.-
- That she shall have, besides an argosy
- That now is lying in Marseilles road.
- What, have I chok'd you with an argosy?
- TRANIO. Gremio, 'tis known my father hath no less
- Than three great argosies, besides two galliasses,
- And twelve tight galleys. These I will assure her,
- And twice as much whate'er thou off'rest next.
- GREMIO. Nay, I have off'red all; I have no more;
- And she can have no more than all I have;
- If you like me, she shall have me and mine.
- TRANIO. Why, then the maid is mine from all the world
- By your firm promise; Gremio is out-vied.
- BAPTISTA. I must confess your offer is the best;
- And let your father make her the assurance,
- She is your own. Else, you must pardon me;
- If you should die before him, where's her dower?
- TRANIO. That's but a cavil; he is old, I young.
- GREMIO. And may not young men die as well as old?
- BAPTISTA. Well, gentlemen,
- I am thus resolv'd: on Sunday next you know
- My daughter Katherine is to be married;
- Now, on the Sunday following shall Bianca
- Be bride to you, if you make this assurance;
- If not, to Signior Gremio.
- And so I take my leave, and thank you both.
- GREMIO. Adieu, good neighbour. Exit BAPTISTA
- Now, I fear thee not.
- Sirrah young gamester, your father were a fool
- To give thee all, and in his waning age
- Set foot under thy table. Tut, a toy!
- An old Italian fox is not so kind, my boy. Exit
- TRANIO. A vengeance on your crafty withered hide!
- Yet I have fac'd it with a card of ten.
- 'Tis in my head to do my master good:
- I see no reason but suppos'd Lucentio
- Must get a father, call'd suppos'd Vincentio;
- And that's a wonder- fathers commonly
- Do get their children; but in this case of wooing
- A child shall get a sire, if I fail not of my cunning.
- Exit
-
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-ACT III. SCENE I.
-Padua. BAPTISTA'S house
-
-Enter LUCENTIO as CAMBIO, HORTENSIO as LICIO, and BIANCA
-
- LUCENTIO. Fiddler, forbear; you grow too forward, sir.
- Have you so soon forgot the entertainment
- Her sister Katherine welcome'd you withal?
- HORTENSIO. But, wrangling pedant, this is
- The patroness of heavenly harmony.
- Then give me leave to have prerogative;
- And when in music we have spent an hour,
- Your lecture shall have leisure for as much.
- LUCENTIO. Preposterous ass, that never read so far
- To know the cause why music was ordain'd!
- Was it not to refresh the mind of man
- After his studies or his usual pain?
- Then give me leave to read philosophy,
- And while I pause serve in your harmony.
- HORTENSIO. Sirrah, I will not bear these braves of thine.
- BIANCA. Why, gentlemen, you do me double wrong
- To strive for that which resteth in my choice.
- I arn no breeching scholar in the schools,
- I'll not be tied to hours nor 'pointed times,
- But learn my lessons as I please myself.
- And to cut off all strife: here sit we down;
- Take you your instrument, play you the whiles!
- His lecture will be done ere you have tun'd.
- HORTENSIO. You'll leave his lecture when I am in tune?
- LUCENTIO. That will be never- tune your instrument.
- BIANCA. Where left we last?
- LUCENTIO. Here, madam:
- 'Hic ibat Simois, hic est Sigeia tellus,
- Hic steterat Priami regia celsa senis.'
- BIANCA. Construe them.
- LUCENTIO. 'Hic ibat' as I told you before- 'Simois' I am Lucentio-
- 'hic est' son unto Vincentio of Pisa- 'Sigeia tellus' disguised
- thus to get your love- 'Hic steterat' and that Lucentio that
- comes a-wooing- 'Priami' is my man Tranio- 'regia' bearing my
- port- 'celsa senis' that we might beguile the old pantaloon.
- HORTENSIO. Madam, my instrument's in tune.
- BIANCA. Let's hear. O fie! the treble jars.
- LUCENTIO. Spit in the hole, man, and tune again.
- BIANCA. Now let me see if I can construe it: 'Hic ibat Simois' I
- know you not- 'hic est Sigeia tellus' I trust you not- 'Hic
- steterat Priami' take heed he hear us not- 'regia' presume not-
- 'celsa senis' despair not.
- HORTENSIO. Madam, 'tis now in tune.
- LUCENTIO. All but the bass.
- HORTENSIO. The bass is right; 'tis the base knave that jars.
- [Aside] How fiery and forward our pedant is!
- Now, for my life, the knave doth court my love.
- Pedascule, I'll watch you better yet.
- BIANCA. In time I may believe, yet I mistrust.
- LUCENTIO. Mistrust it not- for sure, AEacides
- Was Ajax, call'd so from his grandfather.
- BIANCA. I must believe my master; else, I promise you,
- I should be arguing still upon that doubt;
- But let it rest. Now, Licio, to you.
- Good master, take it not unkindly, pray,
- That I have been thus pleasant with you both.
- HORTENSIO. [To LUCENTIO] You may go walk and give me leave
- awhile;
- My lessons make no music in three Parts.
- LUCENTIO. Are you so formal, sir? Well, I must wait,
- [Aside] And watch withal; for, but I be deceiv'd,
- Our fine musician groweth amorous.
- HORTENSIO. Madam, before you touch the instrument
- To learn the order of my fingering,
- I must begin with rudiments of art,
- To teach you gamut in a briefer sort,
- More pleasant, pithy, and effectual,
- Than hath been taught by any of my trade;
- And there it is in writing fairly drawn.
- BIANCA. Why, I am past my gamut long ago.
- HORTENSIO. Yet read the gamut of Hortensio.
- BIANCA. [Reads]
- '"Gamut" I am, the ground of all accord-
- "A re" to plead Hortensio's passion-
- "B mi" Bianca, take him for thy lord-
- "C fa ut" that loves with all affection-
- "D sol re" one clef, two notes have I-
- "E la mi" show pity or I die.'
- Call you this gamut? Tut, I like it not!
- Old fashions please me best; I am not so nice
- To change true rules for odd inventions.
-
- Enter a SERVANT
-
- SERVANT. Mistress, your father prays you leave your books
- And help to dress your sister's chamber up.
- You know to-morrow is the wedding-day.
- BIANCA. Farewell, sweet masters, both; I must be gone.
- Exeunt BIANCA and SERVANT
- LUCENTIO. Faith, mistress, then I have no cause to stay.
- Exit
- HORTENSIO. But I have cause to pry into this pedant;
- Methinks he looks as though he were in love.
- Yet if thy thoughts, Bianca, be so humble
- To cast thy wand'ring eyes on every stale-
- Seize thee that list. If once I find thee ranging,
- HORTENSIO will be quit with thee by changing. Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-Padua. Before BAPTISTA'So house
-
-Enter BAPTISTA, GREMIO, TRANIO as LUCENTIO, KATHERINA, BIANCA,
-LUCENTIO as CAMBIO, and ATTENDANTS
-
- BAPTISTA. [To TRANIO] Signior Lucentio, this is the 'pointed day
- That Katherine and Petruchio should be married,
- And yet we hear not of our son-in-law.
- What will be said? What mockery will it be
- To want the bridegroom when the priest attends
- To speak the ceremonial rites of marriage!
- What says Lucentio to this shame of ours?
- KATHERINA. No shame but mine; I must, forsooth, be forc'd
- To give my hand, oppos'd against my heart,
- Unto a mad-brain rudesby, full of spleen,
- Who woo'd in haste and means to wed at leisure.
- I told you, I, he was a frantic fool,
- Hiding his bitter jests in blunt behaviour;
- And, to be noted for a merry man,
- He'll woo a thousand, 'point the day of marriage,
- Make friends invited, and proclaim the banns;
- Yet never means to wed where he hath woo'd.
- Now must the world point at poor Katherine,
- And say 'Lo, there is mad Petruchio's wife,
- If it would please him come and marry her!'
- TRANIO. Patience, good Katherine, and Baptista too.
- Upon my life, Petruchio means but well,
- Whatever fortune stays him from his word.
- Though he be blunt, I know him passing wise;
- Though he be merry, yet withal he's honest.
- KATHERINA. Would Katherine had never seen him though!
- Exit, weeping, followed by BIANCA and others
- BAPTISTA. Go, girl, I cannot blame thee now to weep,
- For such an injury would vex a very saint;
- Much more a shrew of thy impatient humour.
-
- Enter BIONDELLO
-
- Master, master! News, and such old news as you never heard of!
- BAPTISTA. Is it new and old too? How may that be?
- BIONDELLO. Why, is it not news to hear of Petruchio's coming?
- BAPTISTA. Is he come?
- BIONDELLO. Why, no, sir.
- BAPTISTA. What then?
- BIONDELLO. He is coming.
- BAPTISTA. When will he be here?
- BIONDELLO. When he stands where I am and sees you there.
- TRANIO. But, say, what to thine old news?
- BIONDELLO. Why, Petruchio is coming- in a new hat and an old
- jerkin; a pair of old breeches thrice turn'd; a pair of boots
- that have been candle-cases, one buckled, another lac'd; an old
- rusty sword ta'en out of the town armoury, with a broken hilt,
- and chapeless; with two broken points; his horse hipp'd, with an
- old motley saddle and stirrups of no kindred; besides, possess'd
- with the glanders and like to mose in the chine, troubled with
- the lampass, infected with the fashions, full of windgalls, sped
- with spavins, rayed with the yellows, past cure of the fives,
- stark spoil'd with the staggers, begnawn with the bots, sway'd in
- the back and shoulder-shotten, near-legg'd before, and with a
- half-cheek'd bit, and a head-stall of sheep's leather which,
- being restrained to keep him from stumbling, hath been often
- burst, and now repaired with knots; one girth six times piec'd,
- and a woman's crupper of velure, which hath two letters for her
- name fairly set down in studs, and here and there piec'd with
- pack-thread.
- BAPTISTA. Who comes with him?
- BIONDELLO. O, sir, his lackey, for all the world caparison'd like
- the horse- with a linen stock on one leg and a kersey boot-hose
- on the other, gart'red with a red and blue list; an old hat, and
- the humour of forty fancies prick'd in't for a feather; a
- monster, a very monster in apparel, and not like a Christian
- footboy or a gentleman's lackey.
- TRANIO. 'Tis some odd humour pricks him to this fashion;
- Yet oftentimes lie goes but mean-apparell'd.
- BAPTISTA. I am glad he's come, howsoe'er he comes.
- BIONDELLO. Why, sir, he comes not.
- BAPTISTA. Didst thou not say he comes?
- BIONDELLO. Who? that Petruchio came?
- BAPTISTA. Ay, that Petruchio came.
- BIONDELLO. No, sir; I say his horse comes with him on his back.
- BAPTISTA. Why, that's all one.
- BIONDELLO. Nay, by Saint Jamy,
- I hold you a penny,
- A horse and a man
- Is more than one,
- And yet not many.
-
- Enter PETRUCHIO and GRUMIO
-
- PETRUCHIO. Come, where be these gallants? Who's at home?
- BAPTISTA. You are welcome, sir.
- PETRUCHIO. And yet I come not well.
- BAPTISTA. And yet you halt not.
- TRANIO. Not so well apparell'd
- As I wish you were.
- PETRUCHIO. Were it better, I should rush in thus.
- But where is Kate? Where is my lovely bride?
- How does my father? Gentles, methinks you frown;
- And wherefore gaze this goodly company
- As if they saw some wondrous monument,
- Some comet or unusual prodigy?
- BAPTISTA. Why, sir, you know this is your wedding-day.
- First were we sad, fearing you would not come;
- Now sadder, that you come so unprovided.
- Fie, doff this habit, shame to your estate,
- An eye-sore to our solemn festival!
- TRANIO. And tell us what occasion of import
- Hath all so long detain'd you from your wife,
- And sent you hither so unlike yourself?
- PETRUCHIO. Tedious it were to tell, and harsh to hear;
- Sufficeth I am come to keep my word,
- Though in some part enforced to digress,
- Which at more leisure I will so excuse
- As you shall well be satisfied withal.
- But where is Kate? I stay too long from her;
- The morning wears, 'tis time we were at church.
- TRANIO. See not your bride in these unreverent robes;
- Go to my chamber, put on clothes of mine.
- PETRUCHIO. Not I, believe me; thus I'll visit her.
- BAPTISTA. But thus, I trust, you will not marry her.
- PETRUCHIO. Good sooth, even thus; therefore ha' done with words;
- To me she's married, not unto my clothes.
- Could I repair what she will wear in me
- As I can change these poor accoutrements,
- 'Twere well for Kate and better for myself.
- But what a fool am I to chat with you,
- When I should bid good-morrow to my bride
- And seal the title with a lovely kiss!
- Exeunt PETRUCHIO and PETRUCHIO
- TRANIO. He hath some meaning in his mad attire.
- We will persuade him, be it possible,
- To put on better ere he go to church.
- BAPTISTA. I'll after him and see the event of this.
- Exeunt BAPTISTA, GREMIO, BIONDELLO, and ATTENDENTS
- TRANIO. But to her love concerneth us to ad
- Her father's liking; which to bring to pass,
- As I before imparted to your worship,
- I am to get a man- whate'er he be
- It skills not much; we'll fit him to our turn-
- And he shall be Vincentio of Pisa,
- And make assurance here in Padua
- Of greater sums than I have promised.
- So shall you quietly enjoy your hope
- And marry sweet Bianca with consent.
- LUCENTIO. Were it not that my fellow schoolmaster
- Doth watch Bianca's steps so narrowly,
- 'Twere good, methinks, to steal our marriage;
- Which once perform'd, let all the world say no,
- I'll keep mine own despite of all the world.
- TRANIO. That by degrees we mean to look into
- And watch our vantage in this business;
- We'll over-reach the greybeard, Gremio,
- The narrow-prying father, Minola,
- The quaint musician, amorous Licio-
- All for my master's sake, Lucentio.
-
- Re-enter GREMIO
-
- Signior Gremio, came you from the church?
- GREMIO. As willingly as e'er I came from school.
- TRANIO. And is the bride and bridegroom coming home?
- GREMIO. A bridegroom, say you? 'Tis a groom indeed,
- A grumbling groom, and that the girl shall find.
- TRANIO. Curster than she? Why, 'tis impossible.
- GREMIO. Why, he's a devil, a devil, a very fiend.
- TRANIO. Why, she's a devil, a devil, the devil's dam.
- GREMIO. Tut, she's a lamb, a dove, a fool, to him!
- I'll tell you, Sir Lucentio: when the priest
- Should ask if Katherine should be his wife,
- 'Ay, by gogs-wouns' quoth he, and swore so loud
- That, all amaz'd, the priest let fall the book;
- And as he stoop'd again to take it up,
- This mad-brain'd bridegroom took him such a cuff
- That down fell priest and book, and book and priest.
- 'Now take them up,' quoth he 'if any list.'
- TRANIO. What said the wench, when he rose again?
- GREMIO. Trembled and shook, for why he stamp'd and swore
- As if the vicar meant to cozen him.
- But after many ceremonies done
- He calls for wine: 'A health!' quoth he, as if
- He had been abroad, carousing to his mates
- After a storm; quaff'd off the muscadel,
- And threw the sops all in the sexton's face,
- Having no other reason
- But that his beard grew thin and hungerly
- And seem'd to ask him sops as he was drinking.
- This done, he took the bride about the neck,
- And kiss'd her lips with such a clamorous smack
- That at the parting all the church did echo.
- And I, seeing this, came thence for very shame;
- And after me, I know, the rout is coming.
- Such a mad marriage never was before.
- Hark, hark! I hear the minstrels play. [Music plays]
-
- Enter PETRUCHIO, KATHERINA, BIANCA, BAPTISTA, HORTENSIO,
- GRUMIO, and train
-
- PETRUCHIO. Gentlemen and friends, I thank you for your pains.
- I know you think to dine with me to-day,
- And have prepar'd great store of wedding cheer
- But so it is- my haste doth call me hence,
- And therefore here I mean to take my leave.
- BAPTISTA. Is't possible you will away to-night?
- PETRUCHIO. I must away to-day before night come.
- Make it no wonder; if you knew my business,
- You would entreat me rather go than stay.
- And, honest company, I thank you all
- That have beheld me give away myself
- To this most patient, sweet, and virtuous wife.
- Dine with my father, drink a health to me.
- For I must hence; and farewell to you all.
- TRANIO. Let us entreat you stay till after dinner.
- PETRUCHIO. It may not be.
- GREMIO. Let me entreat you.
- PETRUCHIO. It cannot be.
- KATHERINA. Let me entreat you.
- PETRUCHIO. I am content.
- KATHERINA. Are you content to stay?
- PETRUCHIO. I am content you shall entreat me stay;
- But yet not stay, entreat me how you can.
- KATHERINA. Now, if you love me, stay.
- PETRUCHIO. Grumio, my horse.
- GRUMIO. Ay, sir, they be ready; the oats have eaten the horses.
- KATHERINA. Nay, then,
- Do what thou canst, I will not go to-day;
- No, nor to-morrow, not till I please myself.
- The door is open, sir; there lies your way;
- You may be jogging whiles your boots are green;
- For me, I'll not be gone till I please myself.
- 'Tis like you'll prove a jolly surly groom
- That take it on you at the first so roundly.
- PETRUCHIO. O Kate, content thee; prithee be not angry.
- KATHERINA. I will be angry; what hast thou to do?
- Father, be quiet; he shall stay my leisure.
- GREMIO. Ay, marry, sir, now it begins to work.
- KATHERINA. Gentlemen, forward to the bridal dinner.
- I see a woman may be made a fool
- If she had not a spirit to resist.
- PETRUCHIO. They shall go forward, Kate, at thy command.
- Obey the bride, you that attend on her;
- Go to the feast, revel and domineer,
- Carouse full measure to her maidenhead;
- Be mad and merry, or go hang yourselves.
- But for my bonny Kate, she must with me.
- Nay, look not big, nor stamp, nor stare, nor fret;
- I will be master of what is mine own-
- She is my goods, my chattels, she is my house,
- My household stuff, my field, my barn,
- My horse, my ox, my ass, my any thing,
- And here she stands; touch her whoever dare;
- I'll bring mine action on the proudest he
- That stops my way in Padua. Grumio,
- Draw forth thy weapon; we are beset with thieves;
- Rescue thy mistress, if thou be a man.
- Fear not, sweet wench; they shall not touch thee, Kate;
- I'll buckler thee against a million.
- Exeunt PETRUCHIO, KATHERINA, and GRUMIO
- BAPTISTA. Nay, let them go, a couple of quiet ones.
- GREMIO. Went they not quickly, I should die with laughing.
- TRANIO. Of all mad matches, never was the like.
- LUCENTIO. Mistress, what's your opinion of your sister?
- BIANCA. That, being mad herself, she's madly mated.
- GREMIO. I warrant him, Petruchio is Kated.
- BAPTISTA. Neighbours and friends, though bride and bridegroom wants
- For to supply the places at the table,
- You know there wants no junkets at the feast.
- Lucentio, you shall supply the bridegroom's place;
- And let Bianca take her sister's room.
- TRANIO. Shall sweet Bianca practise how to bride it?
- BAPTISTA. She shall, Lucentio. Come, gentlemen, let's go.
- Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-ACT IV. SCENE I.
-PETRUCHIO'S country house
-
-Enter GRUMIO
-
- GRUMIO. Fie, fie on all tired jades, on all mad masters, and all
- foul ways! Was ever man so beaten? Was ever man so ray'd? Was
- ever man so weary? I am sent before to make a fire, and they are
- coming after to warm them. Now were not I a little pot and soon
- hot, my very lips might freeze to my teeth, my tongue to the roof
- of my mouth, my heart in my belly, ere I should come by a fire to
- thaw me. But I with blowing the fire shall warm myself; for,
- considering the weather, a taller man than I will take cold.
- Holla, ho! Curtis!
-
- Enter CURTIS
-
- CURTIS. Who is that calls so coldly?
- GRUMIO. A piece of ice. If thou doubt it, thou mayst slide from my
- shoulder to my heel with no greater a run but my head and my
- neck. A fire, good Curtis.
- CURTIS. Is my master and his wife coming, Grumio?
- GRUMIO. O, ay, Curtis, ay; and therefore fire, fire; cast on no
- water.
- CURTIS. Is she so hot a shrew as she's reported?
- GRUMIO. She was, good Curtis, before this frost; but thou know'st
- winter tames man, woman, and beast; for it hath tam'd my old
- master, and my new mistress, and myself, fellow Curtis.
- CURTIS. Away, you three-inch fool! I am no beast.
- GRUMIO. Am I but three inches? Why, thy horn is a foot, and so long
- am I at the least. But wilt thou make a fire, or shall I complain
- on thee to our mistress, whose hand- she being now at hand- thou
- shalt soon feel, to thy cold comfort, for being slow in thy hot
- office?
- CURTIS. I prithee, good Grumio, tell me how goes the world?
- GRUMIO. A cold world, Curtis, in every office but thine; and
- therefore fire. Do thy duty, and have thy duty, for my master and
- mistress are almost frozen to death.
- CURTIS. There's fire ready; and therefore, good Grumio, the news?
- GRUMIO. Why, 'Jack boy! ho, boy!' and as much news as thou wilt.
- CURTIS. Come, you are so full of cony-catching!
- GRUMIO. Why, therefore, fire; for I have caught extreme cold.
- Where's the cook? Is supper ready, the house trimm'd, rushes
- strew'd, cobwebs swept, the serving-men in their new fustian,
- their white stockings, and every officer his wedding-garment on?
- Be the jacks fair within, the jills fair without, the carpets
- laid, and everything in order?
- CURTIS. All ready; and therefore, I pray thee, news.
- GRUMIO. First know my horse is tired; my master and mistress fall'n
- out.
- CURTIS. How?
- GRUMIO. Out of their saddles into the dirt; and thereby hangs a
- tale.
- CURTIS. Let's ha't, good Grumio.
- GRUMIO. Lend thine ear.
- CURTIS. Here.
- GRUMIO. There. [Striking him]
- CURTIS. This 'tis to feel a tale, not to hear a tale.
- GRUMIO. And therefore 'tis call'd a sensible tale; and this cuff
- was but to knock at your car and beseech list'ning. Now I begin:
- Imprimis, we came down a foul hill, my master riding behind my
- mistress-
- CURTIS. Both of one horse?
- GRUMIO. What's that to thee?
- CURTIS. Why, a horse.
- GRUMIO. Tell thou the tale. But hadst thou not cross'd me, thou
- shouldst have heard how her horse fell and she under her horse;
- thou shouldst have heard in how miry a place, how she was
- bemoil'd, how he left her with the horse upon her, how he beat me
- because her horse stumbled, how she waded through the dirt to
- pluck him off me, how he swore, how she pray'd that never pray'd
- before, how I cried, how the horses ran away, how her bridle was
- burst, how I lost my crupper- with many things of worthy memory,
- which now shall die in oblivion, and thou return unexperienc'd to
- thy grave.
- CURTIS. By this reck'ning he is more shrew than she.
- GRUMIO. Ay, and that thou and the proudest of you all shall find
- when he comes home. But what talk I of this? Call forth
- Nathaniel, Joseph, Nicholas, Philip, Walter, Sugarsop, and the
- rest; let their heads be sleekly comb'd, their blue coats brush'd
- and their garters of an indifferent knit; let them curtsy with
- their left legs, and not presume to touch a hair of my mastcr's
- horse-tail till they kiss their hands. Are they all ready?
- CURTIS. They are.
- GRUMIO. Call them forth.
- CURTIS. Do you hear, ho? You must meet my master, to countenance my
- mistress.
- GRUMIO. Why, she hath a face of her own.
- CURTIS. Who knows not that?
- GRUMIO. Thou, it seems, that calls for company to countenance her.
- CURTIS. I call them forth to credit her.
- GRUMIO. Why, she comes to borrow nothing of them.
-
- Enter four or five SERVINGMEN
-
- NATHANIEL. Welcome home, Grumio!
- PHILIP. How now, Grumio!
- JOSEPH. What, Grumio!
- NICHOLAS. Fellow Grumio!
- NATHANIEL. How now, old lad!
- GRUMIO. Welcome, you!- how now, you!- what, you!- fellow, you!- and
- thus much for greeting. Now, my spruce companions, is all ready,
- and all things neat?
- NATHANIEL. All things is ready. How near is our master?
- GRUMIO. E'en at hand, alighted by this; and therefore be not-
- Cock's passion, silence! I hear my master.
-
- Enter PETRUCHIO and KATHERINA
-
- PETRUCHIO. Where be these knaves? What, no man at door
- To hold my stirrup nor to take my horse!
- Where is Nathaniel, Gregory, Philip?
- ALL SERVANTS. Here, here, sir; here, sir.
- PETRUCHIO. Here, sir! here, sir! here, sir! here, sir!
- You logger-headed and unpolish'd grooms!
- What, no attendance? no regard? no duty?
- Where is the foolish knave I sent before?
- GRUMIO. Here, sir; as foolish as I was before.
- PETRUCHIO. YOU peasant swain! you whoreson malt-horse drudge!
- Did I not bid thee meet me in the park
- And bring along these rascal knaves with thee?
- GRUMIO. Nathaniel's coat, sir, was not fully made,
- And Gabriel's pumps were all unpink'd i' th' heel;
- There was no link to colour Peter's hat,
- And Walter's dagger was not come from sheathing;
- There were none fine but Adam, Ralph, and Gregory;
- The rest were ragged, old, and beggarly;
- Yet, as they are, here are they come to meet you.
- PETRUCHIO. Go, rascals, go and fetch my supper in.
- Exeunt some of the SERVINGMEN
-
- [Sings] Where is the life that late I led?
- Where are those-
-
- Sit down, Kate, and welcome. Soud, soud, soud, soud!
-
- Re-enter SERVANTS with supper
-
- Why, when, I say? Nay, good sweet Kate, be merry.
- Off with my boots, you rogues! you villains, when?
-
- [Sings] It was the friar of orders grey,
- As he forth walked on his way-
-
- Out, you rogue! you pluck my foot awry;
- Take that, and mend the plucking off the other.
- [Strikes him]
- Be merry, Kate. Some water, here, what, ho!
-
- Enter one with water
-
- Where's my spaniel Troilus? Sirrah, get you hence,
- And bid my cousin Ferdinand come hither:
- Exit SERVINGMAN
- One, Kate, that you must kiss and be acquainted with.
- Where are my slippers? Shall I have some water?
- Come, Kate, and wash, and welcome heartily.
- You whoreson villain! will you let it fall? [Strikes him]
- KATHERINA. Patience, I pray you; 'twas a fault unwilling.
- PETRUCHIO. A whoreson, beetle-headed, flap-ear'd knave!
- Come, Kate, sit down; I know you have a stomach.
- Will you give thanks, sweet Kate, or else shall I?
- What's this? Mutton?
- FIRST SERVANT. Ay.
- PETRUCHIO. Who brought it?
- PETER. I.
- PETRUCHIO. 'Tis burnt; and so is all the meat.
- What dogs are these? Where is the rascal cook?
- How durst you villains bring it from the dresser
- And serve it thus to me that love it not?
- There, take it to you, trenchers, cups, and all;
- [Throws the meat, etc., at them]
- You heedless joltheads and unmanner'd slaves!
- What, do you grumble? I'll be with you straight.
- Exeunt SERVANTS
- KATHERINA. I pray you, husband, be not so disquiet;
- The meat was well, if you were so contented.
- PETRUCHIO. I tell thee, Kate, 'twas burnt and dried away,
- And I expressly am forbid to touch it;
- For it engenders choler, planteth anger;
- And better 'twere that both of us did fast,
- Since, of ourselves, ourselves are choleric,
- Than feed it with such over-roasted flesh.
- Be patient; to-morrow 't shall be mended.
- And for this night we'll fast for company.
- Come, I will bring thee to thy bridal chamber. Exeunt
-
- Re-enter SERVANTS severally
-
- NATHANIEL. Peter, didst ever see the like?
- PETER. He kills her in her own humour.
-
- Re-enter CURTIS
-
- GRUMIO. Where is he?
- CURTIS. In her chamber. Making a sermon of continency to her,
- And rails, and swears, and rates, that she, poor soul,
- Knows not which way to stand, to look, to speak.
- And sits as one new risen from a dream.
- Away, away! for he is coming hither. Exeunt
-
- Re-enter PETRUCHIO
-
- PETRUCHIO. Thus have I politicly begun my reign,
- And 'tis my hope to end successfully.
- My falcon now is sharp and passing empty.
- And till she stoop she must not be full-gorg'd,
- For then she never looks upon her lure.
- Another way I have to man my haggard,
- To make her come, and know her keeper's call,
- That is, to watch her, as we watch these kites
- That bate and beat, and will not be obedient.
- She eat no meat to-day, nor none shall eat;
- Last night she slept not, nor to-night she shall not;
- As with the meat, some undeserved fault
- I'll find about the making of the bed;
- And here I'll fling the pillow, there the bolster,
- This way the coverlet, another way the sheets;
- Ay, and amid this hurly I intend
- That all is done in reverend care of her-
- And, in conclusion, she shall watch all night;
- And if she chance to nod I'll rail and brawl
- And with the clamour keep her still awake.
- This is a way to kill a wife with kindness,
- And thus I'll curb her mad and headstrong humour.
- He that knows better how to tame a shrew,
- Now let him speak; 'tis charity to show. Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-Padua. Before BAPTISTA'S house
-
-Enter TRANIO as LUCENTIO, and HORTENSIO as LICIO
-
- TRANIO. Is 't possible, friend Licio, that Mistress Bianca
- Doth fancy any other but Lucentio?
- I tell you, sir, she bears me fair in hand.
- HORTENSIO. Sir, to satisfy you in what I have said,
- Stand by and mark the manner of his teaching.
- [They stand aside]
-
- Enter BIANCA, and LUCENTIO as CAMBIO
-
- LUCENTIO. Now, mistress, profit you in what you read?
- BIANCA. What, master, read you, First resolve me that.
- LUCENTIO. I read that I profess, 'The Art to Love.'
- BIANCA. And may you prove, sir, master of your art!
- LUCENTIO. While you, sweet dear, prove mistress of my heart.
- [They retire]
- HORTENSIO. Quick proceeders, marry! Now tell me, I pray,
- You that durst swear that your Mistress Blanca
- Lov'd none in the world so well as Lucentio.
- TRANIO. O despiteful love! unconstant womankind!
- I tell thee, Licio, this is wonderful.
- HORTENSIO. Mistake no more; I am not Licio.
- Nor a musician as I seem to be;
- But one that scorn to live in this disguise
- For such a one as leaves a gentleman
- And makes a god of such a cullion.
- Know, sir, that I am call'd Hortensio.
- TRANIO. Signior Hortensio, I have often heard
- Of your entire affection to Bianca;
- And since mine eyes are witness of her lightness,
- I will with you, if you be so contented,
- Forswear Bianca and her love for ever.
- HORTENSIO. See, how they kiss and court! Signior Lucentio,
- Here is my hand, and here I firmly vow
- Never to woo her more, but do forswear her,
- As one unworthy all the former favours
- That I have fondly flatter'd her withal.
- TRANIO. And here I take the like unfeigned oath,
- Never to marry with her though she would entreat;
- Fie on her! See how beastly she doth court him!
- HORTENSIO. Would all the world but he had quite forsworn!
- For me, that I may surely keep mine oath,
- I will be married to a wealtlly widow
- Ere three days pass, which hath as long lov'd me
- As I have lov'd this proud disdainful haggard.
- And so farewell, Signior Lucentio.
- Kindness in women, not their beauteous looks,
- Shall win my love; and so I take my leave,
- In resolution as I swore before. Exit
- TRANIO. Mistress Bianca, bless you with such grace
- As 'longeth to a lover's blessed case!
- Nay, I have ta'en you napping, gentle love,
- And have forsworn you with Hortensio.
- BIANCA. Tranio, you jest; but have you both forsworn me?
- TRANIO. Mistress, we have.
- LUCENTIO. Then we are rid of Licio.
- TRANIO. I' faith, he'll have a lusty widow now,
- That shall be woo'd and wedded in a day.
- BIANCA. God give him joy!
- TRANIO. Ay, and he'll tame her.
- BIANCA. He says so, Tranio.
- TRANIO. Faith, he is gone unto the taming-school.
- BIANCA. The taming-school! What, is there such a place?
- TRANIO. Ay, mistress; and Petruchio is the master,
- That teacheth tricks eleven and twenty long,
- To tame a shrew and charm her chattering tongue.
-
- Enter BIONDELLO
-
- BIONDELLO. O master, master, have watch'd so long
- That I am dog-weary; but at last I spied
- An ancient angel coming down the hill
- Will serve the turn.
- TRANIO. What is he, Biondello?
- BIONDELLO. Master, a mercatante or a pedant,
- I know not what; but formal in apparel,
- In gait and countenance surely like a father.
- LUCENTIO. And what of him, Tranio?
- TRANIO. If he be credulous and trust my tale,
- I'll make him glad to seem Vincentio,
- And give assurance to Baptista Minola
- As if he were the right Vincentio.
- Take in your love, and then let me alone.
- Exeunt LUCENTIO and BIANCA
-
- Enter a PEDANT
-
- PEDANT. God save you, sir!
- TRANIO. And you, sir; you are welcome.
- Travel you far on, or are you at the farthest?
- PEDANT. Sir, at the farthest for a week or two;
- But then up farther, and as far as Rome;
- And so to Tripoli, if God lend me life.
- TRANIO. What countryman, I pray?
- PEDANT. Of Mantua.
- TRANIO. Of Mantua, sir? Marry, God forbid,
- And come to Padua, careless of your life!
- PEDANT. My life, sir! How, I pray? For that goes hard.
- TRANIO. 'Tis death for any one in Mantua
- To come to Padua. Know you not the cause?
- Your ships are stay'd at Venice; and the Duke,
- For private quarrel 'twixt your Duke and him,
- Hath publish'd and proclaim'd it openly.
- 'Tis marvel- but that you are but newly come,
- You might have heard it else proclaim'd about.
- PEDANT. Alas, sir, it is worse for me than so!
- For I have bills for money by exchange
- From Florence, and must here deliver them.
- TRANIO. Well, sir, to do you courtesy,
- This will I do, and this I will advise you-
- First, tell me, have you ever been at Pisa?
- PEDANT. Ay, sir, in Pisa have I often been,
- Pisa renowned for grave citizens.
- TRANIO. Among them know you one Vincentio?
- PEDANT. I know him not, but I have heard of him,
- A merchant of incomparable wealth.
- TRANIO. He is my father, sir; and, sooth to say,
- In count'nance somewhat doth resemble you.
- BIONDELLO. [Aside] As much as an apple doth an oyster, and all
- one.
- TRANIO. To save your life in this extremity,
- This favour will I do you for his sake;
- And think it not the worst of all your fortunes
- That you are like to Sir Vincentio.
- His name and credit shall you undertake,
- And in my house you shall be friendly lodg'd;
- Look that you take upon you as you should.
- You understand me, sir. So shall you stay
- Till you have done your business in the city.
- If this be court'sy, sir, accept of it.
- PEDANT. O, sir, I do; and will repute you ever
- The patron of my life and liberty.
- TRANIO. Then go with me to make the matter good.
- This, by the way, I let you understand:
- My father is here look'd for every day
- To pass assurance of a dow'r in marriage
- 'Twixt me and one Baptista's daughter here.
- In all these circumstances I'll instruct you.
- Go with me to clothe you as becomes you. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-PETRUCHIO'S house
-
-Enter KATHERINA and GRUMIO
-
- GRUMIO. No, no, forsooth; I dare not for my life.
- KATHERINA. The more my wrong, the more his spite appears.
- What, did he marry me to famish me?
- Beggars that come unto my father's door
- Upon entreaty have a present alms;
- If not, elsewhere they meet with charity;
- But I, who never knew how to entreat,
- Nor never needed that I should entreat,
- Am starv'd for meat, giddy for lack of sleep;
- With oaths kept waking, and with brawling fed;
- And that which spites me more than all these wants-
- He does it under name of perfect love;
- As who should say, if I should sleep or eat,
- 'Twere deadly sickness or else present death.
- I prithee go and get me some repast;
- I care not what, so it be wholesome food.
- GRUMIO. What say you to a neat's foot?
- KATHERINA. 'Tis passing good; I prithee let me have it.
- GRUMIO. I fear it is too choleric a meat.
- How say you to a fat tripe finely broil'd?
- KATHERINA. I like it well; good Grumio, fetch it me.
- GRUMIO. I cannot tell; I fear 'tis choleric.
- What say you to a piece of beef and mustard?
- KATHERINA. A dish that I do love to feed upon.
- GRUMIO. Ay, but the mustard is too hot a little.
- KATHERINA. Why then the beef, and let the mustard rest.
- GRUMIO. Nay, then I will not; you shall have the mustard,
- Or else you get no beef of Grumio.
- KATHERINA. Then both, or one, or anything thou wilt.
- GRUMIO. Why then the mustard without the beef.
- KATHERINA. Go, get thee gone, thou false deluding slave,
- [Beats him]
- That feed'st me with the very name of meat.
- Sorrow on thee and all the pack of you
- That triumph thus upon my misery!
- Go, get thee gone, I say.
-
- Enter PETRUCHIO, and HORTENSIO with meat
-
- PETRUCHIO. How fares my Kate? What, sweeting, all amort?
- HORTENSIO. Mistress, what cheer?
- KATHERINA. Faith, as cold as can be.
- PETRUCHIO. Pluck up thy spirits, look cheerfully upon me.
- Here, love, thou seest how diligent I am,
- To dress thy meat myself, and bring it thee.
- I am sure, sweet Kate, this kindness merits thanks.
- What, not a word? Nay, then thou lov'st it not,
- And all my pains is sorted to no proof.
- Here, take away this dish.
- KATHERINA. I pray you, let it stand.
- PETRUCHIO. The poorest service is repaid with thanks;
- And so shall mine, before you touch the meat.
- KATHERINA. I thank you, sir.
- HORTENSIO. Signior Petruchio, fie! you are to blame.
- Come, Mistress Kate, I'll bear you company.
- PETRUCHIO. [Aside] Eat it up all, Hortensio, if thou lovest me.-
- Much good do it unto thy gentle heart!
- Kate, eat apace. And now, my honey love,
- Will we return unto thy father's house
- And revel it as bravely as the best,
- With silken coats and caps, and golden rings,
- With ruffs and cuffs and farthingales and things,
- With scarfs and fans and double change of brav'ry.
- With amber bracelets, beads, and all this knav'ry.
- What, hast thou din'd? The tailor stays thy leisure,
- To deck thy body with his ruffling treasure.
-
- Enter TAILOR
-
- Come, tailor, let us see these ornaments;
- Lay forth the gown.
-
- Enter HABERDASHER
-
- What news with you, sir?
- HABERDASHER. Here is the cap your worship did bespeak.
- PETRUCHIO. Why, this was moulded on a porringer;
- A velvet dish. Fie, fie! 'tis lewd and filthy;
- Why, 'tis a cockle or a walnut-shell,
- A knack, a toy, a trick, a baby's cap.
- Away with it. Come, let me have a bigger.
- KATHERINA. I'll have no bigger; this doth fit the time,
- And gentlewomen wear such caps as these.
- PETRUCHIO. When you are gentle, you shall have one too,
- And not till then.
- HORTENSIO. [Aside] That will not be in haste.
- KATHERINA. Why, sir, I trust I may have leave to speak;
- And speak I will. I am no child, no babe.
- Your betters have endur'd me say my mind,
- And if you cannot, best you stop your ears.
- My tongue will tell the anger of my heart,
- Or else my heart, concealing it, will break;
- And rather than it shall, I will be free
- Even to the uttermost, as I please, in words.
- PETRUCHIO. Why, thou say'st true; it is a paltry cap,
- A custard-coffin, a bauble, a silken pie;
- I love thee well in that thou lik'st it not.
- KATHERINA. Love me or love me not, I like the cap;
- And it I will have, or I will have none. Exit HABERDASHER
- PETRUCHIO. Thy gown? Why, ay. Come, tailor, let us see't.
- O mercy, God! what masquing stuff is here?
- What's this? A sleeve? 'Tis like a demi-cannon.
- What, up and down, carv'd like an appletart?
- Here's snip and nip and cut and slish and slash,
- Like to a censer in a barber's shop.
- Why, what a devil's name, tailor, call'st thou this?
- HORTENSIO. [Aside] I see she's like to have neither cap nor gown.
- TAILOR. You bid me make it orderly and well,
- According to the fashion and the time.
- PETRUCHIO. Marry, and did; but if you be rememb'red,
- I did not bid you mar it to the time.
- Go, hop me over every kennel home,
- For you shall hop without my custom, sir.
- I'll none of it; hence! make your best of it.
- KATHERINA. I never saw a better fashion'd gown,
- More quaint, more pleasing, nor more commendable;
- Belike you mean to make a puppet of me.
- PETRUCHIO. Why, true; he means to make a puppet of thee.
- TAILOR. She says your worship means to make a puppet of her.
- PETRUCHIO. O monstrous arrogance! Thou liest, thou thread, thou
- thimble,
- Thou yard, three-quarters, half-yard, quarter, nail,
- Thou flea, thou nit, thou winter-cricket thou-
- Brav'd in mine own house with a skein of thread!
- Away, thou rag, thou quantity, thou remnant;
- Or I shall so bemete thee with thy yard
- As thou shalt think on prating whilst thou liv'st!
- I tell thee, I, that thou hast marr'd her gown.
- TAILOR. Your worship is deceiv'd; the gown is made
- Just as my master had direction.
- Grumio gave order how it should be done.
- GRUMIO. I gave him no order; I gave him the stuff.
- TAILOR. But how did you desire it should be made?
- GRUMIO. Marry, sir, with needle and thread.
- TAILOR. But did you not request to have it cut?
- GRUMIO. Thou hast fac'd many things.
- TAILOR. I have.
- GRUMIO. Face not me. Thou hast brav'd many men; brave not me. I
- will neither be fac'd nor brav'd. I say unto thee, I bid thy
- master cut out the gown; but I did not bid him cut it to pieces.
- Ergo, thou liest.
- TAILOR. Why, here is the note of the fashion to testify.
- PETRUCHIO. Read it.
- GRUMIO. The note lies in's throat, if he say I said so.
- TAILOR. [Reads] 'Imprimis, a loose-bodied gown'-
- GRUMIO. Master, if ever I said loose-bodied gown, sew me in the
- skirts of it and beat me to death with a bottom of brown bread; I
- said a gown.
- PETRUCHIO. Proceed.
- TAILOR. [Reads] 'With a small compass'd cape'-
- GRUMIO. I confess the cape.
- TAILOR. [Reads] 'With a trunk sleeve'-
- GRUMIO. I confess two sleeves.
- TAILOR. [Reads] 'The sleeves curiously cut.'
- PETRUCHIO. Ay, there's the villainy.
- GRUMIO. Error i' th' bill, sir; error i' th' bill! I commanded the
- sleeves should be cut out, and sew'd up again; and that I'll
- prove upon thee, though thy little finger be armed in a thimble.
- TAILOR. This is true that I say; an I had thee in place where, thou
- shouldst know it.
- GRUMIO. I am for thee straight; take thou the bill, give me thy
- meteyard, and spare not me.
- HORTENSIO. God-a-mercy, Grumio! Then he shall have no odds.
- PETRUCHIO. Well, sir, in brief, the gown is not for me.
- GRUMIO. You are i' th' right, sir; 'tis for my mistress.
- PETRUCHIO. Go, take it up unto thy master's use.
- GRUMIO. Villain, not for thy life! Take up my mistress' gown for
- thy master's use!
- PETRUCHIO. Why, sir, what's your conceit in that?
- GRUMIO. O, sir, the conceit is deeper than you think for.
- Take up my mistress' gown to his master's use!
- O fie, fie, fie!
- PETRUCHIO. [Aside] Hortensio, say thou wilt see the tailor paid.-
- Go take it hence; be gone, and say no more.
- HORTENSIO. Tailor, I'll pay thee for thy gown to-morrow;
- Take no unkindness of his hasty words.
- Away, I say; commend me to thy master. Exit TAILOR
- PETRUCHIO. Well, come, my Kate; we will unto your father's
- Even in these honest mean habiliments;
- Our purses shall be proud, our garments poor;
- For 'tis the mind that makes the body rich;
- And as the sun breaks through the darkest clouds,
- So honour peereth in the meanest habit.
- What, is the jay more precious than the lark
- Because his feathers are more beautiful?
- Or is the adder better than the eel
- Because his painted skin contents the eye?
- O no, good Kate; neither art thou the worse
- For this poor furniture and mean array.
- If thou account'st it shame, lay it on me;
- And therefore frolic; we will hence forthwith
- To feast and sport us at thy father's house.
- Go call my men, and let us straight to him;
- And bring our horses unto Long-lane end;
- There will we mount, and thither walk on foot.
- Let's see; I think 'tis now some seven o'clock,
- And well we may come there by dinner-time.
- KATHERINA. I dare assure you, sir, 'tis almost two,
- And 'twill be supper-time ere you come there.
- PETRUCHIO. It shall be seven ere I go to horse.
- Look what I speak, or do, or think to do,
- You are still crossing it. Sirs, let 't alone;
- I will not go to-day; and ere I do,
- It shall be what o'clock I say it is.
- HORTENSIO. Why, so this gallant will command the sun.
- Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE IV.
-Padua. Before BAPTISTA'S house
-
-Enter TRANIO as LUCENTIO, and the PEDANT dressed like VINCENTIO
-
- TRANIO. Sir, this is the house; please it you that I call?
- PEDANT. Ay, what else? And, but I be deceived,
- Signior Baptista may remember me
- Near twenty years ago in Genoa,
- Where we were lodgers at the Pegasus.
- TRANIO. 'Tis well; and hold your own, in any case,
- With such austerity as longeth to a father.
-
- Enter BIONDELLO
-
- PEDANT. I warrant you. But, sir, here comes your boy;
- 'Twere good he were school'd.
- TRANIO. Fear you not him. Sirrah Biondello,
- Now do your duty throughly, I advise you.
- Imagine 'twere the right Vincentio.
- BIONDELLO. Tut, fear not me.
- TRANIO. But hast thou done thy errand to Baptista?
- BIONDELLO. I told him that your father was at Venice,
- And that you look'd for him this day in Padua.
- TRANIO. Th'art a tall fellow; hold thee that to drink.
- Here comes Baptista. Set your countenance, sir.
-
- Enter BAPTISTA, and LUCENTIO as CAMBIO
-
- Signior Baptista, you are happily met.
- [To To the PEDANT] Sir, this is the gentleman I told you of;
- I pray you stand good father to me now;
- Give me Bianca for my patrimony.
- PEDANT. Soft, son!
- Sir, by your leave: having come to Padua
- To gather in some debts, my son Lucentio
- Made me acquainted with a weighty cause
- Of love between your daughter and himself;
- And- for the good report I hear of you,
- And for the love he beareth to your daughter,
- And she to him- to stay him not too long,
- I am content, in a good father's care,
- To have him match'd; and, if you please to like
- No worse than I, upon some agreement
- Me shall you find ready and willing
- With one consent to have her so bestow'd;
- For curious I cannot be with you,
- Signior Baptista, of whom I hear so well.
- BAPTISTA. Sir, pardon me in what I have to say.
- Your plainness and your shortness please me well.
- Right true it is your son Lucentio here
- Doth love my daughter, and she loveth him,
- Or both dissemble deeply their affections;
- And therefore, if you say no more than this,
- That like a father you will deal with him,
- And pass my daughter a sufficient dower,
- The match is made, and all is done-
- Your son shall have my daughter with consent.
- TRANIO. I thank you, sir. Where then do you know best
- We be affied, and such assurance ta'en
- As shall with either part's agreement stand?
- BAPTISTA. Not in my house, Lucentio, for you know
- Pitchers have ears, and I have many servants;
- Besides, old Gremio is heark'ning still,
- And happily we might be interrupted.
- TRANIO. Then at my lodging, an it like you.
- There doth my father lie; and there this night
- We'll pass the business privately and well.
- Send for your daughter by your servant here;
- My boy shall fetch the scrivener presently.
- The worst is this, that at so slender warning
- You are like to have a thin and slender pittance.
- BAPTISTA. It likes me well. Cambio, hie you home,
- And bid Bianca make her ready straight;
- And, if you will, tell what hath happened-
- Lucentio's father is arriv'd in Padua,
- And how she's like to be Lucentio's wife. Exit LUCENTIO
- BIONDELLO. I pray the gods she may, with all my heart.
- TRANIO. Dally not with the gods, but get thee gone.
- Exit BIONDELLO
- Signior Baptista, shall I lead the way?
- Welcome! One mess is like to be your cheer;
- Come, sir; we will better it in Pisa.
- BAPTISTA. I follow you. Exeunt
-
- Re-enter LUCENTIO as CAMBIO, and BIONDELLO
-
- BIONDELLO. Cambio.
- LUCENTIO. What say'st thou, Biondello?
- BIONDELLO. You saw my master wink and laugh upon you?
- LUCENTIO. Biondello, what of that?
- BIONDELLO. Faith, nothing; but has left me here behind to expound
- the meaning or moral of his signs and tokens.
- LUCENTIO. I pray thee moralize them.
- BIONDELLO. Then thus: Baptista is safe, talking with the deceiving
- father of a deceitful son.
- LUCENTIO. And what of him?
- BIONDELLO. His daughter is to be brought by you to the supper.
- LUCENTIO. And then?
- BIONDELLO. The old priest at Saint Luke's church is at your command
- at all hours.
- LUCENTIO. And what of all this?
- BIONDELLO. I cannot tell, except they are busied about a
- counterfeit assurance. Take your assurance of her, cum privilegio
- ad imprimendum solum; to th' church take the priest, clerk, and
- some sufficient honest witnesses.
- If this be not that you look for, I have more to say,
- But bid Bianca farewell for ever and a day.
- LUCENTIO. Hear'st thou, Biondello?
- BIONDELLO. I cannot tarry. I knew a wench married in an afternoon
- as she went to the garden for parsley to stuff a rabbit; and so
- may you, sir; and so adieu, sir. My master hath appointed me to
- go to Saint Luke's to bid the priest be ready to come against you
- come with your appendix.
- Exit
- LUCENTIO. I may and will, if she be so contented.
- She will be pleas'd; then wherefore should I doubt?
- Hap what hap may, I'll roundly go about her;
- It shall go hard if Cambio go without her. Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE V.
-A public road
-
-Enter PETRUCHIO, KATHERINA, HORTENSIO, and SERVANTS
-
- PETRUCHIO. Come on, a God's name; once more toward our father's.
- Good Lord, how bright and goodly shines the moon!
- KATHERINA. The moon? The sun! It is not moonlight now.
- PETRUCHIO. I say it is the moon that shines so bright.
- KATHERINA. I know it is the sun that shines so bright.
- PETRUCHIO. Now by my mother's son, and that's myself,
- It shall be moon, or star, or what I list,
- Or ere I journey to your father's house.
- Go on and fetch our horses back again.
- Evermore cross'd and cross'd; nothing but cross'd!
- HORTENSIO. Say as he says, or we shall never go.
- KATHERINA. Forward, I pray, since we have come so far,
- And be it moon, or sun, or what you please;
- And if you please to call it a rush-candle,
- Henceforth I vow it shall be so for me.
- PETRUCHIO. I say it is the moon.
- KATHERINA. I know it is the moon.
- PETRUCHIO. Nay, then you lie; it is the blessed sun.
- KATHERINA. Then, God be bless'd, it is the blessed sun;
- But sun it is not, when you say it is not;
- And the moon changes even as your mind.
- What you will have it nam'd, even that it is,
- And so it shall be so for Katherine.
- HORTENSIO. Petruchio, go thy ways, the field is won.
- PETRUCHIO. Well, forward, forward! thus the bowl should run,
- And not unluckily against the bias.
- But, soft! Company is coming here.
-
- Enter VINCENTIO
-
- [To VINCENTIO] Good-morrow, gentle mistress; where away?-
- Tell me, sweet Kate, and tell me truly too,
- Hast thou beheld a fresher gentlewoman?
- Such war of white and red within her cheeks!
- What stars do spangle heaven with such beauty
- As those two eyes become that heavenly face?
- Fair lovely maid, once more good day to thee.
- Sweet Kate, embrace her for her beauty's sake.
- HORTENSIO. 'A will make the man mad, to make a woman of him.
- KATHERINA. Young budding virgin, fair and fresh and sweet,
- Whither away, or where is thy abode?
- Happy the parents of so fair a child;
- Happier the man whom favourable stars
- Allots thee for his lovely bed-fellow.
- PETRUCHIO. Why, how now, Kate, I hope thou art not mad!
- This is a man, old, wrinkled, faded, withered,
- And not a maiden, as thou sayst he is.
- KATHERINA. Pardon, old father, my mistaking eyes,
- That have been so bedazzled with the sun
- That everything I look on seemeth green;
- Now I perceive thou art a reverend father.
- Pardon, I pray thee, for my mad mistaking.
- PETRUCHIO. Do, good old grandsire, and withal make known
- Which way thou travellest- if along with us,
- We shall be joyful of thy company.
- VINCENTIO. Fair sir, and you my merry mistress,
- That with your strange encounter much amaz'd me,
- My name is call'd Vincentio, my dwelling Pisa,
- And bound I am to Padua, there to visit
- A son of mine, which long I have not seen.
- PETRUCHIO. What is his name?
- VINCENTIO. Lucentio, gentle sir.
- PETRUCHIO. Happily met; the happier for thy son.
- And now by law, as well as reverend age,
- I may entitle thee my loving father:
- The sister to my wife, this gentlewoman,
- Thy son by this hath married. Wonder not,
- Nor be not grieved- she is of good esteem,
- Her dowry wealthy, and of worthy birth;
- Beside, so qualified as may beseem
- The spouse of any noble gentleman.
- Let me embrace with old Vincentio;
- And wander we to see thy honest son,
- Who will of thy arrival be full joyous.
- VINCENTIO. But is this true; or is it else your pleasure,
- Like pleasant travellers, to break a jest
- Upon the company you overtake?
- HORTENSIO. I do assure thee, father, so it is.
- PETRUCHIO. Come, go along, and see the truth hereof;
- For our first merriment hath made thee jealous.
- Exeunt all but HORTENSIO
- HORTENSIO. Well, Petruchio, this has put me in heart.
- Have to my widow; and if she be froward,
- Then hast thou taught Hortensio to be untoward. Exit
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT V. SCENE I.
-Padua. Before LUCENTIO'S house
-
-Enter BIONDELLO, LUCENTIO, and BIANCA; GREMIO is out before
-
- BIONDELLO. Softly and swiftly, sir, for the priest is ready.
- LUCENTIO. I fly, Biondello; but they may chance to need the at
- home, therefore leave us.
- BIONDELLO. Nay, faith, I'll see the church a your back, and then
- come back to my master's as soon as I can.
- Exeunt LUCENTIO, BIANCA, and BIONDELLO
- GREMIO. I marvel Cambio comes not all this while.
-
- Enter PETRUCHIO, KATHERINA, VINCENTIO, GRUMIO,
- and ATTENDANTS
-
- PETRUCHIO. Sir, here's the door; this is Lucentio's house;
- My father's bears more toward the market-place;
- Thither must I, and here I leave you, sir.
- VINCENTIO. You shall not choose but drink before you go;
- I think I shall command your welcome here,
- And by all likelihood some cheer is toward. [Knocks]
- GREMIO. They're busy within; you were best knock louder.
- [PEDANT looks out of the window]
- PEDANT. What's he that knocks as he would beat down the gate?
- VINCENTIO. Is Signior Lucentio within, sir?
- PEDANT. He's within, sir, but not to be spoken withal.
- VINCENTIO. What if a man bring him a hundred pound or two to make
- merry withal?
- PEDANT. Keep your hundred pounds to yourself; he shall need none so
- long as I live.
- PETRUCHIO. Nay, I told you your son was well beloved in Padua. Do
- you hear, sir? To leave frivolous circumstances, I pray you tell
- Signior Lucentio that his father is come from Pisa, and is here
- at the door to speak with him.
- PEDANT. Thou liest: his father is come from Padua, and here looking
- out at the window.
- VINCENTIO. Art thou his father?
- PEDANT. Ay, sir; so his mother says, if I may believe her.
- PETRUCHIO. [To VINCENTIO] Why, how now, gentleman!
- Why, this is flat knavery to take upon you another man's name.
- PEDANT. Lay hands on the villain; I believe 'a means to cozen
- somebody in this city under my countenance.
-
- Re-enter BIONDELLO
-
- BIONDELLO. I have seen them in the church together. God send 'em
- good shipping! But who is here? Mine old master, Vicentio! Now we
- are undone and brought to nothing.
- VINCENTIO. [Seeing BIONDELLO] Come hither, crack-hemp.
- BIONDELLO. I hope I may choose, sir.
- VINCENTIO. Come hither, you rogue. What, have you forgot me?
- BIONDELLO. Forgot you! No, sir. I could not forget you, for I never
- saw you before in all my life.
- VINCENTIO. What, you notorious villain, didst thou never see thy
- master's father, Vincentio?
- BIONDELLO. What, my old worshipful old master? Yes, marry, sir; see
- where he looks out of the window.
- VINCENTIO. Is't so, indeed? [He beats BIONDELLO]
- BIONDELLO. Help, help, help! Here's a madman will murder me.
- Exit
- PEDANT. Help, son! help, Signior Baptista! Exit from above
- PETRUCHIO. Prithee, Kate, let's stand aside and see the end of this
- controversy. [They stand aside]
-
- Re-enter PEDANT below; BAPTISTA, TRANIO, and SERVANTS
-
- TRANIO. Sir, what are you that offer to beat my servant?
- VINCENTIO. What am I, sir? Nay, what are you, sir? O immortal gods!
- O fine villain! A silken doublet, a velvet hose, a scarlet cloak,
- and a copatain hat! O, I am undone! I am undone! While I play the
- good husband at home, my son and my servant spend all at the
- university.
- TRANIO. How now! what's the matter?
- BAPTISTA. What, is the man lunatic?
- TRANIO. Sir, you seem a sober ancient gentleman by your habit, but
- your words show you a madman. Why, sir, what 'cerns it you if I
- wear pearl and gold? I thank my good father, I am able to
- maintain it.
- VINCENTIO. Thy father! O villain! he is a sailmaker in Bergamo.
- BAPTISTA. You mistake, sir; you mistake, sir. Pray, what do you
- think is his name?
- VINCENTIO. His name! As if I knew not his name! I have brought him
- up ever since he was three years old, and his name is Tranio.
- PEDANT. Away, away, mad ass! His name is Lucentio; and he is mine
- only son, and heir to the lands of me, Signior Vicentio.
- VINCENTIO. Lucentio! O, he hath murd'red his master! Lay hold on
- him, I charge you, in the Duke's name. O, my son, my son! Tell
- me, thou villain, where is my son, Lucentio?
- TRANIO. Call forth an officer.
-
- Enter one with an OFFICER
-
- Carry this mad knave to the gaol. Father Baptista, I charge you
- see that he be forthcoming.
- VINCENTIO. Carry me to the gaol!
- GREMIO. Stay, Officer; he shall not go to prison.
- BAPTISTA. Talk not, Signior Gremio; I say he shall go to prison.
- GREMIO. Take heed, Signior Baptista, lest you be cony-catch'd in
- this business; I dare swear this is the right Vincentio.
- PEDANT. Swear if thou dar'st.
- GREMIO. Nay, I dare not swear it.
- TRANIO. Then thou wert best say that I am not Lucentio.
- GREMIO. Yes, I know thee to be Signior Lucentio.
- BAPTISTA. Away with the dotard; to the gaol with him!
- VINCENTIO. Thus strangers may be hal'd and abus'd. O monstrous
- villain!
-
- Re-enter BIONDELLO, with LUCENTIO and BIANCA
-
- BIONDELLO. O, we are spoil'd; and yonder he is! Deny him, forswear
- him, or else we are all undone.
- Exeunt BIONDELLO, TRANIO, and PEDANT, as fast as may be
- LUCENTIO. [Kneeling] Pardon, sweet father.
- VINCENTIO. Lives my sweet son?
- BIANCA. Pardon, dear father.
- BAPTISTA. How hast thou offended?
- Where is Lucentio?
- LUCENTIO. Here's Lucentio,
- Right son to the right Vincentio,
- That have by marriage made thy daughter mine,
- While counterfeit supposes blear'd thine eyne.
- GREMIO. Here's packing, with a witness, to deceive us all!
- VINCENTIO. Where is that damned villain, Tranio,
- That fac'd and brav'd me in this matter so?
- BAPTISTA. Why, tell me, is not this my Cambio?
- BIANCA. Cambio is chang'd into Lucentio.
- LUCENTIO. Love wrought these miracles. Bianca's love
- Made me exchange my state with Tranio,
- While he did bear my countenance in the town;
- And happily I have arrived at the last
- Unto the wished haven of my bliss.
- What Tranio did, myself enforc'd him to;
- Then pardon him, sweet father, for my sake.
- VINCENTIO. I'll slit the villain's nose that would have sent me to
- the gaol.
- BAPTISTA. [To LUCENTIO] But do you hear, sir? Have you married my
- daughter without asking my good will?
- VINCENTIO. Fear not, Baptista; we will content you, go to; but I
- will in to be revenged for this villainy. Exit
- BAPTISTA. And I to sound the depth of this knavery. Exit
- LUCENTIO. Look not pale, Bianca; thy father will not frown.
- Exeunt LUCENTIO and BIANCA
- GREMIO. My cake is dough, but I'll in among the rest;
- Out of hope of all but my share of the feast. Exit
- KATHERINA. Husband, let's follow to see the end of this ado.
- PETRUCHIO. First kiss me, Kate, and we will.
- KATHERINA. What, in the midst of the street?
- PETRUCHIO. What, art thou asham'd of me?
- KATHERINA. No, sir; God forbid; but asham'd to kiss.
- PETRUCHIO. Why, then, let's home again. Come, sirrah, let's away.
- KATHERINA. Nay, I will give thee a kiss; now pray thee, love, stay.
- PETRUCHIO. Is not this well? Come, my sweet Kate:
- Better once than never, for never too late. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-LUCENTIO'S house
-
-Enter BAPTISTA, VINCENTIO, GREMIO, the PEDANT, LUCENTIO, BIANCA,
-PETRUCHIO, KATHERINA, HORTENSIO, and WIDOW. The SERVINGMEN with TRANIO,
-BIONDELLO, and GRUMIO, bringing in a banquet
-
- LUCENTIO. At last, though long, our jarring notes agree;
- And time it is when raging war is done
- To smile at scapes and perils overblown.
- My fair Bianca, bid my father welcome,
- While I with self-same kindness welcome thine.
- Brother Petruchio, sister Katherina,
- And thou, Hortensio, with thy loving widow,
- Feast with the best, and welcome to my house.
- My banquet is to close our stomachs up
- After our great good cheer. Pray you, sit down;
- For now we sit to chat as well as eat. [They sit]
- PETRUCHIO. Nothing but sit and sit, and eat and eat!
- BAPTISTA. Padua affords this kindness, son Petruchio.
- PETRUCHIO. Padua affords nothing but what is kind.
- HORTENSIO. For both our sakes I would that word were true.
- PETRUCHIO. Now, for my life, Hortensio fears his widow.
- WIDOW. Then never trust me if I be afeard.
- PETRUCHIO. YOU are very sensible, and yet you miss my sense:
- I mean Hortensio is afeard of you.
- WIDOW. He that is giddy thinks the world turns round.
- PETRUCHIO. Roundly replied.
- KATHERINA. Mistress, how mean you that?
- WIDOW. Thus I conceive by him.
- PETRUCHIO. Conceives by me! How likes Hortensio that?
- HORTENSIO. My widow says thus she conceives her tale.
- PETRUCHIO. Very well mended. Kiss him for that, good widow.
- KATHERINA. 'He that is giddy thinks the world turns round.'
- I pray you tell me what you meant by that.
- WIDOW. Your husband, being troubled with a shrew,
- Measures my husband's sorrow by his woe;
- And now you know my meaning.
- KATHERINA. A very mean meaning.
- WIDOW. Right, I mean you.
- KATHERINA. And I am mean, indeed, respecting you.
- PETRUCHIO. To her, Kate!
- HORTENSIO. To her, widow!
- PETRUCHIO. A hundred marks, my Kate does put her down.
- HORTENSIO. That's my office.
- PETRUCHIO. Spoke like an officer- ha' to thee, lad.
- [Drinks to HORTENSIO]
- BAPTISTA. How likes Gremio these quick-witted folks?
- GREMIO. Believe me, sir, they butt together well.
- BIANCA. Head and butt! An hasty-witted body
- Would say your head and butt were head and horn.
- VINCENTIO. Ay, mistress bride, hath that awakened you?
- BIANCA. Ay, but not frighted me; therefore I'll sleep again.
- PETRUCHIO. Nay, that you shall not; since you have begun,
- Have at you for a bitter jest or two.
- BIANCA. Am I your bird? I mean to shift my bush,
- And then pursue me as you draw your bow.
- You are welcome all.
- Exeunt BIANCA, KATHERINA, and WIDOW
- PETRUCHIO. She hath prevented me. Here, Signior Tranio,
- This bird you aim'd at, though you hit her not;
- Therefore a health to all that shot and miss'd.
- TRANIO. O, sir, Lucentio slipp'd me like his greyhound,
- Which runs himself, and catches for his master.
- PETRUCHIO. A good swift simile, but something currish.
- TRANIO. 'Tis well, sir, that you hunted for yourself;
- 'Tis thought your deer does hold you at a bay.
- BAPTISTA. O, O, Petruchio! Tranio hits you now.
- LUCENTIO. I thank thee for that gird, good Tranio.
- HORTENSIO. Confess, confess; hath he not hit you here?
- PETRUCHIO. 'A has a little gall'd me, I confess;
- And, as the jest did glance away from me,
- 'Tis ten to one it maim'd you two outright.
- BAPTISTA. Now, in good sadness, son Petruchio,
- I think thou hast the veriest shrew of all.
- PETRUCHIO. Well, I say no; and therefore, for assurance,
- Let's each one send unto his wife,
- And he whose wife is most obedient,
- To come at first when he doth send for her,
- Shall win the wager which we will propose.
- HORTENSIO. Content. What's the wager?
- LUCENTIO. Twenty crowns.
- PETRUCHIO. Twenty crowns?
- I'll venture so much of my hawk or hound,
- But twenty times so much upon my wife.
- LUCENTIO. A hundred then.
- HORTENSIO. Content.
- PETRUCHIO. A match! 'tis done.
- HORTENSIO. Who shall begin?
- LUCENTIO. That will I.
- Go, Biondello, bid your mistress come to me.
- BIONDELLO. I go. Exit
- BAPTISTA. Son, I'll be your half Bianca comes.
- LUCENTIO. I'll have no halves; I'll bear it all myself.
-
- Re-enter BIONDELLO
-
- How now! what news?
- BIONDELLO. Sir, my mistress sends you word
- That she is busy and she cannot come.
- PETRUCHIO. How! She's busy, and she cannot come!
- Is that an answer?
- GREMIO. Ay, and a kind one too.
- Pray God, sir, your wife send you not a worse.
- PETRUCHIO. I hope better.
- HORTENSIO. Sirrah Biondello, go and entreat my wife
- To come to me forthwith. Exit BIONDELLO
- PETRUCHIO. O, ho! entreat her!
- Nay, then she must needs come.
- HORTENSIO. I am afraid, sir,
- Do what you can, yours will not be entreated.
-
- Re-enter BIONDELLO
-
- Now, where's my wife?
- BIONDELLO. She says you have some goodly jest in hand:
- She will not come; she bids you come to her.
- PETRUCHIO. Worse and worse; she will not come! O vile,
- Intolerable, not to be endur'd!
- Sirrah Grumio, go to your mistress;
- Say I command her come to me. Exit GRUMIO
- HORTENSIO. I know her answer.
- PETRUCHIO. What?
- HORTENSIO. She will not.
- PETRUCHIO. The fouler fortune mine, and there an end.
-
- Re-enter KATHERINA
-
- BAPTISTA. Now, by my holidame, here comes Katherina!
- KATHERINA. What is your sir, that you send for me?
- PETRUCHIO. Where is your sister, and Hortensio's wife?
- KATHERINA. They sit conferring by the parlour fire.
- PETRUCHIO. Go, fetch them hither; if they deny to come.
- Swinge me them soundly forth unto their husbands.
- Away, I say, and bring them hither straight.
- Exit KATHERINA
- LUCENTIO. Here is a wonder, if you talk of a wonder.
- HORTENSIO. And so it is. I wonder what it bodes.
- PETRUCHIO. Marry, peace it bodes, and love, and quiet life,
- An awful rule, and right supremacy;
- And, to be short, what not that's sweet and happy.
- BAPTISTA. Now fair befall thee, good Petruchio!
- The wager thou hast won; and I will ad
- Unto their losses twenty thousand crowns;
- Another dowry to another daughter,
- For she is chang'd, as she had never been.
- PETRUCHIO. Nay, I will win my wager better yet,
- And show more sign of her obedience,
- Her new-built virtue and obedience.
-
- Re-enter KATHERINA with BIANCA and WIDOW
-
- See where she comes, and brings your froward wives
- As prisoners to her womanly persuasion.
- Katherine, that cap of yours becomes you not:
- Off with that bauble, throw it underfoot.
- [KATHERINA complies]
- WIDOW. Lord, let me never have a cause to sigh
- Till I be brought to such a silly pass!
- BIANCA. Fie! what a foolish duty call you this?
- LUCENTIO. I would your duty were as foolish too;
- The wisdom of your duty, fair Bianca,
- Hath cost me a hundred crowns since supper-time!
- BIANCA. The more fool you for laying on my duty.
- PETRUCHIO. Katherine, I charge thee, tell these headstrong women
- What duty they do owe their lords and husbands.
- WIDOW. Come, come, you're mocking; we will have no telling.
- PETRUCHIO. Come on, I say; and first begin with her.
- WIDOW. She shall not.
- PETRUCHIO. I say she shall. And first begin with her.
- KATHERINA. Fie, fie! unknit that threatening unkind brow,
- And dart not scornful glances from those eyes
- To wound thy lord, thy king, thy governor.
- It blots thy beauty as frosts do bite the meads,
- Confounds thy fame as whirlwinds shake fair buds,
- And in no sense is meet or amiable.
- A woman mov'd is like a fountain troubled-
- Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty;
- And while it is so, none so dry or thirsty
- Will deign to sip or touch one drop of it.
- Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper,
- Thy head, thy sovereign; one that cares for thee,
- And for thy maintenance commits his body
- To painful labour both by sea and land,
- To watch the night in storms, the day in cold,
- Whilst thou liest warm at home, secure and safe;
- And craves no other tribute at thy hands
- But love, fair looks, and true obedience-
- Too little payment for so great a debt.
- Such duty as the subject owes the prince,
- Even such a woman oweth to her husband;
- And when she is froward, peevish, sullen, sour,
- And not obedient to his honest will,
- What is she but a foul contending rebel
- And graceless traitor to her loving lord?
- I am asham'd that women are so simple
- To offer war where they should kneel for peace;
- Or seek for rule, supremacy, and sway,
- When they are bound to serve, love, and obey.
- Why are our bodies soft and weak and smooth,
- Unapt to toll and trouble in the world,
- But that our soft conditions and our hearts
- Should well agree with our external parts?
- Come, come, you froward and unable worms!
- My mind hath been as big as one of yours,
- My heart as great, my reason haply more,
- To bandy word for word and frown for frown;
- But now I see our lances are but straws,
- Our strength as weak, our weakness past compare,
- That seeming to be most which we indeed least are.
- Then vail your stomachs, for it is no boot,
- And place your hands below your husband's foot;
- In token of which duty, if he please,
- My hand is ready, may it do him ease.
- PETRUCHIO. Why, there's a wench! Come on, and kiss me, Kate.
- LUCENTIO. Well, go thy ways, old lad, for thou shalt ha't.
- VINCENTIO. 'Tis a good hearing when children are toward.
- LUCENTIO. But a harsh hearing when women are froward.
- PETRUCHIO. Come, Kate, we'll to bed.
- We three are married, but you two are sped.
- [To LUCENTIO] 'Twas I won the wager, though you hit the white;
- And being a winner, God give you good night!
- Exeunt PETRUCHIO and KATHERINA
- HORTENSIO. Now go thy ways; thou hast tam'd a curst shrow.
- LUCENTIO. 'Tis a wonder, by your leave, she will be tam'd so.
- Exeunt
-
-THE END
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-
-
-1612
-
-THE TEMPEST
-
-by William Shakespeare
-
-
-
-DRAMATIS PERSONAE
-
- ALONSO, King of Naples
- SEBASTIAN, his brother
- PROSPERO, the right Duke of Milan
- ANTONIO, his brother, the usurping Duke of Milan
- FERDINAND, son to the King of Naples
- GONZALO, an honest old counsellor
-
- Lords
- ADRIAN
- FRANCISCO
- CALIBAN, a savage and deformed slave
- TRINCULO, a jester
- STEPHANO, a drunken butler
- MASTER OF A SHIP
- BOATSWAIN
- MARINERS
-
- MIRANDA, daughter to Prospero
-
- ARIEL, an airy spirit
-
- Spirits
- IRIS
- CERES
- JUNO
- NYMPHS
- REAPERS
- Other Spirits attending on Prospero
-
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-SCENE:
-A ship at sea; afterwards an uninhabited island
-
-
-
-THE TEMPEST
-ACT I. SCENE 1
-
-On a ship at sea; a tempestuous noise of thunder and lightning heard
-
-Enter a SHIPMASTER and a BOATSWAIN
-
- MASTER. Boatswain!
- BOATSWAIN. Here, master; what cheer?
- MASTER. Good! Speak to th' mariners; fall to't yarely, or
- we run ourselves aground; bestir, bestir. Exit
-
- Enter MARINERS
-
- BOATSWAIN. Heigh, my hearts! cheerly, cheerly, my hearts!
- yare, yare! Take in the topsail. Tend to th' master's
- whistle. Blow till thou burst thy wind, if room enough.
-
- Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, FERDINAND
- GONZALO, and OTHERS
-
- ALONSO. Good boatswain, have care. Where's the master?
- Play the men.
- BOATSWAIN. I pray now, keep below.
- ANTONIO. Where is the master, boson?
- BOATSWAIN. Do you not hear him? You mar our labour;
- keep your cabins; you do assist the storm.
- GONZALO. Nay, good, be patient.
- BOATSWAIN. When the sea is. Hence! What cares these
- roarers for the name of king? To cabin! silence! Trouble
- us not.
- GONZALO. Good, yet remember whom thou hast aboard.
- BOATSWAIN. None that I more love than myself. You are
- counsellor; if you can command these elements to
- silence, and work the peace of the present, we will not
- hand a rope more. Use your authority; if you cannot, give
- thanks you have liv'd so long, and make yourself ready
- in your cabin for the mischance of the hour, if it so
- hap.-Cheerly, good hearts!-Out of our way, I say.
- Exit
- GONZALO. I have great comfort from this fellow. Methinks
- he hath no drowning mark upon him; his complexion is
- perfect gallows. Stand fast, good Fate, to his hanging;
- make the rope of his destiny our cable, for our own doth
- little advantage. If he be not born to be hang'd, our
- case is miserable. Exeunt
-
- Re-enter BOATSWAIN
-
- BOATSWAIN. Down with the topmast. Yare, lower, lower!
- Bring her to try wi' th' maincourse. [A cry within] A
- plague upon this howling! They are louder than the
- weather or our office.
-
- Re-enter SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, and GONZALO
-
- Yet again! What do you here? Shall we give o'er, and
- drown? Have you a mind to sink?
- SEBASTIAN. A pox o' your throat, you bawling, blasphemous,
- incharitable dog!
- BOATSWAIN. Work you, then.
- ANTONIO. Hang, cur; hang, you whoreson, insolent noisemaker;
- we are less afraid to be drown'd than thou art.
- GONZALO. I'll warrant him for drowning, though the ship were
- no stronger than a nutshell, and as leaky as an unstanched
- wench.
- BOATSWAIN. Lay her a-hold, a-hold; set her two courses; off
- to sea again; lay her off.
-
- Enter MARINERS, Wet
- MARINERS. All lost! to prayers, to prayers! all lost!
- Exeunt
- BOATSWAIN. What, must our mouths be cold?
- GONZALO. The King and Prince at prayers!
- Let's assist them,
- For our case is as theirs.
- SEBASTIAN. I am out of patience.
- ANTONIO. We are merely cheated of our lives by drunkards.
- This wide-chopp'd rascal-would thou mightst lie drowning
- The washing of ten tides!
- GONZALO. He'll be hang'd yet,
- Though every drop of water swear against it,
- And gape at wid'st to glut him.
- [A confused noise within: Mercy on us!
- We split, we split! Farewell, my wife and children!
- Farewell, brother! We split, we split, we split!]
- ANTONIO. Let's all sink wi' th' King.
- SEBASTIAN. Let's take leave of him.
- Exeunt ANTONIO and SEBASTIAN
- GONZALO. Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for
- an acre of barren ground-long heath, brown furze, any
- thing. The wills above be done, but I would fain die
- dry death. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 2
-
-The Island. Before PROSPERO'S cell
-
-Enter PROSPERO and MIRANDA
-
- MIRANDA. If by your art, my dearest father, you have
- Put the wild waters in this roar, allay them.
- The sky, it seems, would pour down stinking pitch,
- But that the sea, mounting to th' welkin's cheek,
- Dashes the fire out. O, I have suffered
- With those that I saw suffer! A brave vessel,
- Who had no doubt some noble creature in her,
- Dash'd all to pieces! O, the cry did knock
- Against my very heart! Poor souls, they perish'd.
- Had I been any god of power, I would
- Have sunk the sea within the earth or ere
- It should the good ship so have swallow'd and
- The fraughting souls within her.
- PROSPERO. Be conected;
- No more amazement; tell your piteous heart
- There's no harm done.
- MIRANDA. O, woe the day!
- PROSPERO. No harm.
- I have done nothing but in care of thee,
- Of thee, my dear one, thee, my daughter, who
- Art ignorant of what thou art, nought knowing
- Of whence I am, nor that I am more better
- Than Prospero, master of a full poor cell,
- And thy no greater father.
- MIRANDA. More to know
- Did never meddle with my thoughts.
- PROSPERO. 'Tis time
- I should inform thee farther. Lend thy hand,
- And pluck my magic garment from me. So,
- [Lays down his mantle]
- Lie there my art. Wipe thou thine eyes; have comfort.
- The direful spectacle of the wreck, which touch'd
- The very virtue of compassion in thee,
- I have with such provision in mine art
- So safely ordered that there is no soul-
- No, not so much perdition as an hair
- Betid to any creature in the vessel
- Which thou heard'st cry, which thou saw'st sink.
- Sit down, for thou must now know farther.
- MIRANDA. You have often
- Begun to tell me what I am; but stopp'd,
- And left me to a bootless inquisition,
- Concluding 'Stay; not yet.'
- PROSPERO. The hour's now come;
- The very minute bids thee ope thine ear.
- Obey, and be attentive. Canst thou remember
- A time before we came unto this cell?
- I do not think thou canst; for then thou wast not
- Out three years old.
- MIRANDA. Certainly, sir, I can.
- PROSPERO. By what? By any other house, or person?
- Of any thing the image, tell me, that
- Hath kept with thy remembrance?
- MIRANDA. 'Tis far off,
- And rather like a dream than an assurance
- That my remembrance warrants. Had I not
- Four, or five, women once, that tended me?
- PROSPERO. Thou hadst, and more, Miranda. But how is it
- That this lives in thy mind? What seest thou else
- In the dark backward and abysm of time?
- If thou rememb'rest aught, ere thou cam'st here,
- How thou cam'st here thou mayst.
- MIRANDA. But that I do not.
- PROSPERO. Twelve year since, Miranda, twelve year since,
- Thy father was the Duke of Milan, and
- A prince of power.
- MIRANDA. Sir, are not you my father?
- PROSPERO. Thy mother was a piece of virtue, and
- She said thou wast my daughter; and thy father
- Was Duke of Milan, and his only heir
- And princess no worse issued.
- MIRANDA. O, the heavens!
- What foul play had we that we came from thence?
- Or blessed was't we did?
- PROSPERO. Both, both, my girl.
- By foul play, as thou say'st, were we heav'd thence;
- But blessedly holp hither.
- MIRANDA. O, my heart bleeds
- To think o' th' teen that I have turn'd you to,
- Which is from my remembrance. Please you, farther.
- PROSPERO. My brother and thy uncle, call'd Antonio-
- I pray thee, mark me that a brother should
- Be so perfidious. He, whom next thyself
- Of all the world I lov'd, and to him put
- The manage of my state; as at that time
- Through all the signories it was the first,
- And Prospero the prime duke, being so reputed
- In dignity, and for the liberal arts
- Without a parallel, those being all my study-
- The government I cast upon my brother
- And to my state grew stranger, being transported
- And rapt in secret studies. Thy false uncle-
- Dost thou attend me?
- MIRANDA. Sir, most heedfully.
- PROSPERO. Being once perfected how to grant suits,
- How to deny them, who t' advance, and who
- To trash for over-topping, new created
- The creatures that were mine, I say, or chang'd 'em,
- Or else new form'd 'em; having both the key
- Of officer and office, set all hearts i' th' state
- To what tune pleas'd his ear; that now he was
- The ivy which had hid my princely trunk
- And suck'd my verdure out on't. Thou attend'st not.
- MIRANDA. O, good sir, I do!
- PROSPERO. I pray thee, mark me.
- I thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated
- To closeness and the bettering of my mind
- With that which, but by being so retir'd,
- O'er-priz'd all popular rate, in my false brother
- Awak'd an evil nature; and my trust,
- Like a good parent, did beget of him
- A falsehood, in its contrary as great
- As my trust was; which had indeed no limit,
- A confidence sans bound. He being thus lorded,
- Not only with what my revenue yielded,
- But what my power might else exact, like one
- Who having into truth, by telling of it,
- Made such a sinner of his memory,
- To credit his own lie-he did believe
- He was indeed the Duke; out o' th' substitution,
- And executing th' outward face of royalty
- With all prerogative. Hence his ambition growing-
- Dost thou hear?
- MIRANDA. Your tale, sir, would cure deafness.
- PROSPERO. To have no screen between this part he play'd
- And him he play'd it for, he needs will be
- Absolute Milan. Me, poor man-my library
- Was dukedom large enough-of temporal royalties
- He thinks me now incapable; confederates,
- So dry he was for sway, wi' th' King of Naples,
- To give him annual tribute, do him homage,
- Subject his coronet to his crown, and bend
- The dukedom, yet unbow'd-alas, poor Milan!-
- To most ignoble stooping.
- MIRANDA. O the heavens!
- PROSPERO. Mark his condition, and th' event, then tell me
- If this might be a brother.
- MIRANDA. I should sin
- To think but nobly of my grandmother:
- Good wombs have borne bad sons.
- PROSPERO. Now the condition:
- This King of Naples, being an enemy
- To me inveterate, hearkens my brother's suit;
- Which was, that he, in lieu o' th' premises,
- Of homage, and I know not how much tribute,
- Should presently extirpate me and mine
- Out of the dukedom, and confer fair Milan
- With all the honours on my brother. Whereon,
- A treacherous army levied, one midnight
- Fated to th' purpose, did Antonio open
- The gates of Milan; and, i' th' dead of darkness,
- The ministers for th' purpose hurried thence
- Me and thy crying self.
- MIRANDA. Alack, for pity!
- I, not rememb'ring how I cried out then,
- Will cry it o'er again; it is a hint
- That wrings mine eyes to't.
- PROSPERO. Hear a little further,
- And then I'll bring thee to the present busines
- Which now's upon 's; without the which this story
- Were most impertinent.
- MIRANDA. Wherefore did they not
- That hour destroy us?
- PROSPERO. Well demanded, wench!
- My tale provokes that question. Dear, they durst not,
- So dear the love my people bore me; nor set
- A mark so bloody on the business; but
- With colours fairer painted their foul ends.
- In few, they hurried us aboard a bark;
- Bore us some leagues to sea, where they prepared
- A rotten carcass of a butt, not rigg'd,
- Nor tackle, sail, nor mast; the very rats
- Instinctively have quit it. There they hoist us,
- To cry to th' sea, that roar'd to us; to sigh
- To th' winds, whose pity, sighing back again,
- Did us but loving wrong.
- MIRANDA. Alack, what trouble
- Was I then to you!
- PROSPERO. O, a cherubin
- Thou wast that did preserve me! Thou didst smile,
- Infused with a fortitude from heaven,
- When I have deck'd the sea with drops full salt,
- Under my burden groan'd; which rais'd in me
- An undergoing stomach, to bear up
- Against what should ensue.
- MIRANDA. How came we ashore?
- PROSPERO. By Providence divine.
- Some food we had and some fresh water that
- A noble Neapolitan, Gonzalo,
- Out of his charity, who being then appointed
- Master of this design, did give us, with
- Rich garments, linens, stuffs, and necessaries,
- Which since have steaded much; so, of his gentleness,
- Knowing I lov'd my books, he furnish'd me
- From mine own library with volumes that
- I prize above my dukedom.
- MIRANDA. Would I might
- But ever see that man!
- PROSPERO. Now I arise. [Puts on his mantle]
- Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow.
- Here in this island we arriv'd; and here
- Have I, thy schoolmaster, made thee more profit
- Than other princess' can, that have more time
- For vainer hours, and tutors not so careful.
- MIRANDA. Heavens thank you for't! And now, I pray you,
- sir,
- For still 'tis beating in my mind, your reason
- For raising this sea-storm?
- PROSPERO. Know thus far forth:
- By accident most strange, bountiful Fortune,
- Now my dear lady, hath mine enemies
- Brought to this shore; and by my prescience
- I find my zenith doth depend upon
- A most auspicious star, whose influence
- If now I court not, but omit, my fortunes
- Will ever after droop. Here cease more questions;
- Thou art inclin'd to sleep; 'tis a good dullness,
- And give it way. I know thou canst not choose.
- [MIRANDA sleeps]
- Come away, servant; come; I am ready now.
- Approach, my Ariel. Come.
-
- Enter ARIEL
-
- ARIEL. All hail, great master! grave sir, hail! I come
- To answer thy best pleasure; be't to fly,
- To swim, to dive into the fire, to ride
- On the curl'd clouds. To thy strong bidding task
- Ariel and all his quality.
- PROSPERO. Hast thou, spirit,
- Perform'd to point the tempest that I bade thee?
- ARIEL. To every article.
- I boarded the King's ship; now on the beak,
- Now in the waist, the deck, in every cabin,
- I flam'd amazement. Sometime I'd divide,
- And burn in many places; on the topmast,
- The yards, and bowsprit, would I flame distinctly,
- Then meet and join Jove's lightning, the precursors
- O' th' dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary
- And sight-outrunning were not; the fire and cracks
- Of sulphurous roaring the most mighty Neptune
- Seem to besiege, and make his bold waves tremble,
- Yea, his dread trident shake.
- PROSPERO. My brave spirit!
- Who was so firm, so constant, that this coil
- Would not infect his reason?
- ARIEL. Not a soul
- But felt a fever of the mad, and play'd
- Some tricks of desperation. All but mariners
- Plung'd in the foaming brine, and quit the vessel,
- Then all afire with me; the King's son, Ferdinand,
- With hair up-staring-then like reeds, not hair-
- Was the first man that leapt; cried 'Hell is empty,
- And all the devils are here.'
- PROSPERO. Why, that's my spirit!
- But was not this nigh shore?
- ARIEL. Close by, my master.
- PROSPERO. But are they, Ariel, safe?
- ARIEL. Not a hair perish'd;
- On their sustaining garments not a blemish,
- But fresher than before; and, as thou bad'st me,
- In troops I have dispers'd them 'bout the isle.
- The King's son have I landed by himself,
- Whom I left cooling of the air with sighs
- In an odd angle of the isle, and sitting,
- His arms in this sad knot.
- PROSPERO. Of the King's ship,
- The mariners, say how thou hast dispos'd,
- And all the rest o' th' fleet?
- ARIEL. Safely in harbour
- Is the King's ship; in the deep nook, where once
- Thou call'dst me up at midnight to fetch dew
- From the still-vex'd Bermoothes, there she's hid;
- The mariners all under hatches stowed,
- Who, with a charm join'd to their suff'red labour,
- I have left asleep; and for the rest o' th' fleet,
- Which I dispers'd, they all have met again,
- And are upon the Mediterranean flote
- Bound sadly home for Naples,
- Supposing that they saw the King's ship wreck'd,
- And his great person perish.
- PROSPERO. Ariel, thy charge
- Exactly is perform'd; but there's more work.
- What is the time o' th' day?
- ARIEL. Past the mid season.
- PROSPERO. At least two glasses. The time 'twixt six and now
- Must by us both be spent most preciously.
- ARIEL. Is there more toil? Since thou dost give me pains,
- Let me remember thee what thou hast promis'd,
- Which is not yet perform'd me.
- PROSPERO. How now, moody?
- What is't thou canst demand?
- ARIEL. My liberty.
- PROSPERO. Before the time be out? No more!
- ARIEL. I prithee,
- Remember I have done thee worthy service,
- Told thee no lies, made thee no mistakings, serv'd
- Without or grudge or grumblings. Thou didst promise
- To bate me a full year.
- PROSPERO. Dost thou forget
- From what a torment I did free thee?
- ARIEL. No.
- PROSPERO. Thou dost; and think'st it much to tread the ooze
- Of the salt deep,
- To run upon the sharp wind of the north,
- To do me business in the veins o' th' earth
- When it is bak'd with frost.
- ARIEL. I do not, sir.
- PROSPERO. Thou liest, malignant thing. Hast thou forgot
- The foul witch Sycorax, who with age and envy
- Was grown into a hoop? Hast thou forgot her?
- ARIEL. No, sir.
- PROSPERO. Thou hast. Where was she born?
- Speak; tell me.
- ARIEL. Sir, in Argier.
- PROSPERO. O, was she so? I must
- Once in a month recount what thou hast been,
- Which thou forget'st. This damn'd witch Sycorax,
- For mischiefs manifold, and sorceries terrible
- To enter human hearing, from Argier
- Thou know'st was banish'd; for one thing she did
- They would not take her life. Is not this true?
- ARIEL. Ay, sir.
- PROSPERO. This blue-ey'd hag was hither brought with child,
- And here was left by th'sailors. Thou, my slave,
- As thou report'st thyself, wast then her servant;
- And, for thou wast a spirit too delicate
- To act her earthy and abhorr'd commands,
- Refusing her grand hests, she did confine thee,
- By help of her more potent ministers,
- And in her most unmitigable rage,
- Into a cloven pine; within which rift
- Imprison'd thou didst painfully remain
- A dozen years; within which space she died,
- And left thee there, where thou didst vent thy groans
- As fast as mill-wheels strike. Then was this island-
- Save for the son that she did litter here,
- A freckl'd whelp, hag-born-not honour'd with
- A human shape.
- ARIEL. Yes, Caliban her son.
- PROSPERO. Dull thing, I say so; he, that Caliban
- Whom now I keep in service. Thou best know'st
- What torment I did find thee in; thy groans
- Did make wolves howl, and penetrate the breasts
- Of ever-angry bears; it was a torment
- To lay upon the damn'd, which Sycorax
- Could not again undo. It was mine art,
- When I arriv'd and heard thee, that made gape
- The pine, and let thee out.
- ARIEL. I thank thee, master.
- PROSPERO. If thou more murmur'st, I will rend an oak
- And peg thee in his knotty entrails, till
- Thou hast howl'd away twelve winters.
- ARIEL. Pardon, master;
- I will be correspondent to command,
- And do my spriting gently.
- PROSPERO. Do so; and after two days
- I will discharge thee.
- ARIEL. That's my noble master!
- What shall I do? Say what. What shall I do?
- PROSPERO. Go make thyself like a nymph o' th' sea; be subject
- To no sight but thine and mine, invisible
- To every eyeball else. Go take this shape,
- And hither come in 't. Go, hence with diligence!
- Exit ARIEL
- Awake, dear heart, awake; thou hast slept well;
- Awake.
- MIRANDA. The strangeness of your story put
- Heaviness in me.
- PROSPERO. Shake it off. Come on,
- We'll visit Caliban, my slave, who never
- Yields us kind answer.
- MIRANDA. 'Tis a villain, sir,
- I do not love to look on.
- PROSPERO. But as 'tis,
- We cannot miss him: he does make our fire,
- Fetch in our wood, and serves in offices
- That profit us. What ho! slave! Caliban!
- Thou earth, thou! Speak.
- CALIBAN. [ Within] There's wood enough within.
- PROSPERO. Come forth, I say; there's other business for thee.
- Come, thou tortoise! when?
-
- Re-enter ARIEL like a water-nymph
-
- Fine apparition! My quaint Ariel,
- Hark in thine ear.
- ARIEL. My lord, it shall be done. Exit
- PROSPERO. Thou poisonous slave, got by the devil himself
- Upon thy wicked dam, come forth!
-
- Enter CALIBAN
-
- CALIBAN. As wicked dew as e'er my mother brush'd
- With raven's feather from unwholesome fen
- Drop on you both! A south-west blow on ye
- And blister you all o'er!
- PROSPERO. For this, be sure, to-night thou shalt have cramps,
- Side-stitches that shall pen thy breath up; urchins
- Shall, for that vast of night that they may work,
- All exercise on thee; thou shalt be pinch'd
- As thick as honeycomb, each pinch more stinging
- Than bees that made 'em.
- CALIBAN. I must eat my dinner.
- This island's mine, by Sycorax my mother,
- Which thou tak'st from me. When thou cam'st first,
- Thou strok'st me and made much of me, wouldst give me
- Water with berries in't, and teach me how
- To name the bigger light, and how the less,
- That burn by day and night; and then I lov'd thee,
- And show'd thee all the qualities o' th' isle,
- The fresh springs, brine-pits, barren place and fertile.
- Curs'd be I that did so! All the charms
- Of Sycorax, toads, beetles, bats, light on you!
- For I am all the subjects that you have,
- Which first was mine own king; and here you sty me
- In this hard rock, whiles you do keep from me
- The rest o' th' island.
- PROSPERO. Thou most lying slave,
- Whom stripes may move, not kindness! I have us'd thee,
- Filth as thou art, with human care, and lodg'd thee
- In mine own cell, till thou didst seek to violate
- The honour of my child.
- CALIBAN. O ho, O ho! Would't had been done.
- Thou didst prevent me; I had peopl'd else
- This isle with Calibans.
- MIRANDA. Abhorred slave,
- Which any print of goodness wilt not take,
- Being capable of all ill! I pitied thee,
- Took pains to make thee speak, taught thee each hour
- One thing or other. When thou didst not, savage,
- Know thine own meaning, but wouldst gabble like
- A thing most brutish, I endow'd thy purposes
- With words that made them known. But thy vile race,
- Though thou didst learn, had that in't which good natures
- Could not abide to be with; therefore wast thou
- Deservedly confin'd into this rock, who hadst
- Deserv'd more than a prison.
- CALIBAN. You taught me language, and my profit on't
- Is, I know how to curse. The red plague rid you
- For learning me your language!
- PROSPERO. Hag-seed, hence!
- Fetch us in fuel. And be quick, thou 'rt best,
- To answer other business. Shrug'st thou, malice?
- If thou neglect'st, or dost unwillingly
- What I command, I'll rack thee with old cramps,
- Fill all thy bones with aches, make thee roar,
- That beasts shall tremble at thy din.
- CALIBAN. No, pray thee.
- [Aside] I must obey. His art is of such pow'r,
- It would control my dam's god, Setebos,
- And make a vassal of him.
- PROSPERO. So, slave; hence! Exit CALIBAN
-
- Re-enter ARIEL invisible, playing ad singing;
- FERDINAND following
-
- ARIEL'S SONG.
- Come unto these yellow sands,
- And then take hands;
- Curtsied when you have and kiss'd,
- The wild waves whist,
- Foot it featly here and there,
- And, sweet sprites, the burden bear.
- Hark, hark!
- [Burden dispersedly: Bow-wow.]
- The watch dogs bark.
- [Burden dispersedly: Bow-wow.]
- Hark, hark! I hear
- The strain of strutting chanticleer
- Cry, Cock-a-diddle-dow.
- FERDINAND. Where should this music be? I' th' air or th'
- earth?
- It sounds no more; and sure it waits upon
- Some god o' th' island. Sitting on a bank,
- Weeping again the King my father's wreck,
- This music crept by me upon the waters,
- Allaying both their fury and my passion
- With its sweet air; thence I have follow'd it,
- Or it hath drawn me rather. But 'tis gone.
- No, it begins again.
-
- ARIEL'S SONG
- Full fathom five thy father lies;
- Of his bones are coral made;
- Those are pearls that were his eyes;
- Nothing of him that doth fade
- But doth suffer a sea-change
- Into something rich and strange.
- Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell:
- [Burden: Ding-dong.]
- Hark! now I hear them-Ding-dong bell.
-
- FERDINAND. The ditty does remember my drown'd father.
- This is no mortal business, nor no sound
- That the earth owes. I hear it now above me.
- PROSPERO. The fringed curtains of thine eye advance,
- And say what thou seest yond.
- MIRANDA. What is't? a spirit?
- Lord, how it looks about! Believe me, sir,
- It carries a brave form. But 'tis a spirit.
- PROSPERO. No, wench; it eats and sleeps and hath such senses
- As we have, such. This gallant which thou seest
- Was in the wreck; and but he's something stain'd
- With grief, that's beauty's canker, thou mightst call him
- A goodly person. He hath lost his fellows,
- And strays about to find 'em.
- MIRANDA. I might call him
- A thing divine; for nothing natural
- I ever saw so noble.
- PROSPERO. [Aside] It goes on, I see,
- As my soul prompts it. Spirit, fine spirit! I'll free thee
- Within two days for this.
- FERDINAND. Most sure, the goddess
- On whom these airs attend! Vouchsafe my pray'r
- May know if you remain upon this island;
- And that you will some good instruction give
- How I may bear me here. My prime request,
- Which I do last pronounce, is, O you wonder!
- If you be maid or no?
- MIRANDA. No wonder, sir;
- But certainly a maid.
- FERDINAND. My language? Heavens!
- I am the best of them that speak this speech,
- Were I but where 'tis spoken.
- PROSPERO. How? the best?
- What wert thou, if the King of Naples heard thee?
- FERDINAND. A single thing, as I am now, that wonders
- To hear thee speak of Naples. He does hear me;
- And that he does I weep. Myself am Naples,
- Who with mine eyes, never since at ebb, beheld
- The King my father wreck'd.
- MIRANDA. Alack, for mercy!
- FERDINAND. Yes, faith, and all his lords, the Duke of Milan
- And his brave son being twain.
- PROSPERO. [Aside] The Duke of Milan
- And his more braver daughter could control thee,
- If now 'twere fit to do't. At the first sight
- They have chang'd eyes. Delicate Ariel,
- I'll set thee free for this. [To FERDINAND] A word, good
- sir;
- I fear you have done yourself some wrong; a word.
- MIRANDA. Why speaks my father so ungently? This
- Is the third man that e'er I saw; the first
- That e'er I sigh'd for. Pity move my father
- To be inclin'd my way!
- FERDINAND. O, if a virgin,
- And your affection not gone forth, I'll make you
- The Queen of Naples.
- PROSPERO. Soft, Sir! one word more.
- [Aside] They are both in either's pow'rs; but this swift
- busines
- I must uneasy make, lest too light winning
- Make the prize light. [To FERDINAND] One word more; I
- charge thee
- That thou attend me; thou dost here usurp
- The name thou ow'st not; and hast put thyself
- Upon this island as a spy, to win it
- From me, the lord on't.
- FERDINAND. No, as I am a man.
- MIRANDA. There's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple.
- If the ill spirit have so fair a house,
- Good things will strive to dwell with't.
- PROSPERO. Follow me.
- Speak not you for him; he's a traitor. Come;
- I'll manacle thy neck and feet together.
- Sea-water shalt thou drink; thy food shall be
- The fresh-brook mussels, wither'd roots, and husks
- Wherein the acorn cradled. Follow.
- FERDINAND. No;
- I will resist such entertainment till
- Mine enemy has more power.
- [He draws, and is charmed from moving]
- MIRANDA. O dear father,
- Make not too rash a trial of him, for
- He's gentle, and not fearful.
- PROSPERO. What, I say,
- My foot my tutor? Put thy sword up, traitor;
- Who mak'st a show but dar'st not strike, thy conscience
- Is so possess'd with guilt. Come from thy ward;
- For I can here disarm thee with this stick
- And make thy weapon drop.
- MIRANDA. Beseech you, father!
- PROSPERO. Hence! Hang not on my garments.
- MIRANDA. Sir, have pity;
- I'll be his surety.
- PROSPERO. Silence! One word more
- Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee. What!
- An advocate for an impostor! hush!
- Thou think'st there is no more such shapes as he,
- Having seen but him and Caliban. Foolish wench!
- To th' most of men this is a Caliban,
- And they to him are angels.
- MIRANDA. My affections
- Are then most humble; I have no ambition
- To see a goodlier man.
- PROSPERO. Come on; obey.
- Thy nerves are in their infancy again,
- And have no vigour in them.
- FERDINAND. So they are;
- My spirits, as in a dream, are all bound up.
- My father's loss, the weakness which I feel,
- The wreck of all my friends, nor this man's threats
- To whom I am subdu'd, are but light to me,
- Might I but through my prison once a day
- Behold this maid. All corners else o' th' earth
- Let liberty make use of; space enough
- Have I in such a prison.
- PROSPERO. [Aside] It works. [To FERDINAND] Come on.-
- Thou hast done well, fine Ariel! [To FERDINAND] Follow
- me.
- [To ARIEL] Hark what thou else shalt do me.
- MIRANDA. Be of comfort;
- My father's of a better nature, sir,
- Than he appears by speech; this is unwonted
- Which now came from him.
- PROSPERO. [To ARIEL] Thou shalt be as free
- As mountain winds; but then exactly do
- All points of my command.
- ARIEL. To th' syllable.
- PROSPERO. [To FERDINAND] Come, follow. [To MIRANDA]
- Speak not for him. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT II. SCENE 1
-
-Another part of the island
-
-Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, GONZALO, ADRIAN, FRANCISCO, and OTHERS
-
- GONZALO. Beseech you, sir, be merry; you have cause,
- So have we all, of joy; for our escape
- Is much beyond our loss. Our hint of woe
- Is common; every day, some sailor's wife,
- The masters of some merchant, and the merchant,
- Have just our theme of woe; but for the miracle,
- I mean our preservation, few in millions
- Can speak like us. Then wisely, good sir, weigh
- Our sorrow with our comfort.
- ALONSO. Prithee, peace.
- SEBASTIAN. He receives comfort like cold porridge.
- ANTONIO. The visitor will not give him o'er so.
- SEBASTIAN. Look, he's winding up the watch of his wit; by
- and by it will strike.
- GONZALO. Sir-
- SEBASTIAN. One-Tell.
- GONZALO. When every grief is entertain'd that's offer'd,
- Comes to th' entertainer-
- SEBASTIAN. A dollar.
- GONZALO. Dolour comes to him, indeed; you have spoken
- truer than you purpos'd.
- SEBASTIAN. You have taken it wiselier than I meant you
- should.
- GONZALO. Therefore, my lord-
- ANTONIO. Fie, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue!
- ALONSO. I prithee, spare.
- GONZALO. Well, I have done; but yet-
- SEBASTIAN. He will be talking.
- ANTONIO. Which, of he or Adrian, for a good wager, first
- begins to crow?
- SEBASTIAN. The old cock.
- ANTONIO. The cock'rel.
- SEBASTIAN. Done. The wager?
- ANTONIO. A laughter.
- SEBASTIAN. A match!
- ADRIAN. Though this island seem to be desert-
- ANTONIO. Ha, ha, ha!
- SEBASTIAN. So, you're paid.
- ADRIAN. Uninhabitable, and almost inaccessible-
- SEBASTIAN. Yet-
- ADRIAN. Yet-
- ANTONIO. He could not miss't.
- ADRIAN. It must needs be of subtle, tender, and delicate
- temperance.
- ANTONIO. Temperance was a delicate wench.
- SEBASTIAN. Ay, and a subtle; as he most learnedly
- deliver'd.
- ADRIAN. The air breathes upon us here most sweetly.
- SEBASTIAN. As if it had lungs, and rotten ones.
- ANTONIO. Or, as 'twere perfum'd by a fen.
- GONZALO. Here is everything advantageous to life.
- ANTONIO. True; save means to live.
- SEBASTIAN. Of that there's none, or little.
- GONZALO. How lush and lusty the grass looks! how green!
- ANTONIO. The ground indeed is tawny.
- SEBASTIAN. With an eye of green in't.
- ANTONIO. He misses not much.
- SEBASTIAN. No; he doth but mistake the truth totally.
- GONZALO. But the rarity of it is, which is indeed almost
- beyond credit-
- SEBASTIAN. As many vouch'd rarities are.
- GONZALO. That our garments, being, as they were, drench'd
- in the sea, hold, notwithstanding, their freshness and
- glosses, being rather new-dy'd, than stain'd with salt
- water.
- ANTONIO. If but one of his pockets could speak, would it
- not say he lies?
- SEBASTIAN. Ay, or very falsely pocket up his report.
- GONZALO. Methinks our garments are now as fresh as when
- we put them on first in Afric, at the marriage of the
- King's fair daughter Claribel to the King of Tunis.
- SEBASTIAN. 'Twas a sweet marriage, and we prosper well in
- our return.
- ADRIAN. Tunis was never grac'd before with such a paragon
- to their queen.
- GONZALO. Not since widow Dido's time.
- ANTONIO. Widow! a pox o' that! How came that 'widow'
- in? Widow Dido!
- SEBASTIAN. What if he had said 'widower Aeneas' too?
- Good Lord, how you take it!
- ADRIAN. 'Widow Dido' said you? You make me study of
- that. She was of Carthage, not of Tunis.
- GONZALO. This Tunis, sir, was Carthage.
- ADRIAN. Carthage?
- GONZALO. I assure you, Carthage.
- ANTONIO. His word is more than the miraculous harp.
- SEBASTIAN. He hath rais'd the wall, and houses too.
- ANTONIO. What impossible matter will he make easy next?
- SEBASTIAN. I think he will carry this island home in his
- pocket, and give it his son for an apple.
- ANTONIO. And, sowing the kernels of it in the sea, bring
- forth more islands.
- GONZALO. Ay.
- ANTONIO. Why, in good time.
- GONZALO. Sir, we were talking that our garments seem now
- as fresh as when we were at Tunis at the marriage of
- your daughter, who is now Queen.
- ANTONIO. And the rarest that e'er came there.
- SEBASTIAN. Bate, I beseech you, widow Dido.
- ANTONIO. O, widow Dido! Ay, widow Dido.
- GONZALO. Is not, sir, my doublet as fresh as the first day I
- wore it? I mean, in a sort.
- ANTONIO. That 'sort' was well fish'd for.
- GONZALO. When I wore it at your daughter's marriage?
- ALONSO. You cram these words into mine ears against
- The stomach of my sense. Would I had never
- Married my daughter there; for, coming thence,
- My son is lost; and, in my rate, she too,
- Who is so far from Italy removed
- I ne'er again shall see her. O thou mine heir
- Of Naples and of Milan, what strange fish
- Hath made his meal on thee?
- FRANCISCO. Sir, he may live;
- I saw him beat the surges under him,
- And ride upon their backs; he trod the water,
- Whose enmity he flung aside, and breasted
- The surge most swoln that met him; his bold head
- 'Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oared
- Himself with his good arms in lusty stroke
- To th' shore, that o'er his wave-worn basis bowed,
- As stooping to relieve him. I not doubt
- He came alive to land.
- ALONSO. No, no, he's gone.
- SEBASTIAN. Sir, you may thank yourself for this great loss,
- That would not bless our Europe with your daughter,
- But rather lose her to an African;
- Where she, at least, is banish'd from your eye,
- Who hath cause to wet the grief on't.
- ALONSO. Prithee, peace.
- SEBASTIAN. You were kneel'd to, and importun'd otherwise
- By all of us; and the fair soul herself
- Weigh'd between loathness and obedience at
- Which end o' th' beam should bow. We have lost your son,
- I fear, for ever. Milan and Naples have
- Moe widows in them of this business' making,
- Than we bring men to comfort them;
- The fault's your own.
- ALONSO. So is the dear'st o' th' loss.
- GONZALO. My lord Sebastian,
- The truth you speak doth lack some gentleness,
- And time to speak it in; you rub the sore,
- When you should bring the plaster.
- SEBASTIAN. Very well.
- ANTONIO. And most chirurgeonly.
- GONZALO. It is foul weather in us all, good sir,
- When you are cloudy.
- SEBASTIAN. Foul weather?
- ANTONIO. Very foul.
- GONZALO. Had I plantation of this isle, my lord-
- ANTONIO. He'd sow 't with nettle-seed.
- SEBASTIAN. Or docks, or mallows.
- GONZALO. And were the king on't, what would I do?
- SEBASTIAN. Scape being drunk for want of wine.
- GONZALO. I' th' commonwealth I would by contraries
- Execute all things; for no kind of traffic
- Would I admit; no name of magistrate;
- Letters should not be known; riches, poverty,
- And use of service, none; contract, succession,
- Bourn, bound of land, tilth, vineyard, none;
- No use of metal, corn, or wine, or oil;
- No occupation; all men idle, all;
- And women too, but innocent and pure;
- No sovereignty-
- SEBASTIAN. Yet he would be king on't.
- ANTONIO. The latter end of his commonwealth forgets the
- beginning.
- GONZALO. All things in common nature should produce
- Without sweat or endeavour. Treason, felony,
- Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine,
- Would I not have; but nature should bring forth,
- Of it own kind, all foison, all abundance,
- To feed my innocent people.
- SEBASTIAN. No marrying 'mong his subjects?
- ANTONIO. None, man; all idle; whores and knaves.
- GONZALO. I would with such perfection govern, sir,
- T' excel the golden age.
- SEBASTIAN. Save his Majesty!
- ANTONIO. Long live Gonzalo!
- GONZALO. And-do you mark me, sir?
- ALONSO. Prithee, no more; thou dost talk nothing to me.
- GONZALO. I do well believe your Highness; and did it to
- minister occasion to these gentlemen, who are of such
- sensible and nimble lungs that they always use to laugh
- at nothing.
- ANTONIO. 'Twas you we laugh'd at.
- GONZALO. Who in this kind of merry fooling am nothing to
- you; so you may continue, and laugh at nothing still.
- ANTONIO. What a blow was there given!
- SEBASTIAN. An it had not fall'n flat-long.
- GONZALO. You are gentlemen of brave mettle; you would
- lift the moon out of her sphere, if she would continue
- in it five weeks without changing.
-
- Enter ARIEL, invisible, playing solemn music
-
- SEBASTIAN. We would so, and then go a-bat-fowling.
- ANTONIO. Nay, good my lord, be not angry.
- GONZALO. No, I warrant you; I will not adventure my
- discretion so weakly. Will you laugh me asleep, for I am
- very heavy?
- ANTONIO. Go sleep, and hear us.
- [All sleep but ALONSO, SEBASTIAN and ANTONIO]
- ALONSO. What, all so soon asleep! I wish mine eyes
- Would, with themselves, shut up my thoughts; I find
- They are inclin'd to do so.
- SEBASTIAN. Please you, sir,
- Do not omit the heavy offer of it:
- It seldom visits sorrow; when it doth,
- It is a comforter.
- ANTONIO. We two, my lord,
- Will guard your person while you take your rest,
- And watch your safety.
- ALONSO. Thank you-wondrous heavy!
- [ALONSO sleeps. Exit ARIEL]
- SEBASTIAN. What a strange drowsiness possesses them!
- ANTONIO. It is the quality o' th' climate.
- SEBASTIAN. Why
- Doth it not then our eyelids sink? I find not
- Myself dispos'd to sleep.
- ANTONIO. Nor I; my spirits are nimble.
- They fell together all, as by consent;
- They dropp'd, as by a thunder-stroke. What might,
- Worthy Sebastian? O, what might! No more!
- And yet methinks I see it in thy face,
- What thou shouldst be; th' occasion speaks thee; and
- My strong imagination sees a crown
- Dropping upon thy head.
- SEBASTIAN. What, art thou waking?
- ANTONIO. Do you not hear me speak?
- SEBASTIAN. I do; and surely
- It is a sleepy language, and thou speak'st
- Out of thy sleep. What is it thou didst say?
- This is a strange repose, to be asleep
- With eyes wide open; standing, speaking, moving,
- And yet so fast asleep.
- ANTONIO. Noble Sebastian,
- Thou let'st thy fortune sleep-die rather; wink'st
- Whiles thou art waking.
- SEBASTIAN. Thou dost snore distinctly;
- There's meaning in thy snores.
- ANTONIO. I am more serious than my custom; you
- Must be so too, if heed me; which to do
- Trebles thee o'er.
- SEBASTIAN. Well, I am standing water.
- ANTONIO. I'll teach you how to flow.
- SEBASTIAN. Do so: to ebb,
- Hereditary sloth instructs me.
- ANTONIO. O,
- If you but knew how you the purpose cherish,
- Whiles thus you mock it! how, in stripping it,
- You more invest it! Ebbing men indeed,
- Most often, do so near the bottom run
- By their own fear or sloth.
- SEBASTIAN. Prithee say on.
- The setting of thine eye and cheek proclaim
- A matter from thee; and a birth, indeed,
- Which throes thee much to yield.
- ANTONIO. Thus, sir:
- Although this lord of weak remembrance, this
- Who shall be of as little memory
- When he is earth'd, hath here almost persuaded-
- For he's a spirit of persuasion, only
- Professes to persuade-the King his son's alive,
- 'Tis as impossible that he's undrown'd
- As he that sleeps here swims.
- SEBASTIAN. I have no hope
- That he's undrown'd.
- ANTONIO. O, out of that 'no hope'
- What great hope have you! No hope that way is
- Another way so high a hope, that even
- Ambition cannot pierce a wink beyond,
- But doubt discovery there. Will you grant with me
- That Ferdinand is drown'd?
- SEBASTIAN. He's gone.
- ANTONIO. Then tell me,
- Who's the next heir of Naples?
- SEBASTIAN. Claribel.
- ANTONIO. She that is Queen of Tunis; she that dwells
- Ten leagues beyond man's life; she that from Naples
- Can have no note, unless the sun were post,
- The Man i' th' Moon's too slow, till newborn chins
- Be rough and razorable; she that from whom
- We all were sea-swallow'd, though some cast again,
- And by that destiny, to perform an act
- Whereof what's past is prologue, what to come
- In yours and my discharge.
- SEBASTIAN. What stuff is this! How say you?
- 'Tis true, my brother's daughter's Queen of Tunis;
- So is she heir of Naples; 'twixt which regions
- There is some space.
- ANTONIO. A space whose ev'ry cubit
- Seems to cry out 'How shall that Claribel
- Measure us back to Naples? Keep in Tunis,
- And let Sebastian wake.' Say this were death
- That now hath seiz'd them; why, they were no worse
- Than now they are. There be that can rule Naples
- As well as he that sleeps; lords that can prate
- As amply and unnecessarily
- As this Gonzalo; I myself could make
- A chough of as deep chat. O, that you bore
- The mind that I do! What a sleep were this
- For your advancement! Do you understand me?
- SEBASTIAN. Methinks I do.
- ANTONIO. And how does your content
- Tender your own good fortune?
- SEBASTIAN. I remember
- You did supplant your brother Prospero.
- ANTONIO. True.
- And look how well my garments sit upon me,
- Much feater than before. My brother's servants
- Were then my fellows; now they are my men.
- SEBASTIAN. But, for your conscience-
- ANTONIO. Ay, sir; where lies that? If 'twere a kibe,
- 'Twould put me to my slipper; but I feel not
- This deity in my bosom; twenty consciences
- That stand 'twixt me and Milan, candied be they
- And melt, ere they molest! Here lies your brother,
- No better than the earth he lies upon,
- If he were that which now he's like-that's dead;
- Whom I with this obedient steel, three inches of it,
- Can lay to bed for ever; whiles you, doing thus,
- To the perpetual wink for aye might put
- This ancient morsel, this Sir Prudence, who
- Should not upbraid our course. For all the rest,
- They'll take suggestion as a cat laps milk;
- They'll tell the clock to any business that
- We say befits the hour.
- SEBASTIAN. Thy case, dear friend,
- Shall be my precedent; as thou got'st Milan,
- I'll come by Naples. Draw thy sword. One stroke
- Shall free thee from the tribute which thou payest;
- And I the King shall love thee.
- ANTONIO. Draw together;
- And when I rear my hand, do you the like,
- To fall it on Gonzalo.
- SEBASTIAN. O, but one word. [They talk apart]
-
- Re-enter ARIEL, invisible, with music and song
-
- ARIEL. My master through his art foresees the danger
- That you, his friend, are in; and sends me forth-
- For else his project dies-to keep them living.
- [Sings in GONZALO'S ear]
- While you here do snoring lie,
- Open-ey'd conspiracy
- His time doth take.
- If of life you keep a care,
- Shake off slumber, and beware.
- Awake, awake!
-
- ANTONIO. Then let us both be sudden.
- GONZALO. Now, good angels
- Preserve the King! [They wake]
- ALONSO. Why, how now?-Ho, awake!-Why are you drawn?
- Wherefore this ghastly looking?
- GONZALO. What's the matter?
- SEBASTIAN. Whiles we stood here securing your repose,
- Even now, we heard a hollow burst of bellowing
- Like bulls, or rather lions; did't not wake you?
- It struck mine ear most terribly.
- ALONSO. I heard nothing.
- ANTONIO. O, 'twas a din to fright a monster's ear,
- To make an earthquake! Sure it was the roar
- Of a whole herd of lions.
- ALONSO. Heard you this, Gonzalo?
- GONZALO. Upon mine honour, sir, I heard a humming,
- And that a strange one too, which did awake me;
- I shak'd you, sir, and cried; as mine eyes open'd,
- I saw their weapons drawn-there was a noise,
- That's verily. 'Tis best we stand upon our guard,
- Or that we quit this place. Let's draw our weapons.
- ALONSO. Lead off this ground; and let's make further
- search
- For my poor son.
- GONZALO. Heavens keep him from these beasts!
- For he is, sure, i' th' island.
- ALONSO. Lead away.
- ARIEL. Prospero my lord shall know what I have done;
- So, King, go safely on to seek thy son. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 2
-
-Another part of the island
-
-Enter CALIBAN, with a burden of wood. A noise of thunder heard
-
- CALIBAN. All the infections that the sun sucks up
- From bogs, fens, flats, on Prosper fall, and make him
- By inch-meal a disease! His spirits hear me,
- And yet I needs must curse. But they'll nor pinch,
- Fright me with urchin-shows, pitch me i' th' mire,
- Nor lead me, like a firebrand, in the dark
- Out of my way, unless he bid 'em; but
- For every trifle are they set upon me;
- Sometime like apes that mow and chatter at me,
- And after bite me; then like hedgehogs which
- Lie tumbling in my barefoot way, and mount
- Their pricks at my footfall; sometime am I
- All wound with adders, who with cloven tongues
- Do hiss me into madness.
-
- Enter TRINCULO
-
- Lo, now, lo!
- Here comes a spirit of his, and to torment me
- For bringing wood in slowly. I'll fall flat;
- Perchance he will not mind me.
- TRINCULO. Here's neither bush nor shrub to bear off any
- weather at all, and another storm brewing; I hear it
- sing i' th' wind. Yond same black cloud, yond huge one,
- looks like a foul bombard that would shed his liquor. If
- it should thunder as it did before, I know not where to
- hide my head. Yond same cloud cannot choose but fall by
- pailfuls. What have we here? a man or a fish? dead or
- alive? A fish: he smells like a fish; a very ancient and
- fish-like smell; kind of not-of-the-newest Poor-John. A
- strange fish! Were I in England now, as once I was, and
- had but this fish painted, not a holiday fool there but
- would give a piece of silver. There would this monster
- make a man; any strange beast there makes a man; when
- they will not give a doit to relieve a lame beggar, they
- will lay out ten to see a dead Indian. Legg'd like a
- man, and his fins like arms! Warm, o' my troth! I do now
- let loose my opinion; hold it no longer: this is no
- fish, but an islander, that hath lately suffered by
- thunderbolt. [Thunder] Alas, the storm is come again! My
- best way is to creep under his gaberdine; there is no
- other shelter hereabout. Misery acquaints a man with
- strange bed-fellows. I will here shroud till the dregs
- of the storm be past.
-
- Enter STEPHANO singing; a bottle in his hand
-
- STEPHANO. I shall no more to sea, to sea,
- Here shall I die ashore-
- This is a very scurvy tune to sing at a man's funeral;
- well, here's my comfort. [Drinks]
-
- The master, the swabber, the boatswain, and I,
- The gunner, and his mate,
- Lov'd Mall, Meg, and Marian, and Margery,
- But none of us car'd for Kate;
- For she had a tongue with a tang,
- Would cry to a sailor 'Go hang!'
- She lov'd not the savour of tar nor of pitch,
- Yet a tailor might scratch her where'er she did itch.
- Then to sea, boys, and let her go hang!
-
- This is a scurvy tune too; but here's my comfort.
- [Drinks]
- CALIBAN. Do not torment me. O!
- STEPHANO. What's the matter? Have we devils here? Do you
- put tricks upon 's with savages and men of Ind? Ha! I
- have not scap'd drowning to be afeard now of your four
- legs; for it hath been said: As proper a man as ever
- went on four legs cannot make him give ground; and it
- shall be said so again, while Stephano breathes at
- nostrils.
- CALIBAN. The spirit torments me. O!
- STEPHANO. This is some monster of the isle with four legs,
- who hath got, as I take it, an ague. Where the devil
- should he learn our language? I will give him some
- relief, if it be but for that. If I can recover him, and
- keep him tame, and get to Naples with him, he's a
- present for any emperor that ever trod on neat's
- leather.
- CALIBAN. Do not torment me, prithee; I'll bring my wood
- home faster.
- STEPHANO. He's in his fit now, and does not talk after the
- wisest. He shall taste of my bottle; if he have never
- drunk wine afore, it will go near to remove his fit. If
- I can recover him, and keep him tame, I will not take
- too much for him; he shall pay for him that hath him,
- and that soundly.
- CALIBAN. Thou dost me yet but little hurt; thou wilt anon,
- I know it by thy trembling; now Prosper works upon thee.
- STEPHANO. Come on your ways; open your mouth; here is
- that which will give language to you, cat. Open your
- mouth; this will shake your shaking, I can tell you, and
- that soundly; you cannot tell who's your friend. Open
- your chaps again.
- TRINCULO. I should know that voice; it should be-but he is
- drown'd; and these are devils. O, defend me!
- STEPHANO. Four legs and two voices; a most delicate monster!
- His forward voice, now, is to speak well of his
- friend; his backward voice is to utter foul speeches and
- to detract. If all the wine in my bottle will recover
- him, I will help his ague. Come-Amen! I will pour some
- in thy other mouth.
- TRINCULO. Stephano!
- STEPHANO. Doth thy other mouth call me? Mercy, mercy!
- This is a devil, and no monster; I will leave him; I
- have no long spoon.
- TRINCULO. Stephano! If thou beest Stephano, touch me, and
- speak to me; for I am Trinculo-be not afeard-thy good
- friend Trinculo.
- STEPHANO. If thou beest Trinculo, come forth; I'll pull
- the by the lesser legs; if any be Trinculo's legs, these
- are they. Thou art very Trinculo indeed! How cam'st thou
- to be the siege of this moon-calf? Can he vent
- Trinculos?
- TRINCULO. I took him to be kill'd with a thunderstroke.
- But art thou not drown'd, Stephano? I hope now thou are
- not drown'd. Is the storm overblown? I hid me under the
- dead moon-calf's gaberdine for fear of the storm. And
- art thou living, Stephano? O Stephano, two Neapolitans
- scap'd!
- STEPHANO. Prithee, do not turn me about; my stomach is not
- constant.
- CALIBAN. [Aside] These be fine things, an if they be not
- sprites.
- That's a brave god, and bears celestial liquor.
- I will kneel to him.
- STEPHANO. How didst thou scape? How cam'st thou hither?
- Swear by this bottle how thou cam'st hither-I escap'd
- upon a butt of sack, which the sailors heaved o'erboard-
- by this bottle, which I made of the bark of a tree, with
- mine own hands, since I was cast ashore.
- CALIBAN. I'll swear upon that bottle to be thy true
- subject, for the liquor is not earthly.
- STEPHANO. Here; swear then how thou escap'dst.
- TRINCULO. Swum ashore, man, like a duck; I can swim like
- a duck, I'll be sworn.
- STEPHANO. [Passing the bottle] Here, kiss the book. Though
- thou canst swim like a duck, thou art made like a
- goose.
- TRINCULO. O Stephano, hast any more of this?
- STEPHANO. The whole butt, man; my cellar is in a rock by
- th' seaside, where my wine is hid. How now, moon-calf!
- How does thine ague?
- CALIBAN. Hast thou not dropp'd from heaven?
- STEPHANO. Out o' th' moon, I do assure thee; I was the Man
- i' th' Moon, when time was.
- CALIBAN. I have seen thee in her, and I do adore thee. My
- mistress show'd me thee, and thy dog and thy bush.
- STEPHANO. Come, swear to that; kiss the book. I will
- furnish it anon with new contents. Swear.
- [CALIBAN drinks]
- TRINCULO. By this good light, this is a very shallow
- monster!
- I afeard of him! A very weak monster! The Man i' th'
- Moon! A most poor credulous monster! Well drawn,
- monster, in good sooth!
- CALIBAN. I'll show thee every fertile inch o' th' island;
- and will kiss thy foot. I prithee be my god.
- TRINCULO. By this light, a most perfidious and drunken
- monster! When's god's asleep he'll rob his bottle.
- CALIBAN. I'll kiss thy foot; I'll swear myself thy
- subject.
- STEPHANO. Come on, then; down, and swear.
- TRINCULO. I shall laugh myself to death at this puppy-
- headed monster. A most scurvy monster! I could find in
- my heart to beat him-
- STEPHANO. Come, kiss.
- TRINCULO. But that the poor monster's in drink. An
- abominable monster!
- CALIBAN. I'll show thee the best springs; I'll pluck thee
- berries;
- I'll fish for thee, and get thee wood enough.
- A plague upon the tyrant that I serve!
- I'll bear him no more sticks, but follow thee,
- Thou wondrous man.
- TRINCULO. A most ridiculous monster, to make a wonder of
- a poor drunkard!
- CALIBAN. I prithee let me bring thee where crabs grow;
- And I with my long nails will dig thee pig-nuts;
- Show thee a jay's nest, and instruct thee how
- To snare the nimble marmoset; I'll bring thee
- To clust'ring filberts, and sometimes I'll get thee
- Young scamels from the rock. Wilt thou go with me?
- STEPHANO. I prithee now, lead the way without any more
- talking. Trinculo, the King and all our company else
- being drown'd, we will inherit here. Here, bear my bottle.
- Fellow Trinculo, we'll fill him by and by again.
- CALIBAN. [Sings drunkenly] Farewell, master; farewell,
- farewell!
- TRINCULO. A howling monster; a drunken monster!
- CALIBAN. No more dams I'll make for fish;
- Nor fetch in firing
- At requiring,
- Nor scrape trenchering, nor wash dish.
- 'Ban 'Ban, Ca-Caliban,
- Has a new master-Get a new man.
- Freedom, high-day! high-day, freedom! freedom, high-
- day, freedom!
- STEPHANO. O brave monster! Lead the way. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT III. SCENE 1
-
-Before PROSPERO'S cell
-
-Enter FERDINAND, hearing a log
-
- FERDINAND. There be some sports are painful, and their
- labour
- Delight in them sets off; some kinds of baseness
- Are nobly undergone, and most poor matters
- Point to rich ends. This my mean task
- Would be as heavy to me as odious, but
- The mistress which I serve quickens what's dead,
- And makes my labours pleasures. O, she is
- Ten times more gentle than her father's crabbed;
- And he's compos'd of harshness. I must remove
- Some thousands of these logs, and pile them up,
- Upon a sore injunction; my sweet mistress
- Weeps when she sees me work, and says such baseness
- Had never like executor. I forget;
- But these sweet thoughts do even refresh my labours,
- Most busy, least when I do it.
-
- Enter MIRANDA; and PROSPERO at a distance, unseen
-
- MIRANDA. Alas, now; pray you,
- Work not so hard; I would the lightning had
- Burnt up those logs that you are enjoin'd to pile.
- Pray, set it down and rest you; when this burns,
- 'Twill weep for having wearied you. My father
- Is hard at study; pray, now, rest yourself;
- He's safe for these three hours.
- FERDINAND. O most dear mistress,
- The sun will set before I shall discharge
- What I must strive to do.
- MIRANDA. If you'll sit down,
- I'll bear your logs the while; pray give me that;
- I'll carry it to the pile.
- FERDINAND. No, precious creature;
- I had rather crack my sinews, break my back,
- Than you should such dishonour undergo,
- While I sit lazy by.
- MIRANDA. It would become me
- As well as it does you; and I should do it
- With much more ease; for my good will is to it,
- And yours it is against.
- PROSPERO. [Aside] Poor worm, thou art infected!
- This visitation shows it.
- MIRANDA. You look wearily.
- FERDINAND. No, noble mistress; 'tis fresh morning with me
- When you are by at night. I do beseech you,
- Chiefly that I might set it in my prayers,
- What is your name?
- MIRANDA. Miranda-O my father,
- I have broke your hest to say so!
- FERDINAND. Admir'd Miranda!
- What's dearest to the world! Full many a lady
- I have ey'd with best regard; and many a time
- Th' harmony of their tongues hath into bondage
- Brought my too diligent ear; for several virtues
- Have I lik'd several women, never any
- With so full soul, but some defect in her
- Did quarrel with the noblest grace she ow'd,
- And put it to the foil; but you, O you,
- So perfect and so peerless, are created
- Of every creature's best!
- MIRANDA. I do not know
- One of my sex; no woman's face remember,
- Save, from my glass, mine own; nor have I seen
- More that I may call men than you, good friend,
- And my dear father. How features are abroad,
- I am skilless of; but, by my modesty,
- The jewel in my dower, I would not wish
- Any companion in the world but you;
- Nor can imagination form a shape,
- Besides yourself, to like of. But I prattle
- Something too wildly, and my father's precepts
- I therein do forget.
- FERDINAND. I am, in my condition,
- A prince, Miranda; I do think, a king-
- I would not so!-and would no more endure
- This wooden slavery than to suffer
- The flesh-fly blow my mouth. Hear my soul speak:
- The very instant that I saw you, did
- My heart fly to your service; there resides
- To make me slave to it; and for your sake
- Am I this patient log-man.
- MIRANDA. Do you love me?
- FERDINAND. O heaven, O earth, bear witness to this sound,
- And crown what I profess with kind event,
- If I speak true! If hollowly, invert
- What best is boded me to mischief! I,
- Beyond all limit of what else i' th' world,
- Do love, prize, honour you.
- MIRANDA. I am a fool
- To weep at what I am glad of.
- PROSPERO. [Aside] Fair encounter
- Of two most rare affections! Heavens rain grace
- On that which breeds between 'em!
- FERDINAND. Wherefore weep you?
- MIRANDA. At mine unworthiness, that dare not offer
- What I desire to give, and much less take
- What I shall die to want. But this is trifling;
- And all the more it seeks to hide itself,
- The bigger bulk it shows. Hence, bashful cunning!
- And prompt me, plain and holy innocence!
- I am your wife, if you will marry me;
- If not, I'll die your maid. To be your fellow
- You may deny me; but I'll be your servant,
- Whether you will or no.
- FERDINAND. My mistress, dearest;
- And I thus humble ever.
- MIRANDA. My husband, then?
- FERDINAND. Ay, with a heart as willing
- As bondage e'er of freedom. Here's my hand.
- MIRANDA. And mine, with my heart in't. And now farewell
- Till half an hour hence.
- FERDINAND. A thousand thousand!
- Exeunt FERDINAND and MIRANDA severally
- PROSPERO. So glad of this as they I cannot be,
- Who are surpris'd withal; but my rejoicing
- At nothing can be more. I'll to my book;
- For yet ere supper time must I perform
- Much business appertaining. Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 2
-
-Another part of the island
-
-Enter CALIBAN, STEPHANO, and TRINCULO
-
- STEPHANO. Tell not me-when the butt is out we will drink
- water, not a drop before; therefore bear up, and board
- 'em. Servant-monster, drink to me.
- TRINCULO. Servant-monster! The folly of this island! They
- say there's but five upon this isle: we are three of
- them; if th' other two be brain'd like us, the state
- totters.
- STEPHANO. Drink, servant-monster, when I bid thee; thy
- eyes are almost set in thy head.
- TRINCULO. Where should they be set else? He were a brave
- monster indeed, if they were set in his tail.
- STEPHANO. My man-monster hath drown'd his tongue in
- sack. For my part, the sea cannot drown me; I swam, ere
- I could recover the shore, five and thirty leagues, off
- and on. By this light, thou shalt be my lieutenant,
- monster, or my standard.
- TRINCULO. Your lieutenant, if you list; he's no standard.
- STEPHANO. We'll not run, Monsieur Monster.
- TRINCULO. Nor go neither; but you'll lie like dogs, and
- yet say nothing neither.
- STEPHANO. Moon-calf, speak once in thy life, if thou beest
- a good moon-calf.
- CALIBAN. How does thy honour? Let me lick thy shoe.
- I'll not serve him; he is not valiant.
- TRINCULO. Thou liest, most ignorant monster: I am in case
- to justle a constable. Why, thou debosh'd fish, thou,
- was there ever man a coward that hath drunk so much sack
- as I to-day? Wilt thou tell a monstrous lie, being but
- half fish and half a monster?
- CALIBAN. Lo, how he mocks me! Wilt thou let him, my
- lord?
- TRINCULO. 'Lord' quoth he! That a monster should be such
- a natural!
- CALIBAN. Lo, lo again! Bite him to death, I prithee.
- STEPHANO. Trinculo, keep a good tongue in your head; if
- you prove a mutineer-the next tree! The poor monster's
- my subject, and he shall not suffer indignity.
- CALIBAN. I thank my noble lord. Wilt thou be pleas'd to
- hearken once again to the suit I made to thee?
- STEPHANO. Marry will I; kneel and repeat it; I will stand,
- and so shall Trinculo.
-
- Enter ARIEL, invisible
-
- CALIBAN. As I told thee before, I am subject to a tyrant,
- sorcerer, that by his cunning hath cheated me of the
- island.
- ARIEL. Thou liest.
- CALIBAN. Thou liest, thou jesting monkey, thou;
- I would my valiant master would destroy thee.
- I do not lie.
- STEPHANO. Trinculo, if you trouble him any more in's tale,
- by this hand, I will supplant some of your teeth.
- TRINCULO. Why, I said nothing.
- STEPHANO. Mum, then, and no more. Proceed.
- CALIBAN. I say, by sorcery he got this isle;
- From me he got it. If thy greatness will
- Revenge it on him-for I know thou dar'st,
- But this thing dare not-
- STEPHANO. That's most certain.
- CALIBAN. Thou shalt be lord of it, and I'll serve thee.
- STEPHANO. How now shall this be compass'd? Canst thou
- bring me to the party?
- CALIBAN. Yea, yea, my lord; I'll yield him thee asleep,
- Where thou mayst knock a nail into his head.
- ARIEL. Thou liest; thou canst not.
- CALIBAN. What a pied ninny's this! Thou scurvy patch!
- I do beseech thy greatness, give him blows,
- And take his bottle from him. When that's gone
- He shall drink nought but brine; for I'll not show him
- Where the quick freshes are.
- STEPHANO. Trinculo, run into no further danger; interrupt
- the monster one word further and, by this hand, I'll turn
- my mercy out o' doors, and make a stock-fish of thee.
- TRINCULO. Why, what did I? I did nothing. I'll go farther
- off.
- STEPHANO. Didst thou not say he lied?
- ARIEL. Thou liest.
- STEPHANO. Do I so? Take thou that. [Beats him] As you like
- this, give me the lie another time.
- TRINCULO. I did not give the lie. Out o' your wits and
- hearing too? A pox o' your bottle! This can sack and
- drinking do. A murrain on your monster, and the devil
- take your fingers!
- CALIBAN. Ha, ha, ha!
- STEPHANO. Now, forward with your tale.-Prithee stand
- further off.
- CALIBAN. Beat him enough; after a little time, I'll beat
- him too.
- STEPHANO. Stand farther. Come, proceed.
- CALIBAN. Why, as I told thee, 'tis a custom with him
- I' th' afternoon to sleep; there thou mayst brain him,
- Having first seiz'd his books; or with a log
- Batter his skull, or paunch him with a stake,
- Or cut his wezand with thy knife. Remember
- First to possess his books; for without them
- He's but a sot, as I am, nor hath not
- One spirit to command; they all do hate him
- As rootedly as I. Burn but his books.
- He has brave utensils-for so he calls them-
- Which, when he has a house, he'll deck withal.
- And that most deeply to consider is
- The beauty of his daughter; he himself
- Calls her a nonpareil. I never saw a woman
- But only Sycorax my dam and she;
- But she as far surpasseth Sycorax
- As great'st does least.
- STEPHANO. Is it so brave a lass?
- CALIBAN. Ay, lord; she will become thy bed, I warrant,
- And bring thee forth brave brood.
- STEPHANO. Monster, I will kill this man; his daughter and I
- will be King and Queen-save our Graces!-and Trinculo
- and thyself shall be viceroys. Dost thou like the plot,
- Trinculo?
- TRINCULO. Excellent.
- STEPHANO. Give me thy hand; I am sorry I beat thee; but
- while thou liv'st, keep a good tongue in thy head.
- CALIBAN. Within this half hour will he be asleep.
- Wilt thou destroy him then?
- STEPHANO. Ay, on mine honour.
- ARIEL. This will I tell my master.
- CALIBAN. Thou mak'st me merry; I am full of pleasure.
- Let us be jocund; will you troll the catch
- You taught me but while-ere?
- STEPHANO. At thy request, monster, I will do reason, any
- reason. Come on, Trinculo, let us sing. [Sings]
-
- Flout 'em and scout 'em,
- And scout 'em and flout 'em;
- Thought is free.
-
- CALIBAN. That's not the tune.
- [ARIEL plays the tune on a tabor and pipe]
- STEPHANO. What is this same?
- TRINCULO. This is the tune of our catch, play'd by the
- picture of Nobody.
- STEPHANO. If thou beest a man, show thyself in thy
- likeness; if thou beest a devil, take't as thou list.
- TRINCULO. O, forgive me my sins!
- STEPHANO. He that dies pays all debts. I defy thee. Mercy
- upon us!
- CALIBAN. Art thou afeard?
- STEPHANO. No, monster, not I.
- CALIBAN. Be not afeard. The isle is full of noises,
- Sounds, and sweet airs, that give delight, and hurt not.
- Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments
- Will hum about mine ears; and sometimes voices,
- That, if I then had wak'd after long sleep,
- Will make me sleep again; and then, in dreaming,
- The clouds methought would open and show riches
- Ready to drop upon me, that, when I wak'd,
- I cried to dream again.
- STEPHANO. This will prove a brave kingdom to me, where I
- shall have my music for nothing.
- CALIBAN. When Prospero is destroy'd.
- STEPHANO. That shall be by and by; I remember the story.
- TRINCULO. The sound is going away; let's follow it, and
- after do our work.
- STEPHANO. Lead, monster; we'll follow. I would I could see
- this taborer; he lays it on.
- TRINCULO. Wilt come? I'll follow, Stephano. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE 3
-
-Another part of the island
-
-Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, GONZALO, ADRIAN, FRANCISCO, and OTHERS
-
- GONZALO. By'r lakin, I can go no further, sir;
- My old bones ache. Here's a maze trod, indeed,
- Through forth-rights and meanders! By your patience,
- I needs must rest me.
- ALONSO. Old lord, I cannot blame thee,
- Who am myself attach'd with weariness
- To th' dulling of my spirits; sit down and rest.
- Even here I will put off my hope, and keep it
- No longer for my flatterer; he is drown'd
- Whom thus we stray to find, and the sea mocks
- Our frustrate search on land. Well, let him go.
- ANTONIO. [Aside to SEBASTIAN] I am right glad that he's
- so out of hope.
- Do not, for one repulse, forgo the purpose
- That you resolv'd t' effect.
- SEBASTIAN. [Aside to ANTONIO] The next advantage
- Will we take throughly.
- ANTONIO. [Aside to SEBASTIAN] Let it be to-night;
- For, now they are oppress'd with travel, they
- Will not, nor cannot, use such vigilance
- As when they are fresh.
- SEBASTIAN. [Aside to ANTONIO] I say, to-night; no more.
-
- Solemn and strange music; and PROSPERO on the
- top, invisible. Enter several strange SHAPES,
- bringing in a banquet; and dance about it with
- gentle actions of salutations; and inviting the
- KING, etc., to eat, they depart
-
- ALONSO. What harmony is this? My good friends, hark!
- GONZALO. Marvellous sweet music!
- ALONSO. Give us kind keepers, heavens! What were these?
- SEBASTIAN. A living drollery. Now I will believe
- That there are unicorns; that in Arabia
- There is one tree, the phoenix' throne, one phoenix
- At this hour reigning-there.
- ANTONIO. I'll believe both;
- And what does else want credit, come to me,
- And I'll be sworn 'tis true; travellers ne'er did lie,
- Though fools at home condemn 'em.
- GONZALO. If in Naples
- I should report this now, would they believe me?
- If I should say, I saw such islanders,
- For certes these are people of the island,
- Who though they are of monstrous shape yet, note,
- Their manners are more gentle-kind than of
- Our human generation you shall find
- Many, nay, almost any.
- PROSPERO. [Aside] Honest lord,
- Thou hast said well; for some of you there present
- Are worse than devils.
- ALONSO. I cannot too much muse
- Such shapes, such gesture, and such sound, expressing,
- Although they want the use of tongue, a kind
- Of excellent dumb discourse.
- PROSPERO. [Aside] Praise in departing.
- FRANCISCO. They vanish'd strangely.
- SEBASTIAN. No matter, since
- They have left their viands behind; for we have stomachs.
- Will't please you taste of what is here?
- ALONSO. Not I.
- GONZALO. Faith, sir, you need not fear. When we were boys,
- Who would believe that there were mountaineers,
- Dewlapp'd like bulls, whose throats had hanging at 'em
- Wallets of flesh? or that there were such men
- Whose heads stood in their breasts? which now we find
- Each putter-out of five for one will bring us
- Good warrant of.
- ALONSO. I will stand to, and feed,
- Although my last; no matter, since I feel
- The best is past. Brother, my lord the Duke,
- Stand to, and do as we.
-
- Thunder and lightning. Enter ARIEL, like a harpy;
- claps his wings upon the table; and, with a quaint
- device, the banquet vanishes
-
- ARIEL. You are three men of sin, whom Destiny,
- That hath to instrument this lower world
- And what is in't, the never-surfeited sea
- Hath caus'd to belch up you; and on this island
- Where man doth not inhabit-you 'mongst men
- Being most unfit to live. I have made you mad;
- And even with such-like valour men hang and drown
- Their proper selves.
- [ALONSO, SEBASTIAN etc., draw their swords]
- You fools! I and my fellows
- Are ministers of Fate; the elements
- Of whom your swords are temper'd may as well
- Wound the loud winds, or with bemock'd-at stabs
- Kill the still-closing waters, as diminish
- One dowle that's in my plume; my fellow-ministers
- Are like invulnerable. If you could hurt,
- Your swords are now too massy for your strengths
- And will not be uplifted. But remember-
- For that's my business to you-that you three
- From Milan did supplant good Prospero;
- Expos'd unto the sea, which hath requit it,
- Him, and his innocent child; for which foul deed
- The pow'rs, delaying, not forgetting, have
- Incens'd the seas and shores, yea, all the creatures,
- Against your peace. Thee of thy son, Alonso,
- They have bereft; and do pronounce by me
- Ling'ring perdition, worse than any death
- Can be at once, shall step by step attend
- You and your ways; whose wraths to guard you from-
- Which here, in this most desolate isle, else falls
- Upon your heads-is nothing but heart's sorrow,
- And a clear life ensuing.
-
- He vanishes in thunder; then, to soft music, enter
- the SHAPES again, and dance, with mocks and mows,
- and carrying out the table
-
- PROSPERO. Bravely the figure of this harpy hast thou
- Perform'd, my Ariel; a grace it had, devouring.
- Of my instruction hast thou nothing bated
- In what thou hadst to say; so, with good life
- And observation strange, my meaner ministers
- Their several kinds have done. My high charms work,
- And these mine enemies are all knit up
- In their distractions. They now are in my pow'r;
- And in these fits I leave them, while I visit
- Young Ferdinand, whom they suppose is drown'd,
- And his and mine lov'd darling. Exit above
- GONZALO. I' th' name of something holy, sir, why stand you
- In this strange stare?
- ALONSO. O, it is monstrous, monstrous!
- Methought the billows spoke, and told me of it;
- The winds did sing it to me; and the thunder,
- That deep and dreadful organ-pipe, pronounc'd
- The name of Prosper; it did bass my trespass.
- Therefore my son i' th' ooze is bedded; and
- I'll seek him deeper than e'er plummet sounded,
- And with him there lie mudded. Exit
- SEBASTIAN. But one fiend at a time,
- I'll fight their legions o'er.
- ANTONIO. I'll be thy second. Exeunt SEBASTIAN and ANTONIO
- GONZALO. All three of them are desperate; their great guilt,
- Like poison given to work a great time after,
- Now gins to bite the spirits. I do beseech you,
- That are of suppler joints, follow them swiftly,
- And hinder them from what this ecstasy
- May now provoke them to.
- ADRIAN. Follow, I pray you. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-ACT IV. SCENE 1
-
-Before PROSPERO'S cell
-
-Enter PROSPERO, FERDINAND, and MIRANDA
-
- PROSPERO. If I have too austerely punish'd you,
- Your compensation makes amends; for
- Have given you here a third of mine own life,
- Or that for which I live; who once again
- I tender to thy hand. All thy vexations
- Were but my trials of thy love, and thou
- Hast strangely stood the test; here, afore heaven,
- I ratify this my rich gift. O Ferdinand!
- Do not smile at me that I boast her off,
- For thou shalt find she will outstrip all praise,
- And make it halt behind her.
- FERDINAND. I do believe it
- Against an oracle.
- PROSPERO. Then, as my gift, and thine own acquisition
- Wort'hily purchas'd, take my daughter. But
- If thou dost break her virgin-knot before
- All sanctimonious ceremonies may
- With full and holy rite be minist'red,
- No sweet aspersion shall the heavens let fall
- To make this contract grow; but barren hate,
- Sour-ey'd disdain, and discord, shall bestrew
- The union of your bed with weeds so loathly
- That you shall hate it both. Therefore take heed,
- As Hymen's lamps shall light you.
- FERDINAND. As I hope
- For quiet days, fair issue, and long life,
- With such love as 'tis now, the murkiest den,
- The most opportune place, the strong'st suggestion
- Our worser genius can, shall never melt
- Mine honour into lust, to take away
- The edge of that day's celebration,
- When I shall think or Phoebus' steeds are founder'd
- Or Night kept chain'd below.
- PROSPERO. Fairly spoke.
- Sit, then, and talk with her; she is thine own.
- What, Ariel! my industrious servant, Ariel!
-
- Enter ARIEL
-
- ARIEL. What would my potent master? Here I am.
- PROSPERO. Thou and thy meaner fellows your last service
- Did worthily perform; and I must use you
- In such another trick. Go bring the rabble,
- O'er whom I give thee pow'r, here to this place.
- Incite them to quick motion; for I must
- Bestow upon the eyes of this young couple
- Some vanity of mine art; it is my promise,
- And they expect it from me.
- ARIEL. Presently?
- PROSPERO. Ay, with a twink.
- ARIEL. Before you can say 'come' and 'go,'
- And breathe twice, and cry 'so, so,'
- Each one, tripping on his toe,
- Will be here with mop and mow.
- Do you love me, master? No?
- PROSPERO. Dearly, my delicate Ariel. Do not approach
- Till thou dost hear me call.
- ARIEL. Well! I conceive. Exit
- PROSPERO. Look thou be true; do not give dalliance
- Too much the rein; the strongest oaths are straw
- To th' fire i' th' blood. Be more abstemious,
- Or else good night your vow!
- FERDINAND. I warrant you, sir,
- The white cold virgin snow upon my heart
- Abates the ardour of my liver.
- PROSPERO. Well!
- Now come, my Ariel, bring a corollary,
- Rather than want a spirit; appear, and pertly.
- No tongue! All eyes! Be silent. [Soft music]
-
- Enter IRIS
-
- IRIS. Ceres, most bounteous lady, thy rich leas
- Of wheat, rye, barley, vetches, oats, and pease;
- Thy turfy mountains, where live nibbling sheep,
- And flat meads thatch'd with stover, them to keep;
- Thy banks with pioned and twilled brims,
- Which spongy April at thy hest betrims,
- To make cold nymphs chaste crowns; and thy broom groves,
- Whose shadow the dismissed bachelor loves,
- Being lass-lorn; thy pole-clipt vineyard;
- And thy sea-marge, sterile and rocky hard,
- Where thou thyself dost air-the Queen o' th' sky,
- Whose wat'ry arch and messenger am I,
- Bids thee leave these; and with her sovereign grace,
- Here on this grass-plot, in this very place,
- To come and sport. Her peacocks fly amain.
- [JUNO descends in her car]
- Approach, rich Ceres, her to entertain.
-
- Enter CERES
-
- CERES. Hail, many-coloured messenger, that ne'er
- Dost disobey the wife of Jupiter;
- Who, with thy saffron wings, upon my flow'rs
- Diffusest honey drops, refreshing show'rs;
- And with each end of thy blue bow dost crown
- My bosky acres and my unshrubb'd down,
- Rich scarf to my proud earth-why hath thy Queen
- Summon'd me hither to this short-grass'd green?
- IRIS. A contract of true love to celebrate,
- And some donation freely to estate
- On the blest lovers.
- CERES. Tell me, heavenly bow,
- If Venus or her son, as thou dost know,
- Do now attend the Queen? Since they did plot
- The means that dusky Dis my daughter got,
- Her and her blind boy's scandal'd company
- I have forsworn.
- IRIS. Of her society
- Be not afraid. I met her Deity
- Cutting the clouds towards Paphos, and her son
- Dove-drawn with her. Here thought they to have done
- Some wanton charm upon this man and maid,
- Whose vows are that no bed-rite shall be paid
- Till Hymen's torch be lighted; but in vain.
- Mars's hot minion is return'd again;
- Her waspish-headed son has broke his arrows,
- Swears he will shoot no more, but play with sparrows,
- And be a boy right out. [JUNO alights]
- CERES. Highest Queen of State,
- Great Juno, comes; I know her by her gait.
- JUNO. How does my bounteous sister? Go with me
- To bless this twain, that they may prosperous be,
- And honour'd in their issue. [They sing]
- JUNO. Honour, riches, marriage-blessing,
- Long continuance, and increasing,
- Hourly joys be still upon you!
- Juno sings her blessings on you.
- CERES. Earth's increase, foison plenty,
- Barns and gamers never empty;
- Vines with clust'ring bunches growing,
- Plants with goodly burden bowing;
- Spring come to you at the farthest,
- In the very end of harvest!
- Scarcity and want shall shun you,
- Ceres' blessing so is on you.
- FERDINAND. This is a most majestic vision, and
- Harmonious charmingly. May I be bold
- To think these spirits?
- PROSPERO. Spirits, which by mine art
- I have from their confines call'd to enact
- My present fancies.
- FERDINAND. Let me live here ever;
- So rare a wond'red father and a wise
- Makes this place Paradise.
- [JUNO and CERES whisper, and send IRIS on employment]
- PROSPERO. Sweet now, silence;
- Juno and Ceres whisper seriously.
- There's something else to do; hush, and be mute,
- Or else our spell is marr'd.
- IRIS. You nymphs, call'd Naiads, of the wind'ring brooks,
- With your sedg'd crowns and ever harmless looks,
- Leave your crisp channels, and on this green land
- Answer your summons; Juno does command.
- Come, temperate nymphs, and help to celebrate
- A contract of true love; be not too late.
-
- Enter certain NYMPHS
-
- You sun-burnt sicklemen, of August weary,
- Come hither from the furrow, and be merry;
- Make holiday; your rye-straw hats put on,
- And these fresh nymphs encounter every one
- In country footing.
-
- Enter certain REAPERS, properly habited; they join
- with the NYMPHS in a graceful dance; towards the
- end whereof PROSPERO starts suddenly, and speaks,
- after which, to a strange, hollow, and confused
- noise, they heavily vanish
-
- PROSPERO. [Aside] I had forgot that foul conspiracy
- Of the beast Caliban and his confederates
- Against my life; the minute of their plot
- Is almost come. [To the SPIRITS] Well done; avoid; no
- more!
- FERDINAND. This is strange; your father's in some passion
- That works him strongly.
- MIRANDA. Never till this day
- Saw I him touch'd with anger so distemper'd.
- PROSPERO. You do look, my son, in a mov'd sort,
- As if you were dismay'd; be cheerful, sir.
- Our revels now are ended. These our actors,
- As I foretold you, were all spirits, and
- Are melted into air, into thin air;
- And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,
- The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces,
- The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
- Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
- And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
- Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
- As dreams are made on; and our little life
- Is rounded with a sleep. Sir, I am vex'd;
- Bear with my weakness; my old brain is troubled;
- Be not disturb'd with my infirmity.
- If you be pleas'd, retire into my cell
- And there repose; a turn or two I'll walk
- To still my beating mind.
- FERDINAND, MIRANDA. We wish your peace. Exeunt
- PROSPERO. Come, with a thought. I thank thee, Ariel; come.
-
- Enter ARIEL
-
- ARIEL. Thy thoughts I cleave to. What's thy pleasure?
- PROSPERO. Spirit,
- We must prepare to meet with Caliban.
- ARIEL. Ay, my commander. When I presented 'Ceres.'
- I thought to have told thee of it; but I fear'd
- Lest I might anger thee.
- PROSPERO. Say again, where didst thou leave these varlets?
- ARIEL. I told you, sir, they were red-hot with drinking;
- So full of valour that they smote the air
- For breathing in their faces; beat the ground
- For kissing of their feet; yet always bending
- Towards their project. Then I beat my tabor,
- At which like unback'd colts they prick'd their ears,
- Advanc'd their eyelids, lifted up their noses
- As they smelt music; so I charm'd their cars,
- That calf-like they my lowing follow'd through
- Tooth'd briers, sharp furzes, pricking goss, and thorns,
- Which ent'red their frail shins. At last I left them
- I' th' filthy mantled pool beyond your cell,
- There dancing up to th' chins, that the foul lake
- O'erstunk their feet.
- PROSPERO. This was well done, my bird.
- Thy shape invisible retain thou still.
- The trumpery in my house, go bring it hither
- For stale to catch these thieves.
- ARIEL. I go, I go. Exit
- PROSPERO. A devil, a born devil, on whose nature
- Nurture can never stick; on whom my pains,
- Humanely taken, all, all lost, quite lost;
- And as with age his body uglier grows,
- So his mind cankers. I will plague them all,
- Even to roaring.
-
- Re-enter ARIEL, loaden with glistering apparel, &c.
-
- Come, hang them on this line.
- [PROSPERO and ARIEL remain, invisible]
-
- Enter CALIBAN, STEPHANO, and TRINCULO, all wet
-
- CALIBAN. Pray you, tread softly, that the blind mole may not
- Hear a foot fall; we now are near his cell.
- STEPHANO. Monster, your fairy, which you say is a harmless
- fairy, has done little better than play'd the Jack with us.
- TRINCULO. Monster, I do smell all horse-piss at which my
- nose is in great indignation.
- STEPHANO. So is mine. Do you hear, monster? If I should
- take a displeasure against you, look you-
- TRINCULO. Thou wert but a lost monster.
- CALIBAN. Good my lord, give me thy favour still.
- Be patient, for the prize I'll bring thee to
- Shall hoodwink this mischance; therefore speak softly.
- All's hush'd as midnight yet.
- TRINCULO. Ay, but to lose our bottles in the pool!
- STEPHANO. There is not only disgrace and dishonour in
- that, monster, but an infinite loss.
- TRINCULO. That's more to me than my wetting; yet this is
- your harmless fairy, monster.
- STEPHANO. I will fetch off my bottle, though I be o'er
- ears for my labour.
- CALIBAN. Prithee, my king, be quiet. Seest thou here,
- This is the mouth o' th' cell; no noise, and enter.
- Do that good mischief which may make this island
- Thine own for ever, and I, thy Caliban,
- For aye thy foot-licker.
- STEPHANO. Give me thy hand. I do begin to have bloody
- thoughts.
- TRINCULO. O King Stephano! O peer! O worthy Stephano!
- Look what a wardrobe here is for thee!
- CALIBAN. Let it alone, thou fool; it is but trash.
- TRINCULO. O, ho, monster; we know what belongs to a
- frippery. O King Stephano!
- STEPHANO. Put off that gown, Trinculo; by this hand, I'll
- have that gown.
- TRINCULO. Thy Grace shall have it.
- CALIBAN. The dropsy drown this fool! What do you mean
- To dote thus on such luggage? Let 't alone,
- And do the murder first. If he awake,
- From toe to crown he'll fill our skins with pinches;
- Make us strange stuff.
- STEPHANO. Be you quiet, monster. Mistress line, is not
- this my jerkin? Now is the jerkin under the line; now,
- jerkin, you are like to lose your hair, and prove a bald
- jerkin.
- TRINCULO. Do, do. We steal by line and level, an't like
- your Grace.
- STEPHANO. I thank thee for that jest; here's a garment
- for't. Wit shall not go unrewarded while I am king of
- this country. 'Steal by line and level' is an excellent
- pass of pate; there's another garmet for't.
- TRINCULO. Monster, come, put some lime upon your fingers,
- and away with the rest.
- CALIBAN. I will have none on't. We shall lose our time,
- And all be turn'd to barnacles, or to apes
- With foreheads villainous low.
- STEPHANO. Monster, lay-to your fingers; help to bear this
- away where my hogshead of wine is, or I'll turn you out
- of my kingdom. Go to, carry this.
- TRINCULO. And this.
- STEPHANO. Ay, and this.
-
- A noise of hunters beard. Enter divers SPIRITS, in
- shape of dogs and hounds, bunting them about;
- PROSPERO and ARIEL setting them on
-
- PROSPERO. Hey, Mountain, hey!
- ARIEL. Silver! there it goes, Silver!
- PROSPERO. Fury, Fury! There, Tyrant, there! Hark, hark!
- [CALIBAN, STEPHANO, and TRINCULO are driven out]
- Go charge my goblins that they grind their joints
- With dry convulsions, shorten up their sinews
- With aged cramps, and more pinch-spotted make them
- Than pard or cat o' mountain.
- ARIEL. Hark, they roar.
- PROSPERO. Let them be hunted soundly. At this hour
- Lies at my mercy all mine enemies.
- Shortly shall all my labours end, and thou
- Shalt have the air at freedom; for a little
- Follow, and do me service. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-ACT V. SCENE 1
-
-Before PROSPERO'S cell
-
-Enter PROSPERO in his magic robes, and ARIEL
-
- PROSPERO. Now does my project gather to a head;
- My charms crack not, my spirits obey; and time
- Goes upright with his carriage. How's the day?
- ARIEL. On the sixth hour; at which time, my lord,
- You said our work should cease.
- PROSPERO. I did say so,
- When first I rais'd the tempest. Say, my spirit,
- How fares the King and 's followers?
- ARIEL. Confin'd together
- In the same fashion as you gave in charge;
- Just as you left them; all prisoners, sir,
- In the line-grove which weather-fends your cell;
- They cannot budge till your release. The King,
- His brother, and yours, abide all three distracted,
- And the remainder mourning over them,
- Brim full of sorrow and dismay; but chiefly
- Him you term'd, sir, 'the good old lord, Gonzalo';
- His tears run down his beard, like winter's drops
- From eaves of reeds. Your charm so strongly works 'em
- That if you now beheld them your affections
- Would become tender.
- PROSPERO. Dost thou think so, spirit?
- ARIEL. Mine would, sir, were I human.
- PROSPERO. And mine shall.
- Hast thou, which art but air, a touch, a feeling
- Of their afflictions, and shall not myself,
- One of their kind, that relish all as sharply,
- Passion as they, be kindlier mov'd than thou art?
- Though with their high wrongs I am struck to th' quick,
- Yet with my nobler reason 'gainst my fury
- Do I take part; the rarer action is
- In virtue than in vengeance; they being penitent,
- The sole drift of my purpose doth extend
- Not a frown further. Go release them, Ariel;
- My charms I'll break, their senses I'll restore,
- And they shall be themselves.
- ARIEL. I'll fetch them, sir. Exit
- PROSPERO. Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes, and
- groves;
- And ye that on the sands with printless foot
- Do chase the ebbing Neptune, and do fly him
- When he comes back; you demi-puppets that
- By moonshine do the green sour ringlets make,
- Whereof the ewe not bites; and you whose pastime
- Is to make midnight mushrooms, that rejoice
- To hear the solemn curfew; by whose aid-
- Weak masters though ye be-I have be-dimm'd
- The noontide sun, call'd forth the mutinous winds,
- And 'twixt the green sea and the azur'd vault
- Set roaring war. To the dread rattling thunder
- Have I given fire, and rifted Jove's stout oak
- With his own bolt; the strong-bas'd promontory
- Have I made shake, and by the spurs pluck'd up
- The pine and cedar. Graves at my command
- Have wak'd their sleepers, op'd, and let 'em forth,
- By my so potent art. But this rough magic
- I here abjure; and, when I have requir'd
- Some heavenly music-which even now I do-
- To work mine end upon their senses that
- This airy charm is for, I'll break my staff,
- Bury it certain fathoms in the earth,
- And deeper than did ever plummet sound
- I'll drown my book. [Solem music]
-
- Here enters ARIEL before; then ALONSO, with
- frantic gesture, attended by GONZALO; SEBASTIAN
- and ANTONIO in like manner, attended by ADRIAN
- and FRANCISCO. They all enter the circle which
- PROSPERO had made, and there stand charm'd; which
- PROSPERO observing, speaks
-
- A solemn air, and the best comforter
- To an unsettled fancy, cure thy brains,
- Now useless, boil'd within thy skull! There stand,
- For you are spell-stopp'd.
- Holy Gonzalo, honourable man,
- Mine eyes, ev'n sociable to the show of thine,
- Fall fellowly drops. The charm dissolves apace,
- And as the morning steals upon the night,
- Melting the darkness, so their rising senses
- Begin to chase the ignorant fumes that mantle
- Their clearer reason. O good Gonzalo,
- My true preserver, and a loyal sir
- To him thou follow'st! I will pay thy graces
- Home both in word and deed. Most cruelly
- Didst thou, Alonso, use me and my daughter;
- Thy brother was a furtherer in the act.
- Thou art pinch'd for't now, Sebastian. Flesh and blood,
- You, brother mine, that entertain'd ambition,
- Expell'd remorse and nature, who, with Sebastian-
- Whose inward pinches therefore are most strong-
- Would here have kill'd your king, I do forgive thee,
- Unnatural though thou art. Their understanding
- Begins to swell, and the approaching tide
- Will shortly fill the reasonable shore
- That now lies foul and muddy. Not one of them
- That yet looks on me, or would know me. Ariel,
- Fetch me the hat and rapier in my cell; Exit ARIEL
- I will discase me, and myself present
- As I was sometime Milan. Quickly, spirit
- Thou shalt ere long be free.
-
- ARIEL, on returning, sings and helps to attire him
-
- Where the bee sucks, there suck I;
- In a cowslip's bell I lie;
- There I couch when owls do cry.
- On the bat's back I do fly
- After summer merrily.
- Merrily, merrily shall I live now
- Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.
-
- PROSPERO. Why, that's my dainty Ariel! I shall miss thee;
- But yet thou shalt have freedom. So, so, so.
- To the King's ship, invisible as thou art;
- There shalt thou find the mariners asleep
- Under the hatches; the master and the boatswain
- Being awake, enforce them to this place;
- And presently, I prithee.
- ARIEL. I drink the air before me, and return
- Or ere your pulse twice beat. Exit
- GONZALO. All torment, trouble, wonder and amazement,
- Inhabits here. Some heavenly power guide us
- Out of this fearful country!
- PROSPERO. Behold, Sir King,
- The wronged Duke of Milan, Prospero.
- For more assurance that a living prince
- Does now speak to thee, I embrace thy body;
- And to thee and thy company I bid
- A hearty welcome.
- ALONSO. Whe'er thou be'st he or no,
- Or some enchanted trifle to abuse me,
- As late I have been, I not know. Thy pulse
- Beats, as of flesh and blood; and, since I saw thee,
- Th' affliction of my mind amends, with which,
- I fear, a madness held me. This must crave-
- An if this be at all-a most strange story.
- Thy dukedom I resign, and do entreat
- Thou pardon me my wrongs. But how should Prospero
- Be living and be here?
- PROSPERO. First, noble friend,
- Let me embrace thine age, whose honour cannot
- Be measur'd or confin'd.
- GONZALO. Whether this be
- Or be not, I'll not swear.
- PROSPERO. You do yet taste
- Some subtleties o' th' isle, that will not let you
- Believe things certain. Welcome, my friends all!
- [Aside to SEBASTIAN and ANTONIO] But you, my brace of
- lords, were I so minded,
- I here could pluck his Highness' frown upon you,
- And justify you traitors; at this time
- I will tell no tales.
- SEBASTIAN. [Aside] The devil speaks in him.
- PROSPERO. No.
- For you, most wicked sir, whom to call brother
- Would even infect my mouth, I do forgive
- Thy rankest fault-all of them; and require
- My dukedom of thee, which perforce I know
- Thou must restore.
- ALONSO. If thou beest Prospero,
- Give us particulars of thy preservation;
- How thou hast met us here, whom three hours since
- Were wreck'd upon this shore; where I have lost-
- How sharp the point of this remembrance is!-
- My dear son Ferdinand.
- PROSPERO. I am woe for't, sir.
- ALONSO. Irreparable is the loss; and patience
- Says it is past her cure.
- PROSPERO. I rather think
- You have not sought her help, of whose soft grace
- For the like loss I have her sovereign aid,
- And rest myself content.
- ALONSO. You the like loss!
- PROSPERO. As great to me as late; and, supportable
- To make the dear loss, have I means much weaker
- Than you may call to comfort you, for I
- Have lost my daughter.
- ALONSO. A daughter!
- O heavens, that they were living both in Naples,
- The King and Queen there! That they were, I wish
- Myself were mudded in that oozy bed
- Where my son lies. When did you lose your daughter?
- PROSPERO. In this last tempest. I perceive these lords
- At this encounter do so much admire
- That they devour their reason, and scarce think
- Their eyes do offices of truth, their words
- Are natural breath; but, howsoe'er you have
- Been justled from your senses, know for certain
- That I am Prospero, and that very duke
- Which was thrust forth of Milan; who most strangely
- Upon this shore, where you were wrecked, was landed
- To be the lord on't. No more yet of this;
- For 'tis a chronicle of day by day,
- Not a relation for a breakfast, nor
- Befitting this first meeting. Welcome, sir;
- This cell's my court; here have I few attendants,
- And subjects none abroad; pray you, look in.
- My dukedom since you have given me again,
- I will requite you with as good a thing;
- At least bring forth a wonder, to content ye
- As much as me my dukedom.
-
- Here PROSPERO discovers FERDINAND and MIRANDA,
- playing at chess
-
- MIRANDA. Sweet lord, you play me false.
- FERDINAND. No, my dearest love,
- I would not for the world.
- MIRANDA. Yes, for a score of kingdoms you should wrangle
- And I would call it fair play.
- ALONSO. If this prove
- A vision of the island, one dear son
- Shall I twice lose.
- SEBASTIAN. A most high miracle!
- FERDINAND. Though the seas threaten, they are merciful;
- I have curs'd them without cause. [Kneels]
- ALONSO. Now all the blessings
- Of a glad father compass thee about!
- Arise, and say how thou cam'st here.
- MIRANDA. O, wonder!
- How many goodly creatures are there here!
- How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world
- That has such people in't!
- PROSPERO. 'Tis new to thee.
- ALONSO. What is this maid with whom thou wast at play?
- Your eld'st acquaintance cannot be three hours;
- Is she the goddess that hath sever'd us,
- And brought us thus together?
- FERDINAND. Sir, she is mortal;
- But by immortal Providence she's mine.
- I chose her when I could not ask my father
- For his advice, nor thought I had one. She
- Is daughter to this famous Duke of Milan,
- Of whom so often I have heard renown
- But never saw before; of whom I have
- Receiv'd a second life; and second father
- This lady makes him to me.
- ALONSO. I am hers.
- But, O, how oddly will it sound that I
- Must ask my child forgiveness!
- PROSPERO. There, sir, stop;
- Let us not burden our remembrances with
- A heaviness that's gone.
- GONZALO. I have inly wept,
- Or should have spoke ere this. Look down, you gods,
- And on this couple drop a blessed crown;
- For it is you that have chalk'd forth the way
- Which brought us hither.
- ALONSO. I say, Amen, Gonzalo!
- GONZALO. Was Milan thrust from Milan, that his issue
- Should become Kings of Naples? O, rejoice
- Beyond a common joy, and set it down
- With gold on lasting pillars: in one voyage
- Did Claribel her husband find at Tunis;
- And Ferdinand, her brother, found a wife
- Where he himself was lost; Prospero his dukedom
- In a poor isle; and all of us ourselves
- When no man was his own.
- ALONSO. [To FERDINAND and MIRANDA] Give me your
- hands.
- Let grief and sorrow still embrace his heart
- That doth not wish you joy.
- GONZALO. Be it so. Amen!
-
- Re-enter ARIEL, with the MASTER and BOATSWAIN
- amazedly following
-
- O look, sir; look, sir! Here is more of us!
- I prophesied, if a gallows were on land,
- This fellow could not drown. Now, blasphemy,
- That swear'st grace o'erboard, not an oath on shore?
- Hast thou no mouth by land? What is the news?
- BOATSWAIN. The best news is that we have safely found
- Our King and company; the next, our ship-
- Which but three glasses since we gave out split-
- Is tight and yare, and bravely rigg'd, as when
- We first put out to sea.
- ARIEL. [Aside to PROSPERO] Sir, all this service
- Have I done since I went.
- PROSPERO. [Aside to ARIEL] My tricksy spirit!
- ALONSO. These are not natural events; they strengthen
- From strange to stranger. Say, how came you hither?
- BOATSWAIN. If I did think, sir, I were well awake,
- I'd strive to tell you. We were dead of sleep,
- And-how, we know not-all clapp'd under hatches;
- Where, but even now, with strange and several noises
- Of roaring, shrieking, howling, jingling chains,
- And moe diversity of sounds, all horrible,
- We were awak'd; straightway at liberty;
- Where we, in all her trim, freshly beheld
- Our royal, good, and gallant ship; our master
- Cap'ring to eye her. On a trice, so please you,
- Even in a dream, were we divided from them,
- And were brought moping hither.
- ARIEL. [Aside to PROSPERO] Was't well done?
- PROSPERO. [Aside to ARIEL] Bravely, my diligence. Thou
- shalt be free.
- ALONSO. This is as strange a maze as e'er men trod;
- And there is in this business more than nature
- Was ever conduct of. Some oracle
- Must rectify our knowledge.
- PROSPERO. Sir, my liege,
- Do not infest your mind with beating on
- The strangeness of this business; at pick'd leisure,
- Which shall be shortly, single I'll resolve you,
- Which to you shall seem probable, of every
- These happen'd accidents; till when, be cheerful
- And think of each thing well. [Aside to ARIEL] Come
- hither, spirit;
- Set Caliban and his companions free;
- Untie the spell. [Exit ARIEL] How fares my gracious sir?
- There are yet missing of your company
- Some few odd lads that you remember not.
-
- Re-enter ARIEL, driving in CALIBAN, STEPHANO, and
-
- TRINCULO, in their stolen apparel
- STEPHANO. Every man shift for all the rest, and let no man
- take care for himself; for all is but fortune. Coragio,
- bully-monster, coragio!
- TRINCULO. If these be true spies which I wear in my head,
- here's a goodly sight.
- CALIBAN. O Setebos, these be brave spirits indeed!
- How fine my master is! I am afraid
- He will chastise me.
- SEBASTIAN. Ha, ha!
- What things are these, my lord Antonio?
- Will money buy'em?
- ANTONIO. Very like; one of them
- Is a plain fish, and no doubt marketable.
- PROSPERO. Mark but the badges of these men, my lords,
- Then say if they be true. This mis-shapen knave-
- His mother was a witch, and one so strong
- That could control the moon, make flows and ebbs,
- And deal in her command without her power.
- These three have robb'd me; and this demi-devil-
- For he's a bastard one-had plotted with them
- To take my life. Two of these fellows you
- Must know and own; this thing of darkness I
- Acknowledge mine.
- CALIBAN. I shall be pinch'd to death.
- ALONSO. Is not this Stephano, my drunken butler?
- SEBASTIAN. He is drunk now; where had he wine?
- ALONSO. And Trinculo is reeling ripe; where should they
- Find this grand liquor that hath gilded 'em?
- How cam'st thou in this pickle?
- TRINCULO. I have been in such a pickle since I saw you
- last that, I fear me, will never out of my bones. I
- shall not fear fly-blowing.
- SEBASTIAN. Why, how now, Stephano!
- STEPHANO. O, touch me not; I am not Stephano, but a
- cramp.
- PROSPERO. You'd be king o' the isle, sirrah?
- STEPHANO. I should have been a sore one, then.
- ALONSO. [Pointing to CALIBAN] This is as strange a thing
- as e'er I look'd on.
- PROSPERO. He is as disproportioned in his manners
- As in his shape. Go, sirrah, to my cell;
- Take with you your companions; as you look
- To have my pardon, trim it handsomely.
- CALIBAN. Ay, that I will; and I'll be wise hereafter,
- And seek for grace. What a thrice-double ass
- Was I to take this drunkard for a god,
- And worship this dull fool!
- PROSPERO. Go to; away!
- ALONSO. Hence, and bestow your luggage where you found it.
- SEBASTIAN. Or stole it, rather.
- Exeunt CALIBAN, STEPHANO, and TRINCULO
- PROSPERO. Sir, I invite your Highness and your train
- To my poor cell, where you shall take your rest
- For this one night; which, part of it, I'll waste
- With such discourse as, I not doubt, shall make it
- Go quick away-the story of my life,
- And the particular accidents gone by
- Since I came to this isle. And in the morn
- I'll bring you to your ship, and so to Naples,
- Where I have hope to see the nuptial
- Of these our dear-belov'd solemnized,
- And thence retire me to my Milan, where
- Every third thought shall be my grave.
- ALONSO. I long
- To hear the story of your life, which must
- Take the ear strangely.
- PROSPERO. I'll deliver all;
- And promise you calm seas, auspicious gales,
- And sail so expeditious that shall catch
- Your royal fleet far off. [Aside to ARIEL] My Ariel,
- chick,
- That is thy charge. Then to the elements
- Be free, and fare thou well!-Please you, draw near.
- Exeunt
-
-
-
-EPILOGUE
- EPILOGUE
- Spoken by PROSPERO
-
- Now my charms are all o'erthrown,
- And what strength I have's mine own,
- Which is most faint. Now 'tis true,
- I must be here confin'd by you,
- Or sent to Naples. Let me not,
- Since I have my dukedom got,
- And pardon'd the deceiver, dwell
- In this bare island by your spell;
- But release me from my bands
- With the help of your good hands.
- Gentle breath of yours my sails
- Must fill, or else my project fails,
- Which was to please. Now I want
- Spirits to enforce, art to enchant;
- And my ending is despair
- Unless I be reliev'd by prayer,
- Which pierces so that it assaults
- Mercy itself, and frees all faults.
- As you from crimes would pardon'd be,
- Let your indulgence set me free.
-
-THE END
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-
-
-1608
-
-THE LIFE OF TIMON OF ATHENS
-
-by William Shakespeare
-
-
-
-DRAMATIS PERSONAE
-
- TIMON of Athens
-
- LUCIUS
- LUCULLUS
- SEMPRONIUS
- flattering lords
-
- VENTIDIUS, one of Timon's false friends
- ALCIBIADES, an Athenian captain
- APEMANTUS, a churlish philosopher
- FLAVIUS, steward to Timon
-
- FLAMINIUS
- LUCILIUS
- SERVILIUS
- Timon's servants
-
- CAPHIS
- PHILOTUS
- TITUS
- HORTENSIUS
- servants to Timon's creditors
-
- POET
- PAINTER
- JEWELLER
- MERCHANT
- MERCER
- AN OLD ATHENIAN
- THREE STRANGERS
- A PAGE
- A FOOL
-
- PHRYNIA
- TIMANDRA
- mistresses to Alcibiades
-
- CUPID
- AMAZONS
- in the Masque
-
- Lords, Senators, Officers, Soldiers, Servants, Thieves, and
- Attendants
-
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-SCENE:
-Athens and the neighbouring woods
-
-
-ACT I. SCENE I.
-Athens. TIMON'S house
-
-Enter POET, PAINTER, JEWELLER, MERCHANT, and MERCER, at several doors
-
- POET. Good day, sir.
- PAINTER. I am glad y'are well.
- POET. I have not seen you long; how goes the world?
- PAINTER. It wears, sir, as it grows.
- POET. Ay, that's well known.
- But what particular rarity? What strange,
- Which manifold record not matches? See,
- Magic of bounty, all these spirits thy power
- Hath conjur'd to attend! I know the merchant.
- PAINTER. I know them both; th' other's a jeweller.
- MERCHANT. O, 'tis a worthy lord!
- JEWELLER. Nay, that's most fix'd.
- MERCHANT. A most incomparable man; breath'd, as it were,
- To an untirable and continuate goodness.
- He passes.
- JEWELLER. I have a jewel here-
- MERCHANT. O, pray let's see't. For the Lord Timon, sir?
- JEWELLER. If he will touch the estimate. But for that-
- POET. When we for recompense have prais'd the vile,
- It stains the glory in that happy verse
- Which aptly sings the good.
- MERCHANT. [Looking at the jewel] 'Tis a good form.
- JEWELLER. And rich. Here is a water, look ye.
- PAINTER. You are rapt, sir, in some work, some dedication
- To the great lord.
- POET. A thing slipp'd idly from me.
- Our poesy is as a gum, which oozes
- From whence 'tis nourish'd. The fire i' th' flint
- Shows not till it be struck: our gentle flame
- Provokes itself, and like the current flies
- Each bound it chafes. What have you there?
- PAINTER. A picture, sir. When comes your book forth?
- POET. Upon the heels of my presentment, sir.
- Let's see your piece.
- PAINTER. 'Tis a good piece.
- POET. So 'tis; this comes off well and excellent.
- PAINTER. Indifferent.
- POET. Admirable. How this grace
- Speaks his own standing! What a mental power
- This eye shoots forth! How big imagination
- Moves in this lip! To th' dumbness of the gesture
- One might interpret.
- PAINTER. It is a pretty mocking of the life.
- Here is a touch; is't good?
- POET. I will say of it
- It tutors nature. Artificial strife
- Lives in these touches, livelier than life.
-
- Enter certain SENATORS, and pass over
-
- PAINTER. How this lord is followed!
- POET. The senators of Athens- happy man!
- PAINTER. Look, moe!
- POET. You see this confluence, this great flood of visitors.
- I have in this rough work shap'd out a man
- Whom this beneath world doth embrace and hug
- With amplest entertainment. My free drift
- Halts not particularly, but moves itself
- In a wide sea of tax. No levell'd malice
- Infects one comma in the course I hold,
- But flies an eagle flight, bold and forth on,
- Leaving no tract behind.
- PAINTER. How shall I understand you?
- POET. I will unbolt to you.
- You see how all conditions, how all minds-
- As well of glib and slipp'ry creatures as
- Of grave and austere quality, tender down
- Their services to Lord Timon. His large fortune,
- Upon his good and gracious nature hanging,
- Subdues and properties to his love and tendance
- All sorts of hearts; yea, from the glass-fac'd flatterer
- To Apemantus, that few things loves better
- Than to abhor himself; even he drops down
- The knee before him, and returns in peace
- Most rich in Timon's nod.
- PAINTER. I saw them speak together.
- POET. Sir, I have upon a high and pleasant hill
- Feign'd Fortune to be thron'd. The base o' th' mount
- Is rank'd with all deserts, all kind of natures
- That labour on the bosom of this sphere
- To propagate their states. Amongst them all
- Whose eyes are on this sovereign lady fix'd
- One do I personate of Lord Timon's frame,
- Whom Fortune with her ivory hand wafts to her;
- Whose present grace to present slaves and servants
- Translates his rivals.
- PAINTER. 'Tis conceiv'd to scope.
- This throne, this Fortune, and this hill, methinks,
- With one man beckon'd from the rest below,
- Bowing his head against the steepy mount
- To climb his happiness, would be well express'd
- In our condition.
- POET. Nay, sir, but hear me on.
- All those which were his fellows but of late-
- Some better than his value- on the moment
- Follow his strides, his lobbies fill with tendance,
- Rain sacrificial whisperings in his ear,
- Make sacred even his stirrup, and through him
- Drink the free air.
- PAINTER. Ay, marry, what of these?
- POET. When Fortune in her shift and change of mood
- Spurns down her late beloved, all his dependants,
- Which labour'd after him to the mountain's top
- Even on their knees and hands, let him slip down,
- Not one accompanying his declining foot.
- PAINTER. 'Tis common.
- A thousand moral paintings I can show
- That shall demonstrate these quick blows of Fortune's
- More pregnantly than words. Yet you do well
- To show Lord Timon that mean eyes have seen
- The foot above the head.
-
- Trumpets sound. Enter TIMON, addressing himself
- courteously to every suitor, a MESSENGER from
- VENTIDIUS talking with him; LUCILIUS and other
- servants following
-
- TIMON. Imprison'd is he, say you?
- MESSENGER. Ay, my good lord. Five talents is his debt;
- His means most short, his creditors most strait.
- Your honourable letter he desires
- To those have shut him up; which failing,
- Periods his comfort.
- TIMON. Noble Ventidius! Well.
- I am not of that feather to shake of
- My friend when he must need me. I do know him
- A gentleman that well deserves a help,
- Which he shall have. I'll pay the debt, and free him.
- MESSENGER. Your lordship ever binds him.
- TIMON. Commend me to him; I will send his ransom;
- And being enfranchis'd, bid him come to me.
- 'Tis not enough to help the feeble up,
- But to support him after. Fare you well.
- MESSENGER. All happiness to your honour! Exit
-
- Enter an OLD ATHENIAN
-
- OLD ATHENIAN. Lord Timon, hear me speak.
- TIMON. Freely, good father.
- OLD ATHENIAN. Thou hast a servant nam'd Lucilius.
- TIMON. I have so; what of him?
- OLD ATHENIAN. Most noble Timon, call the man before thee.
- TIMON. Attends he here, or no? Lucilius!
- LUCILIUS. Here, at your lordship's service.
- OLD ATHENIAN. This fellow here, Lord Timon, this thy creature,
- By night frequents my house. I am a man
- That from my first have been inclin'd to thrift,
- And my estate deserves an heir more rais'd
- Than one which holds a trencher.
- TIMON. Well; what further?
- OLD ATHENIAN. One only daughter have I, no kin else,
- On whom I may confer what I have got.
- The maid is fair, o' th' youngest for a bride,
- And I have bred her at my dearest cost
- In qualities of the best. This man of thine
- Attempts her love; I prithee, noble lord,
- Join with me to forbid him her resort;
- Myself have spoke in vain.
- TIMON. The man is honest.
- OLD ATHENIAN. Therefore he will be, Timon.
- His honesty rewards him in itself;
- It must not bear my daughter.
- TIMON. Does she love him?
- OLD ATHENIAN. She is young and apt:
- Our own precedent passions do instruct us
- What levity's in youth.
- TIMON. Love you the maid?
- LUCILIUS. Ay, my good lord, and she accepts of it.
- OLD ATHENIAN. If in her marriage my consent be missing,
- I call the gods to witness I will choose
- Mine heir from forth the beggars of the world,
- And dispossess her all.
- TIMON. How shall she be endow'd,
- If she be mated with an equal husband?
- OLD ATHENIAN. Three talents on the present; in future, all.
- TIMON. This gentleman of mine hath serv'd me long;.
- To build his fortune I will strain a little,
- For 'tis a bond in men. Give him thy daughter:
- What you bestow, in him I'll counterpoise,
- And make him weigh with her.
- OLD ATHENIAN. Most noble lord,
- Pawn me to this your honour, she is his.
- TIMON. My hand to thee; mine honour on my promise.
- LUCILIUS. Humbly I thank your lordship. Never may
- That state or fortune fall into my keeping
- Which is not owed to you!
- Exeunt LUCILIUS and OLD ATHENIAN
- POET. [Presenting his poem] Vouchsafe my labour, and long live your
- lordship!
- TIMON. I thank you; you shall hear from me anon;
- Go not away. What have you there, my friend?
- PAINTER. A piece of painting, which I do beseech
- Your lordship to accept.
- TIMON. Painting is welcome.
- The painting is almost the natural man;
- For since dishonour traffics with man's nature,
- He is but outside; these pencill'd figures are
- Even such as they give out. I like your work,
- And you shall find I like it; wait attendance
- Till you hear further from me.
- PAINTER. The gods preserve ye!
- TIMON. Well fare you, gentleman. Give me your hand;
- We must needs dine together. Sir, your jewel
- Hath suffered under praise.
- JEWELLER. What, my lord! Dispraise?
- TIMON. A mere satiety of commendations;
- If I should pay you for't as 'tis extoll'd,
- It would unclew me quite.
- JEWELLER. My lord, 'tis rated
- As those which sell would give; but you well know
- Things of like value, differing in the owners,
- Are prized by their masters. Believe't, dear lord,
- You mend the jewel by the wearing it.
- TIMON. Well mock'd.
-
- Enter APEMANTUS
-
- MERCHANT. No, my good lord; he speaks the common tongue,
- Which all men speak with him.
- TIMON. Look who comes here; will you be chid?
- JEWELLER. We'll bear, with your lordship.
- MERCHANT. He'll spare none.
- TIMON. Good morrow to thee, gentle Apemantus!
- APEMANTUS. Till I be gentle, stay thou for thy good morrow;
- When thou art Timon's dog, and these knaves honest.
- TIMON. Why dost thou call them knaves? Thou know'st them not.
- APEMANTUS. Are they not Athenians?
- TIMON. Yes.
- APEMANTUS. Then I repent not.
- JEWELLER. You know me, Apemantus?
- APEMANTUS. Thou know'st I do; I call'd thee by thy name.
- TIMON. Thou art proud, Apemantus.
- APEMANTUS. Of nothing so much as that I am not like Timon.
- TIMON. Whither art going?
- APEMANTUS. To knock out an honest Athenian's brains.
- TIMON. That's a deed thou't die for.
- APEMANTUS. Right, if doing nothing be death by th' law.
- TIMON. How lik'st thou this picture, Apemantus?
- APEMANTUS. The best, for the innocence.
- TIMON. Wrought he not well that painted it?
- APEMANTUS. He wrought better that made the painter; and yet he's
- but a filthy piece of work.
- PAINTER. Y'are a dog.
- APEMANTUS. Thy mother's of my generation; what's she, if I be a dog?
- TIMON. Wilt dine with me, Apemantus?
- APEMANTUS. No; I eat not lords.
- TIMON. An thou shouldst, thou'dst anger ladies.
- APEMANTUS. O, they eat lords; so they come by great bellies.
- TIMON. That's a lascivious apprehension.
- APEMANTUS. So thou apprehend'st it take it for thy labour.
- TIMON. How dost thou like this jewel, Apemantus?
- APEMANTUS. Not so well as plain dealing, which will not cost a man
- a doit.
- TIMON. What dost thou think 'tis worth?
- APEMANTUS. Not worth my thinking. How now, poet!
- POET. How now, philosopher!
- APEMANTUS. Thou liest.
- POET. Art not one?
- APEMANTUS. Yes.
- POET. Then I lie not.
- APEMANTUS. Art not a poet?
- POET. Yes.
- APEMANTUS. Then thou liest. Look in thy last work, where thou hast
- feign'd him a worthy fellow.
- POET. That's not feign'd- he is so.
- APEMANTUS. Yes, he is worthy of thee, and to pay thee for thy
- labour. He that loves to be flattered is worthy o' th' flatterer.
- Heavens, that I were a lord!
- TIMON. What wouldst do then, Apemantus?
- APEMANTUS. E'en as Apemantus does now: hate a lord with my heart.
- TIMON. What, thyself?
- APEMANTUS. Ay.
- TIMON. Wherefore?
- APEMANTUS. That I had no angry wit to be a lord.- Art not thou a
- merchant?
- MERCHANT. Ay, Apemantus.
- APEMANTUS. Traffic confound thee, if the gods will not!
- MERCHANT. If traffic do it, the gods do it.
- APEMANTUS. Traffic's thy god, and thy god confound thee!
-
- Trumpet sounds. Enter a MESSENGER
-
- TIMON. What trumpet's that?
- MESSENGER. 'Tis Alcibiades, and some twenty horse,
- All of companionship.
- TIMON. Pray entertain them; give them guide to us.
- Exeunt some attendants
- You must needs dine with me. Go not you hence
- Till I have thank'd you. When dinner's done
- Show me this piece. I am joyful of your sights.
-
- Enter ALCIBIADES, with the rest
-
- Most welcome, sir! [They salute]
- APEMANTUS. So, so, there!
- Aches contract and starve your supple joints!
- That there should be small love amongst these sweet knaves,
- And all this courtesy! The strain of man's bred out
- Into baboon and monkey.
- ALCIBIADES. Sir, you have sav'd my longing, and I feed
- Most hungerly on your sight.
- TIMON. Right welcome, sir!
- Ere we depart we'll share a bounteous time
- In different pleasures. Pray you, let us in.
- Exeunt all but APEMANTUS
-
- Enter two LORDS
-
- FIRST LORD. What time o' day is't, Apemantus?
- APEMANTUS. Time to be honest.
- FIRST LORD. That time serves still.
- APEMANTUS. The more accursed thou that still omit'st it.
- SECOND LORD. Thou art going to Lord Timon's feast.
- APEMANTUS. Ay; to see meat fill knaves and wine heat fools.
- SECOND LORD. Fare thee well, fare thee well.
- APEMANTUS. Thou art a fool to bid me farewell twice.
- SECOND LORD. Why, Apemantus?
- APEMANTUS. Shouldst have kept one to thyself, for I mean to give
- thee none.
- FIRST LORD. Hang thyself.
- APEMANTUS. No, I will do nothing at thy bidding; make thy requests
- to thy friend.
- SECOND LORD. Away, unpeaceable dog, or I'll spurn thee hence.
- APEMANTUS. I will fly, like a dog, the heels o' th' ass. Exit
- FIRST LORD. He's opposite to humanity. Come, shall we in
- And taste Lord Timon's bounty? He outgoes
- The very heart of kindness.
- SECOND LORD. He pours it out: Plutus, the god of gold,
- Is but his steward; no meed but he repays
- Sevenfold above itself; no gift to him
- But breeds the giver a return exceeding
- All use of quittance.
- FIRST LORD. The noblest mind he carries
- That ever govern'd man.
- SECOND LORD. Long may he live in fortunes! shall we in?
- FIRST LORD. I'll keep you company. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-A room of state in TIMON'S house
-
-Hautboys playing loud music. A great banquet serv'd in;
-FLAVIUS and others attending; and then enter LORD TIMON, the states,
-the ATHENIAN LORDS, VENTIDIUS, which TIMON redeem'd from prison.
-Then comes, dropping after all, APEMANTUS, discontentedly, like himself
-
- VENTIDIUS. Most honoured Timon,
- It hath pleas'd the gods to remember my father's age,
- And call him to long peace.
- He is gone happy, and has left me rich.
- Then, as in grateful virtue I am bound
- To your free heart, I do return those talents,
- Doubled with thanks and service, from whose help
- I deriv'd liberty.
- TIMON. O, by no means,
- Honest Ventidius! You mistake my love;
- I gave it freely ever; and there's none
- Can truly say he gives, if he receives.
- If our betters play at that game, we must not dare
- To imitate them: faults that are rich are fair.
- VENTIDIUS. A noble spirit!
- TIMON. Nay, my lords, ceremony was but devis'd at first
- To set a gloss on faint deeds, hollow welcomes,
- Recanting goodness, sorry ere 'tis shown;
- But where there is true friendship there needs none.
- Pray, sit; more welcome are ye to my fortunes
- Than my fortunes to me. [They sit]
- FIRST LORD. My lord, we always have confess'd it.
- APEMANTUS. Ho, ho, confess'd it! Hang'd it, have you not?
- TIMON. O, Apemantus, you are welcome.
- APEMANTUS. No;
- You shall not make me welcome.
- I come to have thee thrust me out of doors.
- TIMON. Fie, th'art a churl; ye have got a humour there
- Does not become a man; 'tis much to blame.
- They say, my lords, Ira furor brevis est; but yond man is ever
- angry. Go, let him have a table by himself; for he does neither
- affect company nor is he fit for't indeed.
- APEMANTUS. Let me stay at thine apperil, Timon.
- I come to observe; I give thee warning on't.
- TIMON. I take no heed of thee. Th'art an Athenian, therefore
- welcome. I myself would have no power; prithee let my meat make
- thee silent.
- APEMANTUS. I scorn thy meat; 't'would choke me, for I should ne'er
- flatter thee. O you gods, what a number of men eats Timon, and he
- sees 'em not! It grieves me to see so many dip their meat in one
- man's blood; and all the madness is, he cheers them up too.
- I wonder men dare trust themselves with men.
- Methinks they should invite them without knives:
- Good for their meat and safer for their lives.
- There's much example for't; the fellow that sits next him now,
- parts bread with him, pledges the breath of him in a divided
- draught, is the readiest man to kill him. 'T has been proved. If
- I were a huge man I should fear to drink at meals.
- Lest they should spy my windpipe's dangerous notes:
- Great men should drink with harness on their throats.
- TIMON. My lord, in heart! and let the health go round.
- SECOND LORD. Let it flow this way, my good lord.
- APEMANTUS. Flow this way! A brave fellow! He keeps his tides well.
- Those healths will make thee and thy state look ill, Timon.
- Here's that which is too weak to be a sinner, honest water, which
- ne'er left man i' th' mire.
- This and my food are equals; there's no odds.'
- Feasts are too proud to give thanks to the gods.
-
- APEMANTUS' Grace
-
- Immortal gods, I crave no pelf;
- I pray for no man but myself.
- Grant I may never prove so fond
- To trust man on his oath or bond,
- Or a harlot for her weeping,
- Or a dog that seems a-sleeping,
- Or a keeper with my freedom,
- Or my friends, if I should need 'em.
- Amen. So fall to't.
- Rich men sin, and I eat root. [Eats and drinks]
-
- Much good dich thy good heart, Apemantus!
- TIMON. Captain Alcibiades, your heart's in the field now.
- ALCIBIADES. My heart is ever at your service, my lord.
- TIMON. You had rather be at a breakfast of enemies than dinner of
- friends.
- ALCIBIADES. So they were bleeding new, my lord, there's no meat
- like 'em; I could wish my best friend at such a feast.
- APEMANTUS. Would all those flatterers were thine enemies then, that
- then thou mightst kill 'em, and bid me to 'em.
- FIRST LORD. Might we but have that happiness, my lord, that you
- would once use our hearts, whereby we might express some part of
- our zeals, we should think ourselves for ever perfect.
- TIMON. O, no doubt, my good friends, but the gods themselves have
- provided that I shall have much help from you. How had you been
- my friends else? Why have you that charitable title from
- thousands, did not you chiefly belong to my heart? I have told
- more of you to myself than you can with modesty speak in your own
- behalf; and thus far I confirm you. O you gods, think I, what
- need we have any friends if we should ne'er have need of 'em?
- They were the most needless creatures living, should we ne'er
- have use for 'em; and would most resemble sweet instruments hung
- up in cases, that keep their sounds to themselves. Why, I have
- often wish'd myself poorer, that I might come nearer to you. We
- are born to do benefits; and what better or properer can we call
- our own than the riches of our friends? O, what a precious
- comfort 'tis to have so many like brothers commanding one
- another's fortunes! O, joy's e'en made away ere't can be born!
- Mine eyes cannot hold out water, methinks. To forget their
- faults, I drink to you.
- APEMANTUS. Thou weep'st to make them drink, Timon.
- SECOND LORD. Joy had the like conception in our eyes,
- And at that instant like a babe sprung up.
- APEMANTUS. Ho, ho! I laugh to think that babe a bastard.
- THIRD LORD. I promise you, my lord, you mov'd me much.
- APEMANTUS. Much! [Sound tucket]
- TIMON. What means that trump?
-
- Enter a SERVANT
-
- How now?
- SERVANT. Please you, my lord, there are certain ladies most
- desirous of admittance.
- TIMON. Ladies! What are their wills?
- SERVANT. There comes with them a forerunner, my lord, which bears
- that office to signify their pleasures.
- TIMON. I pray let them be admitted.
-
- Enter CUPID
- CUPID. Hail to thee, worthy Timon, and to all
- That of his bounties taste! The five best Senses
- Acknowledge thee their patron, and come freely
- To gratulate thy plenteous bosom. Th' Ear,
- Taste, Touch, Smell, pleas'd from thy table rise;
- They only now come but to feast thine eyes.
- TIMON. They're welcome all; let 'em have kind admittance.
- Music, make their welcome. Exit CUPID
- FIRST LORD. You see, my lord, how ample y'are belov'd.
-
- Music. Re-enter CUPID, witb a Masque of LADIES as Amazons,
- with lutes in their hands, dancing and playing
-
- APEMANTUS. Hoy-day, what a sweep of vanity comes this way!
- They dance? They are mad women.
- Like madness is the glory of this life,
- As this pomp shows to a little oil and root.
- We make ourselves fools to disport ourselves,
- And spend our flatteries to drink those men
- Upon whose age we void it up again
- With poisonous spite and envy.
- Who lives that's not depraved or depraves?
- Who dies that bears not one spurn to their graves
- Of their friends' gift?
- I should fear those that dance before me now
- Would one day stamp upon me. 'T has been done:
- Men shut their doors against a setting sun.
-
- The LORDS rise from table, with much adoring of
- TIMON; and to show their loves, each single out an
- Amazon, and all dance, men witb women, a lofty
- strain or two to the hautboys, and cease
-
- TIMON. You have done our pleasures much grace, fair ladies,
- Set a fair fashion on our entertainment,
- Which was not half so beautiful and kind;
- You have added worth unto't and lustre,
- And entertain'd me with mine own device;
- I am to thank you for't.
- FIRST LADY. My lord, you take us even at the best.
- APEMANTUS. Faith, for the worst is filthy, and would not hold
- taking, I doubt me.
- TIMON. Ladies, there is an idle banquet attends you;
- Please you to dispose yourselves.
- ALL LADIES. Most thankfully, my lord.
- Exeunt CUPID and LADIES
- TIMON. Flavius!
- FLAVIUS. My lord?
- TIMON. The little casket bring me hither.
- FLAVIUS. Yes, my lord. [Aside] More jewels yet!
- There is no crossing him in's humour,
- Else I should tell him- well i' faith, I should-
- When all's spent, he'd be cross'd then, an he could.
- 'Tis pity bounty had not eyes behind,
- That man might ne'er be wretched for his mind. Exit
- FIRST LORD. Where be our men?
- SERVANT. Here, my lord, in readiness.
- SECOND LORD. Our horses!
-
- Re-enter FLAVIUS, with the casket
-
- TIMON. O my friends,
- I have one word to say to you. Look you, my good lord,
- I must entreat you honour me so much
- As to advance this jewel; accept it and wear it,
- Kind my lord.
- FIRST LORD. I am so far already in your gifts-
- ALL. So are we all.
-
- Enter a SERVANT
-
- SERVANT. My lord, there are certain nobles of the Senate newly
- alighted and come to visit you.
- TIMON. They are fairly welcome. Exit SERVANT
- FLAVIUS. I beseech your honour, vouchsafe me a word; it does
- concern you near.
- TIMON. Near! Why then, another time I'll hear thee. I prithee let's
- be provided to show them entertainment.
- FLAVIUS. [Aside] I scarce know how.
-
- Enter another SERVANT
-
- SECOND SERVANT. May it please vour honour, Lord Lucius, out of his
- free love, hath presented to you four milk-white horses, trapp'd
- in silver.
- TIMON. I shall accept them fairly. Let the presents
- Be worthily entertain'd. Exit SERVANT
-
- Enter a third SERVANT
-
- How now! What news?
- THIRD SERVANT. Please you, my lord, that honourable gentleman, Lord
- Lucullus, entreats your company to-morrow to hunt with him and
- has sent your honour two brace of greyhounds.
- TIMON. I'll hunt with him; and let them be receiv'd,
- Not without fair reward. Exit SERVANT
- FLAVIUS. [Aside] What will this come to?
- He commands us to provide and give great gifts,
- And all out of an empty coffer;
- Nor will he know his purse, or yield me this,
- To show him what a beggar his heart is,
- Being of no power to make his wishes good.
- His promises fly so beyond his state
- That what he speaks is all in debt; he owes
- For ev'ry word. He is so kind that he now
- Pays interest for't; his land's put to their books.
- Well, would I were gently put out of office
- Before I were forc'd out!
- Happier is he that has no friend to feed
- Than such that do e'en enemies exceed.
- I bleed inwardly for my lord. Exit
- TIMON. You do yourselves much wrong;
- You bate too much of your own merits.
- Here, my lord, a trifle of our love.
- SECOND LORD. With more than common thanks I will receive it.
- THIRD LORD. O, he's the very soul of bounty!
- TIMON. And now I remember, my lord, you gave good words the other
- day of a bay courser I rode on. 'Tis yours because you lik'd it.
- THIRD LORD. O, I beseech you pardon me, my lord, in that.
- TIMON. You may take my word, my lord: I know no man
- Can justly praise but what he does affect.
- I weigh my friend's affection with mine own.
- I'll tell you true; I'll call to you.
- ALL LORDS. O, none so welcome!
- TIMON. I take all and your several visitations
- So kind to heart 'tis not enough to give;
- Methinks I could deal kingdoms to my friends
- And ne'er be weary. Alcibiades,
- Thou art a soldier, therefore seldom rich.
- It comes in charity to thee; for all thy living
- Is 'mongst the dead, and all the lands thou hast
- Lie in a pitch'd field.
- ALCIBIADES. Ay, defil'd land, my lord.
- FIRST LORD. We are so virtuously bound-
- TIMON. And so am I to you.
- SECOND LORD. So infinitely endear'd-
- TIMON. All to you. Lights, more lights!
- FIRST LORD. The best of happiness, honour, and fortunes, keep with
- you, Lord Timon!
- TIMON. Ready for his friends.
- Exeunt all but APEMANTUS and TIMON
- APEMANTUS. What a coil's here!
- Serving of becks and jutting-out of bums!
- I doubt whether their legs be worth the sums
- That are given for 'em. Friendship's full of dregs:
- Methinks false hearts should never have sound legs.
- Thus honest fools lay out their wealth on curtsies.
- TIMON. Now, Apemantus, if thou wert not sullen
- I would be good to thee.
- APEMANTUS. No, I'll nothing; for if I should be brib'd too, there
- would be none left to rail upon thee, and then thou wouldst sin
- the faster. Thou giv'st so long, Timon, I fear me thou wilt give
- away thyself in paper shortly. What needs these feasts, pomps,
- and vain-glories?
- TIMON. Nay, an you begin to rail on society once, I am sworn not to
- give regard to you. Farewell; and come with better music.
- Exit
- APEMANTUS. So. Thou wilt not hear me now: thou shalt not then. I'll
- lock thy heaven from thee.
- O that men's ears should be
- To counsel deaf, but not to flattery! Exit
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT II. SCENE I.
-A SENATOR'S house
-
-Enter A SENATOR, with papers in his hand
-
- SENATOR. And late, five thousand. To Varro and to Isidore
- He owes nine thousand; besides my former sum,
- Which makes it five and twenty. Still in motion
- Of raging waste? It cannot hold; it will not.
- If I want gold, steal but a beggar's dog
- And give it Timon, why, the dog coins gold.
- If I would sell my horse and buy twenty moe
- Better than he, why, give my horse to Timon,
- Ask nothing, give it him, it foals me straight,
- And able horses. No porter at his gate,
- But rather one that smiles and still invites
- All that pass by. It cannot hold; no reason
- Can sound his state in safety. Caphis, ho!
- Caphis, I say!
-
- Enter CAPHIS
-
- CAPHIS. Here, sir; what is your pleasure?
- SENATOR. Get on your cloak and haste you to Lord Timon;
- Importune him for my moneys; be not ceas'd
- With slight denial, nor then silenc'd when
- 'Commend me to your master' and the cap
- Plays in the right hand, thus; but tell him
- My uses cry to me, I must serve my turn
- Out of mine own; his days and times are past,
- And my reliances on his fracted dates
- Have smit my credit. I love and honour him,
- But must not break my back to heal his finger.
- Immediate are my needs, and my relief
- Must not be toss'd and turn'd to me in words,
- But find supply immediate. Get you gone;
- Put on a most importunate aspect,
- A visage of demand; for I do fear,
- When every feather sticks in his own wing,
- Lord Timon will be left a naked gull,
- Which flashes now a phoenix. Get you gone.
- CAPHIS. I go, sir.
- SENATOR. Take the bonds along with you,
- And have the dates in compt.
- CAPHIS. I will, sir.
- SENATOR. Go. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-Before TIMON'S house
-
-Enter FLAVIUS, TIMON'S Steward, with many bills in his hand
-
- FLAVIUS. No care, no stop! So senseless of expense
- That he will neither know how to maintain it
- Nor cease his flow of riot; takes no account
- How things go from him, nor resumes no care
- Of what is to continue. Never mind
- Was to be so unwise to be so kind.
- What shall be done? He will not hear till feel.
- I must be round with him. Now he comes from hunting.
- Fie, fie, fie, fie!
-
- Enter CAPHIS, and the SERVANTS Of ISIDORE and VARRO
-
- CAPHIS. Good even, Varro. What, you come for money?
- VARRO'S SERVANT. Is't not your business too?
- CAPHIS. It is. And yours too, Isidore?
- ISIDORE'S SERVANT. It is so.
- CAPHIS. Would we were all discharg'd!
- VARRO'S SERVANT. I fear it.
- CAPHIS. Here comes the lord.
-
- Enter TIMON and his train, with ALCIBIADES
-
- TIMON. So soon as dinner's done we'll forth again,
- My Alcibiades.- With me? What is your will?
- CAPHIS. My lord, here is a note of certain dues.
- TIMON. Dues! Whence are you?
- CAPHIS. Of Athens here, my lord.
- TIMON. Go to my steward.
- CAPHIS. Please it your lordship, he hath put me off
- To the succession of new days this month.
- My master is awak'd by great occasion
- To call upon his own, and humbly prays you
- That with your other noble parts you'll suit
- In giving him his right.
- TIMON. Mine honest friend,
- I prithee but repair to me next morning.
- CAPHIS. Nay, good my lord-
- TIMON. Contain thyself, good friend.
- VARRO'S SERVANT. One Varro's servant, my good lord-
- ISIDORE'S SERVANT. From Isidore: he humbly prays your speedy
- payment-
- CAPHIS. If you did know, my lord, my master's wants-
- VARRO'S SERVANT. 'Twas due on forfeiture, my lord, six weeks and
- past.
- ISIDORE'S SERVANT. Your steward puts me off, my lord; and
- I am sent expressly to your lordship.
- TIMON. Give me breath.
- I do beseech you, good my lords, keep on;
- I'll wait upon you instantly.
- Exeunt ALCIBIADES and LORDS
- [To FLAVIUS] Come hither. Pray you,
- How goes the world that I am thus encount'red
- With clamorous demands of date-broke bonds
- And the detention of long-since-due debts,
- Against my honour?
- FLAVIUS. Please you, gentlemen,
- The time is unagreeable to this business.
- Your importunacy cease till after dinner,
- That I may make his lordship understand
- Wherefore you are not paid.
- TIMON. Do so, my friends.
- See them well entertain'd. Exit
- FLAVIUS. Pray draw near. Exit
-
- Enter APEMANTUS and FOOL
-
- CAPHIS. Stay, stay, here comes the fool with Apemantus.
- Let's ha' some sport with 'em.
- VARRO'S SERVANT. Hang him, he'll abuse us!
- ISIDORE'S SERVANT. A plague upon him, dog!
- VARRO'S SERVANT. How dost, fool?
- APEMANTUS. Dost dialogue with thy shadow?
- VARRO'S SERVANT. I speak not to thee.
- APEMANTUS. No, 'tis to thyself. [To the FOOL] Come away.
- ISIDORE'S SERVANT. [To VARRO'S SERVANT] There's the fool hangs on
- your back already.
- APEMANTUS. No, thou stand'st single; th'art not on him yet.
- CAPHIS. Where's the fool now?
- APEMANTUS. He last ask'd the question. Poor rogues and usurers'
- men! Bawds between gold and want!
- ALL SERVANTS. What are we, Apemantus?
- APEMANTUS. Asses.
- ALL SERVANTS. Why?
- APEMANTUS. That you ask me what you are, and do not know
- yourselves. Speak to 'em, fool.
- FOOL. How do you, gentlemen?
- ALL SERVANTS. Gramercies, good fool. How does your mistress?
- FOOL. She's e'en setting on water to scald such chickens as you
- are. Would we could see you at Corinth!
- APEMANTUS. Good! gramercy.
-
- Enter PAGE
-
- FOOL. Look you, here comes my mistress' page.
- PAGE. [To the FOOL] Why, how now, Captain? What do you in this wise
- company? How dost thou, Apemantus?
- APEMANTUS. Would I had a rod in my mouth, that I might answer thee
- profitably!
- PAGE. Prithee, Apemantus, read me the superscription of these
- letters; I know not which is which.
- APEMANTUS. Canst not read?
- PAGE. No.
- APEMANTUS. There will little learning die, then, that day thou art
- hang'd. This is to Lord Timon; this to Alcibiades. Go; thou wast
- born a bastard, and thou't die a bawd.
- PAGE. Thou wast whelp'd a dog, and thou shalt famish dog's death.
- Answer not: I am gone. Exit PAGE
- APEMANTUS. E'en so thou outrun'st grace.
- Fool, I will go with you to Lord Timon's.
- FOOL. Will you leave me there?
- APEMANTUS. If Timon stay at home. You three serve three usurers?
- ALL SERVANTS. Ay; would they serv'd us!
- APEMANTUS. So would I- as good a trick as ever hangman serv'd
- thief.
- FOOL. Are you three usurers' men?
- ALL SERVANTS. Ay, fool.
- FOOL. I think no usurer but has a fool to his servant. My mistress
- is one, and I am her fool. When men come to borrow of your
- masters, they approach sadly and go away merry; but they enter my
- mistress' house merrily and go away sadly. The reason of this?
- VARRO'S SERVANT. I could render one.
- APEMANTUS. Do it then, that we may account thee a whoremaster and a
- knave; which notwithstanding, thou shalt be no less esteemed.
- VARRO'S SERVANT. What is a whoremaster, fool?
- FOOL. A fool in good clothes, and something like thee. 'Tis a
- spirit. Sometime 't appears like a lord; sometime like a lawyer;
- sometime like a philosopher, with two stones moe than's
- artificial one. He is very often like a knight; and, generally,
- in all shapes that man goes up and down in from fourscore to
- thirteen, this spirit walks in.
- VARRO'S SERVANT. Thou art not altogether a fool.
- FOOL. Nor thou altogether a wise man.
- As much foolery as I have, so much wit thou lack'st.
- APEMANTUS. That answer might have become Apemantus.
- VARRO'S SERVANT. Aside, aside; here comes Lord Timon.
-
- Re-enter TIMON and FLAVIUS
-
- APEMANTUS. Come with me, fool, come.
- FOOL. I do not always follow lover, elder brother, and woman;
- sometime the philosopher.
- Exeunt APEMANTUS and FOOL
- FLAVIUS. Pray you walk near; I'll speak with you anon.
- Exeunt SERVANTS
- TIMON. You make me marvel wherefore ere this time
- Had you not fully laid my state before me,
- That I might so have rated my expense
- As I had leave of means.
- FLAVIUS. You would not hear me
- At many leisures I propos'd.
- TIMON. Go to;
- Perchance some single vantages you took
- When my indisposition put you back,
- And that unaptness made your minister
- Thus to excuse yourself.
- FLAVIUS. O my good lord,
- At many times I brought in my accounts,
- Laid them before you; you would throw them off
- And say you found them in mine honesty.
- When, for some trifling present, you have bid me
- Return so much, I have shook my head and wept;
- Yea, 'gainst th' authority of manners, pray'd you
- To hold your hand more close. I did endure
- Not seldom, nor no slight checks, when I have
- Prompted you in the ebb of your estate
- And your great flow of debts. My lov'd lord,
- Though you hear now- too late!- yet now's a time:
- The greatest of your having lacks a half
- To pay your present debts.
- TIMON. Let all my land be sold.
- FLAVIUS. 'Tis all engag'd, some forfeited and gone;
- And what remains will hardly stop the mouth
- Of present dues. The future comes apace;
- What shall defend the interim? And at length
- How goes our reck'ning?
- TIMON. To Lacedaemon did my land extend.
- FLAVIUS. O my good lord, the world is but a word;
- Were it all yours to give it in a breath,
- How quickly were it gone!
- TIMON. You tell me true.
- FLAVIUS. If you suspect my husbandry or falsehood,
- Call me before th' exactest auditors
- And set me on the proof. So the gods bless me,
- When all our offices have been oppress'd
- With riotous feeders, when our vaults have wept
- With drunken spilth of wine, when every room
- Hath blaz'd with lights and bray'd with minstrelsy,
- I have retir'd me to a wasteful cock
- And set mine eyes at flow.
- TIMON. Prithee no more.
- FLAVIUS. 'Heavens,' have I said 'the bounty of this lord!
- How many prodigal bits have slaves and peasants
- This night englutted! Who is not Lord Timon's?
- What heart, head, sword, force, means, but is Lord Timon's?
- Great Timon, noble, worthy, royal Timon!'
- Ah! when the means are gone that buy this praise,
- The breath is gone whereof this praise is made.
- Feast-won, fast-lost; one cloud of winter show'rs,
- These flies are couch'd.
- TIMON. Come, sermon me no further.
- No villainous bounty yet hath pass'd my heart;
- Unwisely, not ignobly, have I given.
- Why dost thou weep? Canst thou the conscience lack
- To think I shall lack friends? Secure thy heart:
- If I would broach the vessels of my love,
- And try the argument of hearts by borrowing,
- Men and men's fortunes could I frankly use
- As I can bid thee speak.
- FLAVIUS. Assurance bless your thoughts!
- TIMON. And, in some sort, these wants of mine are crown'd
- That I account them blessings; for by these
- Shall I try friends. You shall perceive how you
- Mistake my fortunes; I am wealthy in my friends.
- Within there! Flaminius! Servilius!
-
- Enter FLAMINIUS, SERVILIUS, and another SERVANT
-
- SERVANTS. My lord! my lord!
- TIMON. I will dispatch you severally- you to Lord Lucius; to Lord
- Lucullus you; I hunted with his honour to-day. You to Sempronius.
- Commend me to their loves; and I am proud, say, that my occasions
- have found time to use 'em toward a supply of money. Let the
- request be fifty talents.
- FLAMINIUS. As you have said, my lord. Exeunt SERVANTS
- FLAVIUS. [Aside] Lord Lucius and Lucullus? Humh!
- TIMON. Go you, sir, to the senators,
- Of whom, even to the state's best health, I have
- Deserv'd this hearing. Bid 'em send o' th' instant
- A thousand talents to me.
- FLAVIUS. I have been bold,
- For that I knew it the most general way,
- To them to use your signet and your name;
- But they do shake their heads, and I am here
- No richer in return.
- TIMON. Is't true? Can't be?
- FLAVIUS. They answer, in a joint and corporate voice,
- That now they are at fall, want treasure, cannot
- Do what they would, are sorry- you are honourable-
- But yet they could have wish'd- they know not-
- Something hath been amiss- a noble nature
- May catch a wrench- would all were well!- 'tis pity-
- And so, intending other serious matters,
- After distasteful looks, and these hard fractions,
- With certain half-caps and cold-moving nods,
- They froze me into silence.
- TIMON. You gods, reward them!
- Prithee, man, look cheerly. These old fellows
- Have their ingratitude in them hereditary.
- Their blood is cak'd, 'tis cold, it seldom flows;
- 'Tis lack of kindly warmth they are not kind;
- And nature, as it grows again toward earth,
- Is fashion'd for the journey dull and heavy.
- Go to Ventidius. Prithee be not sad,
- Thou art true and honest; ingeniously I speak,
- No blame belongs to thee. Ventidius lately
- Buried his father, by whose death he's stepp'd
- Into a great estate. When he was poor,
- Imprison'd, and in scarcity of friends,
- I clear'd him with five talents. Greet him from me,
- Bid him suppose some good necessity
- Touches his friend, which craves to be rememb'red
- With those five talents. That had, give't these fellows
- To whom 'tis instant due. Nev'r speak or think
- That Timon's fortunes 'mong his friends can sink.
- FLAVIUS. I would I could not think it.
- That thought is bounty's foe;
- Being free itself, it thinks all others so. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT III. SCENE I.
-LUCULLUS' house
-
-FLAMINIUS waiting to speak with LUCULLUS. Enter SERVANT to him
-
- SERVANT. I have told my lord of you; he is coming down to you.
- FLAMINIUS. I thank you, sir.
-
- Enter LUCULLUS
-
- SERVANT. Here's my lord.
- LUCULLUS. [Aside] One of Lord Timon's men? A gift, I warrant. Why,
- this hits right; I dreamt of a silver basin and ewer to-night-
- Flaminius, honest Flaminius, you are very respectively welcome,
- sir. Fill me some wine. [Exit SERVANT] And how does that
- honourable, complete, freehearted gentleman of Athens, thy very
- bountiful good lord and master?
- FLAMINIUS. His health is well, sir.
- LUCULLUS. I am right glad that his health is well, sir. And what
- hast thou there under thy cloak, pretty Flaminius?
- FLAMINIUS. Faith, nothing but an empty box, sir, which in my lord's
- behalf I come to entreat your honour to supply; who, having
- great and instant occasion to use fifty talents, hath sent to
- your lordship to furnish him, nothing doubting your present
- assistance therein.
- LUCULLIUS. La, la, la, la! 'Nothing doubting' says he? Alas, good
- lord! a noble gentleman 'tis, if he would not keep so good a
- house. Many a time and often I ha' din'd with him and told him
- on't; and come again to supper to him of purpose to have him
- spend less; and yet he would embrace no counsel, take no warning
- by my coming. Every man has his fault, and honesty is his. I ha'
- told him on't, but I could ne'er get him from't.
-
- Re-enter SERVANT, with wine
-
- SERVANT. Please your lordship, here is the wine.
- LUCULLUS. Flaminius, I have noted thee always wise. Here's to thee.
- FLAMINIUS. Your lordship speaks your pleasure.
- LUCULLUS. I have observed thee always for a towardly prompt spirit,
- give thee thy due, and one that knows what belongs to reason, and
- canst use the time well, if the time use thee well. Good parts in
- thee. [To SERVANT] Get you gone, sirrah. [Exit SERVANT] Draw
- nearer, honest Flaminius. Thy lord's a bountiful gentleman; but
- thou art wise, and thou know'st well enough, although thou com'st
- to me, that this is no time to lend money, especially upon bare
- friendship without security. Here's three solidares for thee.
- Good boy, wink at me, and say thou saw'st me not. Fare thee well.
- FLAMINIUS. Is't possible the world should so much differ,
- And we alive that liv'd? Fly, damned baseness,
- To him that worships thee. [Throwing the money back]
- LUCULLUS. Ha! Now I see thou art a fool, and fit for thy master.
- Exit
- FLAMINIUS. May these add to the number that may scald thee!
- Let molten coin be thy damnation,
- Thou disease of a friend and not himself!
- Has friendship such a faint and milky heart
- It turns in less than two nights? O you gods,
- I feel my master's passion! This slave
- Unto his honour has my lord's meat in him;
- Why should it thrive and turn to nutriment
- When he is turn'd to poison?
- O, may diseases only work upon't!
- And when he's sick to death, let not that part of nature
- Which my lord paid for be of any power
- To expel sickness, but prolong his hour! Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-A public place
-
-Enter Lucius, with three STRANGERS
-
- LUCIUS. Who, the Lord Timon? He is my very good friend, and an
- honourable gentleman.
- FIRST STRANGER. We know him for no less, though we are but
- strangers to him. But I can tell you one thing, my lord, and
- which I hear from common rumours: now Lord Timon's happy hours
- are done and past, and his estate shrinks from him.
- LUCIUS. Fie, no: do not believe it; he cannot want for money.
- SECOND STRANGER. But believe you this, my lord, that not long ago
- one of his men was with the Lord Lucullus to borrow so many
- talents; nay, urg'd extremely for't, and showed what necessity
- belong'd to't, and yet was denied.
- LUCIUS. How?
- SECOND STRANGER. I tell you, denied, my lord.
- LUCIUS. What a strange case was that! Now, before the gods, I am
- asham'd on't. Denied that honourable man! There was very little
- honour show'd in't. For my own part, I must needs confess I have
- received some small kindnesses from him, as money, plate, jewels,
- and such-like trifles, nothing comparing to his; yet, had he
- mistook him and sent to me, I should ne'er have denied his
- occasion so many talents.
-
- Enter SERVILIUS
-
- SERVILIUS. See, by good hap, yonder's my lord; I have sweat to see
- his honour.- My honour'd lord!
- LUCIUS. Servilius? You are kindly met, sir. Fare thee well; commend
- me to thy honourable virtuous lord, my very exquisite friend.
- SERVILIUS. May it please your honour, my lord hath sent-
- LUCIUS. Ha! What has he sent? I am so much endeared to that lord:
- he's ever sending. How shall I thank him, think'st thou? And what
- has he sent now?
- SERVILIUS. Has only sent his present occasion now, my lord,
- requesting your lordship to supply his instant use with so many
- talents.
- LUCIUS. I know his lordship is but merry with me;
- He cannot want fifty-five hundred talents.
- SERVILIUS. But in the mean time he wants less, my lord.
- If his occasion were not virtuous
- I should not urge it half so faithfully.
- LUCIUS. Dost thou speak seriously, Servilius?
- SERVILIUS. Upon my soul, 'tis true, sir.
- LUCIUS. What a wicked beast was I to disfurnish myself against such
- a good time, when I might ha' shown myself honourable! How
- unluckily it happ'ned that I should purchase the day before for a
- little part and undo a great deal of honour! Servilius, now
- before the gods, I am not able to do- the more beast, I say! I
- was sending to use Lord Timon myself, these gentlemen can
- witness; but I would not for the wealth of Athens I had done't
- now. Commend me bountifully to his good lordship, and I hope his
- honour will conceive the fairest of me, because I have no power
- to be kind. And tell him this from me: I count it one of my
- greatest afflictions, say, that I cannot pleasure such an
- honourable gentleman. Good Servilius, will you befriend me so far
- as to use mine own words to him?
- SERVILIUS. Yes, sir, I shall.
- LUCIUS. I'll look you out a good turn, Servilius.
- Exit SERVILIUS
- True, as you said, Timon is shrunk indeed;
- And he that's once denied will hardly speed. Exit
- FIRST STRANGER. Do you observe this, Hostilius?
- SECOND STRANGER. Ay, too well.
- FIRST STRANGER. Why, this is the world's soul; and just of the same
- piece
- Is every flatterer's spirit. Who can call him his friend
- That dips in the same dish? For, in my knowing,
- Timon has been this lord's father,
- And kept his credit with his purse;
- Supported his estate; nay, Timon's money
- Has paid his men their wages. He ne'er drinks
- But Timon's silver treads upon his lip;
- And yet- O, see the monstrousness of man
- When he looks out in an ungrateful shape!-
- He does deny him, in respect of his,
- What charitable men afford to beggars.
- THIRD STRANGER. Religion groans at it.
- FIRST STRANGER. For mine own part,
- I never tasted Timon in my life,
- Nor came any of his bounties over me
- To mark me for his friend; yet I protest,
- For his right noble mind, illustrious virtue,
- And honourable carriage,
- Had his necessity made use of me,
- I would have put my wealth into donation,
- And the best half should have return'd to him,
- So much I love his heart. But I perceive
- Men must learn now with pity to dispense;
- For policy sits above conscience. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-SEMPRONIUS' house
-
-Enter SEMPRONIUS and a SERVANT of TIMON'S
-
- SEMPRONIUS. Must he needs trouble me in't? Hum! 'Bove all others?
- He might have tried Lord Lucius or Lucullus;
- And now Ventidius is wealthy too,
- Whom he redeem'd from prison. All these
- Owe their estates unto him.
- SERVANT. My lord,
- They have all been touch'd and found base metal, for
- They have all denied him.
- SEMPRONIUS. How! Have they denied him?
- Has Ventidius and Lucullus denied him?
- And does he send to me? Three? Humh!
- It shows but little love or judgment in him.
- Must I be his last refuge? His friends, like physicians,
- Thrice give him over. Must I take th' cure upon me?
- Has much disgrac'd me in't; I'm angry at him,
- That might have known my place. I see no sense for't,
- But his occasions might have woo'd me first;
- For, in my conscience, I was the first man
- That e'er received gift from him.
- And does he think so backwardly of me now
- That I'll requite it last? No;
- So it may prove an argument of laughter
- To th' rest, and I 'mongst lords be thought a fool.
- I'd rather than the worth of thrice the sum
- Had sent to me first, but for my mind's sake;
- I'd such a courage to do him good. But now return,
- And with their faint reply this answer join:
- Who bates mine honour shall not know my coin. Exit
- SERVANT. Excellent! Your lordship's a goodly villain. The devil
- knew not what he did when he made man politic- he cross'd himself
- by't; and I cannot think but, in the end, the villainies of man
- will set him clear. How fairly this lord strives to appear foul!
- Takes virtuous copies to be wicked, like those that under hot
- ardent zeal would set whole realms on fire.
- Of such a nature is his politic love.
- This was my lord's best hope; now all are fled,
- Save only the gods. Now his friends are dead,
- Doors that were ne'er acquainted with their wards
- Many a bounteous year must be employ'd
- Now to guard sure their master.
- And this is all a liberal course allows:
- Who cannot keep his wealth must keep his house. Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE IV.
-A hall in TIMON'S house
-
-Enter two Of VARRO'S MEN, meeting LUCIUS' SERVANT, and others,
-all being servants of TIMON's creditors, to wait for his coming out.
-Then enter TITUS and HORTENSIUS
-
- FIRST VARRO'S SERVANT. Well met; good morrow, Titus and Hortensius.
- TITUS. The like to you, kind Varro.
- HORTENSIUS. Lucius! What, do we meet together?
- LUCIUS' SERVANT. Ay, and I think one business does command us all;
- for mine is money.
- TITUS. So is theirs and ours.
-
- Enter PHILOTUS
-
- LUCIUS' SERVANT. And Sir Philotus too!
- PHILOTUS. Good day at once.
- LUCIUS' SERVANT. welcome, good brother, what do you think the hour?
- PHILOTUS. Labouring for nine.
- LUCIUS' SERVANT. So much?
- PHILOTUS. Is not my lord seen yet?
- LUCIUS' SERVANT. Not yet.
- PHILOTUS. I wonder on't; he was wont to shine at seven.
- LUCIUS' SERVANT. Ay, but the days are wax'd shorter with him;
- You must consider that a prodigal course
- Is like the sun's, but not like his recoverable.
- I fear
- 'Tis deepest winter in Lord Timon's purse;
- That is, one may reach deep enough and yet
- Find little.
- PHILOTUS. I am of your fear for that.
- TITUS. I'll show you how t' observe a strange event.
- Your lord sends now for money.
- HORTENSIUS. Most true, he does.
- TITUS. And he wears jewels now of Timon's gift,
- For which I wait for money.
- HORTENSIUS. It is against my heart.
- LUCIUS' SERVANT. Mark how strange it shows
- Timon in this should pay more than he owes;
- And e'en as if your lord should wear rich jewels
- And send for money for 'em.
- HORTENSIUS. I'm weary of this charge, the gods can witness;
- I know my lord hath spent of Timon's wealth,
- And now ingratitude makes it worse than stealth.
- FIRST VARRO'S SERVANT. Yes, mine's three thousand crowns; what's
- yours?
- LUCIUS' SERVANT. Five thousand mine.
- FIRST VARRO'S SERVANT. 'Tis much deep; and it should seem by th'
- sum
- Your master's confidence was above mine,
- Else surely his had equall'd.
-
- Enter FLAMINIUS
-
- TITUS. One of Lord Timon's men.
- LUCIUS' SERVANT. Flaminius! Sir, a word. Pray, is my lord ready to
- come forth?
- FLAMINIUS. No, indeed, he is not.
- TITUS. We attend his lordship; pray signify so much.
- FLAMINIUS. I need not tell him that; he knows you are to diligent.
- Exit
-
- Enter FLAVIUS, in a cloak, muffled
-
- LUCIUS' SERVANT. Ha! Is not that his steward muffled so?
- He goes away in a cloud. Call him, call him.
- TITUS. Do you hear, sir?
- SECOND VARRO'S SERVANT. By your leave, sir.
- FLAVIUS. What do ye ask of me, my friend?
- TITUS. We wait for certain money here, sir.
- FLAVIUS. Ay,
- If money were as certain as your waiting,
- 'Twere sure enough.
- Why then preferr'd you not your sums and bills
- When your false masters eat of my lord's meat?
- Then they could smile, and fawn upon his debts,
- And take down th' int'rest into their glutt'nous maws.
- You do yourselves but wrong to stir me up;
- Let me pass quietly.
- Believe't, my lord and I have made an end:
- I have no more to reckon, he to spend.
- LUCIUS' SERVANT. Ay, but this answer will not serve.
- FLAVIUS. If 'twill not serve, 'tis not so base as you,
- For you serve knaves. Exit
- FIRST VARRO'S SERVANT. How! What does his cashier'd worship mutter?
- SECOND VARRO'S SERVANT. No matter what; he's poor, and that's
- revenge enough. Who can speak broader than he that has no house
- to put his head in? Such may rail against great buildings.
-
- Enter SERVILIUS
-
- TITUS. O, here's Servilius; now we shall know some answer.
- SERVILIUS. If I might beseech you, gentlemen, to repair some other
- hour, I should derive much from't; for take't of my soul, my lord
- leans wondrously to discontent. His comfortable temper has
- forsook him; he's much out of health and keeps his chamber.
- LUCIUS' SERVANT. Many do keep their chambers are not sick;
- And if it be so far beyond his health,
- Methinks he should the sooner pay his debts,
- And make a clear way to the gods.
- SERVILIUS. Good gods!
- TITUS. We cannot take this for answer, sir.
- FLAMINIUS. [Within] Servilius, help! My lord! my lord!
-
- Enter TIMON, in a rage, FLAMINIUS following
-
- TIMON. What, are my doors oppos'd against my passage?
- Have I been ever free, and must my house
- Be my retentive enemy, my gaol?
- The place which I have feasted, does it now,
- Like all mankind, show me an iron heart?
- LUCIUS' SERVANT. Put in now, Titus.
- TITUS. My lord, here is my bill.
- LUCIUS' SERVANT. Here's mine.
- HORTENSIUS. And mine, my lord.
- BOTH VARRO'S SERVANTS. And ours, my lord.
- PHILOTUS. All our bills.
- TIMON. Knock me down with 'em; cleave me to the girdle.
- LUCIUS' SERVANT. Alas, my lord-
- TIMON. Cut my heart in sums.
- TITUS. Mine, fifty talents.
- TIMON. Tell out my blood.
- LUCIUS' SERVANT. Five thousand crowns, my lord.
- TIMON. Five thousand drops pays that. What yours? and yours?
- FIRST VARRO'S SERVANT. My lord-
- SECOND VARRO'S SERVANT. My lord-
- TIMON. Tear me, take me, and the gods fall upon you! Exit
- HORTENSIUS. Faith, I perceive our masters may throw their caps at
- their money. These debts may well be call'd desperate ones, for a
- madman owes 'em. Exeunt
-
- Re-enter TIMON and FLAVIUS
-
- TIMON. They have e'en put my breath from me, the slaves.
- Creditors? Devils!
- FLAVIUS. My dear lord-
- TIMON. What if it should be so?
- FLAMINIUS. My lord-
- TIMON. I'll have it so. My steward!
- FLAVIUS. Here, my lord.
- TIMON. So fitly? Go, bid all my friends again:
- Lucius, Lucullus, and Sempronius- all.
- I'll once more feast the rascals.
- FLAVIUS. O my lord,
- You only speak from your distracted soul;
- There is not so much left to furnish out
- A moderate table.
- TIMON. Be it not in thy care.
- Go, I charge thee, invite them all; let in the tide
- Of knaves once more; my cook and I'll provide. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE V.
-The Senate House
-
-Enter three SENATORS at one door, ALCIBIADES meeting them, with attendants
-
- FIRST SENATOR. My lord, you have my voice to't: the fault's bloody.
- 'Tis necessary he should die:
- Nothing emboldens sin so much as mercy.
- SECOND SENATOR. Most true; the law shall bruise him.
- ALCIBIADES. Honour, health, and compassion, to the Senate!
- FIRST SENATOR. Now, Captain?
- ALCIBIADES. I am an humble suitor to your virtues;
- For pity is the virtue of the law,
- And none but tyrants use it cruelly.
- It pleases time and fortune to lie heavy
- Upon a friend of mine, who in hot blood
- Hath stepp'd into the law, which is past depth
- To those that without heed do plunge into't.
- He is a man, setting his fate aside,
- Of comely virtues;
- Nor did he soil the fact with cowardice-
- An honour in him which buys out his fault-
- But with a noble fury and fair spirit,
- Seeing his reputation touch'd to death,
- He did oppose his foe;
- And with such sober and unnoted passion
- He did behove his anger ere 'twas spent,
- As if he had but prov'd an argument.
- FIRST SENATOR. You undergo too strict a paradox,
- Striving to make an ugly deed look fair;
- Your words have took such pains as if they labour'd
- To bring manslaughter into form and set
- Quarrelling upon the head of valour; which, indeed,
- Is valour misbegot, and came into the world
- When sects and factions were newly born.
- He's truly valiant that can wisely suffer
- The worst that man can breathe,
- And make his wrongs his outsides,
- To wear them like his raiment, carelessly,
- And ne'er prefer his injuries to his heart,
- To bring it into danger.
- If wrongs be evils, and enforce us kill,
- What folly 'tis to hazard life for ill!
- ALCIBIADES. My lord-
- FIRST SENATOR. You cannot make gross sins look clear:
- To revenge is no valour, but to bear.
- ALCIBIADES. My lords, then, under favour, pardon me
- If I speak like a captain:
- Why do fond men expose themselves to battle,
- And not endure all threats? Sleep upon't,
- And let the foes quietly cut their throats,
- Without repugnancy? If there be
- Such valour in the bearing, what make we
- Abroad? Why, then, women are more valiant,
- That stay at home, if bearing carry it;
- And the ass more captain than the lion; the fellow
- Loaden with irons wiser than the judge,
- If wisdom be in suffering. O my lords,
- As you are great, be pitifully good.
- Who cannot condemn rashness in cold blood?
- To kill, I grant, is sin's extremest gust;
- But, in defence, by mercy, 'tis most just.
- To be in anger is impiety;
- But who is man that is not angry?
- Weigh but the crime with this.
- SECOND SENATOR. You breathe in vain.
- ALCIBIADES. In vain! His service done
- At Lacedaemon and Byzantium
- Were a sufficient briber for his life.
- FIRST SENATOR. What's that?
- ALCIBIADES. Why, I say, my lords, has done fair service,
- And slain in fight many of your enemies;
- How full of valour did he bear himself
- In the last conflict, and made plenteous wounds!
- SECOND SENATOR. He has made too much plenty with 'em.
- He's a sworn rioter; he has a sin that often
- Drowns him and takes his valour prisoner.
- If there were no foes, that were enough
- To overcome him. In that beastly fury
- He has been known to commit outrages
- And cherish factions. 'Tis inferr'd to us
- His days are foul and his drink dangerous.
- FIRST SENATOR. He dies.
- ALCIBIADES. Hard fate! He might have died in war.
- My lords, if not for any parts in him-
- Though his right arm might purchase his own time,
- And be in debt to none- yet, more to move you,
- Take my deserts to his, and join 'em both;
- And, for I know your reverend ages love
- Security, I'll pawn my victories, all
- My honours to you, upon his good returns.
- If by this crime he owes the law his life,
- Why, let the war receive't in valiant gore;
- For law is strict, and war is nothing more.
- FIRST SENATOR. We are for law: he dies. Urge it no more
- On height of our displeasure. Friend or brother,
- He forfeits his own blood that spills another.
- ALCIBIADES. Must it be so? It must not be. My lords,
- I do beseech you, know me.
- SECOND SENATOR. How!
- ALCIBIADES. Call me to your remembrances.
- THIRD SENATOR. What!
- ALCIBIADES. I cannot think but your age has forgot me;
- It could not else be I should prove so base
- To sue, and be denied such common grace.
- My wounds ache at you.
- FIRST SENATOR. Do you dare our anger?
- 'Tis in few words, but spacious in effect:
- We banish thee for ever.
- ALCIBIADES. Banish me!
- Banish your dotage! Banish usury
- That makes the Senate ugly.
- FIRST SENATOR. If after two days' shine Athens contain thee,
- Attend our weightier judgment. And, not to swell our spirit,
- He shall be executed presently. Exeunt SENATORS
- ALCIBIADES. Now the gods keep you old enough that you may live
- Only in bone, that none may look on you!
- I'm worse than mad; I have kept back their foes,
- While they have told their money and let out
- Their coin upon large interest, I myself
- Rich only in large hurts. All those for this?
- Is this the balsam that the usuring Senate
- Pours into captains' wounds? Banishment!
- It comes not ill; I hate not to be banish'd;
- It is a cause worthy my spleen and fury,
- That I may strike at Athens. I'll cheer up
- My discontented troops, and lay for hearts.
- 'Tis honour with most lands to be at odds;
- Soldiers should brook as little wrongs as gods. Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE VI.
-A banqueting hall in TIMON'S house
-
-Music. Tables set out; servants attending. Enter divers LORDS,
-friends of TIMON, at several doors
-
- FIRST LORD. The good time of day to you, sir.
- SECOND LORD. I also wish it to you. I think this honourable lord
- did but try us this other day.
- FIRST LORD. Upon that were my thoughts tiring when we encount'red.
- I hope it is not so low with him as he made it seem in the trial
- of his several friends.
- SECOND LORD. It should not be, by the persuasion of his new
- feasting.
- FIRST LORD. I should think so. He hath sent me an earnest inviting,
- which many my near occasions did urge me to put off; but he hath
- conjur'd me beyond them, and I must needs appear.
- SECOND LORD. In like manner was I in debt to my importunate
- business, but he would not hear my excuse. I am sorry, when he
- sent to borrow of me, that my provision was out.
- FIRST LORD. I am sick of that grief too, as I understand how all
- things go.
- SECOND LORD. Every man here's so. What would he have borrowed of
- you?
- FIRST LORD. A thousand pieces.
- SECOND LORD. A thousand pieces!
- FIRST LORD. What of you?
- SECOND LORD. He sent to me, sir- here he comes.
-
- Enter TIMON and attendants
-
- TIMON. With all my heart, gentlemen both! And how fare you?
- FIRST LORD. Ever at the best, hearing well of your lordship.
- SECOND LORD. The swallow follows not summer more willing than we
- your lordship.
- TIMON. [Aside] Nor more willingly leaves winter; such summer-birds
- are men- Gentlemen, our dinner will not recompense this long
- stay; feast your ears with the music awhile, if they will fare so
- harshly o' th' trumpet's sound; we shall to't presently.
- FIRST LORD. I hope it remains not unkindly with your lordship that
- I return'd you an empty messenger.
- TIMON. O sir, let it not trouble you.
- SECOND LORD. My noble lord-
- TIMON. Ah, my good friend, what cheer?
- SECOND LORD. My most honourable lord, I am e'en sick of shame that,
- when your lordship this other day sent to me, I was so
- unfortunate a beggar.
- TIMON. Think not on't, sir.
- SECOND LORD. If you had sent but two hours before-
- TIMON. Let it not cumber your better remembrance. [The banquet
- brought in] Come, bring in all together.
- SECOND LORD. All cover'd dishes!
- FIRST LORD. Royal cheer, I warrant you.
- THIRD LORD. Doubt not that, if money and the season can yield it.
- FIRST LORD. How do you? What's the news?
- THIRD LORD. Alcibiades is banish'd. Hear you of it?
- FIRST AND SECOND LORDS. Alcibiades banish'd!
- THIRD LORD. 'Tis so, be sure of it.
- FIRST LORD. How? how?
- SECOND LORD. I pray you, upon what?
- TIMON. My worthy friends, will you draw near?
- THIRD LORD. I'll tell you more anon. Here's a noble feast toward.
- SECOND LORD. This is the old man still.
- THIRD LORD. Will't hold? Will't hold?
- SECOND LORD. It does; but time will- and so-
- THIRD LORD. I do conceive.
- TIMON. Each man to his stool with that spur as he would to the lip
- of his mistress; your diet shall be in all places alike. Make not
- a city feast of it, to let the meat cool ere we can agree upon
- the first place. Sit, sit. The gods require our thanks:
-
- You great benefactors, sprinkle our society with thankfulness.
- For your own gifts make yourselves prais'd; but reserve still to
- give, lest your deities be despised. Lend to each man enough,
- that one need not lend to another; for were your god-heads to
- borrow of men, men would forsake the gods. Make the meat be
- beloved more than the man that gives it. Let no assembly of
- twenty be without a score of villains. If there sit twelve women
- at the table, let a dozen of them be- as they are. The rest of
- your foes, O gods, the senators of Athens, together with the
- common lag of people, what is amiss in them, you gods, make
- suitable for destruction. For these my present friends, as they
- are to me nothing, so in nothing bless them, and to nothing are
- they welcome.
-
- Uncover, dogs, and lap. [The dishes are uncovered and
- seen to he full of warm water]
- SOME SPEAK. What does his lordship mean?
- SOME OTHER. I know not.
- TIMON. May you a better feast never behold,
- You knot of mouth-friends! Smoke and lukewarm water
- Is your perfection. This is Timon's last;
- Who, stuck and spangled with your flatteries,
- Washes it off, and sprinkles in your faces
- [Throwing the water in their faces]
- Your reeking villainy. Live loath'd and long,
- Most smiling, smooth, detested parasites,
- Courteous destroyers, affable wolves, meek bears,
- You fools of fortune, trencher friends, time's flies,
- Cap and knee slaves, vapours, and minute-lacks!
- Of man and beast the infinite malady
- Crust you quite o'er! What, dost thou go?
- Soft, take thy physic first; thou too, and thou.
- Stay, I will lend thee money, borrow none. [Throws the
- dishes at them, and drives them out]
- What, all in motion? Henceforth be no feast
- Whereat a villain's not a welcome guest.
- Burn house! Sink Athens! Henceforth hated be
- Of Timon man and all humanity! Exit
-
- Re-enter the LORDS
-
- FIRST LORD. How now, my lords!
- SECOND LORD. Know you the quality of Lord Timon's fury?
- THIRD LORD. Push! Did you see my cap?
- FOURTH LORD. I have lost my gown.
- FIRST LORD. He's but a mad lord, and nought but humours sways him.
- He gave me a jewel th' other day, and now he has beat it out of
- my hat. Did you see my jewel?
- THIRD LORD. Did you see my cap?
- SECOND LORD. Here 'tis.
- FOURTH LORD. Here lies my gown.
- FIRST LORD. Let's make no stay.
- SECOND LORD. Lord Timon's mad.
- THIRD LORD. I feel't upon my bones.
- FOURTH LORD. One day he gives us diamonds, next day stones.
- Exeunt
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT IV. SCENE I.
-Without the walls of Athens
-
-Enter TIMON
-
- TIMON. Let me look back upon thee. O thou wall
- That girdles in those wolves, dive in the earth
- And fence not Athens! Matrons, turn incontinent.
- Obedience, fail in children! Slaves and fools,
- Pluck the grave wrinkled Senate from the bench
- And minister in their steads. To general filths
- Convert, o' th' instant, green virginity.
- Do't in your parents' eyes. Bankrupts, hold fast;
- Rather than render back, out with your knives
- And cut your trusters' throats. Bound servants, steal:
- Large-handed robbers your grave masters are,
- And pill by law. Maid, to thy master's bed:
- Thy mistress is o' th' brothel. Son of sixteen,
- Pluck the lin'd crutch from thy old limping sire,
- With it beat out his brains. Piety and fear,
- Religion to the gods, peace, justice, truth,
- Domestic awe, night-rest, and neighbourhood,
- Instruction, manners, mysteries, and trades,
- Degrees, observances, customs and laws,
- Decline to your confounding contraries
- And let confusion live. Plagues incident to men,
- Your potent and infectious fevers heap
- On Athens, ripe for stroke. Thou cold sciatica,
- Cripple our senators, that their limbs may halt
- As lamely as their manners. Lust and liberty,
- Creep in the minds and marrows of our youth,
- That 'gainst the stream of virtue they may strive
- And drown themselves in riot. Itches, blains,
- Sow all th' Athenian bosoms, and their crop
- Be general leprosy! Breath infect breath,
- That their society, as their friendship, may
- Be merely poison! Nothing I'll bear from thee
- But nakedness, thou detestable town!
- Take thou that too, with multiplying bans.
- Timon will to the woods, where he shall find
- Th' unkindest beast more kinder than mankind.
- The gods confound- hear me, you good gods all-
- The Athenians both within and out that wall!
- And grant, as Timon grows, his hate may grow
- To the whole race of mankind, high and low!
- Amen. Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-Athens. TIMON's house
-
-Enter FLAVIUS, with two or three SERVANTS
-
- FIRST SERVANT. Hear you, Master Steward, where's our master?
- Are we undone, cast off, nothing remaining?
- FLAVIUS. Alack, my fellows, what should I say to you?
- Let me be recorded by the righteous gods,
- I am as poor as you.
- FIRST SERVANT. Such a house broke!
- So noble a master fall'n! All gone, and not
- One friend to take his fortune by the arm
- And go along with him?
- SECOND SERVANT. As we do turn our backs
- From our companion, thrown into his grave,
- So his familiars to his buried fortunes
- Slink all away; leave their false vows with him,
- Like empty purses pick'd; and his poor self,
- A dedicated beggar to the air,
- With his disease of all-shunn'd poverty,
- Walks, like contempt, alone. More of our fellows.
-
- Enter other SERVANTS
-
- FLAVIUS. All broken implements of a ruin'd house.
- THIRD SERVANT. Yet do our hearts wear Timon's livery;
- That see I by our faces. We are fellows still,
- Serving alike in sorrow. Leak'd is our bark;
- And we, poor mates, stand on the dying deck,
- Hearing the surges threat. We must all part
- Into this sea of air.
- FLAVIUS. Good fellows all,
- The latest of my wealth I'll share amongst you.
- Wherever we shall meet, for Timon's sake,
- Let's yet be fellows; let's shake our heads and say,
- As 'twere a knell unto our master's fortune,
- 'We have seen better days.' Let each take some.
- [Giving them money]
- Nay, put out all your hands. Not one word more!
- Thus part we rich in sorrow, parting poor.
- [Embrace, and part several ways]
- O the fierce wretchedness that glory brings us!
- Who would not wish to be from wealth exempt,
- Since riches point to misery and contempt?
- Who would be so mock'd with glory, or to live
- But in a dream of friendship,
- To have his pomp, and all what state compounds,
- But only painted, like his varnish'd friends?
- Poor honest lord, brought low by his own heart,
- Undone by goodness! Strange, unusual blood,
- When man's worst sin is he does too much good!
- Who then dares to be half so kind again?
- For bounty, that makes gods, does still mar men.
- My dearest lord- blest to be most accurst,
- Rich only to be wretched- thy great fortunes
- Are made thy chief afflictions. Alas, kind lord!
- He's flung in rage from this ingrateful seat
- Of monstrous friends; nor has he with him to
- Supply his life, or that which can command it.
- I'll follow and enquire him out.
- I'll ever serve his mind with my best will;
- Whilst I have gold, I'll be his steward still. Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-The woods near the sea-shore. Before TIMON'S cave
-
-Enter TIMON in the woods
-
- TIMON. O blessed breeding sun, draw from the earth
- Rotten humidity; below thy sister's orb
- Infect the air! Twinn'd brothers of one womb-
- Whose procreation, residence, and birth,
- Scarce is dividant- touch them with several fortunes:
- The greater scorns the lesser. Not nature,
- To whom all sores lay siege, can bear great fortune
- But by contempt of nature.
- Raise me this beggar and deny't that lord:
- The senator shall bear contempt hereditary,
- The beggar native honour.
- It is the pasture lards the rother's sides,
- The want that makes him lean. Who dares, who dares,
- In purity of manhood stand upright,
- And say 'This man's a flatterer'? If one be,
- So are they all; for every grise of fortune
- Is smooth'd by that below. The learned pate
- Ducks to the golden fool. All's oblique;
- There's nothing level in our cursed natures
- But direct villainy. Therefore be abhorr'd
- All feasts, societies, and throngs of men!
- His semblable, yea, himself, Timon disdains.
- Destruction fang mankind! Earth, yield me roots.
- [Digging]
- Who seeks for better of thee, sauce his palate
- With thy most operant poison. What is here?
- Gold? Yellow, glittering, precious gold? No, gods,
- I am no idle votarist. Roots, you clear heavens!
- Thus much of this will make black white, foul fair,
- Wrong right, base noble, old young, coward valiant.
- Ha, you gods! why this? What, this, you gods? Why, this
- Will lug your priests and servants from your sides,
- Pluck stout men's pillows from below their heads-
- This yellow slave
- Will knit and break religions, bless th' accurs'd,
- Make the hoar leprosy ador'd, place thieves
- And give them title, knee, and approbation,
- With senators on the bench. This is it
- That makes the wappen'd widow wed again-
- She whom the spital-house and ulcerous sores
- Would cast the gorge at this embalms and spices
- To th 'April day again. Come, damn'd earth,
- Thou common whore of mankind, that puts odds
- Among the rout of nations, I will make thee
- Do thy right nature. [March afar off]
- Ha! a drum? Th'art quick,
- But yet I'll bury thee. Thou't go, strong thief,
- When gouty keepers of thee cannot stand.
- Nay, stay thou out for earnest. [Keeping some gold]
-
- Enter ALCIBIADES, with drum and fife, in warlike
- manner; and PHRYNIA and TIMANDRA
-
- ALCIBIADES. What art thou there? Speak.
- TIMON. A beast, as thou art. The canker gnaw thy heart
- For showing me again the eyes of man!
- ALCIBIADES. What is thy name? Is man so hateful to thee
- That art thyself a man?
- TIMON. I am Misanthropos, and hate mankind.
- For thy part, I do wish thou wert a dog,
- That I might love thee something.
- ALCIBIADES. I know thee well;
- But in thy fortunes am unlearn'd and strange.
- TIMON. I know thee too; and more than that I know thee
- I not desire to know. Follow thy drum;
- With man's blood paint the ground, gules, gules.
- Religious canons, civil laws, are cruel;
- Then what should war be? This fell whore of thine
- Hath in her more destruction than thy sword
- For all her cherubin look.
- PHRYNIA. Thy lips rot off!
- TIMON. I will not kiss thee; then the rot returns
- To thine own lips again.
- ALCIBIADES. How came the noble Timon to this change?
- TIMON. As the moon does, by wanting light to give.
- But then renew I could not, like the moon;
- There were no suns to borrow of.
- ALCIBIADES. Noble Timon,
- What friendship may I do thee?
- TIMON. None, but to
- Maintain my opinion.
- ALCIBIADES. What is it, Timon?
- TIMON. Promise me friendship, but perform none. If thou wilt not
- promise, the gods plague thee, for thou art man! If thou dost
- perform, confound thee, for thou art a man!
- ALCIBIADES. I have heard in some sort of thy miseries.
- TIMON. Thou saw'st them when I had prosperity.
- ALCIBIADES. I see them now; then was a blessed time.
- TIMON. As thine is now, held with a brace of harlots.
- TIMANDRA. Is this th' Athenian minion whom the world
- Voic'd so regardfully?
- TIMON. Art thou Timandra?
- TIMANDRA. Yes.
- TIMON. Be a whore still; they love thee not that use thee.
- Give them diseases, leaving with thee their lust.
- Make use of thy salt hours. Season the slaves
- For tubs and baths; bring down rose-cheek'd youth
- To the tub-fast and the diet.
- TIMANDRA. Hang thee, monster!
- ALCIBIADES. Pardon him, sweet Timandra, for his wits
- Are drown'd and lost in his calamities.
- I have but little gold of late, brave Timon,
- The want whereof doth daily make revolt
- In my penurious band. I have heard, and griev'd,
- How cursed Athens, mindless of thy worth,
- Forgetting thy great deeds, when neighbour states,
- But for thy sword and fortune, trod upon them-
- TIMON. I prithee beat thy drum and get thee gone.
- ALCIBIADES. I am thy friend, and pity thee, dear Timon.
- TIMON. How dost thou pity him whom thou dost trouble?
- I had rather be alone.
- ALCIBIADES. Why, fare thee well;
- Here is some gold for thee.
- TIMON. Keep it: I cannot eat it.
- ALCIBIADES. When I have laid proud Athens on a heap-
- TIMON. War'st thou 'gainst Athens?
- ALCIBIADES. Ay, Timon, and have cause.
- TIMON. The gods confound them all in thy conquest;
- And thee after, when thou hast conquer'd!
- ALCIBIADES. Why me, Timon?
- TIMON. That by killing of villains
- Thou wast born to conquer my country.
- Put up thy gold. Go on. Here's gold. Go on.
- Be as a planetary plague, when Jove
- Will o'er some high-vic'd city hang his poison
- In the sick air; let not thy sword skip one.
- Pity not honour'd age for his white beard:
- He is an usurer. Strike me the counterfeit matron:
- It is her habit only that is honest,
- Herself's a bawd. Let not the virgin's cheek
- Make soft thy trenchant sword; for those milk paps
- That through the window bars bore at men's eyes
- Are not within the leaf of pity writ,
- But set them down horrible traitors. Spare not the babe
- Whose dimpled smiles from fools exhaust their mercy;
- Think it a bastard whom the oracle
- Hath doubtfully pronounc'd thy throat shall cut,
- And mince it sans remorse. Swear against abjects;
- Put armour on thine ears and on thine eyes,
- Whose proof nor yells of mothers, maids, nor babes,
- Nor sight of priests in holy vestments bleeding,
- Shall pierce a jot. There's gold to pay thy soldiers.
- Make large confusion; and, thy fury spent,
- Confounded be thyself! Speak not, be gone.
- ALCIBIADES. Hast thou gold yet? I'll take the gold thou givest me,
- Not all thy counsel.
- TIMON. Dost thou, or dost thou not, heaven's curse upon thee!
- PHRYNIA AND TIMANDRA. Give us some gold, good Timon.
- Hast thou more?
- TIMON. Enough to make a whore forswear her trade,
- And to make whores a bawd. Hold up, you sluts,
- Your aprons mountant; you are not oathable,
- Although I know you'll swear, terribly swear,
- Into strong shudders and to heavenly agues,
- Th' immortal gods that hear you. Spare your oaths;
- I'll trust to your conditions. Be whores still;
- And he whose pious breath seeks to convert you-
- Be strong in whore, allure him, burn him up;
- Let your close fire predominate his smoke,
- And be no turncoats. Yet may your pains six months
- Be quite contrary! And thatch your poor thin roofs
- With burdens of the dead- some that were hang'd,
- No matter. Wear them, betray with them. Whore still;
- Paint till a horse may mire upon your face.
- A pox of wrinkles!
- PHRYNIA AND TIMANDRA. Well, more gold. What then?
- Believe't that we'll do anything for gold.
- TIMON. Consumptions sow
- In hollow bones of man; strike their sharp shins,
- And mar men's spurring. Crack the lawyer's voice,
- That he may never more false title plead,
- Nor sound his quillets shrilly. Hoar the flamen,
- That scolds against the quality of flesh
- And not believes himself. Down with the nose,
- Down with it flat, take the bridge quite away
- Of him that, his particular to foresee,
- Smells from the general weal. Make curl'd-pate ruffians bald,
- And let the unscarr'd braggarts of the war
- Derive some pain from you. Plague all,
- That your activity may defeat and quell
- The source of all erection. There's more gold.
- Do you damn others, and let this damn you,
- And ditches grave you all!
- PHRYNIA AND TIMANDRA. More counsel with more money, bounteous
- Timon.
- TIMON. More whore, more mischief first; I have given you earnest.
- ALCIBIADES. Strike up the drum towards Athens. Farewell, Timon;
- If I thrive well, I'll visit thee again.
- TIMON. If I hope well, I'll never see thee more.
- ALCIBIADES. I never did thee harm.
- TIMON. Yes, thou spok'st well of me.
- ALCIBIADES. Call'st thou that harm?
- TIMON. Men daily find it. Get thee away, and take
- Thy beagles with thee.
- ALCIBIADES. We but offend him. Strike.
- Drum beats. Exeunt all but TIMON
- TIMON. That nature, being sick of man's unkindness,
- Should yet be hungry! Common mother, thou, [Digging]
- Whose womb unmeasurable and infinite breast
- Teems and feeds all; whose self-same mettle,
- Whereof thy proud child, arrogant man, is puff'd,
- Engenders the black toad and adder blue,
- The gilded newt and eyeless venom'd worm,
- With all th' abhorred births below crisp heaven
- Whereon Hyperion's quick'ning fire doth shine-
- Yield him, who all thy human sons doth hate,
- From forth thy plenteous bosom, one poor root!
- Ensear thy fertile and conceptious womb,
- Let it no more bring out ingrateful man!
- Go great with tigers, dragons, wolves, and bears;
- Teem with new monsters whom thy upward face
- Hath to the marbled mansion all above
- Never presented!- O, a root! Dear thanks!-
- Dry up thy marrows, vines, and plough-torn leas,
- Whereof ingrateful man, with liquorish draughts
- And morsels unctuous, greases his pure mind,
- That from it all consideration slips-
-
- Enter APEMANTUS
-
- More man? Plague, plague!
- APEMANTUS. I was directed hither. Men report
- Thou dost affect my manners and dost use them.
- TIMON. 'Tis, then, because thou dost not keep a dog,
- Whom I would imitate. Consumption catch thee!
- APEMANTUS. This is in thee a nature but infected,
- A poor unmanly melancholy sprung
- From change of fortune. Why this spade, this place?
- This slave-like habit and these looks of care?
- Thy flatterers yet wear silk, drink wine, lie soft,
- Hug their diseas'd perfumes, and have forgot
- That ever Timon was. Shame not these woods
- By putting on the cunning of a carper.
- Be thou a flatterer now, and seek to thrive
- By that which has undone thee: hinge thy knee,
- And let his very breath whom thou'lt observe
- Blow off thy cap; praise his most vicious strain,
- And call it excellent. Thou wast told thus;
- Thou gav'st thine ears, like tapsters that bade welcome,
- To knaves and all approachers. 'Tis most just
- That thou turn rascal; hadst thou wealth again
- Rascals should have't. Do not assume my likeness.
- TIMON. Were I like thee, I'd throw away myself.
- APEMANTUS. Thou hast cast away thyself, being like thyself;
- A madman so long, now a fool. What, think'st
- That the bleak air, thy boisterous chamberlain,
- Will put thy shirt on warm? Will these moist trees,
- That have outliv'd the eagle, page thy heels
- And skip when thou point'st out? Will the cold brook,
- Candied with ice, caudle thy morning taste
- To cure thy o'ernight's surfeit? Call the creatures
- Whose naked natures live in all the spite
- Of wreakful heaven, whose bare unhoused trunks,
- To the conflicting elements expos'd,
- Answer mere nature- bid them flatter thee.
- O, thou shalt find-
- TIMON. A fool of thee. Depart.
- APEMANTUS. I love thee better now than e'er I did.
- TIMON. I hate thee worse.
- APEMANTUS. Why?
- TIMON. Thou flatter'st misery.
- APEMANTUS. I flatter not, but say thou art a caitiff.
- TIMON. Why dost thou seek me out?
- APEMANTUS. To vex thee.
- TIMON. Always a villain's office or a fool's.
- Dost please thyself in't?
- APEMANTUS. Ay.
- TIMON. What, a knave too?
- APEMANTUS. If thou didst put this sour-cold habit on
- To castigate thy pride, 'twere well; but thou
- Dost it enforcedly. Thou'dst courtier be again
- Wert thou not beggar. Willing misery
- Outlives incertain pomp, is crown'd before.
- The one is filling still, never complete;
- The other, at high wish. Best state, contentless,
- Hath a distracted and most wretched being,
- Worse than the worst, content.
- Thou should'st desire to die, being miserable.
- TIMON. Not by his breath that is more miserable.
- Thou art a slave whom Fortune's tender arm
- With favour never clasp'd, but bred a dog.
- Hadst thou, like us from our first swath, proceeded
- The sweet degrees that this brief world affords
- To such as may the passive drugs of it
- Freely command, thou wouldst have plung'd thyself
- In general riot, melted down thy youth
- In different beds of lust, and never learn'd
- The icy precepts of respect, but followed
- The sug'red game before thee. But myself,
- Who had the world as my confectionary;
- The mouths, the tongues, the eyes, and hearts of men
- At duty, more than I could frame employment;
- That numberless upon me stuck, as leaves
- Do on the oak, have with one winter's brush
- Fell from their boughs, and left me open, bare
- For every storm that blows- I to bear this,
- That never knew but better, is some burden.
- Thy nature did commence in sufferance; time
- Hath made thee hard in't. Why shouldst thou hate men?
- They never flatter'd thee. What hast thou given?
- If thou wilt curse, thy father, that poor rag,
- Must be thy subject; who, in spite, put stuff
- To some she-beggar and compounded thee
- Poor rogue hereditary. Hence, be gone.
- If thou hadst not been born the worst of men,
- Thou hadst been a knave and flatterer.
- APEMANTUS. Art thou proud yet?
- TIMON. Ay, that I am not thee.
- APEMANTUS. I, that I was
- No prodigal.
- TIMON. I, that I am one now.
- Were all the wealth I have shut up in thee,
- I'd give thee leave to hang it. Get thee gone.
- That the whole life of Athens were in this!
- Thus would I eat it. [Eating a root]
- APEMANTUS. Here! I will mend thy feast.
- [Offering him food]
- TIMON. First mend my company: take away thyself.
- APEMANTUS. So I shall mend mine own by th' lack of thine.
- TIMON. 'Tis not well mended so; it is but botch'd.
- If not, I would it were.
- APEMANTUS. What wouldst thou have to Athens?
- TIMON. Thee thither in a whirlwind. If thou wilt,
- Tell them there I have gold; look, so I have.
- APEMANTUS. Here is no use for gold.
- TIMON. The best and truest;
- For here it sleeps and does no hired harm.
- APEMANTUS. Where liest a nights, Timon?
- TIMON. Under that's above me.
- Where feed'st thou a days, Apemantus?
- APEMANTUS. Where my stomach. finds meat; or rather, where I eat it.
- TIMON. Would poison were obedient, and knew my mind!
- APEMANTUS. Where wouldst thou send it?
- TIMON. To sauce thy dishes.
- APEMANTUS. The middle of humanity thou never knewest, but the
- extremity of both ends. When thou wast in thy gilt and thy
- perfume, they mock'd thee for too much curiosity; in thy rags
- thou know'st none, but art despis'd for the contrary. There's a
- medlar for thee; eat it.
- TIMON. On what I hate I feed not.
- APEMANTUS. Dost hate a medlar?
- TIMON. Ay, though it look like thee.
- APEMANTUS. An th' hadst hated medlars sooner, thou shouldst have
- loved thyself better now. What man didst thou ever know unthrift
- that was beloved after his means?
- TIMON. Who, without those means thou talk'st of, didst thou ever
- know belov'd?
- APEMANTUS. Myself.
- TIMON. I understand thee: thou hadst some means to keep a dog.
- APEMANTUS. What things in the world canst thou nearest compare to
- thy flatterers?
- TIMON. Women nearest; but men, men are the things themselves. What
- wouldst thou do with the world, Apemantus, if it lay in thy
- power?
- APEMANTUS. Give it the beasts, to be rid of the men.
- TIMON. Wouldst thou have thyself fall in the confusion of men, and
- remain a beast with the beasts?
- APEMANTUS. Ay, Timon.
- TIMON. A beastly ambition, which the gods grant thee t' attain to!
- If thou wert the lion, the fox would beguile thee; if thou wert
- the lamb, the fox would eat thee; if thou wert the fox, the lion
- would suspect thee, when, peradventure, thou wert accus'd by the
- ass. If thou wert the ass, thy dulness would torment thee; and
- still thou liv'dst but as a breakfast to the wolf. If thou wert
- the wolf, thy greediness would afflict thee, and oft thou
- shouldst hazard thy life for thy dinner. Wert thou the unicorn,
- pride and wrath would confound thee, and make thine own self the
- conquest of thy fury. Wert thou bear, thou wouldst be kill'd by
- the horse; wert thou a horse, thou wouldst be seiz'd by the
- leopard; wert thou a leopard, thou wert german to the lion, and
- the spots of thy kindred were jurors on thy life. All thy safety
- were remotion, and thy defence absence. What beast couldst thou
- be that were not subject to a beast? And what beast art thou
- already, that seest not thy loss in transformation!
- APEMANTUS. If thou couldst please me with speaking to me, thou
- mightst have hit upon it here. The commonwealth of Athens is
- become a forest of beasts.
- TIMON. How has the ass broke the wall, that thou art out of the
- city?
- APEMANTUS. Yonder comes a poet and a painter. The plague of company
- light upon thee! I will fear to catch it, and give way. When I
- know not what else to do, I'll see thee again.
- TIMON. When there is nothing living but thee, thou shalt be
- welcome. I had rather be a beggar's dog than Apemantus.
- APEMANTUS. Thou art the cap of all the fools alive.
- TIMON. Would thou wert clean enough to spit upon!
- APEMANTUS. A plague on thee! thou art too bad to curse.
- TIMON. All villains that do stand by thee are pure.
- APEMANTUS. There is no leprosy but what thou speak'st.
- TIMON. If I name thee.
- I'll beat thee- but I should infect my hands.
- APEMANTUS. I would my tongue could rot them off!
- TIMON. Away, thou issue of a mangy dog!
- Choler does kill me that thou art alive;
- I swoon to see thee.
- APEMANTUS. Would thou wouldst burst!
- TIMON. Away,
- Thou tedious rogue! I am sorry I shall lose
- A stone by thee. [Throws a stone at him]
- APEMANTUS. Beast!
- TIMON. Slave!
- APEMANTUS. Toad!
- TIMON. Rogue, rogue, rogue!
- I am sick of this false world, and will love nought
- But even the mere necessities upon't.
- Then, Timon, presently prepare thy grave;
- Lie where the light foam of the sea may beat
- Thy gravestone daily; make thine epitaph,
- That death in me at others' lives may laugh.
- [Looks at the gold] O thou sweet king-killer, and dear divorce
- 'Twixt natural son and sire! thou bright defiler
- Of Hymen's purest bed! thou valiant Mars!
- Thou ever young, fresh, lov'd, and delicate wooer,
- Whose blush doth thaw the consecrated snow
- That lies on Dian's lap! thou visible god,
- That sold'rest close impossibilities,
- And mak'st them kiss! that speak'st with every tongue
- To every purpose! O thou touch of hearts!
- Think thy slave man rebels, and by thy virtue
- Set them into confounding odds, that beasts
- May have the world in empire!
- APEMANTUS. Would 'twere so!
- But not till I am dead. I'll say th' hast gold.
- Thou wilt be throng'd to shortly.
- TIMON. Throng'd to?
- APEMANTUS. Ay.
- TIMON. Thy back, I prithee.
- APEMANTUS. Live, and love thy misery!
- TIMON. Long live so, and so die! [Exit APEMANTUS] I am quit. More
- things like men? Eat, Timon, and abhor them.
-
- Enter the BANDITTI
-
- FIRST BANDIT. Where should he have this gold? It is some poor
- fragment, some slender ort of his remainder. The mere want of
- gold and the falling-from of his friends drove him into this
- melancholy.
- SECOND BANDIT. It is nois'd he hath a mass of treasure.
- THIRD BANDIT. Let us make the assay upon him; if he care not for't,
- he will supply us easily; if he covetously reserve it, how
- shall's get it?
- SECOND BANDIT. True; for he bears it not about him. 'Tis hid.
- FIRST BANDIT. Is not this he?
- BANDITTI. Where?
- SECOND BANDIT. 'Tis his description.
- THIRD BANDIT. He; I know him.
- BANDITTI. Save thee, Timon!
- TIMON. Now, thieves?
- BANDITTI. Soldiers, not thieves.
- TIMON. Both too, and women's sons.
- BANDITTI. We are not thieves, but men that much do want.
- TIMON. Your greatest want is, you want much of meat.
- Why should you want? Behold, the earth hath roots;
- Within this mile break forth a hundred springs;
- The oaks bear mast, the briars scarlet hips;
- The bounteous housewife Nature on each bush
- Lays her full mess before you. Want! Why want?
- FIRST BANDIT. We cannot live on grass, on berries, water,
- As beasts and birds and fishes.
- TIMON. Nor on the beasts themselves, the birds, and fishes;
- You must eat men. Yet thanks I must you con
- That you are thieves profess'd, that you work not
- In holier shapes; for there is boundless theft
- In limited professions. Rascal thieves,
- Here's gold. Go, suck the subtle blood o' th' grape
- Till the high fever seethe your blood to froth,
- And so scape hanging. Trust not the physician;
- His antidotes are poison, and he slays
- Moe than you rob. Take wealth and lives together;
- Do villainy, do, since you protest to do't,
- Like workmen. I'll example you with thievery:
- The sun's a thief, and with his great attraction
- Robs the vast sea; the moon's an arrant thief,
- And her pale fire she snatches from the sun;
- The sea's a thief, whose liquid surge resolves
- The moon into salt tears; the earth's a thief,
- That feeds and breeds by a composture stol'n
- From gen'ral excrement- each thing's a thief.
- The laws, your curb and whip, in their rough power
- Has uncheck'd theft. Love not yourselves; away,
- Rob one another. There's more gold. Cut throats;
- All that you meet are thieves. To Athens go,
- Break open shops; nothing can you steal
- But thieves do lose it. Steal not less for this
- I give you; and gold confound you howsoe'er!
- Amen.
- THIRD BANDIT. Has almost charm'd me from my profession by
- persuading me to it.
- FIRST BANDIT. 'Tis in the malice of mankind that he thus advises
- us; not to have us thrive in our mystery.
- SECOND BANDIT. I'll believe him as an enemy, and give over my
- trade.
- FIRST BANDIT. Let us first see peace in Athens. There is no time so
- miserable but a man may be true. Exeunt THIEVES
-
- Enter FLAVIUS, to TIMON
-
- FLAVIUS. O you gods!
- Is yond despis'd and ruinous man my lord?
- Full of decay and failing? O monument
- And wonder of good deeds evilly bestow'd!
- What an alteration of honour
- Has desp'rate want made!
- What viler thing upon the earth than friends,
- Who can bring noblest minds to basest ends!
- How rarely does it meet with this time's guise,
- When man was wish'd to love his enemies!
- Grant I may ever love, and rather woo
- Those that would mischief me than those that do!
- Has caught me in his eye; I will present
- My honest grief unto him, and as my lord
- Still serve him with my life. My dearest master!
- TIMON. Away! What art thou?
- FLAVIUS. Have you forgot me, sir?
- TIMON. Why dost ask that? I have forgot all men;
- Then, if thou grant'st th'art a man, I have forgot thee.
- FLAVIUS. An honest poor servant of yours.
- TIMON. Then I know thee not.
- I never had honest man about me, I.
- All I kept were knaves, to serve in meat to villains.
- FLAVIUS. The gods are witness,
- Nev'r did poor steward wear a truer grief
- For his undone lord than mine eyes for you.
- TIMON. What, dost thou weep? Come nearer. Then I love thee
- Because thou art a woman and disclaim'st
- Flinty mankind, whose eyes do never give
- But thorough lust and laughter. Pity's sleeping.
- Strange times, that weep with laughing, not with weeping!
- FLAVIUS. I beg of you to know me, good my lord,
- T' accept my grief, and whilst this poor wealth lasts
- To entertain me as your steward still.
- TIMON. Had I a steward
- So true, so just, and now so comfortable?
- It almost turns my dangerous nature mild.
- Let me behold thy face. Surely, this man
- Was born of woman.
- Forgive my general and exceptless rashness,
- You perpetual-sober gods! I do proclaim
- One honest man- mistake me not, but one;
- No more, I pray- and he's a steward.
- How fain would I have hated all mankind!
- And thou redeem'st thyself. But all, save thee,
- I fell with curses.
- Methinks thou art more honest now than wise;
- For by oppressing and betraying me
- Thou mightst have sooner got another service;
- For many so arrive at second masters
- Upon their first lord's neck. But tell me true,
- For I must ever doubt though ne'er so sure,
- Is not thy kindness subtle, covetous,
- If not a usuring kindness, and as rich men deal gifts,
- Expecting in return twenty for one?
- FLAVIUS. No, my most worthy master, in whose breast
- Doubt and suspect, alas, are plac'd too late!
- You should have fear'd false times when you did feast:
- Suspect still comes where an estate is least.
- That which I show, heaven knows, is merely love,
- Duty, and zeal, to your unmatched mind,
- Care of your food and living; and believe it,
- My most honour'd lord,
- For any benefit that points to me,
- Either in hope or present, I'd exchange
- For this one wish, that you had power and wealth
- To requite me by making rich yourself.
- TIMON. Look thee, 'tis so! Thou singly honest man,
- Here, take. The gods, out of my misery,
- Have sent thee treasure. Go, live rich and happy,
- But thus condition'd; thou shalt build from men;
- Hate all, curse all, show charity to none,
- But let the famish'd flesh slide from the bone
- Ere thou relieve the beggar. Give to dogs
- What thou deniest to men; let prisons swallow 'em,
- Debts wither 'em to nothing. Be men like blasted woods,
- And may diseases lick up their false bloods!
- And so, farewell and thrive.
- FLAVIUS. O, let me stay
- And comfort you, my master.
- TIMON. If thou hat'st curses,
- Stay not; fly whilst thou art blest and free.
- Ne'er see thou man, and let me ne'er see thee.
- Exeunt severally
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT V. SCENE I.
-The woods. Before TIMON's cave
-
-Enter POET and PAINTER
-
- PAINTER. As I took note of the place, it cannot be far where he
- abides.
- POET. to be thought of him? Does the rumour hold for true that he's
- so full of gold?
- PAINTER. Certain. Alcibiades reports it; Phrynia and Timandra had
- gold of him. He likewise enrich'd poor straggling soldiers with
- great quantity. 'Tis said he gave unto his steward a mighty sum.
- POET. Then this breaking of his has been but a try for his friends?
- PAINTER. Nothing else. You shall see him a palm in Athens again,
- and flourish with the highest. Therefore 'tis not amiss we tender
- our loves to him in this suppos'd distress of his; it will show
- honestly in us, and is very likely to load our purposes with what
- they travail for, if it be just and true report that goes of his
- having.
- POET. What have you now to present unto him?
- PAINTER. Nothing at this time but my visitation; only I will
- promise him an excellent piece.
- POET. I must serve him so too, tell him of an intent that's coming
- toward him.
- PAINTER. Good as the best. Promising is the very air o' th' time;
- it opens the eyes of expectation. Performance is ever the duller
- for his act, and but in the plainer and simpler kind of people
- the deed of saying is quite out of use. To promise is most
- courtly and fashionable; performance is a kind of will or
- testament which argues a great sickness in his judgment that
- makes it.
-
- Enter TIMON from his cave
-
- TIMON. [Aside] Excellent workman! Thou canst not paint a man so bad
- as is thyself.
- POET. I am thinking what I shall say I have provided for him. It
- must be a personating of himself; a satire against the softness
- of prosperity, with a discovery of the infinite flatteries that
- follow youth and opulency.
- TIMON. [Aside] Must thou needs stand for a villain in thine own
- work? Wilt thou whip thine own faults in other men? Do so, I have
- gold for thee.
- POET. Nay, let's seek him;
- Then do we sin against our own estate
- When we may profit meet and come too late.
- PAINTER. True;
- When the day serves, before black-corner'd night,
- Find what thou want'st by free and offer'd light.
- Come.
- TIMON. [Aside] I'll meet you at the turn. What a god's gold,
- That he is worshipp'd in a baser temple
- Than where swine feed!
- 'Tis thou that rig'st the bark and plough'st the foam,
- Settlest admired reverence in a slave.
- To thee be worship! and thy saints for aye
- Be crown'd with plagues, that thee alone obey!
- Fit I meet them. [Advancing from his cave]
- POET. Hail, worthy Timon!
- PAINTER. Our late noble master!
- TIMON. Have I once liv'd to see two honest men?
- POET. Sir,
- Having often of your open bounty tasted,
- Hearing you were retir'd, your friends fall'n off,
- Whose thankless natures- O abhorred spirits!-
- Not all the whips of heaven are large enough-
- What! to you,
- Whose star-like nobleness gave life and influence
- To their whole being! I am rapt, and cannot cover
- The monstrous bulk of this ingratitude
- With any size of words.
- TIMON. Let it go naked: men may see't the better.
- You that are honest, by being what you are,
- Make them best seen and known.
- PAINTER. He and myself
- Have travail'd in the great show'r of your gifts,
- And sweetly felt it.
- TIMON. Ay, you are honest men.
- PAINTER. We are hither come to offer you our service.
- TIMON. Most honest men! Why, how shall I requite you?
- Can you eat roots, and drink cold water- No?
- BOTH. What we can do, we'll do, to do you service.
- TIMON. Y'are honest men. Y'have heard that I have gold;
- I am sure you have. Speak truth; y'are honest men.
- PAINTER. So it is said, my noble lord; but therefore
- Came not my friend nor I.
- TIMON. Good honest men! Thou draw'st a counterfeit
- Best in all Athens. Th'art indeed the best;
- Thou counterfeit'st most lively.
- PAINTER. So, so, my lord.
- TIMON. E'en so, sir, as I say. [To To POET] And for thy fiction,
- Why, thy verse swells with stuff so fine and smooth
- That thou art even natural in thine art.
- But for all this, my honest-natur'd friends,
- I must needs say you have a little fault.
- Marry, 'tis not monstrous in you; neither wish I
- You take much pains to mend.
- BOTH. Beseech your honour
- To make it known to us.
- TIMON. You'll take it ill.
- BOTH. Most thankfully, my lord.
- TIMON. Will you indeed?
- BOTH. Doubt it not, worthy lord.
- TIMON. There's never a one of you but trusts a knave
- That mightily deceives you.
- BOTH. Do we, my lord?
- TIMON. Ay, and you hear him cog, see him dissemble,
- Know his gross patchery, love him, feed him,
- Keep in your bosom; yet remain assur'd
- That he's a made-up villain.
- PAINTER. I know not such, my lord.
- POET. Nor I.
- TIMON. Look you, I love you well; I'll give you gold,
- Rid me these villains from your companies.
- Hang them or stab them, drown them in a draught,
- Confound them by some course, and come to me,
- I'll give you gold enough.
- BOTH. Name them, my lord; let's know them.
- TIMON. You that way, and you this- but two in company;
- Each man apart, all single and alone,
- Yet an arch-villain keeps him company.
- [To the PAINTER] If, where thou art, two villians shall not be,
- Come not near him. [To the POET] If thou wouldst not reside
- But where one villain is, then him abandon.-
- Hence, pack! there's gold; you came for gold, ye slaves.
- [To the PAINTER] You have work for me; there's payment; hence!
- [To the POET] You are an alchemist; make gold of that.-
- Out, rascal dogs! [Beats and drives them out]
-
- Enter FLAVIUS and two SENATORS
-
- FLAVIUS. It is vain that you would speak with Timon;
- For he is set so only to himself
- That nothing but himself which looks like man
- Is friendly with him.
- FIRST SENATOR. Bring us to his cave.
- It is our part and promise to th' Athenians
- To speak with Timon.
- SECOND SENATOR. At all times alike
- Men are not still the same; 'twas time and griefs
- That fram'd him thus. Time, with his fairer hand,
- Offering the fortunes of his former days,
- The former man may make him. Bring us to him,
- And chance it as it may.
- FLAVIUS. Here is his cave.
- Peace and content be here! Lord Timon! Timon!
- Look out, and speak to friends. Th' Athenians
- By two of their most reverend Senate greet thee.
- Speak to them, noble Timon.
-
- Enter TIMON out of his cave
-
- TIMON. Thou sun that comforts, burn. Speak and be hang'd!
- For each true word a blister, and each false
- Be as a cauterizing to the root o' th' tongue,
- Consuming it with speaking!
- FIRST SENATOR. Worthy Timon-
- TIMON. Of none but such as you, and you of Timon.
- FIRST SENATOR. The senators of Athens greet thee, Timon.
- TIMON. I thank them; and would send them back the plague,
- Could I but catch it for them.
- FIRST SENATOR. O, forget
- What we are sorry for ourselves in thee.
- The senators with one consent of love
- Entreat thee back to Athens, who have thought
- On special dignities, which vacant lie
- For thy best use and wearing.
- SECOND SENATOR. They confess
- Toward thee forgetfulness too general, gross;
- Which now the public body, which doth seldom
- Play the recanter, feeling in itself
- A lack of Timon's aid, hath sense withal
- Of it own fail, restraining aid to Timon,
- And send forth us to make their sorrowed render,
- Together with a recompense more fruitful
- Than their offence can weigh down by the dram;
- Ay, even such heaps and sums of love and wealth
- As shall to thee blot out what wrongs were theirs
- And write in thee the figures of their love,
- Ever to read them thine.
- TIMON. You witch me in it;
- Surprise me to the very brink of tears.
- Lend me a fool's heart and a woman's eyes,
- And I'll beweep these comforts, worthy senators.
- FIRST SENATOR. Therefore so please thee to return with us,
- And of our Athens, thine and ours, to take
- The captainship, thou shalt be met with thanks,
- Allow'd with absolute power, and thy good name
- Live with authority. So soon we shall drive back
- Of Alcibiades th' approaches wild,
- Who, like a boar too savage, doth root up
- His country's peace.
- SECOND SENATOR. And shakes his threat'ning sword
- Against the walls of Athens.
- FIRST SENATOR. Therefore, Timon-
- TIMON. Well, sir, I will. Therefore I will, sir, thus:
- If Alcibiades kill my countrymen,
- Let Alcibiades know this of Timon,
- That Timon cares not. But if he sack fair Athens,
- And take our goodly aged men by th' beards,
- Giving our holy virgins to the stain
- Of contumelious, beastly, mad-brain'd war,
- Then let him know- and tell him Timon speaks it
- In pity of our aged and our youth-
- I cannot choose but tell him that I care not,
- And let him take't at worst; for their knives care not,
- While you have throats to answer. For myself,
- There's not a whittle in th' unruly camp
- But I do prize it at my love before
- The reverend'st throat in Athens. So I leave you
- To the protection of the prosperous gods,
- As thieves to keepers.
- FLAVIUS. Stay not, all's in vain.
- TIMON. Why, I was writing of my epitaph;
- It will be seen to-morrow. My long sickness
- Of health and living now begins to mend,
- And nothing brings me all things. Go, live still;
- Be Alcibiades your plague, you his,
- And last so long enough!
- FIRST SENATOR. We speak in vain.
- TIMON. But yet I love my country, and am not
- One that rejoices in the common wreck,
- As common bruit doth put it.
- FIRST SENATOR. That's well spoke.
- TIMON. Commend me to my loving countrymen-
- FIRST SENATOR. These words become your lips as they pass through
- them.
- SECOND SENATOR. And enter in our ears like great triumphers
- In their applauding gates.
- TIMON. Commend me to them,
- And tell them that, to ease them of their griefs,
- Their fears of hostile strokes, their aches, losses,
- Their pangs of love, with other incident throes
- That nature's fragile vessel doth sustain
- In life's uncertain voyage, I will some kindness do them-
- I'll teach them to prevent wild Alcibiades' wrath.
- FIRST SENATOR. I like this well; he will return again.
- TIMON. I have a tree, which grows here in my close,
- That mine own use invites me to cut down,
- And shortly must I fell it. Tell my friends,
- Tell Athens, in the sequence of degree
- From high to low throughout, that whoso please
- To stop affliction, let him take his haste,
- Come hither, ere my tree hath felt the axe,
- And hang himself. I pray you do my greeting.
- FLAVIUS. Trouble him no further; thus you still shall find him.
- TIMON. Come not to me again; but say to Athens
- Timon hath made his everlasting mansion
- Upon the beached verge of the salt flood,
- Who once a day with his embossed froth
- The turbulent surge shall cover. Thither come,
- And let my gravestone be your oracle.
- Lips, let sour words go by and language end:
- What is amiss, plague and infection mend!
- Graves only be men's works and death their gain!
- Sun, hide thy beams. Timon hath done his reign.
- Exit TIMON into his cave
- FIRST SENATOR. His discontents are unremovably
- Coupled to nature.
- SECOND SENATOR. Our hope in him is dead. Let us return
- And strain what other means is left unto us
- In our dear peril.
- FIRST SENATOR. It requires swift foot. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-Before the walls of Athens
-
-Enter two other SENATORS with a MESSENGER
-
- FIRST SENATOR. Thou hast painfully discover'd; are his files
- As full as thy report?
- MESSENGER. I have spoke the least.
- Besides, his expedition promises
- Present approach.
- SECOND SENATOR. We stand much hazard if they bring not Timon.
- MESSENGER. I met a courier, one mine ancient friend,
- Whom, though in general part we were oppos'd,
- Yet our old love had a particular force,
- And made us speak like friends. This man was riding
- From Alcibiades to Timon's cave
- With letters of entreaty, which imported
- His fellowship i' th' cause against your city,
- In part for his sake mov'd.
-
- Enter the other SENATORS, from TIMON
-
- FIRST SENATOR. Here come our brothers.
- THIRD SENATOR. No talk of Timon, nothing of him expect.
- The enemies' drum is heard, and fearful scouring
- Doth choke the air with dust. In, and prepare.
- Ours is the fall, I fear; our foes the snare. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-The TIMON's cave, and a rude tomb seen
-
-Enter a SOLDIER in the woods, seeking TIMON
-
- SOLDIER. By all description this should be the place.
- Who's here? Speak, ho! No answer? What is this?
- Timon is dead, who hath outstretch'd his span.
- Some beast rear'd this; here does not live a man.
- Dead, sure; and this his grave. What's on this tomb
- I cannot read; the character I'll take with wax.
- Our captain hath in every figure skill,
- An ag'd interpreter, though young in days;
- Before proud Athens he's set down by this,
- Whose fall the mark of his ambition is. Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE IV.
-Before the walls of Athens
-
-Trumpets sound. Enter ALCIBIADES with his powers before Athens
-
- ALCIBIADES. Sound to this coward and lascivious town
- Our terrible approach.
-
- Sound a parley. The SENATORS appear upon the walls
-
- Till now you have gone on and fill'd the time
- With all licentious measure, making your wills
- The scope of justice; till now, myself, and such
- As slept within the shadow of your power,
- Have wander'd with our travers'd arms, and breath'd
- Our sufferance vainly. Now the time is flush,
- When crouching marrow, in the bearer strong,
- Cries of itself 'No more!' Now breathless wrong
- Shall sit and pant in your great chairs of ease,
- And pursy insolence shall break his wind
- With fear and horrid flight.
- FIRST SENATOR. Noble and young,
- When thy first griefs were but a mere conceit,
- Ere thou hadst power or we had cause of fear,
- We sent to thee, to give thy rages balm,
- To wipe out our ingratitude with loves
- Above their quantity.
- SECOND SENATOR. So did we woo
- Transformed Timon to our city's love
- By humble message and by promis'd means.
- We were not all unkind, nor all deserve
- The common stroke of war.
- FIRST SENATOR. These walls of ours
- Were not erected by their hands from whom
- You have receiv'd your griefs; nor are they such
- That these great tow'rs, trophies, and schools, should fall
- For private faults in them.
- SECOND SENATOR. Nor are they living
- Who were the motives that you first went out;
- Shame, that they wanted cunning, in excess
- Hath broke their hearts. March, noble lord,
- Into our city with thy banners spread.
- By decimation and a tithed death-
- If thy revenges hunger for that food
- Which nature loathes- take thou the destin'd tenth,
- And by the hazard of the spotted die
- Let die the spotted.
- FIRST SENATOR. All have not offended;
- For those that were, it is not square to take,
- On those that are, revenge: crimes, like lands,
- Are not inherited. Then, dear countryman,
- Bring in thy ranks, but leave without thy rage;
- Spare thy Athenian cradle, and those kin
- Which, in the bluster of thy wrath, must fall
- With those that have offended. Like a shepherd
- Approach the fold and cull th' infected forth,
- But kill not all together.
- SECOND SENATOR. What thou wilt,
- Thou rather shalt enforce it with thy smile
- Than hew to't with thy sword.
- FIRST SENATOR. Set but thy foot
- Against our rampir'd gates and they shall ope,
- So thou wilt send thy gentle heart before
- To say thou't enter friendly.
- SECOND SENATOR. Throw thy glove,
- Or any token of thine honour else,
- That thou wilt use the wars as thy redress
- And not as our confusion, all thy powers
- Shall make their harbour in our town till we
- Have seal'd thy full desire.
- ALCIBIADES. Then there's my glove;
- Descend, and open your uncharged ports.
- Those enemies of Timon's and mine own,
- Whom you yourselves shall set out for reproof,
- Fall, and no more. And, to atone your fears
- With my more noble meaning, not a man
- Shall pass his quarter or offend the stream
- Of regular justice in your city's bounds,
- But shall be render'd to your public laws
- At heaviest answer.
- BOTH. 'Tis most nobly spoken.
- ALCIBIADES. Descend, and keep your words.
- [The SENATORS descend and open the gates]
-
- Enter a SOLDIER as a Messenger
-
- SOLDIER. My noble General, Timon is dead;
- Entomb'd upon the very hem o' th' sea;
- And on his grave-stone this insculpture, which
- With wax I brought away, whose soft impression
- Interprets for my poor ignorance.
-
- ALCIBIADES reads the Epitaph
-
- 'Here lies a wretched corse, of wretched soul bereft;
- Seek not my name. A plague consume you wicked caitiffs left!
- Here lie I, Timon, who alive all living men did hate.
- Pass by, and curse thy fill; but pass, and stay not here thy
- gait.'
- These well express in thee thy latter spirits.
- Though thou abhorr'dst in us our human griefs,
- Scorn'dst our brain's flow, and those our droplets which
- From niggard nature fall, yet rich conceit
- Taught thee to make vast Neptune weep for aye
- On thy low grave, on faults forgiven. Dead
- Is noble Timon, of whose memory
- Hereafter more. Bring me into your city,
- And I will use the olive, with my sword;
- Make war breed peace, make peace stint war, make each
- Prescribe to other, as each other's leech.
- Let our drums strike. Exeunt
-
-THE END
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-
-
-1594
-
-THE TRAGEDY OF TITUS ANDRONICUS
-
-by William Shakespeare
-
-
-
-Dramatis Personae
-
- SATURNINUS, son to the late Emperor of Rome, afterwards Emperor
- BASSIANUS, brother to Saturninus
- TITUS ANDRONICUS, a noble Roman
- MARCUS ANDRONICUS, Tribune of the People, and brother to Titus
-
- Sons to Titus Andronicus:
- LUCIUS
- QUINTUS
- MARTIUS
- MUTIUS
-
- YOUNG LUCIUS, a boy, son to Lucius
- PUBLIUS, son to Marcus Andronicus
-
- Kinsmen to Titus:
- SEMPRONIUS
- CAIUS
- VALENTINE
-
- AEMILIUS, a noble Roman
-
- Sons to Tamora:
- ALARBUS
- DEMETRIUS
- CHIRON
-
- AARON, a Moor, beloved by Tamora
- A CAPTAIN
- A MESSENGER
- A CLOWN
-
- TAMORA, Queen of the Goths
- LAVINIA, daughter to Titus Andronicus
- A NURSE, and a black CHILD
-
- Romans and Goths, Senators, Tribunes, Officers, Soldiers, and
- Attendants
-
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
- SCENE:
- Rome and the neighbourhood
-
-
-ACT 1. SCENE I.
-Rome. Before the Capitol
-
-Flourish. Enter the TRIBUNES and SENATORS aloft; and then enter below
-SATURNINUS and his followers at one door, and BASSIANUS and his followers
-at the other, with drums and trumpets
-
- SATURNINUS. Noble patricians, patrons of my right,
- Defend the justice of my cause with arms;
- And, countrymen, my loving followers,
- Plead my successive title with your swords.
- I am his first born son that was the last
- That ware the imperial diadem of Rome;
- Then let my father's honours live in me,
- Nor wrong mine age with this indignity.
- BASSIANUS. Romans, friends, followers, favourers of my right,
- If ever Bassianus, Caesar's son,
- Were gracious in the eyes of royal Rome,
- Keep then this passage to the Capitol;
- And suffer not dishonour to approach
- The imperial seat, to virtue consecrate,
- To justice, continence, and nobility;
- But let desert in pure election shine;
- And, Romans, fight for freedom in your choice.
-
- Enter MARCUS ANDRONICUS aloft, with the crown
-
- MARCUS. Princes, that strive by factions and by friends
- Ambitiously for rule and empery,
- Know that the people of Rome, for whom we stand
- A special party, have by common voice
- In election for the Roman empery
- Chosen Andronicus, surnamed Pius
- For many good and great deserts to Rome.
- A nobler man, a braver warrior,
- Lives not this day within the city walls.
- He by the Senate is accited home,
- From weary wars against the barbarous Goths,
- That with his sons, a terror to our foes,
- Hath yok'd a nation strong, train'd up in arms.
- Ten years are spent since first he undertook
- This cause of Rome, and chastised with arms
- Our enemies' pride; five times he hath return'd
- Bleeding to Rome, bearing his valiant sons
- In coffins from the field; and at this day
- To the monument of that Andronici
- Done sacrifice of expiation,
- And slain the noblest prisoner of the Goths.
- And now at last, laden with honour's spoils,
- Returns the good Andronicus to Rome,
- Renowned Titus, flourishing in arms.
- Let us entreat, by honour of his name
- Whom worthily you would have now succeed,
- And in the Capitol and Senate's right,
- Whom you pretend to honour and adore,
- That you withdraw you and abate your strength,
- Dismiss your followers, and, as suitors should,
- Plead your deserts in peace and humbleness.
- SATURNINUS. How fair the Tribune speaks to calm my thoughts.
- BASSIANUS. Marcus Andronicus, so I do affy
- In thy uprightness and integrity,
- And so I love and honour thee and thine,
- Thy noble brother Titus and his sons,
- And her to whom my thoughts are humbled all,
- Gracious Lavinia, Rome's rich ornament,
- That I will here dismiss my loving friends,
- And to my fortunes and the people's favour
- Commit my cause in balance to be weigh'd.
- Exeunt the soldiers of BASSIANUS
- SATURNINUS. Friends, that have been thus forward in my right,
- I thank you all and here dismiss you all,
- And to the love and favour of my country
- Commit myself, my person, and the cause.
- Exeunt the soldiers of SATURNINUS
- Rome, be as just and gracious unto me
- As I am confident and kind to thee.
- Open the gates and let me in.
- BASSIANUS. Tribunes, and me, a poor competitor.
- [Flourish. They go up into the Senate House]
-
- Enter a CAPTAIN
-
- CAPTAIN. Romans, make way. The good Andronicus,
- Patron of virtue, Rome's best champion,
- Successful in the battles that he fights,
- With honour and with fortune is return'd
- From where he circumscribed with his sword
- And brought to yoke the enemies of Rome.
-
- Sound drums and trumpets, and then enter MARTIUS
- and MUTIUS, two of TITUS' sons; and then two men
- bearing a coffin covered with black; then LUCIUS
- and QUINTUS, two other sons; then TITUS ANDRONICUS;
- and then TAMORA the Queen of Goths, with her three
- sons, ALARBUS, DEMETRIUS, and CHIRON, with AARON the
- Moor, and others, as many as can be. Then set down
- the coffin and TITUS speaks
-
- TITUS. Hail, Rome, victorious in thy mourning weeds!
- Lo, as the bark that hath discharg'd her fraught
- Returns with precious lading to the bay
- From whence at first she weigh'd her anchorage,
- Cometh Andronicus, bound with laurel boughs,
- To re-salute his country with his tears,
- Tears of true joy for his return to Rome.
- Thou great defender of this Capitol,
- Stand gracious to the rites that we intend!
- Romans, of five and twenty valiant sons,
- Half of the number that King Priam had,
- Behold the poor remains, alive and dead!
- These that survive let Rome reward with love;
- These that I bring unto their latest home,
- With burial amongst their ancestors.
- Here Goths have given me leave to sheathe my sword.
- Titus, unkind, and careless of thine own,
- Why suffer'st thou thy sons, unburied yet,
- To hover on the dreadful shore of Styx?
- Make way to lay them by their brethren.
- [They open the tomb]
- There greet in silence, as the dead are wont,
- And sleep in peace, slain in your country's wars.
- O sacred receptacle of my joys,
- Sweet cell of virtue and nobility,
- How many sons hast thou of mine in store
- That thou wilt never render to me more!
- LUCIUS. Give us the proudest prisoner of the Goths,
- That we may hew his limbs, and on a pile
- Ad manes fratrum sacrifice his flesh
- Before this earthy prison of their bones,
- That so the shadows be not unappeas'd,
- Nor we disturb'd with prodigies on earth.
- TITUS. I give him you- the noblest that survives,
- The eldest son of this distressed queen.
- TAMORA. Stay, Roman brethen! Gracious conqueror,
- Victorious Titus, rue the tears I shed,
- A mother's tears in passion for her son;
- And if thy sons were ever dear to thee,
- O, think my son to be as dear to me!
- Sufficeth not that we are brought to Rome
- To beautify thy triumphs, and return
- Captive to thee and to thy Roman yoke;
- But must my sons be slaughtered in the streets
- For valiant doings in their country's cause?
- O, if to fight for king and commonweal
- Were piety in thine, it is in these.
- Andronicus, stain not thy tomb with blood.
- Wilt thou draw near the nature of the gods?
- Draw near them then in being merciful.
- Sweet mercy is nobility's true badge.
- Thrice-noble Titus, spare my first-born son.
- TITUS. Patient yourself, madam, and pardon me.
- These are their brethren, whom your Goths beheld
- Alive and dead; and for their brethren slain
- Religiously they ask a sacrifice.
- To this your son is mark'd, and die he must
- T' appease their groaning shadows that are gone.
- LUCIUS. Away with him, and make a fire straight;
- And with our swords, upon a pile of wood,
- Let's hew his limbs till they be clean consum'd.
- Exeunt TITUS' SONS, with ALARBUS
- TAMORA. O cruel, irreligious piety!
- CHIRON. Was never Scythia half so barbarous!
- DEMETRIUS. Oppose not Scythia to ambitious Rome.
- Alarbus goes to rest, and we survive
- To tremble under Titus' threat'ning look.
- Then, madam, stand resolv'd, but hope withal
- The self-same gods that arm'd the Queen of Troy
- With opportunity of sharp revenge
- Upon the Thracian tyrant in his tent
- May favour Tamora, the Queen of Goths-
- When Goths were Goths and Tamora was queen-
- To quit the bloody wrongs upon her foes.
-
- Re-enter LUCIUS, QUINTUS, MARTIUS, and
- MUTIUS, the sons of ANDRONICUS, with their swords bloody
-
- LUCIUS. See, lord and father, how we have perform'd
- Our Roman rites: Alarbus' limbs are lopp'd,
- And entrails feed the sacrificing fire,
- Whose smoke like incense doth perfume the sky.
- Remaineth nought but to inter our brethren,
- And with loud 'larums welcome them to Rome.
- TITUS. Let it be so, and let Andronicus
- Make this his latest farewell to their souls.
- [Sound trumpets and lay the coffin in the tomb]
- In peace and honour rest you here, my sons;
- Rome's readiest champions, repose you here in rest,
- Secure from worldly chances and mishaps!
- Here lurks no treason, here no envy swells,
- Here grow no damned drugs, here are no storms,
- No noise, but silence and eternal sleep.
- In peace and honour rest you here, my sons!
-
- Enter LAVINIA
-
- LAVINIA. In peace and honour live Lord Titus long;
- My noble lord and father, live in fame!
- Lo, at this tomb my tributary tears
- I render for my brethren's obsequies;
- And at thy feet I kneel, with tears of joy
- Shed on this earth for thy return to Rome.
- O, bless me here with thy victorious hand,
- Whose fortunes Rome's best citizens applaud!
- TITUS. Kind Rome, that hast thus lovingly reserv'd
- The cordial of mine age to glad my heart!
- Lavinia, live; outlive thy father's days,
- And fame's eternal date, for virtue's praise!
-
- Enter, above, MARCUS ANDRONICUS and TRIBUNES;
- re-enter SATURNINUS, BASSIANUS, and attendants
-
- MARCUS. Long live Lord Titus, my beloved brother,
- Gracious triumpher in the eyes of Rome!
- TITUS. Thanks, gentle Tribune, noble brother Marcus.
- MARCUS. And welcome, nephews, from successful wars,
- You that survive and you that sleep in fame.
- Fair lords, your fortunes are alike in all
- That in your country's service drew your swords;
- But safer triumph is this funeral pomp
- That hath aspir'd to Solon's happiness
- And triumphs over chance in honour's bed.
- Titus Andronicus, the people of Rome,
- Whose friend in justice thou hast ever been,
- Send thee by me, their Tribune and their trust,
- This par]iament of white and spotless hue;
- And name thee in election for the empire
- With these our late-deceased Emperor's sons:
- Be candidatus then, and put it on,
- And help to set a head on headless Rome.
- TITUS. A better head her glorious body fits
- Than his that shakes for age and feebleness.
- What should I don this robe and trouble you?
- Be chosen with proclamations to-day,
- To-morrow yield up rule, resign my life,
- And set abroad new business for you all?
- Rome, I have been thy soldier forty years,
- And led my country's strength successfully,
- And buried one and twenty valiant sons,
- Knighted in field, slain manfully in arms,
- In right and service of their noble country.
- Give me a staff of honour for mine age,
- But not a sceptre to control the world.
- Upright he held it, lords, that held it last.
- MARCUS. Titus, thou shalt obtain and ask the empery.
- SATURNINUS. Proud and ambitious Tribune, canst thou tell?
- TITUS. Patience, Prince Saturninus.
- SATURNINUS. Romans, do me right.
- Patricians, draw your swords, and sheathe them not
- Till Saturninus be Rome's Emperor.
- Andronicus, would thou were shipp'd to hell
- Rather than rob me of the people's hearts!
- LUCIUS. Proud Saturnine, interrupter of the good
- That noble-minded Titus means to thee!
- TITUS. Content thee, Prince; I will restore to thee
- The people's hearts, and wean them from themselves.
- BASSIANUS. Andronicus, I do not flatter thee,
- But honour thee, and will do till I die.
- My faction if thou strengthen with thy friends,
- I will most thankful be; and thanks to men
- Of noble minds is honourable meed.
- TITUS. People of Rome, and people's Tribunes here,
- I ask your voices and your suffrages:
- Will ye bestow them friendly on Andronicus?
- TRIBUNES. To gratify the good Andronicus,
- And gratulate his safe return to Rome,
- The people will accept whom he admits.
- TITUS. Tribunes, I thank you; and this suit I make,
- That you create our Emperor's eldest son,
- Lord Saturnine; whose virtues will, I hope,
- Reflect on Rome as Titan's rays on earth,
- And ripen justice in this commonweal.
- Then, if you will elect by my advice,
- Crown him, and say 'Long live our Emperor!'
- MARCUS. With voices and applause of every sort,
- Patricians and plebeians, we create
- Lord Saturninus Rome's great Emperor;
- And say 'Long live our Emperor Saturnine!'
- [A long flourish till they come down]
- SATURNINUS. Titus Andronicus, for thy favours done
- To us in our election this day
- I give thee thanks in part of thy deserts,
- And will with deeds requite thy gentleness;
- And for an onset, Titus, to advance
- Thy name and honourable family,
- Lavinia will I make my emperess,
- Rome's royal mistress, mistress of my heart,
- And in the sacred Pantheon her espouse.
- Tell me, Andronicus, doth this motion please thee?
- TITUS. It doth, my worthy lord, and in this match
- I hold me highly honoured of your Grace,
- And here in sight of Rome, to Saturnine,
- King and commander of our commonweal,
- The wide world's Emperor, do I consecrate
- My sword, my chariot, and my prisoners,
- Presents well worthy Rome's imperious lord;
- Receive them then, the tribute that I owe,
- Mine honour's ensigns humbled at thy feet.
- SATURNINUS. Thanks, noble Titus, father of my life.
- How proud I am of thee and of thy gifts
- Rome shall record; and when I do forget
- The least of these unspeakable deserts,
- Romans, forget your fealty to me.
- TITUS. [To TAMORA] Now, madam, are you prisoner to an emperor;
- To him that for your honour and your state
- Will use you nobly and your followers.
- SATURNINUS. [Aside] A goodly lady, trust me; of the hue
- That I would choose, were I to choose anew.-
- Clear up, fair Queen, that cloudy countenance;
- Though chance of war hath wrought this change of cheer,
- Thou com'st not to be made a scorn in Rome-
- Princely shall be thy usage every way.
- Rest on my word, and let not discontent
- Daunt all your hopes. Madam, he comforts you
- Can make you greater than the Queen of Goths.
- Lavinia, you are not displeas'd with this?
- LAVINIA. Not I, my lord, sith true nobility
- Warrants these words in princely courtesy.
- SATURNINUS. Thanks, sweet Lavinia. Romans, let us go.
- Ransomless here we set our prisoners free.
- Proclaim our honours, lords, with trump and drum.
- [Flourish]
- BASSIANUS. Lord Titus, by your leave, this maid is mine.
- [Seizing LAVINIA]
- TITUS. How, sir! Are you in earnest then, my lord?
- BASSIANUS. Ay, noble Titus, and resolv'd withal
- To do myself this reason and this right.
- MARCUS. Suum cuique is our Roman justice:
- This prince in justice seizeth but his own.
- LUCIUS. And that he will and shall, if Lucius live.
- TITUS. Traitors, avaunt! Where is the Emperor's guard?
- Treason, my lord- Lavinia is surpris'd!
- SATURNINUS. Surpris'd! By whom?
- BASSIANUS. By him that justly may
- Bear his betroth'd from all the world away.
- Exeunt BASSIANUS and MARCUS with LAVINIA
- MUTIUS. Brothers, help to convey her hence away,
- And with my sword I'll keep this door safe.
- Exeunt LUCIUS, QUINTUS, and MARTIUS
- TITUS. Follow, my lord, and I'll soon bring her back.
- MUTIUS. My lord, you pass not here.
- TITUS. What, villain boy!
- Bar'st me my way in Rome?
- MUTIUS. Help, Lucius, help!
- TITUS kills him. During the fray, exeunt SATURNINUS,
- TAMORA, DEMETRIUS, CHIRON, and AARON
-
- Re-enter Lucius
-
- LUCIUS. My lord, you are unjust, and more than so:
- In wrongful quarrel you have slain your son.
- TITUS. Nor thou nor he are any sons of mine;
- My sons would never so dishonour me.
-
- Re-enter aloft the EMPEROR
- with TAMORA and her two Sons, and AARON the Moor
-
- Traitor, restore Lavinia to the Emperor.
- LUCIUS. Dead, if you will; but not to be his wife,
- That is another's lawful promis'd love. Exit
- SATURNINUS. No, Titus, no; the Emperor needs her not,
- Nor her, nor thee, nor any of thy stock.
- I'll trust by leisure him that mocks me once;
- Thee never, nor thy traitorous haughty sons,
- Confederates all thus to dishonour me.
- Was there none else in Rome to make a stale
- But Saturnine? Full well, Andronicus,
- Agree these deeds with that proud brag of thine
- That saidst I begg'd the empire at thy hands.
- TITUS. O monstrous! What reproachful words are these?
- SATURNINUS. But go thy ways; go, give that changing piece
- To him that flourish'd for her with his sword.
- A valiant son-in-law thou shalt enjoy;
- One fit to bandy with thy lawless sons,
- To ruffle in the commonwealth of Rome.
- TITUS. These words are razors to my wounded heart.
- SATURNINUS. And therefore, lovely Tamora, Queen of Goths,
- That, like the stately Phoebe 'mongst her nymphs,
- Dost overshine the gallant'st dames of Rome,
- If thou be pleas'd with this my sudden choice,
- Behold, I choose thee, Tamora, for my bride
- And will create thee Emperess of Rome.
- Speak, Queen of Goths, dost thou applaud my choice?
- And here I swear by all the Roman gods-
- Sith priest and holy water are so near,
- And tapers burn so bright, and everything
- In readiness for Hymenaeus stand-
- I will not re-salute the streets of Rome,
- Or climb my palace, till from forth this place
- I lead espous'd my bride along with me.
- TAMORA. And here in sight of heaven to Rome I swear,
- If Saturnine advance the Queen of Goths,
- She will a handmaid be to his desires,
- A loving nurse, a mother to his youth.
- SATURNINUS. Ascend, fair Queen, Pantheon. Lords, accompany
- Your noble Emperor and his lovely bride,
- Sent by the heavens for Prince Saturnine,
- Whose wisdom hath her fortune conquered;
- There shall we consummate our spousal rites.
- Exeunt all but TITUS
- TITUS. I am not bid to wait upon this bride.
- TITUS, when wert thou wont to walk alone,
- Dishonoured thus, and challenged of wrongs?
-
- Re-enter MARCUS,
- and TITUS' SONS, LUCIUS, QUINTUS, and MARTIUS
-
- MARCUS. O Titus, see, O, see what thou hast done!
- In a bad quarrel slain a virtuous son.
- TITUS. No, foolish Tribune, no; no son of mine-
- Nor thou, nor these, confederates in the deed
- That hath dishonoured all our family;
- Unworthy brother and unworthy sons!
- LUCIUS. But let us give him burial, as becomes;
- Give Mutius burial with our bretheren.
- TITUS. Traitors, away! He rests not in this tomb.
- This monument five hundred years hath stood,
- Which I have sumptuously re-edified;
- Here none but soldiers and Rome's servitors
- Repose in fame; none basely slain in brawls.
- Bury him where you can, he comes not here.
- MARCUS. My lord, this is impiety in you.
- My nephew Mutius' deeds do plead for him;
- He must be buried with his bretheren.
- QUINTUS & MARTIUS. And shall, or him we will accompany.
- TITUS. 'And shall!' What villain was it spake that word?
- QUINTUS. He that would vouch it in any place but here.
- TITUS. What, would you bury him in my despite?
- MARCUS. No, noble Titus, but entreat of thee
- To pardon Mutius and to bury him.
- TITUS. Marcus, even thou hast struck upon my crest,
- And with these boys mine honour thou hast wounded.
- My foes I do repute you every one;
- So trouble me no more, but get you gone.
- MARTIUS. He is not with himself; let us withdraw.
- QUINTUS. Not I, till Mutius' bones be buried.
- [The BROTHER and the SONS kneel]
- MARCUS. Brother, for in that name doth nature plead-
- QUINTUS. Father, and in that name doth nature speak-
- TITUS. Speak thou no more, if all the rest will speed.
- MARCUS. Renowned Titus, more than half my soul-
- LUCIUS. Dear father, soul and substance of us all-
- MARCUS. Suffer thy brother Marcus to inter
- His noble nephew here in virtue's nest,
- That died in honour and Lavinia's cause.
- Thou art a Roman- be not barbarous.
- The Greeks upon advice did bury Ajax,
- That slew himself; and wise Laertes' son
- Did graciously plead for his funerals.
- Let not young Mutius, then, that was thy joy,
- Be barr'd his entrance here.
- TITUS. Rise, Marcus, rise;
- The dismal'st day is this that e'er I saw,
- To be dishonoured by my sons in Rome!
- Well, bury him, and bury me the next.
- [They put MUTIUS in the tomb]
- LUCIUS. There lie thy bones, sweet Mutius, with thy friends,
- Till we with trophies do adorn thy tomb.
- ALL. [Kneeling] No man shed tears for noble Mutius;
- He lives in fame that died in virtue's cause.
- MARCUS. My lord- to step out of these dreary dumps-
- How comes it that the subtle Queen of Goths
- Is of a sudden thus advanc'd in Rome?
- TITUS. I know not, Marcus, but I know it is-
- Whether by device or no, the heavens can tell.
- Is she not, then, beholding to the man
- That brought her for this high good turn so far?
- MARCUS. Yes, and will nobly him remunerate.
-
- Flourish. Re-enter the EMPEROR, TAMORA
- and her two SONS, with the MOOR, at one door;
- at the other door, BASSIANUS and LAVINIA, with others
-
- SATURNINUS. So, Bassianus, you have play'd your prize:
- God give you joy, sir, of your gallant bride!
- BASSIANUS. And you of yours, my lord! I say no more,
- Nor wish no less; and so I take my leave.
- SATURNINUS. Traitor, if Rome have law or we have power,
- Thou and thy faction shall repent this rape.
- BASSIANUS. Rape, call you it, my lord, to seize my own,
- My true betrothed love, and now my wife?
- But let the laws of Rome determine all;
- Meanwhile am I possess'd of that is mine.
- SATURNINUS. 'Tis good, sir. You are very short with us;
- But if we live we'll be as sharp with you.
- BASSIANUS. My lord, what I have done, as best I may,
- Answer I must, and shall do with my life.
- Only thus much I give your Grace to know:
- By all the duties that I owe to Rome,
- This noble gentleman, Lord Titus here,
- Is in opinion and in honour wrong'd,
- That, in the rescue of Lavinia,
- With his own hand did slay his youngest son,
- In zeal to you, and highly mov'd to wrath
- To be controll'd in that he frankly gave.
- Receive him then to favour, Saturnine,
- That hath express'd himself in all his deeds
- A father and a friend to thee and Rome.
- TITUS. Prince Bassianus, leave to plead my deeds.
- 'Tis thou and those that have dishonoured me.
- Rome and the righteous heavens be my judge
- How I have lov'd and honoured Saturnine!
- TAMORA. My worthy lord, if ever Tamora
- Were gracious in those princely eyes of thine,
- Then hear me speak indifferently for all;
- And at my suit, sweet, pardon what is past.
- SATURNINUS. What, madam! be dishonoured openly,
- And basely put it up without revenge?
- TAMORA. Not so, my lord; the gods of Rome forfend
- I should be author to dishonour you!
- But on mine honour dare I undertake
- For good Lord Titus' innocence in all,
- Whose fury not dissembled speaks his griefs.
- Then at my suit look graciously on him;
- Lose not so noble a friend on vain suppose,
- Nor with sour looks afflict his gentle heart.
- [Aside to SATURNINUS] My lord, be rul'd by me,
- be won at last;
- Dissemble all your griefs and discontents.
- You are but newly planted in your throne;
- Lest, then, the people, and patricians too,
- Upon a just survey take Titus' part,
- And so supplant you for ingratitude,
- Which Rome reputes to be a heinous sin,
- Yield at entreats, and then let me alone:
- I'll find a day to massacre them all,
- And raze their faction and their family,
- The cruel father and his traitorous sons,
- To whom I sued for my dear son's life;
- And make them know what 'tis to let a queen
- Kneel in the streets and beg for grace in vain.-
- Come, come, sweet Emperor; come, Andronicus.
- Take up this good old man, and cheer the heart
- That dies in tempest of thy angry frown.
- SATURNINUS. Rise, Titus, rise; my Empress hath prevail'd.
- TITUS. I thank your Majesty and her, my lord;
- These words, these looks, infuse new life in me.
- TAMORA. Titus, I am incorporate in Rome,
- A Roman now adopted happily,
- And must advise the Emperor for his good.
- This day all quarrels die, Andronicus;
- And let it be mine honour, good my lord,
- That I have reconcil'd your friends and you.
- For you, Prince Bassianus, I have pass'd
- My word and promise to the Emperor
- That you will be more mild and tractable.
- And fear not, lords- and you, Lavinia.
- By my advice, all humbled on your knees,
- You shall ask pardon of his Majesty.
- LUCIUS. We do, and vow to heaven and to his Highness
- That what we did was mildly as we might,
- Tend'ring our sister's honour and our own.
- MARCUS. That on mine honour here do I protest.
- SATURNINUS. Away, and talk not; trouble us no more.
- TAMORA. Nay, nay, sweet Emperor, we must all be friends.
- The Tribune and his nephews kneel for grace.
- I will not be denied. Sweet heart, look back.
- SATURNINUS. Marcus, for thy sake, and thy brother's here,
- And at my lovely Tamora's entreats,
- I do remit these young men's heinous faults.
- Stand up.
- Lavinia, though you left me like a churl,
- I found a friend; and sure as death I swore
- I would not part a bachelor from the priest.
- Come, if the Emperor's court can feast two brides,
- You are my guest, Lavinia, and your friends.
- This day shall be a love-day, Tamora.
- TITUS. To-morrow, and it please your Majesty
- To hunt the panther and the hart with me,
- With horn and hound we'll give your Grace bonjour.
- SATURNINUS. Be it so, Titus, and gramercy too.
- Exeunt. Sound trumpets
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT II. SCENE I.
-Rome. Before the palace
-
-Enter AARON
-
- AARON. Now climbeth Tamora Olympus' top,
- Safe out of Fortune's shot, and sits aloft,
- Secure of thunder's crack or lightning flash,
- Advanc'd above pale envy's threat'ning reach.
- As when the golden sun salutes the morn,
- And, having gilt the ocean with his beams,
- Gallops the zodiac in his glistening coach
- And overlooks the highest-peering hills,
- So Tamora.
- Upon her wit doth earthly honour wait,
- And virtue stoops and trembles at her frown.
- Then, Aaron, arm thy heart and fit thy thoughts
- To mount aloft with thy imperial mistress,
- And mount her pitch whom thou in triumph long.
- Hast prisoner held, fett'red in amorous chains,
- And faster bound to Aaron's charming eyes
- Than is Prometheus tied to Caucasus.
- Away with slavish weeds and servile thoughts!
- I will be bright and shine in pearl and gold,
- To wait upon this new-made emperess.
- To wait, said I? To wanton with this queen,
- This goddess, this Semiramis, this nymph,
- This siren that will charm Rome's Saturnine,
- And see his shipwreck and his commonweal's.
- Hullo! what storm is this?
-
- Enter CHIRON and DEMETRIUS, braving
-
- DEMETRIUS. Chiron, thy years wants wit, thy wits wants edge
- And manners, to intrude where I am grac'd,
- And may, for aught thou knowest, affected be.
- CHIRON. Demetrius, thou dost over-ween in all;
- And so in this, to bear me down with braves.
- 'Tis not the difference of a year or two
- Makes me less gracious or thee more fortunate:
- I am as able and as fit as thou
- To serve and to deserve my mistress' grace;
- And that my sword upon thee shall approve,
- And plead my passions for Lavinia's love.
- AARON. [Aside] Clubs, clubs! These lovers will not keep the
- peace.
- DEMETRIUS. Why, boy, although our mother, unadvis'd,
- Gave you a dancing rapier by your side,
- Are you so desperate grown to threat your friends?
- Go to; have your lath glued within your sheath
- Till you know better how to handle it.
- CHIRON. Meanwhile, sir, with the little skill I have,
- Full well shalt thou perceive how much I dare.
- DEMETRIUS. Ay, boy, grow ye so brave? [They draw]
- AARON. [Coming forward] Why, how now, lords!
- So near the Emperor's palace dare ye draw
- And maintain such a quarrel openly?
- Full well I wot the ground of all this grudge:
- I would not for a million of gold
- The cause were known to them it most concerns;
- Nor would your noble mother for much more
- Be so dishonoured in the court of Rome.
- For shame, put up.
- DEMETRIUS. Not I, till I have sheath'd
- My rapier in his bosom, and withal
- Thrust those reproachful speeches down his throat
- That he hath breath'd in my dishonour here.
- CHIRON. For that I am prepar'd and full resolv'd,
- Foul-spoken coward, that thund'rest with thy tongue,
- And with thy weapon nothing dar'st perform.
- AARON. Away, I say!
- Now, by the gods that warlike Goths adore,
- This pretty brabble will undo us all.
- Why, lords, and think you not how dangerous
- It is to jet upon a prince's right?
- What, is Lavinia then become so loose,
- Or Bassianus so degenerate,
- That for her love such quarrels may be broach'd
- Without controlment, justice, or revenge?
- Young lords, beware; an should the Empress know
- This discord's ground, the music would not please.
- CHIRON. I care not, I, knew she and all the world:
- I love Lavinia more than all the world.
- DEMETRIUS. Youngling, learn thou to make some meaner choice:
- Lavina is thine elder brother's hope.
- AARON. Why, are ye mad, or know ye not in Rome
- How furious and impatient they be,
- And cannot brook competitors in love?
- I tell you, lords, you do but plot your deaths
- By this device.
- CHIRON. Aaron, a thousand deaths
- Would I propose to achieve her whom I love.
- AARON. To achieve her- how?
- DEMETRIUS. Why mak'st thou it so strange?
- She is a woman, therefore may be woo'd;
- She is a woman, therefore may be won;
- She is Lavinia, therefore must be lov'd.
- What, man! more water glideth by the mill
- Than wots the miller of; and easy it is
- Of a cut loaf to steal a shive, we know.
- Though Bassianus be the Emperor's brother,
- Better than he have worn Vulcan's badge.
- AARON. [Aside] Ay, and as good as Saturninus may.
- DEMETRIUS. Then why should he despair that knows to court it
- With words, fair looks, and liberality?
- What, hast not thou full often struck a doe,
- And borne her cleanly by the keeper's nose?
- AARON. Why, then, it seems some certain snatch or so
- Would serve your turns.
- CHIRON. Ay, so the turn were served.
- DEMETRIUS. Aaron, thou hast hit it.
- AARON. Would you had hit it too!
- Then should not we be tir'd with this ado.
- Why, hark ye, hark ye! and are you such fools
- To square for this? Would it offend you, then,
- That both should speed?
- CHIRON. Faith, not me.
- DEMETRIUS. Nor me, so I were one.
- AARON. For shame, be friends, and join for that you jar.
- 'Tis policy and stratagem must do
- That you affect; and so must you resolve
- That what you cannot as you would achieve,
- You must perforce accomplish as you may.
- Take this of me: Lucrece was not more chaste
- Than this Lavinia, Bassianus' love.
- A speedier course than ling'ring languishment
- Must we pursue, and I have found the path.
- My lords, a solemn hunting is in hand;
- There will the lovely Roman ladies troop;
- The forest walks are wide and spacious,
- And many unfrequented plots there are
- Fitted by kind for rape and villainy.
- Single you thither then this dainty doe,
- And strike her home by force if not by words.
- This way, or not at all, stand you in hope.
- Come, come, our Empress, with her sacred wit
- To villainy and vengeance consecrate,
- Will we acquaint with all what we intend;
- And she shall file our engines with advice
- That will not suffer you to square yourselves,
- But to your wishes' height advance you both.
- The Emperor's court is like the house of Fame,
- The palace full of tongues, of eyes, and ears;
- The woods are ruthless, dreadful, deaf, and dull.
- There speak and strike, brave boys, and take your turns;
- There serve your lust, shadowed from heaven's eye,
- And revel in Lavinia's treasury.
- CHIRON. Thy counsel, lad, smells of no cowardice.
- DEMETRIUS. Sit fas aut nefas, till I find the stream
- To cool this heat, a charm to calm these fits,
- Per Styga, per manes vehor. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-A forest near Rome
-
-Enter TITUS ANDRONICUS, and his three sons, LUCIUS, QUINTUS, MARTIUS,
-making a noise with hounds and horns; and MARCUS
-
- TITUS. The hunt is up, the morn is bright and grey,
- The fields are fragrant, and the woods are green.
- Uncouple here, and let us make a bay,
- And wake the Emperor and his lovely bride,
- And rouse the Prince, and ring a hunter's peal,
- That all the court may echo with the noise.
- Sons, let it be your charge, as it is ours,
- To attend the Emperor's person carefully.
- I have been troubled in my sleep this night,
- But dawning day new comfort hath inspir'd.
-
- Here a cry of hounds, and wind horns in a peal.
- Then enter SATURNINUS, TAMORA, BASSIANUS LAVINIA,
- CHIRON, DEMETRIUS, and their attendants
- Many good morrows to your Majesty!
- Madam, to you as many and as good!
- I promised your Grace a hunter's peal.
- SATURNINUS. And you have rung it lustily, my lords-
- Somewhat too early for new-married ladies.
- BASSIANUS. Lavinia, how say you?
- LAVINIA. I say no;
- I have been broad awake two hours and more.
- SATURNINUS. Come on then, horse and chariots let us have,
- And to our sport. [To TAMORA] Madam, now shall ye see
- Our Roman hunting.
- MARCUS. I have dogs, my lord,
- Will rouse the proudest panther in the chase,
- And climb the highest promontory top.
- TITUS. And I have horse will follow where the game
- Makes way, and run like swallows o'er the plain.
- DEMETRIUS. Chiron, we hunt not, we, with horse nor hound,
- But hope to pluck a dainty doe to ground. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-A lonely part of the forest
-
-Enter AARON alone, with a bag of gold
-
- AARON. He that had wit would think that I had none,
- To bury so much gold under a tree
- And never after to inherit it.
- Let him that thinks of me so abjectly
- Know that this gold must coin a stratagem,
- Which, cunningly effected, will beget
- A very excellent piece of villainy.
- And so repose, sweet gold, for their unrest
- [Hides the gold]
- That have their alms out of the Empress' chest.
-
- Enter TAMORA alone, to the Moor
-
- TAMORA. My lovely Aaron, wherefore look'st thou sad
- When everything does make a gleeful boast?
- The birds chant melody on every bush;
- The snakes lie rolled in the cheerful sun;
- The green leaves quiver with the cooling wind
- And make a chequer'd shadow on the ground;
- Under their sweet shade, Aaron, let us sit,
- And while the babbling echo mocks the hounds,
- Replying shrilly to the well-tun'd horns,
- As if a double hunt were heard at once,
- Let us sit down and mark their yellowing noise;
- And- after conflict such as was suppos'd
- The wand'ring prince and Dido once enjoyed,
- When with a happy storm they were surpris'd,
- And curtain'd with a counsel-keeping cave-
- We may, each wreathed in the other's arms,
- Our pastimes done, possess a golden slumber,
- Whiles hounds and horns and sweet melodious birds
- Be unto us as is a nurse's song
- Of lullaby to bring her babe asleep.
- AARON. Madam, though Venus govern your desires,
- Saturn is dominator over mine.
- What signifies my deadly-standing eye,
- My silence and my cloudy melancholy,
- My fleece of woolly hair that now uncurls
- Even as an adder when she doth unroll
- To do some fatal execution?
- No, madam, these are no venereal signs.
- Vengeance is in my heart, death in my hand,
- Blood and revenge are hammering in my head.
- Hark, Tamora, the empress of my soul,
- Which never hopes more heaven than rests in thee-
- This is the day of doom for Bassianus;
- His Philomel must lose her tongue to-day,
- Thy sons make pillage of her chastity,
- And wash their hands in Bassianus' blood.
- Seest thou this letter? Take it up, I pray thee,
- And give the King this fatal-plotted scroll.
- Now question me no more; we are espied.
- Here comes a parcel of our hopeful booty,
- Which dreads not yet their lives' destruction.
-
- Enter BASSIANUS and LAVINIA
-
- TAMORA. Ah, my sweet Moor, sweeter to me than life!
- AARON. No more, great Empress: Bassianus comes.
- Be cross with him; and I'll go fetch thy sons
- To back thy quarrels, whatsoe'er they be. Exit
- BASSIANUS. Who have we here? Rome's royal Emperess,
- Unfurnish'd of her well-beseeming troop?
- Or is it Dian, habited like her,
- Who hath abandoned her holy groves
- To see the general hunting in this forest?
- TAMORA. Saucy controller of my private steps!
- Had I the pow'r that some say Dian had,
- Thy temples should be planted presently
- With horns, as was Actaeon's; and the hounds
- Should drive upon thy new-transformed limbs,
- Unmannerly intruder as thou art!
- LAVINIA. Under your patience, gentle Emperess,
- 'Tis thought you have a goodly gift in horning,
- And to be doubted that your Moor and you
- Are singled forth to try thy experiments.
- Jove shield your husband from his hounds to-day!
- 'Tis pity they should take him for a stag.
- BASSIANUS. Believe me, Queen, your swarth Cimmerian
- Doth make your honour of his body's hue,
- Spotted, detested, and abominable.
- Why are you sequest'red from all your train,
- Dismounted from your snow-white goodly steed,
- And wand'red hither to an obscure plot,
- Accompanied but with a barbarous Moor,
- If foul desire had not conducted you?
- LAVINIA. And, being intercepted in your sport,
- Great reason that my noble lord be rated
- For sauciness. I pray you let us hence,
- And let her joy her raven-coloured love;
- This valley fits the purpose passing well.
- BASSIANUS. The King my brother shall have notice of this.
- LAVINIA. Ay, for these slips have made him noted long.
- Good king, to be so mightily abused!
- TAMORA. Why, I have patience to endure all this.
-
- Enter CHIRON and DEMETRIUS
-
- DEMETRIUS. How now, dear sovereign, and our gracious mother!
- Why doth your Highness look so pale and wan?
- TAMORA. Have I not reason, think you, to look pale?
- These two have 'ticed me hither to this place.
- A barren detested vale you see it is:
- The trees, though summer, yet forlorn and lean,
- Overcome with moss and baleful mistletoe;
- Here never shines the sun; here nothing breeds,
- Unless the nightly owl or fatal raven.
- And when they show'd me this abhorred pit,
- They told me, here, at dead time of the night,
- A thousand fiends, a thousand hissing snakes,
- Ten thousand swelling toads, as many urchins,
- Would make such fearful and confused cries
- As any mortal body hearing it
- Should straight fall mad or else die suddenly.
- No sooner had they told this hellish tale
- But straight they told me they would bind me here
- Unto the body of a dismal yew,
- And leave me to this miserable death.
- And then they call'd me foul adulteress,
- Lascivious Goth, and all the bitterest terms
- That ever ear did hear to such effect;
- And had you not by wondrous fortune come,
- This vengeance on me had they executed.
- Revenge it, as you love your mother's life,
- Or be ye not henceforth call'd my children.
- DEMETRIUS. This is a witness that I am thy son.
- [Stabs BASSIANUS]
- CHIRON. And this for me, struck home to show my strength.
- [Also stabs]
- LAVINIA. Ay, come, Semiramis- nay, barbarous Tamora,
- For no name fits thy nature but thy own!
- TAMORA. Give me the poniard; you shall know, my boys,
- Your mother's hand shall right your mother's wrong.
- DEMETRIUS. Stay, madam, here is more belongs to her;
- First thrash the corn, then after burn the straw.
- This minion stood upon her chastity,
- Upon her nuptial vow, her loyalty,
- And with that painted hope braves your mightiness;
- And shall she carry this unto her grave?
- CHIRON. An if she do, I would I were an eunuch.
- Drag hence her husband to some secret hole,
- And make his dead trunk pillow to our lust.
- TAMORA. But when ye have the honey we desire,
- Let not this wasp outlive, us both to sting.
- CHIRON. I warrant you, madam, we will make that sure.
- Come, mistress, now perforce we will enjoy
- That nice-preserved honesty of yours.
- LAVINIA. O Tamora! thou bearest a woman's face-
- TAMORA. I will not hear her speak; away with her!
- LAVINIA. Sweet lords, entreat her hear me but a word.
- DEMETRIUS. Listen, fair madam: let it be your glory
- To see her tears; but be your heart to them
- As unrelenting flint to drops of rain.
- LAVINIA. When did the tiger's young ones teach the dam?
- O, do not learn her wrath- she taught it thee;
- The milk thou suck'dst from her did turn to marble,
- Even at thy teat thou hadst thy tyranny.
- Yet every mother breeds not sons alike:
- [To CHIRON] Do thou entreat her show a woman's pity.
- CHIRON. What, wouldst thou have me prove myself a bastard?
- LAVINIA. 'Tis true, the raven doth not hatch a lark.
- Yet have I heard- O, could I find it now!-
- The lion, mov'd with pity, did endure
- To have his princely paws par'd all away.
- Some say that ravens foster forlorn children,
- The whilst their own birds famish in their nests;
- O, be to me, though thy hard heart say no,
- Nothing so kind, but something pitiful!
- TAMORA. I know not what it means; away with her!
- LAVINIA. O, let me teach thee! For my father's sake,
- That gave thee life when well he might have slain thee,
- Be not obdurate, open thy deaf ears.
- TAMORA. Hadst thou in person ne'er offended me,
- Even for his sake am I pitiless.
- Remember, boys, I pour'd forth tears in vain
- To save your brother from the sacrifice;
- But fierce Andronicus would not relent.
- Therefore away with her, and use her as you will;
- The worse to her the better lov'd of me.
- LAVINIA. O Tamora, be call'd a gentle queen,
- And with thine own hands kill me in this place!
- For 'tis not life that I have begg'd so long;
- Poor I was slain when Bassianus died.
- TAMORA. What beg'st thou, then? Fond woman, let me go.
- LAVINIA. 'Tis present death I beg; and one thing more,
- That womanhood denies my tongue to tell:
- O, keep me from their worse than killing lust,
- And tumble me into some loathsome pit,
- Where never man's eye may behold my body;
- Do this, and be a charitable murderer.
- TAMORA. So should I rob my sweet sons of their fee;
- No, let them satisfy their lust on thee.
- DEMETRIUS. Away! for thou hast stay'd us here too long.
- LAVINIA. No grace? no womanhood? Ah, beastly creature,
- The blot and enemy to our general name!
- Confusion fall-
- CHIRON. Nay, then I'll stop your mouth. Bring thou her husband.
- This is the hole where Aaron bid us hide him.
-
- DEMETRIUS throws the body
- of BASSIANUS into the pit; then exeunt
- DEMETRIUS and CHIRON, dragging off LAVINIA
-
- TAMORA. Farewell, my sons; see that you make her sure.
- Ne'er let my heart know merry cheer indeed
- Till all the Andronici be made away.
- Now will I hence to seek my lovely Moor,
- And let my spleenful sons this trull deflower. Exit
-
- Re-enter AARON, with two
- of TITUS' sons, QUINTUS and MARTIUS
-
- AARON. Come on, my lords, the better foot before;
- Straight will I bring you to the loathsome pit
- Where I espied the panther fast asleep.
- QUINTUS. My sight is very dull, whate'er it bodes.
- MARTIUS. And mine, I promise you; were it not for shame,
- Well could I leave our sport to sleep awhile.
- [Falls into the pit]
- QUINTUS. What, art thou fallen? What subtle hole is this,
- Whose mouth is covered with rude-growing briers,
- Upon whose leaves are drops of new-shed blood
- As fresh as morning dew distill'd on flowers?
- A very fatal place it seems to me.
- Speak, brother, hast thou hurt thee with the fall?
- MARTIUS. O brother, with the dismal'st object hurt
- That ever eye with sight made heart lament!
- AARON. [Aside] Now will I fetch the King to find them here,
- That he thereby may have a likely guess
- How these were they that made away his brother. Exit
- MARTIUS. Why dost not comfort me, and help me out
- From this unhallow'd and blood-stained hole?
- QUINTUS. I am surprised with an uncouth fear;
- A chilling sweat o'er-runs my trembling joints;
- My heart suspects more than mine eye can see.
- MARTIUS. To prove thou hast a true divining heart,
- Aaron and thou look down into this den,
- And see a fearful sight of blood and death.
- QUINTUS. Aaron is gone, and my compassionate heart
- Will not permit mine eyes once to behold
- The thing whereat it trembles by surmise;
- O, tell me who it is, for ne'er till now
- Was I a child to fear I know not what.
- MARTIUS. Lord Bassianus lies beray'd in blood,
- All on a heap, like to a slaughtered lamb,
- In this detested, dark, blood-drinking pit.
- QUINTUS. If it be dark, how dost thou know 'tis he?
- MARTIUS. Upon his bloody finger he doth wear
- A precious ring that lightens all this hole,
- Which, like a taper in some monument,
- Doth shine upon the dead man's earthy cheeks,
- And shows the ragged entrails of this pit;
- So pale did shine the moon on Pyramus
- When he by night lay bath'd in maiden blood.
- O brother, help me with thy fainting hand-
- If fear hath made thee faint, as me it hath-
- Out of this fell devouring receptacle,
- As hateful as Cocytus' misty mouth.
- QUINTUS. Reach me thy hand, that I may help thee out,
- Or, wanting strength to do thee so much good,
- I may be pluck'd into the swallowing womb
- Of this deep pit, poor Bassianus' grave.
- I have no strength to pluck thee to the brink.
- MARTIUS. Nor I no strength to climb without thy help.
- QUINTUS. Thy hand once more; I will not loose again,
- Till thou art here aloft, or I below.
- Thou canst not come to me- I come to thee. [Falls in]
-
- Enter the EMPEROR and AARON the Moor
-
- SATURNINUS. Along with me! I'll see what hole is here,
- And what he is that now is leapt into it.
- Say, who art thou that lately didst descend
- Into this gaping hollow of the earth?
- MARTIUS. The unhappy sons of old Andronicus,
- Brought hither in a most unlucky hour,
- To find thy brother Bassianus dead.
- SATURNINUS. My brother dead! I know thou dost but jest:
- He and his lady both are at the lodge
- Upon the north side of this pleasant chase;
- 'Tis not an hour since I left them there.
- MARTIUS. We know not where you left them all alive;
- But, out alas! here have we found him dead.
-
- Re-enter TAMORA, with
- attendants; TITUS ANDRONICUS and Lucius
-
- TAMORA. Where is my lord the King?
- SATURNINUS. Here, Tamora; though griev'd with killing grief.
- TAMORA. Where is thy brother Bassianus?
- SATURNINUS. Now to the bottom dost thou search my wound;
- Poor Bassianus here lies murdered.
- TAMORA. Then all too late I bring this fatal writ,
- The complot of this timeless tragedy;
- And wonder greatly that man's face can fold
- In pleasing smiles such murderous tyranny.
- [She giveth SATURNINE a letter]
- SATURNINUS. [Reads] 'An if we miss to meet him handsomely,
- Sweet huntsman- Bassianus 'tis we mean-
- Do thou so much as dig the grave for him.
- Thou know'st our meaning. Look for thy reward
- Among the nettles at the elder-tree
- Which overshades the mouth of that same pit
- Where we decreed to bury Bassianus.
- Do this, and purchase us thy lasting friends.'
- O Tamora! was ever heard the like?
- This is the pit and this the elder-tree.
- Look, sirs, if you can find the huntsman out
- That should have murdered Bassianus here.
- AARON. My gracious lord, here is the bag of gold.
- SATURNINUS. [To TITUS] Two of thy whelps, fell curs of bloody
- kind,
- Have here bereft my brother of his life.
- Sirs, drag them from the pit unto the prison;
- There let them bide until we have devis'd
- Some never-heard-of torturing pain for them.
- TAMORA. What, are they in this pit? O wondrous thing!
- How easily murder is discovered!
- TITUS. High Emperor, upon my feeble knee
- I beg this boon, with tears not lightly shed,
- That this fell fault of my accursed sons-
- Accursed if the fault be prov'd in them-
- SATURNINUS. If it be prov'd! You see it is apparent.
- Who found this letter? Tamora, was it you?
- TAMORA. Andronicus himself did take it up.
- TITUS. I did, my lord, yet let me be their bail;
- For, by my fathers' reverend tomb, I vow
- They shall be ready at your Highness' will
- To answer their suspicion with their lives.
- SATURNINUS. Thou shalt not bail them; see thou follow me.
- Some bring the murdered body, some the murderers;
- Let them not speak a word- the guilt is plain;
- For, by my soul, were there worse end than death,
- That end upon them should be executed.
- TAMORA. Andronicus, I will entreat the King.
- Fear not thy sons; they shall do well enough.
- TITUS. Come, Lucius, come; stay not to talk with them. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE IV.
-Another part of the forest
-
-Enter the Empress' sons, DEMETRIUS and CHIRON, with LAVINIA,
-her hands cut off, and her tongue cut out, and ravish'd
-
- DEMETRIUS. So, now go tell, an if thy tongue can speak,
- Who 'twas that cut thy tongue and ravish'd thee.
- CHIRON. Write down thy mind, bewray thy meaning so,
- An if thy stumps will let thee play the scribe.
- DEMETRIUS. See how with signs and tokens she can scrowl.
- CHIRON. Go home, call for sweet water, wash thy hands.
- DEMETRIUS. She hath no tongue to call, nor hands to wash;
- And so let's leave her to her silent walks.
- CHIRON. An 'twere my cause, I should go hang myself.
- DEMETRIUS. If thou hadst hands to help thee knit the cord.
- Exeunt DEMETRIUS and CHIRON
-
- Wind horns. Enter MARCUS, from hunting
-
- MARCUS. Who is this?- my niece, that flies away so fast?
- Cousin, a word: where is your husband?
- If I do dream, would all my wealth would wake me!
- If I do wake, some planet strike me down,
- That I may slumber an eternal sleep!
- Speak, gentle niece. What stern ungentle hands
- Hath lopp'd, and hew'd, and made thy body bare
- Of her two branches- those sweet ornaments
- Whose circling shadows kings have sought to sleep in,
- And might not gain so great a happiness
- As half thy love? Why dost not speak to me?
- Alas, a crimson river of warm blood,
- Like to a bubbling fountain stirr'd with wind,
- Doth rise and fall between thy rosed lips,
- Coming and going with thy honey breath.
- But sure some Tereus hath deflowered thee,
- And, lest thou shouldst detect him, cut thy tongue.
- Ah, now thou turn'st away thy face for shame!
- And notwithstanding all this loss of blood-
- As from a conduit with three issuing spouts-
- Yet do thy cheeks look red as Titan's face
- Blushing to be encount'red with a cloud.
- Shall I speak for thee? Shall I say 'tis so?
- O, that I knew thy heart, and knew the beast,
- That I might rail at him to ease my mind!
- Sorrow concealed, like an oven stopp'd,
- Doth burn the heart to cinders where it is.
- Fair Philomel, why she but lost her tongue,
- And in a tedious sampler sew'd her mind;
- But, lovely niece, that mean is cut from thee.
- A craftier Tereus, cousin, hast thou met,
- And he hath cut those pretty fingers off
- That could have better sew'd than Philomel.
- O, had the monster seen those lily hands
- Tremble like aspen leaves upon a lute
- And make the silken strings delight to kiss them,
- He would not then have touch'd them for his life!
- Or had he heard the heavenly harmony
- Which that sweet tongue hath made,
- He would have dropp'd his knife, and fell asleep,
- As Cerberus at the Thracian poet's feet.
- Come, let us go, and make thy father blind,
- For such a sight will blind a father's eye;
- One hour's storm will drown the fragrant meads,
- What will whole months of tears thy father's eyes?
- Do not draw back, for we will mourn with thee;
- O, could our mourning case thy misery! Exeunt
-
-
-
-
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-
-ACT III. SCENE I.
-Rome. A street
-
-Enter the JUDGES, TRIBUNES, and SENATORS, with TITUS' two sons
-MARTIUS and QUINTUS bound, passing on the stage to the place of execution,
-and TITUS going before, pleading
-
- TITUS. Hear me, grave fathers; noble Tribunes, stay!
- For pity of mine age, whose youth was spent
- In dangerous wars whilst you securely slept;
- For all my blood in Rome's great quarrel shed,
- For all the frosty nights that I have watch'd,
- And for these bitter tears, which now you see
- Filling the aged wrinkles in my cheeks,
- Be pitiful to my condemned sons,
- Whose souls are not corrupted as 'tis thought.
- For two and twenty sons I never wept,
- Because they died in honour's lofty bed.
- [ANDRONICUS lieth down, and the judges
- pass by him with the prisoners, and exeunt]
- For these, Tribunes, in the dust I write
- My heart's deep languor and my soul's sad tears.
- Let my tears stanch the earth's dry appetite;
- My sons' sweet blood will make it shame and blush.
- O earth, I will befriend thee more with rain
- That shall distil from these two ancient urns,
- Than youthful April shall with all his show'rs.
- In summer's drought I'll drop upon thee still;
- In winter with warm tears I'll melt the snow
- And keep eternal spring-time on thy face,
- So thou refuse to drink my dear sons' blood.
-
- Enter Lucius with his weapon drawn
-
- O reverend Tribunes! O gentle aged men!
- Unbind my sons, reverse the doom of death,
- And let me say, that never wept before,
- My tears are now prevailing orators.
- LUCIUS. O noble father, you lament in vain;
- The Tribunes hear you not, no man is by,
- And you recount your sorrows to a stone.
- TITUS. Ah, Lucius, for thy brothers let me plead!
- Grave Tribunes, once more I entreat of you.
- LUCIUS. My gracious lord, no tribune hears you speak.
- TITUS. Why, 'tis no matter, man: if they did hear,
- They would not mark me; if they did mark,
- They would not pity me; yet plead I must,
- And bootless unto them.
- Therefore I tell my sorrows to the stones;
- Who though they cannot answer my distress,
- Yet in some sort they are better than the Tribunes,
- For that they will not intercept my tale.
- When I do weep, they humbly at my feet
- Receive my tears, and seem to weep with me;
- And were they but attired in grave weeds,
- Rome could afford no tribunes like to these.
- A stone is soft as wax: tribunes more hard than stones.
- A stone is silent and offendeth not,
- And tribunes with their tongues doom men to death.
- [Rises]
- But wherefore stand'st thou with thy weapon drawn?
- LUCIUS. To rescue my two brothers from their death;
- For which attempt the judges have pronounc'd
- My everlasting doom of banishment.
- TITUS. O happy man! they have befriended thee.
- Why, foolish Lucius, dost thou not perceive
- That Rome is but a wilderness of tigers?
- Tigers must prey, and Rome affords no prey
- But me and mine; how happy art thou then
- From these devourers to be banished!
- But who comes with our brother Marcus here?
-
- Enter MARCUS with LAVINIA
-
- MARCUS. Titus, prepare thy aged eyes to weep,
- Or if not so, thy noble heart to break.
- I bring consuming sorrow to thine age.
- TITUS. Will it consume me? Let me see it then.
- MARCUS. This was thy daughter.
- TITUS. Why, Marcus, so she is.
- LUCIUS. Ay me! this object kills me.
- TITUS. Faint-hearted boy, arise, and look upon her.
- Speak, Lavinia, what accursed hand
- Hath made thee handless in thy father's sight?
- What fool hath added water to the sea,
- Or brought a fagot to bright-burning Troy?
- My grief was at the height before thou cam'st,
- And now like Nilus it disdaineth bounds.
- Give me a sword, I'll chop off my hands too,
- For they have fought for Rome, and all in vain;
- And they have nurs'd this woe in feeding life;
- In bootless prayer have they been held up,
- And they have serv'd me to effectless use.
- Now all the service I require of them
- Is that the one will help to cut the other.
- 'Tis well, Lavinia, that thou hast no hands;
- For hands to do Rome service is but vain.
- LUCIUS. Speak, gentle sister, who hath martyr'd thee?
- MARCUS. O, that delightful engine of her thoughts
- That blabb'd them with such pleasing eloquence
- Is torn from forth that pretty hollow cage,
- Where like a sweet melodious bird it sung
- Sweet varied notes, enchanting every ear!
- LUCIUS. O, say thou for her, who hath done this deed?
- MARCUS. O, thus I found her straying in the park,
- Seeking to hide herself as doth the deer
- That hath receiv'd some unrecuring wound.
- TITUS. It was my dear, and he that wounded her
- Hath hurt me more than had he kill'd me dead;
- For now I stand as one upon a rock,
- Environ'd with a wilderness of sea,
- Who marks the waxing tide grow wave by wave,
- Expecting ever when some envious surge
- Will in his brinish bowels swallow him.
- This way to death my wretched sons are gone;
- Here stands my other son, a banish'd man,
- And here my brother, weeping at my woes.
- But that which gives my soul the greatest spurn
- Is dear Lavinia, dearer than my soul.
- Had I but seen thy picture in this plight,
- It would have madded me; what shall I do
- Now I behold thy lively body so?
- Thou hast no hands to wipe away thy tears,
- Nor tongue to tell me who hath martyr'd thee;
- Thy husband he is dead, and for his death
- Thy brothers are condemn'd, and dead by this.
- Look, Marcus! Ah, son Lucius, look on her!
- When I did name her brothers, then fresh tears
- Stood on her cheeks, as doth the honey dew
- Upon a gath'red lily almost withered.
- MARCUS. Perchance she weeps because they kill'd her husband;
- Perchance because she knows them innocent.
- TITUS. If they did kill thy husband, then be joyful,
- Because the law hath ta'en revenge on them.
- No, no, they would not do so foul a deed;
- Witness the sorrow that their sister makes.
- Gentle Lavinia, let me kiss thy lips,
- Or make some sign how I may do thee ease.
- Shall thy good uncle and thy brother Lucius
- And thou and I sit round about some fountain,
- Looking all downwards to behold our cheeks
- How they are stain'd, like meadows yet not dry
- With miry slime left on them by a flood?
- And in the fountain shall we gaze so long,
- Till the fresh taste be taken from that clearness,
- And made a brine-pit with our bitter tears?
- Or shall we cut away our hands like thine?
- Or shall we bite our tongues, and in dumb shows
- Pass the remainder of our hateful days?
- What shall we do? Let us that have our tongues
- Plot some device of further misery
- To make us wonder'd at in time to come.
- LUCIUS. Sweet father, cease your tears; for at your grief
- See how my wretched sister sobs and weeps.
- MARCUS. Patience, dear niece. Good Titus, dry thine eyes.
- TITUS. Ah, Marcus, Marcus! Brother, well I wot
- Thy napkin cannot drink a tear of mine,
- For thou, poor man, hast drown'd it with thine own.
- LUCIUS. Ah, my Lavinia, I will wipe thy cheeks.
- TITUS. Mark, Marcus, mark! I understand her signs.
- Had she a tongue to speak, now would she say
- That to her brother which I said to thee:
- His napkin, with his true tears all bewet,
- Can do no service on her sorrowful cheeks.
- O, what a sympathy of woe is this
- As far from help as Limbo is from bliss!
-
- Enter AARON the Moor
-
- AARON. Titus Andronicus, my lord the Emperor
- Sends thee this word, that, if thou love thy sons,
- Let Marcus, Lucius, or thyself, old Titus,
- Or any one of you, chop off your hand
- And send it to the King: he for the same
- Will send thee hither both thy sons alive,
- And that shall be the ransom for their fault.
- TITUS. O gracious Emperor! O gentle Aaron!
- Did ever raven sing so like a lark
- That gives sweet tidings of the sun's uprise?
- With all my heart I'll send the Emperor my hand.
- Good Aaron, wilt thou help to chop it off?
- LUCIUS. Stay, father! for that noble hand of thine,
- That hath thrown down so many enemies,
- Shall not be sent. My hand will serve the turn,
- My youth can better spare my blood than you,
- And therefore mine shall save my brothers' lives.
- MARCUS. Which of your hands hath not defended Rome
- And rear'd aloft the bloody battle-axe,
- Writing destruction on the enemy's castle?
- O, none of both but are of high desert!
- My hand hath been but idle; let it serve
- To ransom my two nephews from their death;
- Then have I kept it to a worthy end.
- AARON. Nay, come, agree whose hand shall go along,
- For fear they die before their pardon come.
- MARCUS. My hand shall go.
- LUCIUS. By heaven, it shall not go!
- TITUS. Sirs, strive no more; such with'red herbs as these
- Are meet for plucking up, and therefore mine.
- LUCIUS. Sweet father, if I shall be thought thy son,
- Let me redeem my brothers both from death.
- MARCUS. And for our father's sake and mother's care,
- Now let me show a brother's love to thee.
- TITUS. Agree between you; I will spare my hand.
- LUCIUS. Then I'll go fetch an axe.
- MARCUS. But I will use the axe.
- Exeunt LUCIUS and MARCUS
- TITUS. Come hither, Aaron, I'll deceive them both;
- Lend me thy hand, and I will give thee mine.
- AARON. [Aside] If that be call'd deceit, I will be honest,
- And never whilst I live deceive men so;
- But I'll deceive you in another sort,
- And that you'll say ere half an hour pass.
- [He cuts off TITUS' hand]
-
- Re-enter LUCIUS and MARCUS
-
- TITUS. Now stay your strife. What shall be is dispatch'd.
- Good Aaron, give his Majesty my hand;
- Tell him it was a hand that warded him
- From thousand dangers; bid him bury it.
- More hath it merited- that let it have.
- As for my sons, say I account of them
- As jewels purchas'd at an easy price;
- And yet dear too, because I bought mine own.
- AARON. I go, Andronicus; and for thy hand
- Look by and by to have thy sons with thee.
- [Aside] Their heads I mean. O, how this villainy
- Doth fat me with the very thoughts of it!
- Let fools do good, and fair men call for grace:
- Aaron will have his soul black like his face. Exit
- TITUS. O, here I lift this one hand up to heaven,
- And bow this feeble ruin to the earth;
- If any power pities wretched tears,
- To that I call! [To LAVINIA] What, would'st thou kneel with me?
- Do, then, dear heart; for heaven shall hear our prayers,
- Or with our sighs we'll breathe the welkin dim
- And stain the sun with fog, as sometime clouds
- When they do hug him in their melting bosoms.
- MARCUS. O brother, speak with possibility,
- And do not break into these deep extremes.
- TITUS. Is not my sorrow deep, having no bottom?
- Then be my passions bottomless with them.
- MARCUS. But yet let reason govern thy lament.
- TITUS. If there were reason for these miseries,
- Then into limits could I bind my woes.
- When heaven doth weep, doth not the earth o'erflow?
- If the winds rage, doth not the sea wax mad,
- Threat'ning the welkin with his big-swol'n face?
- And wilt thou have a reason for this coil?
- I am the sea; hark how her sighs do blow.
- She is the weeping welkin, I the earth;
- Then must my sea be moved with her sighs;
- Then must my earth with her continual tears
- Become a deluge, overflow'd and drown'd;
- For why my bowels cannot hide her woes,
- But like a drunkard must I vomit them.
- Then give me leave; for losers will have leave
- To ease their stomachs with their bitter tongues.
-
- Enter a MESSENGER, with two heads and a hand
-
- MESSENGER. Worthy Andronicus, ill art thou repaid
- For that good hand thou sent'st the Emperor.
- Here are the heads of thy two noble sons;
- And here's thy hand, in scorn to thee sent back-
- Thy grief their sports, thy resolution mock'd,
- That woe is me to think upon thy woes,
- More than remembrance of my father's death. Exit
- MARCUS. Now let hot Aetna cool in Sicily,
- And be my heart an ever-burning hell!
- These miseries are more than may be borne.
- To weep with them that weep doth ease some deal,
- But sorrow flouted at is double death.
- LUCIUS. Ah, that this sight should make so deep a wound,
- And yet detested life not shrink thereat!
- That ever death should let life bear his name,
- Where life hath no more interest but to breathe!
- [LAVINIA kisses TITUS]
- MARCUS. Alas, poor heart, that kiss is comfortless
- As frozen water to a starved snake.
- TITUS. When will this fearful slumber have an end?
- MARCUS. Now farewell, flatt'ry; die, Andronicus.
- Thou dost not slumber: see thy two sons' heads,
- Thy warlike hand, thy mangled daughter here;
- Thy other banish'd son with this dear sight
- Struck pale and bloodless; and thy brother, I,
- Even like a stony image, cold and numb.
- Ah! now no more will I control thy griefs.
- Rent off thy silver hair, thy other hand
- Gnawing with thy teeth; and be this dismal sight
- The closing up of our most wretched eyes.
- Now is a time to storm; why art thou still?
- TITUS. Ha, ha, ha!
- MARCUS. Why dost thou laugh? It fits not with this hour.
- TITUS. Why, I have not another tear to shed;
- Besides, this sorrow is an enemy,
- And would usurp upon my wat'ry eyes
- And make them blind with tributary tears.
- Then which way shall I find Revenge's cave?
- For these two heads do seem to speak to me,
- And threat me I shall never come to bliss
- Till all these mischiefs be return'd again
- Even in their throats that have committed them.
- Come, let me see what task I have to do.
- You heavy people, circle me about,
- That I may turn me to each one of you
- And swear unto my soul to right your wrongs.
- The vow is made. Come, brother, take a head,
- And in this hand the other will I bear.
- And, Lavinia, thou shalt be employ'd in this;
- Bear thou my hand, sweet wench, between thy teeth.
- As for thee, boy, go, get thee from my sight;
- Thou art an exile, and thou must not stay.
- Hie to the Goths and raise an army there;
- And if ye love me, as I think you do,
- Let's kiss and part, for we have much to do.
- Exeunt all but Lucius
- LUCIUS. Farewell, Andronicus, my noble father,
- The woefull'st man that ever liv'd in Rome.
- Farewell, proud Rome; till Lucius come again,
- He leaves his pledges dearer than his life.
- Farewell, Lavinia, my noble sister;
- O, would thou wert as thou tofore hast been!
- But now nor Lucius nor Lavinia lives
- But in oblivion and hateful griefs.
- If Lucius live, he will requite your wrongs
- And make proud Saturnine and his emperess
- Beg at the gates like Tarquin and his queen.
- Now will I to the Goths, and raise a pow'r
- To be reveng'd on Rome and Saturnine. Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-Rome. TITUS' house
-
-A banquet.
-
-Enter TITUS, MARCUS, LAVINIA, and the boy YOUNG LUCIUS
-
- TITUS. So so, now sit; and look you eat no more
- Than will preserve just so much strength in us
- As will revenge these bitter woes of ours.
- Marcus, unknit that sorrow-wreathen knot;
- Thy niece and I, poor creatures, want our hands,
- And cannot passionate our tenfold grief
- With folded arms. This poor right hand of mine
- Is left to tyrannize upon my breast;
- Who, when my heart, all mad with misery,
- Beats in this hollow prison of my flesh,
- Then thus I thump it down.
- [To LAVINIA] Thou map of woe, that thus dost talk in signs!
- When thy poor heart beats with outrageous beating,
- Thou canst not strike it thus to make it still.
- Wound it with sighing, girl, kill it with groans;
- Or get some little knife between thy teeth
- And just against thy heart make thou a hole,
- That all the tears that thy poor eyes let fall
- May run into that sink and, soaking in,
- Drown the lamenting fool in sea-salt tears.
- MARCUS. Fie, brother, fie! Teach her not thus to lay
- Such violent hands upon her tender life.
- TITUS. How now! Has sorrow made thee dote already?
- Why, Marcus, no man should be mad but I.
- What violent hands can she lay on her life?
- Ah, wherefore dost thou urge the name of hands?
- To bid Aeneas tell the tale twice o'er
- How Troy was burnt and he made miserable?
- O, handle not the theme, to talk of hands,
- Lest we remember still that we have none.
- Fie, fie, how franticly I square my talk,
- As if we should forget we had no hands,
- If Marcus did not name the word of hands!
- Come, let's fall to; and, gentle girl, eat this:
- Here is no drink. Hark, Marcus, what she says-
- I can interpret all her martyr'd signs;
- She says she drinks no other drink but tears,
- Brew'd with her sorrow, mesh'd upon her cheeks.
- Speechless complainer, I will learn thy thought;
- In thy dumb action will I be as perfect
- As begging hermits in their holy prayers.
- Thou shalt not sigh, nor hold thy stumps to heaven,
- Nor wink, nor nod, nor kneel, nor make a sign,
- But I of these will wrest an alphabet,
- And by still practice learn to know thy meaning.
- BOY. Good grandsire, leave these bitter deep laments;
- Make my aunt merry with some pleasing tale.
- MARCUS. Alas, the tender boy, in passion mov'd,
- Doth weep to see his grandsire's heaviness.
- TITUS. Peace, tender sapling; thou art made of tears,
- And tears will quickly melt thy life away.
- [MARCUS strikes the dish with a knife]
- What dost thou strike at, Marcus, with thy knife?
- MARCUS. At that that I have kill'd, my lord- a fly.
- TITUS. Out on thee, murderer, thou kill'st my heart!
- Mine eyes are cloy'd with view of tyranny;
- A deed of death done on the innocent
- Becomes not Titus' brother. Get thee gone;
- I see thou art not for my company.
- MARCUS. Alas, my lord, I have but kill'd a fly.
- TITUS. 'But!' How if that fly had a father and mother?
- How would he hang his slender gilded wings
- And buzz lamenting doings in the air!
- Poor harmless fly,
- That with his pretty buzzing melody
- Came here to make us merry! And thou hast kill'd him.
- MARCUS. Pardon me, sir; it was a black ill-favour'd fly,
- Like to the Empress' Moor; therefore I kill'd him.
- TITUS. O, O, O!
- Then pardon me for reprehending thee,
- For thou hast done a charitable deed.
- Give me thy knife, I will insult on him,
- Flattering myself as if it were the Moor
- Come hither purposely to poison me.
- There's for thyself, and that's for Tamora.
- Ah, sirrah!
- Yet, I think, we are not brought so low
- But that between us we can kill a fly
- That comes in likeness of a coal-black Moor.
- MARCUS. Alas, poor man! grief has so wrought on him,
- He takes false shadows for true substances.
- TITUS. Come, take away. Lavinia, go with me;
- I'll to thy closet, and go read with thee
- Sad stories chanced in the times of old.
- Come, boy, and go with me; thy sight is young,
- And thou shalt read when mine begin to dazzle. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
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-
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-
-ACT IV. SCENE I.
-Rome. TITUS' garden
-
-Enter YOUNG LUCIUS and LAVINIA running after him,
-and the boy flies from her with his books under his arm.
-
-Enter TITUS and MARCUS
-
- BOY. Help, grandsire, help! my aunt Lavinia
- Follows me everywhere, I know not why.
- Good uncle Marcus, see how swift she comes!
- Alas, sweet aunt, I know not what you mean.
- MARCUS. Stand by me, Lucius; do not fear thine aunt.
- TITUS. She loves thee, boy, too well to do thee harm.
- BOY. Ay, when my father was in Rome she did.
- MARCUS. What means my niece Lavinia by these signs?
- TITUS. Fear her not, Lucius; somewhat doth she mean.
- See, Lucius, see how much she makes of thee.
- Somewhither would she have thee go with her.
- Ah, boy, Cornelia never with more care
- Read to her sons than she hath read to thee
- Sweet poetry and Tully's Orator.
- MARCUS. Canst thou not guess wherefore she plies thee thus?
- BOY. My lord, I know not, I, nor can I guess,
- Unless some fit or frenzy do possess her;
- For I have heard my grandsire say full oft
- Extremity of griefs would make men mad;
- And I have read that Hecuba of Troy
- Ran mad for sorrow. That made me to fear;
- Although, my lord, I know my noble aunt
- Loves me as dear as e'er my mother did,
- And would not, but in fury, fright my youth;
- Which made me down to throw my books, and fly-
- Causeless, perhaps. But pardon me, sweet aunt;
- And, madam, if my uncle Marcus go,
- I will most willingly attend your ladyship.
- MARCUS. Lucius, I will. [LAVINIA turns over with her
- stumps the books which Lucius has let fall]
- TITUS. How now, Lavinia! Marcus, what means this?
- Some book there is that she desires to see.
- Which is it, girl, of these?- Open them, boy.-
- But thou art deeper read and better skill'd;
- Come and take choice of all my library,
- And so beguile thy sorrow, till the heavens
- Reveal the damn'd contriver of this deed.
- Why lifts she up her arms in sequence thus?
- MARCUS. I think she means that there were more than one
- Confederate in the fact; ay, more there was,
- Or else to heaven she heaves them for revenge.
- TITUS. Lucius, what book is that she tosseth so?
- BOY. Grandsire, 'tis Ovid's Metamorphoses;
- My mother gave it me.
- MARCUS. For love of her that's gone,
- Perhaps she cull'd it from among the rest.
- TITUS. Soft! So busily she turns the leaves! Help her.
- What would she find? Lavinia, shall I read?
- This is the tragic tale of Philomel
- And treats of Tereus' treason and his rape;
- And rape, I fear, was root of thy annoy.
- MARCUS. See, brother, see! Note how she quotes the leaves.
- TITUS. Lavinia, wert thou thus surpris'd, sweet girl,
- Ravish'd and wrong'd as Philomela was,
- Forc'd in the ruthless, vast, and gloomy woods?
- See, see!
- Ay, such a place there is where we did hunt-
- O, had we never, never hunted there!-
- Pattern'd by that the poet here describes,
- By nature made for murders and for rapes.
- MARCUS. O, why should nature build so foul a den,
- Unless the gods delight in tragedies?
- TITUS. Give signs, sweet girl, for here are none but friends,
- What Roman lord it was durst do the deed.
- Or slunk not Saturnine, as Tarquin erst,
- That left the camp to sin in Lucrece' bed?
- MARCUS. Sit down, sweet niece; brother, sit down by me.
- Apollo, Pallas, Jove, or Mercury,
- Inspire me, that I may this treason find!
- My lord, look here! Look here, Lavinia!
- [He writes his name with his
- staff, and guides it with feet and mouth]
- This sandy plot is plain; guide, if thou canst,
- This after me. I have writ my name
- Without the help of any hand at all.
- Curs'd be that heart that forc'd us to this shift!
- Write thou, good niece, and here display at last
- What God will have discovered for revenge.
- Heaven guide thy pen to print thy sorrows plain,
- That we may know the traitors and the truth!
- [She takes the staff in her mouth
- and guides it with stumps, and writes]
- O, do ye read, my lord, what she hath writ?
- TITUS. 'Stuprum- Chiron- Demetrius.'
- MARCUS. What, what! the lustful sons of Tamora
- Performers of this heinous bloody deed?
- TITUS. Magni Dominator poli,
- Tam lentus audis scelera? tam lentus vides?
- MARCUS. O, calm thee, gentle lord! although I know
- There is enough written upon this earth
- To stir a mutiny in the mildest thoughts,
- And arm the minds of infants to exclaims.
- My lord, kneel down with me; Lavinia, kneel;
- And kneel, sweet boy, the Roman Hector's hope;
- And swear with me- as, with the woeful fere
- And father of that chaste dishonoured dame,
- Lord Junius Brutus sware for Lucrece' rape-
- That we will prosecute, by good advice,
- Mortal revenge upon these traitorous Goths,
- And see their blood or die with this reproach.
- TITUS. 'Tis sure enough, an you knew how;
- But if you hunt these bear-whelps, then beware:
- The dam will wake; and if she wind ye once,
- She's with the lion deeply still in league,
- And lulls him whilst she playeth on her back,
- And when he sleeps will she do what she list.
- You are a young huntsman, Marcus; let alone;
- And come, I will go get a leaf of brass,
- And with a gad of steel will write these words,
- And lay it by. The angry northern wind
- Will blow these sands like Sibyl's leaves abroad,
- And where's our lesson, then? Boy, what say you?
- BOY. I say, my lord, that if I were a man
- Their mother's bedchamber should not be safe
- For these base bondmen to the yoke of Rome.
- MARCUS. Ay, that's my boy! Thy father hath full oft
- For his ungrateful country done the like.
- BOY. And, uncle, so will I, an if I live.
- TITUS. Come, go with me into mine armoury.
- Lucius, I'll fit thee; and withal my boy
- Shall carry from me to the Empress' sons
- Presents that I intend to send them both.
- Come, come; thou'lt do my message, wilt thou not?
- BOY. Ay, with my dagger in their bosoms, grandsire.
- TITUS. No, boy, not so; I'll teach thee another course.
- Lavinia, come. Marcus, look to my house.
- Lucius and I'll go brave it at the court;
- Ay, marry, will we, sir! and we'll be waited on.
- Exeunt TITUS, LAVINIA, and YOUNG LUCIUS
- MARCUS. O heavens, can you hear a good man groan
- And not relent, or not compassion him?
- Marcus, attend him in his ecstasy,
- That hath more scars of sorrow in his heart
- Than foemen's marks upon his batt'red shield,
- But yet so just that he will not revenge.
- Revenge the heavens for old Andronicus! Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-Rome. The palace
-
-Enter AARON, DEMETRIUS and CHIRON, at one door; and at the other door,
-YOUNG LUCIUS and another with a bundle of weapons, and verses writ upon them
-
- CHIRON. Demetrius, here's the son of Lucius;
- He hath some message to deliver us.
- AARON. Ay, some mad message from his mad grandfather.
- BOY. My lords, with all the humbleness I may,
- I greet your honours from Andronicus-
- [Aside] And pray the Roman gods confound you both!
- DEMETRIUS. Gramercy, lovely Lucius. What's the news?
- BOY. [Aside] That you are both decipher'd, that's the news,
- For villains mark'd with rape.- May it please you,
- My grandsire, well advis'd, hath sent by me
- The goodliest weapons of his armoury
- To gratify your honourable youth,
- The hope of Rome; for so he bid me say;
- And so I do, and with his gifts present
- Your lordships, that, whenever you have need,
- You may be armed and appointed well.
- And so I leave you both- [Aside] like bloody villains.
- Exeunt YOUNG LUCIUS and attendant
- DEMETRIUS. What's here? A scroll, and written round about.
- Let's see:
- [Reads] 'Integer vitae, scelerisque purus,
- Non eget Mauri iaculis, nec arcu.'
- CHIRON. O, 'tis a verse in Horace, I know it well;
- I read it in the grammar long ago.
- AARON. Ay, just- a verse in Horace. Right, you have it.
- [Aside] Now, what a thing it is to be an ass!
- Here's no sound jest! The old man hath found their guilt,
- And sends them weapons wrapp'd about with lines
- That wound, beyond their feeling, to the quick.
- But were our witty Empress well afoot,
- She would applaud Andronicus' conceit.
- But let her rest in her unrest awhile-
- And now, young lords, was't not a happy star
- Led us to Rome, strangers, and more than so,
- Captives, to be advanced to this height?
- It did me good before the palace gate
- To brave the Tribune in his brother's hearing.
- DEMETRIUS. But me more good to see so great a lord
- Basely insinuate and send us gifts.
- AARON. Had he not reason, Lord Demetrius?
- Did you not use his daughter very friendly?
- DEMETRIUS. I would we had a thousand Roman dames
- At such a bay, by turn to serve our lust.
- CHIRON. A charitable wish and full of love.
- AARON. Here lacks but your mother for to say amen.
- CHIRON. And that would she for twenty thousand more.
- DEMETRIUS. Come, let us go and pray to all the gods
- For our beloved mother in her pains.
- AARON. [Aside] Pray to the devils; the gods have given us over.
- [Trumpets sound]
- DEMETRIUS. Why do the Emperor's trumpets flourish thus?
- CHIRON. Belike, for joy the Emperor hath a son.
- DEMETRIUS. Soft! who comes here?
-
- Enter NURSE, with a blackamoor CHILD
-
- NURSE. Good morrow, lords.
- O, tell me, did you see Aaron the Moor?
- AARON. Well, more or less, or ne'er a whit at all,
- Here Aaron is; and what with Aaron now?
- NURSE. O gentle Aaron, we are all undone!
- Now help, or woe betide thee evermore!
- AARON. Why, what a caterwauling dost thou keep!
- What dost thou wrap and fumble in thy arms?
- NURSE. O, that which I would hide from heaven's eye:
- Our Empress' shame and stately Rome's disgrace!
- She is delivered, lord; she is delivered.
- AARON. To whom?
- NURSE. I mean she is brought a-bed.
- AARON. Well, God give her good rest! What hath he sent her?
- NURSE. A devil.
- AARON. Why, then she is the devil's dam;
- A joyful issue.
- NURSE. A joyless, dismal, black, and sorrowful issue!
- Here is the babe, as loathsome as a toad
- Amongst the fair-fac'd breeders of our clime;
- The Empress sends it thee, thy stamp, thy seal,
- And bids thee christen it with thy dagger's point.
- AARON. Zounds, ye whore! Is black so base a hue?
- Sweet blowse, you are a beauteous blossom sure.
- DEMETRIUS. Villain, what hast thou done?
- AARON. That which thou canst not undo.
- CHIRON. Thou hast undone our mother.
- AARON. Villain, I have done thy mother.
- DEMETRIUS. And therein, hellish dog, thou hast undone her.
- Woe to her chance, and damn'd her loathed choice!
- Accurs'd the offspring of so foul a fiend!
- CHIRON. It shall not live.
- AARON. It shall not die.
- NURSE. Aaron, it must; the mother wills it so.
- AARON. What, must it, nurse? Then let no man but I
- Do execution on my flesh and blood.
- DEMETRIUS. I'll broach the tadpole on my rapier's point.
- Nurse, give it me; my sword shall soon dispatch it.
- AARON. Sooner this sword shall plough thy bowels up.
- [Takes the CHILD from the NURSE, and draws]
- Stay, murderous villains, will you kill your brother!
- Now, by the burning tapers of the sky
- That shone so brightly when this boy was got,
- He dies upon my scimitar's sharp point
- That touches this my first-born son and heir.
- I tell you, younglings, not Enceladus,
- With all his threat'ning band of Typhon's brood,
- Nor great Alcides, nor the god of war,
- Shall seize this prey out of his father's hands.
- What, what, ye sanguine, shallow-hearted boys!
- Ye white-lim'd walls! ye alehouse painted signs!
- Coal-black is better than another hue
- In that it scorns to bear another hue;
- For all the water in the ocean
- Can never turn the swan's black legs to white,
- Although she lave them hourly in the flood.
- Tell the Empress from me I am of age
- To keep mine own- excuse it how she can.
- DEMETRIUS. Wilt thou betray thy noble mistress thus?
- AARON. My mistress is my mistress: this my self,
- The vigour and the picture of my youth.
- This before all the world do I prefer;
- This maugre all the world will I keep safe,
- Or some of you shall smoke for it in Rome.
- DEMETRIUS. By this our mother is for ever sham'd.
- CHIRON. Rome will despise her for this foul escape.
- NURSE. The Emperor in his rage will doom her death.
- CHIRON. I blush to think upon this ignomy.
- AARON. Why, there's the privilege your beauty bears:
- Fie, treacherous hue, that will betray with blushing
- The close enacts and counsels of thy heart!
- Here's a young lad fram'd of another leer.
- Look how the black slave smiles upon the father,
- As who should say 'Old lad, I am thine own.'
- He is your brother, lords, sensibly fed
- Of that self-blood that first gave life to you;
- And from your womb where you imprisoned were
- He is enfranchised and come to light.
- Nay, he is your brother by the surer side,
- Although my seal be stamped in his face.
- NURSE. Aaron, what shall I say unto the Empress?
- DEMETRIUS. Advise thee, Aaron, what is to be done,
- And we will all subscribe to thy advice.
- Save thou the child, so we may all be safe.
- AARON. Then sit we down and let us all consult.
- My son and I will have the wind of you:
- Keep there; now talk at pleasure of your safety.
- [They sit]
- DEMETRIUS. How many women saw this child of his?
- AARON. Why, so, brave lords! When we join in league
- I am a lamb; but if you brave the Moor,
- The chafed boar, the mountain lioness,
- The ocean swells not so as Aaron storms.
- But say, again, how many saw the child?
- NURSE. Cornelia the midwife and myself;
- And no one else but the delivered Empress.
- AARON. The Emperess, the midwife, and yourself.
- Two may keep counsel when the third's away:
- Go to the Empress, tell her this I said. [He kills her]
- Weeke weeke!
- So cries a pig prepared to the spit.
- DEMETRIUS. What mean'st thou, Aaron? Wherefore didst thou this?
- AARON. O Lord, sir, 'tis a deed of policy.
- Shall she live to betray this guilt of ours-
- A long-tongu'd babbling gossip? No, lords, no.
- And now be it known to you my full intent:
- Not far, one Muliteus, my countryman-
- His wife but yesternight was brought to bed;
- His child is like to her, fair as you are.
- Go pack with him, and give the mother gold,
- And tell them both the circumstance of all,
- And how by this their child shall be advanc'd,
- And be received for the Emperor's heir
- And substituted in the place of mine,
- To calm this tempest whirling in the court;
- And let the Emperor dandle him for his own.
- Hark ye, lords. You see I have given her physic,
- [Pointing to the NURSE]
- And you must needs bestow her funeral;
- The fields are near, and you are gallant grooms.
- This done, see that you take no longer days,
- But send the midwife presently to me.
- The midwife and the nurse well made away,
- Then let the ladies tattle what they please.
- CHIRON. Aaron, I see thou wilt not trust the air
- With secrets.
- DEMETRIUS. For this care of Tamora,
- Herself and hers are highly bound to thee.
-
- Exeunt DEMETRIUS and CHIRON, bearing off the dead NURSE
-
- AARON. Now to the Goths, as swift as swallow flies,
- There to dispose this treasure in mine arms,
- And secretly to greet the Empress' friends.
- Come on, you thick-lipp'd slave, I'll bear you hence;
- For it is you that puts us to our shifts.
- I'll make you feed on berries and on roots,
- And feed on curds and whey, and suck the goat,
- And cabin in a cave, and bring you up
- To be a warrior and command a camp.
- Exit with the CHILD
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-Rome. A public place
-
-Enter TITUS, bearing arrows with letters on the ends of them;
-with him MARCUS, YOUNG LUCIUS, and other gentlemen,
-PUBLIUS, SEMPRONIUS, and CAIUS, with bows
-
- TITUS. Come, Marcus, come; kinsmen, this is the way.
- Sir boy, let me see your archery;
- Look ye draw home enough, and 'tis there straight.
- Terras Astrea reliquit,
- Be you rememb'red, Marcus; she's gone, she's fled.
- Sirs, take you to your tools. You, cousins, shall
- Go sound the ocean and cast your nets;
- Happily you may catch her in the sea;
- Yet there's as little justice as at land.
- No; Publius and Sempronius, you must do it;
- 'Tis you must dig with mattock and with spade,
- And pierce the inmost centre of the earth;
- Then, when you come to Pluto's region,
- I pray you deliver him this petition.
- Tell him it is for justice and for aid,
- And that it comes from old Andronicus,
- Shaken with sorrows in ungrateful Rome.
- Ah, Rome! Well, well, I made thee miserable
- What time I threw the people's suffrages
- On him that thus doth tyrannize o'er me.
- Go get you gone; and pray be careful all,
- And leave you not a man-of-war unsearch'd.
- This wicked Emperor may have shipp'd her hence;
- And, kinsmen, then we may go pipe for justice.
- MARCUS. O Publius, is not this a heavy case,
- To see thy noble uncle thus distract?
- PUBLIUS. Therefore, my lords, it highly us concerns
- By day and night t' attend him carefully,
- And feed his humour kindly as we may
- Till time beget some careful remedy.
- MARCUS. Kinsmen, his sorrows are past remedy.
- Join with the Goths, and with revengeful war
- Take wreak on Rome for this ingratitude,
- And vengeance on the traitor Saturnine.
- TITUS. Publius, how now? How now, my masters?
- What, have you met with her?
- PUBLIUS. No, my good lord; but Pluto sends you word,
- If you will have Revenge from hell, you shall.
- Marry, for Justice, she is so employ'd,
- He thinks, with Jove in heaven, or somewhere else,
- So that perforce you must needs stay a time.
- TITUS. He doth me wrong to feed me with delays.
- I'll dive into the burning lake below
- And pull her out of Acheron by the heels.
- Marcus, we are but shrubs, no cedars we,
- No big-bon'd men fram'd of the Cyclops' size;
- But metal, Marcus, steel to the very back,
- Yet wrung with wrongs more than our backs can bear;
- And, sith there's no justice in earth nor hell,
- We will solicit heaven, and move the gods
- To send down justice for to wreak our wrongs.
- Come, to this gear. You are a good archer, Marcus.
- [He gives them the arrows]
- 'Ad Jovem' that's for you; here 'Ad Apollinem.'
- 'Ad Martem' that's for myself.
- Here, boy, 'To Pallas'; here 'To Mercury.'
- 'To Saturn,' Caius- not to Saturnine:
- You were as good to shoot against the wind.
- To it, boy. Marcus, loose when I bid.
- Of my word, I have written to effect;
- There's not a god left unsolicited.
- MARCUS. Kinsmen, shoot all your shafts into the court;
- We will afflict the Emperor in his pride.
- TITUS. Now, masters, draw. [They shoot] O, well said, Lucius!
- Good boy, in Virgo's lap! Give it Pallas.
- MARCUS. My lord, I aim a mile beyond the moon;
- Your letter is with Jupiter by this.
- TITUS. Ha! ha!
- Publius, Publius, hast thou done?
- See, see, thou hast shot off one of Taurus' horns.
- MARCUS. This was the sport, my lord: when Publius shot,
- The Bull, being gall'd, gave Aries such a knock
- That down fell both the Ram's horns in the court;
- And who should find them but the Empress' villain?
- She laugh'd, and told the Moor he should not choose
- But give them to his master for a present.
- TITUS. Why, there it goes! God give his lordship joy!
-
- Enter the CLOWN, with a basket and two pigeons in it
-
- News, news from heaven! Marcus, the post is come.
- Sirrah, what tidings? Have you any letters?
- Shall I have justice? What says Jupiter?
- CLOWN. Ho, the gibbet-maker? He says that he hath taken them down
- again, for the man must not be hang'd till the next week.
- TITUS. But what says Jupiter, I ask thee?
- CLOWN. Alas, sir, I know not Jupiter; I never drank with him in all
- my life.
- TITUS. Why, villain, art not thou the carrier?
- CLOWN. Ay, of my pigeons, sir; nothing else.
- TITUS. Why, didst thou not come from heaven?
- CLOWN. From heaven! Alas, sir, I never came there. God forbid I
- should be so bold to press to heaven in my young days. Why, I am
- going with my pigeons to the Tribunal Plebs, to take up a matter
- of brawl betwixt my uncle and one of the Emperal's men.
- MARCUS. Why, sir, that is as fit as can be to serve for your
- oration; and let him deliver the pigeons to the Emperor from you.
- TITUS. Tell me, can you deliver an oration to the Emperor with a
- grace?
- CLOWN. Nay, truly, sir, I could never say grace in all my life.
- TITUS. Sirrah, come hither. Make no more ado,
- But give your pigeons to the Emperor;
- By me thou shalt have justice at his hands.
- Hold, hold! Meanwhile here's money for thy charges.
- Give me pen and ink. Sirrah, can you with a grace deliver up a
- supplication?
- CLOWN. Ay, sir.
- TITUS. Then here is a supplication for you. And when you come to
- him, at the first approach you must kneel; then kiss his foot;
- then deliver up your pigeons; and then look for your reward. I'll
- be at hand, sir; see you do it bravely.
- CLOWN. I warrant you, sir; let me alone.
- TITUS. Sirrah, hast thou a knife? Come let me see it.
- Here, Marcus, fold it in the oration;
- For thou hast made it like a humble suppliant.
- And when thou hast given it to the Emperor,
- Knock at my door, and tell me what he says.
- CLOWN. God be with you, sir; I will.
- TITUS. Come, Marcus, let us go. Publius, follow me. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE IV.
-Rome. Before the palace
-
-Enter the EMPEROR, and the EMPRESS and her two sons, DEMETRIUS and CHIRON;
-LORDS and others. The EMPEROR brings the arrows in his hand that TITUS
-shot at him
-
- SATURNINUS. Why, lords, what wrongs are these! Was ever seen
- An emperor in Rome thus overborne,
- Troubled, confronted thus; and, for the extent
- Of egal justice, us'd in such contempt?
- My lords, you know, as know the mightful gods,
- However these disturbers of our peace
- Buzz in the people's ears, there nought hath pass'd
- But even with law against the wilful sons
- Of old Andronicus. And what an if
- His sorrows have so overwhelm'd his wits,
- Shall we be thus afflicted in his wreaks,
- His fits, his frenzy, and his bitterness?
- And now he writes to heaven for his redress.
- See, here's 'To Jove' and this 'To Mercury';
- This 'To Apollo'; this 'To the God of War'-
- Sweet scrolls to fly about the streets of Rome!
- What's this but libelling against the Senate,
- And blazoning our unjustice every where?
- A goodly humour, is it not, my lords?
- As who would say in Rome no justice were.
- But if I live, his feigned ecstasies
- Shall be no shelter to these outrages;
- But he and his shall know that justice lives
- In Saturninus' health; whom, if she sleep,
- He'll so awake as he in fury shall
- Cut off the proud'st conspirator that lives.
- TAMORA. My gracious lord, my lovely Saturnine,
- Lord of my life, commander of my thoughts,
- Calm thee, and bear the faults of Titus' age,
- Th' effects of sorrow for his valiant sons
- Whose loss hath pierc'd him deep and scarr'd his heart;
- And rather comfort his distressed plight
- Than prosecute the meanest or the best
- For these contempts. [Aside] Why, thus it shall become
- High-witted Tamora to gloze with all.
- But, Titus, I have touch'd thee to the quick,
- Thy life-blood out; if Aaron now be wise,
- Then is all safe, the anchor in the port.
-
- Enter CLOWN
-
- How now, good fellow! Wouldst thou speak with us?
- CLOWN. Yes, forsooth, an your mistriship be Emperial.
- TAMORA. Empress I am, but yonder sits the Emperor.
- CLOWN. 'Tis he.- God and Saint Stephen give you godden. I have
- brought you a letter and a couple of pigeons here.
- [SATURNINUS reads the letter]
- SATURNINUS. Go take him away, and hang him presently.
- CLOWN. How much money must I have?
- TAMORA. Come, sirrah, you must be hang'd.
- CLOWN. Hang'd! by'r lady, then I have brought up a neck to a fair
- end. [Exit guarded]
- SATURNINUS. Despiteful and intolerable wrongs!
- Shall I endure this monstrous villainy?
- I know from whence this same device proceeds.
- May this be borne- as if his traitorous sons
- That died by law for murder of our brother
- Have by my means been butchered wrongfully?
- Go drag the villain hither by the hair;
- Nor age nor honour shall shape privilege.
- For this proud mock I'll be thy slaughterman,
- Sly frantic wretch, that holp'st to make me great,
- In hope thyself should govern Rome and me.
-
- Enter NUNTIUS AEMILIUS
-
- What news with thee, Aemilius?
- AEMILIUS. Arm, my lords! Rome never had more cause.
- The Goths have gathered head; and with a power
- Of high resolved men, bent to the spoil,
- They hither march amain, under conduct
- Of Lucius, son to old Andronicus;
- Who threats in course of this revenge to do
- As much as ever Coriolanus did.
- SATURNINUS. Is warlike Lucius general of the Goths?
- These tidings nip me, and I hang the head
- As flowers with frost, or grass beat down with storms.
- Ay, now begins our sorrows to approach.
- 'Tis he the common people love so much;
- Myself hath often heard them say-
- When I have walked like a private man-
- That Lucius' banishment was wrongfully,
- And they have wish'd that Lucius were their emperor.
- TAMORA. Why should you fear? Is not your city strong?
- SATURNINUS. Ay, but the citizens favour Lucius,
- And will revolt from me to succour him.
- TAMORA. King, be thy thoughts imperious like thy name!
- Is the sun dimm'd, that gnats do fly in it?
- The eagle suffers little birds to sing,
- And is not careful what they mean thereby,
- Knowing that with the shadow of his wings
- He can at pleasure stint their melody;
- Even so mayest thou the giddy men of Rome.
- Then cheer thy spirit; for know thou, Emperor,
- I will enchant the old Andronicus
- With words more sweet, and yet more dangerous,
- Than baits to fish or honey-stalks to sheep,
- When as the one is wounded with the bait,
- The other rotted with delicious feed.
- SATURNINUS. But he will not entreat his son for us.
- TAMORA. If Tamora entreat him, then he will;
- For I can smooth and fill his aged ears
- With golden promises, that, were his heart
- Almost impregnable, his old ears deaf,
- Yet should both ear and heart obey my tongue.
- [To AEMILIUS] Go thou before to be our ambassador;
- Say that the Emperor requests a parley
- Of warlike Lucius, and appoint the meeting
- Even at his father's house, the old Andronicus.
- SATURNINUS. Aemilius, do this message honourably;
- And if he stand on hostage for his safety,
- Bid him demand what pledge will please him best.
- AEMILIUS. Your bidding shall I do effectually. Exit
- TAMORA. Now will I to that old Andronicus,
- And temper him with all the art I have,
- To pluck proud Lucius from the warlike Goths.
- And now, sweet Emperor, be blithe again,
- And bury all thy fear in my devices.
- SATURNINUS. Then go successantly, and plead to him.
- Exeunt
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT V. SCENE I.
-Plains near Rome
-
-Enter LUCIUS with an army of GOTHS with drums and colours
-
- LUCIUS. Approved warriors and my faithful friends,
- I have received letters from great Rome
- Which signifies what hate they bear their Emperor
- And how desirous of our sight they are.
- Therefore, great lords, be, as your titles witness,
- Imperious and impatient of your wrongs;
- And wherein Rome hath done you any scath,
- Let him make treble satisfaction.
- FIRST GOTH. Brave slip, sprung from the great Andronicus,
- Whose name was once our terror, now our comfort,
- Whose high exploits and honourable deeds
- Ingrateful Rome requites with foul contempt,
- Be bold in us: we'll follow where thou lead'st,
- Like stinging bees in hottest summer's day,
- Led by their master to the flow'red fields,
- And be aveng'd on cursed Tamora.
- ALL THE GOTHS. And as he saith, so say we all with him.
- LUCIUS. I humbly thank him, and I thank you all.
- But who comes here, led by a lusty Goth?
-
- Enter a GOTH, leading AARON with his CHILD in his arms
-
- SECOND GOTH. Renowned Lucius, from our troops I stray'd
- To gaze upon a ruinous monastery;
- And as I earnestly did fix mine eye
- Upon the wasted building, suddenly
- I heard a child cry underneath a wall.
- I made unto the noise, when soon I heard
- The crying babe controll'd with this discourse:
- 'Peace, tawny slave, half me and half thy dam!
- Did not thy hue bewray whose brat thou art,
- Had nature lent thee but thy mother's look,
- Villain, thou mightst have been an emperor;
- But where the bull and cow are both milk-white,
- They never do beget a coal-black calf.
- Peace, villain, peace!'- even thus he rates the babe-
- 'For I must bear thee to a trusty Goth,
- Who, when he knows thou art the Empress' babe,
- Will hold thee dearly for thy mother's sake.'
- With this, my weapon drawn, I rush'd upon him,
- Surpris'd him suddenly, and brought him hither
- To use as you think needful of the man.
- LUCIUS. O worthy Goth, this is the incarnate devil
- That robb'd Andronicus of his good hand;
- This is the pearl that pleas'd your Empress' eye;
- And here's the base fruit of her burning lust.
- Say, wall-ey'd slave, whither wouldst thou convey
- This growing image of thy fiend-like face?
- Why dost not speak? What, deaf? Not a word?
- A halter, soldiers! Hang him on this tree,
- And by his side his fruit of bastardy.
- AARON. Touch not the boy, he is of royal blood.
- LUCIUS. Too like the sire for ever being good.
- First hang the child, that he may see it sprawl-
- A sight to vex the father's soul withal.
- Get me a ladder.
- [A ladder brought, which AARON is made to climb]
- AARON. Lucius, save the child,
- And bear it from me to the Emperess.
- If thou do this, I'll show thee wondrous things
- That highly may advantage thee to hear;
- If thou wilt not, befall what may befall,
- I'll speak no more but 'Vengeance rot you all!'
- LUCIUS. Say on; an if it please me which thou speak'st,
- Thy child shall live, and I will see it nourish'd.
- AARON. An if it please thee! Why, assure thee, Lucius,
- 'Twill vex thy soul to hear what I shall speak;
- For I must talk of murders, rapes, and massacres,
- Acts of black night, abominable deeds,
- Complots of mischief, treason, villainies,
- Ruthful to hear, yet piteously perform'd;
- And this shall all be buried in my death,
- Unless thou swear to me my child shall live.
- LUCIUS. Tell on thy mind; I say thy child shall live.
- AARON. Swear that he shall, and then I will begin.
- LUCIUS. Who should I swear by? Thou believest no god;
- That granted, how canst thou believe an oath?
- AARON. What if I do not? as indeed I do not;
- Yet, for I know thou art religious
- And hast a thing within thee called conscience,
- With twenty popish tricks and ceremonies
- Which I have seen thee careful to observe,
- Therefore I urge thy oath. For that I know
- An idiot holds his bauble for a god,
- And keeps the oath which by that god he swears,
- To that I'll urge him. Therefore thou shalt vow
- By that same god- what god soe'er it be
- That thou adorest and hast in reverence-
- To save my boy, to nourish and bring him up;
- Or else I will discover nought to thee.
- LUCIUS. Even by my god I swear to thee I will.
- AARON. First know thou, I begot him on the Empress.
- LUCIUS. O most insatiate and luxurious woman!
- AARON. Tut, Lucius, this was but a deed of charity
- To that which thou shalt hear of me anon.
- 'Twas her two sons that murdered Bassianus;
- They cut thy sister's tongue, and ravish'd her,
- And cut her hands, and trimm'd her as thou sawest.
- LUCIUS. O detestable villain! Call'st thou that trimming?
- AARON. Why, she was wash'd, and cut, and trimm'd, and 'twas
- Trim sport for them which had the doing of it.
- LUCIUS. O barbarous beastly villains like thyself!
- AARON. Indeed, I was their tutor to instruct them.
- That codding spirit had they from their mother,
- As sure a card as ever won the set;
- That bloody mind, I think, they learn'd of me,
- As true a dog as ever fought at head.
- Well, let my deeds be witness of my worth.
- I train'd thy brethren to that guileful hole
- Where the dead corpse of Bassianus lay;
- I wrote the letter that thy father found,
- And hid the gold within that letter mention'd,
- Confederate with the Queen and her two sons;
- And what not done, that thou hast cause to rue,
- Wherein I had no stroke of mischief in it?
- I play'd the cheater for thy father's hand,
- And, when I had it, drew myself apart
- And almost broke my heart with extreme laughter.
- I pried me through the crevice of a wall,
- When, for his hand, he had his two sons' heads;
- Beheld his tears, and laugh'd so heartily
- That both mine eyes were rainy like to his;
- And when I told the Empress of this sport,
- She swooned almost at my pleasing tale,
- And for my tidings gave me twenty kisses.
- GOTH. What, canst thou say all this and never blush?
- AARON. Ay, like a black dog, as the saying is.
- LUCIUS. Art thou not sorry for these heinous deeds?
- AARON. Ay, that I had not done a thousand more.
- Even now I curse the day- and yet, I think,
- Few come within the compass of my curse-
- Wherein I did not some notorious ill;
- As kill a man, or else devise his death;
- Ravish a maid, or plot the way to do it;
- Accuse some innocent, and forswear myself;
- Set deadly enmity between two friends;
- Make poor men's cattle break their necks;
- Set fire on barns and hay-stacks in the night,
- And bid the owners quench them with their tears.
- Oft have I digg'd up dead men from their graves,
- And set them upright at their dear friends' door
- Even when their sorrows almost was forgot,
- And on their skins, as on the bark of trees,
- Have with my knife carved in Roman letters
- 'Let not your sorrow die, though I am dead.'
- Tut, I have done a thousand dreadful things
- As willingly as one would kill a fly;
- And nothing grieves me heartily indeed
- But that I cannot do ten thousand more.
- LUCIUS. Bring down the devil, for he must not die
- So sweet a death as hanging presently.
- AARON. If there be devils, would I were a devil,
- To live and burn in everlasting fire,
- So I might have your company in hell
- But to torment you with my bitter tongue!
- LUCIUS. Sirs, stop his mouth, and let him speak no more.
-
- Enter AEMILIUS
-
- GOTH. My lord, there is a messenger from Rome
- Desires to be admitted to your presence.
- LUCIUS. Let him come near.
- Welcome, Aemilius. What's the news from Rome?
- AEMILIUS. Lord Lucius, and you Princes of the Goths,
- The Roman Emperor greets you all by me;
- And, for he understands you are in arms,
- He craves a parley at your father's house,
- Willing you to demand your hostages,
- And they shall be immediately deliver'd.
- FIRST GOTH. What says our general?
- LUCIUS. Aemilius, let the Emperor give his pledges
- Unto my father and my uncle Marcus.
- And we will come. March away. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-Rome. Before TITUS' house
-
-Enter TAMORA, and her two sons, DEMETRIUS and CHIRON, disguised
-
- TAMORA. Thus, in this strange and sad habiliment,
- I will encounter with Andronicus,
- And say I am Revenge, sent from below
- To join with him and right his heinous wrongs.
- Knock at his study, where they say he keeps
- To ruminate strange plots of dire revenge;
- Tell him Revenge is come to join with him,
- And work confusion on his enemies.
-
- They knock and TITUS opens his study door, above
-
- TITUS. Who doth molest my contemplation?
- Is it your trick to make me ope the door,
- That so my sad decrees may fly away
- And all my study be to no effect?
- You are deceiv'd; for what I mean to do
- See here in bloody lines I have set down;
- And what is written shall be executed.
- TAMORA. Titus, I am come to talk with thee.
- TITUS. No, not a word. How can I grace my talk,
- Wanting a hand to give it that accord?
- Thou hast the odds of me; therefore no more.
- TAMORA. If thou didst know me, thou wouldst talk with me.
- TITUS. I am not mad, I know thee well enough:
- Witness this wretched stump, witness these crimson lines;
- Witness these trenches made by grief and care;
- Witness the tiring day and heavy night;
- Witness all sorrow that I know thee well
- For our proud Empress, mighty Tamora.
- Is not thy coming for my other hand?
- TAMORA. Know thou, sad man, I am not Tamora:
- She is thy enemy and I thy friend.
- I am Revenge, sent from th' infernal kingdom
- To ease the gnawing vulture of thy mind
- By working wreakful vengeance on thy foes.
- Come down and welcome me to this world's light;
- Confer with me of murder and of death;
- There's not a hollow cave or lurking-place,
- No vast obscurity or misty vale,
- Where bloody murder or detested rape
- Can couch for fear but I will find them out;
- And in their ears tell them my dreadful name-
- Revenge, which makes the foul offender quake.
- TITUS. Art thou Revenge? and art thou sent to me
- To be a torment to mine enemies?
- TAMORA. I am; therefore come down and welcome me.
- TITUS. Do me some service ere I come to thee.
- Lo, by thy side where Rape and Murder stands;
- Now give some surance that thou art Revenge-
- Stab them, or tear them on thy chariot wheels;
- And then I'll come and be thy waggoner
- And whirl along with thee about the globes.
- Provide thee two proper palfreys, black as jet,
- To hale thy vengeful waggon swift away,
- And find out murderers in their guilty caves;
- And when thy car is loaden with their heads,
- I will dismount, and by thy waggon wheel
- Trot, like a servile footman, all day long,
- Even from Hyperion's rising in the east
- Until his very downfall in the sea.
- And day by day I'll do this heavy task,
- So thou destroy Rapine and Murder there.
- TAMORA. These are my ministers, and come with me.
- TITUS. Are they thy ministers? What are they call'd?
- TAMORA. Rape and Murder; therefore called so
- 'Cause they take vengeance of such kind of men.
- TITUS. Good Lord, how like the Empress' sons they are!
- And you the Empress! But we worldly men
- Have miserable, mad, mistaking eyes.
- O sweet Revenge, now do I come to thee;
- And, if one arm's embracement will content thee,
- I will embrace thee in it by and by.
- TAMORA. This closing with him fits his lunacy.
- Whate'er I forge to feed his brain-sick humours,
- Do you uphold and maintain in your speeches,
- For now he firmly takes me for Revenge;
- And, being credulous in this mad thought,
- I'll make him send for Lucius his son,
- And whilst I at a banquet hold him sure,
- I'll find some cunning practice out of hand
- To scatter and disperse the giddy Goths,
- Or, at the least, make them his enemies.
- See, here he comes, and I must ply my theme.
-
- Enter TITUS, below
-
- TITUS. Long have I been forlorn, and all for thee.
- Welcome, dread Fury, to my woeful house.
- Rapine and Murder, you are welcome too.
- How like the Empress and her sons you are!
- Well are you fitted, had you but a Moor.
- Could not all hell afford you such a devil?
- For well I wot the Empress never wags
- But in her company there is a Moor;
- And, would you represent our queen aright,
- It were convenient you had such a devil.
- But welcome as you are. What shall we do?
- TAMORA. What wouldst thou have us do, Andronicus?
- DEMETRIUS. Show me a murderer, I'll deal with him.
- CHIRON. Show me a villain that hath done a rape,
- And I am sent to be reveng'd on him.
- TAMORA. Show me a thousand that hath done thee wrong,
- And I will be revenged on them all.
- TITUS. Look round about the wicked streets of Rome,
- And when thou find'st a man that's like thyself,
- Good Murder, stab him; he's a murderer.
- Go thou with him, and when it is thy hap
- To find another that is like to thee,
- Good Rapine, stab him; he is a ravisher.
- Go thou with them; and in the Emperor's court
- There is a queen, attended by a Moor;
- Well shalt thou know her by thine own proportion,
- For up and down she doth resemble thee.
- I pray thee, do on them some violent death;
- They have been violent to me and mine.
- TAMORA. Well hast thou lesson'd us; this shall we do.
- But would it please thee, good Andronicus,
- To send for Lucius, thy thrice-valiant son,
- Who leads towards Rome a band of warlike Goths,
- And bid him come and banquet at thy house;
- When he is here, even at thy solemn feast,
- I will bring in the Empress and her sons,
- The Emperor himself, and all thy foes;
- And at thy mercy shall they stoop and kneel,
- And on them shalt thou ease thy angry heart.
- What says Andronicus to this device?
- TITUS. Marcus, my brother! 'Tis sad Titus calls.
-
- Enter MARCUS
-
- Go, gentle Marcus, to thy nephew Lucius;
- Thou shalt inquire him out among the Goths.
- Bid him repair to me, and bring with him
- Some of the chiefest princes of the Goths;
- Bid him encamp his soldiers where they are.
- Tell him the Emperor and the Empress too
- Feast at my house, and he shall feast with them.
- This do thou for my love; and so let him,
- As he regards his aged father's life.
- MARCUS. This will I do, and soon return again. Exit
- TAMORA. Now will I hence about thy business,
- And take my ministers along with me.
- TITUS. Nay, nay, let Rape and Murder stay with me,
- Or else I'll call my brother back again,
- And cleave to no revenge but Lucius.
- TAMORA. [Aside to her sons] What say you, boys? Will you abide
- with him,
- Whiles I go tell my lord the Emperor
- How I have govern'd our determin'd jest?
- Yield to his humour, smooth and speak him fair,
- And tarry with him till I turn again.
- TITUS. [Aside] I knew them all, though they suppos'd me mad,
- And will o'er reach them in their own devices,
- A pair of cursed hell-hounds and their dam.
- DEMETRIUS. Madam, depart at pleasure; leave us here.
- TAMORA. Farewell, Andronicus, Revenge now goes
- To lay a complot to betray thy foes.
- TITUS. I know thou dost; and, sweet Revenge, farewell.
- Exit TAMORA
- CHIRON. Tell us, old man, how shall we be employ'd?
- TITUS. Tut, I have work enough for you to do.
- Publius, come hither, Caius, and Valentine.
-
- Enter PUBLIUS, CAIUS, and VALENTINE
-
- PUBLIUS. What is your will?
- TITUS. Know you these two?
- PUBLIUS. The Empress' sons, I take them: Chiron, Demetrius.
- TITUS. Fie, Publius, fie! thou art too much deceiv'd.
- The one is Murder, and Rape is the other's name;
- And therefore bind them, gentle Publius-
- Caius and Valentine, lay hands on them.
- Oft have you heard me wish for such an hour,
- And now I find it; therefore bind them sure,
- And stop their mouths if they begin to cry. Exit
- [They lay hold on CHIRON and DEMETRIUS]
- CHIRON. Villains, forbear! we are the Empress' sons.
- PUBLIUS. And therefore do we what we are commanded.
- Stop close their mouths, let them not speak a word.
- Is he sure bound? Look that you bind them fast.
-
- Re-enter TITUS ANDRONICUS
- with a knife, and LAVINIA, with a basin
-
- TITUS. Come, come, Lavinia; look, thy foes are bound.
- Sirs, stop their mouths, let them not speak to me;
- But let them hear what fearful words I utter.
- O villains, Chiron and Demetrius!
- Here stands the spring whom you have stain'd with mud;
- This goodly summer with your winter mix'd.
- You kill'd her husband; and for that vile fault
- Two of her brothers were condemn'd to death,
- My hand cut off and made a merry jest;
- Both her sweet hands, her tongue, and that more dear
- Than hands or tongue, her spotless chastity,
- Inhuman traitors, you constrain'd and forc'd.
- What would you say, if I should let you speak?
- Villains, for shame you could not beg for grace.
- Hark, wretches! how I mean to martyr you.
- This one hand yet is left to cut your throats,
- Whiles that Lavinia 'tween her stumps doth hold
- The basin that receives your guilty blood.
- You know your mother means to feast with me,
- And calls herself Revenge, and thinks me mad.
- Hark, villains! I will grind your bones to dust,
- And with your blood and it I'll make a paste;
- And of the paste a coffin I will rear,
- And make two pasties of your shameful heads;
- And bid that strumpet, your unhallowed dam,
- Like to the earth, swallow her own increase.
- This is the feast that I have bid her to,
- And this the banquet she shall surfeit on;
- For worse than Philomel you us'd my daughter,
- And worse than Progne I will be reveng'd.
- And now prepare your throats. Lavinia, come,
- Receive the blood; and when that they are dead,
- Let me go grind their bones to powder small,
- And with this hateful liquor temper it;
- And in that paste let their vile heads be bak'd.
- Come, come, be every one officious
- To make this banquet, which I wish may prove
- More stern and bloody than the Centaurs' feast.
- [He cuts their throats]
- So.
- Now bring them in, for I will play the cook,
- And see them ready against their mother comes.
- Exeunt, bearing the dead bodies
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-The court of TITUS' house
-
-Enter Lucius, MARCUS, and the GOTHS, with AARON prisoner,
-and his CHILD in the arms of an attendant
-
- LUCIUS. Uncle Marcus, since 'tis my father's mind
- That I repair to Rome, I am content.
- FIRST GOTH. And ours with thine, befall what fortune will.
- LUCIUS. Good uncle, take you in this barbarous Moor,
- This ravenous tiger, this accursed devil;
- Let him receive no sust'nance, fetter him,
- Till he be brought unto the Empress' face
- For testimony of her foul proceedings.
- And see the ambush of our friends be strong;
- I fear the Emperor means no good to us.
- AARON. Some devil whisper curses in my ear,
- And prompt me that my tongue may utter forth
- The venomous malice of my swelling heart!
- LUCIUS. Away, inhuman dog, unhallowed slave!
- Sirs, help our uncle to convey him in.
- Exeunt GOTHS with AARON. Flourish within
- The trumpets show the Emperor is at hand.
-
- Sound trumpets. Enter SATURNINUS and
- TAMORA, with AEMILIUS, TRIBUNES, SENATORS, and others
-
- SATURNINUS. What, hath the firmament more suns than one?
- LUCIUS. What boots it thee to can thyself a sun?
- MARCUS. Rome's Emperor, and nephew, break the parle;
- These quarrels must be quietly debated.
- The feast is ready which the careful Titus
- Hath ordain'd to an honourable end,
- For peace, for love, for league, and good to Rome.
- Please you, therefore, draw nigh and take your places.
- SATURNINUS. Marcus, we will.
- [A table brought in. The company sit down]
-
- Trumpets sounding, enter TITUS
- like a cook, placing the dishes, and LAVINIA
- with a veil over her face; also YOUNG LUCIUS, and others
-
- TITUS. Welcome, my lord; welcome, dread Queen;
- Welcome, ye warlike Goths; welcome, Lucius;
- And welcome all. Although the cheer be poor,
- 'Twill fill your stomachs; please you eat of it.
- SATURNINUS. Why art thou thus attir'd, Andronicus?
- TITUS. Because I would be sure to have all well
- To entertain your Highness and your Empress.
- TAMORA. We are beholding to you, good Andronicus.
- TITUS. An if your Highness knew my heart, you were.
- My lord the Emperor, resolve me this:
- Was it well done of rash Virginius
- To slay his daughter with his own right hand,
- Because she was enforc'd, stain'd, and deflower'd?
- SATURNINUS. It was, Andronicus.
- TITUS. Your reason, mighty lord.
- SATURNINUS. Because the girl should not survive her shame,
- And by her presence still renew his sorrows.
- TITUS. A reason mighty, strong, and effectual;
- A pattern, precedent, and lively warrant
- For me, most wretched, to perform the like.
- Die, die, Lavinia, and thy shame with thee; [He kills her]
- And with thy shame thy father's sorrow die!
- SATURNINUS. What hast thou done, unnatural and unkind?
- TITUS. Kill'd her for whom my tears have made me blind.
- I am as woeful as Virginius was,
- And have a thousand times more cause than he
- To do this outrage; and it now is done.
- SATURNINUS. What, was she ravish'd? Tell who did the deed.
- TITUS. Will't please you eat? Will't please your Highness feed?
- TAMORA. Why hast thou slain thine only daughter thus?
- TITUS. Not I; 'twas Chiron and Demetrius.
- They ravish'd her, and cut away her tongue;
- And they, 'twas they, that did her all this wrong.
- SATURNINUS. Go, fetch them hither to us presently.
- TITUS. Why, there they are, both baked in this pie,
- Whereof their mother daintily hath fed,
- Eating the flesh that she herself hath bred.
- 'Tis true, 'tis true: witness my knife's sharp point.
- [He stabs the EMPRESS]
- SATURNINUS. Die, frantic wretch, for this accursed deed!
- [He stabs TITUS]
- LUCIUS. Can the son's eye behold his father bleed?
- There's meed for meed, death for a deadly deed.
- [He stabs SATURNINUS. A great tumult. LUCIUS,
- MARCUS, and their friends go up into the balcony]
- MARCUS. You sad-fac'd men, people and sons of Rome,
- By uproars sever'd, as a flight of fowl
- Scatter'd by winds and high tempestuous gusts?
- O, let me teach you how to knit again
- This scattered corn into one mutual sheaf,
- These broken limbs again into one body;
- Lest Rome herself be bane unto herself,
- And she whom mighty kingdoms curtsy to,
- Like a forlorn and desperate castaway,
- Do shameful execution on herself.
- But if my frosty signs and chaps of age,
- Grave witnesses of true experience,
- Cannot induce you to attend my words,
- [To Lucius] Speak, Rome's dear friend, as erst our ancestor,
- When with his solemn tongue he did discourse
- To love-sick Dido's sad attending ear
- The story of that baleful burning night,
- When subtle Greeks surpris'd King Priam's Troy.
- Tell us what Sinon hath bewitch'd our ears,
- Or who hath brought the fatal engine in
- That gives our Troy, our Rome, the civil wound.
- My heart is not compact of flint nor steel;
- Nor can I utter all our bitter grief,
- But floods of tears will drown my oratory
- And break my utt'rance, even in the time
- When it should move ye to attend me most,
- And force you to commiseration.
- Here's Rome's young Captain, let him tell the tale;
- While I stand by and weep to hear him speak.
- LUCIUS. Then, gracious auditory, be it known to you
- That Chiron and the damn'd Demetrius
- Were they that murd'red our Emperor's brother;
- And they it were that ravished our sister.
- For their fell faults our brothers were beheaded,
- Our father's tears despis'd, and basely cozen'd
- Of that true hand that fought Rome's quarrel out
- And sent her enemies unto the grave.
- Lastly, myself unkindly banished,
- The gates shut on me, and turn'd weeping out,
- To beg relief among Rome's enemies;
- Who drown'd their enmity in my true tears,
- And op'd their arms to embrace me as a friend.
- I am the turned forth, be it known to you,
- That have preserv'd her welfare in my blood
- And from her bosom took the enemy's point,
- Sheathing the steel in my advent'rous body.
- Alas! you know I am no vaunter, I;
- My scars can witness, dumb although they are,
- That my report is just and full of truth.
- But, soft! methinks I do digress too much,
- Citing my worthless praise. O, pardon me!
- For when no friends are by, men praise themselves.
- MARCUS. Now is my turn to speak. Behold the child.
- [Pointing to the CHILD in an attendant's arms]
- Of this was Tamora delivered,
- The issue of an irreligious Moor,
- Chief architect and plotter of these woes.
- The villain is alive in Titus' house,
- Damn'd as he is, to witness this is true.
- Now judge what cause had Titus to revenge
- These wrongs unspeakable, past patience,
- Or more than any living man could bear.
- Now have you heard the truth: what say you, Romans?
- Have we done aught amiss, show us wherein,
- And, from the place where you behold us pleading,
- The poor remainder of Andronici
- Will, hand in hand, all headlong hurl ourselves,
- And on the ragged stones beat forth our souls,
- And make a mutual closure of our house.
- Speak, Romans, speak; and if you say we shall,
- Lo, hand in hand, Lucius and I will fall.
- AEMILIUS. Come, come, thou reverend man of Rome,
- And bring our Emperor gently in thy hand,
- Lucius our Emperor; for well I know
- The common voice do cry it shall be so.
- ALL. Lucius, all hail, Rome's royal Emperor!
- MARCUS. Go, go into old Titus' sorrowful house,
- And hither hale that misbelieving Moor
- To be adjudg'd some direful slaught'ring death,
- As punishment for his most wicked life. Exeunt some
- attendants. LUCIUS, MARCUS, and the others descend
- ALL. Lucius, all hail, Rome's gracious governor!
- LUCIUS. Thanks, gentle Romans! May I govern so
- To heal Rome's harms and wipe away her woe!
- But, gentle people, give me aim awhile,
- For nature puts me to a heavy task.
- Stand all aloof; but, uncle, draw you near
- To shed obsequious tears upon this trunk.
- O, take this warm kiss on thy pale cold lips. [Kisses TITUS]
- These sorrowful drops upon thy blood-stain'd face,
- The last true duties of thy noble son!
- MARCUS. Tear for tear and loving kiss for kiss
- Thy brother Marcus tenders on thy lips.
- O, were the sum of these that I should pay
- Countless and infinite, yet would I pay them!
- LUCIUS. Come hither, boy; come, come, come, and learn of us
- To melt in showers. Thy grandsire lov'd thee well;
- Many a time he danc'd thee on his knee,
- Sung thee asleep, his loving breast thy pillow;
- Many a story hath he told to thee,
- And bid thee bear his pretty tales in mind
- And talk of them when he was dead and gone.
- MARCUS. How many thousand times hath these poor lips,
- When they were living, warm'd themselves on thine!
- O, now, sweet boy, give them their latest kiss!
- Bid him farewell; commit him to the grave;
- Do them that kindness, and take leave of them.
- BOY. O grandsire, grandsire! ev'n with all my heart
- Would I were dead, so you did live again!
- O Lord, I cannot speak to him for weeping;
- My tears will choke me, if I ope my mouth.
-
- Re-enter attendants with AARON
-
- A ROMAN. You sad Andronici, have done with woes;
- Give sentence on the execrable wretch
- That hath been breeder of these dire events.
- LUCIUS. Set him breast-deep in earth, and famish him;
- There let him stand and rave and cry for food.
- If any one relieves or pities him,
- For the offence he dies. This is our doom.
- Some stay to see him fast'ned in the earth.
- AARON. Ah, why should wrath be mute and fury dumb?
- I am no baby, I, that with base prayers
- I should repent the evils I have done;
- Ten thousand worse than ever yet I did
- Would I perform, if I might have my will.
- If one good deed in all my life I did,
- I do repent it from my very soul.
- LUCIUS. Some loving friends convey the Emperor hence,
- And give him burial in his father's grave.
- My father and Lavinia shall forthwith
- Be closed in our household's monument.
- As for that ravenous tiger, Tamora,
- No funeral rite, nor man in mourning weed,
- No mournful bell shall ring her burial;
- But throw her forth to beasts and birds to prey.
- Her life was beastly and devoid of pity,
- And being dead, let birds on her take pity. Exeunt
-
-THE END
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-
-
-1602
-
-THE HISTORY OF TROILUS AND CRESSIDA
-
-by William Shakespeare
-
-
-DRAMATIS PERSONAE
-
- PRIAM, King of Troy
-
- His sons:
- HECTOR
- TROILUS
- PARIS
- DEIPHOBUS
- HELENUS
-
- MARGARELON, a bastard son of Priam
-
- Trojan commanders:
- AENEAS
- ANTENOR
-
- CALCHAS, a Trojan priest, taking part with the Greeks
- PANDARUS, uncle to Cressida
- AGAMEMNON, the Greek general
- MENELAUS, his brother
-
- Greek commanders:
- ACHILLES
- AJAX
- ULYSSES
- NESTOR
- DIOMEDES
- PATROCLUS
-
- THERSITES, a deformed and scurrilous Greek
- ALEXANDER, servant to Cressida
- SERVANT to Troilus
- SERVANT to Paris
- SERVANT to Diomedes
-
- HELEN, wife to Menelaus
- ANDROMACHE, wife to Hector
- CASSANDRA, daughter to Priam, a prophetess
- CRESSIDA, daughter to Calchas
-
- Trojan and Greek Soldiers, and Attendants
-
- SCENE:
- Troy and the Greek camp before it
-
-PROLOGUE
- TROILUS AND CRESSIDA
- PROLOGUE
-
- In Troy, there lies the scene. From isles of Greece
- The princes orgillous, their high blood chaf'd,
- Have to the port of Athens sent their ships
- Fraught with the ministers and instruments
- Of cruel war. Sixty and nine that wore
- Their crownets regal from th' Athenian bay
- Put forth toward Phrygia; and their vow is made
- To ransack Troy, within whose strong immures
- The ravish'd Helen, Menelaus' queen,
- With wanton Paris sleeps-and that's the quarrel.
- To Tenedos they come,
- And the deep-drawing barks do there disgorge
- Their war-like fraughtage. Now on Dardan plains
- The fresh and yet unbruised Greeks do pitch
- Their brave pavilions: Priam's six-gated city,
- Dardan, and Tymbria, Helias, Chetas, Troien,
- And Antenorides, with massy staples
- And corresponsive and fulfilling bolts,
- Sperr up the sons of Troy.
- Now expectation, tickling skittish spirits
- On one and other side, Troyan and Greek,
- Sets all on hazard-and hither am I come
- A Prologue arm'd, but not in confidence
- Of author's pen or actor's voice, but suited
- In like conditions as our argument,
- To tell you, fair beholders, that our play
- Leaps o'er the vaunt and firstlings of those broils,
- Beginning in the middle; starting thence away,
- To what may be digested in a play.
- Like or find fault; do as your pleasures are;
- Now good or bad, 'tis but the chance of war.
-
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-ACT I. SCENE 1.
-Troy. Before PRIAM'S palace
-
-Enter TROILUS armed, and PANDARUS
-
- TROILUS. Call here my varlet; I'll unarm again.
- Why should I war without the walls of Troy
- That find such cruel battle here within?
- Each Troyan that is master of his heart,
- Let him to field; Troilus, alas, hath none!
- PANDARUS. Will this gear ne'er be mended?
- TROILUS. The Greeks are strong, and skilful to their strength,
- Fierce to their skill, and to their fierceness valiant;
- But I am weaker than a woman's tear,
- Tamer than sleep, fonder than ignorance,
- Less valiant than the virgin in the night,
- And skilless as unpractis'd infancy.
- PANDARUS. Well, I have told you enough of this; for my part,
- I'll not meddle nor make no farther. He that will have a cake
- out of the wheat must needs tarry the grinding.
- TROILUS. Have I not tarried?
- PANDARUS. Ay, the grinding; but you must tarry the bolting.
- TROILUS. Have I not tarried?
- PANDARUS. Ay, the bolting; but you must tarry the leavening.
- TROILUS. Still have I tarried.
- PANDARUS. Ay, to the leavening; but here's yet in the word
- 'hereafter' the kneading, the making of the cake, the heating
- of the oven, and the baking; nay, you must stay the cooling too,
- or you may chance to burn your lips.
- TROILUS. Patience herself, what goddess e'er she be,
- Doth lesser blench at suff'rance than I do.
- At Priam's royal table do I sit;
- And when fair Cressid comes into my thoughts-
- So, traitor, then she comes when she is thence.
- PANDARUS. Well, she look'd yesternight fairer than ever I saw her
- look, or any woman else.
- TROILUS. I was about to tell thee: when my heart,
- As wedged with a sigh, would rive in twain,
- Lest Hector or my father should perceive me,
- I have, as when the sun doth light a storm,
- Buried this sigh in wrinkle of a smile.
- But sorrow that is couch'd in seeming gladness
- Is like that mirth fate turns to sudden sadness.
- PANDARUS. An her hair were not somewhat darker than Helen's- well,
- go to- there were no more comparison between the women. But, for
- my part, she is my kinswoman; I would not, as they term it,
- praise her, but I would somebody had heard her talk yesterday, as
- I did. I will not dispraise your sister Cassandra's wit; but-
- TROILUS. O Pandarus! I tell thee, Pandarus-
- When I do tell thee there my hopes lie drown'd,
- Reply not in how many fathoms deep
- They lie indrench'd. I tell thee I am mad
- In Cressid's love. Thou answer'st 'She is fair'-
- Pourest in the open ulcer of my heart-
- Her eyes, her hair, her cheek, her gait, her voice,
- Handlest in thy discourse. O, that her hand,
- In whose comparison all whites are ink
- Writing their own reproach; to whose soft seizure
- The cygnet's down is harsh, and spirit of sense
- Hard as the palm of ploughman! This thou tell'st me,
- As true thou tell'st me, when I say I love her;
- But, saying thus, instead of oil and balm,
- Thou lay'st in every gash that love hath given me
- The knife that made it.
- PANDARUS. I speak no more than truth.
- TROILUS. Thou dost not speak so much.
- PANDARUS. Faith, I'll not meddle in it. Let her be as she is: if
- she be fair, 'tis the better for her; an she be not, she has the
- mends in her own hands.
- TROILUS. Good Pandarus! How now, Pandarus!
- PANDARUS. I have had my labour for my travail, ill thought on of
- her and ill thought on of you; gone between and between, but
- small thanks for my labour.
- TROILUS. What, art thou angry, Pandarus? What, with me?
- PANDARUS. Because she's kin to me, therefore she's not so fair as
- Helen. An she were not kin to me, she would be as fair a Friday
- as Helen is on Sunday. But what care I? I care not an she were a
- blackamoor; 'tis all one to me.
- TROILUS. Say I she is not fair?
- PANDARUS. I do not care whether you do or no. She's a fool to stay
- behind her father. Let her to the Greeks; and so I'll tell her
- the next time I see her. For my part, I'll meddle nor make no
- more i' th' matter.
- TROILUS. Pandarus!
- PANDARUS. Not I.
- TROILUS. Sweet Pandarus!
- PANDARUS. Pray you, speak no more to me: I will leave all
- as I found it, and there an end. Exit. Sound alarum
- TROILUS. Peace, you ungracious clamours! Peace, rude sounds!
- Fools on both sides! Helen must needs be fair,
- When with your blood you daily paint her thus.
- I cannot fight upon this argument;
- It is too starv'd a subject for my sword.
- But Pandarus-O gods, how do you plague me!
- I cannot come to Cressid but by Pandar;
- And he's as tetchy to be woo'd to woo
- As she is stubborn-chaste against all suit.
- Tell me, Apollo, for thy Daphne's love,
- What Cressid is, what Pandar, and what we?
- Her bed is India; there she lies, a pearl;
- Between our Ilium and where she resides
- Let it be call'd the wild and wand'ring flood;
- Ourself the merchant, and this sailing Pandar
- Our doubtful hope, our convoy, and our bark.
-
- Alarum. Enter AENEAS
-
- AENEAS. How now, Prince Troilus! Wherefore not afield?
- TROILUS. Because not there. This woman's answer sorts,
- For womanish it is to be from thence.
- What news, Aeneas, from the field to-day?
- AENEAS. That Paris is returned home, and hurt.
- TROILUS. By whom, Aeneas?
- AENEAS. Troilus, by Menelaus.
- TROILUS. Let Paris bleed: 'tis but a scar to scorn;
- Paris is gor'd with Menelaus' horn. [Alarum]
- AENEAS. Hark what good sport is out of town to-day!
- TROILUS. Better at home, if 'would I might' were 'may.'
- But to the sport abroad. Are you bound thither?
- AENEAS. In all swift haste.
- TROILUS. Come, go we then together. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-ACT I. SCENE 2.
-Troy. A street
-
-Enter CRESSIDA and her man ALEXANDER
-
- CRESSIDA. Who were those went by?
- ALEXANDER. Queen Hecuba and Helen.
- CRESSIDA. And whither go they?
- ALEXANDER. Up to the eastern tower,
- Whose height commands as subject all the vale,
- To see the battle. Hector, whose patience
- Is as a virtue fix'd, to-day was mov'd.
- He chid Andromache, and struck his armourer;
- And, like as there were husbandry in war,
- Before the sun rose he was harness'd light,
- And to the field goes he; where every flower
- Did as a prophet weep what it foresaw
- In Hector's wrath.
- CRESSIDA. What was his cause of anger?
- ALEXANDER. The noise goes, this: there is among the Greeks
- A lord of Troyan blood, nephew to Hector;
- They call him Ajax.
- CRESSIDA. Good; and what of him?
- ALEXANDER. They say he is a very man per se,
- And stands alone.
- CRESSIDA. So do all men, unless they are drunk, sick, or have no
- legs.
- ALEXANDER. This man, lady, hath robb'd many beasts of their
- particular additions: he is as valiant as a lion, churlish as the
- bear, slow as the elephant-a man into whom nature hath so crowded
- humours that his valour is crush'd into folly, his folly sauced
- with discretion. There is no man hath a virtue that he hath not a
- glimpse of, nor any man an attaint but he carries some stain of
- it; he is melancholy without cause and merry against the hair; he
- hath the joints of every thing; but everything so out of joint
- that he is a gouty Briareus, many hands and no use, or purblind
- Argus, all eyes and no sight.
- CRESSIDA. But how should this man, that makes me smile, make Hector
- angry?
- ALEXANDER. They say he yesterday cop'd Hector in the battle and
- struck him down, the disdain and shame whereof hath ever since
- kept Hector fasting and waking.
-
- Enter PANDARUS
-
- CRESSIDA. Who comes here?
- ALEXANDER. Madam, your uncle Pandarus.
- CRESSIDA. Hector's a gallant man.
- ALEXANDER. As may be in the world, lady.
- PANDARUS. What's that? What's that?
- CRESSIDA. Good morrow, uncle Pandarus.
- PANDARUS. Good morrow, cousin Cressid. What do you talk of?- Good
- morrow, Alexander.-How do you, cousin? When were you at Ilium?
- CRESSIDA. This morning, uncle.
- PANDARUS. What were you talking of when I came? Was Hector arm'd
- and gone ere you came to Ilium? Helen was not up, was she?
- CRESSIDA. Hector was gone; but Helen was not up.
- PANDARUS. E'en so. Hector was stirring early.
- CRESSIDA. That were we talking of, and of his anger.
- PANDARUS. Was he angry?
- CRESSIDA. So he says here.
- PANDARUS. True, he was so; I know the cause too; he'll lay about
- him today, I can tell them that. And there's Troilus will not
- come far behind him; let them take heed of Troilus, I can tell
- them that too.
- CRESSIDA. What, is he angry too?
- PANDARUS. Who, Troilus? Troilus is the better man of the two.
- CRESSIDA. O Jupiter! there's no comparison.
- PANDARUS. What, not between Troilus and Hector? Do you know a man
- if you see him?
- CRESSIDA. Ay, if I ever saw him before and knew him.
- PANDARUS. Well, I say Troilus is Troilus.
- CRESSIDA. Then you say as I say, for I am sure he is not Hector.
- PANDARUS. No, nor Hector is not Troilus in some degrees.
- CRESSIDA. 'Tis just to each of them: he is himself.
- PANDARUS. Himself! Alas, poor Troilus! I would he were!
- CRESSIDA. So he is.
- PANDARUS. Condition I had gone barefoot to India.
- CRESSIDA. He is not Hector.
- PANDARUS. Himself! no, he's not himself. Would 'a were himself!
- Well, the gods are above; time must friend or end. Well, Troilus,
- well! I would my heart were in her body! No, Hector is not a
- better man than Troilus.
- CRESSIDA. Excuse me.
- PANDARUS. He is elder.
- CRESSIDA. Pardon me, pardon me.
- PANDARUS. Th' other's not come to't; you shall tell me another tale
- when th' other's come to't. Hector shall not have his wit this
- year.
- CRESSIDA. He shall not need it if he have his own.
- PANDARUS. Nor his qualities.
- CRESSIDA. No matter.
- PANDARUS. Nor his beauty.
- CRESSIDA. 'Twould not become him: his own's better.
- PANDARUS. YOU have no judgment, niece. Helen herself swore th'
- other day that Troilus, for a brown favour, for so 'tis, I must
- confess- not brown neither-
- CRESSIDA. No, but brown.
- PANDARUS. Faith, to say truth, brown and not brown.
- CRESSIDA. To say the truth, true and not true.
- PANDARUS. She prais'd his complexion above Paris.
- CRESSIDA. Why, Paris hath colour enough.
- PANDARUS. So he has.
- CRESSIDA. Then Troilus should have too much. If she prais'd him
- above, his complexion is higher than his; he having colour
- enough, and the other higher, is too flaming praise for a good
- complexion. I had as lief Helen's golden tongue had commended
- Troilus for a copper nose.
- PANDARUS. I swear to you I think Helen loves him better than Paris.
- CRESSIDA. Then she's a merry Greek indeed.
- PANDARUS. Nay, I am sure she does. She came to him th' other day
- into the compass'd window-and you know he has not past three or
- four hairs on his chin-
- CRESSIDA. Indeed a tapster's arithmetic may soon bring his
- particulars therein to a total.
- PANDARUS. Why, he is very young, and yet will he within three pound
- lift as much as his brother Hector.
- CRESSIDA. Is he so young a man and so old a lifter?
- PANDARUS. But to prove to you that Helen loves him: she came and
- puts me her white hand to his cloven chin-
- CRESSIDA. Juno have mercy! How came it cloven?
- PANDARUS. Why, you know, 'tis dimpled. I think his smiling becomes
- him better than any man in all Phrygia.
- CRESSIDA. O, he smiles valiantly!
- PANDARUS. Does he not?
- CRESSIDA. O yes, an 'twere a cloud in autumn!
- PANDARUS. Why, go to, then! But to prove to you that Helen loves
- Troilus-
- CRESSIDA. Troilus will stand to the proof, if you'll prove it so.
- PANDARUS. Troilus! Why, he esteems her no more than I esteem an
- addle egg.
- CRESSIDA. If you love an addle egg as well as you love an idle
- head, you would eat chickens i' th' shell.
- PANDARUS. I cannot choose but laugh to think how she tickled his
- chin. Indeed, she has a marvell's white hand, I must needs
- confess.
- CRESSIDA. Without the rack.
- PANDARUS. And she takes upon her to spy a white hair on his chin.
- CRESSIDA. Alas, poor chin! Many a wart is richer.
- PANDARUS. But there was such laughing! Queen Hecuba laugh'd that
- her eyes ran o'er.
- CRESSIDA. With millstones.
- PANDARUS. And Cassandra laugh'd.
- CRESSIDA. But there was a more temperate fire under the pot of her
- eyes. Did her eyes run o'er too?
- PANDARUS. And Hector laugh'd.
- CRESSIDA. At what was all this laughing?
- PANDARUS. Marry, at the white hair that Helen spied on Troilus'
- chin.
- CRESSIDA. An't had been a green hair I should have laugh'd too.
- PANDARUS. They laugh'd not so much at the hair as at his pretty
- answer.
- CRESSIDA. What was his answer?
- PANDARUS. Quoth she 'Here's but two and fifty hairs on your chin,
- and one of them is white.'
- CRESSIDA. This is her question.
- PANDARUS. That's true; make no question of that. 'Two and fifty
- hairs,' quoth he 'and one white. That white hair is my father,
- and all the rest are his sons.' 'Jupiter!' quoth she 'which of
- these hairs is Paris my husband?' 'The forked one,' quoth he,
- 'pluck't out and give it him.' But there was such laughing! and
- Helen so blush'd, and Paris so chaf'd; and all the rest so
- laugh'd that it pass'd.
- CRESSIDA. So let it now; for it has been a great while going by.
- PANDARUS. Well, cousin, I told you a thing yesterday; think on't.
- CRESSIDA. So I do.
- PANDARUS. I'll be sworn 'tis true; he will weep you, and 'twere a
- man born in April.
- CRESSIDA. And I'll spring up in his tears, an 'twere a nettle
- against May. [Sound a retreat]
- PANDARUS. Hark! they are coming from the field. Shall we stand up
- here and see them as they pass toward Ilium? Good niece, do,
- sweet niece Cressida.
- CRESSIDA. At your pleasure.
- PANDARUS. Here, here, here's an excellent place; here we may see
- most bravely. I'll tell you them all by their names as they pass
- by; but mark Troilus above the rest.
-
- AENEAS passes
-
- CRESSIDA. Speak not so loud.
- PANDARUS. That's Aeneas. Is not that a brave man? He's one of the
- flowers of Troy, I can tell you. But mark Troilus; you shall see
- anon.
-
- ANTENOR passes
-
- CRESSIDA. Who's that?
- PANDARUS. That's Antenor. He has a shrewd wit, I can tell you; and
- he's a man good enough; he's one o' th' soundest judgments in
- Troy, whosoever, and a proper man of person. When comes Troilus?
- I'll show you Troilus anon. If he see me, you shall see him nod
- at me.
- CRESSIDA. Will he give you the nod?
- PANDARUS. You shall see.
- CRESSIDA. If he do, the rich shall have more.
-
- HECTOR passes
-
- PANDARUS. That's Hector, that, that, look you, that; there's a
- fellow! Go thy way, Hector! There's a brave man, niece. O brave
- Hector! Look how he looks. There's a countenance! Is't not a
- brave man?
- CRESSIDA. O, a brave man!
- PANDARUS. Is 'a not? It does a man's heart good. Look you what
- hacks are on his helmet! Look you yonder, do you see? Look you
- there. There's no jesting; there's laying on; take't off who
- will, as they say. There be hacks.
- CRESSIDA. Be those with swords?
- PANDARUS. Swords! anything, he cares not; an the devil come to him,
- it's all one. By God's lid, it does one's heart good. Yonder
- comes Paris, yonder comes Paris.
-
- PARIS passes
-
- Look ye yonder, niece; is't not a gallant man too, is't not? Why,
- this is brave now. Who said he came hurt home to-day? He's not
- hurt. Why, this will do Helen's heart good now, ha! Would I could
- see Troilus now! You shall see Troilus anon.
-
- HELENUS passes
-
- CRESSIDA. Who's that?
- PANDARUS. That's Helenus. I marvel where Troilus is. That's
- Helenus. I think he went not forth to-day. That's Helenus.
- CRESSIDA. Can Helenus fight, uncle?
- PANDARUS. Helenus! no. Yes, he'll fight indifferent well. I marvel
- where Troilus is. Hark! do you not hear the people cry 'Troilus'?
- Helenus is a priest.
- CRESSIDA. What sneaking fellow comes yonder?
-
- TROILUS passes
-
- PANDARUS. Where? yonder? That's Deiphobus. 'Tis Troilus. There's a
- man, niece. Hem! Brave Troilus, the prince of chivalry!
- CRESSIDA. Peace, for shame, peace!
- PANDARUS. Mark him; note him. O brave Troilus! Look well upon him,
- niece; look you how his sword is bloodied, and his helm more
- hack'd than Hector's; and how he looks, and how he goes! O
- admirable youth! he never saw three and twenty. Go thy way,
- Troilus, go thy way. Had I a sister were a grace or a daughter a
- goddess, he should take his choice. O admirable man! Paris? Paris
- is dirt to him; and, I warrant, Helen, to change, would give an
- eye to boot.
- CRESSIDA. Here comes more.
-
- Common soldiers pass
-
- PANDARUS. Asses, fools, dolts! chaff and bran, chaff and bran!
- porridge after meat! I could live and die in the eyes of Troilus.
- Ne'er look, ne'er look; the eagles are gone. Crows and daws,
- crows and daws! I had rather be such a man as Troilus than
- Agamemnon and all Greece.
- CRESSIDA. There is amongst the Greeks Achilles, a better man than
- Troilus.
- PANDARUS. Achilles? A drayman, a porter, a very camel!
- CRESSIDA. Well, well.
- PANDARUS. Well, well! Why, have you any discretion? Have you any
- eyes? Do you know what a man is? Is not birth, beauty, good
- shape, discourse, manhood, learning, gentleness, virtue, youth,
- liberality, and such like, the spice and salt that season a man?
- CRESSIDA. Ay, a minc'd man; and then to be bak'd with no date in
- the pie, for then the man's date is out.
- PANDARUS. You are such a woman! A man knows not at what ward you
- lie.
- CRESSIDA. Upon my back, to defend my belly; upon my wit, to defend
- my wiles; upon my secrecy, to defend mine honesty; my mask, to
- defend my beauty; and you, to defend all these; and at all these
- wards I lie at, at a thousand watches.
- PANDARUS. Say one of your watches.
- CRESSIDA. Nay, I'll watch you for that; and that's one of the
- chiefest of them too. If I cannot ward what I would not have hit,
- I can watch you for telling how I took the blow; unless it swell
- past hiding, and then it's past watching
- PANDARUS. You are such another!
-
- Enter TROILUS' BOY
-
- BOY. Sir, my lord would instantly speak with you.
- PANDARUS. Where?
- BOY. At your own house; there he unarms him.
- PANDARUS. Good boy, tell him I come. Exit Boy
- I doubt he be hurt. Fare ye well, good niece.
- CRESSIDA. Adieu, uncle.
- PANDARUS. I will be with you, niece, by and by.
- CRESSIDA. To bring, uncle.
- PANDARUS. Ay, a token from Troilus.
- CRESSIDA. By the same token, you are a bawd.
- Exit PANDARUS
- Words, vows, gifts, tears, and love's full sacrifice,
- He offers in another's enterprise;
- But more in Troilus thousand-fold I see
- Than in the glass of Pandar's praise may be,
- Yet hold I off. Women are angels, wooing:
- Things won are done; joy's soul lies in the doing.
- That she belov'd knows nought that knows not this:
- Men prize the thing ungain'd more than it is.
- That she was never yet that ever knew
- Love got so sweet as when desire did sue;
- Therefore this maxim out of love I teach:
- Achievement is command; ungain'd, beseech.
- Then though my heart's content firm love doth bear,
- Nothing of that shall from mine eyes appear. Exit
-
-
-
-
-ACT I. SCENE 3.
-The Grecian camp. Before AGAMEMNON'S tent
-
-Sennet. Enter AGAMEMNON, NESTOR, ULYSSES, DIOMEDES, MENELAUS, and others
-
- AGAMEMNON. Princes,
- What grief hath set these jaundies o'er your cheeks?
- The ample proposition that hope makes
- In all designs begun on earth below
- Fails in the promis'd largeness; checks and disasters
- Grow in the veins of actions highest rear'd,
- As knots, by the conflux of meeting sap,
- Infects the sound pine, and diverts his grain
- Tortive and errant from his course of growth.
- Nor, princes, is it matter new to us
- That we come short of our suppose so far
- That after seven years' siege yet Troy walls stand;
- Sith every action that hath gone before,
- Whereof we have record, trial did draw
- Bias and thwart, not answering the aim,
- And that unbodied figure of the thought
- That gave't surmised shape. Why then, you princes,
- Do you with cheeks abash'd behold our works
- And call them shames, which are, indeed, nought else
- But the protractive trials of great Jove
- To find persistive constancy in men;
- The fineness of which metal is not found
- In fortune's love? For then the bold and coward,
- The wise and fool, the artist and unread,
- The hard and soft, seem all affin'd and kin.
- But in the wind and tempest of her frown
- Distinction, with a broad and powerful fan,
- Puffing at all, winnows the light away;
- And what hath mass or matter by itself
- Lies rich in virtue and unmingled.
- NESTOR. With due observance of thy godlike seat,
- Great Agamemnon, Nestor shall apply
- Thy latest words. In the reproof of chance
- Lies the true proof of men. The sea being smooth,
- How many shallow bauble boats dare sail
- Upon her patient breast, making their way
- With those of nobler bulk!
- But let the ruffian Boreas once enrage
- The gentle Thetis, and anon behold
- The strong-ribb'd bark through liquid mountains cut,
- Bounding between the two moist elements
- Like Perseus' horse. Where's then the saucy boat,
- Whose weak untimber'd sides but even now
- Co-rivall'd greatness? Either to harbour fled
- Or made a toast for Neptune. Even so
- Doth valour's show and valour's worth divide
- In storms of fortune; for in her ray and brightness
- The herd hath more annoyance by the breeze
- Than by the tiger; but when the splitting wind
- Makes flexible the knees of knotted oaks,
- And flies fled under shade-why, then the thing of courage
- As rous'd with rage, with rage doth sympathise,
- And with an accent tun'd in self-same key
- Retorts to chiding fortune.
- ULYSSES. Agamemnon,
- Thou great commander, nerve and bone of Greece,
- Heart of our numbers, soul and only spirit
- In whom the tempers and the minds of all
- Should be shut up-hear what Ulysses speaks.
- Besides the applause and approbation
- The which, [To AGAMEMNON] most mighty, for thy place and sway,
- [To NESTOR] And, thou most reverend, for thy stretch'd-out life,
- I give to both your speeches- which were such
- As Agamemnon and the hand of Greece
- Should hold up high in brass; and such again
- As venerable Nestor, hatch'd in silver,
- Should with a bond of air, strong as the axle-tree
- On which heaven rides, knit all the Greekish ears
- To his experienc'd tongue-yet let it please both,
- Thou great, and wise, to hear Ulysses speak.
- AGAMEMNON. Speak, Prince of Ithaca; and be't of less expect
- That matter needless, of importless burden,
- Divide thy lips than we are confident,
- When rank Thersites opes his mastic jaws,
- We shall hear music, wit, and oracle.
- ULYSSES. Troy, yet upon his basis, had been down,
- And the great Hector's sword had lack'd a master,
- But for these instances:
- The specialty of rule hath been neglected;
- And look how many Grecian tents do stand
- Hollow upon this plain, so many hollow factions.
- When that the general is not like the hive,
- To whom the foragers shall all repair,
- What honey is expected? Degree being vizarded,
- Th' unworthiest shows as fairly in the mask.
- The heavens themselves, the planets, and this centre,
- Observe degree, priority, and place,
- Insisture, course, proportion, season, form,
- Office, and custom, in all line of order;
- And therefore is the glorious planet Sol
- In noble eminence enthron'd and spher'd
- Amidst the other, whose med'cinable eye
- Corrects the ill aspects of planets evil,
- And posts, like the commandment of a king,
- Sans check, to good and bad. But when the planets
- In evil mixture to disorder wander,
- What plagues and what portents, what mutiny,
- What raging of the sea, shaking of earth,
- Commotion in the winds! Frights, changes, horrors,
- Divert and crack, rend and deracinate,
- The unity and married calm of states
- Quite from their fixture! O, when degree is shak'd,
- Which is the ladder of all high designs,
- The enterprise is sick! How could communities,
- Degrees in schools, and brotherhoods in cities,
- Peaceful commerce from dividable shores,
- The primogenity and due of birth,
- Prerogative of age, crowns, sceptres, laurels,
- But by degree, stand in authentic place?
- Take but degree away, untune that string,
- And hark what discord follows! Each thing melts
- In mere oppugnancy: the bounded waters
- Should lift their bosoms higher than the shores,
- And make a sop of all this solid globe;
- Strength should be lord of imbecility,
- And the rude son should strike his father dead;
- Force should be right; or, rather, right and wrong-
- Between whose endless jar justice resides-
- Should lose their names, and so should justice too.
- Then everything includes itself in power,
- Power into will, will into appetite;
- And appetite, an universal wolf,
- So doubly seconded with will and power,
- Must make perforce an universal prey,
- And last eat up himself. Great Agamemnon,
- This chaos, when degree is suffocate,
- Follows the choking.
- And this neglection of degree it is
- That by a pace goes backward, with a purpose
- It hath to climb. The general's disdain'd
- By him one step below, he by the next,
- That next by him beneath; so ever step,
- Exampl'd by the first pace that is sick
- Of his superior, grows to an envious fever
- Of pale and bloodless emulation.
- And 'tis this fever that keeps Troy on foot,
- Not her own sinews. To end a tale of length,
- Troy in our weakness stands, not in her strength.
- NESTOR. Most wisely hath Ulysses here discover'd
- The fever whereof all our power is sick.
- AGAMEMNON. The nature of the sickness found, Ulysses,
- What is the remedy?
- ULYSSES. The great Achilles, whom opinion crowns
- The sinew and the forehand of our host,
- Having his ear full of his airy fame,
- Grows dainty of his worth, and in his tent
- Lies mocking our designs; with him Patroclus
- Upon a lazy bed the livelong day
- Breaks scurril jests;
- And with ridiculous and awkward action-
- Which, slanderer, he imitation calls-
- He pageants us. Sometime, great Agamemnon,
- Thy topless deputation he puts on;
- And like a strutting player whose conceit
- Lies in his hamstring, and doth think it rich
- To hear the wooden dialogue and sound
- 'Twixt his stretch'd footing and the scaffoldage-
- Such to-be-pitied and o'er-wrested seeming
- He acts thy greatness in; and when he speaks
- 'Tis like a chime a-mending; with terms unsquar'd,
- Which, from the tongue of roaring Typhon dropp'd,
- Would seem hyperboles. At this fusty stuff
- The large Achilles, on his press'd bed lolling,
- From his deep chest laughs out a loud applause;
- Cries 'Excellent! 'tis Agamemnon just.
- Now play me Nestor; hem, and stroke thy beard,
- As he being drest to some oration.'
- That's done-as near as the extremest ends
- Of parallels, as like Vulcan and his wife;
- Yet god Achilles still cries 'Excellent!
- 'Tis Nestor right. Now play him me, Patroclus,
- Arming to answer in a night alarm.'
- And then, forsooth, the faint defects of age
- Must be the scene of mirth: to cough and spit
- And, with a palsy-fumbling on his gorget,
- Shake in and out the rivet. And at this sport
- Sir Valour dies; cries 'O, enough, Patroclus;
- Or give me ribs of steel! I shall split all
- In pleasure of my spleen.' And in this fashion
- All our abilities, gifts, natures, shapes,
- Severals and generals of grace exact,
- Achievements, plots, orders, preventions,
- Excitements to the field or speech for truce,
- Success or loss, what is or is not, serves
- As stuff for these two to make paradoxes.
- NESTOR. And in the imitation of these twain-
- Who, as Ulysses says, opinion crowns
- With an imperial voice-many are infect.
- Ajax is grown self-will'd and bears his head
- In such a rein, in full as proud a place
- As broad Achilles; keeps his tent like him;
- Makes factious feasts; rails on our state of war
- Bold as an oracle, and sets Thersites,
- A slave whose gall coins slanders like a mint,
- To match us in comparisons with dirt,
- To weaken and discredit our exposure,
- How rank soever rounded in with danger.
- ULYSSES. They tax our policy and call it cowardice,
- Count wisdom as no member of the war,
- Forestall prescience, and esteem no act
- But that of hand. The still and mental parts
- That do contrive how many hands shall strike
- When fitness calls them on, and know, by measure
- Of their observant toil, the enemies' weight-
- Why, this hath not a finger's dignity:
- They call this bed-work, mapp'ry, closet-war;
- So that the ram that batters down the wall,
- For the great swinge and rudeness of his poise,
- They place before his hand that made the engine,
- Or those that with the fineness of their souls
- By reason guide his execution.
- NESTOR. Let this be granted, and Achilles' horse
- Makes many Thetis' sons. [Tucket]
- AGAMEMNON. What trumpet? Look, Menelaus.
- MENELAUS. From Troy.
-
- Enter AENEAS
-
- AGAMEMNON. What would you fore our tent?
- AENEAS. Is this great Agamemnon's tent, I pray you?
- AGAMEMNON. Even this.
- AENEAS. May one that is a herald and a prince
- Do a fair message to his kingly eyes?
- AGAMEMNON. With surety stronger than Achilles' an
- Fore all the Greekish heads, which with one voice
- Call Agamemnon head and general.
- AENEAS. Fair leave and large security. How may
- A stranger to those most imperial looks
- Know them from eyes of other mortals?
- AGAMEMNON. How?
- AENEAS. Ay;
- I ask, that I might waken reverence,
- And bid the cheek be ready with a blush
- Modest as Morning when she coldly eyes
- The youthful Phoebus.
- Which is that god in office, guiding men?
- Which is the high and mighty Agamemnon?
- AGAMEMNON. This Troyan scorns us, or the men of Troy
- Are ceremonious courtiers.
- AENEAS. Courtiers as free, as debonair, unarm'd,
- As bending angels; that's their fame in peace.
- But when they would seem soldiers, they have galls,
- Good arms, strong joints, true swords; and, Jove's accord,
- Nothing so full of heart. But peace, Aeneas,
- Peace, Troyan; lay thy finger on thy lips.
- The worthiness of praise distains his worth,
- If that the prais'd himself bring the praise forth;
- But what the repining enemy commends,
- That breath fame blows; that praise, sole pure, transcends.
- AGAMEMNON. Sir, you of Troy, call you yourself Aeneas?
- AENEAS. Ay, Greek, that is my name.
- AGAMEMNON. What's your affair, I pray you?
- AENEAS. Sir, pardon; 'tis for Agamemnon's ears.
- AGAMEMNON. He hears nought privately that comes from Troy.
- AENEAS. Nor I from Troy come not to whisper with him;
- I bring a trumpet to awake his ear,
- To set his sense on the attentive bent,
- And then to speak.
- AGAMEMNON. Speak frankly as the wind;
- It is not Agamemnon's sleeping hour.
- That thou shalt know, Troyan, he is awake,
- He tells thee so himself.
- AENEAS. Trumpet, blow loud,
- Send thy brass voice through all these lazy tents;
- And every Greek of mettle, let him know
- What Troy means fairly shall be spoke aloud.
- [Sound trumpet]
- We have, great Agamemnon, here in Troy
- A prince called Hector-Priam is his father-
- Who in this dull and long-continued truce
- Is resty grown; he bade me take a trumpet
- And to this purpose speak: Kings, princes, lords!
- If there be one among the fair'st of Greece
- That holds his honour higher than his ease,
- That seeks his praise more than he fears his peril,
- That knows his valour and knows not his fear,
- That loves his mistress more than in confession
- With truant vows to her own lips he loves,
- And dare avow her beauty and her worth
- In other arms than hers-to him this challenge.
- Hector, in view of Troyans and of Greeks,
- Shall make it good or do his best to do it:
- He hath a lady wiser, fairer, truer,
- Than ever Greek did couple in his arms;
- And will to-morrow with his trumpet call
- Mid-way between your tents and walls of Troy
- To rouse a Grecian that is true in love.
- If any come, Hector shall honour him;
- If none, he'll say in Troy, when he retires,
- The Grecian dames are sunburnt and not worth
- The splinter of a lance. Even so much.
- AGAMEMNON. This shall be told our lovers, Lord Aeneas.
- If none of them have soul in such a kind,
- We left them all at home. But we are soldiers;
- And may that soldier a mere recreant prove
- That means not, hath not, or is not in love.
- If then one is, or hath, or means to be,
- That one meets Hector; if none else, I am he.
- NESTOR. Tell him of Nestor, one that was a man
- When Hector's grandsire suck'd. He is old now;
- But if there be not in our Grecian mould
- One noble man that hath one spark of fire
- To answer for his love, tell him from me
- I'll hide my silver beard in a gold beaver,
- And in my vantbrace put this wither'd brawn,
- And, meeting him, will tell him that my lady
- Was fairer than his grandame, and as chaste
- As may be in the world. His youth in flood,
- I'll prove this truth with my three drops of blood.
- AENEAS. Now heavens forfend such scarcity of youth!
- ULYSSES. Amen.
- AGAMEMNON. Fair Lord Aeneas, let me touch your hand;
- To our pavilion shall I lead you, first.
- Achilles shall have word of this intent;
- So shall each lord of Greece, from tent to tent.
- Yourself shall feast with us before you go,
- And find the welcome of a noble foe.
- Exeunt all but ULYSSES and NESTOR
- ULYSSES. Nestor!
- NESTOR. What says Ulysses?
- ULYSSES. I have a young conception in my brain;
- Be you my time to bring it to some shape.
- NESTOR. What is't?
- ULYSSES. This 'tis:
- Blunt wedges rive hard knots. The seeded pride
- That hath to this maturity blown up
- In rank Achilles must or now be cropp'd
- Or, shedding, breed a nursery of like evil
- To overbulk us all.
- NESTOR. Well, and how?
- ULYSSES. This challenge that the gallant Hector sends,
- However it is spread in general name,
- Relates in purpose only to Achilles.
- NESTOR. True. The purpose is perspicuous even as substance
- Whose grossness little characters sum up;
- And, in the publication, make no strain
- But that Achilles, were his brain as barren
- As banks of Libya-though, Apollo knows,
- 'Tis dry enough-will with great speed of judgment,
- Ay, with celerity, find Hector's purpose
- Pointing on him.
- ULYSSES. And wake him to the answer, think you?
- NESTOR. Why, 'tis most meet. Who may you else oppose
- That can from Hector bring those honours off,
- If not Achilles? Though 't be a sportful combat,
- Yet in this trial much opinion dwells;
- For here the Troyans taste our dear'st repute
- With their fin'st palate; and trust to me, Ulysses,
- Our imputation shall be oddly pois'd
- In this vile action; for the success,
- Although particular, shall give a scantling
- Of good or bad unto the general;
- And in such indexes, although small pricks
- To their subsequent volumes, there is seen
- The baby figure of the giant mas
- Of things to come at large. It is suppos'd
- He that meets Hector issues from our choice;
- And choice, being mutual act of all our souls,
- Makes merit her election, and doth boil,
- As 'twere from forth us all, a man distill'd
- Out of our virtues; who miscarrying,
- What heart receives from hence a conquering part,
- To steel a strong opinion to themselves?
- Which entertain'd, limbs are his instruments,
- In no less working than are swords and bows
- Directive by the limbs.
- ULYSSES. Give pardon to my speech.
- Therefore 'tis meet Achilles meet not Hector.
- Let us, like merchants, show our foulest wares
- And think perchance they'll sell; if not, the lustre
- Of the better yet to show shall show the better,
- By showing the worst first. Do not consent
- That ever Hector and Achilles meet;
- For both our honour and our shame in this
- Are dogg'd with two strange followers.
- NESTOR. I see them not with my old eyes. What are they?
- ULYSSES. What glory our Achilles shares from Hector,
- Were he not proud, we all should wear with him;
- But he already is too insolent;
- And it were better parch in Afric sun
- Than in the pride and salt scorn of his eyes,
- Should he scape Hector fair. If he were foil'd,
- Why, then we do our main opinion crush
- In taint of our best man. No, make a lott'ry;
- And, by device, let blockish Ajax draw
- The sort to fight with Hector. Among ourselves
- Give him allowance for the better man;
- For that will physic the great Myrmidon,
- Who broils in loud applause, and make him fall
- His crest, that prouder than blue Iris bends.
- If the dull brainless Ajax come safe off,
- We'll dress him up in voices; if he fail,
- Yet go we under our opinion still
- That we have better men. But, hit or miss,
- Our project's life this shape of sense assumes-
- Ajax employ'd plucks down Achilles' plumes.
- NESTOR. Now, Ulysses, I begin to relish thy advice;
- And I will give a taste thereof forthwith
- To Agamemnon. Go we to him straight.
- Two curs shall tame each other: pride alone
- Must tarre the mastiffs on, as 'twere their bone. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT II. SCENE 1.
-The Grecian camp
-
-Enter Ajax and THERSITES
-
- AJAX. Thersites!
- THERSITES. Agamemnon-how if he had boils full, an over, generally?
- AJAX. Thersites!
- THERSITES. And those boils did run-say so. Did not the general run
- then? Were not that a botchy core?
- AJAX. Dog!
- THERSITES. Then there would come some matter from him;
- I see none now.
- AJAX. Thou bitch-wolf's son, canst thou not hear? Feel, then.
- [Strikes him]
- THERSITES. The plague of Greece upon thee, thou mongrel beef-witted
- lord!
- AJAX. Speak, then, thou whinid'st leaven, speak. I will beat thee
- into handsomeness.
- THERSITES. I shall sooner rail thee into wit and holiness; but I
- think thy horse will sooner con an oration than thou learn a
- prayer without book. Thou canst strike, canst thou? A red murrain
- o' thy jade's tricks!
- AJAX. Toadstool, learn me the proclamation.
- THERSITES. Dost thou think I have no sense, thou strikest me thus?
- AJAX. The proclamation!
- THERSITES. Thou art proclaim'd, a fool, I think.
- AJAX. Do not, porpentine, do not; my fingers itch.
- THERSITES. I would thou didst itch from head to foot and I had the
- scratching of thee; I would make thee the loathsomest scab in
- Greece. When thou art forth in the incursions, thou strikest as
- slow as another.
- AJAX. I say, the proclamation.
- THERSITES. Thou grumblest and railest every hour on Achilles; and
- thou art as full of envy at his greatness as Cerberus is at
- Proserpina's beauty-ay, that thou bark'st at him.
- AJAX. Mistress Thersites!
- THERSITES. Thou shouldst strike him.
- AJAX. Cobloaf!
- THERSITES. He would pun thee into shivers with his fist, as a
- sailor breaks a biscuit.
- AJAX. You whoreson cur! [Strikes him]
- THERSITES. Do, do.
- AJAX. Thou stool for a witch!
- THERSITES. Ay, do, do; thou sodden-witted lord! Thou hast no more
- brain than I have in mine elbows; an assinico may tutor thee. You
- scurvy valiant ass! Thou art here but to thrash Troyans, and thou
- art bought and sold among those of any wit like a barbarian
- slave. If thou use to beat me, I will begin at thy heel and tell
- what thou art by inches, thou thing of no bowels, thou!
- AJAX. You dog!
- THERSITES. You scurvy lord!
- AJAX. You cur! [Strikes him]
- THERSITES. Mars his idiot! Do, rudeness; do, camel; do, do.
-
- Enter ACHILLES and PATROCLUS
-
- ACHILLES. Why, how now, Ajax! Wherefore do you thus?
- How now, Thersites! What's the matter, man?
- THERSITES. You see him there, do you?
- ACHILLES. Ay; what's the matter?
- THERSITES. Nay, look upon him.
- ACHILLES. So I do. What's the matter?
- THERSITES. Nay, but regard him well.
- ACHILLES. Well! why, so I do.
- THERSITES. But yet you look not well upon him; for who some ever
- you take him to be, he is Ajax.
- ACHILLES. I know that, fool.
- THERSITES. Ay, but that fool knows not himself.
- AJAX. Therefore I beat thee.
- THERSITES. Lo, lo, lo, lo, what modicums of wit he utters! His
- evasions have ears thus long. I have bobb'd his brain more than
- he has beat my bones. I will buy nine sparrows for a penny, and
- his pia mater is not worth the ninth part of a sparrow. This
- lord, Achilles, Ajax-who wears his wit in his belly and his guts
- in his head-I'll tell you what I say of him.
- ACHILLES. What?
- THERSITES. I say this Ajax- [AJAX offers to strike him]
- ACHILLES. Nay, good Ajax.
- THERSITES. Has not so much wit-
- ACHILLES. Nay, I must hold you.
- THERSITES. As will stop the eye of Helen's needle, for whom he
- comes to fight.
- ACHILLES. Peace, fool.
- THERSITES. I would have peace and quietness, but the fool will not-
- he there; that he; look you there.
- AJAX. O thou damned cur! I shall-
- ACHILLES. Will you set your wit to a fool's?
- THERSITES. No, I warrant you, the fool's will shame it.
- PATROCLUS. Good words, Thersites.
- ACHILLES. What's the quarrel?
- AJAX. I bade the vile owl go learn me the tenour of the
- proclamation, and he rails upon me.
- THERSITES. I serve thee not.
- AJAX. Well, go to, go to.
- THERSITES. I serve here voluntary.
- ACHILLES. Your last service was suff'rance; 'twas not voluntary. No
- man is beaten voluntary. Ajax was here the voluntary, and you as
- under an impress.
- THERSITES. E'en so; a great deal of your wit too lies in your
- sinews, or else there be liars. Hector shall have a great catch
- an he knock out either of your brains: 'a were as good crack a
- fusty nut with no kernel.
- ACHILLES. What, with me too, Thersites?
- THERSITES. There's Ulysses and old Nestor-whose wit was mouldy ere
- your grandsires had nails on their toes-yoke you like draught
- oxen, and make you plough up the wars.
- ACHILLES. What, what?
- THERSITES. Yes, good sooth. To Achilles, to Ajax, to-
- AJAX. I shall cut out your tongue.
- THERSITES. 'Tis no matter; I shall speak as much as thou
- afterwards.
- PATROCLUS. No more words, Thersites; peace!
- THERSITES. I will hold my peace when Achilles' brach bids me, shall
- I?
- ACHILLES. There's for you, Patroclus.
- THERSITES. I will see you hang'd like clotpoles ere I come any more
- to your tents. I will keep where there is wit stirring, and leave
- the faction of fools. Exit
- PATROCLUS. A good riddance.
- ACHILLES. Marry, this, sir, is proclaim'd through all our host,
- That Hector, by the fifth hour of the sun,
- Will with a trumpet 'twixt our tents and Troy,
- To-morrow morning, call some knight to arms
- That hath a stomach; and such a one that dare
- Maintain I know not what; 'tis trash. Farewell.
- AJAX. Farewell. Who shall answer him?
- ACHILLES. I know not; 'tis put to lott'ry. Otherwise. He knew his
- man.
- AJAX. O, meaning you! I will go learn more of it. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-ACT II. SCENE 2.
-Troy. PRIAM'S palace
-
-Enter PRIAM, HECTOR, TROILUS, PARIS, and HELENUS
-
- PRIAM. After so many hours, lives, speeches, spent,
- Thus once again says Nestor from the Greeks:
- 'Deliver Helen, and all damage else-
- As honour, loss of time, travail, expense,
- Wounds, friends, and what else dear that is consum'd
- In hot digestion of this cormorant war-
- Shall be struck off.' Hector, what say you to't?
- HECTOR. Though no man lesser fears the Greeks than I,
- As far as toucheth my particular,
- Yet, dread Priam,
- There is no lady of more softer bowels,
- More spongy to suck in the sense of fear,
- More ready to cry out 'Who knows what follows?'
- Than Hector is. The wound of peace is surety,
- Surety secure; but modest doubt is call'd
- The beacon of the wise, the tent that searches
- To th' bottom of the worst. Let Helen go.
- Since the first sword was drawn about this question,
- Every tithe soul 'mongst many thousand dismes
- Hath been as dear as Helen-I mean, of ours.
- If we have lost so many tenths of ours
- To guard a thing not ours, nor worth to us,
- Had it our name, the value of one ten,
- What merit's in that reason which denies
- The yielding of her up?
- TROILUS. Fie, fie, my brother!
- Weigh you the worth and honour of a king,
- So great as our dread father's, in a scale
- Of common ounces? Will you with counters sum
- The past-proportion of his infinite,
- And buckle in a waist most fathomless
- With spans and inches so diminutive
- As fears and reasons? Fie, for godly shame!
- HELENUS. No marvel though you bite so sharp at reasons,
- You are so empty of them. Should not our father
- Bear the great sway of his affairs with reasons,
- Because your speech hath none that tells him so?
- TROILUS. You are for dreams and slumbers, brother priest;
- You fur your gloves with reason. Here are your reasons:
- You know an enemy intends you harm;
- You know a sword employ'd is perilous,
- And reason flies the object of all harm.
- Who marvels, then, when Helenus beholds
- A Grecian and his sword, if he do set
- The very wings of reason to his heels
- And fly like chidden Mercury from Jove,
- Or like a star disorb'd? Nay, if we talk of reason,
- Let's shut our gates and sleep. Manhood and honour
- Should have hare hearts, would they but fat their thoughts
- With this cramm'd reason. Reason and respect
- Make livers pale and lustihood deject.
- HECTOR. Brother, she is not worth what she doth, cost
- The keeping.
- TROILUS. What's aught but as 'tis valued?
- HECTOR. But value dwells not in particular will:
- It holds his estimate and dignity
- As well wherein 'tis precious of itself
- As in the prizer. 'Tis mad idolatry
- To make the service greater than the god-I
- And the will dotes that is attributive
- To what infectiously itself affects,
- Without some image of th' affected merit.
- TROILUS. I take to-day a wife, and my election
- Is led on in the conduct of my will;
- My will enkindled by mine eyes and ears,
- Two traded pilots 'twixt the dangerous shores
- Of will and judgment: how may I avoid,
- Although my will distaste what it elected,
- The wife I chose? There can be no evasion
- To blench from this and to stand firm by honour.
- We turn not back the silks upon the merchant
- When we have soil'd them; nor the remainder viands
- We do not throw in unrespective sieve,
- Because we now are full. It was thought meet
- Paris should do some vengeance on the Greeks;
- Your breath with full consent benied his sails;
- The seas and winds, old wranglers, took a truce,
- And did him service. He touch'd the ports desir'd;
- And for an old aunt whom the Greeks held captive
- He brought a Grecian queen, whose youth and freshness
- Wrinkles Apollo's, and makes stale the morning.
- Why keep we her? The Grecians keep our aunt.
- Is she worth keeping? Why, she is a pearl
- Whose price hath launch'd above a thousand ships,
- And turn'd crown'd kings to merchants.
- If you'll avouch 'twas wisdom Paris went-
- As you must needs, for you all cried 'Go, go'-
- If you'll confess he brought home worthy prize-
- As you must needs, for you all clapp'd your hands,
- And cried 'Inestimable!' -why do you now
- The issue of your proper wisdoms rate,
- And do a deed that never fortune did-
- Beggar the estimation which you priz'd
- Richer than sea and land? O theft most base,
- That we have stol'n what we do fear to keep!
- But thieves unworthy of a thing so stol'n
- That in their country did them that disgrace
- We fear to warrant in our native place!
- CASSANDRA. [Within] Cry, Troyans, cry.
- PRIAM. What noise, what shriek is this?
- TROILUS. 'Tis our mad sister; I do know her voice.
- CASSANDRA. [Within] Cry, Troyans.
- HECTOR. It is Cassandra.
-
- Enter CASSANDRA, raving
-
- CASSANDRA. Cry, Troyans, cry. Lend me ten thousand eyes,
- And I will fill them with prophetic tears.
- HECTOR. Peace, sister, peace.
- CASSANDRA. Virgins and boys, mid-age and wrinkled eld,
- Soft infancy, that nothing canst but cry,
- Add to my clamours. Let us pay betimes
- A moiety of that mass of moan to come.
- Cry, Troyans, cry. Practise your eyes with tears.
- Troy must not be, nor goodly Ilion stand;
- Our firebrand brother, Paris, burns us all.
- Cry, Troyans, cry, A Helen and a woe!
- Cry, cry. Troy burns, or else let Helen go. Exit
- HECTOR. Now, youthful Troilus, do not these high strains
- Of divination in our sister work
- Some touches of remorse, or is your blood
- So madly hot that no discourse of reason,
- Nor fear of bad success in a bad cause,
- Can qualify the same?
- TROILUS. Why, brother Hector,
- We may not think the justness of each act
- Such and no other than event doth form it;
- Nor once deject the courage of our minds
- Because Cassandra's mad. Her brain-sick raptures
- Cannot distaste the goodness of a quarrel
- Which hath our several honours all engag'd
- To make it gracious. For my private part,
- I am no more touch'd than all Priam's sons;
- And Jove forbid there should be done amongst us
- Such things as might offend the weakest spleen
- To fight for and maintain.
- PARIS. Else might the world convince of levity
- As well my undertakings as your counsels;
- But I attest the gods, your full consent
- Gave wings to my propension, and cut of
- All fears attending on so dire a project.
- For what, alas, can these my single arms?
- What propugnation is in one man's valour
- To stand the push and enmity of those
- This quarrel would excite? Yet, I protest,
- Were I alone to pass the difficulties,
- And had as ample power as I have will,
- Paris should ne'er retract what he hath done
- Nor faint in the pursuit.
- PRIAM. Paris, you speak
- Like one besotted on your sweet delights.
- You have the honey still, but these the gall;
- So to be valiant is no praise at all.
- PARIS. Sir, I propose not merely to myself
- The pleasures such a beauty brings with it;
- But I would have the soil of her fair rape
- Wip'd off in honourable keeping her.
- What treason were it to the ransack'd queen,
- Disgrace to your great worths, and shame to me,
- Now to deliver her possession up
- On terms of base compulsion! Can it be
- That so degenerate a strain as this
- Should once set footing in your generous bosoms?
- There's not the meanest spirit on our party
- Without a heart to dare or sword to draw
- When Helen is defended; nor none so noble
- Whose life were ill bestow'd or death unfam'd
- Where Helen is the subject. Then, I say,
- Well may we fight for her whom we know well
- The world's large spaces cannot parallel.
- HECTOR. Paris and Troilus, you have both said well;
- And on the cause and question now in hand
- Have gloz'd, but superficially; not much
- Unlike young men, whom Aristode thought
- Unfit to hear moral philosophy.
- The reasons you allege do more conduce
- To the hot passion of distemp'red blood
- Than to make up a free determination
- 'Twixt right and wrong; for pleasure and revenge
- Have ears more deaf than adders to the voice
- Of any true decision. Nature craves
- All dues be rend'red to their owners. Now,
- What nearer debt in all humanity
- Than wife is to the husband? If this law
- Of nature be corrupted through affection;
- And that great minds, of partial indulgence
- To their benumbed wills, resist the same;
- There is a law in each well-order'd nation
- To curb those raging appetites that are
- Most disobedient and refractory.
- If Helen, then, be wife to Sparta's king-
- As it is known she is-these moral laws
- Of nature and of nations speak aloud
- To have her back return'd. Thus to persist
- In doing wrong extenuates not wrong,
- But makes it much more heavy. Hector's opinion
- Is this, in way of truth. Yet, ne'er the less,
- My spritely brethren, I propend to you
- In resolution to keep Helen still;
- For 'tis a cause that hath no mean dependence
- Upon our joint and several dignities.
- TROILUS. Why, there you touch'd the life of our design.
- Were it not glory that we more affected
- Than the performance of our heaving spleens,
- I would not wish a drop of Troyan blood
- Spent more in her defence. But, worthy Hector,
- She is a theme of honour and renown,
- A spur to valiant and magnanimous deeds,
- Whose present courage may beat down our foes,
- And fame in time to come canonize us;
- For I presume brave Hector would not lose
- So rich advantage of a promis'd glory
- As smiles upon the forehead of this action
- For the wide world's revenue.
- HECTOR. I am yours,
- You valiant offspring of great Priamus.
- I have a roisting challenge sent amongst
- The dull and factious nobles of the Greeks
- Will strike amazement to their drowsy spirits.
- I was advertis'd their great general slept,
- Whilst emulation in the army crept.
- This, I presume, will wake him. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-ACT II. SCENE 3.
-The Grecian camp. Before the tent of ACHILLES
-
-Enter THERSITES, solus
-
- THERSITES. How now, Thersites! What, lost in the labyrinth of thy
- fury? Shall the elephant Ajax carry it thus? He beats me, and I
- rail at him. O worthy satisfaction! Would it were otherwise: that
- I could beat him, whilst he rail'd at me! 'Sfoot, I'll learn to
- conjure and raise devils, but I'll see some issue of my spiteful
- execrations. Then there's Achilles, a rare engineer! If Troy be
- not taken till these two undermine it, the walls will stand till
- they fall of themselves. O thou great thunder-darter of Olympus,
- forget that thou art Jove, the king of gods, and, Mercury, lose
- all the serpentine craft of thy caduceus, if ye take not that
- little little less-than-little wit from them that they have!
- which short-arm'd ignorance itself knows is so abundant scarce,
- it will not in circumvention deliver a fly from a spider without
- drawing their massy irons and cutting the web. After this, the
- vengeance on the whole camp! or, rather, the Neapolitan
- bone-ache! for that, methinks, is the curse depending on those
- that war for a placket. I have said my prayers; and devil Envy
- say 'Amen.' What ho! my Lord Achilles!
-
- Enter PATROCLUS
-
- PATROCLUS. Who's there? Thersites! Good Thersites, come in and
- rail.
- THERSITES. If I could 'a rememb'red a gilt counterfeit, thou
- wouldst not have slipp'd out of my contemplation; but it is no
- matter; thyself upon thyself! The common curse of mankind, folly
- and ignorance, be thine in great revenue! Heaven bless thee from
- a tutor, and discipline come not near thee! Let thy blood be thy
- direction till thy death. Then if she that lays thee out says
- thou art a fair corse, I'll be sworn and sworn upon't she never
- shrouded any but lazars. Amen. Where's Achilles?
- PATROCLUS. What, art thou devout? Wast thou in prayer?
- THERSITES. Ay, the heavens hear me!
- PATROCLUS. Amen.
-
- Enter ACHILLES
-
- ACHILLES. Who's there?
- PATROCLUS. Thersites, my lord.
- ACHILLES. Where, where? O, where? Art thou come? Why, my cheese, my
- digestion, why hast thou not served thyself in to my table so
- many meals? Come, what's Agamemnon?
- THERSITES. Thy commander, Achilles. Then tell me, Patroclus, what's
- Achilles?
- PATROCLUS. Thy lord, Thersites. Then tell me, I pray thee, what's
- Thersites?
- THERSITES. Thy knower, Patroclus. Then tell me, Patroclus, what art
- thou?
- PATROCLUS. Thou must tell that knowest.
- ACHILLES. O, tell, tell,
- THERSITES. I'll decline the whole question. Agamemnon commands
- Achilles; Achilles is my lord; I am Patroclus' knower; and
- Patroclus is a fool.
- PATROCLUS. You rascal!
- THERSITES. Peace, fool! I have not done.
- ACHILLES. He is a privileg'd man. Proceed, Thersites.
- THERSITES. Agamemnon is a fool; Achilles is a fool; Thersites is a
- fool; and, as aforesaid, Patroclus is a fool.
- ACHILLES. Derive this; come.
- THERSITES. Agamemnon is a fool to offer to command Achilles;
- Achilles is a fool to be commanded of Agamemnon; Thersites is a
- fool to serve such a fool; and this Patroclus is a fool positive.
- PATROCLUS. Why am I a fool?
- THERSITES. Make that demand of the Creator. It suffices me thou
- art. Look you, who comes here?
- ACHILLES. Come, Patroclus, I'll speak with nobody. Come in with me,
- Thersites. Exit
- THERSITES. Here is such patchery, such juggling, and such knavery.
- All the argument is a whore and a cuckold-a good quarrel to draw
- emulous factions and bleed to death upon. Now the dry serpigo on
- the subject, and war and lechery confound all! Exit
-
- Enter AGAMEMNON, ULYSSES, NESTOR, DIOMEDES,
- AJAX, and CALCHAS
-
- AGAMEMNON. Where is Achilles?
- PATROCLUS. Within his tent; but ill-dispos'd, my lord.
- AGAMEMNON. Let it be known to him that we are here.
- He shent our messengers; and we lay by
- Our appertainings, visiting of him.
- Let him be told so; lest, perchance, he think
- We dare not move the question of our place
- Or know not what we are.
- PATROCLUS. I shall say so to him. Exit
- ULYSSES. We saw him at the opening of his tent.
- He is not sick.
- AJAX. Yes, lion-sick, sick of proud heart. You may call it
- melancholy, if you will favour the man; but, by my head, 'tis
- pride. But why, why? Let him show us a cause. A word, my lord.
- [Takes AGAMEMNON aside]
- NESTOR. What moves Ajax thus to bay at him?
- ULYSSES. Achilles hath inveigled his fool from him.
- NESTOR.Who, Thersites?
- ULYSSES. He.
- NESTOR. Then will Ajax lack matter, if he have lost his argument
- ULYSSES. No; you see he is his argument that has his argument-
- Achilles.
- NESTOR. All the better; their fraction is more our wish than their
- faction. But it was a strong composure a fool could disunite!
- ULYSSES. The amity that wisdom knits not, folly may easily untie.
-
- Re-enter PATROCLUS
-
- Here comes Patroclus.
- NESTOR. No Achilles with him.
- ULYSSES. The elephant hath joints, but none for courtesy; his legs
- are legs for necessity, not for flexure.
- PATROCLUS. Achilles bids me say he is much sorry
- If any thing more than your sport and pleasure
- Did move your greatness and this noble state
- To call upon him; he hopes it is no other
- But for your health and your digestion sake,
- An after-dinner's breath.
- AGAMEMNON. Hear you, Patroclus.
- We are too well acquainted with these answers;
- But his evasion, wing'd thus swift with scorn,
- Cannot outfly our apprehensions.
- Much attribute he hath, and much the reason
- Why we ascribe it to him. Yet all his virtues,
- Not virtuously on his own part beheld,
- Do in our eyes begin to lose their gloss;
- Yea, like fair fruit in an unwholesome dish,
- Are like to rot untasted. Go and tell him
- We come to speak with him; and you shall not sin
- If you do say we think him over-proud
- And under-honest, in self-assumption greater
- Than in the note of judgment; and worthier than himself
- Here tend the savage strangeness he puts on,
- Disguise the holy strength of their command,
- And underwrite in an observing kind
- His humorous predominance; yea, watch
- His pettish lunes, his ebbs, his flows, as if
- The passage and whole carriage of this action
- Rode on his tide. Go tell him this, and ad
- That if he overhold his price so much
- We'll none of him, but let him, like an engine
- Not portable, lie under this report:
- Bring action hither; this cannot go to war.
- A stirring dwarf we do allowance give
- Before a sleeping giant. Tell him so.
- PATROCLUS. I shall, and bring his answer presently. Exit
- AGAMEMNON. In second voice we'll not be satisfied;
- We come to speak with him. Ulysses, enter you.
- Exit ULYSSES
- AJAX. What is he more than another?
- AGAMEMNON. No more than what he thinks he is.
- AJAX. Is he so much? Do you not think he thinks himself a better
- man than I am?
- AGAMEMNON. No question.
- AJAX. Will you subscribe his thought and say he is?
- AGAMEMNON. No, noble Ajax; you are as strong, as valiant, as wise,
- no less noble, much more gentle, and altogether more tractable.
- AJAX. Why should a man be proud? How doth pride grow? I know not
- what pride is.
- AGAMEMNON. Your mind is the clearer, Ajax, and your virtues the
- fairer. He that is proud eats up himself. Pride is his own glass,
- his own trumpet, his own chronicle; and whatever praises itself
- but in the deed devours the deed in the praise.
-
- Re-enter ULYSSES
-
- AJAX. I do hate a proud man as I do hate the engend'ring of toads.
- NESTOR. [Aside] And yet he loves himself: is't not strange?
- ULYSSES. Achilles will not to the field to-morrow.
- AGAMEMNON. What's his excuse?
- ULYSSES. He doth rely on none;
- But carries on the stream of his dispose,
- Without observance or respect of any,
- In will peculiar and in self-admission.
- AGAMEMNON. Why will he not, upon our fair request,
- Untent his person and share the air with us?
- ULYSSES. Things small as nothing, for request's sake only,
- He makes important; possess'd he is with greatness,
- And speaks not to himself but with a pride
- That quarrels at self-breath. Imagin'd worth
- Holds in his blood such swol'n and hot discourse
- That 'twixt his mental and his active parts
- Kingdom'd Achilles in commotion rages,
- And batters down himself. What should I say?
- He is so plaguy proud that the death tokens of it
- Cry 'No recovery.'
- AGAMEMNON. Let Ajax go to him.
- Dear lord, go you and greet him in his tent.
- 'Tis said he holds you well; and will be led
- At your request a little from himself.
- ULYSSES. O Agamemnon, let it not be so!
- We'll consecrate the steps that Ajax makes
- When they go from Achilles. Shall the proud lord
- That bastes his arrogance with his own seam
- And never suffers matter of the world
- Enter his thoughts, save such as doth revolve
- And ruminate himself-shall he be worshipp'd
- Of that we hold an idol more than he?
- No, this thrice-worthy and right valiant lord
- Shall not so stale his palm, nobly acquir'd,
- Nor, by my will, assubjugate his merit,
- As amply titled as Achilles is,
- By going to Achilles.
- That were to enlard his fat-already pride,
- And add more coals to Cancer when he burns
- With entertaining great Hyperion.
- This lord go to him! Jupiter forbid,
- And say in thunder 'Achilles go to him.'
- NESTOR. [Aside] O, this is well! He rubs the vein of him.
- DIOMEDES. [Aside] And how his silence drinks up this applause!
- AJAX. If I go to him, with my armed fist I'll pash him o'er the
- face.
- AGAMEMNON. O, no, you shall not go.
- AJAX. An 'a be proud with me I'll pheeze his pride.
- Let me go to him.
- ULYSSES. Not for the worth that hangs upon our quarrel.
- AJAX. A paltry, insolent fellow!
- NESTOR. [Aside] How he describes himself!
- AJAX. Can he not be sociable?
- ULYSSES. [Aside] The raven chides blackness.
- AJAX. I'll let his humours blood.
- AGAMEMNON. [Aside] He will be the physician that should be the
- patient.
- AJAX. An all men were a my mind-
- ULYSSES. [Aside] Wit would be out of fashion.
- AJAX. 'A should not bear it so, 'a should eat's words first.
- Shall pride carry it?
- NESTOR. [Aside] An 'twould, you'd carry half.
- ULYSSES. [Aside] 'A would have ten shares.
- AJAX. I will knead him, I'll make him supple.
- NESTOR. [Aside] He's not yet through warm. Force him with praises;
- pour in, pour in; his ambition is dry.
- ULYSSES. [To AGAMEMNON] My lord, you feed too much on this dislike.
- NESTOR. Our noble general, do not do so.
- DIOMEDES. You must prepare to fight without Achilles.
- ULYSSES. Why 'tis this naming of him does him harm.
- Here is a man-but 'tis before his face;
- I will be silent.
- NESTOR. Wherefore should you so?
- He is not emulous, as Achilles is.
- ULYSSES. Know the whole world, he is as valiant.
- AJAX. A whoreson dog, that shall palter with us thus!
- Would he were a Troyan!
- NESTOR. What a vice were it in Ajax now-
- ULYSSES. If he were proud.
- DIOMEDES. Or covetous of praise.
- ULYSSES. Ay, or surly borne.
- DIOMEDES. Or strange, or self-affected.
- ULYSSES. Thank the heavens, lord, thou art of sweet composure
- Praise him that gat thee, she that gave thee suck;
- Fam'd be thy tutor, and thy parts of nature
- Thrice-fam'd beyond, beyond all erudition;
- But he that disciplin'd thine arms to fight-
- Let Mars divide eternity in twain
- And give him half; and, for thy vigour,
- Bull-bearing Milo his addition yield
- To sinewy Ajax. I will not praise thy wisdom,
- Which, like a bourn, a pale, a shore, confines
- Thy spacious and dilated parts. Here's Nestor,
- Instructed by the antiquary times-
- He must, he is, he cannot but be wise;
- But pardon, father Nestor, were your days
- As green as Ajax' and your brain so temper'd,
- You should not have the eminence of him,
- But be as Ajax.
- AJAX. Shall I call you father?
- NESTOR. Ay, my good son.
- DIOMEDES. Be rul'd by him, Lord Ajax.
- ULYSSES. There is no tarrying here; the hart Achilles
- Keeps thicket. Please it our great general
- To call together all his state of war;
- Fresh kings are come to Troy. To-morrow
- We must with all our main of power stand fast;
- And here's a lord-come knights from east to west
- And cull their flower, Ajax shall cope the best.
- AGAMEMNON. Go we to council. Let Achilles sleep.
- Light boats sail swift, though greater hulks draw deep.
- Exeunt
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT III. SCENE 1.
-Troy. PRIAM'S palace
-
-Music sounds within. Enter PANDARUS and a SERVANT
-
- PANDARUS. Friend, you-pray you, a word. Do you not follow the young
- Lord Paris?
- SERVANT. Ay, sir, when he goes before me.
- PANDARUS. You depend upon him, I mean?
- SERVANT. Sir, I do depend upon the lord.
- PANDARUS. You depend upon a notable gentleman; I must needs praise
- him.
- SERVANT. The lord be praised!
- PANDARUS. You know me, do you not?
- SERVANT. Faith, sir, superficially.
- PANDARUS. Friend, know me better: I am the Lord Pandarus.
- SERVANT. I hope I shall know your honour better.
- PANDARUS. I do desire it.
- SERVANT. You are in the state of grace.
- PANDARUS. Grace! Not so, friend; honour and lordship are my titles.
- What music is this?
- SERVANT. I do but partly know, sir; it is music in parts.
- PANDARUS. Know you the musicians?
- SERVANT. Wholly, sir.
- PANDARUS. Who play they to?
- SERVANT. To the hearers, sir.
- PANDARUS. At whose pleasure, friend?
- SERVANT. At mine, sir, and theirs that love music.
- PANDARUS. Command, I mean, friend.
- SERVANT. Who shall I command, sir?
- PANDARUS. Friend, we understand not one another: I am to courtly,
- and thou art too cunning. At whose request do these men play?
- SERVANT. That's to't, indeed, sir. Marry, sir, at the request of
- Paris my lord, who is there in person; with him the mortal Venus,
- the heart-blood of beauty, love's invisible soul-
- PANDARUS. Who, my cousin, Cressida?
- SERVANT. No, sir, Helen. Could not you find out that by her
- attributes?
- PANDARUS. It should seem, fellow, that thou hast not seen the Lady
- Cressida. I come to speak with Paris from the Prince Troilus; I
- will make a complimental assault upon him, for my business
- seethes.
- SERVANT. Sodden business! There's a stew'd phrase indeed!
-
- Enter PARIS and HELEN, attended
-
- PANDARUS. Fair be to you, my lord, and to all this fair company!
- Fair desires, in all fair measure, fairly guide them- especially
- to you, fair queen! Fair thoughts be your fair pillow.
- HELEN. Dear lord, you are full of fair words.
- PANDARUS. You speak your fair pleasure, sweet queen. Fair prince,
- here is good broken music.
- PARIS. You have broke it, cousin; and by my life, you shall make it
- whole again; you shall piece it out with a piece of your
- performance.
- HELEN. He is full of harmony.
- PANDARUS. Truly, lady, no.
- HELEN. O, sir-
- PANDARUS. Rude, in sooth; in good sooth, very rude.
- PARIS. Well said, my lord. Well, you say so in fits.
- PANDARUS. I have business to my lord, dear queen. My lord, will you
- vouchsafe me a word?
- HELEN. Nay, this shall not hedge us out. We'll hear you sing,
- certainly-
- PANDARUS. Well sweet queen, you are pleasant with me. But, marry,
- thus, my lord: my dear lord and most esteemed friend, your
- brother Troilus-
- HELEN. My Lord Pandarus, honey-sweet lord-
- PANDARUS. Go to, sweet queen, go to-commends himself most
- affectionately to you-
- HELEN. You shall not bob us out of our melody. If you do, our
- melancholy upon your head!
- PANDARUS. Sweet queen, sweet queen; that's a sweet queen, i' faith.
- HELEN. And to make a sweet lady sad is a sour offence.
- PANDARUS. Nay, that shall not serve your turn; that shall it not,
- in truth, la. Nay, I care not for such words; no, no. -And, my
- lord, he desires you that, if the King call for him at supper,
- you will make his excuse.
- HELEN. My Lord Pandarus!
- PANDARUS. What says my sweet queen, my very very sweet queen?
- PARIS. What exploit's in hand? Where sups he to-night?
- HELEN. Nay, but, my lord-
- PANDARUS. What says my sweet queen?-My cousin will fall out with
- you.
- HELEN. You must not know where he sups.
- PARIS. I'll lay my life, with my disposer Cressida.
- PANDARUS. No, no, no such matter; you are wide. Come, your disposer
- is sick.
- PARIS. Well, I'll make's excuse.
- PANDARUS. Ay, good my lord. Why should you say Cressida?
- No, your poor disposer's sick.
- PARIS. I spy.
- PANDARUS. You spy! What do you spy?-Come, give me an instrument.
- Now, sweet queen.
- HELEN. Why, this is kindly done.
- PANDARUS. My niece is horribly in love with a thing you have, sweet
- queen.
- HELEN. She shall have it, my lord, if it be not my Lord Paris.
- PANDARUS. He! No, she'll none of him; they two are twain.
- HELEN. Falling in, after falling out, may make them three.
- PANDARUS. Come, come. I'll hear no more of this; I'll sing you a
- song now.
- HELEN. Ay, ay, prithee now. By my troth, sweet lord, thou hast a
- fine forehead.
- PANDARUS. Ay, you may, you may.
- HELEN. Let thy song be love. This love will undo us all. O Cupid,
- Cupid, Cupid!
- PANDARUS. Love! Ay, that it shall, i' faith.
- PARIS. Ay, good now, love, love, nothing but love.
- PANDARUS. In good troth, it begins so. [Sings]
-
- Love, love, nothing but love, still love, still more!
- For, oh, love's bow
- Shoots buck and doe;
- The shaft confounds
- Not that it wounds,
- But tickles still the sore.
- These lovers cry, O ho, they die!
- Yet that which seems the wound to kill
- Doth turn O ho! to ha! ha! he!
- So dying love lives still.
- O ho! a while, but ha! ha! ha!
- O ho! groans out for ha! ha! ha!-hey ho!
-
- HELEN. In love, i' faith, to the very tip of the nose.
- PARIS. He eats nothing but doves, love; and that breeds hot blood,
- and hot blood begets hot thoughts, and hot thoughts beget hot
- deeds, and hot deeds is love.
- PANDARUS. Is this the generation of love: hot blood, hot thoughts,
- and hot deeds? Why, they are vipers. Is love a generation of
- vipers? Sweet lord, who's a-field today?
- PARIS. Hector, Deiphobus, Helenus, Antenor, and all the gallantry
- of Troy. I would fain have arm'd to-day, but my Nell would not
- have it so. How chance my brother Troilus went not?
- HELEN. He hangs the lip at something. You know all, Lord Pandarus.
- PANDARUS. Not I, honey-sweet queen. I long to hear how they spend
- to-day. You'll remember your brother's excuse?
- PARIS. To a hair.
- PANDARUS. Farewell, sweet queen.
- HELEN. Commend me to your niece.
- PANDARUS. I will, sweet queen. Exit. Sound a retreat
- PARIS. They're come from the field. Let us to Priam's hall
- To greet the warriors. Sweet Helen, I must woo you
- To help unarm our Hector. His stubborn buckles,
- With these your white enchanting fingers touch'd,
- Shall more obey than to the edge of steel
- Or force of Greekish sinews; you shall do more
- Than all the island kings-disarm great Hector.
- HELEN. 'Twill make us proud to be his servant, Paris;
- Yea, what he shall receive of us in duty
- Gives us more palm in beauty than we have,
- Yea, overshines ourself.
- PARIS. Sweet, above thought I love thee. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-ACT III. SCENE 2.
-Troy. PANDARUS' orchard
-
-Enter PANDARUS and TROILUS' BOY, meeting
-
- PANDARUS. How now! Where's thy master? At my cousin Cressida's?
- BOY. No, sir; he stays for you to conduct him thither.
-
- Enter TROILUS
-
- PANDARUS. O, here he comes. How now, how now!
- TROILUS. Sirrah, walk off. Exit Boy
- PANDARUS. Have you seen my cousin?
- TROILUS. No, Pandarus. I stalk about her door
- Like a strange soul upon the Stygian banks
- Staying for waftage. O, be thou my Charon,
- And give me swift transportance to these fields
- Where I may wallow in the lily beds
- Propos'd for the deserver! O gentle Pandar,
- From Cupid's shoulder pluck his painted wings,
- And fly with me to Cressid!
- PANDARUS. Walk here i' th' orchard, I'll bring her straight.
- Exit
- TROILUS. I am giddy; expectation whirls me round.
- Th' imaginary relish is so sweet
- That it enchants my sense; what will it be
- When that the wat'ry palate tastes indeed
- Love's thrice-repured nectar? Death, I fear me;
- Swooning destruction; or some joy too fine,
- Too subtle-potent, tun'd too sharp in sweetness,
- For the capacity of my ruder powers.
- I fear it much; and I do fear besides
- That I shall lose distinction in my joys;
- As doth a battle, when they charge on heaps
- The enemy flying.
-
- Re-enter PANDARUS
-
- PANDARUS. She's making her ready, she'll come straight; you must be
- witty now. She does so blush, and fetches her wind so short, as
- if she were fray'd with a sprite. I'll fetch her. It is the
- prettiest villain; she fetches her breath as short as a new-ta'en
- sparrow. Exit
- TROILUS. Even such a passion doth embrace my bosom.
- My heart beats thicker than a feverous pulse,
- And all my powers do their bestowing lose,
- Like vassalage at unawares encount'ring
- The eye of majesty.
-
- Re-enter PANDARUS With CRESSIDA
-
- PANDARUS. Come, come, what need you blush? Shame's a baby.-Here she
- is now; swear the oaths now to her that you have sworn to me.-
- What, are you gone again? You must be watch'd ere you be made
- tame, must you? Come your ways, come your ways; an you draw
- backward, we'll put you i' th' fills.-Why do you not speak to
- her?-Come, draw this curtain and let's see your picture.
- Alas the day, how loath you are to offend daylight! An 'twere
- dark, you'd close sooner. So, so; rub on, and kiss the mistress
- How now, a kiss in fee-farm! Build there, carpenter; the air is
- sweet. Nay, you shall fight your hearts out ere I part you. The
- falcon as the tercel, for all the ducks i' th' river. Go to, go
- to.
- TROILUS. You have bereft me of all words, lady.
- PANDARUS. Words pay no debts, give her deeds; but she'll bereave
- you o' th' deeds too, if she call your activity in question.
- What, billing again? Here's 'In witness whereof the parties
- interchangeably.' Come in, come in; I'll go get a fire.
- Exit
- CRESSIDA. Will you walk in, my lord?
- TROILUS. O Cressid, how often have I wish'd me thus!
- CRESSIDA. Wish'd, my lord! The gods grant-O my lord!
- TROILUS. What should they grant? What makes this pretty abruption?
- What too curious dreg espies my sweet lady in the fountain of our
- love?
- CRESSIDA. More dregs than water, if my fears have eyes.
- TROILUS. Fears make devils of cherubims; they never see truly.
- CRESSIDA. Blind fear, that seeing reason leads, finds safer footing
- than blind reason stumbling without fear. To fear the worst oft
- cures the worse.
- TROILUS. O, let my lady apprehend no fear! In all Cupid's pageant
- there is presented no monster.
- CRESSIDA. Nor nothing monstrous neither?
- TROILUS. Nothing, but our undertakings when we vow to weep seas,
- live in fire, cat rocks, tame tigers; thinking it harder for our
- mistress to devise imposition enough than for us to undergo any
- difficulty imposed. This is the monstruosity in love, lady, that
- the will is infinite, and the execution confin'd; that the desire
- is boundless, and the act a slave to limit.
- CRESSIDA. They say all lovers swear more performance than they are
- able, and yet reserve an ability that they never perform; vowing
- more than the perfection of ten, and discharging less than the
- tenth part of one. They that have the voice of lions and the act
- of hares, are they not monsters?
- TROILUS. Are there such? Such are not we. Praise us as we are
- tasted, allow us as we prove; our head shall go bare till merit
- crown it. No perfection in reversion shall have a praise in
- present. We will not name desert before his birth; and, being
- born, his addition shall be humble. Few words to fair faith:
- Troilus shall be such to Cressid as what envy can say worst shall
- be a mock for his truth; and what truth can speak truest not
- truer than Troilus.
- CRESSIDA. Will you walk in, my lord?
-
- Re-enter PANDARUS
-
- PANDARUS. What, blushing still? Have you not done talking yet?
- CRESSIDA. Well, uncle, what folly I commit, I dedicate to you.
- PANDARUS. I thank you for that; if my lord get a boy of you, you'll
- give him me. Be true to my lord; if he flinch, chide me for it.
- TROILUS. You know now your hostages: your uncle's word and my firm
- faith.
- PANDARUS. Nay, I'll give my word for her too: our kindred, though
- they be long ere they are wooed, they are constant being won;
- they are burs, I can tell you; they'll stick where they are
- thrown.
- CRESSIDA. Boldness comes to me now and brings me heart.
- Prince Troilus, I have lov'd you night and day
- For many weary months.
- TROILUS. Why was my Cressid then so hard to win?
- CRESSIDA. Hard to seem won; but I was won, my lord,
- With the first glance that ever-pardon me.
- If I confess much, you will play the tyrant.
- I love you now; but till now not so much
- But I might master it. In faith, I lie;
- My thoughts were like unbridled children, grown
- Too headstrong for their mother. See, we fools!
- Why have I blabb'd? Who shall be true to us,
- When we are so unsecret to ourselves?
- But, though I lov'd you well, I woo'd you not;
- And yet, good faith, I wish'd myself a man,
- Or that we women had men's privilege
- Of speaking first. Sweet, bid me hold my tongue,
- For in this rapture I shall surely speak
- The thing I shall repent. See, see, your silence,
- Cunning in dumbness, from my weakness draws
- My very soul of counsel. Stop my mouth.
- TROILUS. And shall, albeit sweet music issues thence.
- PANDARUS. Pretty, i' faith.
- CRESSIDA. My lord, I do beseech you, pardon me;
- 'Twas not my purpose thus to beg a kiss.
- I am asham'd. O heavens! what have I done?
- For this time will I take my leave, my lord.
- TROILUS. Your leave, sweet Cressid!
- PANDARUS. Leave! An you take leave till to-morrow morning-
- CRESSIDA. Pray you, content you.
- TROILUS. What offends you, lady?
- CRESSIDA. Sir, mine own company.
- TROILUS. You cannot shun yourself.
- CRESSIDA. Let me go and try.
- I have a kind of self resides with you;
- But an unkind self, that itself will leave
- To be another's fool. I would be gone.
- Where is my wit? I know not what I speak.
- TROILUS. Well know they what they speak that speak so wisely.
- CRESSIDA. Perchance, my lord, I show more craft than love;
- And fell so roundly to a large confession
- To angle for your thoughts; but you are wise-
- Or else you love not; for to be wise and love
- Exceeds man's might; that dwells with gods above.
- TROILUS. O that I thought it could be in a woman-
- As, if it can, I will presume in you-
- To feed for aye her lamp and flames of love;
- To keep her constancy in plight and youth,
- Outliving beauty's outward, with a mind
- That doth renew swifter than blood decays!
- Or that persuasion could but thus convince me
- That my integrity and truth to you
- Might be affronted with the match and weight
- Of such a winnowed purity in love.
- How were I then uplifted! but, alas,
- I am as true as truth's simplicity,
- And simpler than the infancy of truth.
- CRESSIDA. In that I'll war with you.
- TROILUS. O virtuous fight,
- When right with right wars who shall be most right!
- True swains in love shall in the world to come
- Approve their truth by Troilus, when their rhymes,
- Full of protest, of oath, and big compare,
- Want similes, truth tir'd with iteration-
- As true as steel, as plantage to the moon,
- As sun to day, as turtle to her mate,
- As iron to adamant, as earth to th' centre-
- Yet, after all comparisons of truth,
- As truth's authentic author to be cited,
- 'As true as Troilus' shall crown up the verse
- And sanctify the numbers.
- CRESSIDA. Prophet may you be!
- If I be false, or swerve a hair from truth,
- When time is old and hath forgot itself,
- When waterdrops have worn the stones of Troy,
- And blind oblivion swallow'd cities up,
- And mighty states characterless are grated
- To dusty nothing-yet let memory
- From false to false, among false maids in love,
- Upbraid my falsehood when th' have said 'As false
- As air, as water, wind, or sandy earth,
- As fox to lamb, or wolf to heifer's calf,
- Pard to the hind, or stepdame to her son'-
- Yea, let them say, to stick the heart of falsehood,
- 'As false as Cressid.'
- PANDARUS. Go to, a bargain made; seal it, seal it; I'll be the
- witness. Here I hold your hand; here my cousin's. If ever you
- prove false one to another, since I have taken such pains to
- bring you together, let all pitiful goers- between be call'd to
- the world's end after my name-call them all Pandars; let all
- constant men be Troiluses, all false women Cressids, and all
- brokers between Pandars. Say 'Amen.'
- TROILUS. Amen.
- CRESSIDA. Amen.
- PANDARUS. Amen. Whereupon I will show you a chamber
- and a bed; which bed, because it shall not speak of your
- pretty encounters, press it to death. Away!
- And Cupid grant all tongue-tied maidens here,
- Bed, chamber, pander, to provide this gear! Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-ACT III. SCENE 3.
-The Greek camp
-
-Flourish. Enter AGAMEMNON, ULYSSES, DIOMEDES, NESTOR, AJAX, MENELAUS,
-and CALCHAS
-
- CALCHAS. Now, Princes, for the service I have done,
- Th' advantage of the time prompts me aloud
- To call for recompense. Appear it to your mind
- That, through the sight I bear in things to come,
- I have abandon'd Troy, left my possession,
- Incurr'd a traitor's name, expos'd myself
- From certain and possess'd conveniences
- To doubtful fortunes, sequest'ring from me all
- That time, acquaintance, custom, and condition,
- Made tame and most familiar to my nature;
- And here, to do you service, am become
- As new into the world, strange, unacquainted-
- I do beseech you, as in way of taste,
- To give me now a little benefit
- Out of those many regist'red in promise,
- Which you say live to come in my behalf.
- AGAMEMNON. What wouldst thou of us, Troyan? Make demand.
- CALCHAS. You have a Troyan prisoner call'd Antenor,
- Yesterday took; Troy holds him very dear.
- Oft have you-often have you thanks therefore-
- Desir'd my Cressid in right great exchange,
- Whom Troy hath still denied; but this Antenor,
- I know, is such a wrest in their affairs
- That their negotiations all must slack
- Wanting his manage; and they will almost
- Give us a prince of blood, a son of Priam,
- In change of him. Let him be sent, great Princes,
- And he shall buy my daughter; and her presence
- Shall quite strike off all service I have done
- In most accepted pain.
- AGAMEMNON. Let Diomedes bear him,
- And bring us Cressid hither. Calchas shall have
- What he requests of us. Good Diomed,
- Furnish you fairly for this interchange;
- Withal, bring word if Hector will to-morrow
- Be answer'd in his challenge. Ajax is ready.
- DIOMEDES. This shall I undertake; and 'tis a burden
- Which I am proud to bear.
- Exeunt DIOMEDES and CALCHAS
-
- ACHILLES and PATROCLUS stand in their tent
-
- ULYSSES. Achilles stands i' th' entrance of his tent.
- Please it our general pass strangely by him,
- As if he were forgot; and, Princes all,
- Lay negligent and loose regard upon him.
- I will come last. 'Tis like he'll question me
- Why such unplausive eyes are bent, why turn'd on him?
- If so, I have derision med'cinable
- To use between your strangeness and his pride,
- Which his own will shall have desire to drink.
- It may do good. Pride hath no other glass
- To show itself but pride; for supple knees
- Feed arrogance and are the proud man's fees.
- AGAMEMNON. We'll execute your purpose, and put on
- A form of strangeness as we pass along.
- So do each lord; and either greet him not,
- Or else disdainfully, which shall shake him more
- Than if not look'd on. I will lead the way.
- ACHILLES. What comes the general to speak with me?
- You know my mind. I'll fight no more 'gainst Troy.
- AGAMEMNON. What says Achilles? Would he aught with us?
- NESTOR. Would you, my lord, aught with the general?
- ACHILLES. No.
- NESTOR. Nothing, my lord.
- AGAMEMNON. The better.
- Exeunt AGAMEMNON and NESTOR
- ACHILLES. Good day, good day.
- MENELAUS. How do you? How do you? Exit
- ACHILLES. What, does the cuckold scorn me?
- AJAX. How now, Patroclus?
- ACHILLES. Good morrow, Ajax.
- AJAX. Ha?
- ACHILLES. Good morrow.
- AJAX. Ay, and good next day too. Exit
- ACHILLES. What mean these fellows? Know they not Achilles?
- PATROCLUS. They pass by strangely. They were us'd to bend,
- To send their smiles before them to Achilles,
- To come as humbly as they us'd to creep
- To holy altars.
- ACHILLES. What, am I poor of late?
- 'Tis certain, greatness, once fall'n out with fortune,
- Must fall out with men too. What the declin'd is,
- He shall as soon read in the eyes of others
- As feel in his own fall; for men, like butterflies,
- Show not their mealy wings but to the summer;
- And not a man for being simply man
- Hath any honour, but honour for those honours
- That are without him, as place, riches, and favour,
- Prizes of accident, as oft as merit;
- Which when they fall, as being slippery standers,
- The love that lean'd on them as slippery too,
- Doth one pluck down another, and together
- Die in the fall. But 'tis not so with me:
- Fortune and I are friends; I do enjoy
- At ample point all that I did possess
- Save these men's looks; who do, methinks, find out
- Something not worth in me such rich beholding
- As they have often given. Here is Ulysses.
- I'll interrupt his reading.
- How now, Ulysses!
- ULYSSES. Now, great Thetis' son!
- ACHILLES. What are you reading?
- ULYSSES. A strange fellow here
- Writes me that man-how dearly ever parted,
- How much in having, or without or in-
- Cannot make boast to have that which he hath,
- Nor feels not what he owes, but by reflection;
- As when his virtues shining upon others
- Heat them, and they retort that heat again
- To the first giver.
- ACHILLES. This is not strange, Ulysses.
- The beauty that is borne here in the face
- The bearer knows not, but commends itself
- To others' eyes; nor doth the eye itself-
- That most pure spirit of sense-behold itself,
- Not going from itself; but eye to eye opposed
- Salutes each other with each other's form;
- For speculation turns not to itself
- Till it hath travell'd, and is mirror'd there
- Where it may see itself. This is not strange at all.
- ULYSSES. I do not strain at the position-
- It is familiar-but at the author's drift;
- Who, in his circumstance, expressly proves
- That no man is the lord of anything,
- Though in and of him there be much consisting,
- Till he communicate his parts to others;
- Nor doth he of himself know them for aught
- Till he behold them formed in th' applause
- Where th' are extended; who, like an arch, reverb'rate
- The voice again; or, like a gate of steel
- Fronting the sun, receives and renders back
- His figure and his heat. I was much rapt in this;
- And apprehended here immediately
- Th' unknown Ajax. Heavens, what a man is there!
- A very horse that has he knows not what!
- Nature, what things there are
- Most abject in regard and dear in use!
- What things again most dear in the esteem
- And poor in worth! Now shall we see to-morrow-
- An act that very chance doth throw upon him-
- Ajax renown'd. O heavens, what some men do,
- While some men leave to do!
- How some men creep in skittish Fortune's-hall,
- Whiles others play the idiots in her eyes!
- How one man eats into another's pride,
- While pride is fasting in his wantonness!
- To see these Grecian lords!-why, even already
- They clap the lubber Ajax on the shoulder,
- As if his foot were on brave Hector's breast,
- And great Troy shrinking.
- ACHILLES. I do believe it; for they pass'd by me
- As misers do by beggars-neither gave to me
- Good word nor look. What, are my deeds forgot?
- ULYSSES. Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back,
- Wherein he puts alms for oblivion,
- A great-siz'd monster of ingratitudes.
- Those scraps are good deeds past, which are devour'd
- As fast as they are made, forgot as soon
- As done. Perseverance, dear my lord,
- Keeps honour bright. To have done is to hang
- Quite out of fashion, like a rusty mail
- In monumental mock'ry. Take the instant way;
- For honour travels in a strait so narrow -
- Where one but goes abreast. Keep then the path,
- For emulation hath a thousand sons
- That one by one pursue; if you give way,
- Or hedge aside from the direct forthright,
- Like to an ent'red tide they all rush by
- And leave you hindmost;
- Or, like a gallant horse fall'n in first rank,
- Lie there for pavement to the abject rear,
- O'er-run and trampled on. Then what they do in present,
- Though less than yours in past, must o'ertop yours;
- For Time is like a fashionable host,
- That slightly shakes his parting guest by th' hand;
- And with his arms out-stretch'd, as he would fly,
- Grasps in the corner. The welcome ever smiles,
- And farewell goes out sighing. O, let not virtue seek
- Remuneration for the thing it was;
- For beauty, wit,
- High birth, vigour of bone, desert in service,
- Love, friendship, charity, are subjects all
- To envious and calumniating Time.
- One touch of nature makes the whole world kin-
- That all with one consent praise new-born gawds,
- Though they are made and moulded of things past,
- And give to dust that is a little gilt
- More laud than gilt o'er-dusted.
- The present eye praises the present object.
- Then marvel not, thou great and complete man,
- That all the Greeks begin to worship Ajax,
- Since things in motion sooner catch the eye
- Than what stirs not. The cry went once on thee,
- And still it might, and yet it may again,
- If thou wouldst not entomb thyself alive
- And case thy reputation in thy tent,
- Whose glorious deeds but in these fields of late
- Made emulous missions 'mongst the gods themselves,
- And drave great Mars to faction.
- ACHILLES. Of this my privacy
- I have strong reasons.
- ULYSSES. But 'gainst your privacy
- The reasons are more potent and heroical.
- 'Tis known, Achilles, that you are in love
- With one of Priam's daughters.
- ACHILLES. Ha! known!
- ULYSSES. Is that a wonder?
- The providence that's in a watchful state
- Knows almost every grain of Plutus' gold;
- Finds bottom in th' uncomprehensive deeps;
- Keeps place with thought, and almost, like the gods,
- Do thoughts unveil in their dumb cradles.
- There is a mystery-with whom relation
- Durst never meddle-in the soul of state,
- Which hath an operation more divine
- Than breath or pen can give expressure to.
- All the commerce that you have had with Troy
- As perfectly is ours as yours, my lord;
- And better would it fit Achilles much
- To throw down Hector than Polyxena.
- But it must grieve young Pyrrhus now at home,
- When fame shall in our island sound her trump,
- And all the Greekish girls shall tripping sing
- 'Great Hector's sister did Achilles win;
- But our great Ajax bravely beat down him.'
- Farewell, my lord. I as your lover speak.
- The fool slides o'er the ice that you should break. Exit
- PATROCLUS. To this effect, Achilles, have I mov'd you.
- A woman impudent and mannish grown
- Is not more loath'd than an effeminate man
- In time of action. I stand condemn'd for this;
- They think my little stomach to the war
- And your great love to me restrains you thus.
- Sweet, rouse yourself; and the weak wanton Cupid
- Shall from your neck unloose his amorous fold,
- And, like a dew-drop from the lion's mane,
- Be shook to airy air.
- ACHILLES. Shall Ajax fight with Hector?
- PATROCLUS. Ay, and perhaps receive much honour by him.
- ACHILLES. I see my reputation is at stake;
- My fame is shrewdly gor'd.
- PATROCLUS. O, then, beware:
- Those wounds heal ill that men do give themselves;
- Omission to do what is necessary
- Seals a commission to a blank of danger;
- And danger, like an ague, subtly taints
- Even then when they sit idly in the sun.
- ACHILLES. Go call Thersites hither, sweet Patroclus.
- I'll send the fool to Ajax, and desire him
- T' invite the Troyan lords, after the combat,
- To see us here unarm'd. I have a woman's longing,
- An appetite that I am sick withal,
- To see great Hector in his weeds of peace;
- To talk with him, and to behold his visage,
- Even to my full of view.
-
- Enter THERSITES
-
- A labour sav'd!
- THERSITES. A wonder!
- ACHILLES. What?
- THERSITES. Ajax goes up and down the field asking for himself.
- ACHILLES. How so?
- THERSITES. He must fight singly to-morrow with Hector, and is so
- prophetically proud of an heroical cudgelling that he raves in
- saying nothing.
- ACHILLES. How can that be?
- THERSITES. Why, 'a stalks up and down like a peacock-a stride and a
- stand; ruminaies like an hostess that hath no arithmetic but her
- brain to set down her reckoning, bites his lip with a politic
- regard, as who should say 'There were wit in this head, an
- 'twould out'; and so there is; but it lies as coldly in him as
- fire in a flint, which will not show without knocking. The man's
- undone for ever; for if Hector break not his neck i' th' combat,
- he'll break't himself in vainglory. He knows not me. I said 'Good
- morrow, Ajax'; and he replies 'Thanks, Agamemnon.' What think you
- of this man that takes me for the general? He's grown a very land
- fish, languageless, a monster. A plague of opinion! A man may
- wear it on both sides, like leather jerkin.
- ACHILLES. Thou must be my ambassador to him, Thersites.
- THERSITES. Who, I? Why, he'll answer nobody; he professes not
- answering. Speaking is for beggars: he wears his tongue in's
- arms. I will put on his presence. Let Patroclus make his demands
- to me, you shall see the pageant of Ajax.
- ACHILLES. To him, Patroclus. Tell him I humbly desire the valiant
- Ajax to invite the most valorous Hector to come unarm'd to my
- tent; and to procure safe conduct for his person of the
- magnanimous and most illustrious six-or-seven-times-honour'd
- Captain General of the Grecian army, et cetera, Agamemnon. Do
- this.
- PATROCLUS. Jove bless great Ajax!
- THERSITES. Hum!
- PATROCLUS. I come from the worthy Achilles-
- THERSITES. Ha!
- PATROCLUS. Who most humbly desires you to invite Hector to his
- tent-
- THERSITES. Hum!
- PATROCLUS. And to procure safe conduct from Agamemnon.
- THERSITES. Agamemnon!
- PATROCLUS. Ay, my lord.
- THERSITES. Ha!
- PATROCLUS. What you say to't?
- THERSITES. God buy you, with all my heart.
- PATROCLUS. Your answer, sir.
- THERSITES. If to-morrow be a fair day, by eleven of the clock it
- will go one way or other. Howsoever, he shall pay for me ere he
- has me.
- PATROCLUS. Your answer, sir.
- THERSITES. Fare ye well, with all my heart.
- ACHILLES. Why, but he is not in this tune, is he?
- THERSITES. No, but he's out a tune thus. What music will be in him
- when Hector has knock'd out his brains I know not; but, I am sure,
- none; unless the fiddler Apollo get his sinews to make catlings
- on.
- ACHILLES. Come, thou shalt bear a letter to him straight.
- THERSITES. Let me carry another to his horse; for that's the more
- capable creature.
- ACHILLES. My mind is troubled, like a fountain stirr'd;
- And I myself see not the bottom of it.
- Exeunt ACHILLES and PATROCLUS
- THERSITES. Would the fountain of your mind were clear again, that I
- might water an ass at it. I had rather be a tick in a sheep than
- such a valiant ignorance. Exit
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT IV. SCENE 1.
-Troy. A street
-
-Enter, at one side, AENEAS, and servant with a torch; at another,
-PARIS, DEIPHOBUS, ANTENOR, DIOMEDES the Grecian, and others, with torches
-
- PARIS. See, ho! Who is that there?
- DEIPHOBUS. It is the Lord Aeneas.
- AENEAS. Is the Prince there in person?
- Had I so good occasion to lie long
- As you, Prince Paris, nothing but heavenly business
- Should rob my bed-mate of my company.
- DIOMEDES. That's my mind too. Good morrow, Lord Aeneas.
- PARIS. A valiant Greek, Aeneas -take his hand:
- Witness the process of your speech, wherein
- You told how Diomed, a whole week by days,
- Did haunt you in the field.
- AENEAS. Health to you, valiant sir,
- During all question of the gentle truce;
- But when I meet you arm'd, as black defiance
- As heart can think or courage execute.
- DIOMEDES. The one and other Diomed embraces.
- Our bloods are now in calm; and so long health!
- But when contention and occasion meet,
- By Jove, I'll play the hunter for thy life
- With all my force, pursuit, and policy.
- AENEAS. And thou shalt hunt a lion, that will fly
- With his face backward. In humane gentleness,
- Welcome to Troy! now, by Anchises' life,
- Welcome indeed! By Venus' hand I swear
- No man alive can love in such a sort
- The thing he means to kill, more excellently.
- DIOMEDES. We sympathise. Jove let Aeneas live,
- If to my sword his fate be not the glory,
- A thousand complete courses of the sun!
- But in mine emulous honour let him die
- With every joint a wound, and that to-morrow!
- AENEAS. We know each other well.
- DIOMEDES.We do; and long to know each other worse.
- PARIS. This is the most despiteful'st gentle greeting
- The noblest hateful love, that e'er I heard of.
- What business, lord, so early?
- AENEAS. I was sent for to the King; but why, I know not.
- PARIS. His purpose meets you: 'twas to bring this Greek
- To Calchas' house, and there to render him,
- For the enfreed Antenor, the fair Cressid.
- Let's have your company; or, if you please,
- Haste there before us. I constantly believe-
- Or rather call my thought a certain knowledge-
- My brother Troilus lodges there to-night.
- Rouse him and give him note of our approach,
- With the whole quality wherefore; I fear
- We shall be much unwelcome.
- AENEAS. That I assure you:
- Troilus had rather Troy were borne to Greece
- Than Cressid borne from Troy.
- PARIS. There is no help;
- The bitter disposition of the time
- Will have it so. On, lord; we'll follow you.
- AENEAS. Good morrow, all. Exit with servant
- PARIS. And tell me, noble Diomed-faith, tell me true,
- Even in the soul of sound good-fellowship-
- Who in your thoughts deserves fair Helen best,
- Myself or Menelaus?
- DIOMEDES. Both alike:
- He merits well to have her that doth seek her,
- Not making any scruple of her soilure,
- With such a hell of pain and world of charge;
- And you as well to keep her that defend her,
- Not palating the taste of her dishonour,
- With such a costly loss of wealth and friends.
- He like a puling cuckold would drink up
- The lees and dregs of a flat tamed piece;
- You, like a lecher, out of whorish loins
- Are pleas'd to breed out your inheritors.
- Both merits pois'd, each weighs nor less nor more;
- But he as he, the heavier for a whore.
- PARIS. You are too bitter to your country-woman.
- DIOMEDES. She's bitter to her country. Hear me, Paris:
- For every false drop in her bawdy veins
- A Grecian's life hath sunk; for every scruple
- Of her contaminated carrion weight
- A Troyan hath been slain; since she could speak,
- She hath not given so many good words breath
- As for her Greeks and Troyans suff'red death.
- PARIS. Fair Diomed, you do as chapmen do,
- Dispraise the thing that you desire to buy;
- But we in silence hold this virtue well:
- We'll not commend what we intend to sell.
- Here lies our way. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-ACT IV. SCENE 2.
-Troy. The court of PANDARUS' house
-
-Enter TROILUS and CRESSIDA
-
- TROILUS. Dear, trouble not yourself; the morn is cold.
- CRESSIDA. Then, sweet my lord, I'll call mine uncle down;
- He shall unbolt the gates.
- TROILUS. Trouble him not;
- To bed, to bed! Sleep kill those pretty eyes,
- And give as soft attachment to thy senses
- As infants' empty of all thought!
- CRESSIDA. Good morrow, then.
- TROILUS. I prithee now, to bed.
- CRESSIDA. Are you aweary of me?
- TROILUS. O Cressida! but that the busy day,
- Wak'd by the lark, hath rous'd the ribald crows,
- And dreaming night will hide our joys no longer,
- I would not from thee.
- CRESSIDA. Night hath been too brief.
- TROILUS. Beshrew the witch! with venomous wights she stays
- As tediously as hell, but flies the grasps of love
- With wings more momentary-swift than thought.
- You will catch cold, and curse me.
- CRESSIDA. Prithee tarry.
- You men will never tarry.
- O foolish Cressid! I might have still held off,
- And then you would have tarried. Hark! there's one up.
- PANDARUS. [Within] What's all the doors open here?
- TROILUS. It is your uncle.
-
- Enter PANDARUS
-
- CRESSIDA. A pestilence on him! Now will he be mocking.
- I shall have such a life!
- PANDARUS. How now, how now! How go maidenheads?
- Here, you maid! Where's my cousin Cressid?
- CRESSIDA. Go hang yourself, you naughty mocking uncle.
- You bring me to do, and then you flout me too.
- PANDARUS. To do what? to do what? Let her say what.
- What have I brought you to do?
- CRESSIDA. Come, come, beshrew your heart! You'll ne'er be good,
- Nor suffer others.
- PANDARUS. Ha, ha! Alas, poor wretch! a poor capocchia! hast not
- slept to-night? Would he not, a naughty man, let it sleep? A
- bugbear take him!
- CRESSIDA. Did not I tell you? Would he were knock'd i' th' head!
- [One knocks]
- Who's that at door? Good uncle, go and see.
- My lord, come you again into my chamber.
- You smile and mock me, as if I meant naughtily.
- TROILUS. Ha! ha!
- CRESSIDA. Come, you are deceiv'd, I think of no such thing.
- [Knock]
- How earnestly they knock! Pray you come in:
- I would not for half Troy have you seen here.
- Exeunt TROILUS and CRESSIDA
- PANDARUS. Who's there? What's the matter? Will you beat down the
- door? How now? What's the matter?
-
- Enter AENEAS
- AENEAS. Good morrow, lord, good morrow.
- PANDARUS. Who's there? My lord Aeneas? By my troth,
- I knew you not. What news with you so early?
- AENEAS. Is not Prince Troilus here?
- PANDARUS. Here! What should he do here?
- AENEAS. Come, he is here, my lord; do not deny him.
- It doth import him much to speak with me.
- PANDARUS. Is he here, say you? It's more than I know, I'll be
- sworn. For my own part, I came in late. What should he do here?
- AENEAS. Who!-nay, then. Come, come, you'll do him wrong ere you are
- ware; you'll be so true to him to be false to him. Do not you
- know of him, but yet go fetch him hither; go.
-
- Re-enter TROILUS
-
- TROILUS. How now! What's the matter?
- AENEAS. My lord, I scarce have leisure to salute you,
- My matter is so rash. There is at hand
- Paris your brother, and Deiphobus,
- The Grecian Diomed, and our Antenor
- Deliver'd to us; and for him forthwith,
- Ere the first sacrifice, within this hour,
- We must give up to Diomedes' hand
- The Lady Cressida.
- TROILUS. Is it so concluded?
- AENEAS. By Priam, and the general state of Troy.
- They are at hand and ready to effect it.
- TROILUS. How my achievements mock me!
- I will go meet them; and, my lord Aeneas,
- We met by chance; you did not find me here.
- AENEAS. Good, good, my lord, the secrets of neighbour Pandar
- Have not more gift in taciturnity.
- Exeunt TROILUS and AENEAS
- PANDARUS. Is't possible? No sooner got but lost? The devil take
- Antenor! The young prince will go mad. A plague upon Antenor! I
- would they had broke's neck.
-
- Re-enter CRESSIDA
-
- CRESSIDA. How now! What's the matter? Who was here?
- PANDARUS. Ah, ah!
- CRESSIDA. Why sigh you so profoundly? Where's my lord? Gone? Tell
- me, sweet uncle, what's the matter?
- PANDARUS. Would I were as deep under the earth as I am above!
- CRESSIDA. O the gods! What's the matter?
- PANDARUS. Pray thee, get thee in. Would thou hadst ne'er been born!
- I knew thou wouldst be his death! O, poor gentleman! A plague
- upon Antenor!
- CRESSIDA. Good uncle, I beseech you, on my knees I beseech you,
- what's the matter?
- PANDARUS. Thou must be gone, wench, thou must be gone; thou art
- chang'd for Antenor; thou must to thy father, and be gone from
- Troilus. 'Twill be his death; 'twill be his bane; he cannot bear
- it.
- CRESSIDA. O you immortal gods! I will not go.
- PANDARUS. Thou must.
- CRESSIDA. I will not, uncle. I have forgot my father;
- I know no touch of consanguinity,
- No kin, no love, no blood, no soul so near me
- As the sweet Troilus. O you gods divine,
- Make Cressid's name the very crown of falsehood,
- If ever she leave Troilus! Time, force, and death,
- Do to this body what extremes you can,
- But the strong base and building of my love
- Is as the very centre of the earth,
- Drawing all things to it. I'll go in and weep-
- PANDARUS. Do, do.
- CRESSIDA. Tear my bright hair, and scratch my praised cheeks,
- Crack my clear voice with sobs and break my heart,
- With sounding 'Troilus.' I will not go from Troy.
- Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-ACT IV. SCENE 3.
-Troy. A street before PANDARUS' house
-
-Enter PARIS, TROILUS, AENEAS, DEIPHOBUS, ANTENOR, and DIOMEDES
-
- PARIS. It is great morning; and the hour prefix'd
- For her delivery to this valiant Greek
- Comes fast upon. Good my brother Troilus,
- Tell you the lady what she is to do
- And haste her to the purpose.
- TROILUS. Walk into her house.
- I'll bring her to the Grecian presently;
- And to his hand when I deliver her,
- Think it an altar, and thy brother Troilus
- A priest, there off'ring to it his own heart. Exit
- PARIS. I know what 'tis to love,
- And would, as I shall pity, I could help!
- Please you walk in, my lords. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-ACT IV. SCENE 4.
-Troy. PANDARUS' house
-
-Enter PANDARUS and CRESSIDA
-
- PANDARUS. Be moderate, be moderate.
- CRESSIDA. Why tell you me of moderation?
- The grief is fine, full, perfect, that I taste,
- And violenteth in a sense as strong
- As that which causeth it. How can I moderate it?
- If I could temporize with my affections
- Or brew it to a weak and colder palate,
- The like allayment could I give my grief.
- My love admits no qualifying dross;
- No more my grief, in such a precious loss.
-
- Enter TROILUS
-
- PANDARUS. Here, here, here he comes. Ah, sweet ducks!
- CRESSIDA. O Troilus! Troilus! [Embracing him]
- PANDARUS. What a pair of spectacles is here! Let me embrace too. 'O
- heart,' as the goodly saying is,
- O heart, heavy heart,
- Why sigh'st thou without breaking?
- where he answers again
- Because thou canst not ease thy smart
- By friendship nor by speaking.
- There was never a truer rhyme. Let us cast away nothing, for we
- may live to have need of such a verse. We see it, we see it. How
- now, lambs!
- TROILUS. Cressid, I love thee in so strain'd a purity
- That the bless'd gods, as angry with my fancy,
- More bright in zeal than the devotion which
- Cold lips blow to their deities, take thee from me.
- CRESSIDA. Have the gods envy?
- PANDARUS. Ay, ay, ay; 'tis too plain a case.
- CRESSIDA. And is it true that I must go from Troy?
- TROILUS. A hateful truth.
- CRESSIDA. What, and from Troilus too?
- TROILUS. From Troy and Troilus.
- CRESSIDA. Is't possible?
- TROILUS. And suddenly; where injury of chance
- Puts back leave-taking, justles roughly by
- All time of pause, rudely beguiles our lips
- Of all rejoindure, forcibly prevents
- Our lock'd embrasures, strangles our dear vows
- Even in the birth of our own labouring breath.
- We two, that with so many thousand sighs
- Did buy each other, must poorly sell ourselves
- With the rude brevity and discharge of one.
- Injurious time now with a robber's haste
- Crams his rich thievery up, he knows not how.
- As many farewells as be stars in heaven,
- With distinct breath and consign'd kisses to them,
- He fumbles up into a loose adieu,
- And scants us with a single famish'd kiss,
- Distasted with the salt of broken tears.
- AENEAS. [Within] My lord, is the lady ready?
- TROILUS. Hark! you are call'd. Some say the Genius so
- Cries 'Come' to him that instantly must die.
- Bid them have patience; she shall come anon.
- PANDARUS. Where are my tears? Rain, to lay this wind, or my heart
- will be blown up by th' root? Exit
- CRESSIDA. I must then to the Grecians?
- TROILUS. No remedy.
- CRESSIDA. A woeful Cressid 'mongst the merry Greeks!
- When shall we see again?
- TROILUS. Hear me, my love. Be thou but true of heart-
- CRESSIDA. I true! how now! What wicked deem is this?
- TROILUS. Nay, we must use expostulation kindly,
- For it is parting from us.
- I speak not 'Be thou true' as fearing thee,
- For I will throw my glove to Death himself
- That there's no maculation in thy heart;
- But 'Be thou true' say I to fashion in
- My sequent protestation: be thou true,
- And I will see thee.
- CRESSIDA. O, you shall be expos'd, my lord, to dangers
- As infinite as imminent! But I'll be true.
- TROILUS. And I'll grow friend with danger. Wear this sleeve.
- CRESSIDA. And you this glove. When shall I see you?
- TROILUS. I will corrupt the Grecian sentinels
- To give thee nightly visitation.
- But yet be true.
- CRESSIDA. O heavens! 'Be true' again!
- TROILUS. Hear why I speak it, love.
- The Grecian youths are full of quality;
- They're loving, well compos'd with gifts of nature,
- And flowing o'er with arts and exercise.
- How novelties may move, and parts with person,
- Alas, a kind of godly jealousy,
- Which I beseech you call a virtuous sin,
- Makes me afeard.
- CRESSIDA. O heavens! you love me not.
- TROILUS. Die I a villain, then!
- In this I do not call your faith in question
- So mainly as my merit. I cannot sing,
- Nor heel the high lavolt, nor sweeten talk,
- Nor play at subtle games-fair virtues all,
- To which the Grecians are most prompt and pregnant;
- But I can tell that in each grace of these
- There lurks a still and dumb-discoursive devil
- That tempts most cunningly. But be not tempted.
- CRESSIDA. Do you think I will?
- TROILUS. No.
- But something may be done that we will not;
- And sometimes we are devils to ourselves,
- When we will tempt the frailty of our powers,
- Presuming on their changeful potency.
- AENEAS. [Within] Nay, good my lord!
- TROILUS. Come, kiss; and let us part.
- PARIS. [Within] Brother Troilus!
- TROILUS. Good brother, come you hither;
- And bring Aeneas and the Grecian with you.
- CRESSIDA. My lord, will you be true?
- TROILUS. Who, I? Alas, it is my vice, my fault!
- Whiles others fish with craft for great opinion,
- I with great truth catch mere simplicity;
- Whilst some with cunning gild their copper crowns,
- With truth and plainness I do wear mine bare.
-
- Enter AENEAS, PARIS, ANTENOR, DEIPHOBUS, and DIOMEDES
-
- Fear not my truth: the moral of my wit
- Is 'plain and true'; there's all the reach of it.
- Welcome, Sir Diomed! Here is the lady
- Which for Antenor we deliver you;
- At the port, lord, I'll give her to thy hand,
- And by the way possess thee what she is.
- Entreat her fair; and, by my soul, fair Greek,
- If e'er thou stand at mercy of my sword,
- Name Cressid, and thy life shall be as safe
- As Priam is in Ilion.
- DIOMEDES. Fair Lady Cressid,
- So please you, save the thanks this prince expects.
- The lustre in your eye, heaven in your cheek,
- Pleads your fair usage; and to Diomed
- You shall be mistress, and command him wholly.
- TROILUS. Grecian, thou dost not use me courteously
- To shame the zeal of my petition to the
- In praising her. I tell thee, lord of Greece,
- She is as far high-soaring o'er thy praises
- As thou unworthy to be call'd her servant.
- I charge thee use her well, even for my charge;
- For, by the dreadful Pluto, if thou dost not,
- Though the great bulk Achilles be thy guard,
- I'll cut thy throat.
- DIOMEDES. O, be not mov'd, Prince Troilus.
- Let me be privileg'd by my place and message
- To be a speaker free: when I am hence
- I'll answer to my lust. And know you, lord,
- I'll nothing do on charge: to her own worth
- She shall be priz'd. But that you say 'Be't so,'
- I speak it in my spirit and honour, 'No.'
- TROILUS. Come, to the port. I'll tell thee, Diomed,
- This brave shall oft make thee to hide thy head.
- Lady, give me your hand; and, as we walk,
- To our own selves bend we our needful talk.
- Exeunt TROILUS, CRESSIDA, and DIOMEDES
- [Sound trumpet]
- PARIS. Hark! Hector's trumpet.
- AENEAS. How have we spent this morning!
- The Prince must think me tardy and remiss,
- That swore to ride before him to the field.
- PARIS. 'Tis Troilus' fault. Come, come to field with him.
- DEIPHOBUS. Let us make ready straight.
- AENEAS. Yea, with a bridegroom's fresh alacrity
- Let us address to tend on Hector's heels.
- The glory of our Troy doth this day lie
- On his fair worth and single chivalry. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-ACT IV. SCENE 5.
-The Grecian camp. Lists set out
-
-Enter AJAX, armed; AGAMEMNON, ACHILLES, PATROCLUS, MENELAUS, ULYSSES,
-NESTOR, and others
-
- AGAMEMNON. Here art thou in appointment fresh and fair,
- Anticipating time with starting courage.
- Give with thy trumpet a loud note to Troy,
- Thou dreadful Ajax, that the appalled air
- May pierce the head of the great combatant,
- And hale him hither.
- AJAX. Thou, trumpet, there's my purse.
- Now crack thy lungs and split thy brazen pipe;
- Blow, villain, till thy sphered bias cheek
- Out-swell the colic of puff Aquilon'd.
- Come, stretch thy chest, and let thy eyes spout blood:
- Thou blowest for Hector. [Trumpet sounds]
- ULYSSES. No trumpet answers.
- ACHILLES. 'Tis but early days.
-
- Enter DIOMEDES, with CRESSIDA
-
- AGAMEMNON. Is not yond Diomed, with Calchas' daughter?
- ULYSSES. 'Tis he, I ken the manner of his gait:
- He rises on the toe. That spirit of his
- In aspiration lifts him from the earth.
- AGAMEMNON. Is this the lady Cressid?
- DIOMEDES. Even she.
- AGAMEMNON. Most dearly welcome to the Greeks, sweet lady.
- NESTOR. Our general doth salute you with a kiss.
- ULYSSES. Yet is the kindness but particular;
- 'Twere better she were kiss'd in general.
- NESTOR. And very courtly counsel: I'll begin.
- So much for Nestor.
- ACHILLES. I'll take that winter from your lips, fair lady.
- Achilles bids you welcome.
- MENELAUS. I had good argument for kissing once.
- PATROCLUS. But that's no argument for kissing now;
- For thus popp'd Paris in his hardiment,
- And parted thus you and your argument.
- ULYSSES. O deadly gall, and theme of all our scorns!
- For which we lose our heads to gild his horns.
- PATROCLUS. The first was Menelaus' kiss; this, mine-
- [Kisses her again]
- Patroclus kisses you.
- MENELAUS. O, this is trim!
- PATROCLUS. Paris and I kiss evermore for him.
- MENELAUS. I'll have my kiss, sir. Lady, by your leave.
- CRESSIDA. In kissing, do you render or receive?
- PATROCLUS. Both take and give.
- CRESSIDA. I'll make my match to live,
- The kiss you take is better than you give;
- Therefore no kiss.
- MENELAUS. I'll give you boot; I'll give you three for one.
- CRESSIDA. You are an odd man; give even or give none.
- MENELAUS. An odd man, lady? Every man is odd.
- CRESSIDA. No, Paris is not; for you know 'tis true
- That you are odd, and he is even with you.
- MENELAUS. You fillip me o' th' head.
- CRESSIDA. No, I'll be sworn.
- ULYSSES. It were no match, your nail against his horn.
- May I, sweet lady, beg a kiss of you?
- CRESSIDA. You may.
- ULYSSES. I do desire it.
- CRESSIDA. Why, beg then.
- ULYSSES. Why then, for Venus' sake give me a kiss
- When Helen is a maid again, and his.
- CRESSIDA. I am your debtor; claim it when 'tis due.
- ULYSSES. Never's my day, and then a kiss of you.
- DIOMEDES. Lady, a word. I'll bring you to your father.
- Exit with CRESSIDA
- NESTOR. A woman of quick sense.
- ULYSSES. Fie, fie upon her!
- There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip,
- Nay, her foot speaks; her wanton spirits look out
- At every joint and motive of her body.
- O these encounters so glib of tongue
- That give a coasting welcome ere it comes,
- And wide unclasp the tables of their thoughts
- To every ticklish reader! Set them down
- For sluttish spoils of opportunity,
- And daughters of the game. [Trumpet within]
- ALL. The Troyans' trumpet.
-
- Enter HECTOR, armed; AENEAS, TROILUS, PARIS, HELENUS,
- and other Trojans, with attendants
-
- AGAMEMNON. Yonder comes the troop.
- AENEAS. Hail, all the state of Greece! What shall be done
- To him that victory commands? Or do you purpose
- A victor shall be known? Will you the knights
- Shall to the edge of all extremity
- Pursue each other, or shall they be divided
- By any voice or order of the field?
- Hector bade ask.
- AGAMEMNON. Which way would Hector have it?
- AENEAS. He cares not; he'll obey conditions.
- ACHILLES. 'Tis done like Hector; but securely done,
- A little proudly, and great deal misprizing
- The knight oppos'd.
- AENEAS. If not Achilles, sir,
- What is your name?
- ACHILLES. If not Achilles, nothing.
- AENEAS. Therefore Achilles. But whate'er, know this:
- In the extremity of great and little
- Valour and pride excel themselves in Hector;
- The one almost as infinite as all,
- The other blank as nothing. Weigh him well,
- And that which looks like pride is courtesy.
- This Ajax is half made of Hector's blood;
- In love whereof half Hector stays at home;
- Half heart, half hand, half Hector comes to seek
- This blended knight, half Troyan and half Greek.
- ACHILLES. A maiden battle then? O, I perceive you!
-
- Re-enter DIOMEDES
-
- AGAMEMNON. Here is Sir Diomed. Go, gentle knight,
- Stand by our Ajax. As you and Lord ]Eneas
- Consent upon the order of their fight,
- So be it; either to the uttermost,
- Or else a breath. The combatants being kin
- Half stints their strife before their strokes begin.
- [AJAX and HECTOR enter the lists]
- ULYSSES. They are oppos'd already.
- AGAMEMNON. What Troyan is that same that looks so heavy?
- ULYSSES. The youngest son of Priam, a true knight;
- Not yet mature, yet matchless; firm of word;
- Speaking in deeds and deedless in his tongue;
- Not soon provok'd, nor being provok'd soon calm'd;
- His heart and hand both open and both free;
- For what he has he gives, what thinks he shows,
- Yet gives he not till judgment guide his bounty,
- Nor dignifies an impair thought with breath;
- Manly as Hector, but more dangerous;
- For Hector in his blaze of wrath subscribes
- To tender objects, but he in heat of action
- Is more vindicative than jealous love.
- They call him Troilus, and on him erect
- A second hope as fairly built as Hector.
- Thus says Aeneas, one that knows the youth
- Even to his inches, and, with private soul,
- Did in great Ilion thus translate him to me.
- [Alarum. HECTOR and AJAX fight]
- AGAMEMNON. They are in action.
- NESTOR. Now, Ajax, hold thine own!
- TROILUS. Hector, thou sleep'st;
- Awake thee.
- AGAMEMNON. His blows are well dispos'd. There, Ajax!
- [Trumpets cease]
- DIOMEDES. You must no more.
- AENEAS. Princes, enough, so please you.
- AJAX. I am not warm yet; let us fight again.
- DIOMEDES. As Hector pleases.
- HECTOR. Why, then will I no more.
- Thou art, great lord, my father's sister's son,
- A cousin-german to great Priam's seed;
- The obligation of our blood forbids
- A gory emulation 'twixt us twain:
- Were thy commixtion Greek and Troyan so
- That thou could'st say 'This hand is Grecian all,
- And this is Troyan; the sinews of this leg
- All Greek, and this all Troy; my mother's blood
- Runs on the dexter cheek, and this sinister
- Bounds in my father's'; by Jove multipotent,
- Thou shouldst not bear from me a Greekish member
- Wherein my sword had not impressure made
- Of our rank feud; but the just gods gainsay
- That any drop thou borrow'dst from thy mother,
- My sacred aunt, should by my mortal sword
- Be drained! Let me embrace thee, Ajax.
- By him that thunders, thou hast lusty arms;
- Hector would have them fall upon him thus.
- Cousin, all honour to thee!
- AJAX. I thank thee, Hector.
- Thou art too gentle and too free a man.
- I came to kill thee, cousin, and bear hence
- A great addition earned in thy death.
- HECTOR. Not Neoptolemus so mirable,
- On whose bright crest Fame with her loud'st Oyes
- Cries 'This is he' could promise to himself
- A thought of added honour torn from Hector.
- AENEAS. There is expectance here from both the sides
- What further you will do.
- HECTOR. We'll answer it:
- The issue is embracement. Ajax, farewell.
- AJAX. If I might in entreaties find success,
- As seld I have the chance, I would desire
- My famous cousin to our Grecian tents.
- DIOMEDES. 'Tis Agamemnon's wish; and great Achilles
- Doth long to see unarm'd the valiant Hector.
- HECTOR. Aeneas, call my brother Troilus to me,
- And signify this loving interview
- To the expecters of our Troyan part;
- Desire them home. Give me thy hand, my cousin;
- I will go eat with thee, and see your knights.
-
- AGAMEMNON and the rest of the Greeks come forward
-
- AJAX. Great Agamemnon comes to meet us here.
- HECTOR. The worthiest of them tell me name by name;
- But for Achilles, my own searching eyes
- Shall find him by his large and portly size.
- AGAMEMNON.Worthy all arms! as welcome as to one
- That would be rid of such an enemy.
- But that's no welcome. Understand more clear,
- What's past and what's to come is strew'd with husks
- And formless ruin of oblivion;
- But in this extant moment, faith and troth,
- Strain'd purely from all hollow bias-drawing,
- Bids thee with most divine integrity,
- From heart of very heart, great Hector, welcome.
- HECTOR. I thank thee, most imperious Agamemnon.
- AGAMEMNON. [To Troilus] My well-fam'd lord of Troy, no less to you.
- MENELAUS. Let me confirm my princely brother's greeting.
- You brace of warlike brothers, welcome hither.
- HECTOR. Who must we answer?
- AENEAS. The noble Menelaus.
- HECTOR. O you, my lord? By Mars his gauntlet, thanks!
- Mock not that I affect the untraded oath;
- Your quondam wife swears still by Venus' glove.
- She's well, but bade me not commend her to you.
- MENELAUS. Name her not now, sir; she's a deadly theme.
- HECTOR. O, pardon; I offend.
- NESTOR. I have, thou gallant Troyan, seen thee oft,
- Labouring for destiny, make cruel way
- Through ranks of Greekish youth; and I have seen thee,
- As hot as Perseus, spur thy Phrygian steed,
- Despising many forfeits and subduements,
- When thou hast hung thy advanced sword i' th' air,
- Not letting it decline on the declined;
- That I have said to some my standers-by
- 'Lo, Jupiter is yonder, dealing life!'
- And I have seen thee pause and take thy breath,
- When that a ring of Greeks have hemm'd thee in,
- Like an Olympian wrestling. This have I seen;
- But this thy countenance, still lock'd in steel,
- I never saw till now. I knew thy grandsire,
- And once fought with him. He was a soldier good,
- But, by great Mars, the captain of us all,
- Never like thee. O, let an old man embrace thee;
- And, worthy warrior, welcome to our tents.
- AENEAS. 'Tis the old Nestor.
- HECTOR. Let me embrace thee, good old chronicle,
- That hast so long walk'd hand in hand with time.
- Most reverend Nestor, I am glad to clasp thee.
- NESTOR. I would my arms could match thee in contention
- As they contend with thee in courtesy.
- HECTOR. I would they could.
- NESTOR. Ha!
- By this white beard, I'd fight with thee to-morrow.
- Well, welcome, welcome! I have seen the time.
- ULYSSES. I wonder now how yonder city stands,
- When we have here her base and pillar by us.
- HECTOR. I know your favour, Lord Ulysses, well.
- Ah, sir, there's many a Greek and Troyan dead,
- Since first I saw yourself and Diomed
- In Ilion on your Greekish embassy.
- ULYSSES. Sir, I foretold you then what would ensue.
- My prophecy is but half his journey yet;
- For yonder walls, that pertly front your town,
- Yond towers, whose wanton tops do buss the clouds,
- Must kiss their own feet.
- HECTOR. I must not believe you.
- There they stand yet; and modestly I think
- The fall of every Phrygian stone will cost
- A drop of Grecian blood. The end crowns all;
- And that old common arbitrator, Time,
- Will one day end it.
- ULYSSES. So to him we leave it.
- Most gentle and most valiant Hector, welcome.
- After the General, I beseech you next
- To feast with me and see me at my tent.
- ACHILLES. I shall forestall thee, Lord Ulysses, thou!
- Now, Hector, I have fed mine eyes on thee;
- I have with exact view perus'd thee, Hector,
- And quoted joint by joint.
- HECTOR. Is this Achilles?
- ACHILLES. I am Achilles.
- HECTOR. Stand fair, I pray thee; let me look on thee.
- ACHILLES. Behold thy fill.
- HECTOR. Nay, I have done already.
- ACHILLES. Thou art too brief. I will the second time,
- As I would buy thee, view thee limb by limb.
- HECTOR. O, like a book of sport thou'lt read me o'er;
- But there's more in me than thou understand'st.
- Why dost thou so oppress me with thine eye?
- ACHILLES. Tell me, you heavens, in which part of his body
- Shall I destroy him? Whether there, or there, or there?
- That I may give the local wound a name,
- And make distinct the very breach whereout
- Hector's great spirit flew. Answer me, heavens.
- HECTOR. It would discredit the blest gods, proud man,
- To answer such a question. Stand again.
- Think'st thou to catch my life so pleasantly
- As to prenominate in nice conjecture
- Where thou wilt hit me dead?
- ACHILLES. I tell thee yea.
- HECTOR. Wert thou an oracle to tell me so,
- I'd not believe thee. Henceforth guard thee well;
- For I'll not kill thee there, nor there, nor there;
- But, by the forge that stithied Mars his helm,
- I'll kill thee everywhere, yea, o'er and o'er.
- You wisest Grecians, pardon me this brag.
- His insolence draws folly from my lips;
- But I'll endeavour deeds to match these words,
- Or may I never-
- AJAX. Do not chafe thee, cousin;
- And you, Achilles, let these threats alone
- Till accident or purpose bring you to't.
- You may have every day enough of Hector,
- If you have stomach. The general state, I fear,
- Can scarce entreat you to be odd with him.
- HECTOR. I pray you let us see you in the field;
- We have had pelting wars since you refus'd
- The Grecians' cause.
- ACHILLES. Dost thou entreat me, Hector?
- To-morrow do I meet thee, fell as death;
- To-night all friends.
- HECTOR. Thy hand upon that match.
- AGAMEMNON. First, all you peers of Greece, go to my tent;
- There in the full convive we; afterwards,
- As Hector's leisure and your bounties shall
- Concur together, severally entreat him.
- Beat loud the tambourines, let the trumpets blow,
- That this great soldier may his welcome know.
- Exeunt all but TROILUS and ULYSSES
- TROILUS. My Lord Ulysses, tell me, I beseech you,
- In what place of the field doth Calchas keep?
- ULYSSES. At Menelaus' tent, most princely Troilus.
- There Diomed doth feast with him to-night,
- Who neither looks upon the heaven nor earth,
- But gives all gaze and bent of amorous view
- On the fair Cressid.
- TROILUS. Shall I, sweet lord, be bound to you so much,
- After we part from Agamemnon's tent,
- To bring me thither?
- ULYSSES. You shall command me, sir.
- As gentle tell me of what honour was
- This Cressida in Troy? Had she no lover there
- That wails her absence?
- TROILUS. O, sir, to such as boasting show their scars
- A mock is due. Will you walk on, my lord?
- She was belov'd, she lov'd; she is, and doth;
- But still sweet love is food for fortune's tooth. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT V. SCENE 1.
-The Grecian camp. Before the tent of ACHILLES
-
-Enter ACHILLES and PATROCLUS
-
- ACHILLES. I'll heat his blood with Greekish wine to-night,
- Which with my scimitar I'll cool to-morrow.
- Patroclus, let us feast him to the height.
- PATROCLUS. Here comes Thersites.
-
- Enter THERSITES
-
- ACHILLES. How now, thou core of envy!
- Thou crusty batch of nature, what's the news?
- THERSITES. Why, thou picture of what thou seemest, and idol of
- idiot worshippers, here's a letter for thee.
- ACHILLES. From whence, fragment?
- THERSITES. Why, thou full dish of fool, from Troy.
- PATROCLUS. Who keeps the tent now?
- THERSITES. The surgeon's box or the patient's wound.
- PATROCLUS. Well said, Adversity! and what needs these tricks?
- THERSITES. Prithee, be silent, boy; I profit not by thy talk; thou
- art said to be Achilles' male varlet.
- PATROCLUS. Male varlet, you rogue! What's that?
- THERSITES. Why, his masculine whore. Now, the rotten diseases of
- the south, the guts-griping ruptures, catarrhs, loads o' gravel
- in the back, lethargies, cold palsies, raw eyes, dirt-rotten
- livers, wheezing lungs, bladders full of imposthume, sciaticas,
- limekilns i' th' palm, incurable bone-ache, and the rivelled fee-
- simple of the tetter, take and take again such preposterous
- discoveries!
- PATROCLUS. Why, thou damnable box of envy, thou, what meanest thou
- to curse thus?
- THERSITES. Do I curse thee?
- PATROCLUS. Why, no, you ruinous butt; you whoreson
- indistinguishable cur, no.
- THERSITES. No! Why art thou, then, exasperate, thou idle immaterial
- skein of sleid silk, thou green sarcenet flap for a sore eye,
- thou tassel of a prodigal's purse, thou? Ah, how the poor world is
- pest'red with such water-flies-diminutives of nature!
- PATROCLUS. Out, gall!
- THERSITES. Finch egg!
- ACHILLES. My sweet Patroclus, I am thwarted quite
- From my great purpose in to-morrow's battle.
- Here is a letter from Queen Hecuba,
- A token from her daughter, my fair love,
- Both taxing me and gaging me to keep
- An oath that I have sworn. I will not break it.
- Fall Greeks; fail fame; honour or go or stay;
- My major vow lies here, this I'll obey.
- Come, come, Thersites, help to trim my tent;
- This night in banqueting must all be spent.
- Away, Patroclus! Exit with PATROCLUS
- THERSITES. With too much blood and too little brain these two may
- run mad; but, if with too much brain and to little blood they do,
- I'll be a curer of madmen. Here's Agamemnon, an honest fellow
- enough, and one that loves quails, but he has not so much brain
- as ear-wax; and the goodly transformation of Jupiter there, his
- brother, the bull, the primitive statue and oblique memorial of
- cuckolds, a thrifty shoeing-horn in a chain, hanging at his
- brother's leg-to what form but that he is, should wit larded with
- malice, and malice forced with wit, turn him to? To an ass, were
- nothing: he is both ass and ox. To an ox, were nothing: he is both
- ox and ass. To be a dog, a mule, a cat, a fitchew, a toad, a
- lizard, an owl, a put-tock, or a herring without a roe, I would
- not care; but to be Menelaus, I would conspire against destiny.
- Ask me not what I would be, if I were not Thersites; for I care
- not to be the louse of a lazar, so I were not Menelaus. Hey-day!
- sprites and fires!
-
- Enter HECTOR, TROILUS, AJAX, AGAMEMNON, ULYSSES,
- NESTOR, MENELAUS, and DIOMEDES, with lights
-
- AGAMEMNON. We go wrong, we go wrong.
- AJAX. No, yonder 'tis;
- There, where we see the lights.
- HECTOR. I trouble you.
- AJAX. No, not a whit.
-
- Re-enter ACHILLES
-
- ULYSSES. Here comes himself to guide you.
- ACHILLES. Welcome, brave Hector; welcome, Princes all.
- AGAMEMNON. So now, fair Prince of Troy, I bid good night;
- Ajax commands the guard to tend on you.
- HECTOR. Thanks, and good night to the Greeks' general.
- MENELAUS. Good night, my lord.
- HECTOR. Good night, sweet Lord Menelaus.
- THERSITES. Sweet draught! 'Sweet' quoth 'a?
- Sweet sink, sweet sewer!
- ACHILLES. Good night and welcome, both at once, to those
- That go or tarry.
- AGAMEMNON. Good night.
- Exeunt AGAMEMNON and MENELAUS
- ACHILLES. Old Nestor tarries; and you too, Diomed,
- Keep Hector company an hour or two.
- DIOMEDES. I cannot, lord; I have important business,
- The tide whereof is now. Good night, great Hector.
- HECTOR. Give me your hand.
- ULYSSES. [Aside to TROILUS] Follow his torch; he goes to
- Calchas' tent; I'll keep you company.
- TROILUS. Sweet sir, you honour me.
- HECTOR. And so, good night.
- Exit DIOMEDES; ULYSSES and TROILUS following
- ACHILLES. Come, come, enter my tent.
- Exeunt all but THERSITES
- THERSITES. That same Diomed's a false-hearted rogue, a most unjust
- knave; I will no more trust him when he leers than I will a
- serpent when he hisses. He will spend his mouth and promise, like
- Brabbler the hound; but when he performs, astronomers foretell
- it: it is prodigious, there will come some change; the sun
- borrows of the moon when Diomed keeps his word. I will rather
- leave to see Hector than not to dog him. They say he keeps a
- Troyan drab, and uses the traitor Calchas' tent. I'll after.
- Nothing but lechery! All incontinent varlets! Exit
-
-
-
-
-ACT V. SCENE 2.
-The Grecian camp. Before CALCHAS' tent
-
-Enter DIOMEDES
-
- DIOMEDES. What, are you up here, ho? Speak.
- CALCHAS. [Within] Who calls?
- DIOMEDES. Diomed. Calchas, I think. Where's your daughter?
- CALCHAS. [Within] She comes to you.
-
- Enter TROILUS and ULYSSES, at a distance; after them
- THERSITES
-
- ULYSSES. Stand where the torch may not discover us.
-
- Enter CRESSIDA
-
- TROILUS. Cressid comes forth to him.
- DIOMEDES. How now, my charge!
- CRESSIDA. Now, my sweet guardian! Hark, a word with you.
-[Whispers]
- TROILUS. Yea, so familiar!
- ULYSSES. She will sing any man at first sight.
- THERSITES. And any man may sing her, if he can take her cliff;
- she's noted.
- DIOMEDES. Will you remember?
- CRESSIDA. Remember? Yes.
- DIOMEDES. Nay, but do, then;
- And let your mind be coupled with your words.
- TROILUS. What shall she remember?
- ULYSSES. List!
- CRESSIDA. Sweet honey Greek, tempt me no more to folly.
- THERSITES. Roguery!
- DIOMEDES. Nay, then-
- CRESSIDA. I'll tell you what-
- DIOMEDES. Fo, fo! come, tell a pin; you are a forsworn-
- CRESSIDA. In faith, I cannot. What would you have me do?
- THERSITES. A juggling trick, to be secretly open.
- DIOMEDES. What did you swear you would bestow on me?
- CRESSIDA. I prithee, do not hold me to mine oath;
- Bid me do anything but that, sweet Greek.
- DIOMEDES. Good night.
- TROILUS. Hold, patience!
- ULYSSES. How now, Troyan!
- CRESSIDA. Diomed!
- DIOMEDES. No, no, good night; I'll be your fool no more.
- TROILUS. Thy better must.
- CRESSIDA. Hark! a word in your ear.
- TROILUS. O plague and madness!
- ULYSSES. You are moved, Prince; let us depart, I pray,
- Lest your displeasure should enlarge itself
- To wrathful terms. This place is dangerous;
- The time right deadly; I beseech you, go.
- TROILUS. Behold, I pray you.
- ULYSSES. Nay, good my lord, go off;
- You flow to great distraction; come, my lord.
- TROILUS. I prithee stay.
- ULYSSES. You have not patience; come.
- TROILUS. I pray you, stay; by hell and all hell's torments,
- I will not speak a word.
- DIOMEDES. And so, good night.
- CRESSIDA. Nay, but you part in anger.
- TROILUS. Doth that grieve thee? O withered truth!
- ULYSSES. How now, my lord?
- TROILUS. By Jove, I will be patient.
- CRESSIDA. Guardian! Why, Greek!
- DIOMEDES. Fo, fo! adieu! you palter.
- CRESSIDA. In faith, I do not. Come hither once again.
- ULYSSES. You shake, my lord, at something; will you go?
- You will break out.
- TROILUS. She strokes his cheek.
- ULYSSES. Come, come.
- TROILUS. Nay, stay; by Jove, I will not speak a word:
- There is between my will and all offences
- A guard of patience. Stay a little while.
- THERSITES. How the devil luxury, with his fat rump and potato
- finger, tickles these together! Fry, lechery, fry!
- DIOMEDES. But will you, then?
- CRESSIDA. In faith, I will, lo; never trust me else.
- DIOMEDES. Give me some token for the surety of it.
- CRESSIDA. I'll fetch you one. Exit
- ULYSSES. You have sworn patience.
- TROILUS. Fear me not, my lord;
- I will not be myself, nor have cognition
- Of what I feel. I am all patience.
-
- Re-enter CRESSIDA
-
- THERSITES. Now the pledge; now, now, now!
- CRESSIDA. Here, Diomed, keep this sleeve.
- TROILUS. O beauty! where is thy faith?
- ULYSSES. My lord!
- TROILUS. I will be patient; outwardly I will.
- CRESSIDA. You look upon that sleeve; behold it well.
- He lov'd me-O false wench!-Give't me again.
- DIOMEDES. Whose was't?
- CRESSIDA. It is no matter, now I ha't again.
- I will not meet with you to-morrow night.
- I prithee, Diomed, visit me no more.
- THERSITES. Now she sharpens. Well said, whetstone.
- DIOMEDES. I shall have it.
- CRESSIDA. What, this?
- DIOMEDES. Ay, that.
- CRESSIDA. O all you gods! O pretty, pretty pledge!
- Thy master now lies thinking on his bed
- Of thee and me, and sighs, and takes my glove,
- And gives memorial dainty kisses to it,
- As I kiss thee. Nay, do not snatch it from me;
- He that takes that doth take my heart withal.
- DIOMEDES. I had your heart before; this follows it.
- TROILUS. I did swear patience.
- CRESSIDA. You shall not have it, Diomed; faith, you shall not;
- I'll give you something else.
- DIOMEDES. I will have this. Whose was it?
- CRESSIDA. It is no matter.
- DIOMEDES. Come, tell me whose it was.
- CRESSIDA. 'Twas one's that lov'd me better than you will.
- But, now you have it, take it.
- DIOMEDES. Whose was it?
- CRESSIDA. By all Diana's waiting women yond,
- And by herself, I will not tell you whose.
- DIOMEDES. To-morrow will I wear it on my helm,
- And grieve his spirit that dares not challenge it.
- TROILUS. Wert thou the devil and wor'st it on thy horn,
- It should be challeng'd.
- CRESSIDA. Well, well, 'tis done, 'tis past; and yet it is not;
- I will not keep my word.
- DIOMEDES. Why, then farewell;
- Thou never shalt mock Diomed again.
- CRESSIDA. You shall not go. One cannot speak a word
- But it straight starts you.
- DIOMEDES. I do not like this fooling.
- THERSITES. Nor I, by Pluto; but that that likes not you
- Pleases me best.
- DIOMEDES. What, shall I come? The hour-
- CRESSIDA. Ay, come-O Jove! Do come. I shall be plagu'd.
- DIOMEDES. Farewell till then.
- CRESSIDA. Good night. I prithee come. Exit DIOMEDES
- Troilus, farewell! One eye yet looks on thee;
- But with my heart the other eye doth see.
- Ah, poor our sex! this fault in us I find,
- The error of our eye directs our mind.
- What error leads must err; O, then conclude,
- Minds sway'd by eyes are full of turpitude. Exit
- THERSITES. A proof of strength she could not publish more,
- Unless she said 'My mind is now turn'd whore.'
- ULYSSES. All's done, my lord.
- TROILUS. It is.
- ULYSSES. Why stay we, then?
- TROILUS. To make a recordation to my soul
- Of every syllable that here was spoke.
- But if I tell how these two did coact,
- Shall I not lie in publishing a truth?
- Sith yet there is a credence in my heart,
- An esperance so obstinately strong,
- That doth invert th' attest of eyes and ears;
- As if those organs had deceptious functions
- Created only to calumniate.
- Was Cressid here?
- ULYSSES. I cannot conjure, Troyan.
- TROILUS. She was not, sure.
- ULYSSES. Most sure she was.
- TROILUS. Why, my negation hath no taste of madness.
- ULYSSES. Nor mine, my lord. Cressid was here but now.
- TROILUS. Let it not be believ'd for womanhood.
- Think, we had mothers; do not give advantage
- To stubborn critics, apt, without a theme,
- For depravation, to square the general sex
- By Cressid's rule. Rather think this not Cressid.
- ULYSSES. What hath she done, Prince, that can soil our mothers?
- TROILUS. Nothing at all, unless that this were she.
- THERSITES. Will 'a swagger himself out on's own eyes?
- TROILUS. This she? No; this is Diomed's Cressida.
- If beauty have a soul, this is not she;
- If souls guide vows, if vows be sanctimonies,
- If sanctimony be the god's delight,
- If there be rule in unity itself,
- This was not she. O madness of discourse,
- That cause sets up with and against itself!
- Bifold authority! where reason can revolt
- Without perdition, and loss assume all reason
- Without revolt: this is, and is not, Cressid.
- Within my soul there doth conduce a fight
- Of this strange nature, that a thing inseparate
- Divides more wider than the sky and earth;
- And yet the spacious breadth of this division
- Admits no orifex for a point as subtle
- As Ariachne's broken woof to enter.
- Instance, O instance! strong as Pluto's gates:
- Cressid is mine, tied with the bonds of heaven.
- Instance, O instance! strong as heaven itself:
- The bonds of heaven are slipp'd, dissolv'd, and loos'd;
- And with another knot, five-finger-tied,
- The fractions of her faith, orts of her love,
- The fragments, scraps, the bits, and greasy relics
- Of her o'er-eaten faith, are bound to Diomed.
- ULYSSES. May worthy Troilus be half-attach'd
- With that which here his passion doth express?
- TROILUS. Ay, Greek; and that shall be divulged well
- In characters as red as Mars his heart
- Inflam'd with Venus. Never did young man fancy
- With so eternal and so fix'd a soul.
- Hark, Greek: as much as I do Cressid love,
- So much by weight hate I her Diomed.
- That sleeve is mine that he'll bear on his helm;
- Were it a casque compos'd by Vulcan's skill
- My sword should bite it. Not the dreadful spout
- Which shipmen do the hurricano call,
- Constring'd in mass by the almighty sun,
- Shall dizzy with more clamour Neptune's ear
- In his descent than shall my prompted sword
- Falling on Diomed.
- THERSITES. He'll tickle it for his concupy.
- TROILUS. O Cressid! O false Cressid! false, false, false!
- Let all untruths stand by thy stained name,
- And they'll seem glorious.
- ULYSSES. O, contain yourself;
- Your passion draws ears hither.
-
- Enter AENEAS
-
- AENEAS. I have been seeking you this hour, my lord.
- Hector, by this, is arming him in Troy;
- Ajax, your guard, stays to conduct you home.
- TROILUS. Have with you, Prince. My courteous lord, adieu.
- Fairwell, revolted fair!-and, Diomed,
- Stand fast and wear a castle on thy head.
- ULYSSES. I'll bring you to the gates.
- TROILUS. Accept distracted thanks.
-
- Exeunt TROILUS, AENEAS. and ULYSSES
-
- THERSITES. Would I could meet that rogue Diomed! I would croak like
- a raven; I would bode, I would bode. Patroclus will give me
- anything for the intelligence of this whore; the parrot will not
- do more for an almond than he for a commodious drab. Lechery,
- lechery! Still wars and lechery! Nothing else holds fashion. A
- burning devil take them! Exit
-
-
-
-
-ACT V. SCENE 3.
-Troy. Before PRIAM'S palace
-
-Enter HECTOR and ANDROMACHE
-
- ANDROMACHE. When was my lord so much ungently temper'd
- To stop his ears against admonishment?
- Unarm, unarm, and do not fight to-day.
- HECTOR. You train me to offend you; get you in.
- By all the everlasting gods, I'll go.
- ANDROMACHE. My dreams will, sure, prove ominous to the day.
- HECTOR. No more, I say.
-
- Enter CASSANDRA
-
- CASSANDRA. Where is my brother Hector?
- ANDROMACHE. Here, sister, arm'd, and bloody in intent.
- Consort with me in loud and dear petition,
- Pursue we him on knees; for I have dreamt
- Of bloody turbulence, and this whole night
- Hath nothing been but shapes and forms of slaughter.
- CASSANDRA. O, 'tis true!
- HECTOR. Ho! bid my trumpet sound.
- CASSANDRA. No notes of sally, for the heavens, sweet brother!
- HECTOR. Be gone, I say. The gods have heard me swear.
- CASSANDRA. The gods are deaf to hot and peevish vows;
- They are polluted off'rings, more abhorr'd
- Than spotted livers in the sacrifice.
- ANDROMACHE. O, be persuaded! Do not count it holy
- To hurt by being just. It is as lawful,
- For we would give much, to use violent thefts
- And rob in the behalf of charity.
- CASSANDRA. It is the purpose that makes strong the vow;
- But vows to every purpose must not hold.
- Unarm, sweet Hector.
- HECTOR. Hold you still, I say.
- Mine honour keeps the weather of my fate.
- Life every man holds dear; but the dear man
- Holds honour far more precious dear than life.
-
- Enter TROILUS
-
- How now, young man! Mean'st thou to fight to-day?
- ANDROMACHE. Cassandra, call my father to persuade.
- Exit CASSANDRA
- HECTOR. No, faith, young Troilus; doff thy harness, youth;
- I am to-day i' th' vein of chivalry.
- Let grow thy sinews till their knots be strong,
- And tempt not yet the brushes of the war.
- Unarm thee, go; and doubt thou not, brave boy,
- I'll stand to-day for thee and me and Troy.
- TROILUS. Brother, you have a vice of mercy in you
- Which better fits a lion than a man.
- HECTOR. What vice is that, good Troilus?
- Chide me for it.
- TROILUS. When many times the captive Grecian falls,
- Even in the fan and wind of your fair sword,
- You bid them rise and live.
- HECTOR. O, 'tis fair play!
- TROILUS. Fool's play, by heaven, Hector.
- HECTOR. How now! how now!
- TROILUS. For th' love of all the gods,
- Let's leave the hermit Pity with our mother;
- And when we have our armours buckled on,
- The venom'd vengeance ride upon our swords,
- Spur them to ruthful work, rein them from ruth!
- HECTOR. Fie, savage, fie!
- TROILUS. Hector, then 'tis wars.
- HECTOR. Troilus, I would not have you fight to-day.
- TROILUS. Who should withhold me?
- Not fate, obedience, nor the hand of Mars
- Beck'ning with fiery truncheon my retire;
- Not Priamus and Hecuba on knees,
- Their eyes o'ergalled with recourse of tears;
- Nor you, my brother, with your true sword drawn,
- Oppos'd to hinder me, should stop my way,
- But by my ruin.
-
- Re-enter CASSANDRA, with PRIAM
-
- CASSANDRA. Lay hold upon him, Priam, hold him fast;
- He is thy crutch; now if thou lose thy stay,
- Thou on him leaning, and all Troy on thee,
- Fall all together.
- PRIAM. Come, Hector, come, go back.
- Thy wife hath dreamt; thy mother hath had visions;
- Cassandra doth foresee; and I myself
- Am like a prophet suddenly enrapt
- To tell thee that this day is ominous.
- Therefore, come back.
- HECTOR. Aeneas is a-field;
- And I do stand engag'd to many Greeks,
- Even in the faith of valour, to appear
- This morning to them.
- PRIAM. Ay, but thou shalt not go.
- HECTOR. I must not break my faith.
- You know me dutiful; therefore, dear sir,
- Let me not shame respect; but give me leave
- To take that course by your consent and voice
- Which you do here forbid me, royal Priam.
- CASSANDRA. O Priam, yield not to him!
- ANDROMACHE. Do not, dear father.
- HECTOR. Andromache, I am offended with you.
- Upon the love you bear me, get you in.
- Exit ANDROMACHE
- TROILUS. This foolish, dreaming, superstitious girl
- Makes all these bodements.
- CASSANDRA. O, farewell, dear Hector!
- Look how thou diest. Look how thy eye turns pale.
- Look how thy wounds do bleed at many vents.
- Hark how Troy roars; how Hecuba cries out;
- How poor Andromache shrills her dolours forth;
- Behold distraction, frenzy, and amazement,
- Like witless antics, one another meet,
- And all cry, Hector! Hector's dead! O Hector!
- TROILUS. Away, away!
- CASSANDRA. Farewell!-yet, soft! Hector, I take my leave.
- Thou dost thyself and all our Troy deceive. Exit
- HECTOR. You are amaz'd, my liege, at her exclaim.
- Go in, and cheer the town; we'll forth, and fight,
- Do deeds worth praise and tell you them at night.
- PRIAM. Farewell. The gods with safety stand about thee!
- Exeunt severally PRIAM and HECTOR. Alarums
- TROILUS. They are at it, hark! Proud Diomed, believe,
- I come to lose my arm or win my sleeve.
-
- Enter PANDARUS
-
- PANDARUS. Do you hear, my lord? Do you hear?
- TROILUS. What now?
- PANDARUS. Here's a letter come from yond poor girl.
- TROILUS. Let me read.
- PANDARUS. A whoreson tisick, a whoreson rascally tisick so troubles
- me, and the foolish fortune of this girl, and what one thing,
- what another, that I shall leave you one o' th's days; and I have
- a rheum in mine eyes too, and such an ache in my bones that
- unless a man were curs'd I cannot tell what to think on't. What
- says she there?
- TROILUS. Words, words, mere words, no matter from the heart;
- Th' effect doth operate another way.
- [Tearing the letter]
- Go, wind, to wind, there turn and change together.
- My love with words and errors still she feeds,
- But edifies another with her deeds. Exeunt severally
-
-
-
-
-ACT V. SCENE 4.
-The plain between Troy and the Grecian camp
-
-Enter THERSITES. Excursions
-
- THERSITES. Now they are clapper-clawing one another; I'll go look
- on. That dissembling abominable varlet, Diomed, has got that same
- scurvy doting foolish young knave's sleeve of Troy there in his
- helm. I would fain see them meet, that that same young Troyan ass
- that loves the whore there might send that Greekish whoremasterly
- villain with the sleeve back to the dissembling luxurious drab of
- a sleeve-less errand. A th' t'other side, the policy of those
- crafty swearing rascals-that stale old mouse-eaten dry cheese,
- Nestor, and that same dog-fox, Ulysses -is not prov'd worth a
- blackberry. They set me up, in policy, that mongrel cur, Ajax,
- against that dog of as bad a kind, Achilles; and now is the cur,
- Ajax prouder than the cur Achilles, and will not arm to-day;
- whereupon the Grecians begin to proclaim barbarism, and policy
- grows into an ill opinion.
-
- Enter DIOMEDES, TROILUS following
-
- Soft! here comes sleeve, and t'other.
- TROILUS. Fly not; for shouldst thou take the river Styx
- I would swim after.
- DIOMEDES. Thou dost miscall retire.
- I do not fly; but advantageous care
- Withdrew me from the odds of multitude.
- Have at thee.
- THERSITES. Hold thy whore, Grecian; now for thy whore,
- Troyan-now the sleeve, now the sleeve!
- Exeunt TROILUS and DIOMEDES fighting
-
- Enter HECTOR
-
- HECTOR. What art thou, Greek? Art thou for Hector's match?
- Art thou of blood and honour?
- THERSITES. No, no-I am a rascal; a scurvy railing knave; a very
- filthy rogue.
- HECTOR. I do believe thee. Live. Exit
- THERSITES. God-a-mercy, that thou wilt believe me; but a plague
- break thy neck for frighting me! What's become of the wenching
- rogues? I think they have swallowed one another. I would laugh at
- that miracle. Yet, in a sort, lechery eats itself. I'll seek
- them. Exit
-
-
-
-
-ACT V. SCENE 5.
-Another part of the plain
-
-Enter DIOMEDES and A SERVANT
-
- DIOMEDES. Go, go, my servant, take thou Troilus' horse;
- Present the fair steed to my lady Cressid.
- Fellow, commend my service to her beauty;
- Tell her I have chastis'd the amorous Troyan,
- And am her knight by proof.
- SERVANT. I go, my lord. Exit
-
- Enter AGAMEMNON
-
- AGAMEMNON. Renew, renew! The fierce Polydamus
- Hath beat down enon; bastard Margarelon
- Hath Doreus prisoner,
- And stands colossus-wise, waving his beam,
- Upon the pashed corses of the kings
- Epistrophus and Cedius. Polixenes is slain;
- Amphimacus and Thoas deadly hurt;
- Patroclus ta'en, or slain; and Palamedes
- Sore hurt and bruis'd. The dreadful Sagittary
- Appals our numbers. Haste we, Diomed,
- To reinforcement, or we perish all.
-
- Enter NESTOR
-
- NESTOR. Go, bear Patroclus' body to Achilles,
- And bid the snail-pac'd Ajax arm for shame.
- There is a thousand Hectors in the field;
- Now here he fights on Galathe his horse,
- And there lacks work; anon he's there afoot,
- And there they fly or die, like scaled sculls
- Before the belching whale; then is he yonder,
- And there the strawy Greeks, ripe for his edge,
- Fall down before him like the mower's swath.
- Here, there, and everywhere, he leaves and takes;
- Dexterity so obeying appetite
- That what he will he does, and does so much
- That proof is call'd impossibility.
-
- Enter ULYSSES
-
- ULYSSES. O, courage, courage, courage, Princes! Great
- Achilles Is arming, weeping, cursing, vowing vengeance.
- Patroclus' wounds have rous'd his drowsy blood,
- Together with his mangled Myrmidons,
- That noseless, handless, hack'd and chipp'd, come to
- him, Crying on Hector. Ajax hath lost a friend
- And foams at mouth, and he is arm'd and at it,
- Roaring for Troilus; who hath done to-day
- Mad and fantastic execution,
- Engaging and redeeming of himself
- With such a careless force and forceless care
- As if that luck, in very spite of cunning,
- Bade him win all.
-
- Enter AJAX
-
- AJAX. Troilus! thou coward Troilus! Exit
- DIOMEDES. Ay, there, there.
- NESTOR. So, so, we draw together. Exit
- Enter ACHILLES
-
- ACHILLES. Where is this Hector?
- Come, come, thou boy-queller, show thy face;
- Know what it is to meet Achilles angry.
- Hector! where's Hector? I will none but Hector. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-ACT V. SCENE 6.
-Another part of the plain
-
-Enter AJAX
-
- AJAX. Troilus, thou coward Troilus, show thy head.
-
- Enter DIOMEDES
-
- DIOMEDES. Troilus, I say! Where's Troilus?
- AJAX. What wouldst thou?
- DIOMEDES. I would correct him.
- AJAX. Were I the general, thou shouldst have my office
- Ere that correction. Troilus, I say! What, Troilus!
-
- Enter TROILUS
-
- TROILUS. O traitor Diomed! Turn thy false face, thou traitor,
- And pay thy life thou owest me for my horse.
- DIOMEDES. Ha! art thou there?
- AJAX. I'll fight with him alone. Stand, Diomed.
- DIOMEDES. He is my prize. I will not look upon.
- TROILUS. Come, both, you cogging Greeks; have at you
- Exeunt fighting
-
- Enter HECTOR
-
- HECTOR. Yea, Troilus? O, well fought, my youngest brother!
-
- Enter ACHILLES
-
- ACHILLES. Now do I see thee, ha! Have at thee, Hector!
- HECTOR. Pause, if thou wilt.
- ACHILLES. I do disdain thy courtesy, proud Troyan.
- Be happy that my arms are out of use;
- My rest and negligence befriends thee now,
- But thou anon shalt hear of me again;
- Till when, go seek thy fortune. Exit
- HECTOR. Fare thee well.
- I would have been much more a fresher man,
- Had I expected thee.
-
- Re-enter TROILUS
-
- How now, my brother!
- TROILUS. Ajax hath ta'en Aeneas. Shall it be?
- No, by the flame of yonder glorious heaven,
- He shall not carry him; I'll be ta'en too,
- Or bring him off. Fate, hear me what I say:
- I reck not though thou end my life to-day. Exit
-
- Enter one in armour
-
- HECTOR. Stand, stand, thou Greek; thou art a goodly mark.
- No? wilt thou not? I like thy armour well;
- I'll frush it and unlock the rivets all
- But I'll be master of it. Wilt thou not, beast, abide?
- Why then, fly on; I'll hunt thee for thy hide. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-ACT V. SCENE 7.
-Another part of the plain
-
-Enter ACHILLES, with Myrmidons
-
- ACHILLES. Come here about me, you my Myrmidons;
- Mark what I say. Attend me where I wheel;
- Strike not a stroke, but keep yourselves in breath;
- And when I have the bloody Hector found,
- Empale him with your weapons round about;
- In fellest manner execute your arms.
- Follow me, sirs, and my proceedings eye.
- It is decreed Hector the great must die. Exeunt
-
- Enter MENELAUS and PARIS, fighting; then THERSITES
-
- THERSITES. The cuckold and the cuckold-maker are at it. Now, bull!
- now, dog! 'Loo, Paris, 'loo! now my double-horn'd Spartan! 'loo,
- Paris, 'loo! The bull has the game. Ware horns, ho!
- Exeunt PARIS and MENELAUS
-
- Enter MARGARELON
-
- MARGARELON. Turn, slave, and fight.
- THERSITES. What art thou?
- MARGARELON. A bastard son of Priam's.
- THERSITES. I am a bastard too; I love bastards. I am a bastard
- begot, bastard instructed, bastard in mind, bastard in valour, in
- everything illegitimate. One bear will not bite another, and
- wherefore should one bastard? Take heed, the quarrel's most
- ominous to us: if the son of a whore fight for a whore, he tempts
- judgment. Farewell, bastard.
- Exit
- MARGARELON. The devil take thee, coward! Exit
-
-
-
-
-ACT V. SCENE 8.
-Another part of the plain
-
-Enter HECTOR
-
- HECTOR. Most putrified core so fair without,
- Thy goodly armour thus hath cost thy life.
- Now is my day's work done; I'll take good breath:
- Rest, sword; thou hast thy fill of blood and death!
- [Disarms]
-
- Enter ACHILLES and his Myrmidons
-
- ACHILLES. Look, Hector, how the sun begins to set;
- How ugly night comes breathing at his heels;
- Even with the vail and dark'ning of the sun,
- To close the day up, Hector's life is done.
- HECTOR. I am unarm'd; forego this vantage, Greek.
- ACHILLES. Strike, fellows, strike; this is the man I seek.
- [HECTOR falls]
- So, Ilion, fall thou next! Come, Troy, sink down;
- Here lies thy heart, thy sinews, and thy bone.
- On, Myrmidons, and cry you an amain
- 'Achilles hath the mighty Hector slain.'
- [A retreat sounded]
- Hark! a retire upon our Grecian part.
- MYRMIDON. The Troyan trumpets sound the like, my lord.
- ACHILLES. The dragon wing of night o'erspreads the earth
- And, stickler-like, the armies separates.
- My half-supp'd sword, that frankly would have fed,
- Pleas'd with this dainty bait, thus goes to bed.
- [Sheathes his sword]
- Come, tie his body to my horse's tail;
- Along the field I will the Troyan trail. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-ACT V. SCENE 9.
-Another part of the plain
-
-Sound retreat. Shout. Enter AGAMEMNON, AJAX, MENELAUS, NESTOR, DIOMEDES,
-and the rest, marching
-
- AGAMEMNON. Hark! hark! what shout is this?
- NESTOR. Peace, drums!
- SOLDIERS. [Within] Achilles! Achilles! Hector's slain. Achilles!
- DIOMEDES. The bruit is Hector's slain, and by Achilles.
- AJAX. If it be so, yet bragless let it be;
- Great Hector was as good a man as he.
- AGAMEMNON. March patiently along. Let one be sent
- To pray Achilles see us at our tent.
- If in his death the gods have us befriended;
- Great Troy is ours, and our sharp wars are ended.
- Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-ACT V. SCENE 10.
-Another part of the plain
-
-Enter AENEAS, PARIS, ANTENOR, and DEIPHOBUS
-
- AENEAS. Stand, ho! yet are we masters of the field.
- Never go home; here starve we out the night.
-
- Enter TROILUS
-
- TROILUS. Hector is slain.
- ALL. Hector! The gods forbid!
- TROILUS. He's dead, and at the murderer's horse's tail,
- In beastly sort, dragg'd through the shameful field.
- Frown on, you heavens, effect your rage with speed.
- Sit, gods, upon your thrones, and smile at Troy.
- I say at once let your brief plagues be mercy,
- And linger not our sure destructions on.
- AENEAS. My lord, you do discomfort all the host.
- TROILUS. You understand me not that tell me so.
- I do not speak of flight, of fear of death,
- But dare all imminence that gods and men
- Address their dangers in. Hector is gone.
- Who shall tell Priam so, or Hecuba?
- Let him that will a screech-owl aye be call'd
- Go in to Troy, and say there 'Hector's dead.'
- There is a word will Priam turn to stone;
- Make wells and Niobes of the maids and wives,
- Cold statues of the youth; and, in a word,
- Scare Troy out of itself. But, march away;
- Hector is dead; there is no more to say.
- Stay yet. You vile abominable tents,
- Thus proudly pight upon our Phrygian plains,
- Let Titan rise as early as he dare,
- I'll through and through you. And, thou great-siz'd coward,
- No space of earth shall sunder our two hates;
- I'll haunt thee like a wicked conscience still,
- That mouldeth goblins swift as frenzy's thoughts.
- Strike a free march to Troy. With comfort go;
- Hope of revenge shall hide our inward woe.
-
- Enter PANDARUS
-
- PANDARUS. But hear you, hear you!
- TROILUS. Hence, broker-lackey. Ignominy and shame
- Pursue thy life and live aye with thy name!
- Exeunt all but PANDARUS
- PANDARUS. A goodly medicine for my aching bones! world! world! thus
- is the poor agent despis'd! traitors and bawds, how earnestly are
- you set a work, and how ill requited! Why should our endeavour be
- so lov'd, and the performance so loathed? What verse for it? What
- instance for it? Let me see-
-
- Full merrily the humble-bee doth sing
- Till he hath lost his honey and his sting;
- And being once subdu'd in armed trail,
- Sweet honey and sweet notes together fail.
-
- Good traders in the flesh, set this in your painted
- cloths. As many as be here of pander's hall,
- Your eyes, half out, weep out at Pandar's fall;
- Or, if you cannot weep, yet give some groans,
- Though not for me, yet for your aching bones.
- Brethren and sisters of the hold-door trade,
- Some two months hence my will shall here be made.
- It should be now, but that my fear is this,
- Some galled goose of Winchester would hiss.
- Till then I'll sweat and seek about for eases,
- And at that time bequeath you my diseases. Exit
-
-THE END
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-
-
-1602
-
-
-TWELFTH NIGHT; OR, WHAT YOU WILL
-
-by William Shakespeare
-
-
-
-DRAMATIS PERSONAE
-
- ORSINO, Duke of Illyria
- SEBASTIAN, brother of Viola
- ANTONIO, a sea captain, friend of Sebastian
- A SEA CAPTAIN, friend of Viola
- VALENTINE, gentleman attending on the Duke
- CURIO, gentleman attending on the Duke
- SIR TOBY BELCH, uncle of Olivia
- SIR ANDREW AGUECHEEK
- MALVOLIO, steward to Olivia
- FABIAN, servant to Olivia
- FESTE, a clown, servant to Olivia
-
- OLIVIA, a rich countess
- VIOLA, sister of Sebastian
- MARIA, Olivia's waiting woman
-
- Lords, Priests, Sailors, Officers, Musicians, and Attendants
-
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-SCENE:
-A city in Illyria; and the sea-coast near it
-
-
-
-ACT I. SCENE I.
-The DUKE'S palace
-
-Enter ORSINO, Duke of Illyria, CURIO, and other LORDS; MUSICIANS attending
-
- DUKE. If music be the food of love, play on,
- Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting,
- The appetite may sicken and so die.
- That strain again! It had a dying fall;
- O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound
- That breathes upon a bank of violets,
- Stealing and giving odour! Enough, no more;
- 'Tis not so sweet now as it was before.
- O spirit of love, how quick and fresh art thou!
- That, notwithstanding thy capacity
- Receiveth as the sea, nought enters there,
- Of what validity and pitch soe'er,
- But falls into abatement and low price
- Even in a minute. So full of shapes is fancy,
- That it alone is high fantastical.
- CURIO. Will you go hunt, my lord?
- DUKE. What, Curio?
- CURIO. The hart.
- DUKE. Why, so I do, the noblest that I have.
- O, when mine eyes did see Olivia first,
- Methought she purg'd the air of pestilence!
- That instant was I turn'd into a hart,
- And my desires, like fell and cruel hounds,
- E'er since pursue me.
-
- Enter VALENTINE
-
- How now! what news from her?
- VALENTINE. So please my lord, I might not be admitted,
- But from her handmaid do return this answer:
- The element itself, till seven years' heat,
- Shall not behold her face at ample view;
- But like a cloistress she will veiled walk,
- And water once a day her chamber round
- With eye-offending brine; all this to season
- A brother's dead love, which she would keep fresh
- And lasting in her sad remembrance.
- DUKE. O, she that hath a heart of that fine frame
- To pay this debt of love but to a brother,
- How will she love when the rich golden shaft
- Hath kill'd the flock of all affections else
- That live in her; when liver, brain, and heart,
- These sovereign thrones, are all supplied and fill'd,
- Her sweet perfections, with one self king!
- Away before me to sweet beds of flow'rs:
- Love-thoughts lie rich when canopied with bow'rs.
- Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-The sea-coast
-
-Enter VIOLA, a CAPTAIN, and SAILORS
-
- VIOLA. What country, friends, is this?
- CAPTAIN. This is Illyria, lady.
- VIOLA. And what should I do in Illyria?
- My brother he is in Elysium.
- Perchance he is not drown'd- what think you, sailors?
- CAPTAIN. It is perchance that you yourself were saved.
- VIOLA. O my poor brother! and so perchance may he be.
- CAPTAIN. True, madam, and, to comfort you with chance,
- Assure yourself, after our ship did split,
- When you, and those poor number saved with you,
- Hung on our driving boat, I saw your brother,
- Most provident in peril, bind himself-
- Courage and hope both teaching him the practice-
- To a strong mast that liv'd upon the sea;
- Where, like Arion on the dolphin's back,
- I saw him hold acquaintance with the waves
- So long as I could see.
- VIOLA. For saying so, there's gold.
- Mine own escape unfoldeth to my hope,
- Whereto thy speech serves for authority,
- The like of him. Know'st thou this country?
- CAPTAIN. Ay, madam, well; for I was bred and born
- Not three hours' travel from this very place.
- VIOLA. Who governs here?
- CAPTAIN. A noble duke, in nature as in name.
- VIOLA. What is his name?
- CAPTAIN. Orsino.
- VIOLA. Orsino! I have heard my father name him.
- He was a bachelor then.
- CAPTAIN. And so is now, or was so very late;
- For but a month ago I went from hence,
- And then 'twas fresh in murmur- as, you know,
- What great ones do the less will prattle of-
- That he did seek the love of fair Olivia.
- VIOLA. What's she?
- CAPTAIN. A virtuous maid, the daughter of a count
- That died some twelvemonth since, then leaving her
- In the protection of his son, her brother,
- Who shortly also died; for whose dear love,
- They say, she hath abjur'd the company
- And sight of men.
- VIOLA. O that I serv'd that lady,
- And might not be delivered to the world,
- Till I had made mine own occasion mellow,
- What my estate is!
- CAPTAIN. That were hard to compass,
- Because she will admit no kind of suit-
- No, not the Duke's.
- VIOLA. There is a fair behaviour in thee, Captain;
- And though that nature with a beauteous wall
- Doth oft close in pollution, yet of thee
- I will believe thou hast a mind that suits
- With this thy fair and outward character.
- I prithee, and I'll pay thee bounteously,
- Conceal me what I am, and be my aid
- For such disguise as haply shall become
- The form of my intent. I'll serve this duke:
- Thou shalt present me as an eunuch to him;
- It may be worth thy pains, for I can sing
- And speak to him in many sorts of music,
- That will allow me very worth his service.
- What else may hap to time I will commit;
- Only shape thou silence to my wit.
- CAPTAIN. Be you his eunuch and your mute I'll be;
- When my tongue blabs, then let mine eyes not see.
- VIOLA. I thank thee. Lead me on. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-OLIVIA'S house
-
-Enter SIR TOBY BELCH and MARIA
-
- SIR TOBY. What a plague means my niece to take the death of her
- brother thus? I am sure care's an enemy to life.
- MARIA. By my troth, Sir Toby, you must come in earlier o' nights;
- your cousin, my lady, takes great exceptions to your ill hours.
- SIR TOBY. Why, let her except before excepted.
- MARIA. Ay, but you must confine yourself within the modest limits
- of order.
- SIR TOBY. Confine! I'll confine myself no finer than I am. These
- clothes are good enough to drink in, and so be these boots too;
- an they be not, let them hang themselves in their own straps.
- MARIA. That quaffing and drinking will undo you; I heard my lady
- talk of it yesterday, and of a foolish knight that you brought in
- one night here to be her wooer.
- SIR TOBY. Who? Sir Andrew Aguecheek?
- MARIA. Ay, he.
- SIR TOBY. He's as tall a man as any's in Illyria.
- MARIA. What's that to th' purpose?
- SIR TOBY. Why, he has three thousand ducats a year.
- MARIA. Ay, but he'll have but a year in all these ducats; he's a
- very fool and a prodigal.
- SIR TOBY. Fie that you'll say so! He plays o' th' viol-de-gamboys,
- and speaks three or four languages word for word without book,
- and hath all the good gifts of nature.
- MARIA. He hath indeed, almost natural; for, besides that he's a
- fool, he's a great quarreller; and but that he hath the gift of a
- coward to allay the gust he hath in quarrelling, 'tis thought
- among the prudent he would quickly have the gift of a grave.
- SIR TOBY. By this hand, they are scoundrels and subtractors that
- say so of him. Who are they?
- MARIA. They that add, moreover, he's drunk nightly in your company.
- SIR TOBY. With drinking healths to my niece; I'll drink to her as
- long as there is a passage in my throat and drink in Illyria.
- He's a coward and a coystrill that will not drink to my niece
- till his brains turn o' th' toe like a parish-top. What, wench!
- Castiliano vulgo! for here comes Sir Andrew Agueface.
-
- Enter SIR ANDREW AGUECHEEK
-
- AGUECHEEK. Sir Toby Belch! How now, Sir Toby Belch!
- SIR TOBY. Sweet Sir Andrew!
- AGUECHEEK. Bless you, fair shrew.
- MARIA. And you too, sir.
- SIR TOBY. Accost, Sir Andrew, accost.
- AGUECHEEK. What's that?
- SIR TOBY. My niece's chambermaid.
- AGUECHEEK. Good Mistress Accost, I desire better acquaintance.
- MARIA. My name is Mary, sir.
- AGUECHEEK. Good Mistress Mary Accost-
- SIR Toby. You mistake, knight. 'Accost' is front her, board her,
- woo her, assail her.
- AGUECHEEK. By my troth, I would not undertake her in this company.
- Is that the meaning of 'accost'?
- MARIA. Fare you well, gentlemen.
- SIR TOBY. An thou let part so, Sir Andrew, would thou mightst never
- draw sword again!
- AGUECHEEK. An you part so, mistress, I would I might never draw
- sword again. Fair lady, do you think you have fools in hand?
- MARIA. Sir, I have not you by th' hand.
- AGUECHEEK. Marry, but you shall have; and here's my hand.
- MARIA. Now, sir, thought is free. I pray you, bring your hand to
- th' buttry-bar and let it drink.
- AGUECHEEK. Wherefore, sweetheart? What's your metaphor?
- MARIA. It's dry, sir.
- AGUECHEEK. Why, I think so; I am not such an ass but I can keep my
- hand dry. But what's your jest?
- MARIA. A dry jest, sir.
- AGUECHEEK. Are you full of them?
- MARIA. Ay, sir, I have them at my fingers' ends; marry, now I let
- go your hand, I am barren. Exit MARIA
- SIR TOBY. O knight, thou lack'st a cup of canary! When did I see
- thee so put down?
- AGUECHEEK. Never in your life, I think; unless you see canary put
- me down. Methinks sometimes I have no more wit than a Christian
- or an ordinary man has; but I am great eater of beef, and I
- believe that does harm to my wit.
- SIR TOBY. No question.
- AGUECHEEK. An I thought that, I'd forswear it. I'll ride home
- to-morrow, Sir Toby.
- SIR TOBY. Pourquoi, my dear knight?
- AGUECHEEK. What is 'pourquoi'- do or not do? I would I had bestowed
- that time in the tongues that I have in fencing, dancing, and
- bear-baiting. Oh, had I but followed the arts!
- SIR TOBY. Then hadst thou had an excellent head of hair.
- AGUECHEEK. Why, would that have mended my hair?
- SIR TOBY. Past question; for thou seest it will not curl by nature.
- AGUECHEEK. But it becomes me well enough, does't not?
- SIR TOBY. Excellent; it hangs like flax on a distaff, and I hope to
- see a huswife take thee between her legs and spin it off.
- AGUECHEEK. Faith, I'll home to-morrow, Sir Toby. Your niece will
- not be seen, or if she be, it's four to one she'll none of me;
- the Count himself here hard by woos her.
- SIR TOBY. She'll none o' th' Count; she'll not match above her
- degree, neither in estate, years, nor wit; I have heard her
- swear't. Tut, there's life in't, man.
- AGUECHEEK. I'll stay a month longer. I am a fellow o' th' strangest
- mind i' th' world; I delight in masques and revels sometimes
- altogether.
- SIR TOBY. Art thou good at these kickshawses, knight?
- AGUECHEEK. As any man in Illyria, whatsoever he be, under the
- degree of my betters; and yet I will not compare with an old man.
- SIR TOBY. What is thy excellence in a galliard, knight?
- AGUECHEEK. Faith, I can cut a caper.
- SIR TOBY. And I can cut the mutton to't.
- AGUECHEEK. And I think I have the back-trick simply as strong as
- any man in Illyria.
- SIR TOBY. Wherefore are these things hid? Wherefore have these
- gifts a curtain before 'em? Are they like to take dust, like
- Mistress Mall's picture? Why dost thou not go to church in a
- galliard and come home in a coranto? My very walk should be a
- jig; I would not so much as make water but in a sink-a-pace. What
- dost thou mean? Is it a world to hide virtues in? I did think, by
- the excellent constitution of thy leg, it was form'd under the
- star of a galliard.
- AGUECHEEK. Ay, 'tis strong, and it does indifferent well in
- flame-colour'd stock. Shall we set about some revels?
- SIR TOBY. What shall we do else? Were we not born under Taurus?
- AGUECHEEK. Taurus? That's sides and heart.
- SIR TOBY. No, sir; it is legs and thighs. Let me see the caper. Ha,
- higher! Ha, ha, excellent! Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE IV.
-The DUKE'S palace
-
-Enter VALENTINE, and VIOLA in man's attire
-
- VALENTINE. If the Duke continue these favours towards you, Cesario,
- you are like to be much advanc'd; he hath known you but three
- days, and already you are no stranger.
- VIOLA. You either fear his humour or my negligence, that you call
- in question the continuance of his love. Is he inconstant, sir,
- in his favours?
- VALENTINE. No, believe me.
-
- Enter DUKE, CURIO, and ATTENDANTS
-
- VIOLA. I thank you. Here comes the Count.
- DUKE. Who saw Cesario, ho?
- VIOLA. On your attendance, my lord, here.
- DUKE. Stand you awhile aloof. Cesario,
- Thou know'st no less but all; I have unclasp'd
- To thee the book even of my secret soul.
- Therefore, good youth, address thy gait unto her;
- Be not denied access, stand at her doors,
- And tell them there thy fixed foot shall grow
- Till thou have audience.
- VIOLA. Sure, my noble lord,
- If she be so abandon'd to her sorrow
- As it is spoke, she never will admit me.
- DUKE. Be clamorous and leap all civil bounds,
- Rather than make unprofited return.
- VIOLA. Say I do speak with her, my lord, what then?
- DUKE. O, then unfold the passion of my love,
- Surprise her with discourse of my dear faith!
- It shall become thee well to act my woes:
- She will attend it better in thy youth
- Than in a nuncio's of more grave aspect.
- VIOLA. I think not so, my lord.
- DUKE. Dear lad, believe it,
- For they shall yet belie thy happy years
- That say thou art a man: Diana's lip
- Is not more smooth and rubious; thy small pipe
- Is as the maiden's organ, shrill and sound,
- And all is semblative a woman's part.
- I know thy constellation is right apt
- For this affair. Some four or five attend him-
- All, if you will, for I myself am best
- When least in company. Prosper well in this,
- And thou shalt live as freely as thy lord
- To call his fortunes thine.
- VIOLA. I'll do my best
- To woo your lady. [Aside] Yet, a barful strife!
- Whoe'er I woo, myself would be his wife.
-
-
-
-
-SCENE V.
-OLIVIA'S house
-
-Enter MARIA and CLOWN
-
- MARIA. Nay, either tell me where thou hast been, or I will not open
- my lips so wide as a bristle may enter in way of thy excuse; my
- lady will hang thee for thy absence.
- CLOWN. Let her hang me. He that is well hang'd in this world needs
- to fear no colours.
- MARIA. Make that good.
- CLOWN. He shall see none to fear.
- MARIA. A good lenten answer. I can tell thee where that saying was
- born, of 'I fear no colours.'
- CLOWN. Where, good Mistress Mary?
- MARIA. In the wars; and that may you be bold to say in your
- foolery.
- CLOWN. Well, God give them wisdom that have it; and those that are
- fools, let them use their talents.
- MARIA. Yet you will be hang'd for being so long absent; or to be
- turn'd away- is not that as good as a hanging to you?
- CLOWN. Many a good hanging prevents a bad marriage; and for turning
- away, let summer bear it out.
- MARIA. You are resolute, then?
- CLOWN. Not so, neither; but I am resolv'd on two points.
- MARIA. That if one break, the other will hold; or if both break,
- your gaskins fall.
- CLOWN. Apt, in good faith, very apt! Well, go thy way; if Sir Toby
- would leave drinking, thou wert as witty a piece of Eve's flesh
- as any in Illyria.
- MARIA. Peace, you rogue, no more o' that. Here comes my lady. Make
- your excuse wisely, you were best. Exit
-
- Enter OLIVIA and MALVOLIO
-
- CLOWN. Wit, an't be thy will, put me into good fooling! Those wits
- that think they have thee do very oft prove fools; and I that am
- sure I lack thee may pass for a wise man. For what says
- Quinapalus? 'Better a witty fool than a foolish wit.' God bless
- thee, lady!
- OLIVIA. Take the fool away.
- CLOWN. Do you not hear, fellows? Take away the lady.
- OLIVIA. Go to, y'are a dry fool; I'll no more of you. Besides, you
- grow dishonest.
- CLOWN. Two faults, madonna, that drink and good counsel will amend;
- for give the dry fool drink, then is the fool not dry. Bid the
- dishonest man mend himself: if he mend, he is no longer
- dishonest; if he cannot, let the botcher mend him. Anything
- that's mended is but patch'd; virtue that transgresses is but
- patch'd with sin, and sin that amends is but patch'd with virtue.
- If that this simple syllogism will serve, so; if it will not,
- what remedy? As there is no true cuckold but calamity, so
- beauty's a flower. The lady bade take away the fool; therefore, I
- say again, take her away.
- OLIVIA. Sir, I bade them take away you.
- CLOWN. Misprision in the highest degree! Lady, 'Cucullus non facit
- monachum'; that's as much to say as I wear not motley in my
- brain. Good madonna, give me leave to prove you a fool.
- OLIVIA. Can you do it?
- CLOWN. Dexteriously, good madonna.
- OLIVIA. Make your proof.
- CLOWN. I must catechize you for it, madonna.
- Good my mouse of virtue, answer me.
- OLIVIA. Well, sir, for want of other idleness, I'll bide your
- proof.
- CLOWN. Good madonna, why mourn'st thou?
- OLIVIA. Good fool, for my brother's death.
- CLOWN. I think his soul is in hell, madonna.
- OLIVIA. I know his soul is in heaven, fool.
- CLOWN. The more fool, madonna, to mourn for your brother's soul
- being in heaven. Take away the fool, gentlemen.
- OLIVIA. What think you of this fool, Malvolio? Doth he not mend?
- MALVOLIO. Yes, and shall do, till the pangs of death shake him.
- Infirmity, that decays the wise, doth ever make the better fool.
- CLOWN. God send you, sir, a speedy infirmity, for the better
- increasing your folly! Sir Toby will be sworn that I am no fox;
- but he will not pass his word for twopence that you are no fool.
- OLIVIA. How say you to that, Malvolio?
- MALVOLIO. I marvel your ladyship takes delight in such a barren
- rascal; I saw him put down the other day with an ordinary fool
- that has no more brain than a stone. Look you now, he's out of
- his guard already; unless you laugh and minister occasion to him,
- he is gagg'd. I protest I take these wise men that crow so at
- these set kind of fools no better than the fools' zanies.
- OLIVIA. O, you are sick of self-love, Malvolio, and taste with a
- distemper'd appetite. To be generous, guiltless, and of free
- disposition, is to take those things for bird-bolts that you deem
- cannon bullets. There is no slander in an allow'd fool, though he
- do nothing but rail; nor no railing in known discreet man, though
- he do nothing but reprove.
- CLOWN. Now Mercury endue thee with leasing, for thou speak'st well
- of fools!
-
- Re-enter MARIA
-
- MARIA. Madam, there is at the gate a young gentleman much desires
- to speak with you.
- OLIVIA. From the Count Orsino, is it?
- MARIA. I know not, madam; 'tis a fair young man, and well attended.
- OLIVIA. Who of my people hold him in delay?
- MARIA. Sir Toby, madam, your kinsman.
- OLIVIA. Fetch him off, I pray you; he speaks nothing but madman.
- Fie on him! [Exit MARIA] Go you, Malvolio: if it be a suit from
- the Count, I am sick, or not at home- what you will to dismiss
- it. [Exit MALVOLIO] Now you see, sir, how your fooling grows old,
- and people dislike it.
- CLOWN. Thou hast spoke for us, madonna, as if thy eldest son should
- be a fool; whose skull Jove cram with brains! For- here he comes-
- one of thy kin has a most weak pia mater.
-
- Enter SIR TOBY
-
- OLIVIA. By mine honour, half drunk! What is he at the gate, cousin?
- SIR TOBY. A gentleman.
- OLIVIA. A gentleman! What gentleman?
- SIR TOBY. 'Tis a gentleman here. [Hiccups] A plague o' these
- pickle-herring! How now, sot!
- CLOWN. Good Sir Toby!
- OLIVIA. Cousin, cousin, how have you come so early by this
- lethargy?
- SIR TOBY. Lechery! I defy lechery. There's one at the gate.
- OLIVIA. Ay, marry; what is he?
- SIR TOBY. Let him be the devil an he will, I care not; give me
- faith, say I. Well, it's all one. Exit
- OLIVIA. What's a drunken man like, fool?
- CLOWN. Like a drown'd man, a fool, and a madman: one draught above
- heat makes him a fool; the second mads him; and a third drowns
- him.
- OLIVIA. Go thou and seek the crowner, and let him sit o' my coz;
- for he's in the third degree of drink, he's drown'd; go look
- after him.
- CLOWN. He is but mad yet, madonna, and the fool shall look to the
- madman. Exit
-
- Re-enter MALVOLIO
-
- MALVOLIO. Madam, yond young fellow swears he will speak with you. I
- told him you were sick; he takes on him to understand so much,
- and therefore comes to speak with you. I told him you were
- asleep; he seems to have a foreknowledge of that too, and
- therefore comes to speak with you. What is to be said to him,
- lady? He's fortified against any denial.
- OLIVIA. Tell him he shall not speak with me.
- MALVOLIO. Has been told so; and he says he'll stand at your door
- like a sheriff's post, and be the supporter to a bench, but he'll
- speak with you.
- OLIVIA. What kind o' man is he?
- MALVOLIO. Why, of mankind.
- OLIVIA. What manner of man?
- MALVOLIO. Of very ill manner; he'll speak with you, will you or no.
- OLIVIA. Of what personage and years is he?
- MALVOLIO. Not yet old enough for a man, nor young enough for a boy;
- as a squash is before 'tis a peascod, or a codling when 'tis
- almost an apple; 'tis with him in standing water, between boy and
- man. He is very well-favour'd, and he speaks very shrewishly; one
- would think his mother's milk were scarce out of him.
- OLIVIA. Let him approach. Call in my gentlewoman.
- MALVOLIO. Gentlewoman, my lady calls. Exit
-
- Re-enter MARIA
-
- OLIVIA. Give me my veil; come, throw it o'er my face;
- We'll once more hear Orsino's embassy.
-
- Enter VIOLA
-
- VIOLA. The honourable lady of the house, which is she?
- OLIVIA. Speak to me; I shall answer for her. Your will?
- VIOLA. Most radiant, exquisite, and unmatchable beauty- I pray you
- tell me if this be the lady of the house, for I never saw her. I
- would be loath to cast away my speech; for, besides that it is
- excellently well penn'd, I have taken great pains to con it. Good
- beauties, let me sustain no scorn; I am very comptible, even to
- the least sinister usage.
- OLIVIA. Whence came you, sir?
- VIOLA. I can say little more than I have studied, and that
- question's out of my part. Good gentle one, give me modest
- assurance if you be the lady of the house, that I may proceed in
- my speech.
- OLIVIA. Are you a comedian?
- VIOLA. No, my profound heart; and yet, by the very fangs of malice
- I swear, I am not that I play. Are you the lady of the house?
- OLIVIA. If I do not usurp myself, I am.
- VIOLA. Most certain, if you are she, you do usurp yourself; for
- what is yours to bestow is not yours to reserve. But this is from
- my commission. I will on with my speech in your praise, and then
- show you the heart of my message.
- OLIVIA. Come to what is important in't. I forgive you the praise.
- VIOLA. Alas, I took great pains to study it, and 'tis poetical.
- OLIVIA. It is the more like to be feigned; I pray you keep it in. I
- heard you were saucy at my gates, and allow'd your approach
- rather to wonder at you than to hear you. If you be not mad, be
- gone; if you have reason, be brief; 'tis not that time of moon
- with me to make one in so skipping dialogue.
- MARIA. Will you hoist sail, sir? Here lies your way.
- VIOLA. No, good swabber, I am to hull here a little longer.
- Some mollification for your giant, sweet lady.
- OLIVIA. Tell me your mind.
- VIOLA. I am a messenger.
- OLIVIA. Sure, you have some hideous matter to deliver, when the
- courtesy of it is so fearful. Speak your office.
- VIOLA. It alone concerns your ear. I bring no overture of war, no
- taxation of homage: I hold the olive in my hand; my words are as
- full of peace as matter.
- OLIVIA. Yet you began rudely. What are you? What would you?
- VIOLA. The rudeness that hath appear'd in me have I learn'd from my
- entertainment. What I am and what I would are as secret as
- maidenhead- to your cars, divinity; to any other's, profanation.
- OLIVIA. Give us the place alone; we will hear this divinity.
- [Exeunt MARIA and ATTENDANTS] Now, sir, what is your text?
- VIOLA. Most sweet lady-
- OLIVIA. A comfortable doctrine, and much may be said of it.
- Where lies your text?
- VIOLA. In Orsino's bosom.
- OLIVIA. In his bosom! In what chapter of his bosom?
- VIOLA. To answer by the method: in the first of his heart.
- OLIVIA. O, I have read it; it is heresy. Have you no more to say?
- VIOLA. Good madam, let me see your face.
- OLIVIA. Have you any commission from your lord to negotiate with my
- face? You are now out of your text; but we will draw the curtain
- and show you the picture. [Unveiling] Look you, sir, such a one I
- was this present. Is't not well done?
- VIOLA. Excellently done, if God did all.
- OLIVIA. 'Tis in grain, sir; 'twill endure wind and weather.
- VIOLA. 'Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and white
- Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on.
- Lady, you are the cruell'st she alive,
- If you will lead these graces to the grave,
- And leave the world no copy.
- OLIVIA. O, sir, I will not be so hard-hearted; I will give out
- divers schedules of my beauty. It shall be inventoried, and every
- particle and utensil labell'd to my will: as- item, two lips
- indifferent red; item, two grey eyes with lids to them; item, one
- neck, one chin, and so forth. Were you sent hither to praise me?
- VIOLA. I see you what you are: you are too proud;
- But, if you were the devil, you are fair.
- My lord and master loves you- O, such love
- Could be but recompens'd though you were crown'd
- The nonpareil of beauty!
- OLIVIA. How does he love me?
- VIOLA. With adorations, fertile tears,
- With groans that thunder love, with sighs of fire.
- OLIVIA. Your lord does know my mind; I cannot love him.
- Yet I suppose him virtuous, know him noble,
- Of great estate, of fresh and stainless youth;
- In voices well divulg'd, free, learn'd, and valiant,
- And in dimension and the shape of nature
- A gracious person; but yet I cannot love him.
- He might have took his answer long ago.
- VIOLA. If I did love you in my master's flame,
- With such a suff'ring, such a deadly life,
- In your denial I would find no sense;
- I would not understand it.
- OLIVIA. Why, what would you?
- VIOLA. Make me a willow cabin at your gate,
- And call upon my soul within the house;
- Write loyal cantons of contemned love
- And sing them loud even in the dead of night;
- Halloo your name to the reverberate hals,
- And make the babbling gossip of the air
- Cry out 'Olivia!' O, you should not rest
- Between the elements of air and earth
- But you should pity me!
- OLIVIA. You might do much.
- What is your parentage?
- VIOLA. Above my fortunes, yet my state is well:
- I am a gentleman.
- OLIVIA. Get you to your lord.
- I cannot love him; let him send no more-
- Unless perchance you come to me again
- To tell me how he takes it. Fare you well.
- I thank you for your pains; spend this for me.
- VIOLA. I am no fee'd post, lady; keep your purse;
- My master, not myself, lacks recompense.
- Love make his heart of flint that you shall love;
- And let your fervour, like my master's, be
- Plac'd in contempt! Farewell, fair cruelty. Exit
- OLIVIA. 'What is your parentage?'
- 'Above my fortunes, yet my state is well:
- I am a gentleman.' I'll be sworn thou art;
- Thy tongue, thy face, thy limbs, actions, and spirit,
- Do give thee five-fold blazon. Not too fast! Soft, soft!
- Unless the master were the man. How now!
- Even so quickly may one catch the plague?
- Methinks I feel this youth's perfections
- With an invisible and subtle stealth
- To creep in at mine eyes. Well, let it be.
- What ho, Malvolio!
-
- Re-enter MALVOLIO
-
- MALVOLIO. Here, madam, at your service.
- OLIVIA. Run after that same peevish messenger,
- The County's man. He left this ring behind him,
- Would I or not. Tell him I'll none of it.
- Desire him not to flatter with his lord,
- Nor hold him up with hopes; I am not for him.
- If that the youth will come this way to-morrow,
- I'll give him reasons for't. Hie thee, Malvolio.
- MALVOLIO. Madam, I will. Exit
- OLIVIA. I do I know not what, and fear to find
- Mine eye too great a flatterer for my mind.
- Fate, show thy force: ourselves we do not owe;
- What is decreed must be; and be this so! Exit
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT II. SCENE I.
-The sea-coast
-
-Enter ANTONIO and SEBASTIAN
-
- ANTONIO. Will you stay no longer; nor will you not that I go with
- you?
- SEBASTIAN. By your patience, no. My stars shine darkly over me; the
- malignancy of my fate might perhaps distemper yours; therefore I
- shall crave of you your leave that I may bear my evils alone. It
- were a bad recompense for your love to lay any of them on you.
- ANTONIO. Let me know of you whither you are bound.
- SEBASTIAN. No, sooth, sir; my determinate voyage is mere
- extravagancy. But I perceive in you so excellent a touch of
- modesty that you will not extort from me what I am willing to
- keep in; therefore it charges me in manners the rather to express
- myself. You must know of me then, Antonio, my name is Sebastian,
- which I call'd Roderigo; my father was that Sebastian of
- Messaline whom I know you have heard of. He left behind him
- myself and a sister, both born in an hour; if the heavens had
- been pleas'd, would we had so ended! But you, sir, alter'd that;
- for some hour before you took me from the breach of the sea was
- my sister drown'd.
- ANTONIO. Alas the day!
- SEBASTIAN. A lady, sir, though it was said she much resembled me,
- was yet of many accounted beautiful; but though I could not with
- such estimable wonder overfar believe that, yet thus far I will
- boldly publish her: she bore mind that envy could not but call
- fair. She is drown'd already, sir, with salt water, though I seem
- to drown her remembrance again with more.
- ANTONIO. Pardon me, sir, your bad entertainment.
- SEBASTIAN. O good Antonio, forgive me your trouble.
- ANTONIO. If you will not murder me for my love, let me be your
- servant.
- SEBASTIAN. If you will not undo what you have done- that is, kill
- him whom you have recover'd-desire it not. Fare ye well at once;
- my bosom is full of kindness, and I am yet so near the manners of
- my mother that, upon the least occasion more, mine eyes will tell
- tales of me. I am bound to the Count Orsino's court. Farewell.
- Exit
- ANTONIO. The gentleness of all the gods go with thee!
- I have many cnemies in Orsino's court,
- Else would I very shortly see thee there.
- But come what may, I do adore thee so
- That danger shall seem sport, and I will go. Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-A street
-
-Enter VIOLA and MALVOLIO at several doors
-
- MALVOLIO. Were you not ev'n now with the Countess Olivia?
- VIOLA. Even now, sir; on a moderate pace I have since arriv'd but
- hither.
- MALVOLIO. She returns this ring to you, sir; you might have saved
- me my pains, to have taken it away yourself. She adds, moreover,
- that you should put your lord into a desperate assurance she will
- none of him. And one thing more: that you be never so hardy to
- come again in his affairs, unless it be to report your lord's
- taking of this. Receive it so.
- VIOLA. She took the ring of me; I'll none of it.
- MALVOLIO. Come, sir, you peevishly threw it to her; and her will is
- it should be so return'd. If it be worth stooping for, there it
- lies in your eye; if not, be it his that finds it.
- Exit
- VIOLA. I left no ring with her; what means this lady?
- Fortune forbid my outside have not charm'd her!
- She made good view of me; indeed, so much
- That methought her eyes had lost her tongue,
- For she did speak in starts distractedly.
- She loves me, sure: the cunning of her passion
- Invites me in this churlish messenger.
- None of my lord's ring! Why, he sent her none.
- I am the man. If it be so- as 'tis-
- Poor lady, she were better love a dream.
- Disguise, I see thou art a wickedness
- Wherein the pregnant enemy does much.
- How easy is it for the proper-false
- In women's waxen hearts to set their forms!
- Alas, our frailty is the cause, not we!
- For such as we are made of, such we be.
- How will this fadge? My master loves her dearly,
- And I, poor monster, fond as much on him;
- And she, mistaken, seems to dote on me.
- What will become of this? As I am man,
- My state is desperate for my master's love;
- As I am woman- now alas the day!-
- What thriftless sighs shall poor Olivia breathe!
- O Time, thou must untangle this, not I;
- It is too hard a knot for me t' untie! Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-OLIVIA'S house
-
-Enter SIR TOBY and SIR ANDREW
-
- SIR TOBY. Approach, Sir Andrew. Not to be abed after midnight is to
- be up betimes; and 'diluculo surgere' thou know'st-
- AGUECHEEK. Nay, by my troth, I know not; but I know to be up late
- is to be up late.
- SIR TOBY. A false conclusion! I hate it as an unfill'd can. To be
- up after midnight and to go to bed then is early; so that to go
- to bed after midnight is to go to bed betimes. Does not our lives
- consist of the four elements?
- AGUECHEEK. Faith, so they say; but I think it rather consists of
- eating and drinking.
- SIR TOBY. Th'art a scholar; let us therefore eat and drink.
- Marian, I say! a stoup of wine.
-
- Enter CLOWN
-
- AGUECHEEK. Here comes the fool, i' faith.
- CLOWN. How now, my hearts! Did you never see the picture of 'we
- three'?
- SIR TOBY. Welcome, ass. Now let's have a catch.
- AGUECHEEK. By my troth, the fool has an excellent breast. I had
- rather than forty shillings I had such a leg, and so sweet a
- breath to sing, as the fool has. In sooth, thou wast in very
- gracious fooling last night, when thou spok'st of Pigrogromitus,
- of the Vapians passing the equinoctial of Queubus; 'twas very
- good, i' faith. I sent thee sixpence for thy leman; hadst it?
- CLOWN. I did impeticos thy gratillity; for Malvolio's nose is no
- whipstock. My lady has a white hand, and the Myrmidons are no
- bottle-ale houses.
- AGUECHEEK. Excellent! Why, this is the best fooling, when all is
- done. Now, a song.
- SIR TOBY. Come on, there is sixpence for you. Let's have a song.
- AGUECHEEK. There's a testril of me too; if one knight give a-
-CLOWN. Would you have a love-song, or a song of good life?
- SIR TOBY. A love-song, a love-song.
- AGUECHEEK. Ay, ay; I care not for good life.
-
- CLOWN sings
-
- O mistress mine, where are you roaming?
- O, stay and hear; your true love's coming,
- That can sing both high and low.
- Trip no further, pretty sweeting;
- Journeys end in lovers meeting,
- Every wise man's son doth know.
-
- AGUECHEEK. Excellent good, i' faith!
- SIR TOBY. Good, good!
-
- CLOWN sings
-
- What is love? 'Tis not hereafter;
- Present mirth hath present laughter;
- What's to come is still unsure.
- In delay there lies no plenty,
- Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty;
- Youth's a stuff will not endure.
-
- AGUECHEEK. A mellifluous voice, as I am true knight.
- SIR TOBY. A contagious breath.
- AGUECHEEK. Very sweet and contagious, i' faith.
- SIR TOBY. To hear by the nose, it is dulcet in contagion. But shall
- we make the welkin dance indeed? Shall we rouse the night-owl in
- a catch that will draw three souls out of one weaver? Shall we do
- that?
- AGUECHEEK. An you love me, let's do't. I am dog at a catch.
- CLOWN. By'r lady, sir, and some dogs will catch well.
- AGUECHEEK. Most certain. Let our catch be 'Thou knave.'
- CLOWN. 'Hold thy peace, thou knave' knight? I shall be constrain'd
- in't to call thee knave, knight.
- AGUECHEEK. 'Tis not the first time I have constrained one to call
- me knave. Begin, fool: it begins 'Hold thy peace.'
- CLOWN. I shall never begin if I hold my peace.
- AGUECHEEK. Good, i' faith! Come, begin. [Catch sung]
-
- Enter MARIA
-
- MARIA. What a caterwauling do you keep here! If my lady have not
- call'd up her steward Malvolio, and bid him turn you out of
- doors, never trust me.
- SIR TOBY. My lady's a Cataian, we are politicians, Malvolio's a
- Peg-a-Ramsey, and [Sings]
- Three merry men be we.
- Am not I consanguineous? Am I not of her blood? Tilly-vally,
- lady. [Sings]
- There dwelt a man in Babylon,
- Lady, lady.
- CLOWN. Beshrew me, the knight's in admirable fooling.
- AGUECHEEK. Ay, he does well enough if he be dispos'd, and so do I
- too; he does it with a better grace, but I do it more natural.
- SIR TOBY. [Sings] O' the twelfth day of December-
- MARIA. For the love o' God, peace!
-
- Enter MALVOLIO
-
- MALVOLIO. My masters, are you mad? Or what are you? Have you no
- wit, manners, nor honesty, but to gabble like tinkers at this
- time of night? Do ye make an ale-house of my lady's house, that
- ye squeak out your coziers' catches without any mitigation or
- remorse of voice? Is there no respect of place, persons, nor
- time, in you?
- SIR TOBY. We did keep time, sir, in our catches. Sneck up!
- MALVOLIO. Sir Toby, I must be round with you. My lady bade me tell
- you that, though she harbours you as her kins-man, she's nothing
- allied to your disorders. If you can separate yourself and your
- misdemeanours, you are welcome to the house; if not, and it would
- please you to take leave of her, she is very willing to bid you
- farewell.
- SIR TOBY. [Sings] Farewell, dear heart, since I must needs be gone.
- MARIA. Nay, good Sir Toby.
- CLOWN. [Sings] His eyes do show his days are almost done.
- MALVOLIO. Is't even so?
- SIR TOBY. [Sings] But I will never die. [Falls down]
- CLOWN. [Sings] Sir Toby, there you lie.
- MALVOLIO. This is much credit to you.
- SIR TOBY. [Sings] Shall I bid him go?
- CLOWN. [Sings] What an if you do?
- SIR TOBY. [Sings] Shall I bid him go, and spare not?
- CLOWN. [Sings] O, no, no, no, no, you dare not.
- SIR TOBY. [Rising] Out o' tune, sir! Ye lie. Art any more than a
- steward? Dost thou think, because thou art virtuous, there shall
- be no more cakes and ale?
- CLOWN. Yes, by Saint Anne; and ginger shall be hot i' th' mouth
- too.
- SIR TOBY. Th' art i' th' right. Go, sir, rub your chain with crumbs.
- A stoup of wine, Maria!
- MALVOLIO. Mistress Mary, if you priz'd my lady's favour at anything
- more than contempt, you would not give means for this uncivil
- rule; she shall know of it, by this hand.
- Exit
- MARIA. Go shake your ears.
- AGUECHEEK. 'Twere as good a deed as to drink when a man's ahungry,
- to challenge him the field, and then to break promise with him
- and make a fool of him.
- SIR TOBY. Do't, knight. I'll write thee a challenge; or I'll
- deliver thy indignation to him by word of mouth.
- MARIA. Sweet Sir Toby, be patient for to-night; since the youth of
- the Count's was to-day with my lady, she is much out of quiet.
- For Monsieur Malvolio, let me alone with him; if I do not gull
- him into a nayword, and make him a common recreation, do not
- think I have wit enough to lie straight in my bed. I know I can
- do it.
- SIR TOBY. Possess us, possess us; tell us something of him.
- MARIA. Marry, sir, sometimes he is a kind of Puritan.
- AGUECHEEK. O, if I thought that, I'd beat him like a dog.
- SIR TOBY. What, for being a Puritan? Thy exquisite reason, dear
- knight?
- AGUECHEEK. I have no exquisite reason for't, but I have reason good
- enough.
- MARIA. The devil a Puritan that he is, or anything constantly but a
- time-pleaser; an affection'd ass that cons state without book and
- utters it by great swarths; the best persuaded of himself, so
- cramm'd, as he thinks, with excellencies that it is his grounds
- of faith that all that look on him love him; and on that vice in
- him will my revenge find notable cause to work.
- SIR TOBY. What wilt thou do?
- MARIA. I will drop in his way some obscure epistles of love;
- wherein, by the colour of his beard, the shape of his leg, the
- manner of his gait, the expressure of his eye, forehead, and
- complexion, he shall find himself most feelingly personated. I
- can write very like my lady, your niece; on forgotten matter we
- can hardly make distinction of our hands.
- SIR TOBY. Excellent! I smell a device.
- AGUECHEEK. I have't in my nose too.
- SIR TOBY. He shall think, by the letters that thou wilt drop, that
- they come from my niece, and that she's in love with him.
- MARIA. My purpose is, indeed, a horse of that colour.
- AGUECHEEK. And your horse now would make him an ass.
- MARIA. Ass, I doubt not.
- AGUECHEEK. O, 'twill be admirable!
- MARIA. Sport royal, I warrant you. I know my physic will work with
- him. I will plant you two, and let the fool make a third, where
- he shall find the letter; observe his construction of it. For
- this night, to bed, and dream on the event. Farewell.
- Exit
- SIR TOBY. Good night, Penthesilea.
- AGUECHEEK. Before me, she's a good wench.
- SIR TOBY. She's a beagle true-bred, and one that adores me.
- What o' that?
- AGUECHEEK. I was ador'd once too.
- SIR TOBY. Let's to bed, knight. Thou hadst need send for more
- money.
- AGUECHEEK. If I cannot recover your niece, I am a foul way out.
- SIR TOBY. Send for money, knight; if thou hast her not i' th' end,
- call me Cut.
- AGUECHEEK. If I do not, never trust me; take it how you will.
- SIR TOBY. Come, come, I'll go burn some sack; 'tis too late to go
- to bed now. Come, knight; come, knight.
- Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE IV.
-The DUKE'S palace
-
-Enter DUKE, VIOLA, CURIO, and OTHERS
-
- DUKE. Give me some music. Now, good morrow, friends.
- Now, good Cesario, but that piece of song,
- That old and antique song we heard last night;
- Methought it did relieve my passion much,
- More than light airs and recollected terms
- Of these most brisk and giddy-paced times.
- Come, but one verse.
- CURIO. He is not here, so please your lordship, that should sing
- it.
- DUKE. Who was it?
- CURIO. Feste, the jester, my lord; a fool that the Lady Olivia's
- father took much delight in. He is about the house.
- DUKE. Seek him out, and play the tune the while.
- Exit CURIO. [Music plays]
- Come hither, boy. If ever thou shalt love,
- In the sweet pangs of it remember me;
- For such as I am all true lovers are,
- Unstaid and skittish in all motions else
- Save in the constant image of the creature
- That is belov'd. How dost thou like this tune?
- VIOLA. It gives a very echo to the seat
- Where Love is thron'd.
- DUKE. Thou dost speak masterly.
- My life upon't, young though thou art, thine eye
- Hath stay'd upon some favour that it loves;
- Hath it not, boy?
- VIOLA. A little, by your favour.
- DUKE. What kind of woman is't?
- VIOLA. Of your complexion.
- DUKE. She is not worth thee, then. What years, i' faith?
- VIOLA. About your years, my lord.
- DUKE. Too old, by heaven! Let still the woman take
- An elder than herself; so wears she to him,
- So sways she level in her husband's heart.
- For, boy, however we do praise ourselves,
- Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm,
- More longing, wavering, sooner lost and won,
- Than women's are.
- VIOLA. I think it well, my lord.
- DUKE. Then let thy love be younger than thyself,
- Or thy affection cannot hold the bent;
- For women are as roses, whose fair flow'r
- Being once display'd doth fall that very hour.
- VIOLA. And so they are; alas, that they are so!
- To die, even when they to perfection grow!
-
- Re-enter CURIO and CLOWN
-
- DUKE. O, fellow, come, the song we had last night.
- Mark it, Cesario; it is old and plain;
- The spinsters and the knitters in the sun,
- And the free maids that weave their thread with bones,
- Do use to chant it; it is silly sooth,
- And dallies with the innocence of love,
- Like the old age.
- CLOWN. Are you ready, sir?
- DUKE. Ay; prithee, sing. [Music]
-
- FESTE'S SONG
-
- Come away, come away, death;
- And in sad cypress let me be laid;
- Fly away, fly away, breath,
- I am slain by a fair cruel maid.
- My shroud of white, stuck all with yew,
- O, prepare it!
- My part of death no one so true
- Did share it.
-
- Not a flower, not a flower sweet,
- On my black coffin let there be strown;
- Not a friend, not a friend greet
- My poor corpse where my bones shall be thrown;
- A thousand thousand to save,
- Lay me, O, where
- Sad true lover never find my grave,
- To weep there!
-
- DUKE. There's for thy pains.
- CLOWN. No pains, sir; I take pleasure in singing, sir.
- DUKE. I'll pay thy pleasure, then.
- CLOWN. Truly, sir, and pleasure will be paid one time or another.
- DUKE. Give me now leave to leave thee.
- CLOWN. Now the melancholy god protect thee; and the tailor make thy
- doublet of changeable taffeta, for thy mind is a very opal. I
- would have men of such constancy put to sea, that their business
- might be everything, and their intent everywhere: for that's it
- that always makes a good voyage of nothing. Farewell.
- Exit CLOWN
- DUKE. Let all the rest give place.
- Exeunt CURIO and ATTENDANTS
- Once more, Cesario,
- Get thee to yond same sovereign cruelty.
- Tell her my love, more noble than the world,
- Prizes not quantity of dirty lands;
- The parts that fortune hath bestow'd upon her,
- Tell her I hold as giddily as Fortune;
- But 'tis that miracle and queen of gems
- That Nature pranks her in attracts my soul.
- VIOLA. But if she cannot love you, sir?
- DUKE. I cannot be so answer'd.
- VIOLA. Sooth, but you must.
- Say that some lady, as perhaps there is,
- Hath for your love as great a pang of heart
- As you have for Olivia. You cannot love her;
- You tell her so. Must she not then be answer'd?
- DUKE. There is no woman's sides
- Can bide the beating of so strong a passion
- As love doth give my heart; no woman's heart
- So big to hold so much; they lack retention.
- Alas, their love may be call'd appetite-
- No motion of the liver, but the palate-
- That suffer surfeit, cloyment, and revolt;
- But mine is all as hungry as the sea,
- And can digest as much. Make no compare
- Between that love a woman can bear me
- And that I owe Olivia.
- VIOLA. Ay, but I know-
- DUKE. What dost thou know?
- VIOLA. Too well what love women to men may owe.
- In faith, they are as true of heart as we.
- My father had a daughter lov'd a man,
- As it might be perhaps, were I a woman,
- I should your lordship.
- DUKE. And what's her history?
- VIOLA. A blank, my lord. She never told her love,
- But let concealment, like a worm i' th' bud,
- Feed on her damask cheek. She pin'd in thought;
- And with a green and yellow melancholy
- She sat like Patience on a monument,
- Smiling at grief. Was not this love indeed?
- We men may say more, swear more, but indeed
- Our shows are more than will; for still we prove
- Much in our vows, but little in our love.
- DUKE. But died thy sister of her love, my boy?
- VIOLA. I am all the daughters of my father's house,
- And all the brothers too- and yet I know not.
- Sir, shall I to this lady?
- DUKE. Ay, that's the theme.
- To her in haste. Give her this jewel; say
- My love can give no place, bide no denay. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE V.
-OLIVIA'S garden
-
-Enter SIR TOBY, SIR ANDREW, and FABIAN
-
- SIR TOBY. Come thy ways, Signior Fabian.
- FABIAN. Nay, I'll come; if I lose a scruple of this sport let me be
- boil'd to death with melancholy.
- SIR TOBY. Wouldst thou not be glad to have the niggardly rascally
- sheep-biter come by some notable shame?
- FABIAN. I would exult, man; you know he brought me out o' favour
- with my lady about a bear-baiting here.
- SIR TOBY. To anger him we'll have the bear again; and we will fool
- him black and blue- shall we not, Sir Andrew?
- AGUECHEEK. And we do not, it is pity of our lives.
-
- Enter MARIA
-
- SIR TOBY. Here comes the little villain.
- How now, my metal of India!
- MARIA. Get ye all three into the box-tree. Malvolio's coming down
- this walk. He has been yonder i' the sun practising behaviour to
- his own shadow this half hour. Observe him, for the love of
- mockery, for I know this letter will make a contemplative idiot
- of him. Close, in the name of jesting! [As the men hide she drops
- a letter] Lie thou there; for here comes the trout that must be
- caught with tickling.
- Exit
-
- Enter MALVOLIO
-
- MALVOLIO. 'Tis but fortune; all is fortune. Maria once told me she
- did affect me; and I have heard herself come thus near, that,
- should she fancy, it should be one of my complexion. Besides, she
- uses me with a more exalted respect than any one else that
- follows her. What should I think on't?
- SIR TOBY. Here's an overweening rogue!
- FABIAN. O, peace! Contemplation makes a rare turkey-cock of him;
- how he jets under his advanc'd plumes!
- AGUECHEEK. 'Slight, I could so beat the rogue-
- SIR TOBY. Peace, I say.
- MALVOLIO. To be Count Malvolio!
- SIR TOBY. Ah, rogue!
- AGUECHEEK. Pistol him, pistol him.
- SIR TOBY. Peace, peace!
- MALVOLIO. There is example for't: the Lady of the Strachy married
- the yeoman of the wardrobe.
- AGUECHEEK. Fie on him, Jezebel!
- FABIAN. O, peace! Now he's deeply in; look how imagination blows
- him.
- MALVOLIO. Having been three months married to her, sitting in my
- state-
- SIR TOBY. O, for a stone-bow to hit him in the eye!
- MALVOLIO. Calling my officers about me, in my branch'd velvet gown,
- having come from a day-bed- where I have left Olivia sleeping-
- SIR TOBY. Fire and brimstone!
- FABIAN. O, peace, peace!
- MALVOLIO. And then to have the humour of state; and after a demure
- travel of regard, telling them I know my place as I would they
- should do theirs, to ask for my kinsman Toby-
- SIR TOBY. Bolts and shackles!
- FABIAN. O, peace, peace, peace! Now, now.
- MALVOLIO. Seven of my people, with an obedient start, make out for
- him. I frown the while, and perchance wind up my watch, or play
- with my- some rich jewel. Toby approaches; curtsies there to me-
- SIR TOBY. Shall this fellow live?
- FABIAN. Though our silence be drawn from us with cars, yet peace.
- MALVOLIO. I extend my hand to him thus, quenching my familiar smile
- with an austere regard of control-
- SIR TOBY. And does not Toby take you a blow o' the lips then?
- MALVOLIO. Saying 'Cousin Toby, my fortunes having cast me on your
- niece give me this prerogative of speech'-
- SIR TOBY. What, what?
- MALVOLIO. 'You must amend your drunkenness'-
- SIR TOBY. Out, scab!
- FABIAN. Nay, patience, or we break the sinews of our plot.
- MALVOLIO. 'Besides, you waste the treasure of your time with a
- foolish knight'-
- AGUECHEEK. That's me, I warrant you.
- MALVOLIO. 'One Sir Andrew.'
- AGUECHEEK. I knew 'twas I; for many do call me fool.
- MALVOLIO. What employment have we here?
- [Taking up the letter]
- FABIAN. Now is the woodcock near the gin.
- SIR TOBY. O, peace! And the spirit of humours intimate reading
- aloud to him!
- MALVOLIO. By my life, this is my lady's hand: these be her very
- C's, her U's, and her T's; and thus makes she her great P's. It
- is, in contempt of question, her hand.
- AGUECHEEK. Her C's, her U's, and her T's. Why that?
- MALVOLIO. [Reads] 'To the unknown belov'd, this, and my good
- wishes.' Her very phrases! By your leave, wax. Soft! And the
- impressure her Lucrece with which she uses to seal; 'tis my lady.
- To whom should this be?
- FABIAN. This wins him, liver and all.
- MALVOLIO. [Reads]
-
- Jove knows I love,
- But who?
- Lips, do not move;
- No man must know.'
-
- 'No man must know.' What follows? The numbers alter'd!
- 'No man must know.' If this should be thee, Malvolio?
- SIR TOBY. Marry, hang thee, brock!
- MALVOLIO. [Reads]
-
- 'I may command where I adore;
- But silence, like a Lucrece knife,
- With bloodless stroke my heart doth gore;
- M. O. A. I. doth sway my life.'
-
- FABIAN. A fustian riddle!
- SIR TOBY. Excellent wench, say I.
- MALVOLIO. 'M. O. A. I. doth sway my life.'
- Nay, but first let me see, let me see, let me see.
- FABIAN. What dish o' poison has she dress'd him!
- SIR TOBY. And with what wing the staniel checks at it!
- MALVOLIO. 'I may command where I adore.' Why, she may command me: I
- serve her; she is my lady. Why, this is evident to any formal
- capacity; there is no obstruction in this. And the end- what
- should that alphabetical position portend? If I could make that
- resemble something in me. Softly! M. O. A. I.-
- SIR TOBY. O, ay, make up that! He is now at a cold scent.
- FABIAN. Sowter will cry upon't for all this, though it be as rank
- as a fox.
- MALVOLIO. M- Malvolio; M- why, that begins my name.
- FABIAN. Did not I say he would work it out?
- The cur is excellent at faults.
- MALVOLIO. M- But then there is no consonancy in the sequel; that
- suffers under probation: A should follow, but O does.
- FABIAN. And O shall end, I hope.
- SIR TOBY. Ay, or I'll cudgel him, and make him cry 'O!'
- MALVOLIO. And then I comes behind.
- FABIAN. Ay, an you had any eye behind you, you might see more
- detraction at your heels than fortunes before you.
- MALVOLIO. M. O. A. I. This simulation is not as the former; and
- yet, to crush this a little, it would bow to me, for every one of
- these letters are in my name. Soft! here follows prose.
- [Reads]
- 'If this fall into thy hand, revolve. In my stars I am above
- thee; but be not afraid of greatness. Some are born great, some
- achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon 'em. Thy
- Fates open their hands; let thy blood and spirit embrace them;
- and, to inure thyself to what thou art like to be, cast thy
- humble slough and appear fresh. Be opposite with a kinsman, surly
- with servants; let thy tongue tang arguments of state; put
- thyself into the trick of singularity. She thus advises thee that
- sighs for thee. Remember who commended thy yellow stockings, and
- wish'd to see thee ever cross-garter'd. I say, remember, Go to,
- thou art made, if thou desir'st to be so; if not, let me see thee
- a steward still, the fellow of servants, and not worthy to touch
- Fortune's fingers. Farewell. She that would alter services with
- thee,
- THE FORTUNATE-UNHAPPY.'
-
- Daylight and champain discovers not more. This is open. I will be
- proud, I will read politic authors, I will baffle Sir Toby, I
- will wash off gross acquaintance, I will be point-devise the very
- man. I do not now fool myself to let imagination jade me; for
- every reason excites to this, that my lady loves me. She did
- commend my yellow stockings of late, she did praise my leg being
- cross-garter'd; and in this she manifests herself to my love, and
- with a kind of injunction drives me to these habits of her
- liking. I thank my stars I am happy. I will be strange, stout, in
- yellow stockings, and cross-garter'd, even with the swiftness of
- putting on. Jove and my stars be praised! Here is yet a
- postscript.
-
- [Reads] 'Thou canst not choose but know who I am. If thou
- entertain'st my love, let it appear in thy smiling; thy smiles
- become thee well. Therefore in my presence still smile, dear my
- sweet, I prithee.'
-
- Jove, I thank thee. I will smile; I will do everything that thou
- wilt have me. Exit
- FABIAN. I will not give my part of this sport for a pension of
- thousands to be paid from the Sophy.
- SIR TOBY. I could marry this wench for this device.
- AGUECHEEK. So could I too.
- SIR TOBY. And ask no other dowry with her but such another jest.
-
- Enter MARIA
-
- AGUECHEEK. Nor I neither.
- FABIAN. Here comes my noble gull-catcher.
- SIR TOBY. Wilt thou set thy foot o' my neck?
- AGUECHEEK. Or o' mine either?
- SIR TOBY. Shall I play my freedom at tray-trip, and become thy
- bond-slave?
- AGUECHEEK. I' faith, or I either?
- SIR TOBY. Why, thou hast put him in such a dream that when the
- image of it leaves him he must run mad.
- MARIA. Nay, but say true; does it work upon him?
- SIR TOBY. Like aqua-vita! with a midwife.
- AIARIA. If you will then see the fruits of the sport, mark his
- first approach before my lady. He will come to her in yellow
- stockings, and 'tis a colour she abhors, and cross-garter'd, a
- fashion she detests; and he will smile upon her, which will now
- be so unsuitable to her disposition, being addicted to a
- melancholy as she is, that it cannot but turn him into a notable
- contempt. If you will see it, follow me.
- SIR TOBY. To the gates of Tartar, thou most excellent devil of wit!
- AGUECHEEK. I'll make one too. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT III. SCENE I.
-OLIVIA'S garden
-
-Enter VIOLA, and CLOWN with a tabor
-
- VIOLA. Save thee, friend, and thy music!
- Dost thou live by thy tabor?
- CLOWN. No, sir, I live by the church.
- VIOLA. Art thou a churchman?
- CLOWN. No such matter, sir: I do live by the church; for I do live
- at my house, and my house doth stand by the church.
- VIOLA. So thou mayst say the king lies by a beggar, if a beggar
- dwell near him; or the church stands by thy tabor, if thy tabor
- stand by the church.
- CLOWN. You have said, sir. To see this age! A sentence is but a
- chev'ril glove to a good wit. How quickly the wrong side may be
- turn'd outward!
- VIOLA. Nay, that's certain; they that dally nicely with words may
- quickly make them wanton.
- CLOWN. I would, therefore, my sister had had name, sir.
- VIOLA. Why, man?
- CLOWN. Why, sir, her name's a word; and to dally with that word
- might make my sister wanton. But indeed words are very rascals
- since bonds disgrac'd them.
- VIOLA. Thy reason, man?
- CLOWN. Troth, sir, I can yield you none without words, and words
- are grown so false I am loath to prove reason with them.
- VIOLA. I warrant thou art a merry fellow and car'st for nothing.
- CLOWN. Not so, sir; I do care for something; but in my conscience,
- sir, I do not care for you. If that be to care for nothing, sir,
- I would it would make you invisible.
- VIOLA. Art not thou the Lady Olivia's fool?
- CLOWN. No, indeed, sir; the Lady Olivia has no folly; she will keep
- no fool, sir, till she be married; and fools are as like husbands
- as pilchers are to herrings- the husband's the bigger. I am
- indeed not her fool, but her corrupter of words.
- VIOLA. I saw thee late at the Count Orsino's.
- CLOWN. Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb like the sun- it
- shines everywhere. I would be sorry, sir, but the fool should be
- as oft with your master as with my mistress: think I saw your
- wisdom there.
- VIOLA. Nay, an thou pass upon me, I'll no more with thee.
- Hold, there's expenses for thee. [Giving a coin]
- CLOWN. Now Jove, in his next commodity of hair, send the a beard!
- VIOLA. By my troth, I'll tell thee, I am almost sick for one;
- [Aside] though I would not have it grow on my chin.- Is thy lady
- within?
- CLOWN. Would not a pair of these have bred, sir?
- VIOLA. Yes, being kept together and put to use.
- CLOWN. I would play Lord Pandarus of Phrygia, sir, to bring a
- Cressida to this Troilus.
- VIOLA. I understand you, sir; 'tis well begg'd.
- [Giving another coin]
- CLOWN. The matter, I hope, is not great, sir, begging but a beggar:
- Cressida was a beggar. My lady is within, sir. I will construe to
- them whence you come; who you are and what you would are out of
- my welkin- I might say 'element' but the word is overworn.
- Exit CLOWN
- VIOLA. This fellow is wise enough to play the fool;
- And to do that well craves a kind of wit.
- He must observe their mood on whom he jests,
- The quality of persons, and the time;
- And, like the haggard, check at every feather
- That comes before his eye. This is a practice
- As full of labour as a wise man's art;
- For folly that he wisely shows is fit;
- But wise men, folly-fall'n, quite taint their wit.
-
- Enter SIR TOBY and SIR ANDREW
-
- SIR TOBY. Save you, gentleman!
- VIOLA. And you, sir.
- AGUECHEEK. Dieu vous garde, monsieur.
- VIOLA. Et vous aussi; votre serviteur.
- AGUECHEEK. I hope, sir, you are; and I am yours.
- SIR TOBY. Will you encounter the house? My niece is desirous you
- should enter, if your trade be to her.
- VIOLA. I am bound to your niece, sir; I mean, she is the list of my
- voyage.
- SIR TOBY. Taste your legs, sir; put them to motion.
- VIOLA. My legs do better understand me, sir, than I understand what
- you mean by bidding me taste my legs.
- SIR TOBY. I mean, to go, sir, to enter.
- VIOLA. I will answer you with gait and entrance. But we are
- prevented.
-
- Enter OLIVIA and MARIA
-
- Most excellent accomplish'd lady, the heavens rain odours on you!
- AGUECHEEK. That youth's a rare courtier- 'Rain odours' well!
- VIOLA. My matter hath no voice, lady, but to your own most pregnant
- and vouchsafed car.
- AGUECHEEK. 'Odours,' 'pregnant,' and 'vouchsafed'- I'll get 'em all
- three all ready.
- OLIVIA. Let the garden door be shut, and leave me to my hearing.
- [Exeunt all but OLIVIA and VIOLA] Give me your hand, sir.
- VIOLA. My duty, madam, and most humble service.
- OLIVIA. What is your name?
- VIOLA. Cesario is your servant's name, fair Princess.
- OLIVIA. My servant, sir! 'Twas never merry world
- Since lowly feigning was call'd compliment.
- Y'are servant to the Count Orsino, youth.
- VIOLA. And he is yours, and his must needs be yours:
- Your servant's servant is your servant, madam.
- OLIVIA. For him, I think not on him; for his thoughts,
- Would they were blanks rather than fill'd with me!
- VIOLA. Madam, I come to whet your gentle thoughts
- On his behalf.
- OLIVIA. O, by your leave, I pray you:
- I bade you never speak again of him;
- But, would you undertake another suit,
- I had rather hear you to solicit that
- Than music from the spheres.
- VIOLA. Dear lady-
- OLIVIA. Give me leave, beseech you. I did send,
- After the last enchantment you did here,
- A ring in chase of you; so did I abuse
- Myself, my servant, and, I fear me, you.
- Under your hard construction must I sit,
- To force that on you in a shameful cunning
- Which you knew none of yours. What might you think?
- Have you not set mine honour at the stake,
- And baited it with all th' unmuzzled thoughts
- That tyrannous heart can think? To one of your receiving
- Enough is shown: a cypress, not a bosom,
- Hides my heart. So, let me hear you speak.
- VIOLA. I Pity YOU.
- OLIVIA. That's a degree to love.
- VIOLA. No, not a grize; for 'tis a vulgar proof
- That very oft we pity enemies.
- OLIVIA. Why, then, methinks 'tis time to smile again.
- O world, how apt the poor are to be proud!
- If one should be a prey, how much the better
- To fall before the lion than the wolf! [Clock strikes]
- The clock upbraids me with the waste of time.
- Be not afraid, good youth; I will not have you;
- And yet, when wit and youth is come to harvest,
- Your wife is like to reap a proper man.
- There lies your way, due west.
- VIOLA. Then westward-ho!
- Grace and good disposition attend your ladyship!
- You'll nothing, madam, to my lord by me?
- OLIVIA. Stay.
- I prithee tell me what thou think'st of me.
- VIOLA. That you do think you are not what you are.
- OLIVIA. If I think so, I think the same of you.
- VIOLA. Then think you right: I am not what I am.
- OLIVIA. I would you were as I would have you be!
- VIOLA. Would it be better, madam, than I am?
- I wish it might, for now I am your fool.
- OLIVIA. O, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful
- In the contempt and anger of his lip!
- A murd'rous guilt shows not itself more soon
- Than love that would seem hid: love's night is noon.
- Cesario, by the roses of the spring,
- By maidhood, honour, truth, and every thing,
- I love thee so that, maugre all thy pride,
- Nor wit nor reason can my passion hide.
- Do not extort thy reasons from this clause,
- For that I woo, thou therefore hast no cause;
- But rather reason thus with reason fetter:
- Love sought is good, but given unsought is better.
- VIOLA. By innocence I swear, and by my youth,
- I have one heart, one bosom, and one truth,
- And that no woman has; nor never none
- Shall mistress be of it, save I alone.
- And so adieu, good madam; never more
- Will I my master's tears to you deplore.
- OLIVIA. Yet come again; for thou perhaps mayst move
- That heart which now abhors to like his love. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-OLIVIA'S house
-
-Enter SIR TOBY, SIR ANDREW and FABIAN
-
- AGUECHEEK. No, faith, I'll not stay a jot longer.
- SIR TOBY. Thy reason, dear venom, give thy reason.
- FABIAN. You must needs yield your reason, Sir Andrew.
- AGUECHEEK. Marry, I saw your niece do more favours to the Count's
- servingman than ever she bestow'd upon me; I saw't i' th'
- orchard.
- SIR TOBY. Did she see thee the while, old boy? Tell me that.
- AGUECHEEK. As plain as I see you now.
- FABIAN. This was a great argument of love in her toward you.
- AGUECHEEK. 'Slight! will you make an ass o' me?
- FABIAN. I will prove it legitimate, sir, upon the oaths of judgment
- and reason.
- SIR TOBY. And they have been grand-jurymen since before Noah was a
- sailor.
- FABIAN. She did show favour to the youth in your sight only to
- exasperate you, to awake your dormouse valour, to put fire in
- your heart and brimstone in your liver. You should then have
- accosted her; and with some excellent jests, fire-new from the
- mint, you should have bang'd the youth into dumbness. This was
- look'd for at your hand, and this was baulk'd. The double gilt of
- this opportunity you let time wash off, and you are now sail'd
- into the north of my lady's opinion; where you will hang like an
- icicle on Dutchman's beard, unless you do redeem it by some
- laudable attempt either of valour or policy.
- AGUECHEEK. An't be any way, it must be with valour, for policy I
- hate; I had as lief be a Brownist as a politician.
- SIR TOBY. Why, then, build me thy fortunes upon the basis of
- valour. Challenge me the Count's youth to fight with him; hurt
- him in eleven places. My niece shall take note of it; and assure
- thyself there is no love-broker in the world can more prevail in
- man's commendation with woman than report of valour.
- FABIAN. There is no way but this, Sir Andrew.
- AGUECHEEK. Will either of you bear me a challenge to him?
- SIR TOBY. Go, write it in a martial hand; be curst and brief; it is
- no matter how witty, so it be eloquent and full of invention.
- Taunt him with the license of ink; if thou thou'st him some
- thrice, it shall not be amiss; and as many lies as will lie in
- thy sheet of paper, although the sheet were big enough for the
- bed of Ware in England, set 'em down; go about it. Let there be
- gall enough in thy ink, though thou write with a goose-pen, no
- matter. About it.
- AGUECHEEK. Where shall I find you?
- SIR TOBY. We'll call thee at the cubiculo. Go.
- Exit SIR ANDREW
- FABIAN. This is a dear manakin to you, Sir Toby.
- SIR TOBY. I have been dear to him, lad- some two thousand strong,
- or so.
- FABIAN. We shall have a rare letter from him; but you'll not
- deliver't?
- SIR TOBY. Never trust me then; and by all means stir on the youth
- to an answer. I think oxen and wainropes cannot hale them
- together. For Andrew, if he were open'd and you find so much
- blood in his liver as will clog the foot of a flea, I'll eat the
- rest of th' anatomy.
- FABIAN. And his opposite, the youth, bears in his visage no great
- presage of cruelty.
-
- Enter MARIA
-
- SIR TOBY. Look where the youngest wren of nine comes.
- MARIA. If you desire the spleen, and will laugh yourselves into
- stitches, follow me. Yond gull Malvolio is turned heathen, a very
- renegado; for there is no Christian that means to be saved by
- believing rightly can ever believe such impossible passages of
- grossness. He's in yellow stockings.
- SIR TOBY. And cross-garter'd?
- MARIA. Most villainously; like a pedant that keeps a school i' th'
- church. I have dogg'd him like his murderer. He does obey every
- point of the letter that I dropp'd to betray him. He does smile
- his face into more lines than is in the new map with the
- augmentation of the Indies. You have not seen such a thing as
- 'tis; I can hardly forbear hurling things at him. I know my lady
- will strike him; if she do, he'll smile and take't for a great
- favour.
- SIR TOBY. Come, bring us, bring us where he is. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-A street
-
-Enter SEBASTIAN and ANTONIO
-
- SEBASTIAN. I would not by my will have troubled you;
- But since you make your pleasure of your pains,
- I will no further chide you.
- ANTONIO. I could not stay behind you: my desire,
- More sharp than filed steel, did spur me forth;
- And not all love to see you- though so much
- As might have drawn one to a longer voyage-
- But jealousy what might befall your travel,
- Being skilless in these parts; which to a stranger,
- Unguided and unfriended, often prove
- Rough and unhospitable. My willing love,
- The rather by these arguments of fear,
- Set forth in your pursuit.
- SEBASTIAN. My kind Antonio,
- I can no other answer make but thanks,
- And thanks, and ever thanks; and oft good turns
- Are shuffl'd off with such uncurrent pay;
- But were my worth as is my conscience firm,
- You should find better dealing. What's to do?
- Shall we go see the reliques of this town?
- ANTONIO. To-morrow, sir; best first go see your lodging.
- SEBASTIAN. I am not weary, and 'tis long to night;
- I pray you, let us satisfy our eyes
- With the memorials and the things of fame
- That do renown this city.
- ANTONIO. Would you'd pardon me.
- I do not without danger walk these streets:
- Once in a sea-fight 'gainst the Count his galleys
- I did some service; of such note, indeed,
- That, were I ta'en here, it would scarce be answer'd.
- SEBASTIAN. Belike you slew great number of his people.
- ANTONIO.Th' offence is not of such a bloody nature;
- Albeit the quality of the time and quarrel
- Might well have given us bloody argument.
- It might have since been answer'd in repaying
- What we took from them; which, for traffic's sake,
- Most of our city did. Only myself stood out;
- For which, if I be lapsed in this place,
- I shall pay dear.
- SEBASTIAN. Do not then walk too open.
- ANTONIO. It doth not fit me. Hold, sir, here's my purse;
- In the south suburbs, at the Elephant,
- Is best to lodge. I will bespeak our diet,
- Whiles you beguile the time and feed your knowledge
- With viewing of the town; there shall you have me.
- SEBASTIAN. Why I your purse?
- ANTONIO. Haply your eye shall light upon some toy
- You have desire to purchase; and your store,
- I think, is not for idle markets, sir.
- SEBASTIAN. I'll be your purse-bearer, and leave you for
- An hour.
- ANTONIO. To th' Elephant.
- SEBASTIAN. I do remember. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE IV.
-OLIVIA'S garden
-
-Enter OLIVIA and MARIA
-
- OLIVIA. I have sent after him; he says he'll come.
- How shall I feast him? What bestow of him?
- For youth is bought more oft than begg'd or borrow'd.
- I speak too loud.
- Where's Malvolio? He is sad and civil,
- And suits well for a servant with my fortunes.
- Where is Malvolio?
- MARIA. He's coming, madam; but in very strange manner.
- He is sure possess'd, madam.
- OLIVIA. Why, what's the matter? Does he rave?
- MARIA. No, madam, he does nothing but smile. Your ladyship were
- best to have some guard about you if he come; for sure the man is
- tainted in's wits.
- OLIVIA. Go call him hither. Exit MARIA
- I am as mad as he,
- If sad and merry madness equal be.
-
- Re-enter MARIA with MALVOLIO
-
- How now, Malvolio!
- MALVOLIO. Sweet lady, ho, ho.
- OLIVIA. Smil'st thou?
- I sent for thee upon a sad occasion.
- MALVOLIO. Sad, lady? I could be sad. This does make some
- obstruction in the blood, this cross-gartering; but what of that?
- If it please the eye of one, it is with me as the very true
- sonnet is: 'Please one and please all.'
- OLIVIA. Why, how dost thou, man? What is the matter with thee?
- MALVOLIO. Not black in my mind, though yellow in my legs.
- It did come to his hands, and commands shall be executed.
- I think we do know the sweet Roman hand.
- OLIVIA. Wilt thou go to bed, Malvolio?
- MALVOLIO. To bed? Ay, sweetheart, and I'll come to thee.
- OLIVIA. God comfort thee! Why dost thou smile so, and kiss thy hand
- so oft?
- MARIA. How do you, Malvolio?
- MALVOLIO. At your request? Yes, nightingales answer daws!
- MARIA. Why appear you with this ridiculous boldness before my lady?
- MALVOLIO. 'Be not afraid of greatness.' 'Twas well writ.
- OLIVIA. What mean'st thou by that, Malvolio?
- AIALVOLIO. 'Some are born great,'-
- OLIVIA. Ha?
- MALVOLIO. 'Some achieve greatness,'-
- OLIVIA. What say'st thou?
- MALVOLIO. 'And some have greatness thrust upon them.'
- OLIVIA. Heaven restore thee!
- MALVOLIO. 'Remember who commended thy yellow stockings,'-
- OLIVIA. 'Thy yellow stockings?'
- MALVOLIO. 'And wish'd to see thee cross-garterd.'
- OLIVIA. 'Cross-garter'd?'
- MALVOLIO. 'Go to, thou an made, if thou desir'st to be so';-
- OLIVIA. Am I made?
- MALVOLIO. 'If not, let me see thee a servant still.'
- OLIVIA. Why, this is very midsummer madness.
-
- Enter SERVANT
-
- SERVANT. Madam, the young gentleman of the Count Orsino's is
- return'd; I could hardly entreat him back; he attends your
- ladyship's pleasure.
- OLIVIA. I'll come to him. [Exit SERVANT] Good Maria, let this
- fellow be look'd to. Where's my cousin Toby? Let some of my
- people have a special care of him; I would not have him miscarry
- for the half of my dowry.
- Exeunt OLIVIA and MARIA
- MALVOLIO. O, ho! do you come near me now? No worse man than Sir
- Toby to look to me! This concurs directly with the letter: she
- sends him on purpose, that I may appear stubborn to him; for she
- incites me to that in the letter. 'Cast thy humble slough,' says
- she. 'Be opposite with kinsman, surly with servants; let thy
- tongue tang with arguments of state; put thyself into the trick
- of singularity' and consequently sets down the manner how, as: a
- sad face, a reverend carriage, a slow tongue, in the habit of
- some sir of note, and so forth. I have lim'd her; but it is
- Jove's doing, and Jove make me thankful! And when she went away
- now- 'Let this fellow be look'd to.' 'Fellow,' not 'Malvolio' nor
- after my degree, but 'fellow.' Why, everything adheres together,
- that no dram of a scruple, no scruple of a scruple, no obstacle,
- no incredulous or unsafe circumstance- What can be said? Nothing
- that can be can come between me and the full prospect of my
- hopes. Well, Jove, not I, is the doer of this, and he is to be
- thanked.
-
- Re-enter MARIA, with SIR TOBY and FABIAN
-
- SIR TOBY. Which way is he, in the name of sanctity? If all the
- devils of hell be drawn in little, and Legion himself possess'd
- him, yet I'll speak to him.
- FABIAN. Here he is, here he is. How is't with you, sir?
- SIR TOBY. How is't with you, man?
- MALVOLIO. Go off; I discard you. Let me enjoy my private; go off.
- MARIA. Lo, how hollow the fiend speaks within him! Did not I tell
- you? Sir Toby, my lady prays you to have a care of him.
- MALVOLIO. Ah, ha! does she so?
- SIR TOBY. Go to, go to; peace, peace; we must deal gently with him.
- Let me alone. How do you, Malvolio? How is't with you? What, man,
- defy the devil; consider, he's an enemy to mankind.
- MALVOLIO. Do you know what you say?
- MARIA. La you, an you speak ill of the devil, how he takes it at
- heart! Pray God he be not bewitched.
- FABIAN. Carry his water to th' wise woman.
- MARIA. Marry, and it shall be done to-morrow morning, if I live. My
- lady would not lose him for more than I'll say.
- MALVOLIO. How now, mistress!
- MARIA. O Lord!
- SIR TOBY. Prithee hold thy peace; this is not the way. Do you not
- see you move him? Let me alone with him.
- FABIAN. No way but gentleness- gently, gently. The fiend is rough,
- and will not be roughly us'd.
- SIR TOBY. Why, how now, my bawcock!
- How dost thou, chuck?
- MALVOLIO. Sir!
- SIR TOBY. Ay, Biddy, come with me. What, man, 'tis not for gravity
- to play at cherrypit with Satan. Hang him, foul collier!
- MARIA. Get him to say his prayers, good Sir Toby, get him to pray.
- MALVOLIO. My prayers, minx!
- MARIA. No, I warrant you, he will not hear of godliness.
- MALVOLIO. Go, hang yourselves all! You are idle shallow things; I
- am not of your element; you shall know more hereafter.
- Exit
- SIR TOBY. Is't possible?
- FABIAN. If this were play'd upon a stage now, I could condemn it as
- an improbable fiction.
- SIR TOBY. His very genius hath taken the infection of the device,
- man.
- MARIA. Nay, pursue him now, lest the device take air and taint.
- FABIAN. Why, we shall make him mad indeed.
- MARIA. The house will be the quieter.
- SIR TOBY. Come, we'll have him in a dark room and bound. My niece
- is already in the belief that he's mad. We may carry it thus, for
- our pleasure and his penance, till our very pastime, tired out of
- breath, prompt us to have mercy on him; at which time we will
- bring the device to the bar and crown thee for a finder of
- madmen. But see, but see.
-
- Enter SIR ANDREW
-
- FABIAN. More matter for a May morning.
- AGUECHEEK. Here's the challenge; read it. I warrant there's vinegar
- and pepper in't.
- FABIAN. Is't so saucy?
- AGUECHEEK. Ay, is't, I warrant him; do but read.
- SIR TOBY. Give me. [Reads] 'Youth, whatsoever thou art, thou art
- but a scurvy fellow.'
- FABIAN. Good and valiant.
- SIR TOBY. [Reads] 'Wonder not, nor admire not in thy mind, why I do
- call thee so, for I will show thee no reason for't.'
- FABIAN. A good note; that keeps you from the blow of the law.
- SIR TOBY. [Reads] 'Thou com'st to the Lady Olivia, and in my sight
- she uses thee kindly; but thou liest in thy throat; that is not
- the matter I challenge thee for.'
- FABIAN. Very brief, and to exceeding good sense- less.
- SIR TOBY. [Reads] 'I will waylay thee going home; where if it be
- thy chance to kill me'-
- FABIAN. Good.
- SIR TOBY. 'Thou kill'st me like a rogue and a villain.'
- FABIAN. Still you keep o' th' windy side of the law. Good!
- SIR TOBY. [Reads] 'Fare thee well; and God have mercy upon one of
- our souls! He may have mercy upon mine; but my hope is better,
- and so look to thyself. Thy friend, as thou usest him, and thy
- sworn enemy,
- ANDREW AGUECHEEK.'
-
- If this letter move him not, his legs cannot. I'll give't him.
- MARIA. You may have very fit occasion for't; he is now in some
- commerce with my lady, and will by and by depart.
- SIR TOBY. Go, Sir Andrew; scout me for him at the corner of the
- orchard, like a bum-baily; so soon as ever thou seest him, draw;
- and as thou draw'st, swear horrible; for it comes to pass oft
- that a terrible oath, with a swaggering accent sharply twang'd
- off, gives manhood more approbation than ever proof itself would
- have earn'd him. Away.
- AGUECHEEK. Nay, let me alone for swearing. Exit
- SIR TOBY. Now will not I deliver his letter; for the behaviour of
- the young gentleman gives him out to be of good capacity and
- breeding; his employment between his lord and my niece confirms
- no less. Therefore this letter, being so excellently ignorant,
- will breed no terror in the youth: he will find it comes from a
- clodpole. But, sir, I will deliver his challenge by word of
- mouth, set upon Aguecheek notable report of valour, and drive the
- gentleman- as know his youth will aptly receive it- into a most
- hideous opinion of his rage, skill, fury, and impetuosity. This
- will so fright them both that they will kill one another by the
- look, like cockatrices.
-
- Re-enter OLIVIA. With VIOLA
-
- FABIAN. Here he comes with your niece; give them way till he take
- leave, and presently after him.
- SIR TOBY. I will meditate the while upon some horrid message for a
- challenge.
- Exeunt SIR TOBY, FABIAN, and MARIA
- OLIVIA. I have said too much unto a heart of stone,
- And laid mine honour too unchary out;
- There's something in me that reproves my fault;
- But such a headstrong potent fault it is
- That it but mocks reproof.
- VIOLA. With the same haviour that your passion bears
- Goes on my master's griefs.
- OLIVIA. Here, wear this jewel for me; 'tis my picture.
- Refuse it not; it hath no tongue to vex you.
- And I beseech you come again to-morrow.
- What shall you ask of me that I'll deny,
- That honour sav'd may upon asking give?
- VIOLA. Nothing but this- your true love for my master.
- OLIVIA. How with mine honour may I give him that
- Which I have given to you?
- VIOLA. I will acquit you.
- OLIVIA. Well, come again to-morrow. Fare thee well;
- A fiend like thee might bear my soul to hell. Exit
-
- Re-enter SIR TOBY and SIR FABIAN
-
- SIR TOBY. Gentleman, God save thee.
- VIOLA. And you, sir.
- SIR TOBY. That defence thou hast, betake thee tot. Of what nature
- the wrongs are thou hast done him, I know not; but thy
- intercepter, full of despite, bloody as the hunter, attends
- thee at the orchard end. Dismount thy tuck, be yare in thy
- preparation, for thy assailant is quick, skilful, and deadly.
- VIOLA. You mistake, sir; I am sure no man hath any quarrel to me;
- my remembrance is very free and clear from any image of offence
- done to any man.
- SIR TOBY. You'll find it otherwise, I assure you; therefore, if you
- hold your life at any price, betake you to your guard; for your
- opposite hath in him what youth, strength, skill, and wrath, can
- furnish man withal.
- VIOLA. I pray you, sir, what is he?
- SIR TOBY. He is knight, dubb'd with unhatch'd rapier and on carpet
- consideration; but he is a devil in private brawl. Souls and
- bodies hath he divorc'd three; and his incensement at this moment
- is so implacable that satisfaction can be none but by pangs of
- death and sepulchre. Hob-nob is his word- give't or take't.
- VIOLA. I will return again into the house and desire some conduct
- of the lady. I am no fighter. I have heard of some kind of men
- that put quarrels purposely on others to taste their valour;
- belike this is a man of that quirk.
- SIR TOBY. Sir, no; his indignation derives itself out of a very
- competent injury; therefore, get you on and give him his desire.
- Back you shall not to the house, unless you undertake that with
- me which with as much safety you might answer him; therefore on,
- or strip your sword stark naked; for meddle you must, that's
- certain, or forswear to wear iron about you.
- VIOLA. This is as uncivil as strange. I beseech you do me this
- courteous office as to know of the knight what my offence to him
- is: it is something of my negligence, nothing of my purpose.
- SIR TOBY. I Will do so. Signior Fabian, stay you by this gentleman
- till my return. Exit SIR TOBY
- VIOLA. Pray you, sir, do you know of this matter?
- FABIAN. I know the knight is incens'd against you, even to a mortal
- arbitrement; but nothing of the circumstance more.
- VIOLA. I beseech you, what manner of man is he?
- FABIAN. Nothing of that wonderful promise, to read him by his form,
- as you are like to find him in the proof of his valour. He is
- indeed, sir, the most skilful, bloody, and fatal opposite that
- you could possibly have found in any part of Illyria. Will you
- walk towards him? I will make your peace with him if I can.
- VIOLA. I shall be much bound to you for't. I am one that would
- rather go with sir priest than sir knight. I care not who knows
- so much of my mettle. Exeunt
-
- Re-enter SIR TOBY With SIR ANDREW
-
- SIR TOBY. Why, man, he's a very devil; I have not seen such a
- firago. I had a pass with him, rapier, scabbard, and all, and he
- gives me the stuck in with such a mortal motion that it is
- inevitable; and on the answer, he pays you as surely as your feet
- hit the ground they step on. They say he has been fencer to the
- Sophy.
- AGUECHEEK. Pox on't, I'll not meddle with him.
- SIR TOBY. Ay, but he will not now be pacified; Fabian can scarce
- hold him yonder.
- AGUECHEEK. Plague on't; an I thought he had been valiant, and so
- cunning in fence, I'd have seen him damn'd ere I'd have
- challeng'd him. Let him let the matter slip, and I'll give him
- my horse, grey Capilet.
- SIR TOBY. I'll make the motion. Stand here, make a good show on't;
- this shall end without the perdition of souls. [Aside] Marry,
- I'll ride your horse as well as I ride you.
-
- Re-enter FABIAN and VIOLA
-
- [To FABIAN] I have his horse to take up the quarrel; I have
- persuaded him the youth's a devil.
- FABIAN. [To SIR TOBY] He is as horribly conceited of him; and pants
- and looks pale, as if a bear were at his heels.
- SIR TOBY. [To VIOLA] There's no remedy, sir: he will fight with you
- for's oath sake. Marry, he hath better bethought him of his
- quarrel, and he finds that now scarce to be worth talking of.
- Therefore draw for the supportance of his vow; he protests he
- will not hurt you.
- VIOLA. [Aside] Pray God defend me! A little thing would make me
- tell them how much I lack of a man.
- FABIAN. Give ground if you see him furious.
- SIR TOBY. Come, Sir Andrew, there's no remedy; the gentleman will,
- for his honour's sake, have one bout with you; he cannot by the
- duello avoid it; but he has promis'd me, as he is a gentleman and
- a soldier, he will not hurt you. Come on; to't.
- AGUECHEEK. Pray God he keep his oath! [They draw]
-
- Enter ANTONIO
-
- VIOLA. I do assure you 'tis against my will.
- ANTONIO. Put up your sword. If this young gentleman
- Have done offence, I take the fault on me:
- If you offend him, I for him defy you.
- SIR TOBY. You, sir! Why, what are you?
- ANTONIO. One, sir, that for his love dares yet do more
- Than you have heard him brag to you he will.
- SIR TOBY. Nay, if you be an undertaker, I am for you.
- [They draw]
-
- Enter OFFICERS
-
- FABIAN. O good Sir Toby, hold! Here come the officers.
- SIR TOBY. [To ANTONIO] I'll be with you anon.
- VIOLA. Pray, sir, put your sword up, if you please.
- AGUECHEEK. Marry, will I, sir; and for that I promis'd you, I'll be
- as good as my word. He will bear you easily and reins well.
- FIRST OFFICER. This is the man; do thy office.
- SECOND OFFICER. Antonio, I arrest thee at the suit
- Of Count Orsino.
- ANTONIO. You do mistake me, sir.
- FIRST OFFICER. No, sir, no jot; I know your favour well,
- Though now you have no sea-cap on your head.
- Take him away; he knows I know him well.
- ANTONIO. I Must obey. [To VIOLA] This comes with seeking you;
- But there's no remedy; I shall answer it.
- What will you do, now my necessity
- Makes me to ask you for my purse? It grieves me
- Much more for what I cannot do for you
- Than what befalls myself. You stand amaz'd;
- But be of comfort.
- SECOND OFFICER. Come, sir, away.
- ANTONIO. I must entreat of you some of that money.
- VIOLA. What money, sir?
- For the fair kindness you have show'd me here,
- And part being prompted by your present trouble,
- Out of my lean and low ability
- I'll lend you something. My having is not much;
- I'll make division of my present with you;
- Hold, there's half my coffer.
- ANTONIO. Will you deny me now?
- Is't possible that my deserts to you
- Can lack persuasion? Do not tempt my misery,
- Lest that it make me so unsound a man
- As to upbraid you with those kindnesses
- That I have done for you.
- VIOLA. I know of none,
- Nor know I you by voice or any feature.
- I hate ingratitude more in a man
- Than lying, vainness, babbling drunkenness,
- Or any taint of vice whose strong corruption
- Inhabits our frail blood.
- ANTONIO. O heavens themselves!
- SECOND OFFICER. Come, sir, I pray you go.
- ANTONIO. Let me speak a little. This youth that you see here
- I snatch'd one half out of the jaws of death,
- Reliev'd him with such sanctity of love,
- And to his image, which methought did promise
- Most venerable worth, did I devotion.
- FIRST OFFICER. What's that to us? The time goes by; away.
- ANTONIO. But, O, how vile an idol proves this god!
- Thou hast, Sebastian, done good feature shame.
- In nature there's no blemish but the mind:
- None can be call'd deform'd but the unkind.
- Virtue is beauty; but the beauteous evil
- Are empty trunks, o'erflourish'd by the devil.
- FIRST OFFICER. The man grows mad. Away with him.
- Come, come, sir.
- ANTONIO. Lead me on. Exit with OFFICERS
- VIOLA. Methinks his words do from such passion fly
- That he believes himself; so do not I.
- Prove true, imagination, O, prove true,
- That I, dear brother, be now ta'en for you!
- SIR TOBY. Come hither, knight; come hither, Fabian; we'll whisper
- o'er a couplet or two of most sage saws.
- VIOLA. He nam'd Sebastian. I my brother know
- Yet living in my glass; even such and so
- In favour was my brother; and he went
- Still in this fashion, colour, ornament,
- For him I imitate. O, if it prove,
- Tempests are kind, and salt waves fresh in love! Exit
- SIR TOBY. A very dishonest paltry boy, and more a coward than a
- hare. His dishonesty appears in leaving his friend here in
- necessity and denying him; and for his cowardship, ask Fabian.
- FABIAN. A coward, a most devout coward, religious in it.
- AGUECHEEK. 'Slid, I'll after him again and beat him.
- SIR TOBY. Do; cuff him soundly, but never draw thy sword.
- AGUECHEEK. And I do not- Exit
- FABIAN. Come, let's see the event.
- SIR TOBY. I dare lay any money 'twill be nothing yet.
- Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-ACT IV. SCENE I.
-Before OLIVIA'S house
-
-Enter SEBASTIAN and CLOWN
-
- CLOWN. Will you make me believe that I am not sent for you?
- SEBASTIAN. Go to, go to, thou art a foolish fellow; let me be clear
- of thee.
- CLOWN. Well held out, i' faith! No, I do not know you; nor I am not
- sent to you by my lady, to bid you come speak with her; nor your
- name is not Master Cesario; nor this is not my nose neither.
- Nothing that is so is so.
- SEBASTIAN. I prithee vent thy folly somewhere else.
- Thou know'st not me.
- CLOWN. Vent my folly! He has heard that word of some great man, and
- now applies it to a fool. Vent my folly! I am afraid this great
- lubber, the world, will prove a cockney. I prithee now, ungird
- thy strangeness, and tell me what I shall vent to my lady. Shall
- I vent to her that thou art coming?
- SEBASTIAN. I prithee, foolish Greek, depart from me;
- There's money for thee; if you tarry longer
- I shall give worse payment.
- CLOWN. By my troth, thou hast an open hand. These wise men that
- give fools money get themselves a good report after fourteen
- years' purchase.
-
- Enter SIR ANDREW, SIR TOBY, and FABIAN
-
- AGUECHEEK. Now, sir, have I met you again?
- [Striking SEBASTIAN] There's for you.
- SEBASTIAN. Why, there's for thee, and there, and there.
- Are all the people mad?
- SIR TOBY. Hold, sir, or I'll throw your dagger o'er the house.
- [Holding SEBASTIAN]
- CLOWN. This will I tell my lady straight. I would not be in some of
- your coats for two-pence. Exit
- SIR TOBY. Come on, sir; hold.
- AGUECHEEK. Nay, let him alone. I'll go another way to work with
- him; I'll have an action of battery against him, if there be any
- law in Illyria; though I struck him first, yet it's no matter for
- that.
- SEBASTIAN. Let go thy hand.
- SIR TOBY. Come, sir, I will not let you go. Come, my young soldier,
- put up your iron; you are well flesh'd. Come on.
- SEBASTIAN. I will be free from thee. What wouldst thou now?
- If thou dar'st tempt me further, draw thy sword. [Draws]
- SIR TOBY. What, what? Nay, then I must have an ounce or two of this
- malapert blood from you. [Draws]
-
- Enter OLIVIA
-
- OLIVIA. Hold, Toby; on thy life, I charge thee hold.
- SIR TOBY. Madam!
- OLIVIA. Will it be ever thus? Ungracious wretch,
- Fit for the mountains and the barbarous caves,
- Where manners ne'er were preach'd! Out of my sight!
- Be not offended, dear Cesario-
- Rudesby, be gone!
- Exeunt SIR TOBY, SIR ANDREW, and FABIAN
- I prithee, gentle friend,
- Let thy fair wisdom, not thy passion, sway
- In this uncivil and unjust extent
- Against thy peace. Go with me to my house,
- And hear thou there how many fruitless pranks
- This ruffian hath botch'd up, that thou thereby
- Mayst smile at this. Thou shalt not choose but go;
- Do not deny. Beshrew his soul for me!
- He started one poor heart of mine in thee.
- SEBASTIAN. What relish is in this? How runs the stream?
- Or I am mad, or else this is a dream.
- Let fancy still my sense in Lethe steep;
- If it be thus to dream, still let me sleep!
- OLIVIA. Nay, come, I prithee. Would thou'dst be rul'd by me!
- SEBASTIAN. Madam, I will.
- OLIVIA. O, say so, and so be! Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-OLIVIA'S house
-
-Enter MARIA and CLOWN
-
- MARIA. Nay, I prithee, put on this gown and this beard; make him
- believe thou art Sir Topas the curate; do it quickly. I'll call
- Sir Toby the whilst. Exit
- CLOWN. Well, I'll put it on, and I will dissemble myself in't; and
- I would I were the first that ever dissembled in such a gown. I
- am not tall enough to become the function well nor lean enough to
- be thought a good student; but to be said an honest man and a
- good housekeeper goes as fairly as to say a careful man and a
- great scholar. The competitors enter.
-
- Enter SIR TOBY and MARIA
-
- SIR TOBY. Jove bless thee, Master Parson.
- CLOWN. Bonos dies, Sir Toby; for as the old hermit of Prague, that
- never saw pen and ink, very wittily said to niece of King
- Gorboduc 'That that is is'; so I, being Master Parson, am Master
- Parson; for what is 'that' but that, and 'is' but is?
- SIR TOBY. To him, Sir Topas.
- CLOWN. What ho, I say! Peace in this prison!
- SIR TOBY. The knave counterfeits well; a good knave.
- MALVOLIO. [Within] Who calls there?
- CLOWN. Sir Topas the curate, who comes to visit Malvolio the
- lunatic.
- MALVOLIO. Sir Topas, Sir Topas, good Sir Topas, go to my lady.
- CLOWN. Out, hyperbolical fiend! How vexest thou this man!
- Talkest thou nothing but of ladies?
- SIR TOBY. Well said, Master Parson.
- MALVOLIO. Sir Topas, never was man thus wronged. Good Sir Topas, do
- not think I am mad; they have laid me here in hideous darkness.
- CLOWN. Fie, thou dishonest Satan! I call thee by the most modest
- terms, for I am one of those gentle ones that will use the devil
- himself with courtesy. Say'st thou that house is dark?
- MALVOLIO. As hell, Sir Topas.
- CLOWN. Why, it hath bay windows transparent as barricadoes, and the
- clerestories toward the south north are as lustrous as ebony; and
- yet complainest thou of obstruction?
- MALVOLIO. I am not mad, Sir Topas. I say to you this house is dark.
- CLOWN. Madman, thou errest. I say there is no darkness but
- ignorance; in which thou art more puzzled than the Egyptians in
- their fog.
- MALVOLIO. I say this house is as dark as ignorance, though
- ignorance were as dark as hell; and I say there was never man
- thus abus'd. I am no more mad than you are; make the trial of it
- in any constant question.
- CLOWN. What is the opinion of Pythagoras concerning wild fowl?
- MALVOLIO. That the soul of our grandam might haply inhabit a bird.
- CLOWN. What think'st thou of his opinion?
- MALVOLIO. I think nobly of the soul, and no way approve his
- opinion.
- CLOWN. Fare thee well. Remain thou still in darkness: thou shalt
- hold th' opinion of Pythagoras ere I will allow of thy wits; and
- fear to kill a woodcock, lest thou dispossess the soul of thy
- grandam. Fare thee well.
- MALVOLIO. Sir Topas, Sir Topas!
- SIR TOBY. My most exquisite Sir Topas!
- CLOWN. Nay, I am for all waters.
- MARIA. Thou mightst have done this without thy beard and gown: he
- sees thee not.
- SIR TOBY. To him in thine own voice, and bring me word how thou
- find'st him. I would we were well rid of this knavery. If he may
- be conveniently deliver'd, I would he were; for I am now so far
- in offence with my niece that I cannot pursue with any safety
- this sport to the upshot. Come by and by to my chamber.
- Exit with MARIA
- CLOWN. [Sings] Hey, Robin, jolly Robin,
- Tell me how thy lady does.
- MALVOLIO. Fool!
- CLOWN. [Sings] My lady is unkind, perdy.
- MALVOLIO. Fool!
- CLOWN. [Sings] Alas, why is she so?
- MALVOLIO. Fool I say!
- CLOWN. [Sings] She loves another- Who calls, ha?
- MALVOLIO. Good fool, as ever thou wilt deserve well at my hand,
- help me to a candle, and pen, ink, and paper; as I am a
- gentleman, I will live to be thankful to thee for't.
- CLOWN. Master Malvolio?
- MALVOLIO. Ay, good fool.
- CLOWN. Alas, sir, how fell you besides your five wits?
- MALVOLIO. Fool, there was never man so notoriously abus'd;
- I am as well in my wits, fool, as thou art.
- CLOWN. But as well? Then you are mad indeed, if you be no better in
- your wits than a fool.
- MALVOLIO. They have here propertied me; keep me in darkness, send
- ministers to me, asses, and do all they can to face me out of my
- wits.
- CLOWN. Advise you what. you say: the minister is here.
- [Speaking as SIR TOPAS] Malvolio, thy wits the heavens restore!
- Endeavour thyself to sleep, and leave thy vain bibble-babble.
- MALVOLIO. Sir Topas!
- CLOWN. Maintain no words with him, good fellow.- Who, I, sir? Not
- I, sir. God buy you, good Sir Topas.- Marry, amen.- I will sir, I
- will.
- MALVOLIO. Fool, fool, fool, I say!
- CLOWN. Alas, sir, be patient. What say you, sir? I am shent for
- speaking to you.
- MALVOLIO. Good fool, help me to some light and some paper.
- I tell thee I am as well in my wits as any man in Illyria.
- CLOWN. Well-a-day that you were, sir!
- MALVOLIO. By this hand, I am. Good fool, some ink, paper, and
- light; and convey what I will set down to my lady. It shall
- advantage thee more than ever the bearing of letter did.
- CLOWN. I will help you to't. But tell me true, are you not mad
- indeed, or do you but counterfeit?
- MALVOLIO. Believe me, I am not; I tell thee true.
- CLOWN. Nay, I'll ne'er believe a madman till I see his brains.
- I will fetch you light and paper and ink.
- MALVOLIO. Fool, I'll requite it in the highest degree; I prithe be
- gone.
- CLOWN. [Singing]
- I am gone, sir,
- And anon, sir,
- I'll be with you again,
- In a trice,
- Like to the old Vice,
- Your need to sustain;
-
- Who with dagger of lath,
- In his rage and his wrath,
- Cries, Ah, ha! to the devil,
- Like a mad lad,
- Pare thy nails, dad.
- Adieu, goodman devil. Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-OLIVIA'S garden
-
-Enter SEBASTIAN
-
- SEBASTIAN. This is the air; that is the glorious sun;
- This pearl she gave me, I do feel't and see't;
- And though 'tis wonder that enwraps me thus,
- Yet 'tis not madness. Where's Antonio, then?
- I could not find him at the Elephant;
- Yet there he was; and there I found this credit,
- That he did range the town to seek me out.
- His counsel now might do me golden service;
- For though my soul disputes well with my sense
- That this may be some error, but no madness,
- Yet doth this accident and flood of fortune
- So far exceed all instance, all discourse,
- That I am ready to distrust mine eyes
- And wrangle with my reason, that persuades me
- To any other trust but that I am mad,
- Or else the lady's mad; yet if 'twere so,
- She could not sway her house, command her followers,
- Take and give back affairs and their dispatch
- With such a smooth, discreet, and stable bearing,
- As I perceive she does. There's something in't
- That is deceivable. But here the lady comes.
-
- Enter OLIVIA and PRIEST
-
- OLIVIA. Blame not this haste of mine. If you mean well,
- Now go with me and with this holy man
- Into the chantry by; there, before him
- And underneath that consecrated roof,
- Plight me the fun assurance of your faith,
- That my most jealous and too doubtful soul
- May live at peace. He shall conceal it
- Whiles you are willing it shall come to note,
- What time we will our celebration keep
- According to my birth. What do you say?
- SEBASTIAN. I'll follow this good man, and go with you;
- And, having sworn truth, ever will be true.
- OLIVIA. Then lead the way, good father; and heavens so shine
- That they may fairly note this act of mine! Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-ACT V. SCENE I.
-Before OLIVIA's house
-
-Enter CLOWN and FABIAN
-
- FABIAN. Now, as thou lov'st me, let me see his letter.
- CLOWN. Good Master Fabian, grant me another request.
- FABIAN. Anything.
- CLOWN. Do not desire to see this letter.
- FABIAN. This is to give a dog, and in recompense desire my dog
- again.
-
- Enter DUKE, VIOLA, CURIO, and LORDS
-
- DUKE. Belong you to the Lady Olivia, friends?
- CLOWN. Ay, sir, we are some of her trappings.
- DUKE. I know thee well. How dost thou, my good fellow?
- CLOWN. Truly, sir, the better for my foes and the worse for my
- friends.
- DUKE. Just the contrary: the better for thy friends.
- CLOWN. No, sir, the worse.
- DUKE. How can that be?
- CLOWN. Marry, sir, they praise me and make an ass of me. Now my
- foes tell me plainly I am an ass; so that by my foes, sir, I
- profit in the knowledge of myself, and by my friends I am abused;
- so that, conclusions to be as kisses, if your four negatives make
- your two affirmatives, why then, the worse for my friends, and
- the better for my foes.
- DUKE. Why, this is excellent.
- CLOWN. By my troth, sir, no; though it please you to be one of my
- friends.
- DUKE. Thou shalt not be the worse for me. There's gold.
- CLOWN. But that it would be double-dealing, sir, I would you could
- make it another.
- DUKE. O, you give me ill counsel.
- CLOWN. Put your grace in your pocket, sir, for this once, and let
- your flesh and blood obey it.
- DUKE. Well, I will be so much a sinner to be a double-dealer.
- There's another.
- CLOWN. Primo, secundo, tertio, is a good play; and the old saying
- is 'The third pays for all.' The triplex, sir, is a good tripping
- measure; or the bells of Saint Bennet, sir, may put you in mind-
- one, two, three.
- DUKE. You can fool no more money out of me at this throw; if you
- will let your lady know I am here to speak with her, and bring
- her along with you, it may awake my bounty further.
- CLOWN. Marry, sir, lullaby to your bounty till I come again. I go,
- sir; but I would not have you to think that my desire of having
- is the sin of covetousness. But, as you say, sir, let your bounty
- take a nap; I will awake it anon. Exit
-
- Enter ANTONIO and OFFICERS
-
- VIOLA. Here comes the man, sir, that did rescue me.
- DUKE. That face of his I do remember well;
- Yet when I saw it last it was besmear'd
- As black as Vulcan in the smoke of war.
- A baubling vessel was he captain of,
- For shallow draught and bulk unprizable,
- With which such scathful grapple did he make
- With the most noble bottom of our fleet
- That very envy and the tongue of los
- Cried fame and honour on him. What's the matter?
- FIRST OFFICER. Orsino, this is that Antonio
- That took the Phoenix and her fraught from Candy;
- And this is he that did the Tiger board
- When your young nephew Titus lost his leg.
- Here in the streets, desperate of shame and state,
- In private brabble did we apprehend him.
- VIOLA. He did me kindness, sir; drew on my side;
- But in conclusion put strange speech upon me.
- I know not what 'twas but distraction.
- DUKE. Notable pirate, thou salt-water thief!
- What foolish boldness brought thee to their mercies
- Whom thou, in terms so bloody and so dear,
- Hast made thine enemies?
- ANTONIO. Orsino, noble sir,
- Be pleas'd that I shake off these names you give me:
- Antonio never yet was thief or pirate,
- Though I confess, on base and ground enough,
- Orsino's enemy. A witchcraft drew me hither:
- That most ingrateful boy there by your side
- From the rude sea's enrag'd and foamy mouth
- Did I redeem; a wreck past hope he was.
- His life I gave him, and did thereto ad
- My love without retention or restraint,
- All his in dedication; for his sake,
- Did I expose myself, pure for his love,
- Into the danger of this adverse town;
- Drew to defend him when he was beset;
- Where being apprehended, his false cunning,
- Not meaning to partake with me in danger,
- Taught him to face me out of his acquaintance,
- And grew a twenty years removed thing
- While one would wink; denied me mine own purse,
- Which I had recommended to his use
- Not half an hour before.
- VIOLA. How can this be?
- DUKE. When came he to this town?
- ANTONIO. To-day, my lord; and for three months before,
- No int'rim, not a minute's vacancy,
- Both day and night did we keep company.
-
- Enter OLIVIA and ATTENDANTS
-
- DUKE. Here comes the Countess; now heaven walks on earth.
- But for thee, fellow- fellow, thy words are madness.
- Three months this youth hath tended upon me-
- But more of that anon. Take him aside.
- OLIVIA. What would my lord, but that he may not have,
- Wherein Olivia may seem serviceable?
- Cesario, you do not keep promise with me.
- VIOLA. Madam?
- DUKE. Gracious Olivia-
- OLIVIA. What do you say, Cesario? Good my lord-
- VIOLA. My lord would speak; my duty hushes me.
- OLIVIA. If it be aught to the old tune, my lord,
- It is as fat and fulsome to mine ear
- As howling after music.
- DUKE. Still so cruel?
- OLIVIA. Still so constant, lord.
- DUKE. What, to perverseness? You uncivil lady,
- To whose ingrate and unauspicious altars
- My soul the faithfull'st off'rings hath breath'd out
- That e'er devotion tender'd! What shall I do?
- OLIVIA. Even what it please my lord, that shall become him.
- DUKE. Why should I not, had I the heart to do it,
- Like to the Egyptian thief at point of death,
- Kill what I love?- a savage jealousy
- That sometime savours nobly. But hear me this:
- Since you to non-regardance cast my faith,
- And that I partly know the instrument
- That screws me from my true place in your favour,
- Live you the marble-breasted tyrant still;
- But this your minion, whom I know you love,
- And whom, by heaven I swear, I tender dearly,
- Him will I tear out of that cruel eye
- Where he sits crowned in his master's spite.
- Come, boy, with me; my thoughts are ripe in mischief:
- I'll sacrifice the lamb that I do love
- To spite a raven's heart within a dove.
- VIOLA. And I, most jocund, apt, and willingly,
- To do you rest, a thousand deaths would die.
- OLIVIA. Where goes Cesario?
- VIOLA. After him I love
- More than I love these eyes, more than my life,
- More, by all mores, than e'er I shall love wife.
- If I do feign, you witnesses above
- Punish my life for tainting of my love!
- OLIVIA. Ay me, detested! How am I beguil'd!
- VIOLA. Who does beguile you? Who does do you wrong?
- OLIVIA. Hast thou forgot thyself? Is it so long?
- Call forth the holy father. Exit an ATTENDANT
- DUKE. Come, away!
- OLIVIA. Whither, my lord? Cesario, husband, stay.
- DUKE. Husband?
- OLIVIA. Ay, husband; can he that deny?
- DUKE. Her husband, sirrah?
- VIOLA. No, my lord, not I.
- OLIVIA. Alas, it is the baseness of thy fear
- That makes thee strangle thy propriety.
- Fear not, Cesario, take thy fortunes up;
- Be that thou know'st thou art, and then thou art
- As great as that thou fear'st.
-
- Enter PRIEST
-
- O, welcome, father!
- Father, I charge thee, by thy reverence,
- Here to unfold- though lately we intended
- To keep in darkness what occasion now
- Reveals before 'tis ripe- what thou dost know
- Hath newly pass'd between this youth and me.
- PRIEST. A contract of eternal bond of love,
- Confirm'd by mutual joinder of your hands,
- Attested by the holy close of lips,
- Strength'ned by interchangement of your rings;
- And all the ceremony of this compact
- Seal'd in my function, by my testimony;
- Since when, my watch hath told me, toward my grave,
- I have travell'd but two hours.
- DUKE. O thou dissembling cub! What wilt thou be,
- When time hath sow'd a grizzle on thy case?
- Or will not else thy craft so quickly grow
- That thine own trip shall be thine overthrow?
- Farewell, and take her; but direct thy feet
- Where thou and I henceforth may never meet.
- VIOLA. My lord, I do protest-
- OLIVIA. O, do not swear!
- Hold little faith, though thou has too much fear.
-
- Enter SIR ANDREW
-
- AGUECHEEK. For the love of God, a surgeon!
- Send one presently to Sir Toby.
- OLIVIA. What's the matter?
- AGUECHEEK. Has broke my head across, and has given Sir Toby a
- bloody coxcomb too. For the love of God, your help! I had rather
- than forty pound I were at home.
- OLIVIA. Who has done this, Sir Andrew?
- AGUECHEEK. The Count's gentleman, one Cesario. We took him for a
- coward, but he's the very devil incardinate.
- DUKE. My gentleman, Cesario?
- AGUECHEEK. Od's lifelings, here he is! You broke my head for
- nothing; and that that did, I was set on to do't by Sir Toby.
- VIOLA. Why do you speak to me? I never hurt you.
- You drew your sword upon me without cause;
- But I bespake you fair and hurt you not.
-
- Enter SIR TOBY and CLOWN
-
- AGUECHEEK. If a bloody coxcomb be a hurt, you have hurt me; I think
- you set nothing by a bloody coxcomb. Here comes Sir Toby halting;
- you shall hear more; but if he had not been in drink, he would
- have tickl'd you othergates than he did.
- DUKE. How now, gentleman? How is't with you?
- SIR TOBY. That's all one; has hurt me, and there's th' end on't.
- Sot, didst see Dick Surgeon, sot?
- CLOWN. O, he's drunk, Sir Toby, an hour agone; his eyes were set at
- eight i' th' morning.
- SIR TOBY. Then he's a rogue and a passy measures pavin. I hate a
- drunken rogue.
- OLIVIA. Away with him. Who hath made this havoc with them?
- AGUECHEEK. I'll help you, Sir Toby, because we'll be dress'd
- together.
- SIR TOBY. Will you help- an ass-head and a coxcomb and a knave, a
- thin fac'd knave, a gull?
- OLIVIA. Get him to bed, and let his hurt be look'd to.
- Exeunt CLOWN, FABIAN, SIR TOBY, and SIR ANDREW
-
- Enter SEBASTIAN
-
- SEBASTIAN. I am sorry, madam, I have hurt your kinsman;
- But, had it been the brother of my blood,
- I must have done no less with wit and safety.
- You throw a strange regard upon me, and by that
- I do perceive it hath offended you.
- Pardon me, sweet one, even for the vows
- We made each other but so late ago.
- DUKE. One face, one voice, one habit, and two persons!
- A natural perspective, that is and is not.
- SEBASTIAN. Antonio, O my dear Antonio!
- How have the hours rack'd and tortur'd me
- Since I have lost thee!
- ANTONIO. Sebastian are you?
- SEBASTIAN. Fear'st thou that, Antonio?
- ANTONIO. How have you made division of yourself?
- An apple cleft in two is not more twin
- Than these two creatures. Which is Sebastian?
- OLIVIA. Most wonderful!
- SEBASTIAN. Do I stand there? I never had a brother;
- Nor can there be that deity in my nature
- Of here and everywhere. I had a sister
- Whom the blind waves and surges have devour'd.
- Of charity, what kin are you to me?
- What countryman, what name, what parentage?
- VIOLA. Of Messaline; Sebastian was my father.
- Such a Sebastian was my brother too;
- So went he suited to his watery tomb;
- If spirits can assume both form and suit,
- You come to fright us.
- SEBASTIAN. A spirit I am indeed,
- But am in that dimension grossly clad
- Which from the womb I did participate.
- Were you a woman, as the rest goes even,
- I should my tears let fall upon your cheek,
- And say 'Thrice welcome, drowned Viola!'
- VIOLA. My father had a mole upon his brow.
- SEBASTIAN. And so had mine.
- VIOLA. And died that day when Viola from her birth
- Had numb'red thirteen years.
- SEBASTIAN. O, that record is lively in my soul!
- He finished indeed his mortal act
- That day that made my sister thirteen years.
- VIOLA. If nothing lets to make us happy both
- But this my masculine usurp'd attire,
- Do not embrace me till each circumstance
- Of place, time, fortune, do cohere and jump
- That I am Viola; which to confirm,
- I'll bring you to a captain in this town,
- Where lie my maiden weeds; by whose gentle help
- I was preserv'd to serve this noble Count.
- All the occurrence of my fortune since
- Hath been between this lady and this lord.
- SEBASTIAN. [To OLIVIA] So Comes it, lady, you have been mistook;
- But nature to her bias drew in that.
- You would have been contracted to a maid;
- Nor are you therein, by my life, deceiv'd;
- You are betroth'd both to a maid and man.
- DUKE. Be not amaz'd; right noble is his blood.
- If this be so, as yet the glass seems true,
- I shall have share in this most happy wreck.
- [To VIOLA] Boy, thou hast said to me a thousand times
- Thou never shouldst love woman like to me.
- VIOLA. And all those sayings will I overswear;
- And all those swearings keep as true in soul
- As doth that orbed continent the fire
- That severs day from night.
- DUKE. Give me thy hand;
- And let me see thee in thy woman's weeds.
- VIOLA. The captain that did bring me first on shore
- Hath my maid's garments. He, upon some action,
- Is now in durance, at Malvolio's suit,
- A gentleman and follower of my lady's.
- OLIVIA. He shall enlarge him. Fetch Malvolio hither;
- And yet, alas, now I remember me,
- They say, poor gentleman, he's much distract.
-
- Re-enter CLOWN, with a letter, and FABIAN
-
- A most extracting frenzy of mine own
- From my remembrance clearly banish'd his.
- How does he, sirrah?
- CLOWN. Truly, madam, he holds Belzebub at the stave's end as well
- as a man in his case may do. Has here writ a letter to you; I
- should have given 't you to-day morning, but as a madman's
- epistles are no gospels, so it skills not much when they are
- deliver'd.
- OLIVIA. Open't, and read it.
- CLOWN. Look then to be well edified when the fool delivers the
- madman. [Reads madly ] 'By the Lord, madam-'
- OLIVIA. How now! Art thou mad?
- CLOWN. No, madam, I do but read madness. An your ladyship will have
- it as it ought to be, you must allow vox.
- OLIVIA. Prithee read i' thy right wits.
- CLOWN. So I do, madonna; but to read his right wits is to read
- thus; therefore perpend, my Princess, and give ear.
- OLIVIA. [To FABIAN] Read it you, sirrah.
- FABIAN. [Reads] 'By the Lord, madam, you wrong me, and the world
- shall know it. Though you have put me into darkness and given
- your drunken cousin rule over me, yet have I the benefit of my
- senses as well as your ladyship. I have your own letter that
- induced me to the semblance I put on, with the which I doubt not
- but to do myself much right or you much shame. Think of me as you
- please. I leave my duty a little unthought of, and speak out of
- my injury.
- THE MADLY-US'D MALVOLIO'
-
- OLIVIA. Did he write this?
- CLOWN. Ay, Madam.
- DUKE. This savours not much of distraction.
- OLIVIA. See him deliver'd, Fabian; bring him hither.
- Exit FABIAN
- My lord, so please you, these things further thought on,
- To think me as well a sister as a wife,
- One day shall crown th' alliance on't, so please you,
- Here at my house, and at my proper cost.
- DUKE. Madam, I am most apt t' embrace your offer.
- [To VIOLA] Your master quits you; and, for your service done
- him,
- So much against the mettle of your sex,
- So far beneath your soft and tender breeding,
- And since you call'd me master for so long,
- Here is my hand; you shall from this time be
- You master's mistress.
- OLIVIA. A sister! You are she.
-
- Re-enter FABIAN, with MALVOLIO
-
- DUKE. Is this the madman?
- OLIVIA. Ay, my lord, this same.
- How now, Malvolio!
- MALVOLIO. Madam, you have done me wrong,
- Notorious wrong.
- OLIVIA. Have I, Malvolio? No.
- MALVOLIO. Lady, you have. Pray you peruse that letter.
- You must not now deny it is your hand;
- Write from it if you can, in hand or phrase;
- Or say 'tis not your seal, not your invention;
- You can say none of this. Well, grant it then,
- And tell me, in the modesty of honour,
- Why you have given me such clear lights of favour,
- Bade me come smiling and cross-garter'd to you,
- To put on yellow stockings, and to frown
- Upon Sir Toby and the lighter people;
- And, acting this in an obedient hope,
- Why have you suffer'd me to be imprison'd,
- Kept in a dark house, visited by the priest,
- And made the most notorious geck and gul
- That e'er invention play'd on? Tell me why.
- OLIVIA. Alas, Malvolio, this is not my writing,
- Though, I confess, much like the character;
- But out of question 'tis Maria's hand.
- And now I do bethink me, it was she
- First told me thou wast mad; then cam'st in smiling,
- And in such forms which here were presuppos'd
- Upon thee in the letter. Prithee, be content;
- This practice hath most shrewdly pass'd upon thee,
- But, when we know the grounds and authors of it,
- Thou shalt be both the plaintiff and the judge
- Of thine own cause.
- FABIAN. Good madam, hear me speak,
- And let no quarrel nor no brawl to come
- Taint the condition of this present hour,
- Which I have wond'red at. In hope it shall not,
- Most freely I confess myself and Toby
- Set this device against Malvolio here,
- Upon some stubborn and uncourteous parts
- We had conceiv'd against him. Maria writ
- The letter, at Sir Toby's great importance,
- In recompense whereof he hath married her.
- How with a sportful malice it was follow'd
- May rather pluck on laughter than revenge,
- If that the injuries be justly weigh'd
- That have on both sides pass'd.
- OLIVIA. Alas, poor fool, how have they baffl'd thee!
- CLOWN. Why, 'Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some
- have greatness thrown upon them.' I was one, sir, in this
- interlude- one Sir Topas, sir; but that's all one. 'By the Lord,
- fool, I am not mad!' But do you remember- 'Madam, why laugh you
- at such a barren rascal? An you smile not, he's gagg'd'? And thus
- the whirligig of time brings in his revenges.
- MALVOLIO. I'll be reveng'd on the whole pack of you.
- Exit
- OLIVIA. He hath been most notoriously abus'd.
- DUKE. Pursue him, and entreat him to a peace;
- He hath not told us of the captain yet.
- When that is known, and golden time convents,
- A solemn combination shall be made
- Of our dear souls. Meantime, sweet sister,
- We will not part from hence. Cesario, come;
- For so you shall be while you are a man;
- But when in other habits you are seen,
- Orsino's mistress, and his fancy's queen.
- Exeunt all but the CLOWN
-
- CLOWN sings
-
- When that I was and a little tiny boy,
- With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
- A foolish thing was but a toy,
- For the rain it raineth every day.
-
- But when I came to man's estate,
- With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
- 'Gainst knaves and thieves men shut their gate,
- For the rain it raineth every day.
-
- But when I came, alas! to wive,
- With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
- By swaggering could I never thrive,
- For the rain it raineth every day.
-
- But when I came unto my beds,
- With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
- With toss-pots still had drunken heads,
- For the rain it raineth every day.
-
- A great while ago the world begun,
- With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
- But that's all one, our play is done,
- And we'll strive to please you every day.
- Exit
-
-THE END
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-1595
-
-THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA
-
-by William Shakespeare
-
-
-
-DRAMATIS PERSONAE
-
- DUKE OF MILAN, father to Silvia
- VALENTINE, one of the two gentlemen
- PROTEUS, " " " " "
- ANTONIO, father to Proteus
- THURIO, a foolish rival to Valentine
- EGLAMOUR, agent for Silvia in her escape
- SPEED, a clownish servant to Valentine
- LAUNCE, the like to Proteus
- PANTHINO, servant to Antonio
- HOST, where Julia lodges in Milan
- OUTLAWS, with Valentine
-
- JULIA, a lady of Verona, beloved of Proteus
- SILVIA, the Duke's daughter, beloved of Valentine
- LUCETTA, waiting-woman to Julia
-
- SERVANTS
- MUSICIANS
-
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-SCENE:
-Verona; Milan; the frontiers of Mantua
-
-
-ACT I. SCENE I.
-Verona. An open place
-
-Enter VALENTINE and PROTEUS
-
- VALENTINE. Cease to persuade, my loving Proteus:
- Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits.
- Were't not affection chains thy tender days
- To the sweet glances of thy honour'd love,
- I rather would entreat thy company
- To see the wonders of the world abroad,
- Than, living dully sluggardiz'd at home,
- Wear out thy youth with shapeless idleness.
- But since thou lov'st, love still, and thrive therein,
- Even as I would, when I to love begin.
- PROTEUS. Wilt thou be gone? Sweet Valentine, adieu!
- Think on thy Proteus, when thou haply seest
- Some rare noteworthy object in thy travel.
- Wish me partaker in thy happiness
- When thou dost meet good hap; and in thy danger,
- If ever danger do environ thee,
- Commend thy grievance to my holy prayers,
- For I will be thy headsman, Valentine.
- VALENTINE. And on a love-book pray for my success?
- PROTEUS. Upon some book I love I'll pray for thee.
- VALENTINE. That's on some shallow story of deep love:
- How young Leander cross'd the Hellespont.
- PROTEUS. That's a deep story of a deeper love;
- For he was more than over shoes in love.
- VALENTINE. 'Tis true; for you are over boots in love,
- And yet you never swum the Hellespont.
- PROTEUS. Over the boots! Nay, give me not the boots.
- VALENTINE. No, I will not, for it boots thee not.
- PROTEUS. What?
- VALENTINE. To be in love- where scorn is bought with groans,
- Coy looks with heart-sore sighs, one fading moment's mirth
- With twenty watchful, weary, tedious nights;
- If haply won, perhaps a hapless gain;
- If lost, why then a grievous labour won;
- However, but a folly bought with wit,
- Or else a wit by folly vanquished.
- PROTEUS. So, by your circumstance, you call me fool.
- VALENTINE. So, by your circumstance, I fear you'll prove.
- PROTEUS. 'Tis love you cavil at; I am not Love.
- VALENTINE. Love is your master, for he masters you;
- And he that is so yoked by a fool,
- Methinks, should not be chronicled for wise.
- PROTEUS. Yet writers say, as in the sweetest bud
- The eating canker dwells, so eating love
- Inhabits in the finest wits of all.
- VALENTINE. And writers say, as the most forward bud
- Is eaten by the canker ere it blow,
- Even so by love the young and tender wit
- Is turn'd to folly, blasting in the bud,
- Losing his verdure even in the prime,
- And all the fair effects of future hopes.
- But wherefore waste I time to counsel the
- That art a votary to fond desire?
- Once more adieu. My father at the road
- Expects my coming, there to see me shipp'd.
- PROTEUS. And thither will I bring thee, Valentine.
- VALENTINE. Sweet Proteus, no; now let us take our leave.
- To Milan let me hear from thee by letters
- Of thy success in love, and what news else
- Betideth here in absence of thy friend;
- And I likewise will visit thee with mine.
- PROTEUS. All happiness bechance to thee in Milan!
- VALENTINE. As much to you at home; and so farewell!
- Exit VALENTINE
- PROTEUS. He after honour hunts, I after love;
- He leaves his friends to dignify them more:
- I leave myself, my friends, and all for love.
- Thou, Julia, thou hast metamorphis'd me,
- Made me neglect my studies, lose my time,
- War with good counsel, set the world at nought;
- Made wit with musing weak, heart sick with thought.
-
- Enter SPEED
-
- SPEED. Sir Proteus, save you! Saw you my master?
- PROTEUS. But now he parted hence to embark for Milan.
- SPEED. Twenty to one then he is shipp'd already,
- And I have play'd the sheep in losing him.
- PROTEUS. Indeed a sheep doth very often stray,
- An if the shepherd be awhile away.
- SPEED. You conclude that my master is a shepherd then, and
- I a sheep?
- PROTEUS. I do.
- SPEED. Why then, my horns are his horns, whether I wake or sleep.
- PROTEUS. A silly answer, and fitting well a sheep.
- SPEED. This proves me still a sheep.
- PROTEUS. True; and thy master a shepherd.
- SPEED. Nay, that I can deny by a circumstance.
- PROTEUS. It shall go hard but I'll prove it by another.
- SPEED. The shepherd seeks the sheep, and not the sheep the
- shepherd; but I seek my master, and my master seeks not me;
- therefore, I am no sheep.
- PROTEUS. The sheep for fodder follow the shepherd; the shepherd for
- food follows not the sheep: thou for wages followest thy master;
- thy master for wages follows not thee. Therefore, thou art a
- sheep.
- SPEED. Such another proof will make me cry 'baa.'
- PROTEUS. But dost thou hear? Gav'st thou my letter to Julia?
- SPEED. Ay, sir; I, a lost mutton, gave your letter to her, a lac'd
- mutton; and she, a lac'd mutton, gave me, a lost mutton, nothing
- for my labour.
- PROTEUS. Here's too small a pasture for such store of muttons.
- SPEED. If the ground be overcharg'd, you were best stick her.
- PROTEUS. Nay, in that you are astray: 'twere best pound you.
- SPEED. Nay, sir, less than a pound shall serve me for carrying your
- letter.
- PROTEUS. You mistake; I mean the pound- a pinfold.
- SPEED. From a pound to a pin? Fold it over and over,
- 'Tis threefold too little for carrying a letter to your lover.
- PROTEUS. But what said she?
- SPEED. [Nodding] Ay.
- PROTEUS. Nod- ay. Why, that's 'noddy.'
- SPEED. You mistook, sir; I say she did nod; and you ask me if she
- did nod; and I say 'Ay.'
- PROTEUS. And that set together is 'noddy.'
- SPEED. Now you have taken the pains to set it together, take it for
- your pains.
- PROTEUS. No, no; you shall have it for bearing the letter.
- SPEED. Well, I perceive I must be fain to bear with you.
- PROTEUS. Why, sir, how do you bear with me?
- SPEED. Marry, sir, the letter, very orderly; having nothing but the
- word 'noddy' for my pains.
- PROTEUS. Beshrew me, but you have a quick wit.
- SPEED. And yet it cannot overtake your slow purse.
- PROTEUS. Come, come, open the matter; in brief, what said she?
- SPEED. Open your purse, that the money and the matter may be both
- at once delivered.
- PROTEUS. Well, sir, here is for your pains. What said she?
- SPEED. Truly, sir, I think you'll hardly win her.
- PROTEUS. Why, couldst thou perceive so much from her?
- SPEED. Sir, I could perceive nothing at all from her; no, not so
- much as a ducat for delivering your letter; and being so hard to
- me that brought your mind, I fear she'll prove as hard to you in
- telling your mind. Give her no token but stones, for she's as
- hard as steel.
- PROTEUS. What said she? Nothing?
- SPEED. No, not so much as 'Take this for thy pains.' To testify
- your bounty, I thank you, you have testern'd me; in requital
- whereof, henceforth carry your letters yourself; and so, sir,
- I'll commend you to my master.
- PROTEUS. Go, go, be gone, to save your ship from wreck,
- Which cannot perish, having thee aboard,
- Being destin'd to a drier death on shore. Exit SPEED
- I must go send some better messenger.
- I fear my Julia would not deign my lines,
- Receiving them from such a worthless post. Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-Verona. The garden Of JULIA'S house
-
-Enter JULIA and LUCETTA
-
- JULIA. But say, Lucetta, now we are alone,
- Wouldst thou then counsel me to fall in love?
- LUCETTA. Ay, madam; so you stumble not unheedfully.
- JULIA. Of all the fair resort of gentlemen
- That every day with parle encounter me,
- In thy opinion which is worthiest love?
- LUCETTA. Please you, repeat their names; I'll show my mind
- According to my shallow simple skill.
- JULIA. What think'st thou of the fair Sir Eglamour?
- LUCETTA. As of a knight well-spoken, neat, and fine;
- But, were I you, he never should be mine.
- JULIA. What think'st thou of the rich Mercatio?
- LUCETTA. Well of his wealth; but of himself, so so.
- JULIA. What think'st thou of the gentle Proteus?
- LUCETTA. Lord, Lord! to see what folly reigns in us!
- JULIA. How now! what means this passion at his name?
- LUCETTA. Pardon, dear madam; 'tis a passing shame
- That I, unworthy body as I am,
- Should censure thus on lovely gentlemen.
- JULIA. Why not on Proteus, as of all the rest?
- LUCETTA. Then thus: of many good I think him best.
- JULIA. Your reason?
- LUCETTA. I have no other but a woman's reason:
- I think him so, because I think him so.
- JULIA. And wouldst thou have me cast my love on him?
- LUCETTA. Ay, if you thought your love not cast away.
- JULIA. Why, he, of all the rest, hath never mov'd me.
- LUCETTA. Yet he, of all the rest, I think, best loves ye.
- JULIA. His little speaking shows his love but small.
- LUCETTA. Fire that's closest kept burns most of all.
- JULIA. They do not love that do not show their love.
- LUCETTA. O, they love least that let men know their love.
- JULIA. I would I knew his mind.
- LUCETTA. Peruse this paper, madam.
- JULIA. 'To Julia'- Say, from whom?
- LUCETTA. That the contents will show.
- JULIA. Say, say, who gave it thee?
- LUCETTA. Sir Valentine's page; and sent, I think, from Proteus.
- He would have given it you; but I, being in the way,
- Did in your name receive it; pardon the fault, I pray.
- JULIA. Now, by my modesty, a goodly broker!
- Dare you presume to harbour wanton lines?
- To whisper and conspire against my youth?
- Now, trust me, 'tis an office of great worth,
- And you an officer fit for the place.
- There, take the paper; see it be return'd;
- Or else return no more into my sight.
- LUCETTA. To plead for love deserves more fee than hate.
- JULIA. Will ye be gone?
- LUCETTA. That you may ruminate. Exit
- JULIA. And yet, I would I had o'erlook'd the letter.
- It were a shame to call her back again,
- And pray her to a fault for which I chid her.
- What fool is she, that knows I am a maid
- And would not force the letter to my view!
- Since maids, in modesty, say 'No' to that
- Which they would have the profferer construe 'Ay.'
- Fie, fie, how wayward is this foolish love,
- That like a testy babe will scratch the nurse,
- And presently, all humbled, kiss the rod!
- How churlishly I chid Lucetta hence,
- When willingly I would have had her here!
- How angerly I taught my brow to frown,
- When inward joy enforc'd my heart to smile!
- My penance is to call Lucetta back
- And ask remission for my folly past.
- What ho! Lucetta!
-
- Re-enter LUCETTA
-
- LUCETTA. What would your ladyship?
- JULIA. Is't near dinner time?
- LUCETTA. I would it were,
- That you might kill your stomach on your meat
- And not upon your maid.
- JULIA. What is't that you took up so gingerly?
- LUCETTA. Nothing.
- JULIA. Why didst thou stoop then?
- LUCETTA. To take a paper up that I let fall.
- JULIA. And is that paper nothing?
- LUCETTA. Nothing concerning me.
- JULIA. Then let it lie for those that it concerns.
- LUCETTA. Madam, it will not lie where it concerns,
- Unless it have a false interpreter.
- JULIA. Some love of yours hath writ to you in rhyme.
- LUCETTA. That I might sing it, madam, to a tune.
- Give me a note; your ladyship can set.
- JULIA. As little by such toys as may be possible.
- Best sing it to the tune of 'Light o' Love.'
- LUCETTA. It is too heavy for so light a tune.
- JULIA. Heavy! belike it hath some burden then.
- LUCETTA. Ay; and melodious were it, would you sing it.
- JULIA. And why not you?
- LUCETTA. I cannot reach so high.
- JULIA. Let's see your song. [LUCETTA withholds the letter]
- How now, minion!
- LUCETTA. Keep tune there still, so you will sing it out.
- And yet methinks I do not like this tune.
- JULIA. You do not!
- LUCETTA. No, madam; 'tis too sharp.
- JULIA. You, minion, are too saucy.
- LUCETTA. Nay, now you are too flat
- And mar the concord with too harsh a descant;
- There wanteth but a mean to fill your song.
- JULIA. The mean is drown'd with your unruly bass.
- LUCETTA. Indeed, I bid the base for Proteus.
- JULIA. This babble shall not henceforth trouble me.
- Here is a coil with protestation! [Tears the letter]
- Go, get you gone; and let the papers lie.
- You would be fing'ring them, to anger me.
- LUCETTA. She makes it strange; but she would be best pleas'd
- To be so ang'red with another letter. Exit
- JULIA. Nay, would I were so ang'red with the same!
- O hateful hands, to tear such loving words!
- Injurious wasps, to feed on such sweet honey
- And kill the bees that yield it with your stings!
- I'll kiss each several paper for amends.
- Look, here is writ 'kind Julia.' Unkind Julia,
- As in revenge of thy ingratitude,
- I throw thy name against the bruising stones,
- Trampling contemptuously on thy disdain.
- And here is writ 'love-wounded Proteus.'
- Poor wounded name! my bosom,,as a bed,
- Shall lodge thee till thy wound be throughly heal'd;
- And thus I search it with a sovereign kiss.
- But twice or thrice was 'Proteus' written down.
- Be calm, good wind, blow not a word away
- Till I have found each letter in the letter-
- Except mine own name; that some whirlwind bear
- Unto a ragged, fearful, hanging rock,
- And throw it thence into the raging sea.
- Lo, here in one line is his name twice writ:
- 'Poor forlorn Proteus, passionate Proteus,
- To the sweet Julia.' That I'll tear away;
- And yet I will not, sith so prettily
- He couples it to his complaining names.
- Thus will I fold them one upon another;
- Now kiss, embrace, contend, do what you will.
-
- Re-enter LUCETTA
-
- LUCETTA. Madam,
- Dinner is ready, and your father stays.
- JULIA. Well, let us go.
- LUCETTA. What, shall these papers lie like tell-tales here?
- JULIA. If you respect them, best to take them up.
- LUCETTA. Nay, I was taken up for laying them down;
- Yet here they shall not lie for catching cold.
- JULIA. I see you have a month's mind to them.
- LUCETTA. Ay, madam, you may say what sights you see;
- I see things too, although you judge I wink.
- JULIA. Come, come; will't please you go? Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-Verona. ANTONIO'S house
-
-Enter ANTONIO and PANTHINO
-
- ANTONIO. Tell me, Panthino, what sad talk was that
- Wherewith my brother held you in the cloister?
- PANTHINO. 'Twas of his nephew Proteus, your son.
- ANTONIO. Why, what of him?
- PANTHINO. He wond'red that your lordship
- Would suffer him to spend his youth at home,
- While other men, of slender reputation,
- Put forth their sons to seek preferment out:
- Some to the wars, to try their fortune there;
- Some to discover islands far away;
- Some to the studious universities.
- For any, or for all these exercises,
- He said that Proteus, your son, was meet;
- And did request me to importune you
- To let him spend his time no more at home,
- Which would be great impeachment to his age,
- In having known no travel in his youth.
- ANTONIO. Nor need'st thou much importune me to that
- Whereon this month I have been hammering.
- I have consider'd well his loss of time,
- And how he cannot be a perfect man,
- Not being tried and tutor'd in the world:
- Experience is by industry achiev'd,
- And perfected by the swift course of time.
- Then tell me whither were I best to send him.
- PANTHINO. I think your lordship is not ignorant
- How his companion, youthful Valentine,
- Attends the Emperor in his royal court.
- ANTONIO. I know it well.
- PANTHINO. 'Twere good, I think, your lordship sent him thither:
- There shall he practise tilts and tournaments,
- Hear sweet discourse, converse with noblemen,
- And be in eye of every exercise
- Worthy his youth and nobleness of birth.
- ANTONIO. I like thy counsel; well hast thou advis'd;
- And that thou mayst perceive how well I like it,
- The execution of it shall make known:
- Even with the speediest expedition
- I will dispatch him to the Emperor's court.
- PANTHINO. To-morrow, may it please you, Don Alphonso
- With other gentlemen of good esteem
- Are journeying to salute the Emperor,
- And to commend their service to his will.
- ANTONIO. Good company; with them shall Proteus go.
-
- Enter PROTEUS
-
- And- in good time!- now will we break with him.
- PROTEUS. Sweet love! sweet lines! sweet life!
- Here is her hand, the agent of her heart;
- Here is her oath for love, her honour's pawn.
- O that our fathers would applaud our loves,
- To seal our happiness with their consents!
- O heavenly Julia!
- ANTONIO. How now! What letter are you reading there?
- PROTEUS. May't please your lordship, 'tis a word or two
- Of commendations sent from Valentine,
- Deliver'd by a friend that came from him.
- ANTONIO. Lend me the letter; let me see what news.
- PROTEUS. There is no news, my lord; but that he writes
- How happily he lives, how well-belov'd
- And daily graced by the Emperor;
- Wishing me with him, partner of his fortune.
- ANTONIO. And how stand you affected to his wish?
- PROTEUS. As one relying on your lordship's will,
- And not depending on his friendly wish.
- ANTONIO. My will is something sorted with his wish.
- Muse not that I thus suddenly proceed;
- For what I will, I will, and there an end.
- I am resolv'd that thou shalt spend some time
- With Valentinus in the Emperor's court;
- What maintenance he from his friends receives,
- Like exhibition thou shalt have from me.
- To-morrow be in readiness to go-
- Excuse it not, for I am peremptory.
- PROTEUS. My lord, I cannot be so soon provided;
- Please you, deliberate a day or two.
- ANTONIO. Look what thou want'st shall be sent after thee.
- No more of stay; to-morrow thou must go.
- Come on, Panthino; you shall be employ'd
- To hasten on his expedition.
- Exeunt ANTONIO and PANTHINO
- PROTEUS. Thus have I shunn'd the fire for fear of burning,
- And drench'd me in the sea, where I am drown'd.
- I fear'd to show my father Julia's letter,
- Lest he should take exceptions to my love;
- And with the vantage of mine own excuse
- Hath he excepted most against my love.
- O, how this spring of love resembleth
- The uncertain glory of an April day,
- Which now shows all the beauty of the sun,
- And by an by a cloud takes all away!
-
- Re-enter PANTHINO
-
- PANTHINO. Sir Proteus, your father calls for you;
- He is in haste; therefore, I pray you, go.
- PROTEUS. Why, this it is: my heart accords thereto;
- And yet a thousand times it answers 'No.' Exeunt
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT II. SCENE I.
-Milan. The DUKE'S palace
-
-Enter VALENTINE and SPEED
-
- SPEED. Sir, your glove.
- VALENTINE. Not mine: my gloves are on.
- SPEED. Why, then, this may be yours; for this is but one.
- VALENTINE. Ha! let me see; ay, give it me, it's mine;
- Sweet ornament that decks a thing divine!
- Ah, Silvia! Silvia!
- SPEED. [Calling] Madam Silvia! Madam Silvia!
- VALENTINE. How now, sirrah?
- SPEED. She is not within hearing, sir.
- VALENTINE. Why, sir, who bade you call her?
- SPEED. Your worship, sir; or else I mistook.
- VALENTINE. Well, you'll still be too forward.
- SPEED. And yet I was last chidden for being too slow.
- VALENTINE. Go to, sir; tell me, do you know Madam Silvia?
- SPEED. She that your worship loves?
- VALENTINE. Why, how know you that I am in love?
- SPEED. Marry, by these special marks: first, you have learn'd, like
- Sir Proteus, to wreath your arms like a malcontent; to relish a
- love-song, like a robin redbreast; to walk alone, like one that
- had the pestilence; to sigh, like a school-boy that had lost his
- A B C; to weep, like a young wench that had buried her grandam;
- to fast, like one that takes diet; to watch, like one that fears
- robbing; to speak puling, like a beggar at Hallowmas. You were
- wont, when you laughed, to crow like a cock; when you walk'd, to
- walk like one of the lions; when you fasted, it was presently
- after dinner; when you look'd sadly, it was for want of money.
- And now you are metamorphis'd with a mistress, that, when I look
- on you, I can hardly think you my master.
- VALENTINE. Are all these things perceiv'd in me?
- SPEED. They are all perceiv'd without ye.
- VALENTINE. Without me? They cannot.
- SPEED. Without you! Nay, that's certain; for, without you were so
- simple, none else would; but you are so without these follies
- that these follies are within you, and shine through you like the
- water in an urinal, that not an eye that sees you but is a
- physician to comment on your malady.
- VALENTINE. But tell me, dost thou know my lady Silvia?
- SPEED. She that you gaze on so, as she sits at supper?
- VALENTINE. Hast thou observ'd that? Even she, I mean.
- SPEED. Why, sir, I know her not.
- VALENTINE. Dost thou know her by my gazing on her, and yet know'st
- her not?
- SPEED. Is she not hard-favour'd, sir?
- VALENTINE. Not so fair, boy, as well-favour'd.
- SPEED. Sir, I know that well enough.
- VALENTINE. What dost thou know?
- SPEED. That she is not so fair as, of you, well-favour'd.
- VALENTINE. I mean that her beauty is exquisite, but her favour
- infinite.
- SPEED. That's because the one is painted, and the other out of all
- count.
- VALENTINE. How painted? and how out of count?
- SPEED. Marry, sir, so painted, to make her fair, that no man counts
- of her beauty.
- VALENTINE. How esteem'st thou me? I account of her beauty.
- SPEED. You never saw her since she was deform'd.
- VALENTINE. How long hath she been deform'd?
- SPEED. Ever since you lov'd her.
- VALENTINE. I have lov'd her ever since I saw her, and still
- I see her beautiful.
- SPEED. If you love her, you cannot see her.
- VALENTINE. Why?
- SPEED. Because Love is blind. O that you had mine eyes; or your own
- eyes had the lights they were wont to have when you chid at Sir
- Proteus for going ungarter'd!
- VALENTINE. What should I see then?
- SPEED. Your own present folly and her passing deformity; for he,
- being in love, could not see to garter his hose; and you, being
- in love, cannot see to put on your hose.
- VALENTINE. Belike, boy, then you are in love; for last morning you
- could not see to wipe my shoes.
- SPEED. True, sir; I was in love with my bed. I thank you, you
- swing'd me for my love, which makes me the bolder to chide you
- for yours.
- VALENTINE. In conclusion, I stand affected to her.
- SPEED. I would you were set, so your affection would cease.
- VALENTINE. Last night she enjoin'd me to write some lines to one
- she loves.
- SPEED. And have you?
- VALENTINE. I have.
- SPEED. Are they not lamely writ?
- VALENTINE. No, boy, but as well as I can do them.
-
- Enter SILVIA
-
- Peace! here she comes.
- SPEED. [Aside] O excellent motion! O exceeding puppet!
- Now will he interpret to her.
- VALENTINE. Madam and mistress, a thousand good morrows.
- SPEED. [Aside] O, give ye good ev'n!
- Here's a million of manners.
- SILVIA. Sir Valentine and servant, to you two thousand.
- SPEED. [Aside] He should give her interest, and she gives it him.
- VALENTINE. As you enjoin'd me, I have writ your letter
- Unto the secret nameless friend of yours;
- Which I was much unwilling to proceed in,
- But for my duty to your ladyship.
- SILVIA. I thank you, gentle servant. 'Tis very clerkly done.
- VALENTINE. Now trust me, madam, it came hardly off;
- For, being ignorant to whom it goes,
- I writ at random, very doubtfully.
- SILVIA. Perchance you think too much of so much pains?
- VALENTINE. No, madam; so it stead you, I will write,
- Please you command, a thousand times as much;
- And yet-
- SILVIA. A pretty period! Well, I guess the sequel;
- And yet I will not name it- and yet I care not.
- And yet take this again- and yet I thank you-
- Meaning henceforth to trouble you no more.
- SPEED. [Aside] And yet you will; and yet another' yet.'
- VALENTINE. What means your ladyship? Do you not like it?
- SILVIA. Yes, yes; the lines are very quaintly writ;
- But, since unwillingly, take them again.
- Nay, take them. [Gives hack the letter]
- VALENTINE. Madam, they are for you.
- SILVIA. Ay, ay, you writ them, sir, at my request;
- But I will none of them; they are for you:
- I would have had them writ more movingly.
- VALENTINE. Please you, I'll write your ladyship another.
- SILVIA. And when it's writ, for my sake read it over;
- And if it please you, so; if not, why, so.
- VALENTINE. If it please me, madam, what then?
- SILVIA. Why, if it please you, take it for your labour.
- And so good morrow, servant. Exit SILVIA
- SPEED. O jest unseen, inscrutable, invisible,
- As a nose on a man's face, or a weathercock on a steeple!
- My master sues to her; and she hath taught her suitor,
- He being her pupil, to become her tutor.
- O excellent device! Was there ever heard a better,
- That my master, being scribe, to himself should write the letter?
- VALENTINE. How now, sir! What are you reasoning with yourself?
- SPEED. Nay, I was rhyming: 'tis you that have the reason.
- VALENTINE. To do what?
- SPEED. To be a spokesman from Madam Silvia?
- VALENTINE. To whom?
- SPEED. To yourself; why, she woos you by a figure.
- VALENTINE. What figure?
- SPEED. By a letter, I should say.
- VALENTINE. Why, she hath not writ to me.
- SPEED. What need she, when she hath made you write to yourself?
- Why, do you not perceive the jest?
- VALENTINE. No, believe me.
- SPEED. No believing you indeed, sir. But did you perceive her
- earnest?
- VALENTINE. She gave me none except an angry word.
- SPEED. Why, she hath given you a letter.
- VALENTINE. That's the letter I writ to her friend.
- SPEED. And that letter hath she deliver'd, and there an end.
- VALENTINE. I would it were no worse.
- SPEED. I'll warrant you 'tis as well.
- 'For often have you writ to her; and she, in modesty,
- Or else for want of idle time, could not again reply;
- Or fearing else some messenger that might her mind discover,
- Herself hath taught her love himself to write unto her lover.'
- All this I speak in print, for in print I found it. Why muse you,
- sir? 'Tis dinner time.
- VALENTINE. I have din'd.
- SPEED. Ay, but hearken, sir; though the chameleon Love can feed on
- the air, I am one that am nourish'd by my victuals, and would
- fain have meat. O, be not like your mistress! Be moved, be moved.
- Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-Verona. JULIA'S house
-
-Enter PROTEUS and JULIA
-
- PROTEUS. Have patience, gentle Julia.
- JULIA. I must, where is no remedy.
- PROTEUS. When possibly I can, I will return.
- JULIA. If you turn not, you will return the sooner.
- Keep this remembrance for thy Julia's sake.
- [Giving a ring]
- PROTEUS. Why, then, we'll make exchange. Here, take you this.
- JULIA. And seal the bargain with a holy kiss.
- PROTEUS. Here is my hand for my true constancy;
- And when that hour o'erslips me in the day
- Wherein I sigh not, Julia, for thy sake,
- The next ensuing hour some foul mischance
- Torment me for my love's forgetfulness!
- My father stays my coming; answer not;
- The tide is now- nay, not thy tide of tears:
- That tide will stay me longer than I should.
- Julia, farewell! Exit JULIA
- What, gone without a word?
- Ay, so true love should do: it cannot speak;
- For truth hath better deeds than words to grace it.
-
- Enter PANTHINO
-
- PANTHINO. Sir Proteus, you are stay'd for.
- PROTEUS. Go; I come, I come.
- Alas! this parting strikes poor lovers dumb. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-Verona. A street
-
-Enter LAUNCE, leading a dog
-
- LAUNCE. Nay, 'twill be this hour ere I have done weeping; all the
- kind of the Launces have this very fault. I have receiv'd my
- proportion, like the Prodigious Son, and am going with Sir
- Proteus to the Imperial's court. I think Crab my dog be the
- sourest-natured dog that lives: my mother weeping, my father
- wailing, my sister crying, our maid howling, our cat wringing her
- hands, and all our house in a great perplexity; yet did not this
- cruel-hearted cur shed one tear. He is a stone, a very pebble
- stone, and has no more pity in him than a dog. A Jew would have
- wept to have seen our parting; why, my grandam having no eyes,
- look you, wept herself blind at my parting. Nay, I'll show you
- the manner of it. This shoe is my father; no, this left shoe is
- my father; no, no, left shoe is my mother; nay, that cannot be so
- neither; yes, it is so, it is so, it hath the worser sole. This
- shoe with the hole in it is my mother, and this my father. A
- vengeance on 't! There 'tis. Now, sir, this staff is my sister,
- for, look you, she is as white as a lily and as small as a wand;
- this hat is Nan our maid; I am the dog; no, the dog is himself,
- and I am the dog- O, the dog is me, and I am myself; ay, so, so.
- Now come I to my father: 'Father, your blessing.' Now should not
- the shoe speak a word for weeping; now should I kiss my father;
- well, he weeps on. Now come I to my mother. O that she could
- speak now like a wood woman! Well, I kiss her- why there 'tis;
- here's my mother's breath up and down. Now come I to my sister;
- mark the moan she makes. Now the dog all this while sheds not a
- tear, nor speaks a word; but see how I lay the dust with my
- tears.
-
- Enter PANTHINO
-
- PANTHINO. Launce, away, away, aboard! Thy master is shipp'd, and
- thou art to post after with oars. What's the matter? Why weep'st
- thou, man? Away, ass! You'll lose the tide if you tarry any
- longer.
- LAUNCE. It is no matter if the tied were lost; for it is the
- unkindest tied that ever any man tied.
- PANTHINO. What's the unkindest tide?
- LAUNCE. Why, he that's tied here, Crab, my dog.
- PANTHINO. Tut, man, I mean thou'lt lose the flood, and, in losing
- the flood, lose thy voyage, and, in losing thy voyage, lose thy
- master, and, in losing thy master, lose thy service, and, in
- losing thy service- Why dost thou stop my mouth?
- LAUNCE. For fear thou shouldst lose thy tongue.
- PANTHINO. Where should I lose my tongue?
- LAUNCE. In thy tale.
- PANTHINO. In thy tail!
- LAUNCE. Lose the tide, and the voyage, and the master, and the
- service, and the tied! Why, man, if the river were dry, I am able
- to fill it with my tears; if the wind were down, I could drive
- the boat with my sighs.
- PANTHINO. Come, come away, man; I was sent to call thee.
- LAUNCE. Sir, call me what thou dar'st.
- PANTHINO. Will thou go?
- LAUNCE. Well, I will go. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE IV.
-Milan. The DUKE'S palace
-
-Enter SILVIA, VALENTINE, THURIO, and SPEED
-
- SILVIA. Servant!
- VALENTINE. Mistress?
- SPEED. Master, Sir Thurio frowns on you.
- VALENTINE. Ay, boy, it's for love.
- SPEED. Not of you.
- VALENTINE. Of my mistress, then.
- SPEED. 'Twere good you knock'd him. Exit
- SILVIA. Servant, you are sad.
- VALENTINE. Indeed, madam, I seem so.
- THURIO. Seem you that you are not?
- VALENTINE. Haply I do.
- THURIO. So do counterfeits.
- VALENTINE. So do you.
- THURIO. What seem I that I am not?
- VALENTINE. Wise.
- THURIO. What instance of the contrary?
- VALENTINE. Your folly.
- THURIO. And how quote you my folly?
- VALENTINE. I quote it in your jerkin.
- THURIO. My jerkin is a doublet.
- VALENTINE. Well, then, I'll double your folly.
- THURIO. How?
- SILVIA. What, angry, Sir Thurio! Do you change colour?
- VALENTINE. Give him leave, madam; he is a kind of chameleon.
- THURIO. That hath more mind to feed on your blood than live in your
- air.
- VALENTINE. You have said, sir.
- THURIO. Ay, sir, and done too, for this time.
- VALENTINE. I know it well, sir; you always end ere you begin.
- SILVIA. A fine volley of words, gentlemen, and quickly shot off.
- VALENTINE. 'Tis indeed, madam; we thank the giver.
- SILVIA. Who is that, servant?
- VALENTINE. Yourself, sweet lady; for you gave the fire. Sir Thurio
- borrows his wit from your ladyship's looks, and spends what he
- borrows kindly in your company.
- THURIO. Sir, if you spend word for word with me, I shall make your
- wit bankrupt.
- VALENTINE. I know it well, sir; you have an exchequer of words,
- and, I think, no other treasure to give your followers; for it
- appears by their bare liveries that they live by your bare words.
-
- Enter DUKE
-
- SILVIA. No more, gentlemen, no more. Here comes my father.
- DUKE. Now, daughter Silvia, you are hard beset.
- Sir Valentine, your father is in good health.
- What say you to a letter from your friends
- Of much good news?
- VALENTINE. My lord, I will be thankful
- To any happy messenger from thence.
- DUKE. Know ye Don Antonio, your countryman?
- VALENTINE. Ay, my good lord, I know the gentleman
- To be of worth and worthy estimation,
- And not without desert so well reputed.
- DUKE. Hath he not a son?
- VALENTINE. Ay, my good lord; a son that well deserves
- The honour and regard of such a father.
- DUKE. You know him well?
- VALENTINE. I knew him as myself; for from our infancy
- We have convers'd and spent our hours together;
- And though myself have been an idle truant,
- Omitting the sweet benefit of time
- To clothe mine age with angel-like perfection,
- Yet hath Sir Proteus, for that's his name,
- Made use and fair advantage of his days:
- His years but young, but his experience old;
- His head unmellowed, but his judgment ripe;
- And, in a word, for far behind his worth
- Comes all the praises that I now bestow,
- He is complete in feature and in mind,
- With all good grace to grace a gentleman.
- DUKE. Beshrew me, sir, but if he make this good,
- He is as worthy for an empress' love
- As meet to be an emperor's counsellor.
- Well, sir, this gentleman is come to me
- With commendation from great potentates,
- And here he means to spend his time awhile.
- I think 'tis no unwelcome news to you.
- VALENTINE. Should I have wish'd a thing, it had been he.
- DUKE. Welcome him, then, according to his worth-
- Silvia, I speak to you, and you, Sir Thurio;
- For Valentine, I need not cite him to it.
- I will send him hither to you presently. Exit DUKE
- VALENTINE. This is the gentleman I told your ladyship
- Had come along with me but that his mistresss
- Did hold his eyes lock'd in her crystal looks.
- SILVIA. Belike that now she hath enfranchis'd them
- Upon some other pawn for fealty.
- VALENTINE. Nay, sure, I think she holds them prisoners still.
- SILVIA. Nay, then, he should be blind; and, being blind,
- How could he see his way to seek out you?
- VALENTINE. Why, lady, Love hath twenty pair of eyes.
- THURIO. They say that Love hath not an eye at all.
- VALENTINE. To see such lovers, Thurio, as yourself;
- Upon a homely object Love can wink. Exit THURIO
-
- Enter PROTEUS
-
- SILVIA. Have done, have done; here comes the gentleman.
- VALENTINE. Welcome, dear Proteus! Mistress, I beseech you
- Confirm his welcome with some special favour.
- SILVIA. His worth is warrant for his welcome hither,
- If this be he you oft have wish'd to hear from.
- VALENTINE. Mistress, it is; sweet lady, entertain him
- To be my fellow-servant to your ladyship.
- SILVIA. Too low a mistress for so high a servant.
- PROTEUS. Not so, sweet lady; but too mean a servant
- To have a look of such a worthy mistress.
- VALENTINE. Leave off discourse of disability;
- Sweet lady, entertain him for your servant.
- PROTEUS. My duty will I boast of, nothing else.
- SILVIA. And duty never yet did want his meed.
- Servant, you are welcome to a worthless mistress.
- PROTEUS. I'll die on him that says so but yourself.
- SILVIA. That you are welcome?
- PROTEUS. That you are worthless.
-
- Re-enter THURIO
-
- THURIO. Madam, my lord your father would speak with you.
- SILVIA. I wait upon his pleasure. Come, Sir Thurio,
- Go with me. Once more, new servant, welcome.
- I'll leave you to confer of home affairs;
- When you have done we look to hear from you.
- PROTEUS. We'll both attend upon your ladyship.
- Exeunt SILVIA and THURIO
- VALENTINE. Now, tell me, how do all from whence you came?
- PROTEUS. Your friends are well, and have them much commended.
- VALENTINE. And how do yours?
- PROTEUS. I left them all in health.
- VALENTINE. How does your lady, and how thrives your love?
- PROTEUS. My tales of love were wont to weary you;
- I know you joy not in a love-discourse.
- VALENTINE. Ay, Proteus, but that life is alter'd now;
- I have done penance for contemning Love,
- Whose high imperious thoughts have punish'd me
- With bitter fasts, with penitential groans,
- With nightly tears, and daily heart-sore sighs;
- For, in revenge of my contempt of love,
- Love hath chas'd sleep from my enthralled eyes
- And made them watchers of mine own heart's sorrow.
- O gentle Proteus, Love's a mighty lord,
- And hath so humbled me as I confess
- There is no woe to his correction,
- Nor to his service no such joy on earth.
- Now no discourse, except it be of love;
- Now can I break my fast, dine, sup, and sleep,
- Upon the very naked name of love.
- PROTEUS. Enough; I read your fortune in your eye.
- Was this the idol that you worship so?
- VALENTINE. Even she; and is she not a heavenly saint?
- PROTEUS. No; but she is an earthly paragon.
- VALENTINE. Call her divine.
- PROTEUS. I will not flatter her.
- VALENTINE. O, flatter me; for love delights in praises!
- PROTEUS. When I was sick you gave me bitter pills,
- And I must minister the like to you.
- VALENTINE. Then speak the truth by her; if not divine,
- Yet let her be a principality,
- Sovereign to all the creatures on the earth.
- PROTEUS. Except my mistress.
- VALENTINE. Sweet, except not any;
- Except thou wilt except against my love.
- PROTEUS. Have I not reason to prefer mine own?
- VALENTINE. And I will help thee to prefer her too:
- She shall be dignified with this high honour-
- To bear my lady's train, lest the base earth
- Should from her vesture chance to steal a kiss
- And, of so great a favour growing proud,
- Disdain to root the summer-swelling flow'r
- And make rough winter everlastingly.
- PROTEUS. Why, Valentine, what braggardism is this?
- VALENTINE. Pardon me, Proteus; all I can is nothing
- To her, whose worth makes other worthies nothing;
- She is alone.
- PROTEUS. Then let her alone.
- VALENTINE. Not for the world! Why, man, she is mine own;
- And I as rich in having such a jewel
- As twenty seas, if all their sand were pearl,
- The water nectar, and the rocks pure gold.
- Forgive me that I do not dream on thee,
- Because thou seest me dote upon my love.
- My foolish rival, that her father likes
- Only for his possessions are so huge,
- Is gone with her along; and I must after,
- For love, thou know'st, is full of jealousy.
- PROTEUS. But she loves you?
- VALENTINE. Ay, and we are betroth'd; nay more, our marriage-hour,
- With all the cunning manner of our flight,
- Determin'd of- how I must climb her window,
- The ladder made of cords, and all the means
- Plotted and 'greed on for my happiness.
- Good Proteus, go with me to my chamber,
- In these affairs to aid me with thy counsel.
- PROTEUS. Go on before; I shall enquire you forth;
- I must unto the road to disembark
- Some necessaries that I needs must use;
- And then I'll presently attend you.
- VALENTINE. Will you make haste?
- PROTEUS. I will. Exit VALENTINE
- Even as one heat another heat expels
- Or as one nail by strength drives out another,
- So the remembrance of my former love
- Is by a newer object quite forgotten.
- Is it my mind, or Valentinus' praise,
- Her true perfection, or my false transgression,
- That makes me reasonless to reason thus?
- She is fair; and so is Julia that I love-
- That I did love, for now my love is thaw'd;
- Which like a waxen image 'gainst a fire
- Bears no impression of the thing it was.
- Methinks my zeal to Valentine is cold,
- And that I love him not as I was wont.
- O! but I love his lady too too much,
- And that's the reason I love him so little.
- How shall I dote on her with more advice
- That thus without advice begin to love her!
- 'Tis but her picture I have yet beheld,
- And that hath dazzled my reason's light;
- But when I look on her perfections,
- There is no reason but I shall be blind.
- If I can check my erring love, I will;
- If not, to compass her I'll use my skill. Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE V.
-Milan. A street
-
-Enter SPEED and LAUNCE severally
-
- SPEED. Launce! by mine honesty, welcome to Padua.
- LAUNCE. Forswear not thyself, sweet youth, for I am not welcome. I
- reckon this always, that a man is never undone till he be hang'd,
- nor never welcome to a place till some certain shot be paid, and
- the hostess say 'Welcome!'
- SPEED. Come on, you madcap; I'll to the alehouse with you
- presently; where, for one shot of five pence, thou shalt have
- five thousand welcomes. But, sirrah, how did thy master part with
- Madam Julia?
- LAUNCE. Marry, after they clos'd in earnest, they parted very
- fairly in jest.
- SPEED. But shall she marry him?
- LAUNCE. No.
- SPEED. How then? Shall he marry her?
- LAUNCE. No, neither.
- SPEED. What, are they broken?
- LAUNCE. No, they are both as whole as a fish.
- SPEED. Why then, how stands the matter with them?
- LAUNCE. Marry, thus: when it stands well with him, it stands well
- with her.
- SPEED. What an ass art thou! I understand thee not.
- LAUNCE. What a block art thou that thou canst not! My staff
- understands me.
- SPEED. What thou say'st?
- LAUNCE. Ay, and what I do too; look thee, I'll but lean, and my
- staff understands me.
- SPEED. It stands under thee, indeed.
- LAUNCE. Why, stand-under and under-stand is all one.
- SPEED. But tell me true, will't be a match?
- LAUNCE. Ask my dog. If he say ay, it will; if he say no, it will;
- if he shake his tail and say nothing, it will.
- SPEED. The conclusion is, then, that it will.
- LAUNCE. Thou shalt never get such a secret from me but by a
- parable.
- SPEED. 'Tis well that I get it so. But, Launce, how say'st thou
- that my master is become a notable lover?
- LAUNCE. I never knew him otherwise.
- SPEED. Than how?
- LAUNCE. A notable lubber, as thou reportest him to be.
- SPEED. Why, thou whoreson ass, thou mistak'st me.
- LAUNCE. Why, fool, I meant not thee, I meant thy master.
- SPEED. I tell thee my master is become a hot lover.
- LAUNCE. Why, I tell thee I care not though he burn himself in love.
- If thou wilt, go with me to the alehouse; if not, thou art an
- Hebrew, a Jew, and not worth the name of a Christian.
- SPEED. Why?
- LAUNCE. Because thou hast not so much charity in thee as to go to
- the ale with a Christian. Wilt thou go?
- SPEED. At thy service. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE VI.
-Milan. The DUKE's palace
-
-Enter PROTEUS
-
- PROTEUS. To leave my Julia, shall I be forsworn;
- To love fair Silvia, shall I be forsworn;
- To wrong my friend, I shall be much forsworn;
- And ev'n that pow'r which gave me first my oath
- Provokes me to this threefold perjury:
- Love bade me swear, and Love bids me forswear.
- O sweet-suggesting Love, if thou hast sinn'd,
- Teach me, thy tempted subject, to excuse it!
- At first I did adore a twinkling star,
- But now I worship a celestial sun.
- Unheedful vows may heedfully be broken;
- And he wants wit that wants resolved will
- To learn his wit t' exchange the bad for better.
- Fie, fie, unreverend tongue, to call her bad
- Whose sovereignty so oft thou hast preferr'd
- With twenty thousand soul-confirming oaths!
- I cannot leave to love, and yet I do;
- But there I leave to love where I should love.
- Julia I lose, and Valentine I lose;
- If I keep them, I needs must lose myself;
- If I lose them, thus find I by their loss:
- For Valentine, myself; for Julia, Silvia.
- I to myself am dearer than a friend;
- For love is still most precious in itself;
- And Silvia- witness heaven, that made her fair!-
- Shows Julia but a swarthy Ethiope.
- I will forget that Julia is alive,
- Rememb'ring that my love to her is dead;
- And Valentine I'll hold an enemy,
- Aiming at Silvia as a sweeter friend.
- I cannot now prove constant to myself
- Without some treachery us'd to Valentine.
- This night he meaneth with a corded ladder
- To climb celestial Silvia's chamber window,
- Myself in counsel, his competitor.
- Now presently I'll give her father notice
- Of their disguising and pretended flight,
- Who, all enrag'd, will banish Valentine,
- For Thurio, he intends, shall wed his daughter;
- But, Valentine being gone, I'll quickly cross
- By some sly trick blunt Thurio's dull proceeding.
- Love, lend me wings to make my purpose swift,
- As thou hast lent me wit to plot this drift. Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE VII.
-Verona. JULIA'S house
-
-Enter JULIA and LUCETTA
-
- JULIA. Counsel, Lucetta; gentle girl, assist me;
- And, ev'n in kind love, I do conjure thee,
- Who art the table wherein all my thoughts
- Are visibly character'd and engrav'd,
- To lesson me and tell me some good mean
- How, with my honour, I may undertake
- A journey to my loving Proteus.
- LUCETTA. Alas, the way is wearisome and long!
- JULIA. A true-devoted pilgrim is not weary
- To measure kingdoms with his feeble steps;
- Much less shall she that hath Love's wings to fly,
- And when the flight is made to one so dear,
- Of such divine perfection, as Sir Proteus.
- LUCETTA. Better forbear till Proteus make return.
- JULIA. O, know'st thou not his looks are my soul's food?
- Pity the dearth that I have pined in
- By longing for that food so long a time.
- Didst thou but know the inly touch of love.
- Thou wouldst as soon go kindle fire with snow
- As seek to quench the fire of love with words.
- LUCETTA. I do not seek to quench your love's hot fire,
- But qualify the fire's extreme rage,
- Lest it should burn above the bounds of reason.
- JULIA. The more thou dam'st it up, the more it burns.
- The current that with gentle murmur glides,
- Thou know'st, being stopp'd, impatiently doth rage;
- But when his fair course is not hindered,
- He makes sweet music with th' enamell'd stones,
- Giving a gentle kiss to every sedge
- He overtaketh in his pilgrimage;
- And so by many winding nooks he strays,
- With willing sport, to the wild ocean.
- Then let me go, and hinder not my course.
- I'll be as patient as a gentle stream,
- And make a pastime of each weary step,
- Till the last step have brought me to my love;
- And there I'll rest as, after much turmoil,
- A blessed soul doth in Elysium.
- LUCETTA. But in what habit will you go along?
- JULIA. Not like a woman, for I would prevent
- The loose encounters of lascivious men;
- Gentle Lucetta, fit me with such weeds
- As may beseem some well-reputed page.
- LUCETTA. Why then, your ladyship must cut your hair.
- JULIA. No, girl; I'll knit it up in silken strings
- With twenty odd-conceited true-love knots-
- To be fantastic may become a youth
- Of greater time than I shall show to be.
- LUCETTA. What fashion, madam, shall I make your breeches?
- JULIA. That fits as well as 'Tell me, good my lord,
- What compass will you wear your farthingale.'
- Why ev'n what fashion thou best likes, Lucetta.
- LUCETTA. You must needs have them with a codpiece, madam.
- JULIA. Out, out, Lucetta, that will be ill-favour'd.
- LUCETTA. A round hose, madam, now's not worth a pin,
- Unless you have a codpiece to stick pins on.
- JULIA. Lucetta, as thou lov'st me, let me have
- What thou think'st meet, and is most mannerly.
- But tell me, wench, how will the world repute me
- For undertaking so unstaid a journey?
- I fear me it will make me scandaliz'd.
- LUCETTA. If you think so, then stay at home and go not.
- JULIA. Nay, that I will not.
- LUCETTA. Then never dream on infamy, but go.
- If Proteus like your journey when you come,
- No matter who's displeas'd when you are gone.
- I fear me he will scarce be pleas'd withal.
- JULIA. That is the least, Lucetta, of my fear:
- A thousand oaths, an ocean of his tears,
- And instances of infinite of love,
- Warrant me welcome to my Proteus.
- LUCETTA. All these are servants to deceitful men.
- JULIA. Base men that use them to so base effect!
- But truer stars did govern Proteus' birth;
- His words are bonds, his oaths are oracles,
- His love sincere, his thoughts immaculate,
- His tears pure messengers sent from his heart,
- His heart as far from fraud as heaven from earth.
- LUCETTA. Pray heav'n he prove so when you come to him.
- JULIA. Now, as thou lov'st me, do him not that wrong
- To bear a hard opinion of his truth;
- Only deserve my love by loving him.
- And presently go with me to my chamber,
- To take a note of what I stand in need of
- To furnish me upon my longing journey.
- All that is mine I leave at thy dispose,
- My goods, my lands, my reputation;
- Only, in lieu thereof, dispatch me hence.
- Come, answer not, but to it presently;
- I am impatient of my tarriance. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
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-
-ACT III. SCENE I.
-Milan. The DUKE'S palace
-
-Enter DUKE, THURIO, and PROTEUS
-
- DUKE. Sir Thurio, give us leave, I pray, awhile;
- We have some secrets to confer about. Exit THURIO
- Now tell me, Proteus, what's your will with me?
- PROTEUS. My gracious lord, that which I would discover
- The law of friendship bids me to conceal;
- But, when I call to mind your gracious favours
- Done to me, undeserving as I am,
- My duty pricks me on to utter that
- Which else no worldly good should draw from me.
- Know, worthy prince, Sir Valentine, my friend,
- This night intends to steal away your daughter;
- Myself am one made privy to the plot.
- I know you have determin'd to bestow her
- On Thurio, whom your gentle daughter hates;
- And should she thus be stol'n away from you,
- It would be much vexation to your age.
- Thus, for my duty's sake, I rather chose
- To cross my friend in his intended drift
- Than, by concealing it, heap on your head
- A pack of sorrows which would press you down,
- Being unprevented, to your timeless grave.
- DUKE. Proteus, I thank thee for thine honest care,
- Which to requite, command me while I live.
- This love of theirs myself have often seen,
- Haply when they have judg'd me fast asleep,
- And oftentimes have purpos'd to forbid
- Sir Valentine her company and my court;
- But, fearing lest my jealous aim might err
- And so, unworthily, disgrace the man,
- A rashness that I ever yet have shunn'd,
- I gave him gentle looks, thereby to find
- That which thyself hast now disclos'd to me.
- And, that thou mayst perceive my fear of this,
- Knowing that tender youth is soon suggested,
- I nightly lodge her in an upper tow'r,
- The key whereof myself have ever kept;
- And thence she cannot be convey'd away.
- PROTEUS. Know, noble lord, they have devis'd a mean
- How he her chamber window will ascend
- And with a corded ladder fetch her down;
- For which the youthful lover now is gone,
- And this way comes he with it presently;
- Where, if it please you, you may intercept him.
- But, good my lord, do it so cunningly
- That my discovery be not aimed at;
- For love of you, not hate unto my friend,
- Hath made me publisher of this pretence.
- DUKE. Upon mine honour, he shall never know
- That I had any light from thee of this.
- PROTEUS. Adieu, my lord; Sir Valentine is coming. Exit
-
- Enter VALENTINE
-
- DUKE. Sir Valentine, whither away so fast?
- VALENTINE. Please it your Grace, there is a messenger
- That stays to bear my letters to my friends,
- And I am going to deliver them.
- DUKE. Be they of much import?
- VALENTINE. The tenour of them doth but signify
- My health and happy being at your court.
- DUKE. Nay then, no matter; stay with me awhile;
- I am to break with thee of some affairs
- That touch me near, wherein thou must be secret.
- 'Tis not unknown to thee that I have sought
- To match my friend Sir Thurio to my daughter.
- VALENTINE. I know it well, my lord; and, sure, the match
- Were rich and honourable; besides, the gentleman
- Is full of virtue, bounty, worth, and qualities
- Beseeming such a wife as your fair daughter.
- Cannot your grace win her to fancy him?
- DUKE. No, trust me; she is peevish, sullen, froward,
- Proud, disobedient, stubborn, lacking duty;
- Neither regarding that she is my child
- Nor fearing me as if I were her father;
- And, may I say to thee, this pride of hers,
- Upon advice, hath drawn my love from her;
- And, where I thought the remnant of mine age
- Should have been cherish'd by her childlike duty,
- I now am full resolv'd to take a wife
- And turn her out to who will take her in.
- Then let her beauty be her wedding-dow'r;
- For me and my possessions she esteems not.
- VALENTINE. What would your Grace have me to do in this?
- DUKE. There is a lady, in Verona here,
- Whom I affect; but she is nice, and coy,
- And nought esteems my aged eloquence.
- Now, therefore, would I have thee to my tutor-
- For long agone I have forgot to court;
- Besides, the fashion of the time is chang'd-
- How and which way I may bestow myself
- To be regarded in her sun-bright eye.
- VALENTINE. Win her with gifts, if she respect not words:
- Dumb jewels often in their silent kind
- More than quick words do move a woman's mind.
- DUKE. But she did scorn a present that I sent her.
- VALENTINE. A woman sometime scorns what best contents her.
- Send her another; never give her o'er,
- For scorn at first makes after-love the more.
- If she do frown, 'tis not in hate of you,
- But rather to beget more love in you;
- If she do chide, 'tis not to have you gone,
- For why, the fools are mad if left alone.
- Take no repulse, whatever she doth say;
- For 'Get you gone' she doth not mean 'Away!'
- Flatter and praise, commend, extol their graces;
- Though ne'er so black, say they have angels' faces.
- That man that hath a tongue, I say, is no man,
- If with his tongue he cannot win a woman.
- DUKE. But she I mean is promis'd by her friends
- Unto a youthful gentleman of worth;
- And kept severely from resort of men,
- That no man hath access by day to her.
- VALENTINE. Why then I would resort to her by night.
- DUKE. Ay, but the doors be lock'd and keys kept safe,
- That no man hath recourse to her by night.
- VALENTINE. What lets but one may enter at her window?
- DUKE. Her chamber is aloft, far from the ground,
- And built so shelving that one cannot climb it
- Without apparent hazard of his life.
- VALENTINE. Why then a ladder, quaintly made of cords,
- To cast up with a pair of anchoring hooks,
- Would serve to scale another Hero's tow'r,
- So bold Leander would adventure it.
- DUKE. Now, as thou art a gentleman of blood,
- Advise me where I may have such a ladder.
- VALENTINE. When would you use it? Pray, sir, tell me that.
- DUKE. This very night; for Love is like a child,
- That longs for everything that he can come by.
- VALENTINE. By seven o'clock I'll get you such a ladder.
- DUKE. But, hark thee; I will go to her alone;
- How shall I best convey the ladder thither?
- VALENTINE. It will be light, my lord, that you may bear it
- Under a cloak that is of any length.
- DUKE. A cloak as long as thine will serve the turn?
- VALENTINE. Ay, my good lord.
- DUKE. Then let me see thy cloak.
- I'll get me one of such another length.
- VALENTINE. Why, any cloak will serve the turn, my lord.
- DUKE. How shall I fashion me to wear a cloak?
- I pray thee, let me feel thy cloak upon me.
- What letter is this same? What's here? 'To Silvia'!
- And here an engine fit for my proceeding!
- I'll be so bold to break the seal for once. [Reads]
- 'My thoughts do harbour with my Silvia nightly,
- And slaves they are to me, that send them flying.
- O, could their master come and go as lightly,
- Himself would lodge where, senseless, they are lying!
- My herald thoughts in thy pure bosom rest them,
- While I, their king, that thither them importune,
- Do curse the grace that with such grace hath blest them,
- Because myself do want my servants' fortune.
- I curse myself, for they are sent by me,
- That they should harbour where their lord should be.'
- What's here?
- 'Silvia, this night I will enfranchise thee.'
- 'Tis so; and here's the ladder for the purpose.
- Why, Phaethon- for thou art Merops' son-
- Wilt thou aspire to guide the heavenly car,
- And with thy daring folly burn the world?
- Wilt thou reach stars because they shine on thee?
- Go, base intruder, over-weening slave,
- Bestow thy fawning smiles on equal mates;
- And think my patience, more than thy desert,
- Is privilege for thy departure hence.
- Thank me for this more than for all the favours
- Which, all too much, I have bestow'd on thee.
- But if thou linger in my territories
- Longer than swiftest expedition
- Will give thee time to leave our royal court,
- By heaven! my wrath shall far exceed the love
- I ever bore my daughter or thyself.
- Be gone; I will not hear thy vain excuse,
- But, as thou lov'st thy life, make speed from hence. Exit
- VALENTINE. And why not death rather than living torment?
- To die is to be banish'd from myself,
- And Silvia is myself; banish'd from her
- Is self from self, a deadly banishment.
- What light is light, if Silvia be not seen?
- What joy is joy, if Silvia be not by?
- Unless it be to think that she is by,
- And feed upon the shadow of perfection.
- Except I be by Silvia in the night,
- There is no music in the nightingale;
- Unless I look on Silvia in the day,
- There is no day for me to look upon.
- She is my essence, and I leave to be
- If I be not by her fair influence
- Foster'd, illumin'd, cherish'd, kept alive.
- I fly not death, to fly his deadly doom:
- Tarry I here, I but attend on death;
- But fly I hence, I fly away from life.
-
- Enter PROTEUS and LAUNCE
-
- PROTEUS. Run, boy, run, run, seek him out.
- LAUNCE. So-ho, so-ho!
- PROTEUS. What seest thou?
- LAUNCE. Him we go to find: there's not a hair on 's head but 'tis a
- Valentine.
- PROTEUS. Valentine?
- VALENTINE. No.
- PROTEUS. Who then? his spirit?
- VALENTINE. Neither.
- PROTEUS. What then?
- VALENTINE. Nothing.
- LAUNCE. Can nothing speak? Master, shall I strike?
- PROTEUS. Who wouldst thou strike?
- LAUNCE. Nothing.
- PROTEUS. Villain, forbear.
- LAUNCE. Why, sir, I'll strike nothing. I pray you-
- PROTEUS. Sirrah, I say, forbear. Friend Valentine, a word.
- VALENTINE. My ears are stopp'd and cannot hear good news,
- So much of bad already hath possess'd them.
- PROTEUS. Then in dumb silence will I bury mine,
- For they are harsh, untuneable, and bad.
- VALENTINE. Is Silvia dead?
- PROTEUS. No, Valentine.
- VALENTINE. No Valentine, indeed, for sacred Silvia.
- Hath she forsworn me?
- PROTEUS. No, Valentine.
- VALENTINE. No Valentine, if Silvia have forsworn me.
- What is your news?
- LAUNCE. Sir, there is a proclamation that you are vanished.
- PROTEUS. That thou art banished- O, that's the news!-
- From hence, from Silvia, and from me thy friend.
- VALENTINE. O, I have fed upon this woe already,
- And now excess of it will make me surfeit.
- Doth Silvia know that I am banished?
- PROTEUS. Ay, ay; and she hath offered to the doom-
- Which, unrevers'd, stands in effectual force-
- A sea of melting pearl, which some call tears;
- Those at her father's churlish feet she tender'd;
- With them, upon her knees, her humble self,
- Wringing her hands, whose whiteness so became them
- As if but now they waxed pale for woe.
- But neither bended knees, pure hands held up,
- Sad sighs, deep groans, nor silver-shedding tears,
- Could penetrate her uncompassionate sire-
- But Valentine, if he be ta'en, must die.
- Besides, her intercession chaf'd him so,
- When she for thy repeal was suppliant,
- That to close prison he commanded her,
- With many bitter threats of biding there.
- VALENTINE. No more; unless the next word that thou speak'st
- Have some malignant power upon my life:
- If so, I pray thee breathe it in mine ear,
- As ending anthem of my endless dolour.
- PROTEUS. Cease to lament for that thou canst not help,
- And study help for that which thou lament'st.
- Time is the nurse and breeder of all good.
- Here if thou stay thou canst not see thy love;
- Besides, thy staying will abridge thy life.
- Hope is a lover's staff; walk hence with that,
- And manage it against despairing thoughts.
- Thy letters may be here, though thou art hence,
- Which, being writ to me, shall be deliver'd
- Even in the milk-white bosom of thy love.
- The time now serves not to expostulate.
- Come, I'll convey thee through the city gate;
- And, ere I part with thee, confer at large
- Of all that may concern thy love affairs.
- As thou lov'st Silvia, though not for thyself,
- Regard thy danger, and along with me.
- VALENTINE. I pray thee, Launce, an if thou seest my boy,
- Bid him make haste and meet me at the Northgate.
- PROTEUS. Go, sirrah, find him out. Come, Valentine.
- VALENTINE. O my dear Silvia! Hapless Valentine!
- Exeunt VALENTINE and PROTEUS
- LAUNCE. I am but a fool, look you, and yet I have the wit to think
- my master is a kind of a knave; but that's all one if he be but
- one knave. He lives not now that knows me to be in love; yet I am
- in love; but a team of horse shall not pluck that from me; nor
- who 'tis I love; and yet 'tis a woman; but what woman I will not
- tell myself; and yet 'tis a milkmaid; yet 'tis not a maid, for
- she hath had gossips; yet 'tis a maid, for she is her master's
- maid and serves for wages. She hath more qualities than a
- water-spaniel- which is much in a bare Christian. Here is the
- cate-log [Pulling out a paper] of her condition. 'Inprimis: She
- can fetch and carry.' Why, a horse can do no more; nay, a horse
- cannot fetch, but only carry; therefore is she better than a
- jade. 'Item: She can milk.' Look you, a sweet virtue in a maid
- with clean hands.
-
- Enter SPEED
-
- SPEED. How now, Signior Launce! What news with your mastership?
- LAUNCE. With my master's ship? Why, it is at sea.
- SPEED. Well, your old vice still: mistake the word. What news,
- then, in your paper?
- LAUNCE. The black'st news that ever thou heard'st.
- SPEED. Why, man? how black?
- LAUNCE. Why, as black as ink.
- SPEED. Let me read them.
- LAUNCE. Fie on thee, jolt-head; thou canst not read.
- SPEED. Thou liest; I can.
- LAUNCE. I will try thee. Tell me this: Who begot thee?
- SPEED. Marry, the son of my grandfather.
- LAUNCE. O illiterate loiterer. It was the son of thy grandmother.
- This proves that thou canst not read.
- SPEED. Come, fool, come; try me in thy paper.
- LAUNCE. [Handing over the paper] There; and Saint Nicholas be thy
- speed.
- SPEED. [Reads] 'Inprimis: She can milk.'
- LAUNCE. Ay, that she can.
- SPEED. 'Item: She brews good ale.'
- LAUNCE. And thereof comes the proverb: Blessing of your heart, you
- brew good ale.
- SPEED. 'Item: She can sew.'
- LAUNCE. That's as much as to say 'Can she so?'
- SPEED. 'Item: She can knit.'
- LAUNCE. What need a man care for a stock with a wench, when she can
- knit him a stock.
- SPEED. 'Item: She can wash and scour.'
- LAUNCE. A special virtue; for then she need not be wash'd and
- scour'd.
- SPEED. 'Item: She can spin.'
- LAUNCE. Then may I set the world on wheels, when she can spin for
- her living.
- SPEED. 'Item: She hath many nameless virtues.'
- LAUNCE. That's as much as to say 'bastard virtues'; that indeed
- know not their fathers, and therefore have no names.
- SPEED. 'Here follow her vices.'
- LAUNCE. Close at the heels of her virtues.
- SPEED. 'Item: She is not to be kiss'd fasting, in respect of her
- breath.'
- LAUNCE. Well, that fault may be mended with a breakfast.
- Read on.
- SPEED. 'Item: She hath a sweet mouth.'
- LAUNCE. That makes amends for her sour breath.
- SPEED. 'Item: She doth talk in her sleep.'
- LAUNCE. It's no matter for that, so she sleep not in her talk.
- SPEED. 'Item: She is slow in words.'
- LAUNCE. O villain, that set this down among her vices! To be slow
- in words is a woman's only virtue. I pray thee, out with't; and
- place it for her chief virtue.
- SPEED. 'Item: She is proud.'
- LAUNCE. Out with that too; it was Eve's legacy, and cannot be ta'en
- from her.
- SPEED. 'Item: She hath no teeth.'
- LAUNCE. I care not for that neither, because I love crusts.
- SPEED. 'Item: She is curst.'
- LAUNCE. Well, the best is, she hath no teeth to bite.
- SPEED. 'Item: She will often praise her liquor.'
- LAUNCE. If her liquor be good, she shall; if she will not, I will;
- for good things should be praised.
- SPEED. 'Item: She is too liberal.'
- LAUNCE. Of her tongue she cannot, for that's writ down she is slow
- of; of her purse she shall not, for that I'll keep shut. Now of
- another thing she may, and that cannot I help. Well, proceed.
- SPEED. 'Item: She hath more hair than wit, and more faults
- than hairs, and more wealth than faults.'
- LAUNCE. Stop there; I'll have her; she was mine, and not mine,
- twice or thrice in that last article. Rehearse that once more.
- SPEED. 'Item: She hath more hair than wit'-
- LAUNCE. More hair than wit. It may be; I'll prove it: the cover of
- the salt hides the salt, and therefore it is more than the salt;
- the hair that covers the wit is more than the wit, for the
- greater hides the less. What's next?
- SPEED. 'And more faults than hairs'-
- LAUNCE. That's monstrous. O that that were out!
- SPEED. 'And more wealth than faults.'
- LAUNCE. Why, that word makes the faults gracious. Well, I'll have
- her; an if it be a match, as nothing is impossible-
- SPEED. What then?
- LAUNCE. Why, then will I tell thee- that thy master stays for thee
- at the Northgate.
- SPEED. For me?
- LAUNCE. For thee! ay, who art thou? He hath stay'd for a better man
- than thee.
- SPEED. And must I go to him?
- LAUNCE. Thou must run to him, for thou hast stay'd so long that
- going will scarce serve the turn.
- SPEED. Why didst not tell me sooner? Pox of your love letters!
- Exit
- LAUNCE. Now will he be swing'd for reading my letter. An unmannerly
- slave that will thrust himself into secrets! I'll after, to
- rejoice in the boy's correction. Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-Milan. The DUKE'S palace
-
-Enter DUKE and THURIO
-
- DUKE. Sir Thurio, fear not but that she will love you
- Now Valentine is banish'd from her sight.
- THURIO. Since his exile she hath despis'd me most,
- Forsworn my company and rail'd at me,
- That I am desperate of obtaining her.
- DUKE. This weak impress of love is as a figure
- Trenched in ice, which with an hour's heat
- Dissolves to water and doth lose his form.
- A little time will melt her frozen thoughts,
- And worthless Valentine shall be forgot.
-
- Enter PROTEUS
-
- How now, Sir Proteus! Is your countryman,
- According to our proclamation, gone?
- PROTEUS. Gone, my good lord.
- DUKE. My daughter takes his going grievously.
- PROTEUS. A little time, my lord, will kill that grief.
- DUKE. So I believe; but Thurio thinks not so.
- Proteus, the good conceit I hold of thee-
- For thou hast shown some sign of good desert-
- Makes me the better to confer with thee.
- PROTEUS. Longer than I prove loyal to your Grace
- Let me not live to look upon your Grace.
- DUKE. Thou know'st how willingly I would effect
- The match between Sir Thurio and my daughter.
- PROTEUS. I do, my lord.
- DUKE. And also, I think, thou art not ignorant
- How she opposes her against my will.
- PROTEUS. She did, my lord, when Valentine was here.
- DUKE. Ay, and perversely she persevers so.
- What might we do to make the girl forget
- The love of Valentine, and love Sir Thurio?
- PROTEUS. The best way is to slander Valentine
- With falsehood, cowardice, and poor descent-
- Three things that women highly hold in hate.
- DUKE. Ay, but she'll think that it is spoke in hate.
- PROTEUS. Ay, if his enemy deliver it;
- Therefore it must with circumstance be spoken
- By one whom she esteemeth as his friend.
- DUKE. Then you must undertake to slander him.
- PROTEUS. And that, my lord, I shall be loath to do:
- 'Tis an ill office for a gentleman,
- Especially against his very friend.
- DUKE. Where your good word cannot advantage him,
- Your slander never can endamage him;
- Therefore the office is indifferent,
- Being entreated to it by your friend.
- PROTEUS. You have prevail'd, my lord; if I can do it
- By aught that I can speak in his dispraise,
- She shall not long continue love to him.
- But say this weed her love from Valentine,
- It follows not that she will love Sir Thurio.
- THURIO. Therefore, as you unwind her love from him,
- Lest it should ravel and be good to none,
- You must provide to bottom it on me;
- Which must be done by praising me as much
- As you in worth dispraise Sir Valentine.
- DUKE. And, Proteus, we dare trust you in this kind,
- Because we know, on Valentine's report,
- You are already Love's firm votary
- And cannot soon revolt and change your mind.
- Upon this warrant shall you have access
- Where you with Silvia may confer at large-
- For she is lumpish, heavy, melancholy,
- And, for your friend's sake, will be glad of you-
- Where you may temper her by your persuasion
- To hate young Valentine and love my friend.
- PROTEUS. As much as I can do I will effect.
- But you, Sir Thurio, are not sharp enough;
- You must lay lime to tangle her desires
- By wailful sonnets, whose composed rhymes
- Should be full-fraught with serviceable vows.
- DUKE. Ay,
- Much is the force of heaven-bred poesy.
- PROTEUS. Say that upon the altar of her beauty
- You sacrifice your tears, your sighs, your heart;
- Write till your ink be dry, and with your tears
- Moist it again, and frame some feeling line
- That may discover such integrity;
- For Orpheus' lute was strung with poets' sinews,
- Whose golden touch could soften steel and stones,
- Make tigers tame, and huge leviathans
- Forsake unsounded deeps to dance on sands.
- After your dire-lamenting elegies,
- Visit by night your lady's chamber window
- With some sweet consort; to their instruments
- Tune a deploring dump- the night's dead silence
- Will well become such sweet-complaining grievance.
- This, or else nothing, will inherit her.
- DUKE. This discipline shows thou hast been in love.
- THURIO. And thy advice this night I'll put in practice;
- Therefore, sweet Proteus, my direction-giver,
- Let us into the city presently
- To sort some gentlemen well skill'd in music.
- I have a sonnet that will serve the turn
- To give the onset to thy good advice.
- DUKE. About it, gentlemen!
- PROTEUS. We'll wait upon your Grace till after supper,
- And afterward determine our proceedings.
- DUKE. Even now about it! I will pardon you. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-ACT_4|SC_1
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-
-
-
-ACT IV. SCENE I.
-The frontiers of Mantua. A forest
-
-Enter certain OUTLAWS
-
- FIRST OUTLAW. Fellows, stand fast; I see a passenger.
- SECOND OUTLAW. If there be ten, shrink not, but down with 'em.
-
- Enter VALENTINE and SPEED
-
- THIRD OUTLAW. Stand, sir, and throw us that you have about ye;
- If not, we'll make you sit, and rifle you.
- SPEED. Sir, we are undone; these are the villains
- That all the travellers do fear so much.
- VALENTINE. My friends-
- FIRST OUTLAW. That's not so, sir; we are your enemies.
- SECOND OUTLAW. Peace! we'll hear him.
- THIRD OUTLAW. Ay, by my beard, will we; for he is a proper man.
- VALENTINE. Then know that I have little wealth to lose;
- A man I am cross'd with adversity;
- My riches are these poor habiliments,
- Of which if you should here disfurnish me,
- You take the sum and substance that I have.
- SECOND OUTLAW. Whither travel you?
- VALENTINE. To Verona.
- FIRST OUTLAW. Whence came you?
- VALENTINE. From Milan.
- THIRD OUTLAW. Have you long sojourn'd there?
- VALENTINE. Some sixteen months, and longer might have stay'd,
- If crooked fortune had not thwarted me.
- FIRST OUTLAW. What, were you banish'd thence?
- VALENTINE. I was.
- SECOND OUTLAW. For what offence?
- VALENTINE. For that which now torments me to rehearse:
- I kill'd a man, whose death I much repent;
- But yet I slew him manfully in fight,
- Without false vantage or base treachery.
- FIRST OUTLAW. Why, ne'er repent it, if it were done so.
- But were you banish'd for so small a fault?
- VALENTINE. I was, and held me glad of such a doom.
- SECOND OUTLAW. Have you the tongues?
- VALENTINE. My youthful travel therein made me happy,
- Or else I often had been miserable.
- THIRD OUTLAW. By the bare scalp of Robin Hood's fat friar,
- This fellow were a king for our wild faction!
- FIRST OUTLAW. We'll have him. Sirs, a word.
- SPEED. Master, be one of them; it's an honourable kind of thievery.
- VALENTINE. Peace, villain!
- SECOND OUTLAW. Tell us this: have you anything to take to?
- VALENTINE. Nothing but my fortune.
- THIRD OUTLAW. Know, then, that some of us are gentlemen,
- Such as the fury of ungovern'd youth
- Thrust from the company of awful men;
- Myself was from Verona banished
- For practising to steal away a lady,
- An heir, and near allied unto the Duke.
- SECOND OUTLAW. And I from Mantua, for a gentleman
- Who, in my mood, I stabb'd unto the heart.
- FIRST OUTLAW. And I for such-like petty crimes as these.
- But to the purpose- for we cite our faults
- That they may hold excus'd our lawless lives;
- And, partly, seeing you are beautified
- With goodly shape, and by your own report
- A linguist, and a man of such perfection
- As we do in our quality much want-
- SECOND OUTLAW. Indeed, because you are a banish'd man,
- Therefore, above the rest, we parley to you.
- Are you content to be our general-
- To make a virtue of necessity,
- And live as we do in this wilderness?
- THIRD OUTLAW. What say'st thou? Wilt thou be of our consort?
- Say 'ay' and be the captain of us all.
- We'll do thee homage, and be rul'd by thee,
- Love thee as our commander and our king.
- FIRST OUTLAW. But if thou scorn our courtesy thou diest.
- SECOND OUTLAW. Thou shalt not live to brag what we have offer'd.
- VALENTINE. I take your offer, and will live with you,
- Provided that you do no outrages
- On silly women or poor passengers.
- THIRD OUTLAW. No, we detest such vile base practices.
- Come, go with us; we'll bring thee to our crews,
- And show thee all the treasure we have got;
- Which, with ourselves, all rest at thy dispose. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-Milan. Outside the DUKE'S palace, under SILVIA'S window
-
-Enter PROTEUS
-
- PROTEUS. Already have I been false to Valentine,
- And now I must be as unjust to Thurio.
- Under the colour of commending him
- I have access my own love to prefer;
- But Silvia is too fair, too true, too holy,
- To be corrupted with my worthless gifts.
- When I protest true loyalty to her,
- She twits me with my falsehood to my friend;
- When to her beauty I commend my vows,
- She bids me think how I have been forsworn
- In breaking faith with Julia whom I lov'd;
- And notwithstanding all her sudden quips,
- The least whereof would quell a lover's hope,
- Yet, spaniel-like, the more she spurns my love
- The more it grows and fawneth on her still.
-
- Enter THURIO and MUSICIANS
-
- But here comes Thurio. Now must we to her window,
- And give some evening music to her ear.
- THURIO. How now, Sir Proteus, are you crept before us?
- PROTEUS. Ay, gentle Thurio; for you know that love
- Will creep in service where it cannot go.
- THURIO. Ay, but I hope, sir, that you love not here.
- PROTEUS. Sir, but I do; or else I would be hence.
- THURIO. Who? Silvia?
- PROTEUS. Ay, Silvia- for your sake.
- THURIO. I thank you for your own. Now, gentlemen,
- Let's tune, and to it lustily awhile.
-
- Enter at a distance, HOST, and JULIA in boy's clothes
-
- HOST. Now, my young guest, methinks you're allycholly; I pray you,
- why is it?
- JULIA. Marry, mine host, because I cannot be merry.
- HOST. Come, we'll have you merry; I'll bring you where you shall
- hear music, and see the gentleman that you ask'd for.
- JULIA. But shall I hear him speak?
- HOST. Ay, that you shall. [Music plays]
- JULIA. That will be music.
- HOST. Hark, hark!
- JULIA. Is he among these?
- HOST. Ay; but peace! let's hear 'em.
-
- SONG
- Who is Silvia? What is she,
- That all our swains commend her?
- Holy, fair, and wise is she;
- The heaven such grace did lend her,
- That she might admired be.
-
- Is she kind as she is fair?
- For beauty lives with kindness.
- Love doth to her eyes repair,
- To help him of his blindness;
- And, being help'd, inhabits there.
-
- Then to Silvia let us sing
- That Silvia is excelling;
- She excels each mortal thing
- Upon the dull earth dwelling.
- 'To her let us garlands bring.
-
- HOST. How now, are you sadder than you were before?
- How do you, man? The music likes you not.
- JULIA. You mistake; the musician likes me not.
- HOST. Why, my pretty youth?
- JULIA. He plays false, father.
- HOST. How, out of tune on the strings?
- JULIA. Not so; but yet so false that he grieves my very
- heart-strings.
- HOST. You have a quick ear.
- JULIA. Ay, I would I were deaf; it makes me have a slow heart.
- HOST. I perceive you delight not in music.
- JULIA. Not a whit, when it jars so.
- HOST. Hark, what fine change is in the music!
- JULIA. Ay, that change is the spite.
- HOST. You would have them always play but one thing?
- JULIA. I would always have one play but one thing.
- But, Host, doth this Sir Proteus, that we talk on,
- Often resort unto this gentlewoman?
- HOST. I tell you what Launce, his man, told me: he lov'd her out of
- all nick.
- JULIA. Where is Launce?
- HOST. Gone to seek his dog, which to-morrow, by his master's
- command, he must carry for a present to his lady.
- JULIA. Peace, stand aside; the company parts.
- PROTEUS. Sir Thurio, fear not you; I will so plead
- That you shall say my cunning drift excels.
- THURIO. Where meet we?
- PROTEUS. At Saint Gregory's well.
- THURIO. Farewell. Exeunt THURIO and MUSICIANS
-
- Enter SILVIA above, at her window
-
- PROTEUS. Madam, good ev'n to your ladyship.
- SILVIA. I thank you for your music, gentlemen.
- Who is that that spake?
- PROTEUS. One, lady, if you knew his pure heart's truth,
- You would quickly learn to know him by his voice.
- SILVIA. Sir Proteus, as I take it.
- PROTEUS. Sir Proteus, gentle lady, and your servant.
- SILVIA. What's your will?
- PROTEUS. That I may compass yours.
- SILVIA. You have your wish; my will is even this,
- That presently you hie you home to bed.
- Thou subtle, perjur'd, false, disloyal man,
- Think'st thou I am so shallow, so conceitless,
- To be seduced by thy flattery
- That hast deceiv'd so many with thy vows?
- Return, return, and make thy love amends.
- For me, by this pale queen of night I swear,
- I am so far from granting thy request
- That I despise thee for thy wrongful suit,
- And by and by intend to chide myself
- Even for this time I spend in talking to thee.
- PROTEUS. I grant, sweet love, that I did love a lady;
- But she is dead.
- JULIA. [Aside] 'Twere false, if I should speak it;
- For I am sure she is not buried.
- SILVIA. Say that she be; yet Valentine, thy friend,
- Survives, to whom, thyself art witness,
- I am betroth'd; and art thou not asham'd
- To wrong him with thy importunacy?
- PROTEUS. I likewise hear that Valentine is dead.
- SILVIA. And so suppose am I; for in his grave
- Assure thyself my love is buried.
- PROTEUS. Sweet lady, let me rake it from the earth.
- SILVIA. Go to thy lady's grave, and call hers thence;
- Or, at the least, in hers sepulchre thine.
- JULIA. [Aside] He heard not that.
- PROTEUS. Madam, if your heart be so obdurate,
- Vouchsafe me yet your picture for my love,
- The picture that is hanging in your chamber;
- To that I'll speak, to that I'll sigh and weep;
- For, since the substance of your perfect self
- Is else devoted, I am but a shadow;
- And to your shadow will I make true love.
- JULIA. [Aside] If 'twere a substance, you would, sure, deceive it
- And make it but a shadow, as I am.
- SILVIA. I am very loath to be your idol, sir;
- But since your falsehood shall become you well
- To worship shadows and adore false shapes,
- Send to me in the morning, and I'll send it;
- And so, good rest.
- PROTEUS. As wretches have o'ernight
- That wait for execution in the morn.
- Exeunt PROTEUS and SILVIA
- JULIA. Host, will you go?
- HOST. By my halidom, I was fast asleep.
- JULIA. Pray you, where lies Sir Proteus?
- HOST. Marry, at my house. Trust me, I think 'tis almost day.
- JULIA. Not so; but it hath been the longest night
- That e'er I watch'd, and the most heaviest. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-Under SILVIA'S window
-
-Enter EGLAMOUR
-
- EGLAMOUR. This is the hour that Madam Silvia
- Entreated me to call and know her mind;
- There's some great matter she'd employ me in.
- Madam, madam!
-
- Enter SILVIA above, at her window
-
- SILVIA. Who calls?
- EGLAMOUR. Your servant and your friend;
- One that attends your ladyship's command.
- SILVIA. Sir Eglamour, a thousand times good morrow!
- EGLAMOUR. As many, worthy lady, to yourself!
- According to your ladyship's impose,
- I am thus early come to know what service
- It is your pleasure to command me in.
- SILVIA. O Eglamour, thou art a gentleman-
- Think not I flatter, for I swear I do not-
- Valiant, wise, remorseful, well accomplish'd.
- Thou art not ignorant what dear good will
- I bear unto the banish'd Valentine;
- Nor how my father would enforce me marry
- Vain Thurio, whom my very soul abhors.
- Thyself hast lov'd; and I have heard thee say
- No grief did ever come so near thy heart
- As when thy lady and thy true love died,
- Upon whose grave thou vow'dst pure chastity.
- Sir Eglamour, I would to Valentine,
- To Mantua, where I hear he makes abode;
- And, for the ways are dangerous to pass,
- I do desire thy worthy company,
- Upon whose faith and honour I repose.
- Urge not my father's anger, Eglamour,
- But think upon my grief, a lady's grief,
- And on the justice of my flying hence
- To keep me from a most unholy match,
- Which heaven and fortune still rewards with plagues.
- I do desire thee, even from a heart
- As full of sorrows as the sea of sands,
- To bear me company and go with me;
- If not, to hide what I have said to thee,
- That I may venture to depart alone.
- EGLAMOUR. Madam, I pity much your grievances;
- Which since I know they virtuously are plac'd,
- I give consent to go along with you,
- Recking as little what betideth me
- As much I wish all good befortune you.
- When will you go?
- SILVIA. This evening coming.
- EGLAMOUR. Where shall I meet you?
- SILVIA. At Friar Patrick's cell,
- Where I intend holy confession.
- EGLAMOUR. I will not fail your ladyship. Good morrow, gentle lady.
- SILVIA. Good morrow, kind Sir Eglamour. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE IV.
-Under SILVIA'S Window
-
-Enter LAUNCE with his dog
-
- LAUNCE. When a man's servant shall play the cur with him, look you,
- it goes hard- one that I brought up of a puppy; one that I sav'd
- from drowning, when three or four of his blind brothers and
- sisters went to it. I have taught him, even as one would say
- precisely 'Thus I would teach a dog.' I was sent to deliver him
- as a present to Mistress Silvia from my master; and I came no
- sooner into the dining-chamber, but he steps me to her trencher
- and steals her capon's leg. O, 'tis a foul thing when a cur
- cannot keep himself in all companies! I would have, as one should
- say, one that takes upon him to be a dog indeed, to be, as it
- were, a dog at all things. If I had not had more wit than he, to
- take a fault upon me that he did, I think verily he had been
- hang'd for't; sure as I live, he had suffer'd for't. You shall
- judge. He thrusts me himself into the company of three or four
- gentleman-like dogs under the Duke's table; he had not been
- there, bless the mark, a pissing while but all the chamber smelt
- him. 'Out with the dog' says one; 'What cur is that?' says
- another; 'Whip him out' says the third; 'Hang him up' says the
- Duke. I, having been acquainted with the smell before, knew it
- was Crab, and goes me to the fellow that whips the dogs.
- 'Friend,' quoth I 'you mean to whip the dog.' 'Ay, marry do I'
- quoth he. 'You do him the more wrong,' quoth I; "twas I did the
- thing you wot of.' He makes me no more ado, but whips me out of
- the chamber. How many masters would do this for his servant? Nay,
- I'll be sworn, I have sat in the stock for puddings he hath
- stol'n, otherwise he had been executed; I have stood on the
- pillory for geese he hath kill'd, otherwise he had suffer'd
- for't. Thou think'st not of this now. Nay, I remember the trick
- you serv'd me when I took my leave of Madam Silvia. Did not I bid
- thee still mark me and do as I do? When didst thou see me heave
- up my leg and make water against a gentlewoman's farthingale?
- Didst thou ever see me do such a trick?
-
- Enter PROTEUS, and JULIA in boy's clothes
-
- PROTEUS. Sebastian is thy name? I like thee well,
- And will employ thee in some service presently.
- JULIA. In what you please; I'll do what I can.
- PROTEUS..I hope thou wilt. [To LAUNCE] How now, you whoreson
- peasant!
- Where have you been these two days loitering?
- LAUNCE. Marry, sir, I carried Mistress Silvia the dog you bade me.
- PROTEUS. And what says she to my little jewel?
- LAUNCE. Marry, she says your dog was a cur, and tells you currish
- thanks is good enough for such a present.
- PROTEUS. But she receiv'd my dog?
- LAUNCE. No, indeed, did she not; here have I brought him back
- again.
- PROTEUS. What, didst thou offer her this from me?
- LAUNCE. Ay, sir; the other squirrel was stol'n from me by the
- hangman's boys in the market-place; and then I offer'd her mine
- own, who is a dog as big as ten of yours, and therefore the gift
- the greater.
- PROTEUS. Go, get thee hence and find my dog again,
- Or ne'er return again into my sight.
- Away, I say. Stayest thou to vex me here? Exit LAUNCE
- A slave that still an end turns me to shame!
- Sebastian, I have entertained thee
- Partly that I have need of such a youth
- That can with some discretion do my business,
- For 'tis no trusting to yond foolish lout,
- But chiefly for thy face and thy behaviour,
- Which, if my augury deceive me not,
- Witness good bringing up, fortune, and truth;
- Therefore, know thou, for this I entertain thee.
- Go presently, and take this ring with thee,
- Deliver it to Madam Silvia-
- She lov'd me well deliver'd it to me.
- JULIA. It seems you lov'd not her, to leave her token.
- She is dead, belike?
- PROTEUS. Not so; I think she lives.
- JULIA. Alas!
- PROTEUS. Why dost thou cry 'Alas'?
- JULIA. I cannot choose
- But pity her.
- PROTEUS. Wherefore shouldst thou pity her?
- JULIA. Because methinks that she lov'd you as well
- As you do love your lady Silvia.
- She dreams on him that has forgot her love:
- You dote on her that cares not for your love.
- 'Tis pity love should be so contrary;
- And thinking on it makes me cry 'Alas!'
- PROTEUS. Well, give her that ring, and therewithal
- This letter. That's her chamber. Tell my lady
- I claim the promise for her heavenly picture.
- Your message done, hie home unto my chamber,
- Where thou shalt find me sad and solitary. Exit PROTEUS
- JULIA. How many women would do such a message?
- Alas, poor Proteus, thou hast entertain'd
- A fox to be the shepherd of thy lambs.
- Alas, poor fool, why do I pity him
- That with his very heart despiseth me?
- Because he loves her, he despiseth me;
- Because I love him, I must pity him.
- This ring I gave him, when he parted from me,
- To bind him to remember my good will;
- And now am I, unhappy messenger,
- To plead for that which I would not obtain,
- To carry that which I would have refus'd,
- To praise his faith, which I would have disprais'd.
- I am my master's true confirmed love,
- But cannot be true servant to my master
- Unless I prove false traitor to myself.
- Yet will I woo for him, but yet so coldly
- As, heaven it knows, I would not have him speed.
-
- Enter SILVIA, attended
-
- Gentlewoman, good day! I pray you be my mean
- To bring me where to speak with Madam Silvia.
- SILVIA. What would you with her, if that I be she?
- JULIA. If you be she, I do entreat your patience
- To hear me speak the message I am sent on.
- SILVIA. From whom?
- JULIA. From my master, Sir Proteus, madam.
- SILVIA. O, he sends you for a picture?
- JULIA. Ay, madam.
- SILVIA. Ursula, bring my picture there.
- Go, give your master this. Tell him from me,
- One Julia, that his changing thoughts forget,
- Would better fit his chamber than this shadow.
- JULIA. Madam, please you peruse this letter.
- Pardon me, madam; I have unadvis'd
- Deliver'd you a paper that I should not.
- This is the letter to your ladyship.
- SILVIA. I pray thee let me look on that again.
- JULIA. It may not be; good madam, pardon me.
- SILVIA. There, hold!
- I will not look upon your master's lines.
- I know they are stuff'd with protestations,
- And full of new-found oaths, which he wul break
- As easily as I do tear his paper.
- JULIA. Madam, he sends your ladyship this ring.
- SILVIA. The more shame for him that he sends it me;
- For I have heard him say a thousand times
- His Julia gave it him at his departure.
- Though his false finger have profan'd the ring,
- Mine shall not do his Julia so much wrong.
- JULIA. She thanks you.
- SILVIA. What say'st thou?
- JULIA. I thank you, madam, that you tender her.
- Poor gentlewoman, my master wrongs her much.
- SILVIA. Dost thou know her?
- JULIA. Almost as well as I do know myself.
- To think upon her woes, I do protest
- That I have wept a hundred several times.
- SILVIA. Belike she thinks that Proteus hath forsook her.
- JULIA. I think she doth, and that's her cause of sorrow.
- SILVIA. Is she not passing fair?
- JULIA. She hath been fairer, madam, than she is.
- When she did think my master lov'd her well,
- She, in my judgment, was as fair as you;
- But since she did neglect her looking-glass
- And threw her sun-expelling mask away,
- The air hath starv'd the roses in her cheeks
- And pinch'd the lily-tincture of her face,
- That now she is become as black as I.
- SILVIA. How tall was she?
- JULIA. About my stature; for at Pentecost,
- When all our pageants of delight were play'd,
- Our youth got me to play the woman's part,
- And I was trimm'd in Madam Julia's gown;
- Which served me as fit, by all men's judgments,
- As if the garment had been made for me;
- Therefore I know she is about my height.
- And at that time I made her weep a good,
- For I did play a lamentable part.
- Madam, 'twas Ariadne passioning
- For Theseus' perjury and unjust flight;
- Which I so lively acted with my tears
- That my poor mistress, moved therewithal,
- Wept bitterly; and would I might be dead
- If I in thought felt not her very sorrow.
- SILVIA. She is beholding to thee, gentle youth.
- Alas, poor lady, desolate and left!
- I weep myself, to think upon thy words.
- Here, youth, there is my purse; I give thee this
- For thy sweet mistress' sake, because thou lov'st her.
- Farewell. Exit SILVIA with ATTENDANTS
- JULIA. And she shall thank you for't, if e'er you know her.
- A virtuous gentlewoman, mild and beautiful!
- I hope my master's suit will be but cold,
- Since she respects my mistress' love so much.
- Alas, how love can trifle with itself!
- Here is her picture; let me see. I think,
- If I had such a tire, this face of mine
- Were full as lovely as is this of hers;
- And yet the painter flatter'd her a little,
- Unless I flatter with myself too much.
- Her hair is auburn, mine is perfect yellow;
- If that be all the difference in his love,
- I'll get me such a colour'd periwig.
- Her eyes are grey as glass, and so are mine;
- Ay, but her forehead's low, and mine's as high.
- What should it be that he respects in her
- But I can make respective in myself,
- If this fond Love were not a blinded god?
- Come, shadow, come, and take this shadow up,
- For 'tis thy rival. O thou senseless form,
- Thou shalt be worshipp'd, kiss'd, lov'd, and ador'd!
- And were there sense in his idolatry
- My substance should be statue in thy stead.
- I'll use thee kindly for thy mistress' sake,
- That us'd me so; or else, by Jove I vow,
- I should have scratch'd out your unseeing eyes,
- To make my master out of love with thee. Exit
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-
-ACT V. SCENE I.
-Milan. An abbey
-
-Enter EGLAMOUR
-
- EGLAMOUR. The sun begins to gild the western sky,
- And now it is about the very hour
- That Silvia at Friar Patrick's cell should meet me.
- She will not fail, for lovers break not hours
- Unless it be to come before their time,
- So much they spur their expedition.
-
- Enter SILVIA
-
- See where she comes. Lady, a happy evening!
- SILVIA. Amen, amen! Go on, good Eglamour,
- Out at the postern by the abbey wall;
- I fear I am attended by some spies.
- EGLAMOUR. Fear not. The forest is not three leagues off;
- If we recover that, we are sure enough. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-Milan. The DUKE'S palace
-
-Enter THURIO, PROTEUS, and JULIA as SEBASTIAN
-
- THURIO. Sir Proteus, what says Silvia to my suit?
- PROTEUS. O, sir, I find her milder than she was;
- And yet she takes exceptions at your person.
- THURIO. What, that my leg is too long?
- PROTEUS. No; that it is too little.
- THURIO. I'll wear a boot to make it somewhat rounder.
- JULIA. [Aside] But love will not be spurr'd to what it loathes.
- THURIO. What says she to my face?
- PROTEUS. She says it is a fair one.
- THURIO. Nay, then, the wanton lies; my face is black.
- PROTEUS. But pearls are fair; and the old saying is:
- Black men are pearls in beauteous ladies' eyes.
- JULIA. [Aside] 'Tis true, such pearls as put out ladies' eyes;
- For I had rather wink than look on them.
- THURIO. How likes she my discourse?
- PROTEUS. Ill, when you talk of war.
- THURIO. But well when I discourse of love and peace?
- JULIA. [Aside] But better, indeed, when you hold your peace.
- THURIO. What says she to my valour?
- PROTEUS. O, sir, she makes no doubt of that.
- JULIA. [Aside] She needs not, when she knows it cowardice.
- THURIO. What says she to my birth?
- PROTEUS. That you are well deriv'd.
- JULIA. [Aside] True; from a gentleman to a fool.
- THURIO. Considers she my possessions?
- PROTEUS. O, ay; and pities them.
- THURIO. Wherefore?
- JULIA. [Aside] That such an ass should owe them.
- PROTEUS. That they are out by lease.
- JULIA. Here comes the Duke.
-
- Enter DUKE
-
- DUKE. How now, Sir Proteus! how now, Thurio!
- Which of you saw Sir Eglamour of late?
- THURIO. Not I.
- PROTEUS. Nor I.
- DUKE. Saw you my daughter?
- PROTEUS. Neither.
- DUKE. Why then,
- She's fled unto that peasant Valentine;
- And Eglamour is in her company.
- 'Tis true; for Friar Lawrence met them both
- As he in penance wander'd through the forest;
- Him he knew well, and guess'd that it was she,
- But, being mask'd, he was not sure of it;
- Besides, she did intend confession
- At Patrick's cell this even; and there she was not.
- These likelihoods confirm her flight from hence;
- Therefore, I pray you, stand not to discourse,
- But mount you presently, and meet with me
- Upon the rising of the mountain foot
- That leads toward Mantua, whither they are fled.
- Dispatch, sweet gentlemen, and follow me. Exit
- THURIO. Why, this it is to be a peevish girl
- That flies her fortune when it follows her.
- I'll after, more to be reveng'd on Eglamour
- Than for the love of reckless Silvia. Exit
- PROTEUS. And I will follow, more for Silvia's love
- Than hate of Eglamour, that goes with her. Exit
- JULIA. And I will follow, more to cross that love
- Than hate for Silvia, that is gone for love. Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-The frontiers of Mantua. The forest
-
-Enter OUTLAWS with SILVA
-
- FIRST OUTLAW. Come, come.
- Be patient; we must bring you to our captain.
- SILVIA. A thousand more mischances than this one
- Have learn'd me how to brook this patiently.
- SECOND OUTLAW. Come, bring her away.
- FIRST OUTLAW. Where is the gentleman that was with her?
- SECOND OUTLAW. Being nimble-footed, he hath outrun us,
- But Moyses and Valerius follow him.
- Go thou with her to the west end of the wood;
- There is our captain; we'll follow him that's fled.
- The thicket is beset; he cannot 'scape.
- FIRST OUTLAW. Come, I must bring you to our captain's cave;
- Fear not; he bears an honourable mind,
- And will not use a woman lawlessly.
- SILVIA. O Valentine, this I endure for thee! Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE IV.
-Another part of the forest
-
-Enter VALENTINE
-
- VALENTINE. How use doth breed a habit in a man!
- This shadowy desert, unfrequented woods,
- I better brook than flourishing peopled towns.
- Here can I sit alone, unseen of any,
- And to the nightingale's complaining notes
- Tune my distresses and record my woes.
- O thou that dost inhabit in my breast,
- Leave not the mansion so long tenantless,
- Lest, growing ruinous, the building fall
- And leave no memory of what it was!
- Repair me with thy presence, Silvia:
- Thou gentle nymph, cherish thy forlorn swain.
- What halloing and what stir is this to-day?
- These are my mates, that make their wills their law,
- Have some unhappy passenger in chase.
- They love me well; yet I have much to do
- To keep them from uncivil outrages.
- Withdraw thee, Valentine. Who's this comes here?
- [Steps aside]
-
- Enter PROTEUS, SILVIA, and JULIA as Sebastian
-
- PROTEUS. Madam, this service I have done for you,
- Though you respect not aught your servant doth,
- To hazard life, and rescue you from him
- That would have forc'd your honour and your love.
- Vouchsafe me, for my meed, but one fair look;
- A smaller boon than this I cannot beg,
- And less than this, I am sure, you cannot give.
- VALENTINE. [Aside] How like a dream is this I see and hear!
- Love, lend me patience to forbear awhile.
- SILVIA. O miserable, unhappy that I am!
- PROTEUS. Unhappy were you, madam, ere I came;
- But by my coming I have made you happy.
- SILVIA. By thy approach thou mak'st me most unhappy.
- JULIA. [Aside] And me, when he approacheth to your presence.
- SILVIA. Had I been seized by a hungry lion,
- I would have been a breakfast to the beast
- Rather than have false Proteus rescue me.
- O, heaven be judge how I love Valentine,
- Whose life's as tender to me as my soul!
- And full as much, for more there cannot be,
- I do detest false, perjur'd Proteus.
- Therefore be gone; solicit me no more.
- PROTEUS. What dangerous action, stood it next to death,
- Would I not undergo for one calm look?
- O, 'tis the curse in love, and still approv'd,
- When women cannot love where they're belov'd!
- SILVIA. When Proteus cannot love where he's belov'd!
- Read over Julia's heart, thy first best love,
- For whose dear sake thou didst then rend thy faith
- Into a thousand oaths; and all those oaths
- Descended into perjury, to love me.
- Thou hast no faith left now, unless thou'dst two,
- And that's far worse than none; better have none
- Than plural faith, which is too much by one.
- Thou counterfeit to thy true friend!
- PROTEUS. In love,
- Who respects friend?
- SILVIA. All men but Proteus.
- PROTEUS. Nay, if the gentle spirit of moving words
- Can no way change you to a milder form,
- I'll woo you like a soldier, at arms' end,
- And love you 'gainst the nature of love- force ye.
- SILVIA. O heaven!
- PROTEUS. I'll force thee yield to my desire.
- VALENTINE. Ruffian! let go that rude uncivil touch;
- Thou friend of an ill fashion!
- PROTEUS. Valentine!
- VALENTINE. Thou common friend, that's without faith or love-
- For such is a friend now; treacherous man,
- Thou hast beguil'd my hopes; nought but mine eye
- Could have persuaded me. Now I dare not say
- I have one friend alive: thou wouldst disprove me.
- Who should be trusted, when one's own right hand
- Is perjured to the bosom? Proteus,
- I am sorry I must never trust thee more,
- But count the world a stranger for thy sake.
- The private wound is deepest. O time most accurst!
- 'Mongst all foes that a friend should be the worst!
- PROTEUS. My shame and guilt confounds me.
- Forgive me, Valentine; if hearty sorrow
- Be a sufficient ransom for offence,
- I tender 't here; I do as truly suffer
- As e'er I did commit.
- VALENTINE. Then I am paid;
- And once again I do receive thee honest.
- Who by repentance is not satisfied
- Is nor of heaven nor earth, for these are pleas'd;
- By penitence th' Eternal's wrath's appeas'd.
- And, that my love may appear plain and free,
- All that was mine in Silvia I give thee.
- JULIA. O me unhappy! [Swoons]
- PROTEUS. Look to the boy.
- VALENTINE. Why, boy! why, wag! how now!
- What's the matter? Look up; speak.
- JULIA. O good sir, my master charg'd me to deliver a ring to Madam
- Silvia, which, out of my neglect, was never done.
- PROTEUS. Where is that ring, boy?
- JULIA. Here 'tis; this is it.
- PROTEUS. How! let me see. Why, this is the ring I gave to Julia.
- JULIA. O, cry you mercy, sir, I have mistook;
- This is the ring you sent to Silvia.
- PROTEUS. But how cam'st thou by this ring?
- At my depart I gave this unto Julia.
- JULIA. And Julia herself did give it me;
- And Julia herself have brought it hither.
- PROTEUS. How! Julia!
- JULIA. Behold her that gave aim to all thy oaths,
- And entertain'd 'em deeply in her heart.
- How oft hast thou with perjury cleft the root!
- O Proteus, let this habit make thee blush!
- Be thou asham'd that I have took upon me
- Such an immodest raiment- if shame live
- In a disguise of love.
- It is the lesser blot, modesty finds,
- Women to change their shapes than men their minds.
- PROTEUS. Than men their minds! 'tis true. O heaven, were man
- But constant, he were perfect! That one error
- Fills him with faults; makes him run through all th' sins:
- Inconstancy falls off ere it begins.
- What is in Silvia's face but I may spy
- More fresh in Julia's with a constant eye?
- VALENTINE. Come, come, a hand from either.
- Let me be blest to make this happy close;
- 'Twere pity two such friends should be long foes.
- PROTEUS. Bear witness, heaven, I have my wish for ever.
- JULIA. And I mine.
-
- Enter OUTLAWS, with DUKE and THURIO
-
- OUTLAW. A prize, a prize, a prize!
- VALENTINE. Forbear, forbear, I say; it is my lord the Duke.
- Your Grace is welcome to a man disgrac'd,
- Banished Valentine.
- DUKE. Sir Valentine!
- THURIO. Yonder is Silvia; and Silvia's mine.
- VALENTINE. Thurio, give back, or else embrace thy death;
- Come not within the measure of my wrath;
- Do not name Silvia thine; if once again,
- Verona shall not hold thee. Here she stands
- Take but possession of her with a touch-
- I dare thee but to breathe upon my love.
- THURIO. Sir Valentine, I care not for her, I;
- I hold him but a fool that will endanger
- His body for a girl that loves him not.
- I claim her not, and therefore she is thine.
- DUKE. The more degenerate and base art thou
- To make such means for her as thou hast done
- And leave her on such slight conditions.
- Now, by the honour of my ancestry,
- I do applaud thy spirit, Valentine,
- And think thee worthy of an empress' love.
- Know then, I here forget all former griefs,
- Cancel all grudge, repeal thee home again,
- Plead a new state in thy unrivall'd merit,
- To which I thus subscribe: Sir Valentine,
- Thou art a gentleman, and well deriv'd;
- Take thou thy Silvia, for thou hast deserv'd her.
- VALENTINE. I thank your Grace; the gift hath made me happy.
- I now beseech you, for your daughter's sake,
- To grant one boon that I shall ask of you.
- DUKE. I grant it for thine own, whate'er it be.
- VALENTINE. These banish'd men, that I have kept withal,
- Are men endu'd with worthy qualities;
- Forgive them what they have committed here,
- And let them be recall'd from their exile:
- They are reformed, civil, full of good,
- And fit for great employment, worthy lord.
- DUKE. Thou hast prevail'd; I pardon them, and thee;
- Dispose of them as thou know'st their deserts.
- Come, let us go; we will include all jars
- With triumphs, mirth, and rare solemnity.
- VALENTINE. And, as we walk along, I dare be bold
- With our discourse to make your Grace to smile.
- What think you of this page, my lord?
- DUKE. I think the boy hath grace in him; he blushes.
- VALENTINE. I warrant you, my lord- more grace than boy.
- DUKE. What mean you by that saying?
- VALENTINE. Please you, I'll tell you as we pass along,
- That you will wonder what hath fortuned.
- Come, Proteus, 'tis your penance but to hear
- The story of your loves discovered.
- That done, our day of marriage shall be yours;
- One feast, one house, one mutual happiness! Exeunt
-
-THE END
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-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
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-1611
-
-THE WINTER'S TALE
-
-by William Shakespeare
-
-
-
-Dramatis Personae
-
- LEONTES, King of Sicilia
- MAMILLIUS, his son, the young Prince of Sicilia
- CAMILLO, lord of Sicilia
- ANTIGONUS, " " "
- CLEOMENES, " " "
- DION, " " "
- POLIXENES, King of Bohemia
- FLORIZEL, his son, Prince of Bohemia
- ARCHIDAMUS, a lord of Bohemia
- OLD SHEPHERD, reputed father of Perdita
- CLOWN, his son
- AUTOLYCUS, a rogue
- A MARINER
- A GAOLER
- TIME, as Chorus
-
- HERMIONE, Queen to Leontes
- PERDITA, daughter to Leontes and Hermione
- PAULINA, wife to Antigonus
- EMILIA, a lady attending on the Queen
- MOPSA, shepherdess
- DORCAS, "
-
- Other Lords, Gentlemen, Ladies, Officers, Servants, Shepherds,
- Shepherdesses
-
- SCENE:
- Sicilia and Bohemia
-
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
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-ACT I. SCENE I.
-Sicilia. The palace of LEONTES
-
-Enter CAMILLO and ARCHIDAMUS
-
- ARCHIDAMUS. If you shall chance, Camillo, to visit Bohemia, on the
- like occasion whereon my services are now on foot, you shall see,
- as I have said, great difference betwixt our Bohemia and your
- Sicilia.
- CAMILLO. I think this coming summer the King of Sicilia means to
- pay Bohemia the visitation which he justly owes him.
- ARCHIDAMUS. Wherein our entertainment shall shame us we will be
- justified in our loves; for indeed-
- CAMILLO. Beseech you-
- ARCHIDAMUS. Verily, I speak it in the freedom of my knowledge: we
- cannot with such magnificence, in so rare- I know not what to
- say. We will give you sleepy drinks, that your senses,
- unintelligent of our insufficience, may, though they cannot
- praise us, as little accuse us.
- CAMILLO. You pay a great deal too dear for what's given freely.
- ARCHIDAMUS. Believe me, I speak as my understanding instructs me
- and as mine honesty puts it to utterance.
- CAMILLO. Sicilia cannot show himself overkind to Bohemia. They were
- train'd together in their childhoods; and there rooted betwixt
- them then such an affection which cannot choose but branch now.
- Since their more mature dignities and royal necessities made
- separation of their society, their encounters, though not
- personal, have been royally attorneyed with interchange of gifts,
- letters, loving embassies; that they have seem'd to be together,
- though absent; shook hands, as over a vast; and embrac'd as it
- were from the ends of opposed winds. The heavens continue their
- loves!
- ARCHIDAMUS. I think there is not in the world either malice or
- matter to alter it. You have an unspeakable comfort of your young
- Prince Mamillius; it is a gentleman of the greatest promise that
- ever came into my note.
- CAMILLO. I very well agree with you in the hopes of him. It is a
- gallant child; one that indeed physics the subject, makes old
- hearts fresh; they that went on crutches ere he was born desire
- yet their life to see him a man.
- ARCHIDAMUS. Would they else be content to die?
- CAMILLO. Yes; if there were no other excuse why they should desire
- to live.
- ARCHIDAMUS. If the King had no son, they would desire to live on
- crutches till he had one.
- Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-Sicilia. The palace of LEONTES
-
-Enter LEONTES, POLIXENES, HERMIONE, MAMILLIUS, CAMILLO, and ATTENDANTS
-
- POLIXENES. Nine changes of the wat'ry star hath been
- The shepherd's note since we have left our throne
- Without a burden. Time as long again
- Would be fill'd up, my brother, with our thanks;
- And yet we should for perpetuity
- Go hence in debt. And therefore, like a cipher,
- Yet standing in rich place, I multiply
- With one 'We thank you' many thousands moe
- That go before it.
- LEONTES. Stay your thanks a while,
- And pay them when you part.
- POLIXENES. Sir, that's to-morrow.
- I am question'd by my fears of what may chance
- Or breed upon our absence, that may blow
- No sneaping winds at home, to make us say
- 'This is put forth too truly.' Besides, I have stay'd
- To tire your royalty.
- LEONTES. We are tougher, brother,
- Than you can put us to't.
- POLIXENES. No longer stay.
- LEONTES. One sev'night longer.
- POLIXENES. Very sooth, to-morrow.
- LEONTES. We'll part the time between's then; and in that
- I'll no gainsaying.
- POLIXENES. Press me not, beseech you, so.
- There is no tongue that moves, none, none i' th' world,
- So soon as yours could win me. So it should now,
- Were there necessity in your request, although
- 'Twere needful I denied it. My affairs
- Do even drag me homeward; which to hinder
- Were in your love a whip to me; my stay
- To you a charge and trouble. To save both,
- Farewell, our brother.
- LEONTES. Tongue-tied, our Queen? Speak you.
- HERMIONE. I had thought, sir, to have held my peace until
- You had drawn oaths from him not to stay. You, sir,
- Charge him too coldly. Tell him you are sure
- All in Bohemia's well- this satisfaction
- The by-gone day proclaim'd. Say this to him,
- He's beat from his best ward.
- LEONTES. Well said, Hermione.
- HERMIONE. To tell he longs to see his son were strong;
- But let him say so then, and let him go;
- But let him swear so, and he shall not stay;
- We'll thwack him hence with distaffs.
- [To POLIXENES] Yet of your royal presence I'll
- adventure the borrow of a week. When at Bohemia
- You take my lord, I'll give him my commission
- To let him there a month behind the gest
- Prefix'd for's parting.- Yet, good deed, Leontes,
- I love thee not a jar o' th' clock behind
- What lady she her lord.- You'll stay?
- POLIXENES. No, madam.
- HERMIONE. Nay, but you will?
- POLIXENES. I may not, verily.
- HERMIONE. Verily!
- You put me off with limber vows; but I,
- Though you would seek t' unsphere the stars with oaths,
- Should yet say 'Sir, no going.' Verily,
- You shall not go; a lady's 'verily' is
- As potent as a lord's. Will go yet?
- Force me to keep you as a prisoner,
- Not like a guest; so you shall pay your fees
- When you depart, and save your thanks. How say you?
- My prisoner or my guest? By your dread 'verily,'
- One of them you shall be.
- POLIXENES. Your guest, then, madam:
- To be your prisoner should import offending;
- Which is for me less easy to commit
- Than you to punish.
- HERMIONE. Not your gaoler then,
- But your kind. hostess. Come, I'll question you
- Of my lord's tricks and yours when you were boys.
- You were pretty lordings then!
- POLIXENES. We were, fair Queen,
- Two lads that thought there was no more behind
- But such a day to-morrow as to-day,
- And to be boy eternal.
- HERMIONE. Was not my lord
- The verier wag o' th' two?
- POLIXENES. We were as twinn'd lambs that did frisk i' th' sun
- And bleat the one at th' other. What we chang'd
- Was innocence for innocence; we knew not
- The doctrine of ill-doing, nor dream'd
- That any did. Had we pursu'd that life,
- And our weak spirits ne'er been higher rear'd
- With stronger blood, we should have answer'd heaven
- Boldly 'Not guilty,' the imposition clear'd
- Hereditary ours.
- HERMIONE. By this we gather
- You have tripp'd since.
- POLIXENES. O my most sacred lady,
- Temptations have since then been born to 's, for
- In those unfledg'd days was my wife a girl;
- Your precious self had then not cross'd the eyes
- Of my young playfellow.
- HERMIONE. Grace to boot!
- Of this make no conclusion, lest you say
- Your queen and I are devils. Yet, go on;
- Th' offences we have made you do we'll answer,
- If you first sinn'd with us, and that with us
- You did continue fault, and that you slipp'd not
- With any but with us.
- LEONTES. Is he won yet?
- HERMIONE. He'll stay, my lord.
- LEONTES. At my request he would not.
- Hermione, my dearest, thou never spok'st
- To better purpose.
- HERMIONE. Never?
- LEONTES. Never but once.
- HERMIONE. What! Have I twice said well? When was't before?
- I prithee tell me; cram's with praise, and make's
- As fat as tame things. One good deed dying tongueless
- Slaughters a thousand waiting upon that.
- Our praises are our wages; you may ride's
- With one soft kiss a thousand furlongs ere
- With spur we heat an acre. But to th' goal:
- My last good deed was to entreat his stay;
- What was my first? It has an elder sister,
- Or I mistake you. O, would her name were Grace!
- But once before I spoke to th' purpose- When?
- Nay, let me have't; I long.
- LEONTES. Why, that was when
- Three crabbed months had sour'd themselves to death,
- Ere I could make thee open thy white hand
- And clap thyself my love; then didst thou utter
- 'I am yours for ever.'
- HERMIONE. 'Tis Grace indeed.
- Why, lo you now, I have spoke to th' purpose twice:
- The one for ever earn'd a royal husband;
- Th' other for some while a friend.
- [Giving her hand to POLIXENES]
- LEONTES. [Aside] Too hot, too hot!
- To mingle friendship far is mingling bloods.
- I have tremor cordis on me; my heart dances,
- But not for joy, not joy. This entertainment
- May a free face put on; derive a liberty
- From heartiness, from bounty, fertile bosom,
- And well become the agent. 'T may, I grant;
- But to be paddling palms and pinching fingers,
- As now they are, and making practis'd smiles
- As in a looking-glass; and then to sigh, as 'twere
- The mort o' th' deer. O, that is entertainment
- My bosom likes not, nor my brows! Mamillius,
- Art thou my boy?
- MAMILLIUS. Ay, my good lord.
- LEONTES. I' fecks!
- Why, that's my bawcock. What! hast smutch'd thy nose?
- They say it is a copy out of mine. Come, Captain,
- We must be neat- not neat, but cleanly, Captain.
- And yet the steer, the heifer, and the calf,
- Are all call'd neat.- Still virginalling
- Upon his palm?- How now, you wanton calf,
- Art thou my calf?
- MAMILLIUS. Yes, if you will, my lord.
- LEONTES. Thou want'st a rough pash and the shoots that I have,
- To be full like me; yet they say we are
- Almost as like as eggs. Women say so,
- That will say anything. But were they false
- As o'er-dy'd blacks, as wind, as waters- false
- As dice are to be wish'd by one that fixes
- No bourn 'twixt his and mine; yet were it true
- To say this boy were like me. Come, sir page,
- Look on me with your welkin eye. Sweet villain!
- Most dear'st! my collop! Can thy dam?- may't be?
- Affection! thy intention stabs the centre.
- Thou dost make possible things not so held,
- Communicat'st with dreams- how can this be?-
- With what's unreal thou coactive art,
- And fellow'st nothing. Then 'tis very credent
- Thou mayst co-join with something; and thou dost-
- And that beyond commission; and I find it,
- And that to the infection of my brains
- And hard'ning of my brows.
- POLIXENES. What means Sicilia?
- HERMIONE. He something seems unsettled.
- POLIXENES. How, my lord!
- What cheer? How is't with you, best brother?
- HERMIONE. You look
- As if you held a brow of much distraction.
- Are you mov'd, my lord?
- LEONTES. No, in good earnest.
- How sometimes nature will betray its folly,
- Its tenderness, and make itself a pastime
- To harder bosoms! Looking on the lines
- Of my boy's face, methoughts I did recoil
- Twenty-three years; and saw myself unbreech'd,
- In my green velvet coat; my dagger muzzl'd,
- Lest it should bite its master and so prove,
- As ornaments oft do, too dangerous.
- How like, methought, I then was to this kernel,
- This squash, this gentleman. Mine honest friend,
- Will you take eggs for money?
- MAMILLIUS. No, my lord, I'll fight.
- LEONTES. You will? Why, happy man be's dole! My brother,
- Are you so fond of your young prince as we
- Do seem to be of ours?
- POLIXENES. If at home, sir,
- He's all my exercise, my mirth, my matter;
- Now my sworn friend, and then mine enemy;
- My parasite, my soldier, statesman, all.
- He makes a July's day short as December,
- And with his varying childness cures in me
- Thoughts that would thick my blood.
- LEONTES. So stands this squire
- Offic'd with me. We two will walk, my lord,
- And leave you to your graver steps. Hermione,
- How thou lov'st us show in our brother's welcome;
- Let what is dear in Sicily be cheap;
- Next to thyself and my young rover, he's
- Apparent to my heart.
- HERMIONE. If you would seek us,
- We are yours i' th' garden. Shall's attend you there?
- LEONTES. To your own bents dispose you; you'll be found,
- Be you beneath the sky. [Aside] I am angling now,
- Though you perceive me not how I give line.
- Go to, go to!
- How she holds up the neb, the bill to him!
- And arms her with the boldness of a wife
- To her allowing husband!
-
- Exeunt POLIXENES, HERMIONE, and ATTENDANTS
-
- Gone already!
- Inch-thick, knee-deep, o'er head and ears a fork'd one!
- Go, play, boy, play; thy mother plays, and I
- Play too; but so disgrac'd a part, whose issue
- Will hiss me to my grave. Contempt and clamour
- Will be my knell. Go, play, boy, play. There have been,
- Or I am much deceiv'd, cuckolds ere now;
- And many a man there is, even at this present,
- Now while I speak this, holds his wife by th' arm
- That little thinks she has been sluic'd in's absence,
- And his pond fish'd by his next neighbour, by
- Sir Smile, his neighbour. Nay, there's comfort in't,
- Whiles other men have gates and those gates open'd,
- As mine, against their will. Should all despair
- That hath revolted wives, the tenth of mankind
- Would hang themselves. Physic for't there's none;
- It is a bawdy planet, that will strike
- Where 'tis predominant; and 'tis pow'rfull, think it,
- From east, west, north, and south. Be it concluded,
- No barricado for a belly. Know't,
- It will let in and out the enemy
- With bag and baggage. Many thousand on's
- Have the disease, and feel't not. How now, boy!
- MAMILLIUS. I am like you, they say.
- LEONTES. Why, that's some comfort.
- What! Camillo there?
- CAMILLO. Ay, my good lord.
- LEONTES. Go play, Mamillius; thou'rt an honest man.
- Exit MAMILLIUS
- Camillo, this great sir will yet stay longer.
- CAMILLO. You had much ado to make his anchor hold;
- When you cast out, it still came home.
- LEONTES. Didst note it?
- CAMILLO. He would not stay at your petitions; made
- His business more material.
- LEONTES. Didst perceive it?
- [Aside] They're here with me already; whisp'ring, rounding,
- 'Sicilia is a so-forth.' 'Tis far gone
- When I shall gust it last.- How came't, Camillo,
- That he did stay?
- CAMILLO. At the good Queen's entreaty.
- LEONTES. 'At the Queen's' be't. 'Good' should be pertinent;
- But so it is, it is not. Was this taken
- By any understanding pate but thine?
- For thy conceit is soaking, will draw in
- More than the common blocks. Not noted, is't,
- But of the finer natures, by some severals
- Of head-piece extraordinary? Lower messes
- Perchance are to this business purblind? Say.
- CAMILLO. Business, my lord? I think most understand
- Bohemia stays here longer.
- LEONTES. Ha?
- CAMILLO. Stays here longer.
- LEONTES. Ay, but why?
- CAMILLO. To satisfy your Highness, and the entreaties
- Of our most gracious mistress.
- LEONTES. Satisfy
- Th' entreaties of your mistress! Satisfy!
- Let that suffice. I have trusted thee, Camillo,
- With all the nearest things to my heart, as well
- My chamber-councils, wherein, priest-like, thou
- Hast cleans'd my bosom- I from thee departed
- Thy penitent reform'd; but we have been
- Deceiv'd in thy integrity, deceiv'd
- In that which seems so.
- CAMILLO. Be it forbid, my lord!
- LEONTES. To bide upon't: thou art not honest; or,
- If thou inclin'st that way, thou art a coward,
- Which hoxes honesty behind, restraining
- From course requir'd; or else thou must be counted
- A servant grafted in my serious trust,
- And therein negligent; or else a fool
- That seest a game play'd home, the rich stake drawn,
- And tak'st it all for jest.
- CAMILLO. My gracious lord,
- I may be negligent, foolish, and fearful:
- In every one of these no man is free
- But that his negligence, his folly, fear,
- Among the infinite doings of the world,
- Sometime puts forth. In your affairs, my lord,
- If ever I were wilfull-negligent,
- It was my folly; if industriously
- I play'd the fool, it was my negligence,
- Not weighing well the end; if ever fearful
- To do a thing where I the issue doubted,
- Whereof the execution did cry out
- Against the non-performance, 'twas a fear
- Which oft infects the wisest. These, my lord,
- Are such allow'd infirmities that honesty
- Is never free of. But, beseech your Grace,
- Be plainer with me; let me know my trespass
- By its own visage; if I then deny it,
- 'Tis none of mine.
- LEONTES. Ha' not you seen, Camillo-
- But that's past doubt; you have, or your eye-glass
- Is thicker than a cuckold's horn- or heard-
- For to a vision so apparent rumour
- Cannot be mute- or thought- for cogitation
- Resides not in that man that does not think-
- My wife is slippery? If thou wilt confess-
- Or else be impudently negative,
- To have nor eyes nor ears nor thought- then say
- My wife's a hobby-horse, deserves a name
- As rank as any flax-wench that puts to
- Before her troth-plight. Say't and justify't.
- CAMILLO. I would not be a stander-by to hear
- My sovereign mistress clouded so, without
- My present vengeance taken. Shrew my heart!
- You never spoke what did become you less
- Than this; which to reiterate were sin
- As deep as that, though true.
- LEONTES. Is whispering nothing?
- Is leaning cheek to cheek? Is meeting noses?
- Kissing with inside lip? Stopping the career
- Of laughter with a sigh?- a note infallible
- Of breaking honesty. Horsing foot on foot?
- Skulking in corners? Wishing clocks more swift;
- Hours, minutes; noon, midnight? And all eyes
- Blind with the pin and web but theirs, theirs only,
- That would unseen be wicked- is this nothing?
- Why, then the world and all that's in't is nothing;
- The covering sky is nothing; Bohemia nothing;
- My is nothing; nor nothing have these nothings,
- If this be nothing.
- CAMILLO. Good my lord, be cur'd
- Of this diseas'd opinion, and betimes;
- For 'tis most dangerous.
- LEONTES. Say it be, 'tis true.
- CAMILLO. No, no, my lord.
- LEONTES. It is; you lie, you lie.
- I say thou liest, Camillo, and I hate thee;
- Pronounce thee a gross lout, a mindless slave,
- Or else a hovering temporizer that
- Canst with thine eyes at once see good and evil,
- Inclining to them both. Were my wife's liver
- Infected as her life, she would not live
- The running of one glass.
- CAMILLO. Who does her?
- LEONTES. Why, he that wears her like her medal, hanging
- About his neck, Bohemia; who- if I
- Had servants true about me that bare eyes
- To see alike mine honour as their profits,
- Their own particular thrifts, they would do that
- Which should undo more doing. Ay, and thou,
- His cupbearer- whom I from meaner form
- Have bench'd and rear'd to worship; who mayst see,
- Plainly as heaven sees earth and earth sees heaven,
- How I am gall'd- mightst bespice a cup
- To give mine enemy a lasting wink;
- Which draught to me were cordial.
- CAMILLO. Sir, my lord,
- I could do this; and that with no rash potion,
- But with a ling'ring dram that should not work
- Maliciously like poison. But I cannot
- Believe this crack to be in my dread mistress,
- So sovereignly being honourable.
- I have lov'd thee-
- LEONTES. Make that thy question, and go rot!
- Dost think I am so muddy, so unsettled,
- To appoint myself in this vexation; sully
- The purity and whiteness of my sheets-
- Which to preserve is sleep, which being spotted
- Is goads, thorns, nettles, tails of wasps;
- Give scandal to the blood o' th' Prince, my son-
- Who I do think is mine, and love as mine-
- Without ripe moving to 't? Would I do this?
- Could man so blench?
- CAMILLO. I must believe you, sir.
- I do; and will fetch off Bohemia for't;
- Provided that, when he's remov'd, your Highness
- Will take again your queen as yours at first,
- Even for your son's sake; and thereby for sealing
- The injury of tongues in courts and kingdoms
- Known and allied to yours.
- LEONTES. Thou dost advise me
- Even so as I mine own course have set down.
- I'll give no blemish to her honour, none.
- CAMILLO. My lord,
- Go then; and with a countenance as clear
- As friendship wears at feasts, keep with Bohemia
- And with your queen. I am his cupbearer;
- If from me he have wholesome beverage,
- Account me not your servant.
- LEONTES. This is all:
- Do't, and thou hast the one half of my heart;
- Do't not, thou split'st thine own.
- CAMILLO. I'll do't, my lord.
- LEONTES. I will seem friendly, as thou hast advis'd me. Exit
- CAMILLO. O miserable lady! But, for me,
- What case stand I in? I must be the poisoner
- Of good Polixenes; and my ground to do't
- Is the obedience to a master; one
- Who, in rebellion with himself, will have
- All that are his so too. To do this deed,
- Promotion follows. If I could find example
- Of thousands that had struck anointed kings
- And flourish'd after, I'd not do't; but since
- Nor brass, nor stone, nor parchment, bears not one,
- Let villainy itself forswear't. I must
- Forsake the court. To do't, or no, is certain
- To me a break-neck. Happy star reign now!
- Here comes Bohemia.
-
- Enter POLIXENES
-
- POLIXENES. This is strange. Methinks
- My favour here begins to warp. Not speak?
- Good day, Camillo.
- CAMILLO. Hail, most royal sir!
- POLIXENES. What is the news i' th' court?
- CAMILLO. None rare, my lord.
- POLIXENES. The King hath on him such a countenance
- As he had lost some province, and a region
- Lov'd as he loves himself; even now I met him
- With customary compliment, when he,
- Wafting his eyes to th' contrary and falling
- A lip of much contempt, speeds from me;
- So leaves me to consider what is breeding
- That changes thus his manners.
- CAMILLO. I dare not know, my lord.
- POLIXENES. How, dare not! Do not. Do you know, and dare not
- Be intelligent to me? 'Tis thereabouts;
- For, to yourself, what you do know, you must,
- And cannot say you dare not. Good Camillo,
- Your chang'd complexions are to me a mirror
- Which shows me mine chang'd too; for I must be
- A party in this alteration, finding
- Myself thus alter'd with't.
- CAMILLO. There is a sickness
- Which puts some of us in distemper; but
- I cannot name the disease; and it is caught
- Of you that yet are well.
- POLIXENES. How! caught of me?
- Make me not sighted like the basilisk;
- I have look'd on thousands who have sped the better
- By my regard, but kill'd none so. Camillo-
- As you are certainly a gentleman; thereto
- Clerk-like experienc'd, which no less adorns
- Our gentry than our parents' noble names,
- In whose success we are gentle- I beseech you,
- If you know aught which does behove my knowledge
- Thereof to be inform'd, imprison't not
- In ignorant concealment.
- CAMILLO. I may not answer.
- POLIXENES. A sickness caught of me, and yet I well?
- I must be answer'd. Dost thou hear, Camillo?
- I conjure thee, by all the parts of man
- Which honour does acknowledge, whereof the least
- Is not this suit of mine, that thou declare
- What incidency thou dost guess of harm
- Is creeping toward me; how far off, how near;
- Which way to be prevented, if to be;
- If not, how best to bear it.
- CAMILLO. Sir, I will tell you;
- Since I am charg'd in honour, and by him
- That I think honourable. Therefore mark my counsel,
- Which must be ev'n as swiftly followed as
- I mean to utter it, or both yourself and me
- Cry lost, and so goodnight.
- POLIXENES. On, good Camillo.
- CAMILLO. I am appointed him to murder you.
- POLIXENES. By whom, Camillo?
- CAMILLO. By the King.
- POLIXENES. For what?
- CAMILLO. He thinks, nay, with all confidence he swears,
- As he had seen 't or been an instrument
- To vice you to't, that you have touch'd his queen
- Forbiddenly.
- POLIXENES. O, then my best blood turn
- To an infected jelly, and my name
- Be yok'd with his that did betray the Best!
- Turn then my freshest reputation to
- A savour that may strike the dullest nostril
- Where I arrive, and my approach be shunn'd,
- Nay, hated too, worse than the great'st infection
- That e'er was heard or read!
- CAMILLO. Swear his thought over
- By each particular star in heaven and
- By all their influences, you may as well
- Forbid the sea for to obey the moon
- As or by oath remove or counsel shake
- The fabric of his folly, whose foundation
- Is pil'd upon his faith and will continue
- The standing of his body.
- POLIXENES. How should this grow?
- CAMILLO. I know not; but I am sure 'tis safer to
- Avoid what's grown than question how 'tis born.
- If therefore you dare trust my honesty,
- That lies enclosed in this trunk which you
- Shall bear along impawn'd, away to-night.
- Your followers I will whisper to the business;
- And will, by twos and threes, at several posterns,
- Clear them o' th' city. For myself, I'll put
- My fortunes to your service, which are here
- By this discovery lost. Be not uncertain,
- For, by the honour of my parents, I
- Have utt'red truth; which if you seek to prove,
- I dare not stand by; nor shall you be safer
- Than one condemn'd by the King's own mouth, thereon
- His execution sworn.
- POLIXENES. I do believe thee:
- I saw his heart in's face. Give me thy hand;
- Be pilot to me, and thy places shall
- Still neighbour mine. My ships are ready, and
- My people did expect my hence departure
- Two days ago. This jealousy
- Is for a precious creature; as she's rare,
- Must it be great; and, as his person's mighty,
- Must it be violent; and as he does conceive
- He is dishonour'd by a man which ever
- Profess'd to him, why, his revenges must
- In that be made more bitter. Fear o'ershades me.
- Good expedition be my friend, and comfort
- The gracious Queen, part of this theme, but nothing
- Of his ill-ta'en suspicion! Come, Camillo;
- I will respect thee as a father, if
- Thou bear'st my life off hence. Let us avoid.
- CAMILLO. It is in mine authority to command
- The keys of all the posterns. Please your Highness
- To take the urgent hour. Come, sir, away. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
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-
-ACT II. SCENE I.
-Sicilia. The palace of LEONTES
-
-Enter HERMIONE, MAMILLIUS, and LADIES
-
- HERMIONE. Take the boy to you; he so troubles me,
- 'Tis past enduring.
- FIRST LADY. Come, my gracious lord,
- Shall I be your playfellow?
- MAMILLIUS. No, I'll none of you.
- FIRST LADY. Why, my sweet lord?
- MAMILLIUS. You'll kiss me hard, and speak to me as if
- I were a baby still. I love you better.
- SECOND LADY. And why so, my lord?
- MAMILLIUS. Not for because
- Your brows are blacker; yet black brows, they say,
- Become some women best; so that there be not
- Too much hair there, but in a semicircle
- Or a half-moon made with a pen.
- SECOND LADY. Who taught't this?
- MAMILLIUS. I learn'd it out of women's faces. Pray now,
- What colour are your eyebrows?
- FIRST LADY. Blue, my lord.
- MAMILLIUS. Nay, that's a mock. I have seen a lady's nose
- That has been blue, but not her eyebrows.
- FIRST LADY. Hark ye:
- The Queen your mother rounds apace. We shall
- Present our services to a fine new prince
- One of these days; and then you'd wanton with us,
- If we would have you.
- SECOND LADY. She is spread of late
- Into a goodly bulk. Good time encounter her!
- HERMIONE. What wisdom stirs amongst you? Come, sir, now
- I am for you again. Pray you sit by us,
- And tell's a tale.
- MAMILLIUS. Merry or sad shall't be?
- HERMIONE. As merry as you will.
- MAMILLIUS. A sad tale's best for winter. I have one
- Of sprites and goblins.
- HERMIONE. Let's have that, good sir.
- Come on, sit down; come on, and do your best
- To fright me with your sprites; you're pow'rfull at it.
- MAMILLIUS. There was a man-
- HERMIONE. Nay, come, sit down; then on.
- MAMILLIUS. Dwelt by a churchyard- I will tell it softly;
- Yond crickets shall not hear it.
- HERMIONE. Come on then,
- And give't me in mine ear.
-
- Enter LEONTES, ANTIGONUS, LORDS, and OTHERS
-
- LEONTES. he met there? his train? Camillo with him?
- FIRST LORD. Behind the tuft of pines I met them; never
- Saw I men scour so on their way. I ey'd them
- Even to their ships.
- LEONTES. How blest am I
- In my just censure, in my true opinion!
- Alack, for lesser knowledge! How accurs'd
- In being so blest! There may be in the cup
- A spider steep'd, and one may drink, depart,
- And yet partake no venom, for his knowledge
- Is not infected; but if one present
- Th' abhorr'd ingredient to his eye, make known
- How he hath drunk, he cracks his gorge, his sides,
- With violent hefts. I have drunk, and seen the spider.
- Camillo was his help in this, his pander.
- There is a plot against my life, my crown;
- All's true that is mistrusted. That false villain
- Whom I employ'd was pre-employ'd by him;
- He has discover'd my design, and I
- Remain a pinch'd thing; yea, a very trick
- For them to play at will. How came the posterns
- So easily open?
- FIRST LORD. By his great authority;
- Which often hath no less prevail'd than so
- On your command.
- LEONTES. I know't too well.
- Give me the boy. I am glad you did not nurse him;
- Though he does bear some signs of me, yet you
- Have too much blood in him.
- HERMIONE. What is this? Sport?
- LEONTES. Bear the boy hence; he shall not come about her;
- Away with him; and let her sport herself
- [MAMILLIUS is led out]
- With that she's big with- for 'tis Polixenes
- Has made thee swell thus.
- HERMIONE. But I'd say he had not,
- And I'll be sworn you would believe my saying,
- Howe'er you lean to th' nayward.
- LEONTES. You, my lords,
- Look on her, mark her well; be but about
- To say 'She is a goodly lady' and
- The justice of your hearts will thereto ad
- 'Tis pity she's not honest- honourable.'
- Praise her but for this her without-door form,
- Which on my faith deserves high speech, and straight
- The shrug, the hum or ha, these petty brands
- That calumny doth use- O, I am out!-
- That mercy does, for calumny will sear
- Virtue itself- these shrugs, these hum's and ha's,
- When you have said she's goodly, come between,
- Ere you can say she's honest. But be't known,
- From him that has most cause to grieve it should be,
- She's an adultress.
- HERMIONE. Should a villain say so,
- The most replenish'd villain in the world,
- He were as much more villain: you, my lord,
- Do but mistake.
- LEONTES. You have mistook, my lady,
- Polixenes for Leontes. O thou thing!
- Which I'll not call a creature of thy place,
- Lest barbarism, making me the precedent,
- Should a like language use to all degrees
- And mannerly distinguishment leave out
- Betwixt the prince and beggar. I have said
- She's an adultress; I have said with whom.
- More, she's a traitor; and Camillo is
- A federary with her, and one that knows
- What she should shame to know herself
- But with her most vile principal- that she's
- A bed-swerver, even as bad as those
- That vulgars give bold'st titles; ay, and privy
- To this their late escape.
- HERMIONE. No, by my life,
- Privy to none of this. How will this grieve you,
- When you shall come to clearer knowledge, that
- You thus have publish'd me! Gentle my lord,
- You scarce can right me throughly then to say
- You did mistake.
- LEONTES. No; if I mistake
- In those foundations which I build upon,
- The centre is not big enough to bear
- A school-boy's top. Away with her to prison.
- He who shall speak for her is afar off guilty
- But that he speaks.
- HERMIONE. There's some ill planet reigns.
- I must be patient till the heavens look
- With an aspect more favourable. Good my lords,
- I am not prone to weeping, as our sex
- Commonly are- the want of which vain dew
- Perchance shall dry your pities- but I have
- That honourable grief lodg'd here which burns
- Worse than tears drown. Beseech you all, my lords,
- With thoughts so qualified as your charities
- Shall best instruct you, measure me; and so
- The King's will be perform'd!
- LEONTES. [To the GUARD] Shall I be heard?
- HERMIONE. Who is't that goes with me? Beseech your highness
- My women may be with me, for you see
- My plight requires it. Do not weep, good fools;
- There is no cause; when you shall know your mistress
- Has deserv'd prison, then abound in tears
- As I come out: this action I now go on
- Is for my better grace. Adieu, my lord.
- I never wish'd to see you sorry; now
- I trust I shall. My women, come; you have leave.
- LEONTES. Go, do our bidding; hence!
- Exeunt HERMIONE, guarded, and LADIES
- FIRST LORD. Beseech your Highness, call the Queen again.
- ANTIGONUS. Be certain what you do, sir, lest your justice
- Prove violence, in the which three great ones suffer,
- Yourself, your queen, your son.
- FIRST LORD. For her, my lord,
- I dare my life lay down- and will do't, sir,
- Please you t' accept it- that the Queen is spotless
- I' th' eyes of heaven and to you- I mean
- In this which you accuse her.
- ANTIGONUS. If it prove
- She's otherwise, I'll keep my stables where
- I lodge my wife; I'll go in couples with her;
- Than when I feel and see her no farther trust her;
- For every inch of woman in the world,
- Ay, every dram of woman's flesh is false,
- If she be.
- LEONTES. Hold your peaces.
- FIRST LORD. Good my lord-
- ANTIGONUS. It is for you we speak, not for ourselves.
- You are abus'd, and by some putter-on
- That will be damn'd for't. Would I knew the villain!
- I would land-damn him. Be she honour-flaw'd-
- I have three daughters: the eldest is eleven;
- The second and the third, nine and some five;
- If this prove true, they'll pay for 't. By mine honour,
- I'll geld 'em all; fourteen they shall not see
- To bring false generations. They are co-heirs;
- And I had rather glib myself than they
- Should not produce fair issue.
- LEONTES. Cease; no more.
- You smell this business with a sense as cold
- As is a dead man's nose; but I do see't and feel't
- As you feel doing thus; and see withal
- The instruments that feel.
- ANTIGONUS. If it be so,
- We need no grave to bury honesty;
- There's not a grain of it the face to sweeten
- Of the whole dungy earth.
- LEONTES. What! Lack I credit?
- FIRST LORD. I had rather you did lack than I, my lord,
- Upon this ground; and more it would content me
- To have her honour true than your suspicion,
- Be blam'd for't how you might.
- LEONTES. Why, what need we
- Commune with you of this, but rather follow
- Our forceful instigation? Our prerogative
- Calls not your counsels; but our natural goodness
- Imparts this; which, if you- or stupified
- Or seeming so in skill- cannot or will not
- Relish a truth like us, inform yourselves
- We need no more of your advice. The matter,
- The loss, the gain, the ord'ring on't, is all
- Properly ours.
- ANTIGONUS. And I wish, my liege,
- You had only in your silent judgment tried it,
- Without more overture.
- LEONTES. How could that be?
- Either thou art most ignorant by age,
- Or thou wert born a fool. Camillo's flight,
- Added to their familiarity-
- Which was as gross as ever touch'd conjecture,
- That lack'd sight only, nought for approbation
- But only seeing, all other circumstances
- Made up to th' deed- doth push on this proceeding.
- Yet, for a greater confirmation-
- For, in an act of this importance, 'twere
- Most piteous to be wild- I have dispatch'd in post
- To sacred Delphos, to Apollo's temple,
- Cleomenes and Dion, whom you know
- Of stuff'd sufficiency. Now, from the oracle
- They will bring all, whose spiritual counsel had,
- Shall stop or spur me. Have I done well?
- FIRST LORD. Well done, my lord.
- LEONTES. Though I am satisfied, and need no more
- Than what I know, yet shall the oracle
- Give rest to th' minds of others such as he
- Whose ignorant credulity will not
- Come up to th' truth. So have we thought it good
- From our free person she should be confin'd,
- Lest that the treachery of the two fled hence
- Be left her to perform. Come, follow us;
- We are to speak in public; for this business
- Will raise us all.
- ANTIGONUS. [Aside] To laughter, as I take it,
- If the good truth were known.
- Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-Sicilia. A prison
-
-Enter PAULINA, a GENTLEMAN, and ATTENDANTS
-
- PAULINA. The keeper of the prison- call to him;
- Let him have knowledge who I am. Exit GENTLEMAN
- Good lady!
- No court in Europe is too good for thee;
- What dost thou then in prison?
-
- Re-enter GENTLEMAN with the GAOLER
-
- Now, good sir,
- You know me, do you not?
- GAOLER. For a worthy lady,
- And one who much I honour.
- PAULINA. Pray you, then,
- Conduct me to the Queen.
- GAOLER. I may not, madam;
- To the contrary I have express commandment.
- PAULINA. Here's ado, to lock up honesty and honour from
- Th' access of gentle visitors! Is't lawful, pray you,
- To see her women- any of them? Emilia?
- GAOLER. So please you, madam,
- To put apart these your attendants,
- Shall bring Emilia forth.
- PAULINA. I pray now, call her.
- Withdraw yourselves. Exeunt ATTENDANTS
- GAOLER. And, madam,
- I must be present at your conference.
- PAULINA. Well, be't so, prithee. Exit GAOLER
- Here's such ado to make no stain a stain
- As passes colouring.
-
- Re-enter GAOLER, with EMILIA
-
- Dear gentlewoman,
- How fares our gracious lady?
- EMILIA. As well as one so great and so forlorn
- May hold together. On her frights and griefs,
- Which never tender lady hath borne greater,
- She is, something before her time, deliver'd.
- PAULINA. A boy?
- EMILIA. A daughter, and a goodly babe,
- Lusty, and like to live. The Queen receives
- Much comfort in't; says 'My poor prisoner,
- I am as innocent as you.'
- PAULINA. I dare be sworn.
- These dangerous unsafe lunes i' th' King, beshrew them!
- He must be told on't, and he shall. The office
- Becomes a woman best; I'll take't upon me;
- If I prove honey-mouth'd, let my tongue blister,
- And never to my red-look'd anger be
- The trumpet any more. Pray you, Emilia,
- Commend my best obedience to the Queen;
- If she dares trust me with her little babe,
- I'll show't the King, and undertake to be
- Her advocate to th' loud'st. We do not know
- How he may soften at the sight o' th' child:
- The silence often of pure innocence
- Persuades when speaking fails.
- EMILIA. Most worthy madam,
- Your honour and your goodness is so evident
- That your free undertaking cannot miss
- A thriving issue; there is no lady living
- So meet for this great errand. Please your ladyship
- To visit the next room, I'll presently
- Acquaint the Queen of your most noble offer
- Who but to-day hammer'd of this design,
- But durst not tempt a minister of honour,
- Lest she should be denied.
- PAULINA. Tell her, Emilia,
- I'll use that tongue I have; if wit flow from't
- As boldness from my bosom, let't not be doubted
- I shall do good.
- EMILIA. Now be you blest for it!
- I'll to the Queen. Please you come something nearer.
- GAOLER. Madam, if't please the Queen to send the babe,
- I know not what I shall incur to pass it,
- Having no warrant.
- PAULINA. You need not fear it, sir.
- This child was prisoner to the womb, and is
- By law and process of great Nature thence
- Freed and enfranchis'd- not a party to
- The anger of the King, nor guilty of,
- If any be, the trespass of the Queen.
- GAOLER. I do believe it.
- PAULINA. Do not you fear. Upon mine honour, I
- Will stand betwixt you and danger. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-Sicilia. The palace of LEONTES
-
-Enter LEONTES, ANTIGONUS, LORDS, and SERVANTS
-
- LEONTES. Nor night nor day no rest! It is but weakness
- To bear the matter thus- mere weakness. If
- The cause were not in being- part o' th' cause,
- She, th' adultress; for the harlot king
- Is quite beyond mine arm, out of the blank
- And level of my brain, plot-proof; but she
- I can hook to me- say that she were gone,
- Given to the fire, a moiety of my rest
- Might come to me again. Who's there?
- FIRST SERVANT. My lord?
- LEONTES. How does the boy?
- FIRST SERVANT. He took good rest to-night;
- 'Tis hop'd his sickness is discharg'd.
- LEONTES. To see his nobleness!
- Conceiving the dishonour of his mother,
- He straight declin'd, droop'd, took it deeply,
- Fasten'd and fix'd the shame on't in himself,
- Threw off his spirit, his appetite, his sleep,
- And downright languish'd. Leave me solely. Go,
- See how he fares. [Exit SERVANT] Fie, fie! no thought of him!
- The very thought of my revenges that way
- Recoil upon me- in himself too mighty,
- And in his parties, his alliance. Let him be,
- Until a time may serve; for present vengeance,
- Take it on her. Camillo and Polixenes
- Laugh at me, make their pastime at my sorrow.
- They should not laugh if I could reach them; nor
- Shall she, within my pow'r.
-
- Enter PAULINA, with a CHILD
-
- FIRST LORD. You must not enter.
- PAULINA. Nay, rather, good my lords, be second to me.
- Fear you his tyrannous passion more, alas,
- Than the Queen's life? A gracious innocent soul,
- More free than he is jealous.
- ANTIGONUS. That's enough.
- SECOND SERVANT. Madam, he hath not slept to-night; commanded
- None should come at him.
- PAULINA. Not so hot, good sir;
- I come to bring him sleep. 'Tis such as you,
- That creep like shadows by him, and do sigh
- At each his needless heavings- such as you
- Nourish the cause of his awaking: I
- Do come with words as medicinal as true,
- Honest as either, to purge him of that humour
- That presses him from sleep.
- LEONTES. What noise there, ho?
- PAULINA. No noise, my lord; but needful conference
- About some gossips for your Highness.
- LEONTES. How!
- Away with that audacious lady! Antigonus,
- I charg'd thee that she should not come about me;
- I knew she would.
- ANTIGONUS. I told her so, my lord,
- On your displeasure's peril, and on mine,
- She should not visit you.
- LEONTES. What, canst not rule her?
- PAULINA. From all dishonesty he can: in this,
- Unless he take the course that you have done-
- Commit me for committing honour- trust it,
- He shall not rule me.
- ANTIGONUS. La you now, you hear!
- When she will take the rein, I let her run;
- But she'll not stumble.
- PAULINA. Good my liege, I come-
- And I beseech you hear me, who professes
- Myself your loyal servant, your physician,
- Your most obedient counsellor; yet that dares
- Less appear so, in comforting your evils,
- Than such as most seem yours- I say I come
- From your good Queen.
- LEONTES. Good Queen!
- PAULINA. Good Queen, my lord, good Queen- I say good Queen;
- And would by combat make her good, so were I
- A man, the worst about you.
- LEONTES. Force her hence.
- PAULINA. Let him that makes but trifles of his eyes
- First hand me. On mine own accord I'll off;
- But first I'll do my errand. The good Queen,
- For she is good, hath brought you forth a daughter;
- Here 'tis; commends it to your blessing.
- [Laying down the child]
- LEONTES. Out!
- A mankind witch! Hence with her, out o' door!
- A most intelligencing bawd!
- PAULINA. Not so.
- I am as ignorant in that as you
- In so entitling me; and no less honest
- Than you are mad; which is enough, I'll warrant,
- As this world goes, to pass for honest.
- LEONTES. Traitors!
- Will you not push her out? Give her the bastard.
- [To ANTIGONUS] Thou dotard, thou art woman-tir'd, unroosted
- By thy Dame Partlet here. Take up the bastard;
- Take't up, I say; give't to thy crone.
- PAULINA. For ever
- Unvenerable be thy hands, if thou
- Tak'st up the Princess by that forced baseness
- Which he has put upon't!
- LEONTES. He dreads his wife.
- PAULINA. So I would you did; then 'twere past all doubt
- You'd call your children yours.
- LEONTES. A nest of traitors!
- ANTIGONUS. I am none, by this good light.
- PAULINA. Nor I; nor any
- But one that's here; and that's himself; for he
- The sacred honour of himself, his Queen's,
- His hopeful son's, his babe's, betrays to slander,
- Whose sting is sharper than the sword's; and will not-
- For, as the case now stands, it is a curse
- He cannot be compell'd to 't- once remove
- The root of his opinion, which is rotten
- As ever oak or stone was sound.
- LEONTES. A callat
- Of boundless tongue, who late hath beat her husband,
- And now baits me! This brat is none of mine;
- It is the issue of Polixenes.
- Hence with it, and together with the dam
- Commit them to the fire.
- PAULINA. It is yours.
- And, might we lay th' old proverb to your charge,
- So like you 'tis the worse. Behold, my lords,
- Although the print be little, the whole matter
- And copy of the father- eye, nose, lip,
- The trick of's frown, his forehead; nay, the valley,
- The pretty dimples of his chin and cheek; his smiles;
- The very mould and frame of hand, nail, finger.
- And thou, good goddess Nature, which hast made it
- So like to him that got it, if thou hast
- The ordering of the mind too, 'mongst all colours
- No yellow in't, lest she suspect, as he does,
- Her children not her husband's!
- LEONTES. A gross hag!
- And, lozel, thou art worthy to be hang'd
- That wilt not stay her tongue.
- ANTIGONUS. Hang all the husbands
- That cannot do that feat, you'll leave yourself
- Hardly one subject.
- LEONTES. Once more, take her hence.
- PAULINA. A most unworthy and unnatural lord
- Can do no more.
- LEONTES. I'll ha' thee burnt.
- PAULINA. I care not.
- It is an heretic that makes the fire,
- Not she which burns in't. I'll not call you tyrant
- But this most cruel usage of your Queen-
- Not able to produce more accusation
- Than your own weak-hing'd fancy- something savours
- Of tyranny, and will ignoble make you,
- Yea, scandalous to the world.
- LEONTES. On your allegiance,
- Out of the chamber with her! Were I a tyrant,
- Where were her life? She durst not call me so,
- If she did know me one. Away with her!
- PAULINA. I pray you, do not push me; I'll be gone.
- Look to your babe, my lord; 'tis yours. Jove send her
- A better guiding spirit! What needs these hands?
- You that are thus so tender o'er his follies
- Will never do him good, not one of you.
- So, so. Farewell; we are gone. Exit
- LEONTES. Thou, traitor, hast set on thy wife to this.
- My child! Away with't. Even thou, that hast
- A heart so tender o'er it, take it hence,
- And see it instantly consum'd with fire;
- Even thou, and none but thou. Take it up straight.
- Within this hour bring me word 'tis done,
- And by good testimony, or I'll seize thy life,
- With that thou else call'st thine. If thou refuse,
- And wilt encounter with my wrath, say so;
- The bastard brains with these my proper hands
- Shall I dash out. Go, take it to the fire;
- For thou set'st on thy wife.
- ANTIGONUS. I did not, sir.
- These lords, my noble fellows, if they please,
- Can clear me in't.
- LORDS. We can. My royal liege,
- He is not guilty of her coming hither.
- LEONTES. You're liars all.
- FIRST LORD. Beseech your Highness, give us better credit.
- We have always truly serv'd you; and beseech
- So to esteem of us; and on our knees we beg,
- As recompense of our dear services
- Past and to come, that you do change this purpose,
- Which being so horrible, so bloody, must
- Lead on to some foul issue. We all kneel.
- LEONTES. I am a feather for each wind that blows.
- Shall I live on to see this bastard kneel
- And call me father? Better burn it now
- Than curse it then. But be it; let it live.
- It shall not neither. [To ANTIGONUS] You, Sir, come you hither.
- You that have been so tenderly officious
- With Lady Margery, your midwife there,
- To save this bastard's life- for 'tis a bastard,
- So sure as this beard's grey- what will you adventure
- To save this brat's life?
- ANTIGONUS. Anything, my lord,
- That my ability may undergo,
- And nobleness impose. At least, thus much:
- I'll pawn the little blood which I have left
- To save the innocent- anything possible.
- LEONTES. It shall be possible. Swear by this sword
- Thou wilt perform my bidding.
- ANTIGONUS. I will, my lord.
- LEONTES. Mark, and perform it- seest thou? For the fail
- Of any point in't shall not only be
- Death to thyself, but to thy lewd-tongu'd wife,
- Whom for this time we pardon. We enjoin thee,
- As thou art liegeman to us, that thou carry
- This female bastard hence; and that thou bear it
- To some remote and desert place, quite out
- Of our dominions; and that there thou leave it,
- Without more mercy, to it own protection
- And favour of the climate. As by strange fortune
- It came to us, I do in justice charge thee,
- On thy soul's peril and thy body's torture,
- That thou commend it strangely to some place
- Where chance may nurse or end it. Take it up.
- ANTIGONUS. I swear to do this, though a present death
- Had been more merciful. Come on, poor babe.
- Some powerful spirit instruct the kites and ravens
- To be thy nurses! Wolves and bears, they say,
- Casting their savageness aside, have done
- Like offices of pity. Sir, be prosperous
- In more than this deed does require! And blessing
- Against this cruelty fight on thy side,
- Poor thing, condemn'd to loss! Exit with the child
- LEONTES. No, I'll not rear
- Another's issue.
-
- Enter a SERVANT
-
- SERVANT. Please your Highness, posts
- From those you sent to th' oracle are come
- An hour since. Cleomenes and Dion,
- Being well arriv'd from Delphos, are both landed,
- Hasting to th' court.
- FIRST LORD. So please you, sir, their speed
- Hath been beyond account.
- LEONTES. Twenty-three days
- They have been absent; 'tis good speed; foretells
- The great Apollo suddenly will have
- The truth of this appear. Prepare you, lords;
- Summon a session, that we may arraign
- Our most disloyal lady; for, as she hath
- Been publicly accus'd, so shall she have
- A just and open trial. While she lives,
- My heart will be a burden to me. Leave me;
- And think upon my bidding. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-ACT III. SCENE I.
-Sicilia. On the road to the Capital
-
-Enter CLEOMENES and DION
-
- CLEOMENES. The climate's delicate, the air most sweet,
- Fertile the isle, the temple much surpassing
- The common praise it bears.
- DION. I shall report,
- For most it caught me, the celestial habits-
- Methinks I so should term them- and the reverence
- Of the grave wearers. O, the sacrifice!
- How ceremonious, solemn, and unearthly,
- It was i' th' off'ring!
- CLEOMENES. But of all, the burst
- And the ear-deaf'ning voice o' th' oracle,
- Kin to Jove's thunder, so surpris'd my sense
- That I was nothing.
- DION. If th' event o' th' journey
- Prove as successful to the Queen- O, be't so!-
- As it hath been to us rare, pleasant, speedy,
- The time is worth the use on't.
- CLEOMENES. Great Apollo
- Turn all to th' best! These proclamations,
- So forcing faults upon Hermione,
- I little like.
- DION. The violent carriage of it
- Will clear or end the business. When the oracle-
- Thus by Apollo's great divine seal'd up-
- Shall the contents discover, something rare
- Even then will rush to knowledge. Go; fresh horses.
- And gracious be the issue! Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-Sicilia. A court of justice
-
-Enter LEONTES, LORDS, and OFFICERS
-
- LEONTES. This sessions, to our great grief we pronounce,
- Even pushes 'gainst our heart- the party tried,
- The daughter of a king, our wife, and one
- Of us too much belov'd. Let us be clear'd
- Of being tyrannous, since we so openly
- Proceed in justice, which shall have due course,
- Even to the guilt or the purgation.
- Produce the prisoner.
- OFFICER. It is his Highness' pleasure that the Queen
- Appear in person here in court.
-
- Enter HERMIONE, as to her trial, PAULINA, and LADIES
-
- Silence!
- LEONTES. Read the indictment.
- OFFICER. [Reads] 'Hermione, Queen to the worthy Leontes, King of
- Sicilia, thou art here accused and arraigned of high treason, in
- committing adultery with Polixenes, King of Bohemia; and
- conspiring with Camillo to take away the life of our sovereign
- lord the King, thy royal husband: the pretence whereof being by
- circumstances partly laid open, thou, Hermione, contrary to the
- faith and allegiance of true subject, didst counsel and aid them,
- for their better safety, to fly away by night.'
- HERMIONE. Since what I am to say must be but that
- Which contradicts my accusation, and
- The testimony on my part no other
- But what comes from myself, it shall scarce boot me
- To say 'Not guilty.' Mine integrity
- Being counted falsehood shall, as I express it,
- Be so receiv'd. But thus- if pow'rs divine
- Behold our human actions, as they do,
- I doubt not then but innocence shall make
- False accusation blush, and tyranny
- Tremble at patience. You, my lord, best know-
- Who least will seem to do so- my past life
- Hath been as continent, as chaste, as true,
- As I am now unhappy; which is more
- Than history can pattern, though devis'd
- And play'd to take spectators; for behold me-
- A fellow of the royal bed, which owe
- A moiety of the throne, a great king's daughter,
- The mother to a hopeful prince- here standing
- To prate and talk for life and honour fore
- Who please to come and hear. For life, I prize it
- As I weigh grief, which I would spare; for honour,
- 'Tis a derivative from me to mine,
- And only that I stand for. I appeal
- To your own conscience, sir, before Polixenes
- Came to your court, how I was in your grace,
- How merited to be so; since he came,
- With what encounter so uncurrent I
- Have strain'd t' appear thus; if one jot beyond
- The bound of honour, or in act or will
- That way inclining, hard'ned be the hearts
- Of all that hear me, and my near'st of kin
- Cry fie upon my grave!
- LEONTES. I ne'er heard yet
- That any of these bolder vices wanted
- Less impudence to gainsay what they did
- Than to perform it first.
- HERMIONE. That's true enough;
- Though 'tis a saying, sir, not due to me.
- LEONTES. You will not own it.
- HERMIONE. More than mistress of
- Which comes to me in name of fault, I must not
- At all acknowledge. For Polixenes,
- With whom I am accus'd, I do confess
- I lov'd him as in honour he requir'd;
- With such a kind of love as might become
- A lady like me; with a love even such,
- So and no other, as yourself commanded;
- Which not to have done, I think had been in me
- Both disobedience and ingratitude
- To you and toward your friend; whose love had spoke,
- Ever since it could speak, from an infant, freely,
- That it was yours. Now for conspiracy:
- I know not how it tastes, though it be dish'd
- For me to try how; all I know of it
- Is that Camillo was an honest man;
- And why he left your court, the gods themselves,
- Wotting no more than I, are ignorant.
- LEONTES. You knew of his departure, as you know
- What you have underta'en to do in's absence.
- HERMIONE. Sir,
- You speak a language that I understand not.
- My life stands in the level of your dreams,
- Which I'll lay down.
- LEONTES. Your actions are my dreams.
- You had a bastard by Polixenes,
- And I but dream'd it. As you were past all shame-
- Those of your fact are so- so past all truth;
- Which to deny concerns more than avails; for as
- Thy brat hath been cast out, like to itself,
- No father owning it- which is indeed
- More criminal in thee than it- so thou
- Shalt feel our justice; in whose easiest passage
- Look for no less than death.
- HERMIONE. Sir, spare your threats.
- The bug which you would fright me with I seek.
- To me can life be no commodity.
- The crown and comfort of my life, your favour,
- I do give lost, for I do feel it gone,
- But know not how it went; my second joy
- And first fruits of my body, from his presence
- I am barr'd, like one infectious; my third comfort,
- Starr'd most unluckily, is from my breast-
- The innocent milk in it most innocent mouth-
- Hal'd out to murder; myself on every post
- Proclaim'd a strumpet; with immodest hatred
- The child-bed privilege denied, which 'longs
- To women of all fashion; lastly, hurried
- Here to this place, i' th' open air, before
- I have got strength of limit. Now, my liege,
- Tell me what blessings I have here alive
- That I should fear to die. Therefore proceed.
- But yet hear this- mistake me not: no life,
- I prize it not a straw, but for mine honour
- Which I would free- if I shall be condemn'd
- Upon surmises, all proofs sleeping else
- But what your jealousies awake, I tell you
- 'Tis rigour, and not law. Your honours all,
- I do refer me to the oracle:
- Apollo be my judge!
- FIRST LORD. This your request
- Is altogether just. Therefore, bring forth,
- And in Apollo's name, his oracle.
- Exeunt certain OFFICERS
- HERMIONE. The Emperor of Russia was my father;
- O that he were alive, and here beholding
- His daughter's trial! that he did but see
- The flatness of my misery; yet with eyes
- Of pity, not revenge!
-
- Re-enter OFFICERS, with CLEOMENES and DION
-
- OFFICER. You here shall swear upon this sword of justice
- That you, Cleomenes and Dion, have
- Been both at Delphos, and from thence have brought
- This seal'd-up oracle, by the hand deliver'd
- Of great Apollo's priest; and that since then
- You have not dar'd to break the holy seal
- Nor read the secrets in't.
- CLEOMENES, DION. All this we swear.
- LEONTES. Break up the seals and read.
- OFFICER. [Reads] 'Hermione is chaste; Polixenes blameless;
- Camillo a true subject; Leontes a jealous tyrant; his innocent
- babe truly begotten; and the King shall live without an heir, if
- that which is lost be not found.'
- LORDS. Now blessed be the great Apollo!
- HERMIONE. Praised!
- LEONTES. Hast thou read truth?
- OFFICER. Ay, my lord; even so
- As it is here set down.
- LEONTES. There is no truth at all i' th' oracle.
- The sessions shall proceed. This is mere falsehood.
-
- Enter a SERVANT
-
- SERVANT. My lord the King, the King!
- LEONTES. What is the business?
- SERVANT. O sir, I shall be hated to report it:
- The Prince your son, with mere conceit and fear
- Of the Queen's speed, is gone.
- LEONTES. How! Gone?
- SERVANT. Is dead.
- LEONTES. Apollo's angry; and the heavens themselves
- Do strike at my injustice. [HERMIONE swoons]
- How now, there!
- PAULINA. This news is mortal to the Queen. Look down
- And see what death is doing.
- LEONTES. Take her hence.
- Her heart is but o'ercharg'd; she will recover.
- I have too much believ'd mine own suspicion.
- Beseech you tenderly apply to her
- Some remedies for life.
- Exeunt PAULINA and LADIES with HERMIONE
- Apollo, pardon
- My great profaneness 'gainst thine oracle.
- I'll reconcile me to Polixenes,
- New woo my queen, recall the good Camillo-
- Whom I proclaim a man of truth, of mercy.
- For, being transported by my jealousies
- To bloody thoughts and to revenge, I chose
- Camillo for the minister to poison
- My friend Polixenes; which had been done
- But that the good mind of Camillo tardied
- My swift command, though I with death and with
- Reward did threaten and encourage him,
- Not doing it and being done. He, most humane
- And fill'd with honour, to my kingly guest
- Unclasp'd my practice, quit his fortunes here,
- Which you knew great, and to the certain hazard
- Of all incertainties himself commended,
- No richer than his honour. How he glisters
- Thorough my rust! And how his piety
- Does my deeds make the blacker!
-
- Re-enter PAULINA
-
- PAULINA. Woe the while!
- O, cut my lace, lest my heart, cracking it,
- Break too!
- FIRST LORD. What fit is this, good lady?
- PAULINA. What studied torments, tyrant, hast for me?
- What wheels, racks, fires? what flaying, boiling
- In leads or oils? What old or newer torture
- Must I receive, whose every word deserves
- To taste of thy most worst? Thy tyranny
- Together working with thy jealousies,
- Fancies too weak for boys, too green and idle
- For girls of nine- O, think what they have done,
- And then run mad indeed, stark mad; for all
- Thy by-gone fooleries were but spices of it.
- That thou betray'dst Polixenes, 'twas nothing;
- That did but show thee, of a fool, inconstant,
- And damnable ingrateful. Nor was't much
- Thou wouldst have poison'd good Camillo's honour,
- To have him kill a king- poor trespasses,
- More monstrous standing by; whereof I reckon
- The casting forth to crows thy baby daughter
- To be or none or little, though a devil
- Would have shed water out of fire ere done't;
- Nor is't directly laid to thee, the death
- Of the young Prince, whose honourable thoughts-
- Thoughts high for one so tender- cleft the heart
- That could conceive a gross and foolish sire
- Blemish'd his gracious dam. This is not, no,
- Laid to thy answer; but the last- O lords,
- When I have said, cry 'Woe!'- the Queen, the Queen,
- The sweet'st, dear'st creature's dead; and vengeance
- For't not dropp'd down yet.
- FIRST LORD. The higher pow'rs forbid!
- PAULINA. I say she's dead; I'll swear't. If word nor oath
- Prevail not, go and see. If you can bring
- Tincture or lustre in her lip, her eye,
- Heat outwardly or breath within, I'll serve you
- As I would do the gods. But, O thou tyrant!
- Do not repent these things, for they are heavier
- Than all thy woes can stir; therefore betake thee
- To nothing but despair. A thousand knees
- Ten thousand years together, naked, fasting,
- Upon a barren mountain, and still winter
- In storm perpetual, could not move the gods
- To look that way thou wert.
- LEONTES. Go on, go on.
- Thou canst not speak too much; I have deserv'd
- All tongues to talk their bitt'rest.
- FIRST LORD. Say no more;
- Howe'er the business goes, you have made fault
- I' th' boldness of your speech.
- PAULINA. I am sorry for't.
- All faults I make, when I shall come to know them.
- I do repent. Alas, I have show'd too much
- The rashness of a woman! He is touch'd
- To th' noble heart. What's gone and what's past help
- Should be past grief. Do not receive affliction
- At my petition; I beseech you, rather
- Let me be punish'd that have minded you
- Of what you should forget. Now, good my liege,
- Sir, royal sir, forgive a foolish woman.
- The love I bore your queen- lo, fool again!
- I'll speak of her no more, nor of your children;
- I'll not remember you of my own lord,
- Who is lost too. Take your patience to you,
- And I'll say nothing.
- LEONTES. Thou didst speak but well
- When most the truth; which I receive much better
- Than to be pitied of thee. Prithee, bring me
- To the dead bodies of my queen and son.
- One grave shall be for both. Upon them shall
- The causes of their death appear, unto
- Our shame perpetual. Once a day I'll visit
- The chapel where they lie; and tears shed there
- Shall be my recreation. So long as nature
- Will bear up with this exercise, so long
- I daily vow to use it. Come, and lead me
- To these sorrows. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-Bohemia. The sea-coast
-
-Enter ANTIGONUS with the CHILD, and a MARINER
-
- ANTIGONUS. Thou art perfect then our ship hath touch'd upon
- The deserts of Bohemia?
- MARINER. Ay, my lord, and fear
- We have landed in ill time; the skies look grimly
- And threaten present blusters. In my conscience,
- The heavens with that we have in hand are angry
- And frown upon 's.
- ANTIGONUS. Their sacred wills be done! Go, get aboard;
- Look to thy bark. I'll not be long before
- I call upon thee.
- MARINER. Make your best haste; and go not
- Too far i' th' land; 'tis like to be loud weather;
- Besides, this place is famous for the creatures
- Of prey that keep upon't.
- ANTIGONUS. Go thou away;
- I'll follow instantly.
- MARINER. I am glad at heart
- To be so rid o' th' business. Exit
- ANTIGONUS. Come, poor babe.
- I have heard, but not believ'd, the spirits o' th' dead
- May walk again. If such thing be, thy mother
- Appear'd to me last night; for ne'er was dream
- So like a waking. To me comes a creature,
- Sometimes her head on one side some another-
- I never saw a vessel of like sorrow,
- So fill'd and so becoming; in pure white robes,
- Like very sanctity, she did approach
- My cabin where I lay; thrice bow'd before me;
- And, gasping to begin some speech, her eyes
- Became two spouts; the fury spent, anon
- Did this break from her: 'Good Antigonus,
- Since fate, against thy better disposition,
- Hath made thy person for the thrower-out
- Of my poor babe, according to thine oath,
- Places remote enough are in Bohemia,
- There weep, and leave it crying; and, for the babe
- Is counted lost for ever, Perdita
- I prithee call't. For this ungentle business,
- Put on thee by my lord, thou ne'er shalt see
- Thy wife Paulina more.' so, with shrieks,
- She melted into air. Affrighted much,
- I did in time collect myself, and thought
- This was so and no slumber. Dreams are toys;
- Yet, for this once, yea, superstitiously,
- I will be squar'd by this. I do believe
- Hermione hath suffer'd death, and that
- Apollo would, this being indeed the issue
- Of King Polixenes, it should here be laid,
- Either for life or death, upon the earth
- Of its right father. Blossom, speed thee well!
- [Laying down the child]
- There lie, and there thy character; there these
- [Laying down a bundle]
- Which may, if fortune please, both breed thee, pretty,
- And still rest thine. The storm begins. Poor wretch,
- That for thy mother's fault art thus expos'd
- To loss and what may follow! Weep I cannot,
- But my heart bleeds; and most accurs'd am I
- To be by oath enjoin'd to this. Farewell!
- The day frowns more and more. Thou'rt like to have
- A lullaby too rough; I never saw
- The heavens so dim by day. [Noise of hunt within] A savage
- clamour!
- Well may I get aboard! This is the chase;
- I am gone for ever. Exit, pursued by a bear
-
- Enter an old SHEPHERD
-
- SHEPHERD. I would there were no age between ten and three and
- twenty, or that youth would sleep out the rest; for there is
- nothing in the between but getting wenches with child, wronging
- the ancientry, stealing, fighting- [Horns] Hark you now! Would
- any but these boil'd brains of nineteen and two and twenty hunt
- this weather? They have scar'd away two of my best sheep, which I
- fear the wolf will sooner find than the master. If any where I
- have them, 'tis by the sea-side, browsing of ivy. Good luck, an't
- be thy will! What have we here? [Taking up the child] Mercy
- on's, a barne! A very pretty barne. A boy or a child, I wonder? A
- pretty one; a very pretty one- sure, some scape. Though I am not
- bookish, yet I can read waiting-gentlewoman in the scape. This
- has been some stair-work, some trunk-work, some behind-door-work;
- they were warmer that got this than the poor thing is here. I'll
- take it up for pity; yet I'll tarry till my son come; he halloo'd
- but even now. Whoa-ho-hoa!
-
- Enter CLOWN
-
- CLOWN. Hilloa, loa!
- SHEPHERD. What, art so near? If thou'lt see a thing to talk on when
- thou art dead and rotten, come hither. What ail'st thou, man?
- CLOWN. I have seen two such sights, by sea and by land! But I am
- not to say it is a sea, for it is now the sky; betwixt the
- firmament and it you cannot thrust a bodkin's point.
- SHEPHERD. Why, boy, how is it?
- CLOWN. I would you did but see how it chafes, how it rages, how it
- takes up the shore! But that's not to the point. O, the most
- piteous cry of the poor souls! Sometimes to see 'em, and not to
- see 'em; now the ship boring the moon with her mainmast, and anon
- swallowed with yeast and froth, as you'd thrust a cork into a
- hogshead. And then for the land service- to see how the bear tore
- out his shoulder-bone; how he cried to me for help, and said his
- name was Antigonus, a nobleman! But to make an end of the ship-
- to see how the sea flap-dragon'd it; but first, how the poor
- souls roared, and the sea mock'd them; and how the poor gentleman
- roared, and the bear mock'd him, both roaring louder than the sea
- or weather.
- SHEPHERD. Name of mercy, when was this, boy?
- CLOWN. Now, now; I have not wink'd since I saw these sights; the
- men are not yet cold under water, nor the bear half din'd on the
- gentleman; he's at it now.
- SHEPHERD. Would I had been by to have help'd the old man!
- CLOWN. I would you had been by the ship-side, to have help'd her;
- there your charity would have lack'd footing.
- SHEPHERD. Heavy matters, heavy matters! But look thee here, boy.
- Now bless thyself; thou met'st with things dying, I with things
- new-born. Here's a sight for thee; look thee, a bearing-cloth for
- a squire's child! Look thee here; take up, take up, boy; open't.
- So, let's see- it was told me I should be rich by the fairies.
- This is some changeling. Open't. What's within, boy?
- CLOWN. You're a made old man; if the sins of your youth are
- forgiven you, you're well to live. Gold! all gold!
- SHEPHERD. This is fairy gold, boy, and 'twill prove so. Up with't,
- keep it close. Home, home, the next way! We are lucky, boy; and
- to be so still requires nothing but secrecy. Let my sheep go.
- Come, good boy, the next way home.
- CLOWN. Go you the next way with your findings. I'll go see if the
- bear be gone from the gentleman, and how much he hath eaten. They
- are never curst but when they are hungry. If there be any of him
- left, I'll bury it.
- SHEPHERD. That's a good deed. If thou mayest discern by that which
- is left of him what he is, fetch me to th' sight of him.
- CLOWN. Marry, will I; and you shall help to put him i' th' ground.
- SHEPHERD. 'Tis a lucky day, boy; and we'll do good deeds on't.
- Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
-PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
-PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
-COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
-SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
-
-
-
-ACT IV. SCENE I.
-
-Enter TIME, the CHORUS
-
- TIME. I, that please some, try all, both joy and terror
- Of good and bad, that makes and unfolds error,
- Now take upon me, in the name of Time,
- To use my wings. Impute it not a crime
- To me or my swift passage that I slide
- O'er sixteen years, and leave the growth untried
- Of that wide gap, since it is in my pow'r
- To o'erthrow law, and in one self-born hour
- To plant and o'erwhelm custom. Let me pass
- The same I am, ere ancient'st order was
- Or what is now receiv'd. I witness to
- The times that brought them in; so shall I do
- To th' freshest things now reigning, and make stale
- The glistering of this present, as my tale
- Now seems to it. Your patience this allowing,
- I turn my glass, and give my scene such growing
- As you had slept between. Leontes leaving-
- Th' effects of his fond jealousies so grieving
- That he shuts up himself- imagine me,
- Gentle spectators, that I now may be
- In fair Bohemia; and remember well
- I mention'd a son o' th' King's, which Florizel
- I now name to you; and with speed so pace
- To speak of Perdita, now grown in grace
- Equal with wond'ring. What of her ensues
- I list not prophesy; but let Time's news
- Be known when 'tis brought forth. A shepherd's daughter,
- And what to her adheres, which follows after,
- Is th' argument of Time. Of this allow,
- If ever you have spent time worse ere now;
- If never, yet that Time himself doth say
- He wishes earnestly you never may. Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-Bohemia. The palace of POLIXENES
-
-Enter POLIXENES and CAMILLO
-
- POLIXENES. I pray thee, good Camillo, be no more importunate: 'tis
- a sickness denying thee anything; a death to grant this.
- CAMILLO. It is fifteen years since I saw my country; though I have
- for the most part been aired abroad, I desire to lay my bones
- there. Besides, the penitent King, my master, hath sent for me;
- to whose feeling sorrows I might be some allay, or I o'erween to
- think so, which is another spur to my departure.
- POLIXENES. As thou lov'st me, Camillo, wipe not out the rest of thy
- services by leaving me now. The need I have of thee thine own
- goodness hath made. Better not to have had thee than thus to want
- thee; thou, having made me businesses which none without thee can
- sufficiently manage, must either stay to execute them thyself, or
- take away with thee the very services thou hast done; which if I
- have not enough considered- as too much I cannot- to be more
- thankful to thee shall be my study; and my profit therein the
- heaping friendships. Of that fatal country Sicilia, prithee,
- speak no more; whose very naming punishes me with the remembrance
- of that penitent, as thou call'st him, and reconciled king, my
- brother; whose loss of his most precious queen and children are
- even now to be afresh lamented. Say to me, when saw'st thou the
- Prince Florizel, my son? Kings are no less unhappy, their issue
- not being gracious, than they are in losing them when they have
- approved their virtues.
- CAMILLO. Sir, it is three days since I saw the Prince. What his
- happier affairs may be are to me unknown; but I have missingly
- noted he is of late much retired from court, and is less frequent
- to his princely exercises than formerly he hath appeared.
- POLIXENES. I have considered so much, Camillo, and with some care,
- so far that I have eyes under my service which look upon his
- removedness; from whom I have this intelligence, that he is
- seldom from the house of a most homely shepherd- a man, they say,
- that from very nothing, and beyond the imagination of his
- neighbours, is grown into an unspeakable estate.
- CAMILLO. I have heard, sir, of such a man, who hath a daughter of
- most rare note. The report of her is extended more than can be
- thought to begin from such a cottage.
- POLIXENES. That's likewise part of my intelligence; but, I fear, the
- angle that plucks our son thither. Thou shalt accompany us to the
- place; where we will, not appearing what we are, have some
- question with the shepherd; from whose simplicity I think it not
- uneasy to get the cause of my son's resort thither. Prithee be my
- present partner in this business, and lay aside the thoughts of
- Sicilia.
- CAMILLO. I willingly obey your command.
- POLIXENES. My best Camillo! We must disguise ourselves.
- Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-Bohemia. A road near the SHEPHERD'S cottage
-
-Enter AUTOLYCUS, singing
-
- When daffodils begin to peer,
- With heigh! the doxy over the dale,
- Why, then comes in the sweet o' the year,
- For the red blood reigns in the winter's pale.
-
- The white sheet bleaching on the hedge,
- With heigh! the sweet birds, O, how they sing!
- Doth set my pugging tooth on edge,
- For a quart of ale is a dish for a king.
-
- The lark, that tirra-lirra chants,
- With heigh! with heigh! the thrush and the jay,
- Are summer songs for me and my aunts,
- While we lie tumbling in the hay.
-
- I have serv'd Prince Florizel, and in my time wore three-pile;
- but now I am out of service.
-
- But shall I go mourn for that, my dear?
- The pale moon shines by night;
- And when I wander here and there,
- I then do most go right.
-
- If tinkers may have leave to live,
- And bear the sow-skin budget,
- Then my account I well may give
- And in the stocks avouch it.
-
- My traffic is sheets; when the kite builds, look to lesser linen.
- My father nam'd me Autolycus; who, being, I as am, litter'd under
- Mercury, was likewise a snapper-up of unconsidered trifles. With
- die and drab I purchas'd this caparison; and my revenue is the
- silly-cheat. Gallows and knock are too powerful on the highway;
- beating and hanging are terrors to me; for the life to come, I
- sleep out the thought of it. A prize! a prize!
-
- Enter CLOWN
-
- CLOWN. Let me see: every 'leven wether tods; every tod yields pound
- and odd shilling; fifteen hundred shorn, what comes the wool to?
- AUTOLYCUS. [Aside] If the springe hold, the cock's mine.
- CLOWN. I cannot do 't without counters. Let me see: what am I to
- buy for our sheep-shearing feast? Three pound of sugar, five
- pound of currants, rice- what will this sister of mine do with
- rice? But my father hath made her mistress of the feast, and she
- lays it on. She hath made me four and twenty nosegays for the
- shearers- three-man song-men all, and very good ones; but they
- are most of them means and bases; but one Puritan amongst them,
- and he sings psalms to hornpipes. I must have saffron to colour
- the warden pies; mace; dates- none, that's out of my note;
- nutmegs, seven; race or two of ginger, but that I may beg; four
- pound of prunes, and as many of raisins o' th' sun.
- AUTOLYCUS. [Grovelling on the ground] O that ever I was born!
- CLOWN. I' th' name of me!
- AUTOLYCUS. O, help me, help me! Pluck but off these rags; and then,
- death, death!
- CLOWN. Alack, poor soul! thou hast need of more rags to lay on
- thee, rather than have these off.
- AUTOLYCUS. O sir, the loathsomeness of them offend me more than the
- stripes I have received, which are mighty ones and millions.
- CLOWN. Alas, poor man! a million of beating may come to a great
- matter.
- AUTOLYCUS. I am robb'd, sir, and beaten; my money and apparel ta'en
- from me, and these detestable things put upon me.
- CLOWN. What, by a horseman or a footman?
- AUTOLYCUS. A footman, sweet sir, a footman.
- CLOWN. Indeed, he should be a footman, by the garments he has left
- with thee; if this be a horseman's coat, it hath seen very hot
- service. Lend me thy hand, I'll help thee. Come, lend me thy
- hand. [Helping him up]
- AUTOLYCUS. O, good sir, tenderly, O!
- CLOWN. Alas, poor soul!
- AUTOLYCUS. O, good sir, softly, good sir; I fear, sir, my shoulder
- blade is out.
- CLOWN. How now! Canst stand?
- AUTOLYCUS. Softly, dear sir [Picks his pocket]; good sir, softly.
- You ha' done me a charitable office.
- CLOWN. Dost lack any money? I have a little money for thee.
- AUTOLYCUS. No, good sweet sir; no, I beseech you, sir. I have a
- kinsman not past three quarters of a mile hence, unto whom I was
- going; I shall there have money or anything I want. Offer me no
- money, I pray you; that kills my heart.
- CLOWN. What manner of fellow was he that robb'd you?
- AUTOLYCUS. A fellow, sir, that I have known to go about with
- troll-my-dames; I knew him once a servant of the Prince. I cannot
- tell, good sir, for which of his virtues it was, but he was
- certainly whipt out of the court.
- CLOWN. His vices, you would say; there's no virtue whipt out of the
- court. They cherish it to make it stay there; and yet it will no
- more but abide.
- AUTOLYCUS. Vices, I would say, sir. I know this man well; he hath
- been since an ape-bearer; then a process-server, a bailiff; then
- he compass'd a motion of the Prodigal Son, and married a tinker's
- wife within a mile where my land and living lies; and, having
- flown over many knavish professions, he settled only in rogue.
- Some call him Autolycus.
- CLOWN. Out upon him! prig, for my life, prig! He haunts wakes,
- fairs, and bear-baitings.
- AUTOLYCUS. Very true, sir; he, sir, he; that's the rogue that put
- me into this apparel.
- CLOWN. Not a more cowardly rogue in all Bohemia; if you had but
- look'd big and spit at him, he'd have run.
- AUTOLYCUS. I must confess to you, sir, I am no fighter; I am false
- of heart that way, and that he knew, I warrant him.
- CLOWN. How do you now?
- AUTOLYCUS. Sweet sir, much better than I was; I can stand and walk.
- I will even take my leave of you and pace softly towards my
- kinsman's.
- CLOWN. Shall I bring thee on the way?
- AUTOLYCUS. No, good-fac'd sir; no, sweet sir.
- CLOWN. Then fare thee well. I must go buy spices for our
- sheep-shearing.
- AUTOLYCUS. Prosper you, sweet sir! Exit CLOWN
- Your purse is not hot enough to purchase your spice. I'll be with
- you at your sheep-shearing too. If I make not this cheat bring
- out another, and the shearers prove sheep, let me be unroll'd,
- and my name put in the book of virtue!
- [Sings]
- Jog on, jog on, the footpath way,
- And merrily hent the stile-a;
- A merry heart goes all the day,
- Your sad tires in a mile-a. Exit
-
-
-
-
-SCENE IV.
-Bohemia. The SHEPHERD'S cottage
-
-Enter FLORIZEL and PERDITA
-
- FLORIZEL. These your unusual weeds to each part of you
- Do give a life- no shepherdess, but Flora
- Peering in April's front. This your sheep-shearing
- Is as a meeting of the petty gods,
- And you the Queen on't.
- PERDITA. Sir, my gracious lord,
- To chide at your extremes it not becomes me-
- O, pardon that I name them! Your high self,
- The gracious mark o' th' land, you have obscur'd
- With a swain's wearing; and me, poor lowly maid,
- Most goddess-like prank'd up. But that our feasts
- In every mess have folly, and the feeders
- Digest it with a custom, I should blush
- To see you so attir'd; swoon, I think,
- To show myself a glass.
- FLORIZEL. I bless the time
- When my good falcon made her flight across
- Thy father's ground.
- PERDITA. Now Jove afford you cause!
- To me the difference forges dread; your greatness
- Hath not been us'd to fear. Even now I tremble
- To think your father, by some accident,
- Should pass this way, as you did. O, the Fates!
- How would he look to see his work, so noble,
- Vilely bound up? What would he say? Or how
- Should I, in these my borrowed flaunts, behold
- The sternness of his presence?
- FLORIZEL. Apprehend
- Nothing but jollity. The gods themselves,
- Humbling their deities to love, have taken
- The shapes of beasts upon them: Jupiter
- Became a bull and bellow'd; the green Neptune
- A ram and bleated; and the fire-rob'd god,
- Golden Apollo, a poor humble swain,
- As I seem now. Their transformations
- Were never for a piece of beauty rarer,
- Nor in a way so chaste, since my desires
- Run not before mine honour, nor my lusts
- Burn hotter than my faith.
- PERDITA. O, but, sir,
- Your resolution cannot hold when 'tis
- Oppos'd, as it must be, by th' pow'r of the King.
- One of these two must be necessities,
- Which then will speak, that you must change this purpose,
- Or I my life.
- FLORIZEL. Thou dearest Perdita,
- With these forc'd thoughts, I prithee, darken not
- The mirth o' th' feast. Or I'll be thine, my fair,
- Or not my father's; for I cannot be
- Mine own, nor anything to any, if
- I be not thine. To this I am most constant,
- Though destiny say no. Be merry, gentle;
- Strangle such thoughts as these with any thing
- That you behold the while. Your guests are coming.
- Lift up your countenance, as it were the day
- Of celebration of that nuptial which
- We two have sworn shall come.
- PERDITA. O Lady Fortune,
- Stand you auspicious!
- FLORIZEL. See, your guests approach.
- Address yourself to entertain them sprightly,
- And let's be red with mirth.
-
- Enter SHEPHERD, with POLIXENES and CAMILLO, disguised;
- CLOWN, MOPSA, DORCAS, with OTHERS
-
- SHEPHERD. Fie, daughter! When my old wife liv'd, upon
- This day she was both pantler, butler, cook;
- Both dame and servant; welcom'd all; serv'd all;
- Would sing her song and dance her turn; now here
- At upper end o' th' table, now i' th' middle;
- On his shoulder, and his; her face o' fire
- With labour, and the thing she took to quench it
- She would to each one sip. You are retired,
- As if you were a feasted one, and not
- The hostess of the meeting. Pray you bid
- These unknown friends to's welcome, for it is
- A way to make us better friends, more known.
- Come, quench your blushes, and present yourself
- That which you are, Mistress o' th' Feast. Come on,
- And bid us welcome to your sheep-shearing,
- As your good flock shall prosper.
- PERDITA. [To POLIXENES] Sir, welcome.
- It is my father's will I should take on me
- The hostess-ship o' th' day. [To CAMILLO]
- You're welcome, sir.
- Give me those flow'rs there, Dorcas. Reverend sirs,
- For you there's rosemary and rue; these keep
- Seeming and savour all the winter long.
- Grace and remembrance be to you both!
- And welcome to our shearing.
- POLIXENES. Shepherdess-
- A fair one are you- well you fit our ages
- With flow'rs of winter.
- PERDITA. Sir, the year growing ancient,
- Not yet on summer's death nor on the birth
- Of trembling winter, the fairest flow'rs o' th' season
- Are our carnations and streak'd gillyvors,
- Which some call nature's bastards. Of that kind
- Our rustic garden's barren; and I care not
- To get slips of them.
- POLIXENES. Wherefore, gentle maiden,
- Do you neglect them?
- PERDITA. For I have heard it said
- There is an art which in their piedness shares
- With great creating nature.
- POLIXENES. Say there be;
- Yet nature is made better by no mean
- But nature makes that mean; so over that art
- Which you say adds to nature, is an art
- That nature makes. You see, sweet maid, we marry
- A gentler scion to the wildest stock,
- And make conceive a bark of baser kind
- By bud of nobler race. This is an art
- Which does mend nature- change it rather; but
- The art itself is nature.
- PERDITA. So it is.
- POLIXENES. Then make your garden rich in gillyvors,
- And do not call them bastards.
- PERDITA. I'll not put
- The dibble in earth to set one slip of them;
- No more than were I painted I would wish
- This youth should say 'twere well, and only therefore
- Desire to breed by me. Here's flow'rs for you:
- Hot lavender, mints, savory, marjoram;
- The marigold, that goes to bed wi' th' sun,
- And with him rises weeping; these are flow'rs
- Of middle summer, and I think they are given
- To men of middle age. Y'are very welcome.
- CAMILLO. I should leave grazing, were I of your flock,
- And only live by gazing.
- PERDITA. Out, alas!
- You'd be so lean that blasts of January
- Would blow you through and through. Now, my fair'st friend,
- I would I had some flow'rs o' th' spring that might
- Become your time of day- and yours, and yours,
- That wear upon your virgin branches yet
- Your maidenheads growing. O Proserpina,
- From the flowers now that, frighted, thou let'st fall
- From Dis's waggon!- daffodils,
- That come before the swallow dares, and take
- The winds of March with beauty; violets, dim
- But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes
- Or Cytherea's breath; pale primroses,
- That die unmarried ere they can behold
- Bright Phoebus in his strength- a malady
- Most incident to maids; bold oxlips, and
- The crown-imperial; lilies of all kinds,
- The flow'r-de-luce being one. O, these I lack
- To make you garlands of, and my sweet friend
- To strew him o'er and o'er!
- FLORIZEL. What, like a corse?
- PERDITA. No; like a bank for love to lie and play on;
- Not like a corse; or if- not to be buried,
- But quick, and in mine arms. Come, take your flow'rs.
- Methinks I play as I have seen them do
- In Whitsun pastorals. Sure, this robe of mine
- Does change my disposition.
- FLORIZEL. What you do
- Still betters what is done. When you speak, sweet,
- I'd have you do it ever. When you sing,
- I'd have you buy and sell so; so give alms;
- Pray so; and, for the ord'ring your affairs,
- To sing them too. When you do dance, I wish you
- A wave o' th' sea, that you might ever do
- Nothing but that; move still, still so,
- And own no other function. Each your doing,
- So singular in each particular,
- Crowns what you are doing in the present deeds,
- That all your acts are queens.
- PERDITA. O Doricles,
- Your praises are too large. But that your youth,
- And the true blood which peeps fairly through't,
- Do plainly give you out an unstain'd shepherd,
- With wisdom I might fear, my Doricles,
- You woo'd me the false way.
- FLORIZEL. I think you have
- As little skill to fear as I have purpose
- To put you to't. But, come; our dance, I pray.
- Your hand, my Perdita; so turtles pair
- That never mean to part.
- PERDITA. I'll swear for 'em.
- POLIXENES. This is the prettiest low-born lass that ever
- Ran on the green-sward; nothing she does or seems
- But smacks of something greater than herself,
- Too noble for this place.
- CAMILLO. He tells her something
- That makes her blood look out. Good sooth, she is
- The queen of curds and cream.
- CLOWN. Come on, strike up.
- DORCAS. Mopsa must be your mistress; marry, garlic,
- To mend her kissing with!
- MOPSA. Now, in good time!
- CLOWN. Not a word, a word; we stand upon our manners.
- Come, strike up. [Music]
-
- Here a dance Of SHEPHERDS and SHEPHERDESSES
-
- POLIXENES. Pray, good shepherd, what fair swain is this
- Which dances with your daughter?
- SHEPHERD. They call him Doricles, and boasts himself
- To have a worthy feeding; but I have it
- Upon his own report, and I believe it:
- He looks like sooth. He says he loves my daughter;
- I think so too; for never gaz'd the moon
- Upon the water as he'll stand and read,
- As 'twere my daughter's eyes; and, to be plain,
- I think there is not half a kiss to choose
- Who loves another best.
- POLIXENES. She dances featly.
- SHEPHERD. So she does any thing; though I report it
- That should be silent. If young Doricles
- Do light upon her, she shall bring him that
- Which he not dreams of.
-
- Enter a SERVANT
-
- SERVANT. O master, if you did but hear the pedlar at the door, you
- would never dance again after a tabor and pipe; no, the bagpipe
- could not move you. He sings several tunes faster than you'll
- tell money; he utters them as he had eaten ballads, and all men's
- ears grew to his tunes.
- CLOWN. He could never come better; he shall come in. I love a
- ballad but even too well, if it be doleful matter merrily set
- down, or a very pleasant thing indeed and sung lamentably.
- SERVANT. He hath songs for man or woman of all sizes; no milliner
- can so fit his customers with gloves. He has the prettiest
- love-songs for maids; so without bawdry, which is strange; with
- such delicate burdens of dildos and fadings, 'jump her and thump
- her'; and where some stretch-mouth'd rascal would, as it were,
- mean mischief, and break a foul gap into the matter, he makes the
- maid to answer 'Whoop, do me no harm, good man'- puts him off,
- slights him, with 'Whoop, do me no harm, good man.'
- POLIXENES. This is a brave fellow.
- CLOWN. Believe me, thou talkest of an admirable conceited fellow.
- Has he any unbraided wares?
- SERVANT. He hath ribbons of all the colours i' th' rainbow; points,
- more than all the lawyers in Bohemia can learnedly handle, though
- they come to him by th' gross; inkles, caddisses, cambrics,
- lawns. Why he sings 'em over as they were gods or goddesses; you
- would think a smock were she-angel, he so chants to the
- sleeve-hand and the work about the square on't.
- CLOWN. Prithee bring him in; and let him approach singing.
- PERDITA. Forewarn him that he use no scurrilous words in's tunes.
- Exit SERVANT
- CLOWN. You have of these pedlars that have more in them than you'd
- think, sister.
- PERDITA. Ay, good brother, or go about to think.
-
- Enter AUTOLYCUS, Singing
-
- Lawn as white as driven snow;
- Cypress black as e'er was crow;
- Gloves as sweet as damask roses;
- Masks for faces and for noses;
- Bugle bracelet, necklace amber,
- Perfume for a lady's chamber;
- Golden quoifs and stomachers,
- For my lads to give their dears;
- Pins and poking-sticks of steel-
- What maids lack from head to heel.
- Come, buy of me, come; come buy, come buy;
- Buy, lads, or else your lasses cry.
- Come, buy.
-
- CLOWN. If I were not in love with Mopsa, thou shouldst take no
- money of me; but being enthrall'd as I am, it will also be the
- bondage of certain ribbons and gloves.
- MOPSA. I was promis'd them against the feast; but they come not too
- late now.
- DORCAS. He hath promis'd you more than that, or there be liars.
- MOPSA. He hath paid you all he promis'd you. May be he has paid you
- more, which will shame you to give him again.
- CLOWN. Is there no manners left among maids? Will they wear their
- plackets where they should bear their faces? Is there not
- milking-time, when you are going to bed, or kiln-hole, to whistle
- off these secrets, but you must be tittle-tattling before all our
- guests? 'Tis well they are whisp'ring. Clammer your tongues, and
- not a word more.
- MOPSA. I have done. Come, you promis'd me a tawdry-lace, and a pair
- of sweet gloves.
- CLOWN. Have I not told thee how I was cozen'd by the way, and lost
- all my money?
- AUTOLYCUS. And indeed, sir, there are cozeners abroad; therefore it
- behoves men to be wary.
- CLOWN. Fear not thou, man; thou shalt lose nothing here.
- AUTOLYCUS. I hope so, sir; for I have about me many parcels of
- charge.
- CLOWN. What hast here? Ballads?
- MOPSA. Pray now, buy some. I love a ballad in print a-life, for
- then we are sure they are true.
- AUTOLYCUS. Here's one to a very doleful tune: how a usurer's wife
- was brought to bed of twenty money-bags at a burden, and how she
- long'd to eat adders' heads and toads carbonado'd.
- MOPSA. Is it true, think you?
- AUTOLYCUS. Very true, and but a month old.
- DORCAS. Bless me from marrying a usurer!
- AUTOLYCUS. Here's the midwife's name to't, one Mistress Taleporter,
- and five or six honest wives that were present. Why should I
- carry lies abroad?
- MOPSA. Pray you now, buy it.
- CLOWN. Come on, lay it by; and let's first see moe ballads; we'll
- buy the other things anon.
- AUTOLYCUS. Here's another ballad, of a fish that appeared upon the
- coast on Wednesday the fourscore of April, forty thousand fathom
- above water, and sung this ballad against the hard hearts of
- maids. It was thought she was a woman, and was turn'd into a cold
- fish for she would not exchange flesh with one that lov'd her.
- The ballad is very pitiful, and as true.
- DORCAS. Is it true too, think you?
- AUTOLYCUS. Five justices' hands at it; and witnesses more than my
- pack will hold.
- CLOWN. Lay it by too. Another.
- AUTOLYCUS. This is a merry ballad, but a very pretty one.
- MOPSA. Let's have some merry ones.
- AUTOLYCUS. Why, this is a passing merry one, and goes to the tune
- of 'Two maids wooing a man.' There's scarce a maid westward but
- she sings it; 'tis in request, I can tell you.
- MOPSA. can both sing it. If thou'lt bear a part, thou shalt hear;
- 'tis in three parts.
- DORCAS. We had the tune on't a month ago.
- AUTOLYCUS. I can bear my part; you must know 'tis my occupation.
- Have at it with you.
-
- SONG
-
- AUTOLYCUS. Get you hence, for I must go
- Where it fits not you to know.
- DORCAS. Whither?
- MOPSA. O, whither?
- DORCAS. Whither?
- MOPSA. It becomes thy oath full well
- Thou to me thy secrets tell.
- DORCAS. Me too! Let me go thither
- MOPSA. Or thou goest to th' grange or mill.
- DORCAS. If to either, thou dost ill.
- AUTOLYCUS. Neither.
- DORCAS. What, neither?
- AUTOLYCUS. Neither.
- DORCAS. Thou hast sworn my love to be.
- MOPSA. Thou hast sworn it more to me.
- Then whither goest? Say, whither?
-
- CLOWN. We'll have this song out anon by ourselves; my father and
- the gentlemen are in sad talk, and we'll not trouble them. Come,
- bring away thy pack after me. Wenches, I'll buy for you both.
- Pedlar, let's have the first choice. Follow me, girls.
- Exit with DORCAS and MOPSA
- AUTOLYCUS. And you shall pay well for 'em.
- Exit AUTOLYCUS, Singing
-
- Will you buy any tape,
- Or lace for your cape,
- My dainty duck, my dear-a?
- Any silk, any thread,
- Any toys for your head,
- Of the new'st and fin'st, fin'st wear-a?
- Come to the pedlar;
- Money's a meddler
- That doth utter all men's ware-a.
-
- Re-enter SERVANT
-
- SERVANT. Master, there is three carters, three shepherds, three
- neat-herds, three swineherds, that have made themselves all men
- of hair; they call themselves Saltiers, and they have dance which
- the wenches say is a gallimaufry of gambols, because they are not
- in't; but they themselves are o' th' mind, if it be not too rough
- for some that know little but bowling, it will please
- plentifully.
- SHEPHERD. Away! We'll none on't; here has been too much homely
- foolery already. I know, sir, we weary you.
- POLIXENES. You weary those that refresh us. Pray, let's see these
- four threes of herdsmen.
- SERVANT. One three of them, by their own report, sir, hath danc'd
- before the King; and not the worst of the three but jumps twelve
- foot and a half by th' squier.
- SHEPHERD. Leave your prating; since these good men are pleas'd, let
- them come in; but quickly now.
- SERVANT. Why, they stay at door, sir. Exit
-
- Here a dance of twelve SATYRS
-
- POLIXENES. [To SHEPHERD] O, father, you'll know more of that
- hereafter.
- [To CAMILLO] Is it not too far gone? 'Tis time to part them.
- He's simple and tells much. [To FLORIZEL] How now, fair
- shepherd!
- Your heart is full of something that does take
- Your mind from feasting. Sooth, when I was young
- And handed love as you do, I was wont
- To load my she with knacks; I would have ransack'd
- The pedlar's silken treasury and have pour'd it
- To her acceptance: you have let him go
- And nothing marted with him. If your lass
- Interpretation should abuse and call this
- Your lack of love or bounty, you were straited
- For a reply, at least if you make a care
- Of happy holding her.
- FLORIZEL. Old sir, I know
- She prizes not such trifles as these are.
- The gifts she looks from me are pack'd and lock'd
- Up in my heart, which I have given already,
- But not deliver'd. O, hear me breathe my life
- Before this ancient sir, whom, it should seem,
- Hath sometime lov'd. I take thy hand- this hand,
- As soft as dove's down and as white as it,
- Or Ethiopian's tooth, or the fann'd snow that's bolted
- By th' northern blasts twice o'er.
- POLIXENES. What follows this?
- How prettily the young swain seems to wash
- The hand was fair before! I have put you out.
- But to your protestation; let me hear
- What you profess.
- FLORIZEL. Do, and be witness to't.
- POLIXENES. And this my neighbour too?
- FLORIZEL. And he, and more
- Than he, and men- the earth, the heavens, and all:
- That, were I crown'd the most imperial monarch,
- Thereof most worthy, were I the fairest youth
- That ever made eye swerve, had force and knowledge
- More than was ever man's, I would not prize them
- Without her love; for her employ them all;
- Commend them and condemn them to her service
- Or to their own perdition.
- POLIXENES. Fairly offer'd.
- CAMILLO. This shows a sound affection.
- SHEPHERD. But, my daughter,
- Say you the like to him?
- PERDITA. I cannot speak
- So well, nothing so well; no, nor mean better.
- By th' pattern of mine own thoughts I cut out
- The purity of his.
- SHEPHERD. Take hands, a bargain!
- And, friends unknown, you shall bear witness to't:
- I give my daughter to him, and will make
- Her portion equal his.
- FLORIZEL. O, that must be
- I' th' virtue of your daughter. One being dead,
- I shall have more than you can dream of yet;
- Enough then for your wonder. But come on,
- Contract us fore these witnesses.
- SHEPHERD. Come, your hand;
- And, daughter, yours.
- POLIXENES. Soft, swain, awhile, beseech you;
- Have you a father?
- FLORIZEL. I have, but what of him?
- POLIXENES. Knows he of this?
- FLORIZEL. He neither does nor shall.
- POLIXENES. Methinks a father
- Is at the nuptial of his son a guest
- That best becomes the table. Pray you, once more,
- Is not your father grown incapable
- Of reasonable affairs? Is he not stupid
- With age and alt'ring rheums? Can he speak, hear,
- Know man from man, dispute his own estate?
- Lies he not bed-rid, and again does nothing
- But what he did being childish?
- FLORIZEL. No, good sir;
- He has his health, and ampler strength indeed
- Than most have of his age.
- POLIXENES. By my white beard,
- You offer him, if this be so, a wrong
- Something unfilial. Reason my son
- Should choose himself a wife; but as good reason
- The father- all whose joy is nothing else
- But fair posterity- should hold some counsel
- In such a business.
- FLORIZEL. I yield all this;
- But, for some other reasons, my grave sir,
- Which 'tis not fit you know, I not acquaint
- My father of this business.
- POLIXENES. Let him know't.
- FLORIZEL. He shall not.
- POLIXENES. Prithee let him.
- FLORIZEL. No, he must not.
- SHEPHERD. Let him, my son; he shall not need to grieve
- At knowing of thy choice.
- FLORIZEL. Come, come, he must not.
- Mark our contract.
- POLIXENES. [Discovering himself] Mark your divorce, young sir,
- Whom son I dare not call; thou art too base
- To be acknowledg'd- thou a sceptre's heir,
- That thus affects a sheep-hook! Thou, old traitor,
- I am sorry that by hanging thee I can but
- Shorten thy life one week. And thou, fresh piece
- Of excellent witchcraft, who of force must know
- The royal fool thou cop'st with-
- SHEPHERD. O, my heart!
- POLIXENES. I'll have thy beauty scratch'd with briers and made
- More homely than thy state. For thee, fond boy,
- If I may ever know thou dost but sigh
- That thou no more shalt see this knack- as never
- I mean thou shalt- we'll bar thee from succession;
- Not hold thee of our blood, no, not our kin,
- Farre than Deucalion off. Mark thou my words.
- Follow us to the court. Thou churl, for this time,
- Though full of our displeasure, yet we free thee
- From the dead blow of it. And you, enchantment,
- Worthy enough a herdsman- yea, him too
- That makes himself, but for our honour therein,
- Unworthy thee- if ever henceforth thou
- These rural latches to his entrance open,
- Or hoop his body more with thy embraces,
- I will devise a death as cruel for thee
- As thou art tender to't. Exit
- PERDITA. Even here undone!
- I was not much afeard; for once or twice
- I was about to speak and tell him plainly
- The self-same sun that shines upon his court
- Hides not his visage from our cottage, but
- Looks on alike. [To FLORIZEL] Will't please you, sir, be gone?
- I told you what would come of this. Beseech you,
- Of your own state take care. This dream of mine-
- Being now awake, I'll queen it no inch farther,
- But milk my ewes and weep.
- CAMILLO. Why, how now, father!
- Speak ere thou diest.
- SHEPHERD. I cannot speak nor think,
- Nor dare to know that which I know. [To FLORIZEL] O sir,
- You have undone a man of fourscore-three
- That thought to fill his grave in quiet, yea,
- To die upon the bed my father died,
- To lie close by his honest bones; but now
- Some hangman must put on my shroud and lay me
- Where no priest shovels in dust. [To PERDITA] O cursed wretch,
- That knew'st this was the Prince, and wouldst adventure
- To mingle faith with him!- Undone, undone!
- If I might die within this hour, I have liv'd
- To die when I desire. Exit
- FLORIZEL. Why look you so upon me?
- I am but sorry, not afeard; delay'd,
- But nothing alt'red. What I was, I am:
- More straining on for plucking back; not following
- My leash unwillingly.
- CAMILLO. Gracious, my lord,
- You know your father's temper. At this time
- He will allow no speech- which I do guess
- You do not purpose to him- and as hardly
- Will he endure your sight as yet, I fear;
- Then, till the fury of his Highness settle,
- Come not before him.
- FLORIZEL. I not purpose it.
- I think Camillo?
- CAMILLO. Even he, my lord.
- PERDITA. How often have I told you 'twould be thus!
- How often said my dignity would last
- But till 'twere known!
- FLORIZEL. It cannot fail but by
- The violation of my faith; and then
- Let nature crush the sides o' th' earth together
- And mar the seeds within! Lift up thy looks.
- From my succession wipe me, father; I
- Am heir to my affection.
- CAMILLO. Be advis'd.
- FLORIZEL. I am- and by my fancy; if my reason
- Will thereto be obedient, I have reason;
- If not, my senses, better pleas'd with madness,
- Do bid it welcome.
- CAMILLO. This is desperate, sir.
- FLORIZEL. So call it; but it does fulfil my vow:
- I needs must think it honesty. Camillo,
- Not for Bohemia, nor the pomp that may
- Be thereat glean'd, for all the sun sees or
- The close earth wombs, or the profound seas hides
- In unknown fathoms, will I break my oath
- To this my fair belov'd. Therefore, I pray you,
- As you have ever been my father's honour'd friend,
- When he shall miss me- as, in faith, I mean not
- To see him any more- cast your good counsels
- Upon his passion. Let myself and Fortune
- Tug for the time to come. This you may know,
- And so deliver: I am put to sea
- With her who here I cannot hold on shore.
- And most opportune to her need I have
- A vessel rides fast by, but not prepar'd
- For this design. What course I mean to hold
- Shall nothing benefit your knowledge, nor
- Concern me the reporting.
- CAMILLO. O my lord,
- I would your spirit were easier for advice.
- Or stronger for your need.
- FLORIZEL. Hark, Perdita. [Takes her aside]
- [To CAMILLO] I'll hear you by and by.
- CAMILLO. He's irremovable,
- Resolv'd for flight. Now were I happy if
- His going I could frame to serve my turn,
- Save him from danger, do him love and honour,
- Purchase the sight again of dear Sicilia
- And that unhappy king, my master, whom
- I so much thirst to see.
- FLORIZEL. Now, good Camillo,
- I am so fraught with curious business that
- I leave out ceremony.
- CAMILLO. Sir, I think
- You have heard of my poor services i' th' love
- That I have borne your father?
- FLORIZEL. Very nobly
- Have you deserv'd. It is my father's music
- To speak your deeds; not little of his care
- To have them recompens'd as thought on.
- CAMILLO. Well, my lord,
- If you may please to think I love the King,
- And through him what's nearest to him, which is
- Your gracious self, embrace but my direction.
- If your more ponderous and settled project
- May suffer alteration, on mine honour,
- I'll point you where you shall have such receiving
- As shall become your Highness; where you may
- Enjoy your mistress, from the whom, I see,
- There's no disjunction to be made but by,
- As heavens forfend! your ruin- marry her;
- And with my best endeavours in your absence
- Your discontenting father strive to qualify,
- And bring him up to liking.
- FLORIZEL. How, Camillo,
- May this, almost a miracle, be done?
- That I may call thee something more than man,
- And after that trust to thee.
- CAMILLO. Have you thought on
- A place whereto you'll go?
- FLORIZEL. Not any yet;
- But as th' unthought-on accident is guilty
- To what we wildly do, so we profess
- Ourselves to be the slaves of chance and flies
- Of every wind that blows.
- CAMILLO. Then list to me.
- This follows, if you will not change your purpose
- But undergo this flight: make for Sicilia,
- And there present yourself and your fair princess-
- For so, I see, she must be- fore Leontes.
- She shall be habited as it becomes
- The partner of your bed. Methinks I see
- Leontes opening his free arms and weeping
- His welcomes forth; asks thee there 'Son, forgiveness!'
- As 'twere i' th' father's person; kisses the hands
- Of your fresh princess; o'er and o'er divides him
- 'Twixt his unkindness and his kindness- th' one
- He chides to hell, and bids the other grow
- Faster than thought or time.
- FLORIZEL. Worthy Camillo,
- What colour for my visitation shall I
- Hold up before him?
- CAMILLO. Sent by the King your father
- To greet him and to give him comforts. Sir,
- The manner of your bearing towards him, with
- What you as from your father shall deliver,
- Things known betwixt us three, I'll write you down;
- The which shall point you forth at every sitting
- What you must say, that he shall not perceive
- But that you have your father's bosom there
- And speak his very heart.
- FLORIZEL. I am bound to you.
- There is some sap in this.
- CAMILLO. A course more promising
- Than a wild dedication of yourselves
- To unpath'd waters, undream'd shores, most certain
- To miseries enough; no hope to help you,
- But as you shake off one to take another;
- Nothing so certain as your anchors, who
- Do their best office if they can but stay you
- Where you'll be loath to be. Besides, you know
- Prosperity's the very bond of love,
- Whose fresh complexion and whose heart together
- Affliction alters.
- PERDITA. One of these is true:
- I think affliction may subdue the cheek,
- But not take in the mind.
- CAMILLO. Yea, say you so?
- There shall not at your father's house these seven years
- Be born another such.
- FLORIZEL. My good Camillo,
- She is as forward of her breeding as
- She is i' th' rear o' our birth.
- CAMILLO. I cannot say 'tis pity
- She lacks instructions, for she seems a mistress
- To most that teach.
- PERDITA. Your pardon, sir; for this
- I'll blush you thanks.
- FLORIZEL. My prettiest Perdita!
- But, O, the thorns we stand upon! Camillo-
- Preserver of my father, now of me;
- The medicine of our house- how shall we do?
- We are not furnish'd like Bohemia's son;
- Nor shall appear in Sicilia.
- CAMILLO. My lord,
- Fear none of this. I think you know my fortunes
- Do all lie there. It shall be so my care
- To have you royally appointed as if
- The scene you play were mine. For instance, sir,
- That you may know you shall not want- one word.
- [They talk aside]
-
- Re-enter AUTOLYCUS
-
- AUTOLYCUS. Ha, ha! what a fool Honesty is! and Trust, his sworn
- brother, a very simple gentleman! I have sold all my trumpery;
- not a counterfeit stone, not a ribbon, glass, pomander, brooch,
- table-book, ballad, knife, tape, glove, shoe-tie, bracelet,
- horn-ring, to keep my pack from fasting. They throng who should
- buy first, as if my trinkets had been hallowed and brought a
- benediction to the buyer; by which means I saw whose purse was
- best in picture; and what I saw, to my good use I rememb'red. My
- clown, who wants but something to be a reasonable man, grew so in
- love with the wenches' song that he would not stir his pettitoes
- till he had both tune and words, which so drew the rest of the
- herd to me that all their other senses stuck in ears. You might
- have pinch'd a placket, it was senseless; 'twas nothing to geld a
- codpiece of a purse; I would have fil'd keys off that hung in
- chains. No hearing, no feeling, but my sir's song, and admiring
- the nothing of it. So that in this time of lethargy I pick'd and
- cut most of their festival purses; and had not the old man come
- in with whoobub against his daughter and the King's son and
- scar'd my choughs from the chaff, I had not left a purse alive in
- the whole army.
-
- CAMILLO, FLORIZEL, and PERDITA come forward
-
- CAMILLO. Nay, but my letters, by this means being there
- So soon as you arrive, shall clear that doubt.
- FLORIZEL. And those that you'll procure from King Leontes?
- CAMILLO. Shall satisfy your father.
- PERDITA. Happy be you!
- All that you speak shows fair.
- CAMILLO. [seeing AUTOLYCUS] Who have we here?
- We'll make an instrument of this; omit
- Nothing may give us aid.
- AUTOLYCUS. [Aside] If they have overheard me now- why, hanging.
- CAMILLO. How now, good fellow! Why shak'st thou so?
- Fear not, man; here's no harm intended to thee.
- AUTOLYCUS. I am a poor fellow, sir.
- CAMILLO. Why, be so still; here's nobody will steal that from thee.
- Yet for the outside of thy poverty we must make an exchange;
- therefore discase thee instantly- thou must think there's a
- necessity in't- and change garments with this gentleman. Though
- the pennyworth on his side be the worst, yet hold thee, there's
- some boot. [Giving money]
- AUTOLYCUS. I am a poor fellow, sir. [Aside] I know ye well
- enough.
- CAMILLO. Nay, prithee dispatch. The gentleman is half flay'd
- already.
- AUTOLYCUS. Are you in camest, sir? [Aside] I smell the trick
- on't.
- FLORIZEL. Dispatch, I prithee.
- AUTOLYCUS. Indeed, I have had earnest; but I cannot with conscience
- take it.
- CAMILLO. Unbuckle, unbuckle.
-
- FLORIZEL and AUTOLYCUS exchange garments
-
- Fortunate mistress- let my prophecy
- Come home to ye!- you must retire yourself
- Into some covert; take your sweetheart's hat
- And pluck it o'er your brows, muffle your face,
- Dismantle you, and, as you can, disliken
- The truth of your own seeming, that you may-
- For I do fear eyes over- to shipboard
- Get undescried.
- PERDITA. I see the play so lies
- That I must bear a part.
- CAMILLO. No remedy.
- Have you done there?
- FLORIZEL. Should I now meet my father,
- He would not call me son.
- CAMILLO. Nay, you shall have no hat.
- [Giving it to PERDITA]
- Come, lady, come. Farewell, my friend.
- AUTOLYCUS. Adieu, sir.
- FLORIZEL. O Perdita, what have we twain forgot!
- Pray you a word. [They converse apart]
- CAMILLO. [Aside] What I do next shall be to tell the King
- Of this escape, and whither they are bound;
- Wherein my hope is I shall so prevail
- To force him after; in whose company
- I shall re-view Sicilia, for whose sight
- I have a woman's longing.
- FLORIZEL. Fortune speed us!
- Thus we set on, Camillo, to th' sea-side.
- CAMILLO. The swifter speed the better.
- Exeunt FLORIZEL, PERDITA, and CAMILLO
- AUTOLYCUS. I understand the business, I hear it. To have an open
- ear, a quick eye, and a nimble hand, is necessary for a
- cut-purse; a good nose is requisite also, to smell out work for
- th' other senses. I see this is the time that the unjust man doth
- thrive. What an exchange had this been without boot! What a boot
- is here with this exchange! Sure, the gods do this year connive
- at us, and we may do anything extempore. The Prince himself is
- about a piece of iniquity- stealing away from his father with his
- clog at his heels. If I thought it were a piece of honesty to
- acquaint the King withal, I would not do't. I hold it the more
- knavery to conceal it; and therein am I constant to my
- profession.
-
- Re-enter CLOWN and SHEPHERD
-
- Aside, aside- here is more matter for a hot brain. Every lane's
- end, every shop, church, session, hanging, yields a careful man
- work.
- CLOWN. See, see; what a man you are now! There is no other way but
- to tell the King she's a changeling and none of your flesh and
- blood.
- SHEPHERD. Nay, but hear me.
- CLOWN. Nay- but hear me.
- SHEPHERD. Go to, then.
- CLOWN. She being none of your flesh and blood, your flesh and blood
- has not offended the King; and so your flesh and blood is not to
- be punish'd by him. Show those things you found about her, those
- secret things- all but what she has with her. This being done,
- let the law go whistle; I warrant you.
- SHEPHERD. I will tell the King all, every word- yea, and his son's
- pranks too; who, I may say, is no honest man, neither to his
- father nor to me, to go about to make me the King's
- brother-in-law.
- CLOWN. Indeed, brother-in-law was the farthest off you could have
- been to him; and then your blood had been the dearer by I know
- how much an ounce.
- AUTOLYCUS. [Aside] Very wisely, puppies!
- SHEPHERD. Well, let us to the King. There is that in this fardel
- will make him scratch his beard.
- AUTOLYCUS. [Aside] I know not what impediment this complaint may
- be to the flight of my master.
- CLOWN. Pray heartily he be at palace.
- AUTOLYCUS. [Aside] Though I am not naturally honest, I am so
- sometimes by chance. Let me pocket up my pedlar's excrement.
- [Takes off his false beard] How now, rustics! Whither are you
- bound?
- SHEPHERD. To th' palace, an it like your worship.
- AUTOLYCUS. Your affairs there, what, with whom, the condition of
- that fardel, the place of your dwelling, your names, your ages,
- of what having, breeding, and anything that is fitting to be
- known- discover.
- CLOWN. We are but plain fellows, sir.
- AUTOLYCUS. A lie: you are rough and hairy. Let me have no lying; it
- becomes none but tradesmen, and they often give us soldiers the
- lie; but we pay them for it with stamped coin, not stabbing
- steel; therefore they do not give us the lie.
- CLOWN. Your worship had like to have given us one, if you had not
- taken yourself with the manner.
- SHEPHERD. Are you a courtier, an't like you, sir?
- AUTOLYCUS. Whether it like me or no, I am a courtier. Seest thou
- not the air of the court in these enfoldings? Hath not my gait in
- it the measure of the court? Receives not thy nose court-odour
- from me? Reflect I not on thy baseness court-contempt? Think'st
- thou, for that I insinuate, that toaze from thee thy business, I
- am therefore no courtier? I am courtier cap-a-pe, and one that
- will either push on or pluck back thy business there; whereupon I
- command the to open thy affair.
- SHEPHERD. My business, sir, is to the King.
- AUTOLYCUS. What advocate hast thou to him?
- SHEPHERD. I know not, an't like you.
- CLOWN. Advocate's the court-word for a pheasant; say you have none.
- SHEPHERD. None, sir; I have no pheasant, cock nor hen.
- AUTOLYCUS. How blessed are we that are not simple men!
- Yet nature might have made me as these are,
- Therefore I will not disdain.
- CLOWN. This cannot be but a great courtier.
- SHEPHERD. His garments are rich, but he wears them not handsomely.
- CLOWN. He seems to be the more noble in being fantastical.
- A great man, I'll warrant; I know by the picking on's teeth.
- AUTOLYCUS. The fardel there? What's i' th' fardel? Wherefore that
- box?
- SHEPHERD. Sir, there lies such secrets in this fardel and box which
- none must know but the King; and which he shall know within this
- hour, if I may come to th' speech of him.
- AUTOLYCUS. Age, thou hast lost thy labour.
- SHEPHERD. Why, Sir?
- AUTOLYCUS. The King is not at the palace; he is gone aboard a new
- ship to purge melancholy and air himself; for, if thou be'st
- capable of things serious, thou must know the King is full of
- grief.
- SHEPHERD. So 'tis said, sir- about his son, that should have
- married a shepherd's daughter.
- AUTOLYCUS. If that shepherd be not in hand-fast, let him fly; the
- curses he shall have, the tortures he shall feel, will break the
- back of man, the heart of monster.
- CLOWN. Think you so, sir?
- AUTOLYCUS. Not he alone shall suffer what wit can make heavy and
- vengeance bitter; but those that are germane to him, though
- remov'd fifty times, shall all come under the hangman- which,
- though it be great pity, yet it is necessary. An old
- sheep-whistling rogue, a ram-tender, to offer to have his
- daughter come into grace! Some say he shall be ston'd; but that
- death is too soft for him, say I. Draw our throne into a
- sheep-cote!- all deaths are too few, the sharpest too easy.
- CLOWN. Has the old man e'er a son, sir, do you hear, an't like you,
- sir?
- AUTOLYCUS. He has a son- who shall be flay'd alive; then 'nointed
- over with honey, set on the head of a wasp's nest; then stand
- till he be three quarters and a dram dead; then recover'd again
- with aqua-vitae or some other hot infusion; then, raw as he is,
- and in the hottest day prognostication proclaims, shall he be set
- against a brick wall, the sun looking with a southward eye upon
- him, where he is to behold him with flies blown to death. But
- what talk we of these traitorly rascals, whose miseries are to be
- smil'd at, their offences being so capital? Tell me, for you seem
- to be honest plain men, what you have to the King. Being
- something gently consider'd, I'll bring you where he is aboard,
- tender your persons to his presence, whisper him in your behalfs;
- and if it be in man besides the King to effect your suits, here
- is man shall do it.
- CLOWN. He seems to be of great authority. Close with him, give him
- gold; and though authority be a stubborn bear, yet he is oft led
- by the nose with gold. Show the inside of your purse to the
- outside of his hand, and no more ado. Remember- ston'd and flay'd
- alive.
- SHEPHERD. An't please you, sir, to undertake the business for us,
- here is that gold I have. I'll make it as much more, and leave
- this young man in pawn till I bring it you.
- AUTOLYCUS. After I have done what I promised?
- SHEPHERD. Ay, sir.
- AUTOLYCUS. Well, give me the moiety. Are you a party in this
- business?
- CLOWN. In some sort, sir; but though my case be a pitiful one, I
- hope I shall not be flay'd out of it.
- AUTOLYCUS. O, that's the case of the shepherd's son! Hang him,
- he'll be made an example.
- CLOWN. Comfort, good comfort! We must to the King and show our
- strange sights. He must know 'tis none of your daughter nor my
- sister; we are gone else. Sir, I will give you as much as this
- old man does, when the business is performed; and remain, as he
- says, your pawn till it be brought you.
- AUTOLYCUS. I will trust you. Walk before toward the sea-side; go on
- the right-hand; I will but look upon the hedge, and follow you.
- CLOWN. We are blest in this man, as I may say, even blest.
- SHEPHERD. Let's before, as he bids us. He was provided to do us
- good. Exeunt SHEPHERD and CLOWN
- AUTOLYCUS. If I had a mind to be honest, I see Fortune would not
- suffer me: she drops booties in my mouth. I am courted now with a
- double occasion- gold, and a means to do the Prince my master
- good; which who knows how that may turn back to my advancement? I
- will bring these two moles, these blind ones, aboard him. If he
- think it fit to shore them again, and that the complaint they
- have to the King concerns him nothing, let him call me rogue for
- being so far officious; for I am proof against that title, and
- what shame else belongs to't. To him will I present them. There
- may be matter in it. Exit
-
-
-
-
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-
-
-ACT V. SCENE I.
-Sicilia. The palace of LEONTES
-
-Enter LEONTES, CLEOMENES, DION, PAULINA, and OTHERS
-
- CLEOMENES. Sir, you have done enough, and have perform'd
- A saint-like sorrow. No fault could you make
- Which you have not redeem'd; indeed, paid down
- More penitence than done trespass. At the last,
- Do as the heavens have done: forget your evil;
- With them forgive yourself.
- LEONTES. Whilst I remember
- Her and her virtues, I cannot forget
- My blemishes in them, and so still think of
- The wrong I did myself; which was so much
- That heirless it hath made my kingdom, and
- Destroy'd the sweet'st companion that e'er man
- Bred his hopes out of.
- PAULINA. True, too true, my lord.
- If, one by one, you wedded all the world,
- Or from the all that are took something good
- To make a perfect woman, she you kill'd
- Would be unparallel'd.
- LEONTES. I think so. Kill'd!
- She I kill'd! I did so; but thou strik'st me
- Sorely, to say I did. It is as bitter
- Upon thy tongue as in my thought. Now, good now,
- Say so but seldom.
- CLEOMENES. Not at all, good lady.
- You might have spoken a thousand things that would
- Have done the time more benefit, and grac'd
- Your kindness better.
- PAULINA. You are one of those
- Would have him wed again.
- DION. If you would not so,
- You pity not the state, nor the remembrance
- Of his most sovereign name; consider little
- What dangers, by his Highness' fail of issue,
- May drop upon his kingdom and devour
- Incertain lookers-on. What were more holy
- Than to rejoice the former queen is well?
- What holier than, for royalty's repair,
- For present comfort, and for future good,
- To bless the bed of majesty again
- With a sweet fellow to't?
- PAULINA. There is none worthy,
- Respecting her that's gone. Besides, the gods
- Will have fulfill'd their secret purposes;
- For has not the divine Apollo said,
- Is't not the tenour of his oracle,
- That King Leontes shall not have an heir
- Till his lost child be found? Which that it shall,
- Is all as monstrous to our human reason
- As my Antigonus to break his grave
- And come again to me; who, on my life,
- Did perish with the infant. 'Tis your counsel
- My lord should to the heavens be contrary,
- Oppose against their wills. [To LEONTES] Care not for issue;
- The crown will find an heir. Great Alexander
- Left his to th' worthiest; so his successor
- Was like to be the best.
- LEONTES. Good Paulina,
- Who hast the memory of Hermione,
- I know, in honour, O that ever I
- Had squar'd me to thy counsel! Then, even now,
- I might have look'd upon my queen's full eyes,
- Have taken treasure from her lips-
- PAULINA. And left them
- More rich for what they yielded.
- LEONTES. Thou speak'st truth.
- No more such wives; therefore, no wife. One worse,
- And better us'd, would make her sainted spirit
- Again possess her corpse, and on this stage,
- Where we offend her now, appear soul-vex'd,
- And begin 'Why to me'-
- PAULINA. Had she such power,
- She had just cause.
- LEONTES. She had; and would incense me
- To murder her I married.
- PAULINA. I should so.
- Were I the ghost that walk'd, I'd bid you mark
- Her eye, and tell me for what dull part in't
- You chose her; then I'd shriek, that even your ears
- Should rift to hear me; and the words that follow'd
- Should be 'Remember mine.'
- LEONTES. Stars, stars,
- And all eyes else dead coals! Fear thou no wife;
- I'll have no wife, Paulina.
- PAULINA. Will you swear
- Never to marry but by my free leave?
- LEONTES. Never, Paulina; so be blest my spirit!
- PAULINA. Then, good my lords, bear witness to his oath.
- CLEOMENES. You tempt him over-much.
- PAULINA. Unless another,
- As like Hermione as is her picture,
- Affront his eye.
- CLEOMENES. Good madam-
- PAULINA. I have done.
- Yet, if my lord will marry- if you will, sir,
- No remedy but you will- give me the office
- To choose you a queen. She shall not be so young
- As was your former; but she shall be such
- As, walk'd your first queen's ghost, it should take joy
- To see her in your arms.
- LEONTES. My true Paulina,
- We shall not marry till thou bid'st us.
- PAULINA. That
- Shall be when your first queen's again in breath;
- Never till then.
-
- Enter a GENTLEMAN
-
- GENTLEMAN. One that gives out himself Prince Florizel,
- Son of Polixenes, with his princess- she
- The fairest I have yet beheld- desires access
- To your high presence.
- LEONTES. What with him? He comes not
- Like to his father's greatness. His approach,
- So out of circumstance and sudden, tells us
- 'Tis not a visitation fram'd, but forc'd
- By need and accident. What train?
- GENTLEMAN. But few,
- And those but mean.
- LEONTES. His princess, say you, with him?
- GENTLEMAN. Ay; the most peerless piece of earth, I think,
- That e'er the sun shone bright on.
- PAULINA. O Hermione,
- As every present time doth boast itself
- Above a better gone, so must thy grave
- Give way to what's seen now! Sir, you yourself
- Have said and writ so, but your writing now
- Is colder than that theme: 'She had not been,
- Nor was not to be equall'd.' Thus your verse
- Flow'd with her beauty once; 'tis shrewdly ebb'd,
- To say you have seen a better.
- GENTLEMAN. Pardon, madam.
- The one I have almost forgot- your pardon;
- The other, when she has obtain'd your eye,
- Will have your tongue too. This is a creature,
- Would she begin a sect, might quench the zeal
- Of all professors else, make proselytes
- Of who she but bid follow.
- PAULINA. How! not women?
- GENTLEMAN. Women will love her that she is a woman
- More worth than any man; men, that she is
- The rarest of all women.
- LEONTES. Go, Cleomenes;
- Yourself, assisted with your honour'd friends,
- Bring them to our embracement. Exeunt
- Still, 'tis strange
- He thus should steal upon us.
- PAULINA. Had our prince,
- Jewel of children, seen this hour, he had pair'd
- Well with this lord; there was not full a month
- Between their births.
- LEONTES. Prithee no more; cease. Thou know'st
- He dies to me again when talk'd of. Sure,
- When I shall see this gentleman, thy speeches
- Will bring me to consider that which may
- Unfurnish me of reason.
-
- Re-enter CLEOMENES, with FLORIZEL, PERDITA, and
- ATTENDANTS
-
- They are come.
- Your mother was most true to wedlock, Prince;
- For she did print your royal father off,
- Conceiving you. Were I but twenty-one,
- Your father's image is so hit in you
- His very air, that I should call you brother,
- As I did him, and speak of something wildly
- By us perform'd before. Most dearly welcome!
- And your fair princess- goddess! O, alas!
- I lost a couple that 'twixt heaven and earth
- Might thus have stood begetting wonder as
- You, gracious couple, do. And then I lost-
- All mine own folly- the society,
- Amity too, of your brave father, whom,
- Though bearing misery, I desire my life
- Once more to look on him.
- FLORIZEL. By his command
- Have I here touch'd Sicilia, and from him
- Give you all greetings that a king, at friend,
- Can send his brother; and, but infirmity,
- Which waits upon worn times, hath something seiz'd
- His wish'd ability, he had himself
- The lands and waters 'twixt your throne and his
- Measur'd, to look upon you; whom he loves,
- He bade me say so, more than all the sceptres
- And those that bear them living.
- LEONTES. O my brother-
- Good gentleman!- the wrongs I have done thee stir
- Afresh within me; and these thy offices,
- So rarely kind, are as interpreters
- Of my behind-hand slackness! Welcome hither,
- As is the spring to th' earth. And hath he too
- Expos'd this paragon to th' fearful usage,
- At least ungentle, of the dreadful Neptune,
- To greet a man not worth her pains, much less
- Th' adventure of her person?
- FLORIZEL. Good, my lord,
- She came from Libya.
- LEONTES. Where the warlike Smalus,
- That noble honour'd lord, is fear'd and lov'd?
- FLORIZEL. Most royal sir, from thence; from him whose daughter
- His tears proclaim'd his, parting with her; thence,
- A prosperous south-wind friendly, we have cross'd,
- To execute the charge my father gave me
- For visiting your Highness. My best train
- I have from your Sicilian shores dismiss'd;
- Who for Bohemia bend, to signify
- Not only my success in Libya, sir,
- But my arrival and my wife's in safety
- Here where we are.
- LEONTES. The blessed gods
- Purge all infection from our air whilst you
- Do climate here! You have a holy father,
- A graceful gentleman, against whose person,
- So sacred as it is, I have done sin,
- For which the heavens, taking angry note,
- Have left me issueless; and your father's blest,
- As he from heaven merits it, with you,
- Worthy his goodness. What might I have been,
- Might I a son and daughter now have look'd on,
- Such goodly things as you!
-
- Enter a LORD
-
- LORD. Most noble sir,
- That which I shall report will bear no credit,
- Were not the proof so nigh. Please you, great sir,
- Bohemia greets you from himself by me;
- Desires you to attach his son, who has-
- His dignity and duty both cast off-
- Fled from his father, from his hopes, and with
- A shepherd's daughter.
- LEONTES. Where's Bohemia? Speak.
- LORD. Here in your city; I now came from him.
- I speak amazedly; and it becomes
- My marvel and my message. To your court
- Whiles he was hast'ning- in the chase, it seems,
- Of this fair couple- meets he on the way
- The father of this seeming lady and
- Her brother, having both their country quitted
- With this young prince.
- FLORIZEL. Camillo has betray'd me;
- Whose honour and whose honesty till now
- Endur'd all weathers.
- LORD. Lay't so to his charge;
- He's with the King your father.
- LEONTES. Who? Camillo?
- LORD. Camillo, sir; I spake with him; who now
- Has these poor men in question. Never saw I
- Wretches so quake. They kneel, they kiss the earth;
- Forswear themselves as often as they speak.
- Bohemia stops his ears, and threatens them
- With divers deaths in death.
- PERDITA. O my poor father!
- The heaven sets spies upon us, will not have
- Our contract celebrated.
- LEONTES. You are married?
- FLORIZEL. We are not, sir, nor are we like to be;
- The stars, I see, will kiss the valleys first.
- The odds for high and low's alike.
- LEONTES. My lord,
- Is this the daughter of a king?
- FLORIZEL. She is,
- When once she is my wife.
- LEONTES. That 'once,' I see by your good father's speed,
- Will come on very slowly. I am sorry,
- Most sorry, you have broken from his liking
- Where you were tied in duty; and as sorry
- Your choice is not so rich in worth as beauty,
- That you might well enjoy her.
- FLORIZEL. Dear, look up.
- Though Fortune, visible an enemy,
- Should chase us with my father, pow'r no jot
- Hath she to change our loves. Beseech you, sir,
- Remember since you ow'd no more to time
- Than I do now. With thought of such affections,
- Step forth mine advocate; at your request
- My father will grant precious things as trifles.
- LEONTES. Would he do so, I'd beg your precious mistress,
- Which he counts but a trifle.
- PAULINA. Sir, my liege,
- Your eye hath too much youth in't. Not a month
- Fore your queen died, she was more worth such gazes
- Than what you look on now.
- LEONTES. I thought of her
- Even in these looks I made. [To FLORIZEL] But your petition
- Is yet unanswer'd. I will to your father.
- Your honour not o'erthrown by your desires,
- I am friend to them and you. Upon which errand
- I now go toward him; therefore, follow me,
- And mark what way I make. Come, good my lord. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE II.
-Sicilia. Before the palace of LEONTES
-
-Enter AUTOLYCUS and a GENTLEMAN
-
- AUTOLYCUS. Beseech you, sir, were you present at this relation?
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. I was by at the opening of the fardel, heard the
- old shepherd deliver the manner how he found it; whereupon, after
- a little amazedness, we were all commanded out of the chamber;
- only this, methought I heard the shepherd say he found the child.
- AUTOLYCUS. I would most gladly know the issue of it.
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. I make a broken delivery of the business; but the
- changes I perceived in the King and Camillo were very notes of
- admiration. They seem'd almost, with staring on one another, to
- tear the cases of their eyes; there was speech in their dumbness,
- language in their very gesture; they look'd as they had heard of
- a world ransom'd, or one destroyed. A notable passion of wonder
- appeared in them; but the wisest beholder that knew no more but
- seeing could not say if th' importance were joy or sorrow- but in
- the extremity of the one it must needs be.
-
- Enter another GENTLEMAN
-
- Here comes a gentleman that happily knows more. The news, Rogero?
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. Nothing but bonfires. The oracle is fulfill'd:
- the King's daughter is found. Such a deal of wonder is broken out
- within this hour that ballad-makers cannot be able to express it.
-
- Enter another GENTLEMAN
-
- Here comes the Lady Paulina's steward; he can deliver you more.
- How goes it now, sir? This news, which is call'd true, is so like
- an old tale that the verity of it is in strong suspicion. Has the
- King found his heir?
- THIRD GENTLEMAN. Most true, if ever truth were pregnant by
- circumstance. That which you hear you'll swear you see, there is
- such unity in the proofs. The mantle of Queen Hermione's; her
- jewel about the neck of it; the letters of Antigonus found with
- it, which they know to be his character; the majesty of the
- creature in resemblance of the mother; the affection of nobleness
- which nature shows above her breeding; and many other evidences-
- proclaim her with all certainty to be the King's daughter. Did
- you see the meeting of the two kings?
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. No.
- THIRD GENTLEMAN. Then you have lost a sight which was to be seen,
- cannot be spoken of. There might you have beheld one joy crown
- another, so and in such manner that it seem'd sorrow wept to take
- leave of them; for their joy waded in tears. There was casting up
- of eyes, holding up of hands, with countenance of such
- distraction that they were to be known by garment, not by favour.
- Our king, being ready to leap out of himself for joy of his found
- daughter, as if that joy were now become a loss, cries 'O, thy
- mother, thy mother!' then asks Bohemia forgiveness; then embraces
- his son-in-law; then again worries he his daughter with clipping
- her. Now he thanks the old shepherd, which stands by like a
- weather-bitten conduit of many kings' reigns. I never heard of
- such another encounter, which lames report to follow it and
- undoes description to do it.
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. What, pray you, became of Antigonus, that carried
- hence the child?
- THIRD GENTLEMAN. Like an old tale still, which will have matter to
- rehearse, though credit be asleep and not an ear open: he was
- torn to pieces with a bear. This avouches the shepherd's son, who
- has not only his innocence, which seems much, to justify him, but
- a handkerchief and rings of his that Paulina knows.
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. What became of his bark and his followers?
- THIRD GENTLEMAN. Wreck'd the same instant of their master's death,
- and in the view of the shepherd; so that all the instruments
- which aided to expose the child were even then lost when it was
- found. But, O, the noble combat that 'twixt joy and sorrow was
- fought in Paulina! She had one eye declin'd for the loss of her
- husband, another elevated that the oracle was fulfill'd. She
- lifted the Princess from the earth, and so locks her in embracing
- as if she would pin her to her heart, that she might no more be
- in danger of losing.
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. The dignity of this act was worth the audience of
- kings and princes; for by such was it acted.
- THIRD GENTLEMAN. One of the prettiest touches of all, and that
- which angl'd for mine eyes- caught the water, though not the
- fish- was, when at the relation of the Queen's death, with the
- manner how she came to't bravely confess'd and lamented by the
- King, how attentivenes wounded his daughter; till, from one sign
- of dolour to another, she did with an 'Alas!'- I would fain say-
- bleed tears; for I am sure my heart wept blood. Who was most
- marble there changed colour; some swooned, all sorrowed. If all
- the world could have seen't, the woe had been universal.
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. Are they returned to the court?
- THIRD GENTLEMAN. No. The Princess hearing of her mother's statue,
- which is in the keeping of Paulina- a piece many years in doing
- and now newly perform'd by that rare Italian master, Julio
- Romano, who, had he himself eternity and could put breath into
- his work, would beguile nature of her custom, so perfectly he is
- her ape. He so near to Hermione hath done Hermione that they say
- one would speak to her and stand in hope of answer- thither with
- all greediness of affection are they gone, and there they intend
- to sup.
- SECOND GENTLEMAN. I thought she had some great matter there in
- hand; for she hath privately twice or thrice a day, ever since
- the death of Hermione, visited that removed house. Shall we
- thither, and with our company piece the rejoicing?
- FIRST GENTLEMAN. Who would be thence that has the benefit of
- access? Every wink of an eye some new grace will be born. Our
- absence makes us unthrifty to our knowledge. Let's along.
- Exeunt GENTLEMEN
- AUTOLYCUS. Now, had I not the dash of my former life in me, would
- preferment drop on my head. I brought the old man and his son
- aboard the Prince; told him I heard them talk of a fardel and I
- know not what; but he at that time over-fond of the shepherd's
- daughter- so he then took her to be- who began to be much
- sea-sick, and himself little better, extremity of weather
- continuing, this mystery remained undiscover'd. But 'tis all one
- to me; for had I been the finder-out of this secret, it would not
- have relish'd among my other discredits.
-
- Enter SHEPHERD and CLOWN
-
- Here come those I have done good to against my will, and already
- appearing in the blossoms of their fortune.
- SHEPHERD. Come, boy; I am past moe children, but thy sons and
- daughters will be all gentlemen born.
- CLOWN. You are well met, sir. You denied to fight with me this
- other day, because I was no gentleman born. See you these
- clothes? Say you see them not and think me still no gentleman
- born. You were best say these robes are not gentlemen born. Give
- me the lie, do; and try whether I am not now a gentleman born.
- AUTOLYCUS. I know you are now, sir, a gentleman born.
- CLOWN. Ay, and have been so any time these four hours.
- SHEPHERD. And so have I, boy.
- CLOWN. So you have; but I was a gentleman born before my father;
- for the King's son took me by the hand and call'd me brother; and
- then the two kings call'd my father brother; and then the Prince,
- my brother, and the Princess, my sister, call'd my father father.
- And so we wept; and there was the first gentleman-like tears that
- ever we shed.
- SHEPHERD. We may live, son, to shed many more.
- CLOWN. Ay; or else 'twere hard luck, being in so preposterous
- estate as we are.
- AUTOLYCUS. I humbly beseech you, sir, to pardon me all the faults I
- have committed to your worship, and to give me your good report
- to the Prince my master.
- SHEPHERD. Prithee, son, do; for we must be gentle, now we are
- gentlemen.
- CLOWN. Thou wilt amend thy life?
- AUTOLYCUS. Ay, an it like your good worship.
- CLOWN. Give me thy hand. I will swear to the Prince thou art as
- honest a true fellow as any is in Bohemia.
- SHEPHERD. You may say it, but not swear it.
- CLOWN. Not swear it, now I am a gentleman? Let boors and franklins
- say it: I'll swear it.
- SHEPHERD. How if it be false, son?
- CLOWN. If it be ne'er so false, a true gentleman may swear it in
- the behalf of his friend. And I'll swear to the Prince thou art a
- tall fellow of thy hands and that thou wilt not be drunk; but I
- know thou art no tall fellow of thy hands and that thou wilt be
- drunk. But I'll swear it; and I would thou wouldst be a tall
- fellow of thy hands.
- AUTOLYCUS. I will prove so, sir, to my power.
- CLOWN. Ay, by any means, prove a tall fellow. If I do not wonder
- how thou dar'st venture to be drunk not being a tall fellow,
- trust me not. Hark! the kings and the princes, our kindred, are
- going to see the Queen's picture. Come, follow us; we'll be thy
- good masters. Exeunt
-
-
-
-
-SCENE III.
-Sicilia. A chapel in PAULINA's house
-
-Enter LEONTES, POLIXENES, FLORIZEL, PERDITA, CAMILLO, PAULINA,
-LORDS and ATTENDANTS
-
- LEONTES. O grave and good Paulina, the great comfort
- That I have had of thee!
- PAULINA. What, sovereign sir,
- I did not well, I meant well. All my services
- You have paid home; but that you have vouchsaf'd,
- With your crown'd brother and these your contracted
- Heirs of your kingdoms, my poor house to visit,
- It is a surplus of your grace, which never
- My life may last to answer.
- LEONTES. O Paulina,
- We honour you with trouble; but we came
- To see the statue of our queen. Your gallery
- Have we pass'd through, not without much content
- In many singularities; but we saw not
- That which my daughter came to look upon,
- The statue of her mother.
- PAULINA. As she liv'd peerless,
- So her dead likeness, I do well believe,
- Excels whatever yet you look'd upon
- Or hand of man hath done; therefore I keep it
- Lonely, apart. But here it is. Prepare
- To see the life as lively mock'd as ever
- Still sleep mock'd death. Behold; and say 'tis well.
- [PAULINA draws a curtain, and discovers HERMIONE
- standing like a statue]
- I like your silence; it the more shows off
- Your wonder; but yet speak. First, you, my liege.
- Comes it not something near?
- LEONTES. Her natural posture!
- Chide me, dear stone, that I may say indeed
- Thou art Hermione; or rather, thou art she
- In thy not chiding; for she was as tender
- As infancy and grace. But yet, Paulina,
- Hermione was not so much wrinkled, nothing
- So aged as this seems.
- POLIXENES. O, not by much!
- PAULINA. So much the more our carver's excellence,
- Which lets go by some sixteen years and makes her
- As she liv'd now.
- LEONTES. As now she might have done,
- So much to my good comfort as it is
- Now piercing to my soul. O, thus she stood,
- Even with such life of majesty- warm life,
- As now it coldly stands- when first I woo'd her!
- I am asham'd. Does not the stone rebuke me
- For being more stone than it? O royal piece,
- There's magic in thy majesty, which has
- My evils conjur'd to remembrance, and
- From thy admiring daughter took the spirits,
- Standing like stone with thee!
- PERDITA. And give me leave,
- And do not say 'tis superstition that
- I kneel, and then implore her blessing. Lady,
- Dear queen, that ended when I but began,
- Give me that hand of yours to kiss.
- PAULINA. O, patience!
- The statue is but newly fix'd, the colour's
- Not dry.
- CAMILLO. My lord, your sorrow was too sore laid on,
- Which sixteen winters cannot blow away,
- So many summers dry. Scarce any joy
- Did ever so long live; no sorrow
- But kill'd itself much sooner.
- POLIXENES. Dear my brother,
- Let him that was the cause of this have pow'r
- To take off so much grief from you as he
- Will piece up in himself.
- PAULINA. Indeed, my lord,
- If I had thought the sight of my poor image
- Would thus have wrought you- for the stone is mine-
- I'd not have show'd it.
- LEONTES. Do not draw the curtain.
- PAULINA. No longer shall you gaze on't, lest your fancy
- May think anon it moves.
- LEONTES. Let be, let be.
- Would I were dead, but that methinks already-
- What was he that did make it? See, my lord,
- Would you not deem it breath'd, and that those veins
- Did verily bear blood?
- POLIXENES. Masterly done!
- The very life seems warm upon her lip.
- LEONTES. The fixture of her eye has motion in't,
- As we are mock'd with art.
- PAULINA. I'll draw the curtain.
- My lord's almost so far transported that
- He'll think anon it lives.
- LEONTES. O sweet Paulina,
- Make me to think so twenty years together!
- No settled senses of the world can match
- The pleasure of that madness. Let 't alone.
- PAULINA. I am sorry, sir, I have thus far stirr'd you; but
- I could afflict you farther.
- LEONTES. Do, Paulina;
- For this affliction has a taste as sweet
- As any cordial comfort. Still, methinks,
- There is an air comes from her. What fine chisel
- Could ever yet cut breath? Let no man mock me,
- For I will kiss her.
- PAULINA. Good my lord, forbear.
- The ruddiness upon her lip is wet;
- You'll mar it if you kiss it; stain your own
- With oily painting. Shall I draw the curtain?
- LEONTES. No, not these twenty years.
- PERDITA. So long could I
- Stand by, a looker-on.
- PAULINA. Either forbear,
- Quit presently the chapel, or resolve you
- For more amazement. If you can behold it,
- I'll make the statue move indeed, descend,
- And take you by the hand, but then you'll think-
- Which I protest against- I am assisted
- By wicked powers.
- LEONTES. What you can make her do
- I am content to look on; what to speak
- I am content to hear; for 'tis as easy
- To make her speak as move.
- PAULINA. It is requir'd
- You do awake your faith. Then all stand still;
- Or those that think it is unlawful business
- I am about, let them depart.
- LEONTES. Proceed.
- No foot shall stir.
- PAULINA. Music, awake her: strike. [Music]
- 'Tis time; descend; be stone no more; approach;
- Strike all that look upon with marvel. Come;
- I'll fill your grave up. Stir; nay, come away.
- Bequeath to death your numbness, for from him
- Dear life redeems you. You perceive she stirs.
- [HERMIONE comes down from the pedestal]
- Start not; her actions shall be holy as
- You hear my spell is lawful. Do not shun her
- Until you see her die again; for then
- You kill her double. Nay, present your hand.
- When she was young you woo'd her; now in age
- Is she become the suitor?
- LEONTES. O, she's warm!
- If this be magic, let it be an art
- Lawful as eating.
- POLIXENES. She embraces him.
- CAMILLO. She hangs about his neck.
- If she pertain to life, let her speak too.
- POLIXENES. Ay, and make it manifest where she has liv'd,
- Or how stol'n from the dead.
- PAULINA. That she is living,
- Were it but told you, should be hooted at
- Like an old tale; but it appears she lives
- Though yet she speak not. Mark a little while.
- Please you to interpose, fair madam. Kneel,
- And pray your mother's blessing. Turn, good lady;
- Our Perdita is found.
- HERMIONE. You gods, look down,
- And from your sacred vials pour your graces
- Upon my daughter's head! Tell me, mine own,
- Where hast thou been preserv'd? Where liv'd? How found
- Thy father's court? For thou shalt hear that I,
- Knowing by Paulina that the oracle
- Gave hope thou wast in being, have preserv'd
- Myself to see the issue.
- PAULINA. There's time enough for that,
- Lest they desire upon this push to trouble
- Your joys with like relation. Go together,
- You precious winners all; your exultation
- Partake to every one. I, an old turtle,
- Will wing me to some wither'd bough, and there
- My mate, that's never to be found again,
- Lament till I am lost.
- LEONTES. O peace, Paulina!
- Thou shouldst a husband take by my consent,
- As I by thine a wife. This is a match,
- And made between's by vows. Thou hast found mine;
- But how, is to be question'd; for I saw her,
- As I thought, dead; and have, in vain, said many
- A prayer upon her grave. I'll not seek far-
- For him, I partly know his mind- to find thee
- An honourable husband. Come, Camillo,
- And take her by the hand whose worth and honesty
- Is richly noted, and here justified
- By us, a pair of kings. Let's from this place.
- What! look upon my brother. Both your pardons,
- That e'er I put between your holy looks
- My ill suspicion. This your son-in-law,
- And son unto the King, whom heavens directing,
- Is troth-plight to your daughter. Good Paulina,
- Lead us from hence where we may leisurely
- Each one demand and answer to his part
- Perform'd in this wide gap of time since first
- We were dissever'd. Hastily lead away. Exeunt
-
-THE END
-
-
-
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-SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
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-WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
-DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
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-
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-
-1609
-
-A LOVER'S COMPLAINT
-
-by William Shakespeare
-
-
-
- From off a hill whose concave womb reworded
- A plaintful story from a sist'ring vale,
- My spirits t'attend this double voice accorded,
- And down I laid to list the sad-tuned tale,
- Ere long espied a fickle maid full pale,
- Tearing of papers, breaking rings atwain,
- Storming her world with sorrow's wind and rain.
-
- Upon her head a platted hive of straw,
- Which fortified her visage from the sun,
- Whereon the thought might think sometime it saw
- The carcase of a beauty spent and done.
- Time had not scythed all that youth begun,
- Nor youth all quit, but spite of heaven's fell rage
- Some beauty peeped through lattice of seared age.
-
- Oft did she heave her napkin to her eyne,
- Which on it had conceited characters,
- Laund'ring the silken figures in the brine
- That seasoned woe had pelleted in tears,
- And often reading what contents it bears;
- As often shrieking undistinguished woe,
- In clamours of all size, both high and low.
-
- Sometimes her levelled eyes their carriage ride,
- As they did batt'ry to the spheres intend;
- Sometime diverted their poor balls are tied
- To th' orbed earth; sometimes they do extend
- Their view right on; anon their gazes lend
- To every place at once, and nowhere fixed,
- The mind and sight distractedly commixed.
-
- Her hair, nor loose nor tied in formal plat,
- Proclaimed in her a careless hand of pride;
- For some, untucked, descended her sheaved hat,
- Hanging her pale and pined cheek beside;
- Some in her threaden fillet still did bide,
- And, true to bondage, would not break from thence,
- Though slackly braided in loose negligence.
-
- A thousand favours from a maund she drew
- Of amber, crystal, and of beaded jet,
- Which one by one she in a river threw,
- Upon whose weeping margent she was set;
- Like usury applying wet to wet,
- Or monarchs' hands that lets not bounty fall
- Where want cries some, but where excess begs all.
-
- Of folded schedules had she many a one,
- Which she perused, sighed, tore, and gave the flood;
- Cracked many a ring of posied gold and bone,
- Bidding them find their sepulchres in mud;
- Found yet moe letters sadly penned in blood,
- With sleided silk feat and affectedly
- Enswathed and sealed to curious secrecy.
-
- These often bathed she in her fluxive eyes,
- And often kissed, and often 'gan to tear;
- Cried, 'O false blood, thou register of lies,
- What unapproved witness dost thou bear!
- Ink would have seemed more black and damned here!
- This said, in top of rage the lines she rents,
- Big discontents so breaking their contents.
-
- A reverend man that grazed his cattle nigh,
- Sometime a blusterer that the ruffle knew
- Of court, of city, and had let go by
- The swiftest hours observed as they flew,
- Towards this afflicted fancy fastly drew;
- And, privileged by age, desires to know
- In brief the grounds and motives of her woe.
-
- So slides he down upon his grained bat,
- And comely distant sits he by her side;
- When he again desires her, being sat,
- Her grievance with his hearing to divide.
- If that from him there may be aught applied
- Which may her suffering ecstasy assuage,
- 'Tis promised in the charity of age.
-
- 'Father,' she says, 'though in me you behold
- The injury of many a blasting hour,
- Let it not tell your judgement I am old:
- Not age, but sorrow, over me hath power.
- I might as yet have been a spreading flower,
- Fresh to myself, if I had self-applied
- Love to myself, and to no love beside.
-
- 'But woe is me! too early I attended
- A youthful suit- it was to gain my grace-
- O, one by nature's outwards so commended
- That maidens' eyes stuck over all his face.
- Love lacked a dwelling and made him her place;
- And when in his fair parts she did abide,
- She was new lodged and newly deified.
-
- 'His browny locks did hang in crooked curls;
- And every light occasion of the wind
- Upon his lips their silken parcels hurls.
- What's sweet to do, to do will aptly find:
- Each eye that saw him did enchant the mind;
- For on his visage was in little drawn
- What largeness thinks in Paradise was sawn.
-
- 'Small show of man was yet upon his chin;
- His phoenix down began but to appear,
- Like unshorn velvet, on that termless skin,
- Whose bare out-bragged the web it seemed to wear:
- Yet showed his visage by that cost more dear;
- And nice affections wavering stood in doubt
- If best were as it was, or best without.
-
- 'His qualities were beauteous as his form,
- For maiden-tongued he was, and thereof free;
- Yet if men moved him, was he such a storm
- As oft 'twixt May and April is to see,
- When winds breathe sweet, unruly though they be.
- His rudeness so with his authorized youth
- Did livery falseness in a pride of truth.
-
- 'Well could he ride, and often men would say,
- "That horse his mettle from his rider takes:
- Proud of subjection, noble by the sway,
- What rounds, what bounds, what course, what stop he makes!"
- And controversy hence a question takes
- Whether the horse by him became his deed,
- Or he his manage by th' well-doing steed.
-
- 'But quickly on this side the verdict went:
- His real habitude gave life and grace
- To appertainings and to ornament,
- Accomplished in himself, not in his case,
- All aids, themselves made fairer by their place,
- Came for additions; yet their purposed trim
- Pierced not his grace, but were all graced by him.
-
- 'So on the tip of his subduing tongue
- All kind of arguments and question deep,
- All replication prompt, and reason strong,
- For his advantage still did wake and sleep.
- To make the weeper laugh, the laugher weep,
- He had the dialect and different skill,
- Catching all passions in his craft of will,
-
- 'That he did in the general bosom reign
- Of young, of old, and sexes both enchanted,
- To dwell with him in thoughts, or to remain
- In personal duty, following where he haunted.
- Consents bewitched, ere he desire, have granted,
- And dialogued for him what he would say,
- Asked their own wills, and made their wills obey.
-
- 'Many there were that did his picture get,
- To serve their eyes, and in it put their mind;
- Like fools that in th' imagination set
- The goodly objects which abroad they find
- Of lands and mansions, theirs in thought assigned;
- And labouring in moe pleasures to bestow them
- Than the true gouty landlord which doth owe them.
-
- 'So many have, that never touched his hand,
- Sweetly supposed them mistress of his heart.
- My woeful self, that did in freedom stand,
- And was my own fee-simple, not in part,
- What with his art in youth, and youth in art,
- Threw my affections in his charmed power
- Reserved the stalk and gave him all my flower.
-
- 'Yet did I not, as some my equals did,
- Demand of him, nor being desired yielded;
- Finding myself in honour so forbid,
- With safest distance I mine honour shielded.
- Experience for me many bulwarks builded
- Of proofs new-bleeding, which remained the foil
- Of this false jewel, and his amorous spoil.
-
- 'But ah, who ever shunned by precedent
- The destined ill she must herself assay?
- Or forced examples, 'gainst her own content,
- To put the by-past perils in her way?
- Counsel may stop awhile what will not stay;
- For when we rage, advice is often seen
- By blunting us to make our wills more keen.
-
- 'Nor gives it satisfaction to our blood
- That we must curb it upon others' proof,
- To be forbod the sweets that seems so good
- For fear of harms that preach in our behoof.
- O appetite, from judgement stand aloof!
- The one a palate hath that needs will taste,
- Though Reason weep, and cry it is thy last.
-
- 'For further I could say this man's untrue,
- And knew the patterns of his foul beguiling;
- Heard where his plants in others' orchards grew;
- Saw how deceits were gilded in his smiling;
- Knew vows were ever brokers to defiling;
- Thought characters and words merely but art,
- And bastards of his foul adulterate heart.
-
- 'And long upon these terms I held my city,
- Till thus he 'gan besiege me: "Gentle maid,
- Have of my suffering youth some feeling pity,
- And be not of my holy vows afraid.
- That's to ye sworn to none was ever said;
- For feasts of love I have been called unto,
- Till now did ne'er invite nor never woo.
-
- '"All my offences that abroad you see
- Are errors of the blood, none of the mind;
- Love made them not; with acture they may be,
- Where neither party is nor true nor kind.
- They sought their shame that so their shame did find;
- And so much less of shame in me remains
- By how much of me their reproach contains.
-
- '"Among the many that mine eyes have seen,
- Not one whose flame my heart so much as warmed,
- Or my affection put to th' smallest teen,
- Or any of my leisures ever charmed.
- Harm have I done to them, but ne'er was harmed;
- Kept hearts in liveries, but mine own was free,
- And reigned commanding in his monarchy.
-
- '"Look here what tributes wounded fancies sent me,
- Of paled pearls and rubies red as blood;
- Figuring that they their passions likewise lent me
- Of grief and blushes, aptly understood
- In bloodless white and the encrimsoned mood-
- Effects of terror and dear modesty,
- Encamped in hearts, but fighting outwardly.
-
- '"And, lo, behold these talents of their hair,
- With twisted metal amorously empleached,
- I have receiv'd from many a several fair,
- Their kind acceptance weepingly beseeched,
- With the annexions of fair gems enriched,
- And deep-brained sonnets that did amplify
- Each stone's dear nature, worth, and quality.
-
- '"The diamond? why, 'twas beautiful and hard,
- Whereto his invised properties did tend;
- The deep-green em'rald, in whose fresh regard
- Weak sights their sickly radiance do amend;
- The heaven-hued sapphire and the opal blend
- With objects manifold; each several stone,
- With wit well blazoned, smiled, or made some moan.
-
- '"Lo, all these trophies of affections hot,
- Of pensived and subdued desires the tender,
- Nature hath charged me that I hoard them not,
- But yield them up where I myself must render-
- That is, to you, my origin and ender;
- For these, of force, must your oblations be,
- Since I their altar, you enpatron me.
-
- '"O then advance of yours that phraseless hand
- Whose white weighs down the airy scale of praise;
- Take all these similes to your own command,
- Hallowed with sighs that burning lungs did raise;
- What me your minister for you obeys
- Works under you; and to your audit comes
- Their distract parcels in combined sums.
-
- '"Lo, this device was sent me from a nun,
- Or sister sanctified, of holiest note,
- Which late her noble suit in court did shun,
- Whose rarest havings made the blossoms dote;
- For she was sought by spirits of richest coat,
- But kept cold distance, and did thence remove
- To spend her living in eternal love.
-
- '"But, O my sweet, what labour is't to leave
- The thing we have not, mast'ring what not strives,
- Playing the place which did no form receive,
- Playing patient sports in unconstrained gyves!
- She that her fame so to herself contrives,
- The scars of battle scapeth by the flight,
- And makes her absence valiant, not her might.
-
- '"O pardon me in that my boast is true!
- The accident which brought me to her eye
- Upon the moment did her force subdue,
- And now she would the caged cloister fly.
- Religious love put out religion's eye.
- Not to be tempted, would she be immured,
- And now to tempt all liberty procured.
-
- '"How mighty then you are, O hear me tell!
- The broken bosoms that to me belong
- Have emptied all their fountains in my well,
- And mine I pour your ocean all among.
- I strong o'er them, and you o'er me being strong,
- Must for your victory us all congest,
- As compound love to physic your cold breast.
-
- '"My parts had pow'r to charm a sacred nun,
- Who, disciplined, ay, dieted in grace,
- Believed her eyes when they t'assail begun,
- All vows and consecrations giving place,
- O most potential love, vow, bond, nor space,
- In thee hath neither sting, knot, nor confine,
- For thou art all, and all things else are thine.
-
- '"When thou impressest, what are precepts worth
- Of stale example? When thou wilt inflame,
- How coldly those impediments stand forth,
- Of wealth, of filial fear, law, kindred, fame!
- Love's arms are peace, 'gainst rule, 'gainst sense, 'gainst shame.
- And sweetens, in the suff'ring pangs it bears,
- The aloes of all forces, shocks and fears.
-
- '"Now all these hearts that do on mine depend,
- Feeling it break, with bleeding groans they pine,
- And supplicant their sighs to your extend,
- To leave the batt'ry that you make 'gainst mine,
- Lending soft audience to my sweet design,
- And credent soul to that strong-bonded oath,
- That shall prefer and undertake my troth."
-
- 'This said, his wat'ry eyes he did dismount,
- Whose sights till then were levelled on my face;
- Each cheek a river running from a fount
- With brinish current downward flowed apace.
- O, how the channel to the stream gave grace!
- Who glazed with crystal gate the glowing roses
- That flame through water which their hue encloses.
-
- 'O father, what a hell of witchcraft lies
- In the small orb of one particular tear!
- But with the inundation of the eyes
- What rocky heart to water will not wear?
- What breast so cold that is not warmed here?
- O cleft effect! cold modesty, hot wrath,
- Both fire from hence and chill extincture hath.
-
- 'For lo, his passion, but an art of craft,
- Even there resolved my reason into tears;
- There my white stole of chastity I daffed,
- Shook off my sober guards and civil fears;
- Appear to him as he to me appears,
- All melting; though our drops this diff'rence bore:
- His poisoned me, and mine did him restore.
-
- 'In him a plenitude of subtle matter,
- Applied to cautels, all strange forms receives,
- Of burning blushes or of weeping water,
- Or swooning paleness; and he takes and leaves,
- In either's aptness, as it best deceives,
- To blush at speeches rank, to weep at woes,
- Or to turn white and swoon at tragic shows;
-
- 'That not a heart which in his level came
- Could scape the hail of his all-hurting aim,
- Showing fair nature is both kind and tame;
- And, veiled in them, did win whom he would maim.
- Against the thing he sought he would exclaim;
- When he most burned in heart-wished luxury,
- He preached pure maid and praised cold chastity.
-
- 'Thus merely with the garment of a Grace
- The naked and concealed fiend he covered,
- That th' unexperient gave the tempter place,
- Which, like a cherubin, above them hovered.
- Who, young and simple, would not be so lovered?
- Ay me, I fell, and yet do question make
- What I should do again for such a sake.
-
- 'O, that infected moisture of his eye,
- O, that false fire which in his cheek so glowed,
- O, that forced thunder from his heart did fly,
- O, that sad breath his spongy lungs bestowed,
- O, all that borrowed motion, seeming owed,
- Would yet again betray the fore-betrayed,
- And new pervert a reconciled maid.'
-
-THE END
-
-
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-<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
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