diff --git a/QAM/qam b/QAM/qam index 2d9cca4..95b9039 100755 Binary files a/QAM/qam and b/QAM/qam differ diff --git a/QAM/qam.c b/QAM/qam.c index 140c8fa..624629e 100644 --- a/QAM/qam.c +++ b/QAM/qam.c @@ -41,6 +41,23 @@ void init_constellation (qam_system* qam) { } } +// Calcul du bruit gaussien pour un sigma donné +// Formule de Box-Muller +double gaussian_noise (double sigma) { + double u1 = (rand() + 1) / ((double)RAND_MAX + 2); + double u2 = (rand() + 1) / ((double)RAND_MAX + 2); + return sigma * sqrt(-2 * log(u1)) * cos(2 * M_PI * u2); +} + +// Ajout du bruit +void add_noise (double complex* s, int len, double sigma) { + for (int i = 0; i < len; i++) { + double nr = gaussian_noise(sigma); + double ni = gaussian_noise(sigma); + s[i] += nr + I * ni; + } +} + // Changer le tableau de bits en boolen ou alors la represenation binaire et shifter pour extraire les bits (pas bien si M plus grand) void bits_to_symbols (qam_system* qam, uint8_t* bits, int nb_bits, double complex* symbols) { int nb_symbols = nb_bits / qam->k; @@ -129,7 +146,7 @@ int main (int argc, char *argv[]) { qam.M = 256; qam.k = (int)log2((double)(qam.M)); qam.Fs = 44100; - qam.Ts = 0.00003; + qam.Ts = 0.003; qam.N = (int)qam.Fs * qam.Ts; qam.Fc = 2000; init_constellation(&qam); @@ -155,6 +172,13 @@ int main (int argc, char *argv[]) { int total_samples = qam.N * nb_symbols; double complex* s = (double complex*)malloc(sizeof(double complex) * total_samples); modulate(&qam, symbols, nb_symbols, s); + // Ajout du bruit + double signal_power = (2.0/3.0)*(qam.M-1); // puissance moyenne avant échelle + double snr_dB = -27; // Signal to noise ratio + double snr_lin = pow(10.0, snr_dB / 10.0); + double sigma = sqrt(signal_power / snr_lin); + printf("Ajout du bruit \n puissance du signal : %f\n SNR db : %f\n sigma : %f\n", signal_power, snr_dB, sigma); + add_noise(s, total_samples, sigma); printf("Demodulation\n"); diff --git a/QAM/sin.txt b/QAM/sin.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 002efe0..0000000 --- a/QAM/sin.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,46409 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Complete Works of William Shakespeare - -This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online -at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, -you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located -before using this eBook. - -Title: The Complete Works of William Shakespeare - -Author: William Shakespeare - -Release date: January 1, 1994 [eBook #100] - Most recently updated: August 24, 2025 - -Language: English - - - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE *** - - - - -The Complete Works of William Shakespeare - -by William Shakespeare - - - - - Contents - - THE SONNETS - ALL’S WELL THAT ENDS WELL - THE TRAGEDY OF ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA - AS YOU LIKE IT - THE COMEDY OF ERRORS - THE TRAGEDY OF CORIOLANUS - CYMBELINE - THE TRAGEDY OF HAMLET, PRINCE OF DENMARK - THE FIRST PART OF KING HENRY THE FOURTH - THE SECOND PART OF KING HENRY THE FOURTH - THE LIFE OF KING HENRY THE FIFTH - THE FIRST PART OF HENRY THE SIXTH - THE SECOND PART OF KING HENRY THE SIXTH - THE THIRD PART OF KING HENRY THE SIXTH - KING HENRY THE EIGHTH - THE LIFE AND DEATH OF KING JOHN - THE TRAGEDY OF JULIUS CAESAR - THE TRAGEDY OF KING LEAR - LOVE’S LABOUR’S LOST - THE TRAGEDY OF MACBETH - MEASURE FOR MEASURE - THE MERCHANT OF VENICE - THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR - A MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAM - MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING - THE TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, THE MOOR OF VENICE - PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE - KING RICHARD THE SECOND - KING RICHARD THE THIRD - THE TRAGEDY OF ROMEO AND JULIET - THE TAMING OF THE SHREW - THE TEMPEST - THE LIFE OF TIMON OF ATHENS - THE TRAGEDY OF TITUS ANDRONICUS - TROILUS AND CRESSIDA - TWELFTH NIGHT; OR, WHAT YOU WILL - THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA - THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN - THE WINTER’S TALE - A LOVER’S COMPLAINT - THE PASSIONATE PILGRIM - THE PHOENIX AND THE TURTLE - THE RAPE OF LUCRECE - VENUS AND ADONIS - - - - -THE SONNETS - - 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, -Thyself 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 deserv’d 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 thyself 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 thyself alone, -Thou of thyself 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 thyself to breed another thee, -Or ten times happier be it ten for one, -Ten times thyself 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, thyself 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 thyself 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 thyself 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 thyself 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 thyself 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 yourself 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 -Yourself again after yourself’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 thyself, 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 everything 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 yourself 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 yourself in eyes of men. - To give away yourself, keeps yourself 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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’. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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 thyself the thanks if aught in me, -Worthy perusal stand against thy sight, -For who’s so dumb that cannot write to thee, -When thou thyself 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. - - - 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. - - - 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 thyself deceivest -By wilful taste of what thyself 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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, -Thyself 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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 judgement that yourself arise, - You live in this, and dwell in lovers’ eyes. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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 yourself may privilage your time -To what you will, to you it doth belong, -Yourself to pardon of self-doing crime. - I am to wait, though waiting so be hell, - Not blame your pleasure be it ill or well. - - - 59 - -If there be nothing new, but that which is, -Hath been before, how are our brains beguiled, -Which labouring for invention bear amiss -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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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, myself, that for myself I praise, - Painting my age with beauty of thy days. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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 thyself dost pay. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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 yourself 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. -Thyself 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. - - - 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. - - - 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 wrong, -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. - - - 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. - - - 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 wretched make. - - - 92 - -But do thy worst to steal thyself 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. - - - 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. - - - 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, -They 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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 cheek 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 115 - -Those lines that I before have writ do lie, -Even those that said I could not love you dearer, -Yet then my judgement 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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 fell sick of you. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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 judgement’s place. - In nothing art thou black save in thy deeds, - And thence this slander as I think proceeds. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 135 - -Whoever hath her wish, thou hast thy will, -And Will to boot, and Will in overplus, -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. - - - 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. - - - 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 judgement 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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 ears 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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’. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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 judgement 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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. - - - 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 lie. - - - 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 seething 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 diseased; 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 - - - -ALL’S WELL THAT ENDS WELL - - - -Contents - -ACT I -Scene I. Rossillon. A room in the Countess’s palace. -Scene II. Paris. A room in the King’s palace. -Scene III. Rossillon. A Room in the Palace. - - -ACT II -Scene I. Paris. A room in the King’s palace. -Scene II. Rossillon. A room in the Countess’s palace. -Scene III. Paris. The King’s palace. -Scene IV. Paris. The King’s palace. -Scene V. Another room in the same. - - -ACT III -Scene I. Florence. A room in the Duke’s palace. -Scene II. Rossillon. A room in the Countess’s palace. -Scene III. Florence. Before the Duke’s palace. -Scene IV. Rossillon. A room in the Countess’s palace. -Scene V. Without the walls of Florence. -Scene VI. Camp before Florence. -Scene VII. Florence. A room in the Widow’s house. - - -ACT IV -Scene I. Without the Florentine camp. -Scene II. Florence. A room in the Widow’s house. -Scene III. The Florentine camp. -Scene IV. Florence. A room in the Widow’s house. -Scene V. Rossillon. A room in the Countess’s palace. - - -ACT V -Scene I. Marseilles. A street. -Scene II. Rossillon. The inner court of the Countess’s palace. -Scene III. The same. A room in the Countess’s palace. - - - Dramatis Personæ - -KING OF FRANCE. -THE DUKE OF FLORENCE. -BERTRAM, Count of Rossillon. -LAFEW, an old Lord. -PAROLLES, a follower of Bertram. -Several young French Lords, that serve with Bertram in the Florentine -War. -RYNALDO, servant to the Countess of Rossillon. -Clown, servant to the Countess of Rossillon. -A Page, servant to the Countess of Rossillon. -COUNTESS OF ROSSILLON, mother to Bertram. -HELENA, a Gentlewoman protected by the Countess. -An old WIDOW of Florence. -DIANA, daughter to the Widow. -VIOLENTA, neighbour and friend to the Widow. -MARIANA, neighbour and friend to the Widow. - -Lords attending on the KING; Officers; Soldiers, &c., French and -Florentine. - -SCENE: Partly in France, and partly in Tuscany. - - -ACT I - -SCENE I. Rossillon. A room in the Countess’s palace. - - Enter Bertram, the Countess of Rossillon, Helena, and Lafew, 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. - -LAFEW. -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? - -LAFEW. -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. - -LAFEW. -How called 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. - -LAFEW. -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? - -LAFEW. -A fistula, my lord. - -BERTRAM. -I heard not of it before. - -LAFEW. -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. - -LAFEW. -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. - -LAFEW. -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. - -LAFEW. -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. - -LAFEW. -He cannot want the best -That shall attend his love. - -COUNTESS. -Heaven bless him! Farewell, Bertram. - - [_Exit Countess._] - -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. - -LAFEW. -Farewell, pretty lady, you must hold the credit of your father. - - [_Exeunt Bertram and Lafew._] - -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. - -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 it! - -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 -the year it will make itself two, which is a goodly increase, and the -principal itself not much the worse. Away with it! - -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 a 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 Mars? - -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._] - -SCENE II. Paris. A room in the King’s palace. - - Flourish of cornets. Enter the King of France, with letters; Lords and - others attending. - -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, Lafew and Parolles. - -FIRST LORD. -It is the Count Rossillon, 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 -Today 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 lov’d, 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._] - -SCENE III. Rossillon. A Room in the 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 -damned; 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 of my body; for -they say barnes 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 of 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 a-weary 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’ the 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’ the 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! And we might -have a good woman born but or every blazing star, or at an earthquake, -’twould mend the lottery well; a man may draw his heart out ere he -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 tottering 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 Rossillon 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 mystery 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, t’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 inteemable 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, an 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 tomorrow; and be sure of this, -What I can help thee to, thou shalt not miss. - - [_Exeunt._] - - -ACT II. - -SCENE I. Paris. A room in the King’s palace. - - Flourish. Enter the King with young Lords taking leave for the - Florentine war; Bertram, Parolles and Attendants. - -KING. -Farewell, young lords; these warlike 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 loud. 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.—Come hither to me. - - [_The King retires to a couch._] - -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 “the 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? - -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 Lafew. - -LAFEW. -Pardon, my lord [_kneeling_], for me and for my tidings. - -KING. -I’ll fee thee to stand up. - -LAFEW. -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. - -LAFEW. -Good faith, across; -But, my good lord, ’tis thus: will you be cur’d -Of your infirmity? - -KING. -No. - -LAFEW. -O, will you eat -No grapes, my royal fox? Yes, but you will -My noble grapes, and 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 sprightly fire and motion; whose simple touch -Is powerful to araise King Pippen, nay, -To give great Charlemain a pen in’s hand -And write to her a love-line. - -KING. -What ‘her’ is this? - -LAFEW. -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 Lafew, -Bring in the admiration; that we with thee -May spend our wonder too, or take off thine -By wond’ring how thou took’st it. - -LAFEW. -Nay, I’ll fit you, -And not be all day neither. - - [_Exit Lafew._] - -KING. -Thus he his special nothing ever prologues. - - Enter Lafew with Helena. - -LAFEW. -Nay, come your ways. - -KING. -This haste hath wings indeed. - -LAFEW. -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 his bed of death -Many receipts he gave me; chiefly one, -Which, as the dearest issue of his practice, -And of his old experience the 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 great’st 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 her 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; nay 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 bless’d. -Give me some help here, ho! If thou proceed -As high as word, my deed shall match thy deed. - - [_Flourish. Exeunt._] - -SCENE II. Rossillon. A room in the Countess’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 May-day, 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 things 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 severally._] - -SCENE III. Paris. The King’s palace. - - Enter Bertram, Lafew and Parolles. - -LAFEW. -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. - -LAFEW. -To be relinquish’d of the artists,— - -PAROLLES. -So I say; both of Galen and Paracelsus. - -LAFEW. -Of all the learned and authentic fellows,— - -PAROLLES. -Right; so I say. - -LAFEW. -That gave him out incurable,— - -PAROLLES. -Why, there ’tis; so say I too. - -LAFEW. -Not to be helped. - -PAROLLES. -Right; as ’twere a man assur’d of a— - -LAFEW. -Uncertain life and sure death. - -PAROLLES. -Just; you say well. So would I have said. - -LAFEW. -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 you call there? - -LAFEW. -A showing of a heavenly effect in an earthly actor. - -PAROLLES. -That’s it; I would have said the very same. - -LAFEW. -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— - -LAFEW. -Very hand of heaven. - -PAROLLES. -Ay, so I say. - -LAFEW. -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— - -LAFEW. -Generally thankful. - -PAROLLES. -I would have said it; you say well. Here comes the king. - - Enter King, Helena and Attendants. - -LAFEW. -Lustique, 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. -_Mor du vinager!_ is not this Helen? - -LAFEW. -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 several 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! - -LAFEW. -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. - - She addresses her to a Lord. - -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. [_To first Lord._] Sir, will you hear my suit? - -FIRST LORD. -And grant it. - -HELENA. -Thanks, sir; all the rest is mute. - -LAFEW. -I had rather be in this choice than throw ames-ace for my life. - -HELENA. -[_To second Lord._] 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. - -LAFEW. -Do all they deny her? An they were sons of mine I’d have them whipp’d; -or I would send them to th’ Turk to make eunuchs of. - -HELENA. -[_To third Lord._] 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! - -LAFEW. -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. -[_To fourth Lord._] 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. - -LAFEW. -There’s one grape yet. I am sure thy father drank wine. But if thou -beest 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 stands 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 am 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 tonight. 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 King, Bertram, Helena, Lords, and Attendants._] - -LAFEW. -Do you hear, monsieur? A word with you. - -PAROLLES. -Your pleasure, sir. - -LAFEW. -Your lord and master did well to make his recantation. - -PAROLLES. -Recantation! My lord! My master! - -LAFEW. -Ay. Is it not a language I speak? - -PAROLLES. -A most harsh one, and not to be understood without bloody succeeding. -My master! - -LAFEW. -Are you companion to the Count Rossillon? - -PAROLLES. -To any count; to all counts; to what is man. - -LAFEW. -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. - -LAFEW. -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. - -LAFEW. -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 art scarce worth. - -PAROLLES. -Hadst thou not the privilege of antiquity upon thee— - -LAFEW. -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. - -LAFEW. -Ay, with all my heart; and thou art worthy of it. - -PAROLLES. -I have not, my lord, deserv’d it. - -LAFEW. -Yes, good faith, every dram of it; and I will not bate thee a scruple. - -PAROLLES. -Well, I shall be wiser. - -LAFEW. -Ev’n as soon as thou canst, for thou hast to pull at a smack o’ th’ -contrary. If ever thou beest 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. - -LAFEW. -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. - - Enter Lafew. - -LAFEW. -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. - -LAFEW. -Who? God? - -PAROLLES. -Ay, sir. - -LAFEW. -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. - -LAFEW. -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 the 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 caprichio hold in thee, art sure? - -BERTRAM. -Go with me to my chamber and advise me. -I’ll send her straight away. Tomorrow -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._] - -SCENE IV. 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’ the 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 fortune. - -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! Thou art a knave. - -CLOWN. -You should have said, sir, before a knave thou art a knave; that is -before me thou 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 tonight; -A very serious business calls on him. -The great prerogative and right 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 will else? - -PAROLLES. -That you will take your instant leave o’ the king, -And make this haste as your own good proceeding, -Strengthen’d 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. Come, sirrah. - - [_Exeunt._] - -SCENE V. Another room in the same. - - Enter Lafew and Bertram. - -LAFEW. -But I hope your lordship thinks not him a soldier. - -BERTRAM. -Yes, my lord, and of very valiant approof. - -LAFEW. -You have it from his own deliverance. - -BERTRAM. -And by other warranted testimony. - -LAFEW. -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. - -LAFEW. -I have, then, sinned against his experience and transgressed 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. - -LAFEW. -Pray you, sir, who’s his tailor? - -PAROLLES. -Sir! - -LAFEW. -O, I know him well, I, sir; he, sir, is a good workman, a very good -tailor. - -BERTRAM. -[_Aside to Parolles._] Is she gone to the king? - -PAROLLES. -She is. - -BERTRAM. -Will she away tonight? - -PAROLLES. -As you’ll have her. - -BERTRAM. -I have writ my letters, casketed my treasure, -Given order for our horses; and tonight, -When I should take possession of the bride, -End ere I do begin. - -LAFEW. -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. - -LAFEW. -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. - -LAFEW. -And shall do so ever, though I took him at his 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. Prepared 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. -Where are my other men, monsieur? -Farewell, - - [_Exit Helena._] - -BERTRAM. -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._] - - -ACT III. - -SCENE I. Florence. A room in the Duke’s palace. - - Flourish. Enter the Duke of Florence attended; two French Lords, and - Soldiers. - -DUKE. -So that, from point to point, now have you heard -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. -Tomorrow to the field. - - [_Flourish. Exeunt._] - -SCENE II. Rossillon. A room in the Countess’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 lings 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. - - 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 Gentlemen. - -FIRST GENTLEMAN. -Save you, good madam. - -HELENA. -Madam, my lord is gone, for ever gone. - -SECOND 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? - -SECOND GENTLEMAN. -Madam, he’s gone to serve the Duke of Florence; -We met him thitherward, for thence we came, -And, after some despatch 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 pr’ythee, 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? - -SECOND GENTLEMAN. -Ay, madam. - -COUNTESS. -And to be a soldier? - -SECOND 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? - -FIRST 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. - -FIRST 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? - -FIRST GENTLEMAN. -A servant only, and a gentleman which I have sometime known. - -COUNTESS. -Parolles, was it not? - -FIRST 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. - -FIRST 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. - -SECOND 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, Rossillon, none in France; -Then hast thou all again. Poor lord, is’t I -That chase thee from thy country, and expose -Those tender limbs of thine to the event -Of the none-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-peering 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, Rossillon, -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._] - -SCENE III. Florence. Before the Duke’s palace. - - Flourish. Enter the Duke of Florence, Bertram, drum and trumpets, - Soldiers, Parolles. - -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._] - -SCENE IV. Rossillon. A room in the Countess’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 dog 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! -Rynaldo, 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’erta’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, Rynaldo, -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._] - -SCENE V. Without the walls of Florence. - - Enter an old Widow of Florence, Diana, Violenta, Mariana and 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. - - [_A tucket afar off._] - -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 threaten 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 Rossillon. Know you such a one? - -HELENA. -But by the ear, that hears most nobly of him; -His face I know not. - -DIANA. -Whatsome’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. -Ay, right; 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? -Maybe 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 a drum and colours, a party of the Florentine army, - Bertram and Parolles. - -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’ the 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, Officers and Soldiers._] - -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 tonight; 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._] - -SCENE VI. Camp before Florence. - - Enter Bertram and the two French Lords. - -FIRST LORD. -Nay, good my lord, put him to’t; let him have his way. - -SECOND LORD. -If your lordship find him not a hilding, hold me no more in your -respect. - -FIRST LORD. -On my life, my lord, a bubble. - -BERTRAM. -Do you think I am so far deceived in him? - -FIRST 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. - -SECOND 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. - -SECOND LORD. -None better than to let him fetch off his drum, which you hear him so -confidently undertake to do. - -FIRST 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. - -SECOND 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. - -FIRST 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. - -SECOND 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. - -SECOND 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 your 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 possibility of thy soldiership, will -subscribe for thee. Farewell. - -PAROLLES. -I love not many words. - - [_Exit._] - -FIRST 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. - -SECOND 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? - -FIRST LORD. -None in the world; but return with an invention, and clap upon you two -or three probable lies; but we have almost embossed him; you shall see -his fall tonight; for indeed he is not for your lordship’s respect. - -SECOND LORD. -We’ll make you some sport with the fox ere we case him. He was first -smok’d by the old Lord Lafew; when his disguise and he is parted, tell -me what a sprat you shall find him; which you shall see this very -night. - -FIRST LORD. -I must go look my twigs. He shall be caught. - -BERTRAM. -Your brother, he shall go along with me. - -FIRST 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. - -SECOND 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’ the 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? - -SECOND LORD. -With all my heart, my lord. - - [_Exeunt._] - -SCENE VII. Florence. A room in 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 naught 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, -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 tonight -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._] - - -ACT IV. - -SCENE I. Without the Florentine camp. - - Enter first Lord with five or six Soldiers in ambush. - -FIRST 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 someone among us, whom we must produce for an interpreter. - -FIRST SOLDIER. -Good captain, let me be th’ interpreter. - -FIRST LORD. -Art not acquainted with him? Knows he not thy voice? - -FIRST SOLDIER. -No sir, I warrant you. - -FIRST LORD. -But what linsey-woolsey has thou to speak to us again? - -FIRST SOLDIER. -E’en such as you speak to me. - -FIRST LORD. -He must think us some band of strangers i’ the 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 -too 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. - -FIRST LORD. -[_Aside._] 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 butter-woman’s mouth, and buy -myself another of Bajazet’s mule, if you prattle me into these perils. - -FIRST LORD. -[_Aside._] 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. - -FIRST LORD. -[_Aside._] We cannot afford you so. - -PAROLLES. -Or the baring of my beard, and to say it was in stratagem. - -FIRST LORD. -[_Aside._] ’Twould not do. - -PAROLLES. -Or to drown my clothes, and say I was stripped. - -FIRST LORD. -[_Aside._] Hardly serve. - -PAROLLES. -Though I swore I leap’d from the window of the citadel,— - -FIRST LORD. -[_Aside._] How deep? - -PAROLLES. -Thirty fathom. - -FIRST LORD. -[_Aside._] 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. - -FIRST LORD. -[_Aside._] You shall hear one anon. - -PAROLLES. -A drum now of the enemy’s! - - [_Alarum within._] - -FIRST LORD. -_Throca movousus, cargo, cargo, cargo._ - -ALL. -_Cargo, cargo, cargo, villianda par corbo, cargo._ - - [_They seize and blindfold him._] - -PAROLLES. -O, ransom, ransom! Do not hide mine eyes. - -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. -_Kerelybonto._ Sir, Betake thee to thy faith, for seventeen poniards -are at thy bosom. - -PAROLLES. -O! - -FIRST SOLDIER. -O, pray, pray, pray! -_Manka revania dulche._ - -FIRST 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, with Parolles guarded._] - - A short alarum within. - -FIRST LORD. -Go tell the Count Rossillon and my brother -We have caught the woodcock, and will keep him muffled -Till we do hear from them. - -SECOND SOLDIER. -Captain, I will. - -FIRST LORD. -’A will betray us all unto ourselves; -Inform on that. - -SECOND SOLDIER. -So I will, sir. - -FIRST LORD. -Till then I’ll keep him dark, and safely lock’d. - - [_Exeunt._] - -SCENE II. Florence. A room in the Widow’s house. - - Enter Bertram and Diana. - -BERTRAM. -They told me that your name was Fontybell. - -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 a’ that! -I pr’ythee do not strive against my vows; -I was compell’d to her; but I love thee -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 highest 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 hopes in such a case, -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’ the 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’ the 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._] - -SCENE III. The Florentine camp. - - Enter the two French Lords and two or three Soldiers. - -FIRST LORD. -You have not given him his mother’s letter? - -SECOND 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. - -FIRST LORD. -He has much worthy blame laid upon him for shaking off so good a wife -and so sweet a lady. - -SECOND 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. - -FIRST LORD. -When you have spoken it, ’tis dead, and I am the grave of it. - -SECOND 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. - -FIRST LORD. -Now, God delay our rebellion! As we are ourselves, what things are we! - -SECOND 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. - -FIRST LORD. -Is it not meant damnable in us to be trumpeters of our unlawful -intents? We shall not then have his company tonight? - -SECOND LORD. -Not till after midnight; for he is dieted to his hour. - -FIRST LORD. -That approaches apace. I would gladly have him see his company -anatomized, that he might take a measure of his own judgments, wherein -so curiously he had set this counterfeit. - -SECOND LORD. -We will not meddle with him till he come; for his presence must be the -whip of the other. - -FIRST LORD. -In the meantime, what hear you of these wars? - -SECOND LORD. -I hear there is an overture of peace. - -FIRST LORD. -Nay, I assure you, a peace concluded. - -SECOND LORD. -What will Count Rossillon do then? Will he travel higher, or return -again into France? - -FIRST LORD. -I perceive by this demand, you are not altogether of his council. - -SECOND LORD. -Let it be forbid, sir! So should I be a great deal of his act. - -FIRST 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 accomplished; 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. - -SECOND LORD. -How is this justified? - -FIRST 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. - -SECOND LORD. -Hath the count all this intelligence? - -FIRST LORD. -Ay, and the particular confirmations, point from point, to the full -arming of the verity. - -SECOND LORD. -I am heartily sorry that he’ll be glad of this. - -FIRST LORD. -How mightily sometimes we make us comforts of our losses! - -SECOND 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 -encountered with a shame as ample. - -FIRST LORD. -The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together; our -virtues would be proud if our faults whipped 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? - -MESSENGER. -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. - - Enter Bertram. - -FIRST LORD. -They cannot be too sweet for the king’s tartness. Here’s his lordship -now. How now, my lord, is’t not after midnight? - -BERTRAM. -I have tonight despatch’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, entertained my convoy, and between these main -parcels of despatch 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’ the 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? - -FIRST 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 confessed 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’ the stocks. And what think you he hath confessed? - -BERTRAM. -Nothing of me, has he? - -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 Soldiers with Parolles. - -BERTRAM. -A plague upon him! muffled! he can say nothing of me; hush, hush! - -FIRST LORD. -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._ - -FIRST 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! - -FIRST LORD. -You are deceived, 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. - -SECOND 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. - -FIRST 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? - -FIRST 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 -Dumaine be i’ the camp, a Frenchman; what his reputation is with the -duke, what his valour, honesty and 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 Dumaine? - -PAROLLES. -I know him: he was a botcher’s ’prentice in Paris, from whence he was -whipped for getting the shrieve’s fool with child, a dumb innocent that -could not say him nay. - - [_First Lord lifts up his hand in anger._] - -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. - -FIRST 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’ the 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. - -FIRST 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 Rossillon, 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 whipped through the army with this rhyme in’s forehead. - -SECOND LORD. -This is your devoted friend, sir, the manifold linguist, and the -armipotent 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’ the 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 Dumaine: 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 -them 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. - -FIRST 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 soldiership 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. - -FIRST 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 quart d’ecu he will sell the fee-simple of his salvation, -the inheritance of it, and cut the entail from all remainders, and a -perpetual succession for it perpetually. - -FIRST SOLDIER. -What’s his brother, the other Captain Dumaine? - -SECOND LORD. -Why does he ask him of me? - -FIRST SOLDIER. -What’s he? - -PAROLLES. -E’en a crow o’ the 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 Rossillon. - -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 discovered 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, off 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. - -SECOND LORD. -God bless you, Captain Parolles. - -FIRST LORD. -God save you, noble captain. - -SECOND LORD. -Captain, what greeting will you to my Lord Lafew? I am for France. - -FIRST LORD. -Good Captain, will you give me a copy of the sonnet you writ to Diana -in behalf of the Count Rossillon? And I were not a very coward I’d -compel it of you; but fare you well. - - [_Exeunt Bertram, Lords &c._] - -FIRST SOLDIER. -You are undone, captain: all but your scarf; that has a knot on’t yet. - -PAROLLES. -Who cannot be crushed 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. - - [_Exeunt._] - -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 foolery thrive. -There’s place and means for every man alive. -I’ll after them. - - [_Exit._] - -SCENE IV. Florence. A room in 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._] - -SCENE V. Rossillon. A room in the Countess’s palace. - - Enter Clown, Countess and Lafew. - -LAFEW. -No, no, no, your son was misled with a snipt-taffeta fellow there, -whose villanous 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. - -LAFEW. -’Twas a good lady, ’twas a good lady. We may pick a thousand salads ere -we light on such another herb. - -CLOWN. -Indeed, sir, she was the sweet marjoram of the salad, or, rather, the -herb of grace. - -LAFEW. -They are not herbs, you knave; they are nose-herbs. - -CLOWN. -I am no great Nebuchadnezzar, sir; I have not much skill in grass. - -LAFEW. -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. - -LAFEW. -Your distinction? - -CLOWN. -I would cozen the man of his wife, and do his service. - -LAFEW. -So you were a knave at his service indeed. - -CLOWN. -And I would give his wife my bauble, sir, to do her service. - -LAFEW. -I will subscribe for thee; thou art both knave and fool. - -CLOWN. -At your service. - -LAFEW. -No, no, no. - -CLOWN. -Why, sir, if I cannot serve you, I can serve as great a prince as you -are. - -LAFEW. -Who’s that? a Frenchman? - -CLOWN. -Faith, sir, ’a has an English name; but his phisnomy is more hotter in -France than there. - -LAFEW. -What prince is that? - -CLOWN. -The black prince, sir; alias the prince of darkness; alias the devil. - -LAFEW. -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. - -LAFEW. -Go thy ways, I begin to be a-weary 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._] - -LAFEW. -A shrewd knave, and an unhappy. - -COUNTESS. -So he 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. - -LAFEW. -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. - -LAFEW. -His highness comes post from Marseilles, of as able body as when he -number’d thirty; he will be here tomorrow, or I am deceived 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 tonight. I shall beseech your lordship to -remain with me till they meet together. - -LAFEW. -Madam, I was thinking with what manners I might safely be admitted. - -COUNTESS. -You need but plead your honourable privilege. - -LAFEW. -Lady, of that I have made a bold charter; but, I thank my God, it holds -yet. - - 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. - -LAFEW. -A scar nobly got, or a noble scar, is a good livery of honour; so -belike is that. - -CLOWN. -But it is your carbonado’d face. - -LAFEW. -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._] - - -ACT V. - -SCENE I. 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. In happy time;— - - Enter a Gentleman. - -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 fallen -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 Rossillon; -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._] - -SCENE II. Rossillon. The inner court of the Countess’s palace. - - Enter Clown and Parolles. - -PAROLLES. -Good Monsieur Lavache, give my Lord Lafew 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 -buttering. Pr’ythee, 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. Pr’ythee, get thee further. - -PAROLLES. -Pray you, sir, deliver me this paper. - -CLOWN. -Foh, pr’ythee stand away. A paper from Fortune’s close-stool to give to -a nobleman! Look here he comes himself. - - Enter Lafew. - -Here is a pur of Fortune’s, sir, or of Fortune’s cat, but not a -musk-cat, that has fallen 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. - -LAFEW. -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 quart d’ecu 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. - -LAFEW. -You beg a single penny more. Come, you shall ha’t; save your word. - -PAROLLES. -My name, my good lord, is Parolles. - -LAFEW. -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. - -LAFEW. -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. - -LAFEW. -Out upon thee, knave! dost thou put upon me at once both the office of -God and the devil? One brings thee 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._] - -SCENE III. The same. A room in the Countess’s palace. - - Flourish. Enter King, Countess, Lafew, Lords, Gentlemen, Guards &c. - -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’ the 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. - -LAFEW. -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? - -LAFEW. -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. - -LAFEW. -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 stolen, -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! - -LAFEW. -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 to Lafew._] - -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 it. -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. - -LAFEW. -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 medicine, -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._] _Upon his many protestations to marry me when his wife was -dead, I blush to say it, he won me. Now is the Count Rossillon 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. - -LAFEW. -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, Lafew, -To bring forth this discovery. Seek these suitors. -Go speedily, and bring again the count. - - [_Exeunt Gentleman and some 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, since wives are monsters to you, -And that you fly them as you swear them lordship, -Yet you desire to marry. What woman’s that? - - Enter Widow and Diana. - -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. - -LAFEW. -[_To Bertram_] Your reputation comes too short for my daughter; you are -no husband for her. - -BERTRAM. -My lord, this is a fond and desperate 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’ the 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 owed 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. - -LAFEW. -I saw the man today, 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’ the 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’ the 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 Attendant with 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 the 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. - -LAFEW. -He’s a good drum, my lord, but a naughty orator. - -DIANA. -Do you know he promised 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 talked 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. - -LAFEW. -This woman’s an easy glove, my lord; she goes off and on at pleasure. - -KING. -This ring was mine, I gave it his first wife. - -DIANA. -It might be yours or hers for ought 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 Lafew._] - -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. - - 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 is by me with child, &c.’ 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? - -LAFEW. -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 courtesies 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] - -_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 TRAGEDY OF ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA - - -Contents - -ACT I -Scene I. -Alexandria. A Room in Cleopatra’s palace. -Scene II. -Alexandria. Another Room in Cleopatra’s palace. -Scene III. -Alexandria. A Room in Cleopatra’s palace. -Scene IV. -Rome. An Apartment in Caesar’s House -Scene V. -Alexandria. A Room in the Palace. - -ACT II -Scene I. -Messina. A Room in Pompey’s house. -Scene II. -Rome. A Room in the House of Lepidus. -Scene III. -Rome. A Room in Caesar’s House. -Scene IV. -Rome. A street. -Scene V. -Alexandria. A Room in the Palace. -Scene VI. -Near Misenum. -Scene VII. -On board Pompey’s Galley, lying near Misenum. - -ACT III -Scene I. -A plain in Syria. -Scene II. -Rome. An Ante-chamber in Caesar’s house. -Scene III. -Alexandria. A Room in the Palace. -Scene IV. -Athens. A Room in Antony’s House. -Scene V. -Athens. Another Room in Antony’s House. -Scene VI. -Rome. A Room in Caesar’s House. -Scene VII. -Antony’s Camp near the Promontory of Actium. -Scene VIII. -A plain near Actium. -Scene IX. -Another part of the Plain. -Scene X. -Another part of the Plain. -Scene XI. -Alexandria. A Room in the Palace. -Scene XII. -Caesar’s camp in Egypt. -Scene XIII. -Alexandria. A Room in the Palace. - -ACT IV -Scene I. -Caesar’s Camp at Alexandria. -Scene II. -Alexandria. A Room in the Palace. -Scene III. -Alexandria. Before the Palace. -Scene IV. -Alexandria. A Room in the Palace. -Scene V. -Antony’s camp near Alexandria. -Scene VI. -Alexandria. Caesar’s camp. -Scene VII. -Field of battle between the Camps. -Scene VIII. -Under the Walls of Alexandria. -Scene IX. -Caesar’s camp. -Scene X. -Ground between the two Camps. -Scene XI. -Another part of the Ground. -Scene XII. -Another part of the Ground. -Scene XIII. -Alexandria. A Room in the Palace. -Scene XIV. -Alexandria. Another Room. -Scene XV. -Alexandria. A monument. - -ACT V -Scene I. -Caesar’s Camp before Alexandria. -Scene II. -Alexandria. A Room in the Monument. - - -Dramatis Personæ - -MARK ANTONY, Triumvir -OCTAVIUS CAESAR, Triumvir -LEPIDUS, Triumvir -SEXTUS POMPEIUS, -DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS, friend to Antony -VENTIDIUS, friend to Antony -EROS, friend to Antony -SCARUS, friend to Antony -DERCETUS, friend to Antony -DEMETRIUS, friend to Antony -PHILO, friend to Antony -MAECENAS, friend to Caesar -AGRIPPA, friend to Caesar -DOLABELLA, friend to Caesar -PROCULEIUS, friend to Caesar -THIDIAS, friend to Caesar -GALLUS, friend to Caesar -MENAS, friend to Pompey -MENECRATES, friend to Pompey -VARRIUS, friend to Pompey -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, attendant on Cleopatra -SELEUCUS, attendant on Cleopatra -DIOMEDES, attendant on Cleopatra -A SOOTHSAYER -A CLOWN - -CLEOPATRA, Queen of Egypt -OCTAVIA, sister to Caesar and wife to Antony -CHARMIAN, Attendant on Cleopatra -IRAS, Attendant on Cleopatra - -Officers, Soldiers, Messengers, and other Attendants - -SCENE: Dispersed, in several parts of the Roman Empire. - - - - -ACT I - - -SCENE I. Alexandria. A Room in 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 glowed 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 and 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 reckoned. - -CLEOPATRA. -I’ll set a bourn how far to be beloved. - -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 powerful 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-tongued Fulvia scolds. The messengers! - -ANTONY. -Let Rome in Tiber melt, and the wide arch -Of the ranged 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 [_Embracing_]; 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 stirred 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 tonight? - -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 admired! -No messenger but thine, and all alone -Tonight 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 prized 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 tomorrow. Rest you happy! - - [_Exeunt._] - -SCENE II. Alexandria. Another Room in Cleopatra’s palace. - - Enter Enobarbus, a Soothsayer, Charmian, Iras, Mardian and Alexas. - -CHARMIAN. -Lord Alexas, sweet Alexas, most anything Alexas, almost most absolute -Alexas, where’s the soothsayer that you praised 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. - -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 proved 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 tonight, 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 workaday 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-wived, 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’d 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 disposed 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. - -CLEOPATRA. -We will not look upon him. Go with us. - - [_Exeunt Cleopatra, Enobarbus, Charmian, Iras, Alexas and - Soothsayer._] - -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 flattered. - -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 called 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 Messenger._] - - Enter another Messenger. - -ANTONY. -From Sicyon, ho, the news? Speak there! - -SECOND MESSENGER. -The man from Sicyon— - -ANTONY. -Is there such a one? - -SECOND MESSENGER. -He stays upon your will. - -ANTONY. -Let him appear. - - [_Exit second Messenger._] - -These strong Egyptian fetters I must break, -Or lose myself in dotage. - - Enter another Messenger with a letter. - -What are you? - -THIRD MESSENGER. -Fulvia thy wife is dead. - -ANTONY. -Where died she? - -THIRD MESSENGER. -In Sicyon: -Her length of sickness, with what else more serious -Importeth thee to know, this bears. - - [_Gives a letter._] - -ANTONY. -Forbear me. - - [_Exit third 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 lowering, does become -The opposite of itself. She’s good, being gone. -The hand could pluck her back that shoved 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! - - 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 shower 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 -crowned 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 broached 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 too -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 linked 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. A Room in Cleopatra’s palace. - - Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Alexas and Iras. - -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. -But here comes Antony. - - Enter 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 betrayed! 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 turned 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 condemned 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 awaked; 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 received shall be. - -ANTONY. -Quarrel no more, but be prepared 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 loved, 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 strewed 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. An Apartment in Caesar’s House. - - Enter Octavius [Caesar], 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 -Vouchsafed 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 enough to darken all his goodness. -His faults in him seem as the spots of heaven, -More fiery by night’s blackness; hereditary -Rather than purchased; 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 filled -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 beloved of those -That only have feared Caesar. To the ports -The discontents repair, and men’s reports -Give him much wronged. - -CAESAR. -I should have known no less. -It hath been taught us from the primal state -That he which is was wished until he were, -And the ebbed man, ne’er loved till ne’er worth love, -Comes deared by being lacked. This common body, -Like to a vagabond flag upon the stream, -Goes to and back, lackeying the varying tide, -To rot itself with motion. - - Enter a second Messenger. - -SECOND 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 browsed. 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 lanked 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. -Tomorrow, Caesar, -I shall be furnished 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. A Room in the 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 unseminared, 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 Phœbus’ 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 medicine hath -With his tinct gilded thee. -How goes it with my brave Mark Antony? - -ALEXAS. -Last thing he did, dear queen, -He kissed—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 neighed so high that what I would have spoke -Was beastly dumbed 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 seemed 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 choked 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._] - - - - -ACT II - - -SCENE I. Messina. A Room in 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 powers -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 flattered; 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 waned 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 donned 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 warred upon him, although I think, -Not moved 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. A Room in 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 today. - -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 combined 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 armies, and to fight, -I should do thus. - -CAESAR. -Welcome to Rome. - -ANTONY. -Thank you. - -CAESAR. -Sit. - -ANTONY. -Sit, sir. - -CAESAR. -Nay, then. - -ANTONY. -I learn you take things ill which are not so, -Or being, concern you not. - -CAESAR. -I must be laughed at -If, or for nothing or a little, I -Should say myself offended, and with you -Chiefly i’ th’ world; more laughed at that I should -Once name you derogately when to sound your name -It not concerned 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, practised? - -CAESAR. -You may be pleased 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 patched 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 asked 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 lacked it. But on, Caesar: -The article of my oath? - -CAESAR. -To lend me arms and aid when I required 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 differing in their acts. Yet if I knew -What hoop should hold us staunch, 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, -Admired Octavia. Great Mark Antony -Is now a widower. - -CAESAR. -Say not so, Agrippa. -If Cleopatra heard you, your reproof -Were well deserved 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 touched -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’s 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 Misena. - -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 talked 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 except Enobarbus, Agrippa and 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 stayed -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 pursed up his heart upon the river -of Cydnus. - -AGRIPPA. -There she appeared indeed, or my reporter devised well for her. - -ENOBARBUS. -I will tell you. -The barge she sat in, like a burnished throne, -Burned 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 beggared all description: she did lie -In her pavilion, cloth-of-gold of tissue, -O’erpicturing that Venus where we see -The fancy outwork nature. On each side her -Stood pretty dimpled boys, like smiling Cupids, -With divers-coloured 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, -Enthroned 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 barbered 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 cropped. - -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, pour breath 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. A Room in 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 dæmon—that thy spirit which keeps thee—is -Noble, courageous, high, unmatchable, -Where Caesar’s is not. But near him, thy angel -Becomes afeard, as being o’erpowered. 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 naught, and his quails ever -Beat mine, inhooped, 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 the 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. A Room in the Palace. - - Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Iras, 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 played -As with a woman. Come, you’ll play with me, sir? - -MARDIAN. -As well as I can, madam. - -CLEOPATRA. -And when good will is showed, though’t come too short, -The actor may plead pardon. I’ll none now. -Give me mine angle; we’ll to the river. There, -My music playing far off, I will betray -Tawny-finned 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! You’re caught.” - -CHARMIAN. -’Twas merry when -You wagered 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 laughed 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 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 lipped, and trembled kissing. - -MESSENGER. -First, madam, he’s 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. So tart a favour -To trumpet such good tidings! If not well, -Thou shouldst come like a Fury crowned 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? - - [_Strikes him again._] - -Hence, 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 whipped with wire and stewed 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 lived 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 afeard to come. - -CLEOPATRA. -I will not hurt him. - - [_Exit Charmian._] - -These hands do lack nobility that they strike -A meaner than myself, since I myself -Have given myself the cause. - - Enter the Messenger again with Charmian. - -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 submerged and made -A cistern for scaled 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 thou’rt 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 dispraised 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, Lepidus, Antony, 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 moved pale Cassius to conspire? And what -Made the all-honoured, honest Roman, Brutus, -With the armed 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 angered 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’ercount thee. - -POMPEY. -At land indeed -Thou dost o’ercount me of my father’s house; -But since the cuckoo builds not for himself, -Remain in’t as thou mayst. - -LEPIDUS. -Be pleased 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 embraced. - -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 unhacked edges and bear back -Our targes undinted. - -CAESAR, ANTONY, and LEPIDUS. -That’s our offer. - -POMPEY. -Know, then, -I came before you here a man prepared -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 called 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 sealed 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 loved you much, but I ha’ praised ye -When you have well deserved 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? - -CAESAR, ANTONY, and LEPIDUS. -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 turned to a drinking. Pompey doth this -day laugh away his fortune. - -ENOBARBUS. -If he do, sure he cannot weep ’t back again. - -MENAS. -You have said, sir. We looked not for Mark Antony here. Pray you, is he -married to Cleopatra? - -ENOBARBUS. -Caesar’s sister is called Octavia. - -MENAS. -True, sir. She was the wife of Caius Marcellus. - -ENOBARBUS. -But she is now the wife of Marcus Antonius. - -MENAS. -Pray you, 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 used our throats in Egypt. - -MENAS. -Come, let’s away. - - [_Exeunt._] - -SCENE VII. On board Pompey’s Galley, lying near Misenum. - - Music. 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-coloured. - -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 partisan I could not heave. - -FIRST SERVANT. -To be called 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, Pompey, Lepidus, 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. -You’ve 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. -[_Whispers in ’s ear._] Forsake thy seat, I do beseech thee, captain, -And hear me speak a word. - -POMPEY. -[_Aside to Menas._] Forbear me till anon.— -This wine for Lepidus! - -LEPIDUS. -What manner o’ thing is your crocodile? - -ANTONY. -It is shaped, 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 its 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 called 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 thou’rt mad. - - [_Rises and walks aside._] - -The matter? - -MENAS. -I have ever held my cap off to thy fortunes. - -POMPEY. -Thou hast served 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 sayst 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 have’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 then 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 palled fortunes more. -Who seeks, and will not take when once ’tis offered, -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. Seest 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 is 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’ the 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 steeped 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 beat 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 vats our cares be drowned, - With thy grapes our hairs be crowned. - 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 -Anticked 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 Pompey, Caesar, Antony and Attendants._] - -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 hanged, sound out! - - [_Sound a flourish with drums._] - -ENOBARBUS. -Hoo, says ’a! There’s my cap! - -MENAS. -Hoo! Noble captain, come. - - [_Exeunt._] - - - - -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 -Pleased 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 achieved 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._] - -SCENE II. Rome. An Ante-chamber in Caesar’s house. - - Enter Agrippa at one door, Enobarbus at another. - -AGRIPPA. -What, are the brothers parted? - -ENOBARBUS. -They have dispatched 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 greensickness. - -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 bond -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 loved without this mean, if on both parts -This be not cherished. - -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 wailed, -Believe ’t, till I weep too. - -CAESAR. -No, sweet Octavia, -You shall hear from me still. The time shall not -Outgo 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._] - -SCENE III. Alexandria. A Room in the Palace. - - Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Iras and Alexas. - -CLEOPATRA. -Where is the fellow? - -ALEXAS. -Half afeared to come. - -CLEOPATRA. -Go to, go to. - - Enter a Messenger as before. - -Come hither, sir. - -ALEXAS. -Good majesty, -Herod of Jewry dare not look upon you -But when you are well pleased. - -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 looked 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-tongued or low? - -MESSENGER. -Madam, I heard her speak. She is low-voiced. - -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 prepared. - - [_Exit 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._] - -SCENE IV. Athens. A Room in 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 waged -New wars ’gainst Pompey; made his will, and read it -To public ear; -Spoke scantly 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 midway -’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._] - -SCENE V. Athens. Another Room in 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 murdered Pompey. - -ENOBARBUS. -Our great navy’s rigged. - -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._] - -SCENE VI. Rome. A Room in Caesar’s House. - - Enter Agrippa, Maecenas and Caesar. - -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 silvered, -Cleopatra and himself in chairs of gold -Were publicly enthroned. 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 showplace where they exercise. -His sons he there proclaimed the kings of kings: -Great Media, Parthia, and Armenia -He gave to Alexander; to Ptolemy he assigned -Syria, Cilicia, and Phoenicia. She -In th’ habiliments of the goddess Isis -That day appeared, and oft before gave audience, -As ’tis reported, so. - -MAECENAS. -Let Rome be thus informed. - -AGRIPPA. -Who, queasy with his insolence already, -Will their good thoughts call from him. - -CAESAR. -The people knows it and have now received -His accusations. - -AGRIPPA. -Who does he accuse? - -CAESAR. -Caesar, and that, having in Sicily -Sextus Pompeius spoiled, we had not rated him -His part o’ th’ isle. Then does he say he lent me -Some shipping, unrestored. Lastly, he frets -That Lepidus of the triumvirate -Should be deposed and, being, that we detain -All his revenue. - -AGRIPPA. -Sir, this should be answered. - -CAESAR. -’Tis done already, and messenger gone. -I have told him Lepidus was grown too cruel, -That he his high authority abused, -And did deserve his change. For what I have conquered -I grant him part; but then in his Armenia -And other of his conquered kingdoms, I -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 castaway! - -OCTAVIA. -You have not called me so, nor have you cause. - -CAESAR. -Why have you stolen 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, -Raised 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 unloved. 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 constrained, but did it -On my free will. My lord, Mark Antony, -Hearing that you prepared for war, acquainted -My grieved ear withal, whereon I begged -His pardon for return. - -CAESAR. -Which soon he granted, -Being an abstract ’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 a 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 perceived 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 determined things to destiny -Hold unbewailed their way. Welcome to Rome, -Nothing more dear to me. You are abused -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._] - -SCENE VII. Antony’s Camp near the Promontory of Actium. - - Enter Cleopatra and Enobarbus. - -CLEOPATRA. -I will be even with thee, doubt it not. - -ENOBARBUS. -But why, 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 denounced against us? Why should not we -Be there in person? - -ENOBARBUS. -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 spared. He is already -Traduced 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 admired -Than by the negligent. - -ANTONY. -A good rebuke, -Which might have well becomed 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 dared 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 manned, -Your mariners are muleteers, reapers, people -Engrossed 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 prepared 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-marked 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-manned, 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 used 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 -Beguiled 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._] - -SCENE VIII. A plain near Actium. - - Enter Caesar with his army and Taurus 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._] - -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._] - -SCENE X. Another part of the Plain. - -Canidius marching with his land army one way over the stage, and -Taurus, the Lieutenant of Caesar, with his Army, 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 kissed away -Kingdoms and provinces. - -ENOBARBUS. -How appears the fight? - -SCARUS. -On our side, like the tokened 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 appeared, -Both as the same—or, rather, ours the elder— -The breeze 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 loofed, -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._] - -SCENE XI. Alexandria. A Room in the Palace. - - Enter Antony with attendants. - -ANTONY. -Hark, the land bids me tread no more upon’t. -It is ashamed 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 resolved upon a course -Which has no need of you. Be gone. -My treasure’s in the harbour. Take it. O, -I followed 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 straightway. -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, Iras and Eros. - -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 declined, 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 -’Stroyed 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 played as I pleased, -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 he 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._] - -SCENE XII. Caesar’s camp in Egypt. - - Enter Caesar, Agrippa, Dolabella with others. - -CAESAR. -Let him appear that’s come from Antony. -Know you him? - -DOLABELLA. -Caesar, ’tis his schoolmaster— -An argument that he is plucked, when hither -He sends so poor a pinion of his wing, -Which had superfluous kings for messengers -Not many moons gone by. - - Enter Ambassador from Anthony. - -CAESAR. -Approach, and speak. - -AMBASSADOR. -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. - -AMBASSADOR. -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. - -AMBASSADOR. -Fortune pursue thee! - -CAESAR. -Bring him through the bands. - - [_Exit Ambassador, attended._] - -[_To Thidias_.] 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, Thidias; -Make thine own edict for thy pains, which we -Will answer as a law. - -THIDIAS. -Caesar, I go. - -CAESAR. -Observe how Antony becomes his flaw, -And what thou think’st his very action speaks -In every power that moves. - -THIDIAS. -Caesar, I shall. - - [_Exeunt._] - -SCENE XIII. Alexandria. A Room in the 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 nicked his captainship, at such a point, -When half to half the world opposed, 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 the Ambassador with Antony. - -ANTONY. -Is that his answer? - -AMBASSADOR. -Ay, my lord. - -ANTONY. -The Queen shall then have courtesy, so she -Will yield us up. - -AMBASSADOR. -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 declined, sword against sword, -Ourselves alone. I’ll write it. Follow me. - - [_Exeunt Antony and Ambassador._] - -ENOBARBUS. -Yes, like enough high-battled Caesar will -Unstate his happiness, and be staged 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 subdued -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 kneeled 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 fallen lord -Does conquer him that did his master conquer, -And earns a place i’ th’ story. - - Enter Thidias. - -CLEOPATRA. -Caesar’s will? - -THIDIAS. -Hear it apart. - -CLEOPATRA. -None but friends. Say boldly. - -THIDIAS. -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. - -THIDIAS. -So.— -Thus then, thou most renowned: Caesar entreats -Not to consider in what case thou stand’st -Further than he is Caesar. - -CLEOPATRA. -Go on; right royal. - -THIDIAS. -He knows that you embrace not Antony -As you did love, but as you feared him. - -CLEOPATRA. -O! - -THIDIAS. -The scars upon your honour, therefore, he -Does pity as constrained blemishes, -Not as deserved. - -CLEOPATRA. -He is a god and knows -What is most right. Mine honour was not yielded, -But conquered 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 Enobarbus._] - -THIDIAS. -Shall I say to Caesar -What you require of him? For he partly begs -To be desired 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? - -THIDIAS. -My name is Thidias. - -CLEOPATRA. -Most kind messenger, -Say to great Caesar this in deputation: -I kiss his conqu’ring 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. - -THIDIAS. -’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 mused of taking kingdoms in, -Bestowed his lips on that unworthy place -As it rained kisses. - - Enter Antony and Enobarbus. - -ANTONY. -Favours, by Jove that thunders! -What art thou, fellow? - -THIDIAS. -One that but performs -The bidding of the fullest man and worthiest -To have command obeyed. - -ENOBARBUS. -[_Aside_.] You will be whipped. - -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. - -THIDIAS. -Mark Antony— - -ANTONY. -Tug him away. Being whipp’d, -Bring him again. This jack of Caesar’s shall -Bear us an errand to him. - - [_Exeunt Servants with Thidias._] - -You were half blasted ere I knew you. Ha! -Have I my pillow left unpressed in Rome, -Forborne the getting of a lawful race, -And by a gem of women, to be abused -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 seal 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 Gneius Pompey’s, besides what hotter hours, -Unregistered 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 haltered neck which does the hangman thank -For being yare about him. - - Enter a Servant with Thidias. - -Is he whipped? - -SERVANT. -Soundly, my lord. - -ANTONY. -Cried he? And begged he 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 whipped 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 Thidias._] - -CLEOPATRA. -Have you done yet? - -ANTONY. -Alack, our terrene moon is now eclipsed, -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 severed navy too -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-sinewed, hearted, breathed, -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 tonight 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 IV - - -SCENE I. Caesar’s Camp at 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 whipped 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 tomorrow the last of many battles -We mean to fight. Within our files there are, -Of those that served 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 earned the waste. Poor Antony! - - [_Exeunt._] - -SCENE II. Alexandria. A Room in the 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. -Tomorrow, 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 tonight -Be bounteous at our meal.— - - Enter Servants. - -Give me thy hand. -Thou has been rightly honest; so hast thou, -Thou, and thou, and thou. You have served 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 clapped up together in -An Antony, that I might do you service -So good as you have done. - -ALL THE SERVANTS. -The gods forbid! - -ANTONY. -Well, my good fellows, wait on me tonight. -Scant not my cups, and make as much of me -As when mine empire was your fellow too -And suffered my command. - -CLEOPATRA. -[_Aside to Enobarbus_.] What does he mean? - -ENOBARBUS. -[_Aside to Cleopatra_.] To make his followers weep. - -ANTONY. -Tend me tonight; -May be it is the period of your duty. -Haply you shall not see me more, or if, -A mangled shadow. Perchance tomorrow -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 tonight 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-eyed. 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 tomorrow, and will lead you -Where rather I’ll expect victorious life -Than death and honour. Let’s to supper, come, -And drown consideration. - - [_Exeunt._] - -SCENE III. Alexandria. Before the Palace. - - Enter a Company of Soldiers. - -FIRST SOLDIER. -Brother, good night. Tomorrow 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. - - Enter two other Soldiers. - -SECOND SOLDIER. -Soldiers, have careful watch. - -THIRD SOLDIER. -And you. Good night, good night. - - [_They place themselves in every corner of the stage._] - -SECOND SOLDIER. -Here we. And if tomorrow -Our navy thrive, I have an absolute hope -Our landmen will stand up. - -FIRST SOLDIER. -’Tis a brave army, and full of purpose. - - [_Music of the hautboys under the stage._] - -SECOND SOLDIER. -Peace, what noise? - -FIRST SOLDIER. -List, list! - -SECOND SOLDIER. -Hark! - -FIRST SOLDIER. -Music i’ th’ air. - -THIRD SOLDIER. -Under the earth. - -FOURTH SOLDIER. -It signs well, does it not? - -THIRD SOLDIER. -No. - -FIRST SOLDIER. -Peace, I say! What should this mean? - -SECOND SOLDIER. -’Tis the god Hercules, whom Antony loved, -Now leaves him. - -FIRST SOLDIER. -Walk. Let’s see if other watchmen -Do hear what we do. - - [_They advance to another post._] - -SECOND SOLDIER. -How now, masters! - -ALL. -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. - -ALL. -Content. ’Tis strange. - - [_Exeunt._] - -SCENE IV. Alexandria. A Room in the Palace. - - Enter Antony and Cleopatra 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 thine iron on. -If fortune be not ours today, 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 today, and knew’st -The royal occupation, thou shouldst see -A workman in’t. - - Enter an Officer, armed. - -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. - -OFFICER. -A thousand, sir, -Early though’t be, have on their riveted trim -And at the port expect you. - - [_Shout. Trumpets flourish._] - - Enter other 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. [_Kisses her._] 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._] - -SCENE V. Antony’s camp near Alexandria. - - 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 prevailed -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 sayest 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._] - -SCENE VI. Alexandria. Caesar’s camp. - - Flourish. Enter Agrippa, Caesar with Enobarbus and Dolabella. - -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-nooked 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 van -That Antony may seem to spend his fury -Upon himself. - - [_Exeunt Caesar and his Train._] - -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 -Caesar hath hanged 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 safed 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._] - -SCENE VII. Field of battle between the Camps. - - Alarum. Drums and Trumpets. Enter Agrippa and others. - -AGRIPPA. -Retire! We have engaged 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. - - _Sounds retreat far off._ -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._] - -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. -Tomorrow, -Before the sun shall see’s, we’ll spill the blood -That has today escaped. I thank you all, -For doughty-handed are you, and have fought -Not as you served 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 honoured gashes whole. - - Enter Cleopatra. - -[_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 armed 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 today -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 deserved it, were it carbuncled -Like holy Phœbus’ car. Give me thy hand. -Through Alexandria make a jolly march; -Bear our hacked 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._] - -SCENE IX. Caesar’s camp. - - Enter a Sentry and his company. Enobarbus follows. - -SENTRY. -If we be not relieved 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. - -SENTRY. -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. - -SENTRY. -Let’s hear him, for the things he speaks may concern Caesar. - -SECOND WATCH. -Let’s do so. But he sleeps. - -SENTRY. -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? - -SENTRY. -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._] - -SCENE X. Ground between the two Camps. - - Enter Antony and Scarus with their army. - -ANTONY. -Their preparation is today 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._] - -SCENE XI. Another part of the Ground. - - Enter Caesar and his army. - -CAESAR. -But being charged, 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._] - -SCENE XII. Another part of the Ground. - - Alarum afar off, as at a sea fight. Enter Antony and Scarus. - -ANTONY. -Yet they are not joined. 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 augurs -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. - - 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-turned 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 revenged upon my charm, -I have done all. Bid them all fly! Be gone! - - [_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 spanieled me at heels, to whom I gave -Their wishes, do discandy, melt their sweets -On blossoming Caesar, and this pine is barked -That overtopped them all. Betray’d I am: -O this false soul of Egypt! This grave charm, -Whose eye becked forth my wars and called them home, -Whose bosom was my crownet, my chief end, -Like a right gypsy hath at fast and loose -Beguiled me to the very heart of loss. -What, Eros, Eros! - - Enter Cleopatra. - -Ah, thou spell! Avaunt! - -CLEOPATRA. -Why is my lord enraged 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 dolts, and let -Patient Octavia plough thy visage up -With her prepared nails. - - [_Exit Cleopatra._] - -’Tis well thou’rt 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 grasped 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._] - -SCENE XIII. Alexandria. A Room in the 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 embossed. - -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._] - -SCENE XIV. Alexandria. Another Room. - - 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 towered citadel, a pendant 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 annexed unto’t -A million more, now lost—she, Eros, has -Packed cards with Caesar, and false-played 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 robbed me of my sword. - -MARDIAN. -No, Antony, -My mistress loved thee and her fortunes mingled -With thine entirely. - -ANTONY. -Hence, saucy eunuch! Peace! -She hath betrayed me and shall die the death. - -MARDIAN. -Death of one person can be paid but once, -And that she has discharged. 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 rendered 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! - - Enter Eros. - -EROS. -What would my lord? - -ANTONY. -Since Cleopatra died, -I have lived in such dishonour that the gods -Detest my baseness. I, that with my sword -Quartered 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 windowed in great Rome and see -Thy master thus with pleached arms, bending down -His corrigible neck, his face subdued -To penetrative shame, whilst the wheeled 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 cured. -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 unpurposed. 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! [_kills himself_] -Thus do I escape the sorrow -Of Antony’s death. - - [_Dies._] - -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 learned of thee. How? Not dead? Not dead? -The guard, ho! O, dispatch me! - - Enter a company of the Guard, one of them Dercetus. - -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 fallen. - -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 anyone. - - [_Exeunt guard._] - -DERCETUS. -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? - -DERCETUS. -There, Diomed, there. - -DIOMEDES. -Lives he? Wilt thou not answer, man? - - [_Exit Dercetus._] - -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. -Locked 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 disposed with Caesar, and that your rage -Would not be purged, 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, bearing Antony._] - -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, -Proportioned to our cause, must be as great -As that which makes it. - - Enter, below Diomedes. - -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 triumphed 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-fortuned Caesar ever shall -Be brooched 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-winged Mercury should fetch thee up -And set thee by Jove’s side. Yet come a little; -Wishers were ever fools. O come, come come, - - [_They heave Antony aloft to Cleopatra._] - -And welcome, welcome! Die where thou hast lived; -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, -Provoked 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 lived 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 vanquished. 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, withered is the garland of the war, -The soldier’s pole is fallen; young boys and girls -Are level now with men. The odds is gone, -And there is nothing left remarkable -Beneath the visiting moon. - - [_Faints._] - -CHARMIAN. -O, quietness, lady! - -IRAS. -She is 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 stolen our jewel. All’s but naught; -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, bearing off Antony’s body._] - - - - -ACT V - - -SCENE I. Caesar’s Camp before Alexandria. - - Enter Caesar, Agrippa, Dolabella, Maecenas, Gallus, Proculeius with - 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 Dercetus with the sword of Antony. - -CAESAR. -Wherefore is that? And what art thou that dar’st -Appear thus to us? - -DERCETUS. -I am called Dercetus. -Mark Antony I served, who best was worthy -Best to be served. 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? - -DERCETUS. -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. - -DERCETUS. -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 robbed his wound of it. Behold it stained -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 -Waged 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 touched. - -MAECENAS. -When such a spacious mirror’s set before him, -He needs must see himself. - -CAESAR. -O Antony, -I have followed 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, -Confined in all she has, her monument, -Of thy intents desires instruction, -That she preparedly may frame herself -To the way she’s forced 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 lean -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 of her. - -PROCULEIUS. -Caesar, I shall. - - [_Exit Proculeius._] - -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 employed. 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._] - -SCENE II. Alexandria. A Room in the Monument. - - Enter Cleopatra, Charmian and Iras. - -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 dung, -The beggar’s nurse and Caesar’s. - - Enter Proculeius. - -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 deceived -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 conquered 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. -You are fallen 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 kneeled 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 caused it. - - Enter Gallus and Roman Soldiers. - -You see how easily she may be surprised. -Guard her till Caesar come. - -IRAS. -Royal queen! - -CHARMIAN. -O Cleopatra, thou art taken, queen! - -CLEOPATRA. -Quick, quick, good hands. - - [_Drawing a dagger._] - -PROCULEIUS. -Hold, worthy lady, hold! - - [_Seizes and disarms her._] - -Do not yourself such wrong, who are in this -Relieved, but not betrayed. - -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 pinioned at your master’s court, -Nor once be chastised 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-naked, 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 you— - -CLEOPATRA. -His face was as the heavens, 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 reared 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 showed his back above -The element they lived in. In his livery -Walked crowns and crownets; realms and islands were -As plates dropped 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 dreaming. 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 pursued 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 it. - - Flourish. Enter Caesar, Proculeius, Gallus, Maecenas and others of his - train. - -ALL. -Make way there! Caesar! - -CAESAR. -Which is the Queen of Egypt? - -DOLABELLA. -It is the Emperor, madam. - - [_Cleopatra 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 shamed 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 possessed of. ’Tis exactly valued, -Not petty things admitted. Where’s Seleucus? - - Enter Seleucus. - -SELEUCUS. -Here, madam. - -CLEOPATRA. -This is my treasurer. Let him speak, my lord, -Upon his peril, that I have reserved -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 hired! 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 reserved, -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 reserved nor what acknowledged -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 cheered; -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 to 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. - - 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 performed -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 forced 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 placed, 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. - - 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._] - - 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 thou and nature can so gently part, -The stroke of death is as a lover’s pinch, -Which hurts and is desired. Dost thou lie still? -If thus 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 unparalleled. Downy windows, close, -And golden Phœbus never be beheld -Of eyes again so royal! Your crown’s awry; -I’ll mend it and then play. - - Enter the Guard rustling 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 beguiled. - -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 princess -Descended of so many royal kings. -Ah, soldier! - - [_Charmian dies._] - - 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 performed the dreaded act which thou -So sought’st to hinder. - - Enter Caesar and all his train, marching. - -ALL. -A way there, a way for Caesar! - -DOLABELLA. -O sir, you are too sure an augurer: -That you did fear is done. - -CAESAR. -Bravest at the last, -She levelled 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. -Poisoned then. - -FIRST GUARD. -O Caesar, -This Charmian lived but now; she stood and spake. -I found her trimming up the diadem -On her dead mistress; tremblingly she stood, -And on the sudden dropped. - -CAESAR. -O noble weakness! -If they had swallowed 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 pursued 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 omnes._] - - - - -AS YOU LIKE IT - - - - -Contents - - ACT I - Scene I. An Orchard near Oliver’s house - Scene II. A Lawn before the Duke’s Palace - Scene III. A Room in the Palace - - ACT II - Scene I. The Forest of Arden - Scene II. A Room in the Palace - Scene III. Before Oliver’s House - Scene IV. The Forest of Arden - Scene V. Another part of the Forest - Scene VI. Another part of the Forest - Scene VII. Another part of the Forest - - ACT III - Scene I. A Room in the Palace - Scene II. The Forest of Arden - Scene III. Another part of the Forest - Scene IV. Another part of the Forest. Before a Cottage - Scene V. Another part of the Forest - - ACT IV - Scene I. The Forest of Arden - Scene II. Another part of the Forest - Scene III. Another part of the Forest - - ACT V - Scene I. The Forest of Arden - Scene II. Another part of the Forest - Scene III. Another part of the Forest - Scene IV. Another part of the Forest - Epilogue - - -Dramatis Personæ - -ORLANDO, youngest son of Sir Rowland de Boys -OLIVER, eldest son of Sir Rowland de Boys -JAQUES DE BOYS, second son of Sir Rowland de Boys -ADAM, Servant to Oliver -DENNIS, Servant to Oliver - -ROSALIND, Daughter of Duke Senior -CELIA, Daughter of Duke Frederick -TOUCHSTONE, a Clown - -DUKE SENIOR (Ferdinand), living in exile - -JAQUES, Lord attending on the Duke Senior -AMIENS, Lord attending on the Duke Senior - -DUKE FREDERICK, Brother to the Duke, and Usurper of his Dominions -CHARLES, his Wrestler -LE BEAU, a Courtier attending upon Frederick - -CORIN, Shepherd -SILVIUS, Shepherd -PHOEBE, a Shepherdess -AUDREY, a Country Wench -WILLIAM, a Country Fellow, in love with Audrey -SIR OLIVER MARTEXT, a Vicar - -A person representing HYMEN - -Lords belonging to the two Dukes; Pages, Foresters, and other -Attendants. - -The scene lies first near Oliver’s house; afterwards partly in the -Usurper’s court and partly in the Forest of Arden. - - - - -ACT I - -SCENE I. An Orchard near 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 sayst, 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 -hired; 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 anything. - -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 naught 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! - -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 pulled out thy tongue for saying so. Thou -has railed 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 charged you in -his will to give me good education. You have trained 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. -Was 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 tomorrow 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 tomorrow 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 disguised against me to try a fall. Tomorrow, -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 a 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 tomorrow 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 schooled 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 misprized. 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._] - -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 tempered 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 -is 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 whipped 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-crammed. - -CELIA. -All the better; we shall be the more marketable. -_Bonjour_, 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 served 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. - -DUKE 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. - -DUKE FREDERICK. -How now, daughter and cousin? Are you crept hither to see the -wrestling? - -ROSALIND. -Ay, my liege, so please you give us leave. - -DUKE 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. - -DUKE FREDERICK. -Do so; I’ll not be by. - -[_Duke Frederick steps aside._] - -LE BEAU. -Monsieur the challenger, the Princess calls for you. - -ORLANDO. -I attend them with all respect and duty. - -ROSALIND. -Young man, have you challenged 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 judgement, 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 misprized. 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 anything. But let -your fair eyes and gentle wishes go with me to my trial, wherein if I -be foiled there is but one shamed that was never gracious; if killed, -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 deceived 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. - -DUKE 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 mocked 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. - -[_Orlando and Charles 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._] - -DUKE FREDERICK. -No more, no more. - -ORLANDO. -Yes, I beseech your grace. I am not yet well breathed. - -DUKE FREDERICK. -How dost thou, Charles? - -LE BEAU. -He cannot speak, my lord. - -DUKE FREDERICK. -Bear him away. - -[_Charles is carried off by Attendants._] - -What is thy name, young man? - -ORLANDO. -Orlando, my liege, the youngest son of Sir Rowland de Boys. - -DUKE FREDERICK. -I would thou hadst been son to some man else. -The world esteemed thy father honourable, -But I did find him still mine enemy. -Thou shouldst have better pleased 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 Frederick, Le Beau and Lords._] - -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 loved 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 ventured. - -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 deserved. -If you do keep your promises in love -But justly, as you have exceeded 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 urged conference. -O poor Orlando, thou art overthrown. -Or Charles or something weaker masters thee. - -Enter Le Beau. - -LE BEAU. -Good sir, I do in friendship counsel you -To leave this place. Albeit you have deserved -High commendation, true applause, and love, -Yet such is now the Duke’s condition -That he misconsters 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 banished Duke, -And here detained 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. A Room in the 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 lamed 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 loved 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. - -DUKE FREDERICK. -Mistress, dispatch you with your safest haste, -And get you from our court. - -ROSALIND. -Me, uncle? - -DUKE FREDERICK. -You, cousin. -Within these ten days if that thou be’st 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. - -DUKE 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. - -DUKE 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 banished 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. - -DUKE FREDERICK. -Ay, Celia, we stayed her for your sake, -Else had she with her father ranged 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, learned, played, ate together, -And wheresoe’er we went, like Juno’s swans, -Still we went coupled and inseparable. - -DUKE 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 passed upon her. She is banished. - -CELIA. -Pronounce that sentence then on me, my liege. -I cannot live out of her company. - -DUKE 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 Frederick 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 grieved than I am. - -ROSALIND. -I have more cause. - -CELIA. -Thou hast not, cousin. -Prithee be cheerful. Know’st thou not the Duke -Hath banished 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 sundered? 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 change 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 curtal-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 called? - -CELIA. -Something that hath a reference to my state: -No longer Celia, but Aliena. - -ROSALIND. -But, cousin, what if we assayed 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._] - - - - -ACT II - -SCENE I. The Forest of Arden - - -Enter Duke Senior, Amiens and two or three Lords, dressed as 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. - -AMIENS. -I would not change it. 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 gored. - -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 banished you. -Today 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 sequestered stag, -That from the hunter’s aim had ta’en a hurt, -Did come to languish; and indeed, my lord, -The wretched animal heaved forth such groans -That their discharge did stretch his leathern coat -Almost to bursting, and the big round tears -Coursed 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 assigned 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. A Room in the Palace - -Enter Duke Frederick with Lords. - -DUKE 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 untreasured of their mistress. - -SECOND LORD. -My lord, the roynish clown, at whom so oft -Your grace was wont to laugh, is also missing. -Hesperia, 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. - -DUKE 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 boisterous 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 saved 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 thee -To the last gasp with truth and loyalty. -From seventeen years till now almost fourscore -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 as Ganymede, Celia as Aliena, and 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 loved ere now. - -SILVIUS. -No, Corin, being old, thou canst not guess, -Though in thy youth thou wast as true a lover -As ever sighed 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 loved. -Or if thou hast not sat as I do now, -Wearing thy hearer in thy mistress’ praise, -Thou hast not loved. -Or if thou hast not broke from company -Abruptly, as my passion now makes me, -Thou hast not loved. -O Phoebe, Phoebe, Phoebe! - -[_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 batlet, and the cow’s dugs that her pretty chopped -hands had milked; and I remember the wooing of a 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 kinsman. - -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 oppressed, -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 anything. - -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. - -AMIENS. -[_Sings_.] - - 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 I 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 too 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. - -AMIENS. -[_Sings_.] - - Who doth ambition shun - And loves to live i’ th’ sun, - Seeking the food he eats - And pleased 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 prepared. - -[_Exeunt severally._] - -SCENE VI. Another part of 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 thee presently, -and if I bring thee not something to eat, I’ll 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. Another part of the Forest - -Enter Duke Senior, Amiens and Lords as outlaws. - -DUKE SENIOR. -I think he be transformed 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 basked him in the sun, -And railed 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 crammed -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 judgements -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 anatomized -Even by the squandering 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 weary 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 wronged him. If it do him right, -Then he hath wronged himself. If he be free, -Why then my taxing like a wild-goose flies -Unclaimed of any man. But who comes here? - -Enter Orlando with sword drawn. - -ORLANDO. -Forbear, and eat no more. - -JAQUES. -Why, I have eat none yet. - -ORLANDO. -Nor shalt not till necessity be served. - -JAQUES. -Of what kind should this cock come of? - -DUKE SENIOR. -Art thou thus boldened, man, by thy distress? -Or else a rude despiser of good manners, -That in civility thou seem’st so empty? - -ORLANDO. -You touched my vein at first. The thorny point -Of bare distress hath ta’en from me the show -Of smooth civility; yet am 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 answered 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 looked on better days, -If ever been where bells have knolled to church, -If ever sat at any good man’s feast, -If ever from your eyelids wiped 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 knolled to church, -And sat at good men’s feasts, and wiped our eyes -Of drops that sacred pity hath engendered. -And therefore sit you down in gentleness, -And take upon command what help we have -That to your wanting may be ministered. - -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 -Limped in pure love. Till he be first sufficed, -Oppressed 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 schoolboy, 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 lined, -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 slippered pantaloon, -With spectacles on nose and pouch on side, -His youthful hose, well saved, 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 everything. - -Enter Orlando bearing 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. - - -AMIENS. (_Sings_.) - 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 remembered not. -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. - -DUKE SENIOR. -If that you were the good Sir Rowland’s son, -As you have whispered faithfully you were, -And as mine eye doth his effigies witness -Most truly limned and living in your face, -Be truly welcome hither. I am the Duke -That loved 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. [_To Orlando_.] Give me your hand, -And let me all your fortunes understand. - -[_Exeunt._] - - - - -ACT III - -SCENE I. A Room in the Palace - - -Enter Duke Frederick, Lords and Oliver. - -DUKE 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 loved my brother in my life. - -DUKE 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 of Arden - -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 witnessed everywhere. -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 naught. 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 damned. - -CORIN. -Nay, I hope. - -TOUCHSTONE. -Truly, thou art damned, 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 tarred over with the surgery of our sheep; and would -you have us kiss tar? The courtier’s hands are perfumed 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 damned? 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 be’st not damned for this, the devil himself will have no -shepherds. I cannot see else how thou shouldst ’scape. - -Enter Rosalind as Ganymede. - -CORIN. -Here comes young Master Ganymede, my new mistress’s brother. - -ROSALIND. -[_Reads_.] - _From the east to western Inde - No jewel is like Rosalind. - Her worth being mounted on the wind, - Through all the world bears Rosalind. - All the pictures fairest lined - Are but black to Rosalind. - Let no face be kept in mind - But the fair of Rosalind._ - -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 Rosalind. - If the cat will after kind, - So be sure will Rosalind. - Winter garments must be lined, - So must slender Rosalind. - They that reap must sheaf and bind, - Then to cart with Rosalind. - Sweetest nut hath sourest rind, - Such a nut is Rosalind. - He that sweetest rose will find - Must find love’s prick, and Rosalind. -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 graft it with you, and then I shall graft 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 as Aliena, reading a paper. - -ROSALIND. -Peace, here comes my sister, reading. Stand aside. - -CELIA. -[_Reads_.] - _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 charged - That one body should be filled - With all graces wide-enlarged. - Nature presently distilled - Helen’s cheek, but not her heart, - Cleopatra’s majesty; - Atalanta’s better part, - Sad Lucretia’s modesty. - Thus Rosalind of many parts - By heavenly synod was devised, - Of many faces, eyes, and hearts - To have the touches dearest prized. - Heaven would that she these gifts should have, - And I to live and die her slave._ - -ROSALIND. -O most gentle Jupiter, 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 hanged 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 berhymed 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 removed 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 caparisoned 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 couldst stammer, that thou mightst pour -this concealed man out of thy mouth, as wine comes out of -narrow-mouthed 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 tripped 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 looked 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 dropped acorn. - -ROSALIND. -It may well be called Jove’s tree when it drops forth such fruit. - -CELIA. -Give me audience, good madam. - -ROSALIND. -Proceed. - -CELIA. -There lay he, stretched 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 -furnished 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. - -Enter Orlando and Jaques. - -CELIA. -You bring me out. Soft, comes he not here? - -ROSALIND. -’Tis he! Slink by, and note him. - -[_Rosalind and Celia step aside._] - -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 be wi’ 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 christened. - -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 conned 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 drowned 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.—Celia and Rosalind come forward._] - -ROSALIND. -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 solemnized. 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 -touched with so many giddy offences as he hath generally taxed 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-shaked. 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 -ungartered, your bonnet unbanded, your sleeve unbuttoned, your shoe -untied, and everything 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 -punished 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 cured 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. Another part of the Forest - -Enter Touchstone and Audrey; Jaques at a distance observing them. - -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 thatched -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-favoured; 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 promised 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 walled 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. - -Enter Sir Oliver Martext. - -Here comes Sir Oliver. 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. -[_Coming forward_.] Proceed, proceed. I’ll give her. - -TOUCHSTONE. -Good even, good Master What-ye-call’t, how do you, sir? You are very -well met. God ’ild you for your last company. I am very glad to see -you. Even a toy in hand here, sir. Nay, pray be covered. - -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 Touchstone, Audrey and Jaques._] - -MARTEXT. -’Tis no matter. Ne’er a fantastical knave of them all shall flout me -out of my calling. - -[_Exit._] - -SCENE IV. Another part of the Forest. Before a Cottage - -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 a 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 laughed -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 complained 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 played -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 Phoebe. - -SILVIUS. -Sweet Phoebe, do not scorn me, do not, Phoebe. -Say that you love me not, but say not so -In bitterness. The common executioner, -Whose heart th’ accustomed 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. - -PHOEBE. -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 called 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 Phoebe, -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. - -PHOEBE. -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-favoured 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. - -PHOEBE. -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? - -PHOEBE. -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 abused in sight as he. -Come, to our flock. - -[_Exeunt Rosalind, Celia and Corin._] - -PHOEBE. -Dead shepherd, now I find thy saw of might: -“Who ever loved that loved not at first sight?” - -SILVIUS. -Sweet Phoebe— - -PHOEBE. -Ha, what sayst thou, Silvius? - -SILVIUS. -Sweet Phoebe, pity me. - -PHOEBE. -Why, I am 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 extermined. - -PHOEBE. -Thou hast my love. Is not that neighbourly? - -SILVIUS. -I would have you. - -PHOEBE. -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 employed. - -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 scattered smile, and that I’ll live upon. - -PHOEBE. -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. - -PHOEBE. -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 mixed in his cheek. ’Twas just the difference -Betwixt the constant red and mingled damask. -There be some women, Silvius, had they marked 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 remembered, scorned at me. -I marvel why I answered 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. -Phoebe, with all my heart. - -PHOEBE. -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._] - - - - -ACT IV - -SCENE I. The Forest of Arden - - -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 gained my experience. - -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. - -Enter Orlando. - -ORLANDO. -Good day and happiness, dear Rosalind! - -JAQUES. -Nay, then, God be wi’ 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 clapped -him o’ the 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 -wooed 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 gravelled 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 dashed 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 lived many a fair year -though Hero had turned 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 drowned; 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 winged. - -ROSALIND. -Now tell me how long you would have her after you have possessed 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 disposed to be merry. I will laugh like a -hyena, and that when thou are inclined 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 keyhole. 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 misused our sex in your love-prate! We must have your -doublet and hose plucked 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, -conceived of spleen, and born of madness, that blind rascally boy that -abuses everyone’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. Another part of the Forest - -Enter Jaques and Lords, like foresters. - -JAQUES. -Which is he that killed the deer? - -FIRST 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? - -SECOND LORD. -Yes, sir. - -JAQUES. -Sing it. ’Tis no matter how it be in tune, so it make noise enough. - -SONG - -SECOND LORD. -[_Sings_.] - What shall he have that killed the deer? - His leather skin and horns to wear. - Then sing him home: - [_The rest shall bear this burden_.] - 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. Another part of 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. - -Enter Silvius. - -Look who comes here. - -SILVIUS. -My errand is to you, fair youth. -My gentle Phoebe did bid me give you this. - -[_Giving a letter._] - -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 tenor. 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. -Phoebe did write it. - -ROSALIND. -Come, come, you are a fool, -And turned into the extremity of love. -I saw her hand. She has a leathern hand, -A freestone-coloured 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 Ethiop 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 Phoebe’s cruelty. - -ROSALIND. -She Phoebes me. Mark how the tyrant writes. - -[_Reads._] - - _Art thou god to shepherd turned, - That a maiden’s heart hath burned?_ -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 thee - 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 endured! Well, go your way to her, for I see love hath made thee -a 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 sheepcote fenced 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 asked, 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 handkerchief was stained. - -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 mossed 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 wreathed itself, -Who with her head, nimble in threats, approached -The opening of his mouth. But suddenly, -Seeing Orlando, it unlinked 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 lived 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 sucked and hungry lioness? - -OLIVER. -Twice did he turn his back and purposed 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 awaked. - -CELIA. -Are you his brother? - -ROSALIND. -Was it you he rescued? - -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 bathed— -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 stripped 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 recovered 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, -Dyed in his blood, unto the shepherd youth -That he in sport doth call his Rosalind. - -[_Rosalind faints._] - -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._] - - - - -ACT V - -SCENE I. The Forest of Arden - - -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. - -Enter William. - -Here comes the man you mean. - -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 covered. 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 sayst 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 poured 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’errun 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 seek you. Come away, away. - -TOUCHSTONE. -Trip, Audrey, trip, Audrey! I attend, I attend. - -[_Exeunt._] - -SCENE II. Another part of 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. - -Enter Rosalind. - -ORLANDO. -You have my consent. Let your wedding be tomorrow. Thither will I -invite the Duke and all’s contented followers. Go you and prepare -Aliena; for, look you, here comes my 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 showed -me your handkercher? - -ORLANDO. -Ay, and greater wonders than that. - -ROSALIND. -O, I know where you are. Nay, ’tis true. There was never anything 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 looked; no sooner looked but they loved; no sooner loved but -they sighed; no sooner sighed but they asked 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 tomorrow, 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 tomorrow 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, tomorrow 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, -conversed 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 tomorrow, 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 tomorrow, you shall, and to Rosalind, if you will. - -Enter Silvius and Phoebe. - -Look, here comes a lover of mine and a lover of hers. - -PHOEBE. -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 followed by a faithful shepherd. -Look upon him, love him; he worships you. - -PHOEBE. -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 Phoebe. - -PHOEBE. -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 Phoebe. - -PHOEBE. -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 observance, -And so am I for Phoebe. - -PHOEBE. -And so am I for Ganymede. - -ORLANDO. -And so am I for Rosalind. - -ROSALIND. -And so am I for no woman. - -PHOEBE. -[_To Rosalind_.] If this be so, why blame you me to love you? - -SILVIUS. -[_To Phoebe_.] 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 Phoebe_.] I would love you if I could.—Tomorrow meet me all -together. -[_to Phoebe_.] I will marry you, if ever I marry woman, and I’ll be -married tomorrow. -[_to Orlando_.] I will satisfy you if ever I satisfied man, and you -shall be married tomorrow. -[_to Silvius_.] I will content you, if what pleases you contents you, -and you shall be married tomorrow. -[_to Orlando_.] As you love Rosalind, meet. -[_to Silvius_.] As you love Phoebe, 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. - -PHOEBE. -Nor I. - -ORLANDO. -Nor I. - -[_Exeunt._] - -SCENE III. Another part of the Forest - -Enter Touchstone and Audrey. - -TOUCHSTONE. -Tomorrow is the joyful day, Audrey, tomorrow 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. - -Enter two Pages. - -Here come two of the banished Duke’s 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 - -PAGES. -[_Sing_.] - It was a lover and his lass, - With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, - That o’er the green cornfield 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, the only pretty ring time, - When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding. - Sweet lovers love the spring. - - 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, the only pretty ring time, - When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding. - Sweet lovers love the spring. - - 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, the only pretty ring time, - When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding. - Sweet lovers love the spring. - -TOUCHSTONE -Truly, young gentlemen, though there was no great matter in the ditty, -yet the note was very untuneable. - -FIRST PAGE. -You are deceived, 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 be wi’ you, and God mend your voices. Come, Audrey. - -[_Exeunt._] - -SCENE IV. Another part of 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 Phoebe. - -ROSALIND. -Patience once more whiles our compact is urged. -[_To the Duke._] 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. -[_To Orlando_.] And you say you will have her when I bring her? - -ORLANDO. -That would I, were I of all kingdoms king. - -ROSALIND. -[_To Phoebe_.] You say you’ll marry me if I be willing? - -PHOEBE. -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? - -PHOEBE. -So is the bargain. - -ROSALIND. -[_To Silvius_.] You say that you’ll have Phoebe if she will? - -SILVIUS. -Though to have her and death were both one thing. - -ROSALIND. -I have promised 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, Phoebe, 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 tutored 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 -called 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 flattered 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-favoured thing, sir, but mine own; a poor humour of mine, sir, to -take that that no 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 called 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 called the “quip modest”. If again it was not well cut, he -disabled my judgement. This is called the “reply churlish”. If again it -was not well cut, he would answer I spake not true. This is called the -“reproof valiant”. If again it was not well cut, he would say I lie. -This is called 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 measured 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 peacemaker; much virtue in “if.” - -JAQUES. -Is not this a rare fellow, my lord? He’s as good at anything, 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 in woman’s clothes, 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 Senior_.] 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. - -PHOEBE. -If sight and shape be true, -Why then, my love adieu. - -ROSALIND. -[_To Duke Senior_.] I’ll have no father, if you be not he. -[_To Orlando_.] I’ll have no husband, if you be not he. -[_To Phoebe_.] 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. -[_To Orlando and Rosalind_.] You and you no cross shall part. -[_To Celia and Oliver_.] You and you are heart in heart. -[_To Phoebe_.] You to his love must accord -Or have a woman to your lord. -[_To Audrey and Touchstone_.] 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. - -PHOEBE. -[_To Silvius_.] 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, -Addressed 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 banished brother, -And all their lands restored to them again -That were with him exiled. This to be true -I do engage my life. - -DUKE SENIOR. -Welcome, young man. -Thou offer’st fairly to thy brother’s 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 endured 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 heaped 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 learned. -[_To Duke Senior_.] 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 victualled.—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 abandoned cave. - -[_Exit._] - -DUKE SENIOR. -Proceed, proceed! We will begin these rites, -As we do trust they’ll end, in true delights. - -[_Dance. Exeunt all but Rosalind._] - -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 furnished 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 simpering, 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 pleased me, complexions -that liked 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. - -[_Exit._] - - - - -THE COMEDY OF ERRORS - - - - -Contents - -ACT I -Scene I. A hall in the Duke’s palace -Scene II. A public place - -ACT II -Scene I. A public place -Scene II. The same - -ACT III -Scene I. The same -Scene II. The same - -ACT IV -Scene I. The same -Scene II. The same -Scene III. The same -Scene IV. The same - -ACT V -Scene I. The same - - - - -Dramatis Personæ - -SOLINUS, Duke of Ephesus. -EGEON, a Merchant of Syracuse. - -ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS, Twin brothers and sons to Egeon and -ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE, Emilia, but unknown to each other. - -DROMIO OF EPHESUS, Twin brothers, and attendants on -DROMIO OF SYRACUSE, the two Antipholuses. - -BALTHASAR, a Merchant. -ANGELO, a Goldsmith. -A MERCHANT, friend to Antipholus of Syracuse. -PINCH, a Schoolmaster and a Conjurer. -EMILIA, Wife to Egeon, an Abbess at Ephesus. -ADRIANA, Wife to Antipholus of Ephesus. -LUCIANA, her Sister. -LUCE, her Servant. -A COURTESAN -Messenger, Jailer, Officers, Attendants - -SCENE: Ephesus - - -ACT I - -SCENE I. A hall in the Duke’s palace - - Enter Duke, Egeon, Jailer, Officers and other Attendants. - -EGEON. -Proceed, Solinus, to procure my fall, -And by the doom of death end woes and all. - -DUKE. -Merchant of Syracusa, 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 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. - -EGEON. -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 departedst from thy native home, -And for what cause thou cam’st to Ephesus. - -EGEON. -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 Syracusa 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 distinguish’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. - -EGEON. -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 encountered 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-wrack’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. - -EGEON. -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 Egeon, 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 health by beneficial help. -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. -Jailer, take him to thy custody. - -JAILER. -I will, my lord. - -EGEON. -Hopeless and helpless doth Egeon wend, -But to procrastinate his lifeless end. - - [_Exeunt._] - -SCENE II. A public place - - Enter Antipholus and Dromio of Syracuse and a Merchant. - -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 dinnertime; -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 Dromio._] - -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? - -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 bedtime. -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. - -MERCHANT. -Sir, I commend you to your own content. - - [_Exit 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, failing 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 today. - -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 o’ 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 stay 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. - -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 Dromio._] - -ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. -Upon my life, by some device or other -The villain is o’er-raught 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._] - - - -ACT II - -SCENE I. A public place - - 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 masters of all these, -Lord of the wide world and wild wat’ry seas, -Indued 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 couldst not feel his meaning? - -DROMIO OF EPHESUS. -Nay, he struck so plainly I could too 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’s 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, yet often touching will -Wear 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 II. The same - - 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 wander’d 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. - - [_Beats Dromio._] - -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. And you use these blows long, I must get a sconce for my head, -and ensconce 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 dinner-time? - -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 proved there is no time for all things. - -DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. -Marry, and did, sir; namely, e’en 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 ’twould 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 distain’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 a 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 I not? - -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 today, -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._] - - - -ACT III - -SCENE I. The same - - Enter Antipholus of Ephesus, his man Dromio of Ephesus, Angelo the - goldsmith and Balthasar the merchant. - -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 tomorrow 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. -You’re sad, Signior Balthasar; pray God our cheer -May answer my good will and your good welcome here. - -BALTHASAR. -I hold your dainties cheap, sir, and your welcome dear. - -ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. -O, Signior Balthasar, either at flesh or fish -A table full of welcome makes scarce one dainty dish. - -BALTHASAR. -Good meat, sir, is common; that every churl affords. - -ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. -And welcome more common, for that’s nothing but words. - -BALTHASAR -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. -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. -Right, sir, I’ll tell you when an you’ll tell me wherefore. - -ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. -Wherefore? For my dinner. I have not dined today. - -DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. -Nor today 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. -The porter for this time, sir, and my name is Dromio. - -DROMIO OF EPHESUS. -O villain, thou hast stolen both mine office and my name; -The one ne’er got me credit, the other mickle blame. -If thou hadst been Dromio today in my place, -Thou wouldst have chang’d thy face for a name, or thy name for an ass. - - Enter Luce concealed from Antipholus of Ephesus and his companions. - -LUCE. -[_Within._] What a coil is there, Dromio, who are those at the gate? - -DROMIO OF EPHESUS. -Let my master in, Luce. - -LUCE. -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. -Have at you with another: that’s—When? can you tell? - -DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. -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. -I thought to have ask’d you. - -DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. -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. -Can you tell for whose sake? - -DROMIO OF EPHESUS. -Master, knock the door hard. - -LUCE. -Let him knock till it ache. - -ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. -You’ll cry for this, minion, if I beat the door down. - -LUCE. -What needs all that, and a pair of stocks in the town? - - Enter Adriana concealed from Antipholus of Ephesus and his companions. - -ADRIANA. -[_Within._] Who is that at the door that keeps all this noise? - -DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. -By my troth, your town is troubled with unruly boys. - -ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. -Are you there, wife? you might have come before. - -ADRIANA. -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. - -BALTHASAR. -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. -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. -It seems thou want’st breaking; out upon thee, hind! - -DROMIO OF EPHESUS. -Here’s too much “out upon thee”; I pray thee, let me in. - -DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. -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. - -BALTHASAR. -Have patience, sir. O, let it not be so: -Herein you war against your reputation, -And draw within the compass of suspect -The 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.—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 II. The same - - 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 on 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, -Smother’d 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 power 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 thee, and there lie, -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 aim 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 goodwill. - - [_Exit Luciana._] - - Enter Dromio of Syracuse. - -ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. -Why, how now, Dromio? where runn’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 a -Poland winter. If she lives till doomsday, she’ll burn a 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 overshoes 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; armed and reverted, making war against her hair. - -ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. -Where England? - -DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. -I looked 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, all o’er-embellished with rubies, carbuncles, -sapphires, declining their rich aspect to the hot breath of Spain, who -sent whole armadoes of carracks 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, called me Dromio, swore I was assured 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, amazed, 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 transformed me to a curtal dog, and made me -turn i’ the wheel. - -ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. -Go, hie thee presently, post to the road; -And if the wind blow any way from shore, -I will not harbour in this town tonight. -If any bark put forth, come to the mart, -Where I will walk till thou return to me. -If everyone 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 I 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._] - - - -ACT IV - -SCENE I. The same - - Enter Merchant, Angelo and an Officer. - -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 - Courtesan’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 furnished 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. -And 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. - -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. - -MERCHANT. -My business cannot brook this dalliance. -Good sir, say whe’er 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. - -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, bears away. Our fraughtage, sir, -I have convey’d aboard, and I have bought -The oil, the balsamum, and aqua-vitae. -The ship is in her trim; the merry wind -Blows fair from land; they stay for nought at all -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 thee 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 Merchant, Angelo, Officer and Antipholus of Ephesus._] - -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 II. The same - - 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. -Did’st 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 dryfoot well, -One that, before the judgement, 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. This I wonder at, - - [_Exit Luciana._] - -Thus he unknown to me should be in debt. -Tell me, was he arrested on a band? - -DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. -Not 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 he be in debt and theft, and a sergeant in the way, -Hath he not reason to turn back an hour in a day? - - Enter Luciana. - -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 III. The same - - 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 everyone 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 apparelled? - -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 killed 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 ’rests them; he, sir, that takes pity on decayed men and gives -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; he that brings any man to answer it -that breaks his band; one 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 -tonight? may we be gone? - -DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. -Why, sir, I brought you word an hour since that the bark _Expedition_ -put forth tonight, and then were you hindered by the sergeant to tarry -for the hoy _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 Courtesan. - -COURTESAN. -Well met, well met, Master Antipholus. -I see, sir, you have found the goldsmith now. -Is that the chain you promis’d me today? - -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. - -COURTESAN. -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. - -COURTESAN. -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 paring 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; and if you give it her, -The devil will shake her chain and fright us with it. - -COURTESAN. -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._] - -COURTESAN. -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 today 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 IV. The same - - Enter Antipholus of Ephesus with an 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 today, -And will not lightly trust the messenger -That I should be attach’d in Ephesus; -I tell you ’twill sound harshly in her ears. - - 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 a 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 waked with it -when I sleep, raised with it when I sit, driven out of doors with it -when I go from home, welcomed home with it when I return. Nay, I bear -it on my shoulders as a beggar wont her brat; and I think when he hath -lamed me, I shall beg with it from door to door. - - Enter Adriana, Luciana, Courtesan and a Schoolmaster called Pinch. - -ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. -Come, go along, my wife is coming yonder. - -DROMIO OF EPHESUS. -Mistress, _respice finem_, respect your end, or rather, the prophesy -like the parrot, “Beware the rope’s end.” - -ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. -Wilt thou still talk? - - [_Beats him._] - -COURTESAN. -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! - -COURTESAN. -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. - -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 today, -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. -Perdy, 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 a 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 today, -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. - - [_Enter three or four, and offer to bind him. He strives. _] - -ADRIANA. -O, bind him, bind him; let him not come near me. - -PINCH. -More company; the fiend is strong within him. - -LUCIANA. -Ay me, poor man, how pale and wan he looks! - -ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. -What, will you murder me? Thou jailer, 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. - -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 enter’d in bond for you. - -ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. -Out on thee, villain! 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 Pinch and Assistants, with Antipholus of Ephesus and Dromio - of Ephesus._] - -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. - -COURTESAN. -When as your husband, all in rage, today -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, jailer, 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, 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, I could find in my heart to stay here still and turn witch. - -ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. -I will not stay tonight for all the town; -Therefore away, to get our stuff aboard. - - [_Exeunt._] - - - -ACT V - -SCENE I. The same - - Enter Merchant and Angelo. - -ANGELO. -I am sorry, sir, that I have hinder’d you, -But I protest he had the chain of me, -Though most dishonestly he doth deny it. - -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. - -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 Antipholus, 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 today. -This chain you had of me, can you deny it? - -ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. -I think I had: I never did deny it. - -MERCHANT. -Yes, that you did, sir, and forswore it too. - -ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. -Who heard me to deny it or forswear it? - -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. - -MERCHANT. -I dare, and do defy thee for a villain. - - [_They draw._] - - Enter Adriana, Luciana, Courtesan 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 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. - -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 hindered 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 hinder’d 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’s 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 used 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 Abbess._] - -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. - -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? - -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; Egeon, 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, -Chased us away; till raising of more aid, -We came again to bind them. Then they fled -Into this abbey, whither we pursued 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 singed off with brands of fire, -And ever as it blazed 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 and Dromio of Ephesus. - -ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. -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. - -EGEON. -Unless the fear of death doth make me dote, -I see my son Antipholus and Dromio. - -ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. -Justice, sweet prince, against that woman there. -She whom thou gav’st to me to be my wife; -That hath abused and dishonour’d 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 OF EPHESUS. -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 -Today 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 perjur’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 disturb’d 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 Balthasar 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-faced 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 altogether -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. - -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 dined with her there, at the Porpentine. - -COURTESAN. -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? - -COURTESAN. -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._] - -EGEON. -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. - -EGEON. -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. - -EGEON. -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? - -EGEON. -Why look you strange on me? you know me well. - -ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. -I never saw you in my life till now. - -EGEON. -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. - -EGEON. -Dromio, nor thou? - -DROMIO OF EPHESUS. -No, trust me, sir, nor I. - -EGEON. -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. - -EGEON. -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. - -EGEON. -But seven years since, in Syracusa, 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 Syracusa in my life. - -DUKE. -I tell thee, Syracusian, twenty years -Have I been patron to Antipholus, -During which time he ne’er saw Syracusa. -I see thy age and dangers make thee dote. - - 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. -Egeon, art thou not? or else his ghost? - -DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. -O, my old master, who hath bound him here? - -ABBESS. -Whoever bound him, I will loose his bonds, -And gain a husband by his liberty. -Speak, old Egeon, if thou be’st the man -That hadst a wife once called Emilia, -That bore thee at a burden two fair sons. -O, if thou be’st the same Egeon, speak, -And speak unto the same Emilia! - -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. - -EGEON. -If I dream not, thou art Emilia. -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. -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 today? - -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. 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. - -COURTESAN. -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 sympathised 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 except the two Dromios and two Brothers._] - -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 today 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-faced 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 TRAGEDY OF CORIOLANUS - - - - -Contents - - ACT I - Scene I. Rome. A street - Scene II. Corioles. The Senate House - Scene III. Rome. An apartment in Martius’ house - Scene IV. Before Corioles - Scene V. Within Corioles. A street - Scene VI. Near the camp of Cominius - Scene VII. The gates of Corioles - Scene VIII. A field of battle between the Roman and the Volscian camps - Scene IX. The Roman camp - Scene X. The camp of the Volsces - - ACT II - Scene I. Rome. A public place - Scene II. Rome. The Capitol - Scene III. Rome. The Forum - - ACT III - Scene I. Rome. A street - Scene II. Rome. A room in Coriolanus’s house - Scene III. Rome. The Forum - - ACT IV - Scene I. Rome. Before a gate of the city - Scene II. Rome. A street near the gate - Scene III. A highway between Rome and Antium - Scene IV. Antium. Before Aufidius’s house - Scene V. Antium. A hall in Aufidius’s house - Scene VI. Rome. A public place - Scene VII. A camp at a short distance from Rome - - ACT V - Scene I. Rome. A public place - Scene II. An Advanced post of the Volscian camp before Rome. - Scene III. The tent of Coriolanus - Scene IV. Rome. A public place - Scene V. Rome. A street near the gate - Scene VI. Antium. A public place - - - - -Dramatis Personæ - -CAIUS MARTIUS CORIOLANUS, a noble Roman -VOLUMNIA, his mother -VIRGILIA, his wife -YOUNG MARTIUS, their son -VALERIA, friend to Volumnia and Virgilia -A GENTLEWOMAN, Volumnia’s attendant - -MENENIUS AGRIPPA, Friend to Coriolanus -COMINIUS, General against the Volscians -TITUS LARTIUS, General against the Volscians -SICINIUS VELUTUS, Tribune of the People -JUNIUS BRUTUS, Tribune of the People -A ROMAN HERALD - -TULLUS AUFIDIUS, General of the Volscians -LIEUTENANT, to Aufidius -Conspirators with Aufidius -A CITIZEN of Antium -TWO VOLSCIAN GUARDS - -Roman and Volscian Senators, Patricians, Aediles, Lictors, Soldiers, -Citizens, Messengers, Servants to Aufidius, and other Attendants - -SCENE: Partly in Rome, and partly in the territories of the Volscians -and Antiates. - - - - -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 resolved rather to die than to famish? - -ALL. -Resolved, resolved! - -FIRST CITIZEN. -First, you know Caius Martius 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 Martius? - -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-conscienced 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! - -Enter Menenius Agrippa. - -FIRST CITIZEN. -Soft, who comes here? - -SECOND CITIZEN. -Worthy Menenius Agrippa, one that hath always loved 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 cared for us yet. Suffer us to -famish, and their storehouses crammed 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 accused 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 -Rebelled against the belly, thus accused 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 answered— - -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 restrained, -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. -You 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 Martius. - -Hail, noble Martius. - -MARTIUS. -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. - -MARTIUS. -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 stored. - -MARTIUS. -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 quartered 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? - -MARTIUS. -They are dissolved. Hang ’em! -They said they were an-hungry, sighed 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 answered -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? - -MARTIUS. -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 unroofed the city -Ere so prevailed with me. It will in time -Win upon power and throw forth greater themes -For insurrection’s arguing. - -MENENIUS. -This is strange. - -MARTIUS. -Go get you home, you fragments. - -Enter a Messenger hastily. - -MESSENGER. -Where’s Caius Martius? - -MARTIUS. -Here. What’s the matter? - -MESSENGER. -The news is, sir, the Volsces are in arms. - -MARTIUS. -I am glad on’t. Then we shall ha’ means to vent -Our musty superfluity. - -Enter Sicinius Velutus, Junius Brutus, two Tribunes; Cominius, Titus -Lartius with other Senators. - -See, our best elders. - -FIRST SENATOR. -Martius, ’tis true that you have lately told us: -The Volsces are in arms. - -MARTIUS. -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. - -MARTIUS. -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 Martius, -Attend upon Cominius to these wars. - -COMINIUS. -It is your former promise. - -MARTIUS. -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? - -TITUS LARTIUS. -No, Caius Martius, -I’ll lean upon one crutch and fight with th’ 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. - -TITUS LARTIUS. -Lead you on. -Follow Cominius. We must follow you; -Right worthy your priority. - -COMINIUS. -Noble Martius. - -FIRST SENATOR. -[_To the Citizens_.] -Hence to your homes, begone. - -MARTIUS. -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. - -[_Exeunt. Sicinius and Brutus remain_.] - -SICINIUS. -Was ever man so proud as is this Martius? - -BRUTUS. -He has no equal. - -SICINIUS. -When we were chosen tribunes for the people— - -BRUTUS. -Marked you his lip and eyes? - -SICINIUS. -Nay, but his taunts. - -BRUTUS. -Being moved, 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’s well graced, cannot -Better be held nor more attained 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 Martius “O, if he -Had borne the business!” - -SICINIUS. -Besides, if things go well, -Opinion that so sticks on Martius shall -Of his demerits rob Cominius. - -BRUTUS. -Come. -Half all Cominius’ honours are to Martius, -Though Martius earned them not, and all his faults -To Martius 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 in singularity, he goes -Upon this present action. - -BRUTUS. -Let’s along. - -[_Exeunt._] - -SCENE II. Corioles. The Senate House - -Enter Tullus Aufidius with Senators of Corioles. - -FIRST SENATOR. -So, your opinion is, Aufidius, -That they of Rome are entered 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 pressed a power, but it is not known -Whether for east or west. The dearth is great. -The people mutinous; and, it is rumoured, -Cominius, Martius 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 veiled till when -They needs must show themselves, which, in the hatching, -It seemed, appeared to Rome. By the discovery -We shall be shortened 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 Corioles. -If they set down before’s, for the remove -Bring up your army. But I think you’ll find -They’ve not prepared 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 Martius 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. An apartment in Martius’ house - -Enter Volumnia and Virgilia, mother and wife to Martius. 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 plucked 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 pleased to let him seek danger where he was -like to find fame. To a cruel war I sent him, from whence he returned, -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 Martius, 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 mailed hand then wiping, forth he goes -Like to a harvestman that’s tasked 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, looked 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. - -Enter Valeria with an Usher and a Gentlewoman. - -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 looked upon him o’ Wednesday half an hour together. H’as such -a confirmed 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, catched it again. Or whether his fall -enraged him or how ’twas, he did so set his teeth and tear it. O, I -warrant how he mammocked 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 Corioles. 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 Corioles - -Enter Martius, Titus Lartius, with drum and colours, with Captains and -Soldiers, as before the city of Corioles. To them a Messenger. - -MARTIUS. -Yonder comes news. A wager they have met. - -LARTIUS. -My horse to yours, no. - -MARTIUS. -’Tis done. - -LARTIUS. -Agreed. - -MARTIUS. -[_To Messenger_.] 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. - -MARTIUS. -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. - -MARTIUS. -How far off lie these armies? - -MESSENGER. -Within this mile and half. - -MARTIUS. -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 Corioles. - -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 pinned 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. - -MARTIUS. -O, they are at it! - -LARTIUS. -Their noise be our instruction.—Ladders, ho! - -Enter the Army of the Volsces as through the city gates. - -MARTIUS. -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. - -[_Alarums. The Romans are beat back to their trenches. They exit, with -the Volsces following_.] - -Enter Martius cursing, with Roman soldiers. - -MARTIUS. -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 abhorred -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’s! - -[_Another alarum. The Volsces re-enter and are driven back to the gates -of Corioles, which open to admit them._] - -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. - -[_Martius follows the fleeing Volsces through the gates, and is shut -in._] - -FIRST SOLDIER. -Foolhardiness, not I. - -SECOND SOLDIER. -Nor I. - -FIRST SOLDIER. -See, they have shut him in. - -[_Alarum continues._] - -ALL. -To th’ pot, I warrant him. - -Enter Titus Lartius. - -LARTIUS. -What is become of Martius? - -ALL. -Slain, sir, doubtless. - -FIRST SOLDIER. -Following the fliers at the very heels, -With them he enters, who upon the sudden -Clapped 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, Martius. -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 thunderlike percussion of thy sounds -Thou mad’st thine enemies shake, as if the world -Were feverous and did tremble. - -Enter Martius, bleeding, assaulted by the enemy. - -FIRST SOLDIER. -Look, sir. - -LARTIUS. -O, ’tis Martius! -Let’s fetch him off or make remain alike. - -[_They fight, and all enter the city._] - -SCENE V. Within Corioles. 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. - -Enter Martius and Titus Lartius with a Trumpet. - -MARTIUS. -See here these movers that do prize their hours -At a cracked 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! - -[_Exit the Romans with spoils._] - -[_Alarum continues still afar off._] - -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. - -MARTIUS. -Sir, praise me not. -My work hath yet not warmed 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! - -MARTIUS. -Thy friend no less -Than those she placeth highest! So farewell. - -LARTIUS. -Thou worthiest Martius! - -[_Exit Martius._] - -Go sound thy trumpet in the marketplace. -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 charged 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 Corioles have issued, -And given to Lartius and to Martius battle. -I saw our party to their trenches driven, -And then I came away. - -COMINIUS. -Though thou speakest 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 forced to wheel -Three or four miles about; else had I, sir, -Half an hour since brought my report. - -[_Exit Messenger._] - -Enter Martius, bloody. - -COMINIUS. -Who’s yonder, -That does appear as he were flayed? O gods, -He has the stamp of Martius, and I have -Before-time seen him thus. - -MARTIUS. -Come I too late? - -COMINIUS. -The shepherd knows not thunder from a tabor -More than I know the sound of Martius’ tongue -From every meaner man. - -MARTIUS. -Come I too late? - -COMINIUS. -Ay, if you come not in the blood of others, -But mantled in your own. - -MARTIUS. -O, let me clip you -In arms as sound as when I wooed, in heart -As merry as when our nuptial day was done -And tapers burned to bedward! - -COMINIUS. -Flower of warriors, how is’t with Titus Lartius? - -MARTIUS. -As with a man busied about decrees, -Condemning some to death and some to exile; -Ransoming him or pitying, threat’ning the other; -Holding Corioles 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’s he? Call him hither. - -MARTIUS. -Let him alone. -He did inform the truth. But for our gentlemen, -The common file—a plague! Tribunes for them!— -The mouse ne’er shunned the cat as they did budge -From rascals worse than they. - -COMINIUS. -But how prevailed you? - -MARTIUS. -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. -Martius, we have at disadvantage fought, -And did retire to win our purpose. - -MARTIUS. -How lies their battle? Know you on which side -They have placed their men of trust? - -COMINIUS. -As I guess, Martius, -Their bands i’ th’ vaward are the Antiates, -Of their best trust; o’er them Aufidius, -Their very heart of hope. - -MARTIUS. -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 advanced 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. - -MARTIUS. -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 smeared; 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 Martius. - -[_He waves his sword._] - -[_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 obeyed. Please you to march, -And I shall quickly draw out my command, -Which men are best inclined. - -COMINIUS. -March on, my fellows. -Make good this ostentation, and you shall -Divide in all with us. - -[_Exeunt._] - -SCENE VII. The gates of Corioles - -Titus Lartius, having set a guard upon Corioles, going with drum and -trumpet toward Cominius and Caius Martius, 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 Martius and Aufidius at several doors. - -MARTIUS. -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. - -MARTIUS. -Let the first budger die the other’s slave, -And the gods doom him after! - -AUFIDIUS. -If I fly, Martius, -Hollo me like a hare. - -MARTIUS. -Within these three hours, Tullus, -Alone I fought in your Corioles’ walls, -And made what work I pleased. ’Tis not my blood -Wherein thou seest me masked. For thy revenge -Wrench up thy power to th’ highest. - -AUFIDIUS. -Wert thou the Hector -That was the whip of your bragged progeny, -Thou shouldst not scape me here. - -[_Here they fight, and certain Volsces come to the aid of Aufidius._] - -Officious and not valiant, you have shamed me -In your condemned seconds. - -[_Martius fights till they be driven in breathless. Aufidius and -Martius exit, separately._] - -SCENE IX. The Roman camp - -Alarum. A retreat is sounded. Flourish. Enter, at one door, Cominius -with the Romans; at another door, Martius, 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 quaked, 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 dined before. - -Enter Titus Lartius with his power, from the pursuit. - -LARTIUS. -O general, -Here is the steed, we the caparison. -Hadst thou beheld— - -MARTIUS. -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; -Induced 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 vouched, -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. - -MARTIUS. -I have some wounds upon me, and they smart -To hear themselves remembered. - -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 achieved and city, -We render you the tenth, to be ta’en forth -Before the common distribution -At your only choice. - -MARTIUS. -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 “Martius, Martius!” and 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-faced soothing! When steel grows soft -Soft as the parasite’s silk, let him be made -An ovator for the wars! No more, I say. -For that I have not washed my nose that bled, -Or foiled some debile wretch—which, without note, -Here’s many else have done—you shout me forth -In acclamations hyperbolical, -As if I loved my little should be dieted -In praises sauced 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 incensed, 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 Martius -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 Corioles, call him, -With all th’ applause and clamour of the host, -Caius Martius Coriolanus! Bear -Th’ addition nobly ever! - -[_Flourish. Trumpets sound, and drums._] - -ALL. -Caius Martius 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 Corioles 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 -Refused 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 Corioles -At a poor man’s house; he used me kindly. -He cried to me; I saw him prisoner; -But then Aufidius was within my view, -And wrath o’erwhelmed my pity. I request you -To give my poor host freedom. - -COMINIUS. -O, well begged! -Were he the butcher of my son, he should -Be free as is the wind.—Deliver him, Titus. - -LARTIUS. -Martius, his name? - -CORIOLANUS. -By Jupiter, forgot! -I am weary; yea, my memory is tired. -Have we no wine here? - -COMINIUS. -Go we to our tent. -The blood upon your visage dries; ’tis time -It should be looked to. Come. - -[_A flourish of cornets. 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. - -SOLDIER. -’Twill be delivered 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, Martius, -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. - -SOLDIER. -He’s the devil. - -AUFIDIUS. -Bolder, though not so subtle. My valour’s poisoned -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 Martius. 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. - -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. - -SOLDIER. -I shall, sir. - -[_Exeunt._] - - - - -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 Martius. - -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 Martius. - -BRUTUS. -He’s a lamb indeed, that baas like a bear. - -MENENIUS. -He’s a bear indeed, that lives like 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 Martius poor in, that you two have not in -abundance? - -BRUTUS. -He’s poor in no one fault, but stored 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 censured? - -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 Martius 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 -infantlike 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 -delivered 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 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 anything. 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 faucet-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 -pinched 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 entombed -in an ass’s packsaddle. Yet you must be saying Martius 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. -Good e’en 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. - -[_He begins to exit. Brutus and Sicinius stand 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 Martius approaches. For the love of Juno, -let’s go! - -MENENIUS. -Ha? Martius coming home? - -VOLUMNIA. -Ay, worthy Menenius, and with most prosperous approbation. - -MENENIUS. -Take my cap, Jupiter, and I thank thee! Hoo! Martius coming home? - -VALERIA, 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 tonight. A letter for me? - -VIRGILIA. -Yes, certain, there’s a letter for you; I saw it. - -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 he 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 disciplined 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 stayed by -him, I would not have been so ’fidiused for all the chests in Corioles -and the gold that’s in them. Is the Senate possessed 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! Martius 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 Martius: before him he carries noise, and -behind him he leaves tears. -Death, that dark spirit, in’s nervy arm doth lie, -Which, being advanced, declines, and then men die. - -[_A sennet_.] - -Enter Cominius the General and Titus Lartius, between them Coriolanus -crowned with an oaken garland, with Captains and Soldiers and a Herald. -Trumpets sound. - -HERALD. -Know, Rome, that all alone Martius did fight -Within Corioles’ gates, where he hath won, -With fame, a name to Caius Martius; these -In honour follows “Coriolanus.” -Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus. - -[_Sound 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, petitioned all the gods -For my prosperity. - -[_Kneels._] - -VOLUMNIA. -Nay, my good soldier, up. - -[_He stands._] - -My gentle Martius, worthy Caius, and -By deed-achieving honour newly named— -What is it? Coriolanus must I call thee? -But, O, thy wife— - -CORIOLANUS. -My gracious silence, hail. -Wouldst thou have laughed had I come coffined home, -That weep’st to see me triumph? Ah, my dear, -Such eyes the widows in Corioles 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 you’re 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 Volumnia and Virgilia_.] Your hand, and yours. -Ere in our own house I do shade my head, -The good patricians must be visited, -From whom I have received 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 of 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 smothered up, leads filled, and ridges horsed -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 veiled dames -Commit the war of white and damask in -Their nicely-gauded cheeks to th’ wanton spoil -Of Phoebus’ burning kisses. Such a pother, -As if that whatsoever god who leads him -Were slyly 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 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’ marketplace 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, silenced 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 it 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 Martius 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 scarves and handkerchiefs, -Upon him as he passed; 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 everyone 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 flattered 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, bonnetted, 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 ear 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. The Patricians -sit. Sicinius and Brutus take their places by themselves. Coriolanus -stands. - -MENENIUS. -Having determined 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 performed -By Martius Caius 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 blest to do if he remember -A kinder value of the people than -He hath hereto prized 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 disbenched you not? - -CORIOLANUS. -No, sir. Yet oft, -When blows have made me stay, I fled from words. -You soothed 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 monstered. - -[_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 uttered 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 counterpoised. 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’erpressed 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 proved best man i’ th’ field and for his meed -Was brow-bound with the oak. His pupil age -Man-entered thus, he waxed like a sea, -And in the brunt of seventeen battles since -He lurched all swords of the garland. For this last, -Before and in Corioles, let me say, -I cannot speak him home. He stopped the flyers -And by his rare example made the coward -Turn terror into sport. As weeds before -A vessel under sail, so men obeyed -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 timed with dying cries. Alone he entered -The mortal gate o’ th’ city, which he painted -With shunless destiny; aidless came off -And with a sudden reinforcement struck -Corioles 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 -Requickened 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 called -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 kicked at; -And looked 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 called for. - -FIRST SENATOR. -Call Coriolanus. - -OFFICER. -He doth appear. - -Enter Coriolanus. - -MENENIUS. -The Senate, Coriolanus, are well pleased -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 received 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. 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’ marketplace -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 called so of many; not that our heads are some brown, some -black, some auburn, some bald, but that our wits are so diversely -coloured; 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 -wedged up in a blockhead. 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 resolved 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 everyone 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._] - -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 roared 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 Menenius._] - -CORIOLANUS. -Bid them wash their faces -And keep their teeth clean. - -Enter three of the Citizens. - -So, here comes a brace. -You know the cause, sirs, 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, but 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 begged. I have your -alms. Adieu. - -THIRD CITIZEN. -But this is something odd. - -SECOND CITIZEN. -An ’twere to give again—but ’tis no matter. - -[_Exeunt two citizens._] - -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 does 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 heaped -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. - - -Enter three Citizens more. - -Here come more voices. -Your voices! For your voices I have fought; -Watched 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 THREE CITIZENS. -Amen, amen. God save thee, noble consul. - -[_Exeunt citizens._] - -CORIOLANUS. -Worthy voices! - -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 discharged. -The people do admit you, and are summoned -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 his heart. - -BRUTUS. -With a proud heart he wore -His humble weeds. Will you dismiss the people? - -Enter the Pebleians. - -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 mocked us when he begged 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 used us scornfully. He should have showed us -His marks of merit, wounds received 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 lessoned? 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-advised, had touched his spirit -And tried his inclination; from him plucked -Either his gracious promise, which you might, -As cause had called you up, have held him to; -Or else it would have galled 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 passed 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 sued-for tongues? - -THIRD CITIZEN. -He’s not confirmed. -We may deny him yet. - -SECOND CITIZEN. -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 scorned 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 laboured, -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, -Preoccupied 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’ Martians, from whence came -That Ancus Martius, 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, that was so surnamed, -And nobly named so, twice being 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. - -ALL. -We 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 caused -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 retired 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 called 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 passed the noble and the common? - -BRUTUS. -Cominius, no. - -CORIOLANUS. -Have I had children’s voices? - -FIRST SENATOR. -Tribunes, give way. He shall to the marketplace. - -BRUTUS. -The people are incensed 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 purposed 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 ruled. - -BRUTUS. -Call’t not a plot. -The people cry you mocked them; and, of late, -When corn was given them gratis, you repined, -Scandaled the suppliants for the people, called them -Timepleasers, flatterers, foes to nobleness. - -CORIOLANUS. -Why, this was known before. - -BRUTUS. -Not to them all. - -CORIOLANUS. -Have you informed 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 inquire 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 abused, set on. This palt’ring -Becomes not Rome, nor has Coriolanus -Deserved this so dishonoured 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 many, 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 ploughed for, sowed, and scattered -By mingling them with us, the honoured 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 leave 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 learned, -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 frowned 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’ marketplace. - -CORIOLANUS. -Whoever gave that counsel to give forth -The corn o’ th’ storehouse gratis, as ’twas used -Sometime in Greece— - -MENENIUS. -Well, well, no more of that. - -CORIOLANUS. -Though there the people had more absolute power, -I say they nourished 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 assured -They ne’er did service for’t. Being pressed to th’ war, -Even when the navel of the state was touched, -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 showed -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 multitude 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 barred, 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 th’ 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! Let him be apprehended. - -Enter an Aedile. - -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. - -ALL PATRICIANS. -We’ll surety him. - -COMINIUS. -[_to Sicinius_.] Aged sir, hands off. - -CORIOLANUS. -[_to Sicinius_.] 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. - -ALL PLEBEIANS. -Down with him, down with him! - -SECOND SENATOR. -Weapons, weapons, weapons! - -[_They all bustle about Coriolanus._] - -Tribunes, patricians, citizens, what, ho! -Sicinius, Brutus, Coriolanus, citizens! - -ALL. -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! - -ALL PLEBEIANS. -Let’s hear our tribune. Peace! Speak, speak, speak. - -SICINIUS. -You are at point to lose your liberties. -Martius would have all from you, Martius, -Whom late you have named 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? - -ALL PLEBEIANS. -True, -The people are the city. - -BRUTUS. -By the consent of all, we were established -The people’s magistrates. - -ALL 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, Martius 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! - -ALL PLEBEIANS. -Yield, Martius, 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 Martius, help! -You that be noble, help him, young and old! - -ALL 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. Begone, away. -All will be naught 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. Begone, beseech you. - -COMINIUS. -Come, sir, along with us. - -CORIOLANUS. -I would they were barbarians, as they are, -Though in Rome littered, not Romans, as they are not, -Though calved i’ th’ porch o’ th’ Capitol. - -MENENIUS. -Begone! -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 called 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 used to bear? - -MENENIUS. -Pray you, begone. -I’ll try whether my old wit be in request -With those that have but little. This must be patched -With cloth of any colour. - -COMINIUS. -Nay, come away. - -[_Exeunt Coriolanus and Cominius._] - -PATRICIAN. -This man has marred 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. - -PATRICIAN. -I would they were abed! - -MENENIUS. -I would they were in Tiber! What the vengeance, -Could he not speak ’em fair? - -Enter Brutus and Sicinius with 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 naught. - -FIRST CITIZEN. -He shall well know -The noble tribunes are the people’s mouths, -And we their hands. - -ALL 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? - -ALL 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 tonight. - -MENENIUS. -Now the good gods forbid -That our renowned Rome, whose gratitude -Towards her deserved children is enrolled -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 cam. - -BRUTUS. -Merely awry. When he did love his country, -It honoured him. - -MENENIUS. -The service of the foot, -Being once gangrened, 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 unscanned swiftness, will too late, -Tie leaden pounds to’s heels. Proceed by process, -Lest parties—as he is beloved—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 he could draw a sword, and is ill schooled -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 marketplace. We’ll attend you there, -Where if you bring not Martius, we’ll proceed -In our first way. - -MENENIUS. -I’ll bring him to you. -[_To 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. A room in Coriolanus’s house - -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 showed them how ye were disposed -Ere they lacked 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 counselled. -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 unsevered 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 rooted 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 required -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 loss -Of what is past. - -VOLUMNIA. -I prithee now, my son, -Go to them with this bonnet in thy hand, -And thus far having stretched 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 asked, as free -As words to little purpose. - -VOLUMNIA. -Prithee now, -Go, and be ruled; 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’ marketplace; 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 unbarbed 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 Martius, they to dust should grind it -And throw’t against the wind. To th’ marketplace! -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 turned, -Which choired 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 armed knees, -Who bowed but in my stirrup, bend like his -That hath received 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 marketplace. -Chide me no more. I’ll mountebank their loves, -Cog their hearts from them, and come home beloved -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 Volumnia._] - -COMINIUS. -Away! The Tribunes do attend you. Arm yourself -To answer mildly, for they are prepared -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 favoured him. - -SICINIUS. -Have you a catalogue -Of all the voices that we have procured, -Set down by th’ poll? - -AEDILE. -I have. ’Tis ready. - -SICINIUS. -Have you collected 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 confused -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 used -Ever to conquer and to have his worth -Of contradiction. Being once chafed, he cannot -Be reined 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 other Senators. - -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’ honoured 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. - -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 charged 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 proved 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 briars, -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 passed for consul with full voice, -I am so dishonoured 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 contrived to take -From Rome all seasoned 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 clutched 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? - -ALL 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 -Served 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, -Even 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. - -ALL PLEBEIANS. -It shall be so, it shall be so! Let him away! -He’s banished, and it shall be so. - -COMINIUS. -Hear me, my masters and my common friends— - -SICINIUS. -He’s sentenced. 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 banished -As enemy to the people and his country. -It shall be so. - -ALL 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, with other Senators._] - -AEDILE. -The people’s enemy is gone, is gone. - -ALL PLEBEIANS. -Our enemy is banished; he is gone. Hoo, hoo! - -[_They all shout and throw up their caps._] - -SICINIUS. -Go see him out at gates, and follow him, -As he hath followed you, with all despite. -Give him deserved vexation. Let a guard -Attend us through the city. - -ALL PLEBEIANS. -Come, come, let’s see him out at gates! Come! -The gods preserve our noble tribunes! Come. - -[_Exeunt._] - - - - -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 used -To say extremities was the trier of spirits; -That common chances common men could bear; -That when the sea was calm, all boats alike -Showed mastership in floating; fortune’s blows -When most struck home, being gentle wounded craves -A noble cunning. You were used to load me -With precepts that would make invincible -The heart that conned 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 loved when I am lacked. 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 saved -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 feared and talked 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 thee -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 unbruised. 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 two Tribunes, Sicinius, Brutus with the Aedile. - -SICINIUS. -Bid them all home. He’s gone, and we’ll no further. -The nobility are vexed, 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, you’re well met. The 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 Sicinius_.] Will you be gone? - -VIRGILIA. -[_To Brutus_.] 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. -More 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 incensed 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 banished, does exceed you all. - -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._] - -MENENIUS. -Fie, fie, fie! - -[_Exit Menenius._] - -SCENE III. A highway between Rome and Antium - -Enter a Roman and a Volsce. - -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 -approved 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 banished? - -ROMAN. -Banished, 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 fallen 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. - -[_Exeunt._] - -SCENE IV. Antium. Before Aufidius’s house - -Enter Coriolanus in mean apparel, disguised 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. - -[_Exit._] - -SCENE V. Antium. A hall in Aufidius’s house - -Music plays. Enter a Servingman. - -FIRST SERVINGMAN. -Wine, wine, wine! What service is here? I think our fellows are asleep. - -[_Exit._] - -Enter another Servingman. - -SECOND SERVINGMAN. -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. - -Enter the First Servingman. - -FIRST SERVINGMAN. -What would you have, friend? Whence are you? Here’s no place for you. -Pray go to the door. - -[_Exit._] - -CORIOLANUS. -I have deserved no better entertainment -In being Coriolanus. - -Enter Second Servingman. - -SECOND SERVINGMAN. -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 SERVINGMAN. -Away? Get you away. - -CORIOLANUS. -Now th’ art troublesome. - -SECOND SERVINGMAN. -Are you so brave? I’ll have you talked with anon. - -Enter Third Servingman; the First, entering, meets him. - -THIRD SERVINGMAN. -What fellow’s this? - -FIRST SERVINGMAN. -A strange one as ever I looked on. I cannot get him out o’ th’ house. -Prithee call my master to him. - -THIRD SERVINGMAN. -What have you to do here, fellow? Pray you, avoid the house. - -CORIOLANUS. -Let me but stand. I will not hurt your hearth. - -THIRD SERVINGMAN. -What are you? - -CORIOLANUS. -A gentleman. - -THIRD SERVINGMAN. -A marv’llous poor one. - -CORIOLANUS. -True, so I am. - -THIRD SERVINGMAN. -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 SERVINGMAN. -What, you will not?—Prithee, tell my master what a strange guest he has -here. - -SECOND SERVINGMAN. -And I shall. - -[_Exit._] - -THIRD SERVINGMAN. -Where dwell’st thou? - -CORIOLANUS. -Under the canopy. - -THIRD SERVINGMAN. -Under the canopy? - -CORIOLANUS. -Ay. - -THIRD SERVINGMAN. -Where’s that? - -CORIOLANUS. -I’ th’ city of kites and crows. - -THIRD SERVINGMAN. -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 SERVINGMAN. -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_.] - -[_Exit Third Servingman._] - -Enter Aufidius with the Second Servingman. - -AUFIDIUS. -Where is this fellow? - -SECOND SERVINGMAN. -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. -[_Removing his muffler_.] 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 Martius, 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 devoured the rest, -And suffered me by th’ voice of slaves to be -Whooped 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 feared 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 cankered country with the spleen -Of all the under fiends. But if so be -Thou dar’st not this, and that to prove more fortunes -Thou ’rt tired, 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 Martius, Martius, -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 Martius. Let me twine -Mine arms about that body, whereagainst -My grained ash an hundred times hath broke -And scarred 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 loved the maid I married; never man -Sighed 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 thee -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 waked half dead with nothing. Worthy Martius, -Had we no other quarrel else to Rome but that -Thou art thence banished, we would muster all -From twelve to seventy and, pouring war -Into the bowels of ungrateful Rome, -Like a bold flood o’erbear ’t. O, come, go in, -And take our friendly senators by th’ hands, -Who now are here, taking their leaves of me, -Who am prepared 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 experienced, 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, Martius, that was much. Your hand. Most welcome! - -[_Exeunt Coriolanus and Aufidius._] - -Two of the Servingmen come forward. - -FIRST SERVINGMAN. -Here’s a strange alteration! - -SECOND SERVINGMAN. -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 SERVINGMAN. -What an arm he has! He turned me about with his finger and his thumb as -one would set up a top. - -SECOND SERVINGMAN. -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 SERVINGMAN. -He had so, looking as it were—Would I were hanged, but I thought there -was more in him than I could think. - -SECOND SERVINGMAN. -So did I, I’ll be sworn. He is simply the rarest man i’ th’ world. - -FIRST SERVINGMAN. -I think he is. But a greater soldier than he you wot one. - -SECOND SERVINGMAN. -Who, my master? - -FIRST SERVINGMAN. -Nay, it’s no matter for that. - -SECOND SERVINGMAN. -Worth six on him. - -FIRST SERVINGMAN. -Nay, not so neither. But I take him to be the greater soldier. - -SECOND SERVINGMAN. -Faith, look you, one cannot tell how to say that. For the defence of a -town our general is excellent. - -FIRST SERVINGMAN. -Ay, and for an assault too. - -Enter the Third Servingman. - -THIRD SERVINGMAN. -O slaves, I can tell you news, news, you rascals! - -FIRST and SECOND SERVINGMAN. -What, what, what? Let’s partake. - -THIRD SERVINGMAN. -I would not be a Roman, of all nations; I had as lief be a condemned -man. - -FIRST and SECOND SERVINGMAN. -Wherefore? Wherefore? - -THIRD SERVINGMAN. -Why, here’s he that was wont to thwack our general, Caius Martius. - -FIRST SERVINGMAN. -Why do you say, “thwack our general”? - -THIRD SERVINGMAN. -I do not say “thwack our general,” but he was always good enough for -him. - -SECOND SERVINGMAN. -Come, we are fellows and friends. He was ever too hard for him; I have -heard him say so himself. - -FIRST SERVINGMAN. -He was too hard for him directly, to say the troth on’t, before -Corioles; he scotched him and notched him like a carbonado. - -SECOND SERVINGMAN. -An he had been cannibally given, he might have boiled and eaten him -too. - -FIRST SERVINGMAN. -But, more of thy news? - -THIRD SERVINGMAN. -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 polled. - -SECOND SERVINGMAN. -And he’s as like to do’t as any man I can imagine. - -THIRD SERVINGMAN. -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 whilest he’s in directitude. - -FIRST SERVINGMAN. -Directitude? What’s that? - -THIRD SERVINGMAN. -But when they shall see, sir, his crest up again, and the man in blood, -they will out of their burrows like coneys after rain, and revel all -with him. - -FIRST SERVINGMAN. -But when goes this forward? - -THIRD SERVINGMAN. -Tomorrow, today, 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 SERVINGMAN. -Why then, we shall have a stirring world again. This peace is nothing -but to rust iron, increase tailors, and breed ballad-makers. - -FIRST SERVINGMAN. -Let me have war, say I. It exceeds peace as far as day does night. It’s -sprightly walking, audible, and full of vent. Peace is a very apoplexy, -lethargy; mulled, deaf, sleepy, insensible; a getter of more bastard -children than war’s a destroyer of men. - -SECOND SERVINGMAN. -’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 SERVINGMAN. -Ay, and it makes men hate one another. - -THIRD SERVINGMAN. -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. - -ALL. -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 we 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. - -BRUTUS. -We stood to’t in good time. - -Enter Menenius. - -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 missed -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 if -He could have temporized. - -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. - -ALL CITIZENS. -The gods preserve you both! - -SICINIUS. -Good e’en, our neighbours. - -BRUTUS. -Good e’en to you all, good e’en to you all. - -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 wished Coriolanus -Had loved 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 Martius was -A worthy officer i’ th’ 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 two several powers -Are entered in the Roman territories, -And with the deepest malice of the war -Destroy what lies before ’em. - -MENENIUS. -’Tis Aufidius, -Who, hearing of our Martius’ banishment, -Thrusts forth his horns again into the world, -Which were inshelled when Martius stood for Rome, -And durst not once peep out. - -SICINIUS. -Come, what talk you of Martius? - -BRUTUS. -Go see this rumourer whipped. 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 coming -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 delivered. - -SICINIUS. -What more fearful? - -MESSENGER. -It is spoke freely out of many mouths— -How probable I do not know—that Martius, -Joined 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. -Raised only that the weaker sort may wish -Good Martius 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 Martius -Associated with Aufidius, rages -Upon our territories, and have already -O’erborne their way, consumed 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 dishonoured 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, confined -Into an auger’s bore. - -MENENIUS. -Pray now, your news?— -You have made fair work, I fear me.—Pray, your news? -If Martius should be joined with 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 mocked 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 charged him even -As those should do that had deserved his hate -And therein showed like 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. - -TRIBUNES. -Say not we brought it. - -MENENIUS. -How? Was it we? We loved 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 deserved it. - -ALL CITIZENS. -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. -You 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 home. Be not dismayed. -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 banished 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 -Joined 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 dragonlike, 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 controlled the war; but one of these— -As he hath spices of them all—not all, -For I dare so far free him—made him feared, -So hated, and so banished. 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._] - - - - -ACT V - -SCENE I. Rome. A public place - - -Enter Menenius, Cominius, Sicinius, Brutus (the two Tribunes), with -others. - -MENENIUS. -No, I’ll not go. You hear what he hath said -Which was sometime his general, who loved him -In a most dear particular. He called me father, -But what o’ that? Go you that banished him; -A mile before his tent, fall down, and knee -The way into his mercy. Nay, if he coyed -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 urged our old acquaintance, and the drops -That we have bled together. “Coriolanus” -He would not answer to, forbade all names. -He was a kind of nothing, titleless, -Till he had forged himself a name i’ th’ fire -Of burning Rome. - -MENENIUS. -Why, so; you have made good work! -A pair of tribunes that have wracked 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 punished. - -MENENIUS. -Very well. -Could he say less? - -COMINIUS. -I offered 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 Martius. - -MENENIUS. -Well, and say that Martius -Return me, as Cominius is returned, 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 dined. -The veins unfilled, our blood is cold, and then -We pout upon the morning, are unapt -To give or to forgive; but when we have stuffed -These pipes and these conveyances of our blood -With wine and feeding, we have suppler souls -Than in our priestlike 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 jailer to his pity. I kneeled before him; -’Twas very faintly he said “Rise”; dismissed 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. An Advanced post of the Volscian camp before Rome. - -Enter Menenius to the Watch, or 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 embraced 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 touched 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 unparalleled happily 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 stamped 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 dined, can’st 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 pushed 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 decayed 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 -deceived. Therefore back to Rome and prepare for your execution. You -are condemned. 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. - -SECOND 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. [_to Coriolanus_.] 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 begone. -Mine ears against your suits are stronger than -Your gates against my force. Yet, for I loved thee, -Take this along; I writ it for thy sake, - -[_He gives Menenius a paper._] - -And would have sent it. Another word, Menenius, -I will not hear thee speak.—This man, Aufidius, -Was my beloved in Rome; yet thou behold’st. - -AUFIDIUS. -You keep a constant temper. - -[_They exit._] - -[_The Guard and Menenius remain._] - -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, you’re 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 is the rock, the oak not to be -wind-shaken. - -[_Exeunt._] - -SCENE III. The tent of Coriolanus - -Enter Coriolanus and Aufidius. - -CORIOLANUS. -We will before the walls of Rome tomorrow -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, stopped 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 cracked heart I have sent to Rome, -Loved 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 showed sourly to him—once more offered -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 Virgilia, Volumnia, Valeria, young Martius with attendants. - -My wife comes foremost, then the honoured mold -Wherein this trunk was framed, 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 changed -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.” - -[_They kiss._] - -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 virgined 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, - -[_He rises_.] - -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. - -[_She kneels._] - -CORIOLANUS. -What is this? -Your knees to me? To your corrected son? - -[_He raises her up._] - -Then let the pebbles on the hungry beach -Fillip the stars! Then let the mutinous winds -Strike the proud cedars ’gainst the fiery sun, -Murdering 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 seamark standing every flaw -And saving those that eye thee. - -VOLUMNIA. -[_To young Martius_.] Your knee, sirrah. - -[_He kneels._] - -CORIOLANUS. -That’s my brave boy! - -VOLUMNIA. -Even he, your wife, this lady, and myself -Are suitors to you. - -[_Young Martius rises._] - -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 anything; -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 naught 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 barr’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 cannot 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. - -YOUNG MARTIUS. -He 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. - -[_He rises._] - -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 showed,” the Romans -“This we received,” and each in either side -Give the all-hail to thee and cry, “Be blessed -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 dogged with curses, -Whose chronicle thus writ: “The man was noble, -But with his last attempt he wiped it out; -Destroyed his country, and his name remains -To th’ ensuing age abhorred.” 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 -Showed thy dear mother any courtesy -When she, poor hen, fond of no second brood, -Has clucked thee to the wars and safely home, -Loaden with honour. Say my request’s unjust -And spurn me back; but if it be 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. - -[_They kneel._] - -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. - -[_They rise._] - -This fellow had a Volscian to his mother, -His wife is in Corioles, and his child -Like him by chance.—Yet give us our dispatch. -I am hushed 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 prevailed, -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 moved 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’ll 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! - -[_He speaks with them aside._] - -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 Women_.] Ay, by and by; -But we’ll drink together, and you shall bear -A better witness back than words, which we, -On like conditions, will have countersealed. -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’ the 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 sentenced -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 Martius is grown from man to dragon. He has wings; -he’s more than a creeping thing. - -SICINIUS. -He loved 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 finished 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 banished -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 prevailed. -The Volscians are dislodged and Martius 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 lurked 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 prayed well today. -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 Ladies (Volumnia, Virgilia, Valeria) passing -over the stage, with other Lords. - -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 banished Martius, -Repeal him with the welcome of his mother. -Cry “Welcome, ladies, welcome!” - -ALL. -Welcome, ladies, welcome! - -[_A flourish with drums and trumpets._] - -[_Exeunt._] - -SCENE VI. Antium. A public place - -Enter Tullus Aufidius with Attendants. - -AUFIDIUS. -Go tell the lords o’ th’ city I am here. -Deliver them this paper. - -[_He gives them a paper_.] - -Having read it, -Bid them repair to th’ marketplace, 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 entered and -Intends t’ appear before the people, hoping -To purge himself with words. Dispatch. - -[_Exeunt Attendants._] - -Enter three or four Conspirators of Aufidius’s faction. - -Most welcome! - -FIRST CONSPIRATOR. -How is it with our general? - -AUFIDIUS. -Even so -As with a man by his own alms empoisoned -And with his charity slain. - -SECOND CONSPIRATOR. -Most noble sir, -If you do hold the same intent wherein -You wished 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 raised him, and I pawned -Mine honour for his truth, who being so heightened, -He watered his new plants with dews of flattery, -Seducing so my friends; and to this end, -He bowed 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 spoke of. -Being banished 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; served 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 seemed his follower, not partner; and -He waged me with his countenance as if -I had been mercenary. - -FIRST CONSPIRATOR. -So he did, my lord. -The army marvelled at it, and, in the last, -When he had carried Rome and that we looked -For no less spoil than glory— - -AUFIDIUS. -There was it -For which my sinews shall be stretched 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 entered 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 pronounced shall bury -His reasons with his body. - -AUFIDIUS. -Say no more. -Here come the lords. - -Enter the Lords of the city. - -ALL LORDS. -You are most welcome home. - -AUFIDIUS. -I have not deserved it. -But, worthy lords, have you with heed perused -What I have written to you? - -ALL 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. - -Enter Coriolanus marching with Drum and Colours, the Commoners being -with him. - -AUFIDIUS. -He approaches. You shall hear him. - -CORIOLANUS. -Hail, lords! I am returned 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, -Subscribed by th’ Consuls and patricians, -Together with the seal o’ th’ Senate, what -We have compounded on. - -[_He offers the lords a paper._] - -AUFIDIUS. -Read it not, noble lords, -But tell the traitor in the highest degree -He hath abused your powers. - -CORIOLANUS. -“Traitor?” How now? - -AUFIDIUS. -Ay, traitor, Martius. - -CORIOLANUS. -Martius? - -AUFIDIUS. -Ay, Martius, Caius Martius. Dost thou think -I’ll grace thee with that robbery, thy stol’n name -Coriolanus, in Corioles? -You lords and heads o’ th’ state, perfidiously -He has betrayed 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 whined and roared away your victory, -That pages blushed at him and men of heart -Looked wond’ring each at other. - -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 forced to scold. Your judgments, my grave lords, -Must give this cur the lie; and his own notion— -Who wears my stripes impressed 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 dovecote, I -Fluttered your Volscians in Corioles, -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? - -ALL CONSPIRATORS. -Let him die for’t. - -ALL PEOPLE -Tear him to pieces! Do it presently! He killed my son! My daughter! He -killed my cousin Marcus! He killed 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! - -ALL CONSPIRATORS. -Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill him! - - -[_Draw the Conspirators, and kills Martius, 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, -Provoked 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 urn. - -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 Martius. A dead march sounded._] - - - - -CYMBELINE - - - - -Contents - -ACT I -Scene I. Britain. The garden of Cymbeline’s palace. -Scene II. The same. -Scene III. Britain. A public place. -Scene IV. Britain. Cymbeline’s palace. -Scene V. Rome. Philario’s house. -Scene VI. Britain. Cymbeline’s palace. -Scene VII. Britain. The palace. - -ACT II -Scene I. Britain. Before Cymbeline’s palace. -Scene II. Britain. Imogen’s bedchamber in Cymbeline’s palace; a trunk -in one corner. -Scene III. Cymbeline’s palace. An ante-chamber adjoining Imogen’s -apartments. -Scene IV. Rome. Philario’s house. -Scene V. Rome. Another room in Philario’s house. - -ACT III -Scene I. Britain. A hall in Cymbeline’s palace. -Scene II. Britain. Another room in Cymbeline’s palace. -Scene III. Wales. A mountainous country with a cave. -Scene IV. Wales, near Milford Haven. -Scene V. Britain. Cymbeline’s palace. -Scene VI. Wales. Before the cave of Belarius. -Scene VII. The same. -Scene VIII. Rome. A public place. - -ACT IV -Scene I. Wales. Near the cave of Belarius. -Scene II. Wales. Before the cave of Belarius. -Scene III. Britain. Cymbeline’s palace. -Scene IV. Wales. Before the cave of Belarius. - -ACT V -Scene I. Britain. The Roman camp. -Scene II. Britain. A field of battle between the British and Roman -camps. -Scene III. Another part of the field. -Scene IV. Britain. A prison. -Scene V. Britain. Cymbeline’s tent. - - - - -Dramatis Personæ - -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 -CAIUS LUCIUS, General of the Roman forces -PISANIO, servant to Posthumus -CORNELIUS, a physician -A SOOTHSAYER -A ROMAN CAPTAIN -TWO BRITISH CAPTAINS -A FRENCH GENTLEMAN, friend to Philario -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 Dutch Gentleman, a Spanish -Gentleman, Musicians, Officers, Captains, Soldiers, Messengers, and -Attendants - -SCENE: Britain; Italy. - - - - -ACT I - -SCENE I. Britain. The garden of Cymbeline’s palace. - - - Enter two Gentlemen. - -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._] - -SCENE II. The same. - - Enter 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 today. - -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. - - 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! - - 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 III. 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’ backside 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 IV. 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 ear -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 V. 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 judgement, 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 judgement (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 VI. 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 judgement 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 to decay -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 liegers for her sweet; and which she after, -Except she bend her humour, shall be assur’d -To taste of too. - - 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 VII. 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’ judgement, -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 Briton 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 off -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 judgement -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 tomorrow. - -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 tomorrow! - -IACHIMO. -O, I must, madam. -Therefore I shall beseech you, if you please -To greet your lord with writing, do’t tonight. -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._] - - - - -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 -upcast 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 gave 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 tonight? - -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 today at bowls I’ll -win tonight 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 Phœbus ’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 is, - My lady sweet, arise; - Arise, arise! - -CLOTEN. -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 on’t, -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 solicits, 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 garment’! 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 Cæsar -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 corners 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 off -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._] - - - - -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 Cæsar with us? - -LUCIUS. -When Julius Cæsar, (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 Cæsar’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 Cæsars 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 unscaleable and roaring waters, -With sands that will not bear your enemies’ boats -But suck them up to th’ top-mast. A kind of conquest -Cæsar 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 Cæsar’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 Cæsars. 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 -Cæsar 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. Cæsar’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 off -Becomes a warlike people, whom we reckon -Ourselves to be. - -CLOTEN. -We do. - -CYMBELINE. -Say then to Cæsar, -Our ancestor was that Mulmutius which -Ordain’d our laws, whose use the sword of Cæsar -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 Cæsar -(Cæsar, that hath moe kings his servants than -Thyself domestic officers) thine enemy. -Receive it from me, then: war and confusion -In Cæsar’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 Cæsar 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 Cæsar 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 rid -’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 robe, -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 pandar 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 Æneas, -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 lamb 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 -Tomorrow. 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 an Attendant._] - -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. - - Enter Attendant. - -CYMBELINE. -Where is she, sir? How -Can her contempt be answer’d? - -ATTENDANT. -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. - - 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 judgement -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 pandar! 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. - - 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._] - -SCENE VII. The same. - - 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! - - 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 VIII. 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 Cæsar! - -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._] - - 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 judgement -Is oft the cease of fear. - - 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 all 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 today, 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. - - 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? - - 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!_ - - 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 judgements, 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 I -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._] - - - - -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 doers’ 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! - - 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 Briton 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, all 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! -Today 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 sulphurous 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. - - 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? - -LADIES. -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 see 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 I -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 abridgement -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-dependances, -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 Cæsar -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 Cæsar, 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 TRAGEDY OF HAMLET, PRINCE OF DENMARK - - - - -Contents - - ACT I - Scene I. Elsinore. A platform before the Castle - Scene II. Elsinore. A room of state in the Castle - Scene III. A room in Polonius’s house - Scene IV. The platform - Scene V. A more remote part of the Castle - - ACT II - Scene I. A room in Polonius’s house - Scene II. A room in the Castle - - ACT III - Scene I. A room in the Castle - Scene II. A hall in the Castle - Scene III. A room in the Castle - Scene IV. Another room in the Castle - - ACT IV - Scene I. A room in the Castle - Scene II. Another room in the Castle - Scene III. Another room in the Castle - Scene IV. A plain in Denmark - Scene V. Elsinore. A room in the Castle - Scene VI. Another room in the Castle - Scene VII. Another room in the Castle - - ACT V - Scene I. A churchyard - Scene II. A hall in the Castle - - - - -Dramatis Personæ - -HAMLET, Prince of Denmark -CLAUDIUS, King of Denmark, Hamlet’s uncle -The GHOST of the late king, Hamlet’s father -GERTRUDE, the Queen, Hamlet’s mother, now wife of Claudius -POLONIUS, Lord Chamberlain -LAERTES, Son to Polonius -OPHELIA, Daughter to Polonius -HORATIO, Friend to Hamlet -FORTINBRAS, Prince of Norway -VOLTEMAND, Courtier -CORNELIUS, Courtier -ROSENCRANTZ, Courtier -GUILDENSTERN, Courtier -MARCELLUS, Officer -BARNARDO, Officer -FRANCISCO, a Soldier -OSRIC, Courtier -REYNALDO, Servant to Polonius -Players -A Gentleman, Courtier -A Priest -Two Clowns, Grave-diggers -A Captain -English Ambassadors. -Lords, Ladies, Officers, Soldiers, Sailors, Messengers, and Attendants - -SCENE. Elsinore. - - - - -ACT I - -SCENE I. Elsinore. A platform before the Castle. - - -Enter Francisco and Barnardo, two sentinels. - -BARNARDO. -Who’s there? - -FRANCISCO. -Nay, answer me. Stand and unfold yourself. - -BARNARDO. -Long live the King! - -FRANCISCO. -Barnardo? - -BARNARDO. -He. - -FRANCISCO. -You come most carefully upon your hour. - -BARNARDO. -’Tis now struck twelve. Get thee to bed, Francisco. - -FRANCISCO. -For this relief much thanks. ’Tis bitter cold, -And I am sick at heart. - -BARNARDO. -Have you had quiet guard? - -FRANCISCO. -Not a mouse stirring. - -BARNARDO. -Well, good night. -If you do meet Horatio and Marcellus, -The rivals of my watch, bid them make haste. - -Enter Horatio and Marcellus. - -FRANCISCO. -I think I hear them. Stand, ho! Who is there? - -HORATIO. -Friends to this ground. - -MARCELLUS. -And liegemen to the Dane. - -FRANCISCO. -Give you good night. - -MARCELLUS. -O, farewell, honest soldier, who hath reliev’d you? - -FRANCISCO. -Barnardo has my place. Give you good-night. - -[_Exit._] - -MARCELLUS. -Holla, Barnardo! - -BARNARDO. -Say, what, is Horatio there? - -HORATIO. -A piece of him. - -BARNARDO. -Welcome, Horatio. Welcome, good Marcellus. - -MARCELLUS. -What, has this thing appear’d again tonight? - -BARNARDO. -I have seen nothing. - -MARCELLUS. -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. - -HORATIO. -Tush, tush, ’twill not appear. - -BARNARDO. -Sit down awhile, -And let us once again assail your ears, -That are so fortified against our story, -What we two nights have seen. - -HORATIO. -Well, sit we down, -And let us hear Barnardo speak of this. - -BARNARDO. -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— - -MARCELLUS. -Peace, break thee off. Look where it comes again. - -Enter Ghost. - -BARNARDO. -In the same figure, like the King that’s dead. - -MARCELLUS. -Thou art a scholar; speak to it, Horatio. - -BARNARDO. -Looks it not like the King? Mark it, Horatio. - -HORATIO. -Most like. It harrows me with fear and wonder. - -BARNARDO -It would be spoke to. - -MARCELLUS. -Question it, Horatio. - -HORATIO. -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. - -MARCELLUS. -It is offended. - -BARNARDO. -See, it stalks away. - -HORATIO. -Stay! speak, speak! I charge thee speak! - -[_Exit Ghost._] - -MARCELLUS. -’Tis gone, and will not answer. - -BARNARDO. -How now, Horatio! You tremble and look pale. -Is not this something more than fantasy? -What think you on’t? - -HORATIO. -Before my God, I might not this believe -Without the sensible and true avouch -Of mine own eyes. - -MARCELLUS. -Is it not like the King? - -HORATIO. -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. - -MARCELLUS. -Thus twice before, and jump at this dead hour, -With martial stalk hath he gone by our watch. - -HORATIO. -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. - -MARCELLUS. -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? - -HORATIO. -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 cov’nant -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 rummage in the land. - -BARNARDO. -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. - -HORATIO. -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 climatures and countrymen. - -Re-enter Ghost. - -But, soft, behold! Lo, where it comes again! -I’ll cross it, though it blast me. Stay, illusion! -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 grace 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, -Speak of it. Stay, and speak! - -[_The cock crows._] - -Stop it, Marcellus! - -MARCELLUS. -Shall I strike at it with my partisan? - -HORATIO. -Do, if it will not stand. - -BARNARDO. -’Tis here! - -HORATIO. -’Tis here! - -[_Exit Ghost._] - -MARCELLUS. -’Tis gone! -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. - -BARNARDO. -It was about to speak, when the cock crew. - -HORATIO. -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. - -MARCELLUS. -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. - -HORATIO. -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 tonight -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? - -MARCELLUS. -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. - -Enter Claudius King of Denmark, Gertrude the Queen, Hamlet, Polonius, -Laertes, Voltemand, -Cornelius, Lords and 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 one auspicious and one 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 bonds 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 bed-rid, 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. -Farewell; and let your haste commend your duty. - -CORNELIUS and VOLTEMAND. -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? - -LAERTES. -Dread my 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? - -POLONIUS. -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— - -HAMLET. -[_Aside._] A little more than kin, and less than kind. - -KING. -How is it that the clouds still hang on you? - -HAMLET. -Not so, my lord, I am too much i’ the 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. - -HAMLET. -Ay, madam, it is common. - -QUEEN. -If it be, -Why seems it so particular with thee? - -HAMLET. -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 haviour of the visage, -Together with all forms, moods, shows 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 persevere -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 today, -‘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. - -HAMLET. -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 today -But the great cannon to the clouds shall tell, -And the King’s rouse the heaven shall bruit again, -Re-speaking earthly thunder. Come away. - -[_Exeunt all but Hamlet._] - -HAMLET. -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! O God! -How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable -Seem to me all the uses of this world! -Fie on’t! Oh 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 mine 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 Barnardo. - -HORATIO. -Hail to your lordship! - -HAMLET. -I am glad to see you well: -Horatio, or I do forget myself. - -HORATIO. -The same, my lord, -And your poor servant ever. - -HAMLET. -Sir, my good friend; -I’ll change that name with you: -And what make you from Wittenberg, Horatio?— -Marcellus? - -MARCELLUS. -My good lord. - -HAMLET. -I am very glad to see you.—Good even, sir.— -But what, in faith, make you from Wittenberg? - -HORATIO. -A truant disposition, good my lord. - -HAMLET. -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. - -HORATIO. -My lord, I came to see your father’s funeral. - -HAMLET. -I prithee do not mock me, fellow-student. -I think it was to see my mother’s wedding. - -HORATIO. -Indeed, my lord, it follow’d hard upon. - -HAMLET. -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. - -HORATIO. -Where, my lord? - -HAMLET. -In my mind’s eye, Horatio. - -HORATIO. -I saw him once; he was a goodly king. - -HAMLET. -He was a man, take him for all in all, -I shall not look upon his like again. - -HORATIO. -My lord, I think I saw him yesternight. - -HAMLET. -Saw? Who? - -HORATIO. -My lord, the King your father. - -HAMLET. -The King my father! - -HORATIO. -Season your admiration for a while -With an attent ear, till I may deliver -Upon the witness of these gentlemen -This marvel to you. - -HAMLET. -For God’s love let me hear. - -HORATIO. -Two nights together had these gentlemen, -Marcellus and Barnardo, on their watch -In the dead waste and middle of the night, -Been thus encounter’d. A figure like your father, -Armed at point exactly, cap-à-pie, -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. - -HAMLET. -But where was this? - -MARCELLUS. -My lord, upon the platform where we watch. - -HAMLET. -Did you not speak to it? - -HORATIO. -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. - -HAMLET. -’Tis very strange. - -HORATIO. -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. - -HAMLET. -Indeed, indeed, sirs, but this troubles me. -Hold you the watch tonight? - -MARCELLUS and BARNARDO. -We do, my lord. - -HAMLET. -Arm’d, say you? - -Both. -Arm’d, my lord. - -HAMLET. -From top to toe? - -BOTH. -My lord, from head to foot. - -HAMLET. -Then saw you not his face? - -HORATIO. -O yes, my lord, he wore his beaver up. - -HAMLET. -What, look’d he frowningly? - -HORATIO. -A countenance more in sorrow than in anger. - -HAMLET. -Pale, or red? - -HORATIO. -Nay, very pale. - -HAMLET. -And fix’d his eyes upon you? - -HORATIO. -Most constantly. - -HAMLET. -I would I had been there. - -HORATIO. -It would have much amaz’d you. - -HAMLET. -Very like, very like. Stay’d it long? - -HORATIO. -While one with moderate haste might tell a hundred. - -MARCELLUS and BARNARDO. -Longer, longer. - -HORATIO. -Not when I saw’t. - -HAMLET. -His beard was grizzled, no? - -HORATIO. -It was, as I have seen it in his life, -A sable silver’d. - -HAMLET. -I will watch tonight; -Perchance ’twill walk again. - -HORATIO. -I warrant you it will. - -HAMLET. -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 tonight, -Give it an understanding, but no tongue. -I will requite your loves. So, fare ye well. -Upon the platform ’twixt eleven and twelve, -I’ll visit you. - -ALL. -Our duty to your honour. - -HAMLET. -Your loves, as mine to you: farewell. - -[_Exeunt Horatio, Marcellus and Barnardo._] - -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. A room in Polonius’s house. - -Enter Laertes and Ophelia. - -LAERTES. -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. - -OPHELIA. -Do you doubt that? - -LAERTES. -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. - -OPHELIA. -No more but so? - -LAERTES. -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 unvalu’d persons do, -Carve for himself; for on his choice depends -The sanctity 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 unmaster’d 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 ’scapes 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. - -OPHELIA. -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; -Whilst like a puff’d and reckless libertine -Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads, -And recks not his own rede. - -LAERTES. -O, fear me not. -I stay too long. But here my father comes. - -Enter Polonius. - -A double blessing is a double grace; -Occasion smiles upon a second leave. - -POLONIUS. -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 you. - -[_Laying his hand on Laertes’s head._] - -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 judgement. -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 of a 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. - -LAERTES. -Most humbly do I take my leave, my lord. - -POLONIUS. -The time invites you; go, your servants tend. - -LAERTES. -Farewell, Ophelia, and remember well -What I have said to you. - -OPHELIA. -’Tis in my memory lock’d, -And you yourself shall keep the key of it. - -LAERTES. -Farewell. - -[_Exit._] - -POLONIUS. -What is’t, Ophelia, he hath said to you? - -OPHELIA. -So please you, something touching the Lord Hamlet. - -POLONIUS. -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 behoves my daughter and your honour. -What is between you? Give me up the truth. - -OPHELIA. -He hath, my lord, of late made many tenders -Of his affection to me. - -POLONIUS. -Affection! Pooh! You speak like a green girl, -Unsifted in such perilous circumstance. -Do you believe his tenders, as you call them? - -OPHELIA. -I do not know, my lord, what I should think. - -POLONIUS. -Marry, I’ll 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. - -OPHELIA. -My lord, he hath importun’d me with love -In honourable fashion. - -POLONIUS. -Ay, fashion you may call it; go to, go to. - -OPHELIA. -And hath given countenance to his speech, my lord, -With almost all the holy vows of heaven. - -POLONIUS. -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. - -OPHELIA. -I shall obey, my lord. - -[_Exeunt._] - - SCENE IV. The platform. - -Enter Hamlet, Horatio and Marcellus. - -HAMLET. -The air bites shrewdly; it is very cold. - -HORATIO. -It is a nipping and an eager air. - -HAMLET. -What hour now? - -HORATIO. -I think it lacks of twelve. - -MARCELLUS. -No, it is struck. - -HORATIO. -Indeed? I heard it not. It then draws near the season -Wherein the spirit held his wont to walk. - -[_A flourish of trumpets, and ordnance shot off within._] - -What does this mean, my lord? - -HAMLET. -The King doth wake tonight and takes his rouse, -Keeps wassail, and the swaggering upspring reels; -And as he drains his draughts of Rhenish down, -The kettle-drum and trumpet thus bray out -The triumph of his pledge. - -HORATIO. -Is it a custom? - -HAMLET. -Ay marry is’t; -And 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 clepe 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 their 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,— -His 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 evil -Doth all the noble substance of a doubt -To his own scandal. - -HORATIO. -Look, my lord, it comes! - -Enter Ghost. - -HAMLET. -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, -Revisit’st 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._] - -HORATIO. -It beckons you to go away with it, -As if it some impartment did desire -To you alone. - -MARCELLUS. -Look with what courteous action -It waves you to a more removed ground. -But do not go with it. - -HORATIO. -No, by no means. - -HAMLET. -It will not speak; then will I follow it. - -HORATIO. -Do not, my lord. - -HAMLET. -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. - -HORATIO. -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 fathoms to the sea -And hears it roar beneath. - -HAMLET. -It waves me still. -Go on, I’ll follow thee. - -MARCELLUS. -You shall not go, my lord. - -HAMLET. -Hold off your hands. - -HORATIO. -Be rul’d; you shall not go. - -HAMLET. -My fate cries out, -And makes each petty artery in this body -As hardy as the Nemean lion’s nerve. - -[_Ghost beckons._] - -Still am I call’d. Unhand me, gentlemen. - -[_Breaking free from them._] - -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._] - -HORATIO. -He waxes desperate with imagination. - -MARCELLUS. -Let’s follow; ’tis not fit thus to obey him. - -HORATIO. -Have after. To what issue will this come? - -MARCELLUS. -Something is rotten in the state of Denmark. - -HORATIO. -Heaven will direct it. - -MARCELLUS. -Nay, let’s follow him. - -[_Exeunt._] - - SCENE V. A more remote part of the Castle. - -Enter Ghost and Hamlet. - -HAMLET. -Whither wilt thou lead me? Speak, I’ll go no further. - -GHOST. -Mark me. - -HAMLET. -I will. - -GHOST. -My hour is almost come, -When I to sulph’rous and tormenting flames -Must render up myself. - -HAMLET. -Alas, poor ghost! - -GHOST. -Pity me not, but lend thy serious hearing -To what I shall unfold. - -HAMLET. -Speak, I am bound to hear. - -GHOST. -So art thou to revenge, when thou shalt hear. - -HAMLET. -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 on 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— - -HAMLET. -O God! - -GHOST. -Revenge his foul and most unnatural murder. - -HAMLET. -Murder! - -GHOST. -Murder most foul, as in the best it is; -But this most foul, strange, and unnatural. - -HAMLET. -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. - -HAMLET. -O my prophetic soul! -Mine 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 hebenon 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 quicksilver 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. -O horrible! O horrible! most horrible! -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 pursu’st 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 glow-worm shows the matin to be near, -And ’gins to pale his uneffectual fire. -Adieu, adieu, adieu. Remember me. - -[_Exit._] - -HAMLET. -O all you host of heaven! O earth! What else? -And shall I couple hell? O, fie! 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. - -[_Writing._] - -So, uncle, there you are. Now to my word; -It is ‘Adieu, adieu, remember me.’ -I have sworn’t. - -HORATIO and MARCELLUS. -[_Within._] My lord, my lord. - -MARCELLUS. -[_Within._] Lord Hamlet. - -HORATIO. -[_Within._] Heaven secure him. - -HAMLET. -So be it! - -MARCELLUS. -[_Within._] Illo, ho, ho, my lord! - -HAMLET. -Hillo, ho, ho, boy! Come, bird, come. - -Enter Horatio and Marcellus. - -MARCELLUS. -How is’t, my noble lord? - -HORATIO. -What news, my lord? - -HAMLET. -O, wonderful! - -HORATIO. -Good my lord, tell it. - -HAMLET. -No, you’ll reveal it. - -HORATIO. -Not I, my lord, by heaven. - -MARCELLUS. -Nor I, my lord. - -HAMLET. -How say you then, would heart of man once think it?— -But you’ll be secret? - -HORATIO and MARCELLUS. -Ay, by heaven, my lord. - -HAMLET. -There’s ne’er a villain dwelling in all Denmark -But he’s an arrant knave. - -HORATIO. -There needs no ghost, my lord, come from the grave -To tell us this. - -HAMLET. -Why, right; you are i’ the right; -And so, without more circumstance at all, -I hold it fit that we shake hands and part: -You, as your business and desire 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. - -HORATIO. -These are but wild and whirling words, my lord. - -HAMLET. -I’m sorry they offend you, heartily; -Yes faith, heartily. - -HORATIO. -There’s no offence, my lord. - -HAMLET. -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. - -HORATIO. -What is’t, my lord? We will. - -HAMLET. -Never make known what you have seen tonight. - -HORATIO and MARCELLUS. -My lord, we will not. - -HAMLET. -Nay, but swear’t. - -HORATIO. -In faith, my lord, not I. - -MARCELLUS. -Nor I, my lord, in faith. - -HAMLET. -Upon my sword. - -MARCELLUS. -We have sworn, my lord, already. - -HAMLET. -Indeed, upon my sword, indeed. - -GHOST. -[_Cries under the stage._] Swear. - -HAMLET. -Ha, ha boy, sayst thou so? Art thou there, truepenny? -Come on, you hear this fellow in the cellarage. -Consent to swear. - -HORATIO. -Propose the oath, my lord. - -HAMLET. -Never to speak of this that you have seen. -Swear by my sword. - -GHOST. -[_Beneath._] Swear. - -HAMLET. -_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. - -HAMLET. -Well said, old mole! Canst work i’ th’earth so fast? -A worthy pioner! Once more remove, good friends. - -HORATIO. -O day and night, but this is wondrous strange. - -HAMLET. -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 encumber’d thus, or this head-shake, -Or by pronouncing of some doubtful phrase, -As ‘Well, we know’, or ‘We could and if we would’, -Or ‘If we list to speak’; or ‘There be and if they might’, -Or such ambiguous giving out, to note -That you know aught of me:—this not to do. -So grace and mercy at your most need help you, -Swear. - -GHOST. -[_Beneath._] Swear. - -HAMLET. -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._] - - - - -ACT II - -SCENE I. A room in Polonius’s house. - - -Enter Polonius and Reynaldo. - -POLONIUS. -Give him this money and these notes, Reynaldo. - -REYNALDO. -I will, my lord. - -POLONIUS. -You shall do marvellous wisely, good Reynaldo, -Before you visit him, to make inquiry -Of his behaviour. - -REYNALDO. -My lord, I did intend it. - -POLONIUS. -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? - -REYNALDO. -Ay, very well, my lord. - -POLONIUS. -‘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. - -REYNALDO. -As gaming, my lord? - -POLONIUS. -Ay, or drinking, fencing, swearing, -Quarrelling, drabbing. You may go so far. - -REYNALDO. -My lord, that would dishonour him. - -POLONIUS. -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. - -REYNALDO. -But my good lord— - -POLONIUS. -Wherefore should you do this? - -REYNALDO. -Ay, my lord, I would know that. - -POLONIUS. -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. - -REYNALDO. -Very good, my lord. - -POLONIUS. -And then, sir, does he this,— -He does—What was I about to say? -By the mass, I was about to say something. Where did I leave? - -REYNALDO. -At ‘closes in the consequence.’ -At ‘friend or so,’ and ‘gentleman.’ - -POLONIUS. -At ‘closes in the consequence’ ay, marry! -He closes with you thus: ‘I know the gentleman, -I saw him yesterday, or t’other day, -Or then, or then, with such and such; and, as you say, -There was he 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? - -REYNALDO. -My lord, I have. - -POLONIUS. -God b’ wi’ you, fare you well. - -REYNALDO. -Good my lord. - -POLONIUS. -Observe his inclination in yourself. - -REYNALDO. -I shall, my lord. - -POLONIUS. -And let him ply his music. - -REYNALDO. -Well, my lord. - -POLONIUS. -Farewell. - -[_Exit Reynaldo._] - -Enter Ophelia. - -How now, Ophelia, what’s the matter? - -OPHELIA. -Alas, my lord, I have been so affrighted. - -POLONIUS. -With what, in the name of God? - -OPHELIA. -My lord, as I was sewing in my chamber, -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. - -POLONIUS. -Mad for thy love? - -OPHELIA. -My lord, I do not know, but truly I do fear it. - -POLONIUS. -What said he? - -OPHELIA. -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. - -POLONIUS. -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? - -OPHELIA. -No, my good lord; but as you did command, -I did repel his letters and denied -His access to me. - -POLONIUS. -That hath made him mad. -I am sorry that with better heed and judgement -I had not quoted him. I fear’d he did but trifle, -And meant to wreck thee. But beshrew my jealousy! -It seems 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. - -[_Exeunt._] - - SCENE II. A room in the Castle. - -Enter King, Queen, Rosencrantz, Guildenstern and Attendants. - -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, -Since 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 days brought up with him, -And since so neighbour’d to his youth and humour, -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. - -ROSENCRANTZ. -Both your majesties -Might, by the sovereign power you have of us, -Put your dread pleasures more into command -Than to entreaty. - -GUILDENSTERN. -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. - -GUILDENSTERN. -Heavens make our presence and our practices -Pleasant and helpful to him. - -QUEEN. -Ay, amen. - -[_Exeunt Rosencrantz, Guildenstern and some Attendants._] - -Enter Polonius. - -POLONIUS. -Th’ambassadors from Norway, my good lord, -Are joyfully return’d. - -KING. -Thou still hast been the father of good news. - -POLONIUS. -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. - -POLONIUS. -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 sweet queen, that 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 with Voltemand and Cornelius. - -Welcome, my good friends! -Say, Voltemand, what from our brother Norway? - -VOLTEMAND. -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 Voltemand and Cornelius._] - -POLONIUS. -This business is well ended. -My liege and madam, to expostulate -What majesty should be, what duty is, -Why day is day, night 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. - -POLONIUS. -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 whilst she is mine— -Who in her duty and obedience, mark, -Hath given me this. Now gather, and surmise. -[_Reads._] -_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. -[_Reads._] -_these; in her excellent white bosom, these, &c._ - -QUEEN. -Came this from Hamlet to her? - -POLONIUS. -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 show’d 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? - -POLONIUS. -What do you think of me? - -KING. -As of a man faithful and honourable. - -POLONIUS. -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 precepts 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 wail for. - -KING. -Do you think ’tis this? - -QUEEN. -It may be, very likely. - -POLONIUS. -Hath there been such a time, I’d fain know that, -That I have positively said ‘’Tis so,’ -When it prov’d otherwise? - -KING. -Not that I know. - -POLONIUS. -Take this from this, if this be otherwise. -[_Points to his head and shoulder._] -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? - -POLONIUS. -You know sometimes he walks four hours together -Here in the lobby. - -QUEEN. -So he does indeed. - -POLONIUS. -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 be 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. - -QUEEN. -But look where sadly the poor wretch comes reading. - -POLONIUS. -Away, I do beseech you, both away -I’ll board him presently. O, give me leave. - -[_Exeunt King, Queen and Attendants._] - -How does my good Lord Hamlet? - -HAMLET. -Well, God-a-mercy. - -POLONIUS. -Do you know me, my lord? - -HAMLET. -Excellent well. You are a fishmonger. - -POLONIUS. -Not I, my lord. - -HAMLET. -Then I would you were so honest a man. - -POLONIUS. -Honest, my lord? - -HAMLET. -Ay sir, to be honest, as this world goes, is to be one man picked out -of ten thousand. - -POLONIUS. -That’s very true, my lord. - -HAMLET. -For if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog, being a good kissing -carrion,— -Have you a daughter? - -POLONIUS. -I have, my lord. - -HAMLET. -Let her not walk i’ th’ sun. Conception is a blessing, but not as your -daughter may conceive. Friend, look to’t. - -POLONIUS. -How say you by that? [_Aside._] 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 suffered much extremity for love; very -near this. I’ll speak to him again.—What do you read, my lord? - -HAMLET. -Words, words, words. - -POLONIUS. -What is the matter, my lord? - -HAMLET. -Between who? - -POLONIUS. -I mean the matter that you read, my lord. - -HAMLET. -Slanders, sir. For the satirical slave 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. - -POLONIUS. -[_Aside._] Though this be madness, yet there is method in’t.— -Will you walk out of the air, my lord? - -HAMLET. -Into my grave? - -POLONIUS. -Indeed, that is out o’ the 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. - -HAMLET. -You cannot, sir, take from me anything that I will more willingly part -withal, except my life, except my life, except my life. - -POLONIUS. -Fare you well, my lord. - -HAMLET. -These tedious old fools. - -Enter Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. - -POLONIUS. -You go to seek the Lord Hamlet; there he is. - -ROSENCRANTZ. -[_To Polonius._] God save you, sir. - -[_Exit Polonius._] - -GUILDENSTERN. -My honoured lord! - -ROSENCRANTZ. -My most dear lord! - -HAMLET. -My excellent good friends! How dost thou, Guildenstern? Ah, -Rosencrantz. Good lads, how do ye both? - -ROSENCRANTZ. -As the indifferent children of the earth. - -GUILDENSTERN. -Happy in that we are not over-happy; -On Fortune’s cap we are not the very button. - -HAMLET. -Nor the soles of her shoe? - -ROSENCRANTZ. -Neither, my lord. - -HAMLET. -Then you live about her waist, or in the middle of her favours? - -GUILDENSTERN. -Faith, her privates we. - -HAMLET. -In the secret parts of Fortune? O, most true; she is a strumpet. What’s -the news? - -ROSENCRANTZ. -None, my lord, but that the world’s grown honest. - -HAMLET. -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? - -GUILDENSTERN. -Prison, my lord? - -HAMLET. -Denmark’s a prison. - -ROSENCRANTZ. -Then is the world one. - -HAMLET. -A goodly one; in which there are many confines, wards, and dungeons, -Denmark being one o’ th’ worst. - -ROSENCRANTZ. -We think not so, my lord. - -HAMLET. -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. - -ROSENCRANTZ. -Why, then your ambition makes it one; ’tis too narrow for your mind. - -HAMLET. -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. - -GUILDENSTERN. -Which dreams, indeed, are ambition; for the very substance of the -ambitious is merely the shadow of a dream. - -HAMLET. -A dream itself is but a shadow. - -ROSENCRANTZ. -Truly, and I hold ambition of so airy and light a quality that it is -but a shadow’s shadow. - -HAMLET. -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. - -ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN. -We’ll wait upon you. - -HAMLET. -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? - -ROSENCRANTZ. -To visit you, my lord, no other occasion. - -HAMLET. -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. - -GUILDENSTERN. -What should we say, my lord? - -HAMLET. -Why, anything. But to the 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. - -ROSENCRANTZ. -To what end, my lord? - -HAMLET. -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. - -ROSENCRANTZ. -[_To Guildenstern._] What say you? - -HAMLET. -[_Aside._] Nay, then I have an eye of you. If you love me, hold not -off. - -GUILDENSTERN. -My lord, we were sent for. - -HAMLET. -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 -appears no other thing to me than a foul and pestilent congregation of -vapours. What a piece of work is 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. - -ROSENCRANTZ. -My lord, there was no such stuff in my thoughts. - -HAMLET. -Why did you laugh then, when I said ‘Man delights not me’? - -ROSENCRANTZ. -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. - -HAMLET. -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 -for’t. What players are they? - -ROSENCRANTZ. -Even those you were wont to take such delight in—the tragedians of the -city. - -HAMLET. -How chances it they travel? Their residence, both in reputation and -profit, was better both ways. - -ROSENCRANTZ. -I think their inhibition comes by the means of the late innovation. - -HAMLET. -Do they hold the same estimation they did when I was in the city? Are -they so followed? - -ROSENCRANTZ. -No, indeed, they are not. - -HAMLET. -How comes it? Do they grow rusty? - -ROSENCRANTZ. -Nay, their endeavour keeps in the wonted pace; but there is, sir, an -aerie of children, little eyases, that cry out on the top of question, -and are most tyrannically clapped for’t. These are now the fashion, and -so berattle the common stages—so they call them—that many wearing -rapiers are afraid of goose-quills and dare scarce come thither. - -HAMLET. -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? - -ROSENCRANTZ. -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. - -HAMLET. -Is’t possible? - -GUILDENSTERN. -O, there has been much throwing about of brains. - -HAMLET. -Do the boys carry it away? - -ROSENCRANTZ. -Ay, that they do, my lord. Hercules and his load too. - -HAMLET. -It is not very strange; for my uncle is King of Denmark, and those that -would make mouths 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 of trumpets within._] - -GUILDENSTERN. -There are the players. - -HAMLET. -Gentlemen, you are welcome to Elsinore. Your hands, come. The -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 outward, should more appear like entertainment than yours. You -are welcome. But my uncle-father and aunt-mother are deceived. - -GUILDENSTERN. -In what, my dear lord? - -HAMLET. -I am but mad north-north-west. When the wind is southerly, I know a -hawk from a handsaw. - -Enter Polonius. - -POLONIUS. -Well be with you, gentlemen. - -HAMLET. -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. - -ROSENCRANTZ. -Happily he’s the second time come to them; for they say an old man is -twice a child. - -HAMLET. -I will prophesy he comes to tell me of the players. Mark it.—You say -right, sir: for a Monday morning ’twas so indeed. - -POLONIUS. -My lord, I have news to tell you. - -HAMLET. -My lord, I have news to tell you. When Roscius was an actor in Rome— - -POLONIUS. -The actors are come hither, my lord. - -HAMLET. -Buzz, buzz. - -POLONIUS. -Upon my honour. - -HAMLET. -Then came each actor on his ass— - -POLONIUS. -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. - -HAMLET. -O Jephthah, judge of Israel, what a treasure hadst thou! - -POLONIUS. -What treasure had he, my lord? - -HAMLET. -Why— - ’One fair daughter, and no more, - The which he loved passing well.’ - -POLONIUS. -[_Aside._] Still on my daughter. - -HAMLET. -Am I not i’ th’ right, old Jephthah? - -POLONIUS. -If you call me Jephthah, my lord, I have a daughter that I love passing -well. - -HAMLET. -Nay, that follows not. - -POLONIUS. -What follows then, my lord? - -HAMLET. -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 abridgement 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! 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 cracked 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. - -FIRST PLAYER. -What speech, my lord? - -HAMLET. -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, pleased not the million, -’twas caviare to the general. But it was—as I received it, and others, -whose judgements 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 indite the -author of affectation, but called it an honest method, as wholesome as -sweet, and by very much more handsome than fine. One speech in it, I -chiefly loved. ’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,—_ -It is 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 he 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 vile murders. 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. - -POLONIUS. -’Fore God, my lord, well spoken, with good accent and good discretion. - -FIRST PLAYER. - _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 a-work, - 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._ - -POLONIUS. -This is too long. - -HAMLET. -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. - -FIRST PLAYER. - _But who, O who, had seen the mobled queen,—_ - -HAMLET. -‘The mobled queen’? - -POLONIUS. -That’s good! ‘Mobled queen’ is good. - -FIRST PLAYER. - _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 th’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._ - -POLONIUS. -Look, where he has not turn’d his colour, and has tears in’s eyes. Pray -you, no more. - -HAMLET. -’Tis well. I’ll have thee speak out the rest of this soon.—Good my -lord, will you see the players well bestowed? Do you hear, let them be -well used; for they are the abstracts and brief chronicles of the time. -After your death you were better have a bad epitaph than their ill -report while you live. - -POLONIUS. -My lord, I will use them according to their desert. - -HAMLET. -God’s bodikin, 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. - -POLONIUS. -Come, sirs. - -HAMLET. -Follow him, friends. We’ll hear a play tomorrow. - -[_Exeunt Polonius with all the Players but the First._] - -Dost thou hear me, old friend? Can you play _The Murder of Gonzago_? - -FIRST PLAYER. -Ay, my lord. - -HAMLET. -We’ll ha’t tomorrow 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? - -FIRST PLAYER. -Ay, my lord. - -HAMLET. -Very well. Follow that lord, and look you mock him not. - -[_Exit First Player._] - -[_To Rosencrantz and Guildenstern_] My good friends, I’ll leave you -till night. You are welcome to Elsinore. - -ROSENCRANTZ. -Good my lord. - -[_Exeunt Rosencrantz and Guildenstern._] - -HAMLET. -Ay, so, God b’ wi’ ye. 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 wan’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 the 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! -Oh vengeance! -Why, what an ass am I! This is most brave, -That I, the son of a dear father murder’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! 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 murder, though it have no tongue, will speak -With most miraculous organ. I’ll have these players -Play something like the murder 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 the 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._] - - - - -ACT III - -SCENE I. A room in the Castle. - - -Enter King, Queen, Polonius, Ophelia, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. - -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? - -ROSENCRANTZ. -He does confess he feels himself distracted, -But from what cause he will by no means speak. - -GUILDENSTERN. -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? - -ROSENCRANTZ. -Most like a gentleman. - -GUILDENSTERN. -But with much forcing of his disposition. - -ROSENCRANTZ. -Niggard of question, but of our demands, -Most free in his reply. - -QUEEN. -Did you assay him to any pastime? - -ROSENCRANTZ. -Madam, it so fell out that certain players -We o’er-raught on the way. Of these we told him, -And there did seem in him a kind of joy -To hear of it. They are about the court, -And, as I think, they have already order -This night to play before him. - -POLONIUS. -’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. - -ROSENCRANTZ. -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. - -OPHELIA. -Madam, I wish it may. - -[_Exit Queen._] - -POLONIUS. -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 plastering art, -Is not more ugly to the thing that helps it -Than is my deed to my most painted word. -O heavy burden! - -POLONIUS. -I hear him coming. Let’s withdraw, my lord. - -[_Exeunt King and Polonius._] - -Enter Hamlet. - -HAMLET. -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 heart-ache, 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, -The oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely, -The pangs of dispriz’d love, the law’s delay, -The insolence of office, and the spurns -That patient merit of the 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 remember’d. - -OPHELIA. -Good my lord, -How does your honour for this many a day? - -HAMLET. -I humbly thank you; well, well, well. - -OPHELIA. -My lord, I have remembrances of yours -That I have longed long to re-deliver. -I pray you, now receive them. - -HAMLET. -No, not I. -I never gave you aught. - -OPHELIA. -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. - -HAMLET. -Ha, ha! Are you honest? - -OPHELIA. -My lord? - -HAMLET. -Are you fair? - -OPHELIA. -What means your lordship? - -HAMLET. -That if you be honest and fair, your honesty should admit no discourse -to your beauty. - -OPHELIA. -Could beauty, my lord, have better commerce than with honesty? - -HAMLET. -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. - -OPHELIA. -Indeed, my lord, you made me believe so. - -HAMLET. -You should not have believed me; for virtue cannot so inoculate our old -stock but we shall relish of it. I loved you not. - -OPHELIA. -I was the more deceived. - -HAMLET. -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? - -OPHELIA. -At home, my lord. - -HAMLET. -Let the doors be shut upon him, that he may play the fool nowhere but -in’s own house. Farewell. - -OPHELIA. -O help him, you sweet heavens! - -HAMLET. -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. - -OPHELIA. -O heavenly powers, restore him! - -HAMLET. -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, and 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 more marriages. Those that are married already, all but -one, shall live; the rest shall keep as they are. To a nunnery, go. - -[_Exit._] - -OPHELIA. -O, what a noble mind is here o’erthrown! -The courtier’s, soldier’s, scholar’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? - -POLONIUS. -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. A hall in the Castle. - -Enter Hamlet and certain Players. - -HAMLET. -Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to you, trippingly on -the tongue. But if you mouth it, as many of your players do, I had as -lief 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 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 ears of the groundlings, who, for -the most part, are capable of nothing but inexplicable dumb shows and -noise. I would have such a fellow whipped for o’erdoing Termagant. It -out-Herods Herod. Pray you avoid it. - -FIRST PLAYER. -I warrant your honour. - -HAMLET. -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. - -FIRST PLAYER. -I hope we have reform’d that indifferently with us, sir. - -HAMLET. -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 meantime some necessary question of the play be then -to be considered. That’s villainous, 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? - -POLONIUS. -And the Queen too, and that presently. - -HAMLET. -Bid the players make haste. - -[_Exit Polonius._] - -Will you two help to hasten them? - -ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN. -We will, my lord. - -[_Exeunt Rosencrantz and Guildenstern._] - -HAMLET. -What ho, Horatio! - -Enter Horatio. - -HORATIO. -Here, sweet lord, at your service. - -HAMLET. -Horatio, thou art e’en as just a man -As e’er my conversation cop’d withal. - -HORATIO. -O my dear lord. - -HAMLET. -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 seal’d thee for herself. For thou hast been -As one, in suffering all, that suffers nothing, -A man that Fortune’s buffets and rewards -Hast ta’en with equal thanks. And blessed are those -Whose blood and judgement are so well co-mingled -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. -There is a play tonight 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 see’st that act a-foot, -Even with the very comment of thy soul -Observe mine 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 judgements join -In censure of his seeming. - -HORATIO. -Well, my lord. -If he steal aught the whilst this play is playing, -And ’scape detecting, I will pay the theft. - -HAMLET. -They are coming to the play. I must be idle. -Get you a place. - -Danish march. A flourish. Enter King, Queen, Polonius, Ophelia, -Rosencrantz, Guildenstern and others. - -KING. -How fares our cousin Hamlet? - -HAMLET. -Excellent, i’ faith; of the chameleon’s dish: I eat the air, -promise-crammed: you cannot feed capons so. - -KING. -I have nothing with this answer, Hamlet; these words are not mine. - -HAMLET. -No, nor mine now. [_To Polonius._] My lord, you play’d once i’ -th’university, you say? - -POLONIUS. -That did I, my lord, and was accounted a good actor. - -HAMLET. -What did you enact? - -POLONIUS. -I did enact Julius Caesar. I was kill’d i’ th’ Capitol. Brutus killed -me. - -HAMLET. -It was a brute part of him to kill so capital a calf there. Be the -players ready? - -ROSENCRANTZ. -Ay, my lord; they stay upon your patience. - -QUEEN. -Come hither, my dear Hamlet, sit by me. - -HAMLET. -No, good mother, here’s metal more attractive. - -POLONIUS. -[_To the King._] O ho! do you mark that? - -HAMLET. -Lady, shall I lie in your lap? - -[_Lying down at Ophelia’s feet._] - -OPHELIA. -No, my lord. - -HAMLET. -I mean, my head upon your lap? - -OPHELIA. -Ay, my lord. - -HAMLET. -Do you think I meant country matters? - -OPHELIA. -I think nothing, my lord. - -HAMLET. -That’s a fair thought to lie between maids’ legs. - -OPHELIA. -What is, my lord? - -HAMLET. -Nothing. - -OPHELIA. -You are merry, my lord. - -HAMLET. -Who, I? - -OPHELIA. -Ay, my lord. - -HAMLET. -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. - -OPHELIA. -Nay, ’tis twice two months, my lord. - -HAMLET. -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!’ - -Trumpets sound. 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. 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 King’s ears, and -exits. The Queen returns, finds the King dead, and makes passionate -action. The Poisoner with some three or four Mutes, comes in again, -seeming to lament with her. The dead body is carried away. The Poisoner -woos the Queen with gifts. She seems loth and unwilling awhile, but in -the end accepts his love._ - -[_Exeunt._] - -OPHELIA. -What means this, my lord? - -HAMLET. -Marry, this is miching mallecho; it means mischief. - -OPHELIA. -Belike this show imports the argument of the play. - -Enter Prologue. - -HAMLET. -We shall know by this fellow: the players cannot keep counsel; they’ll -tell all. - -OPHELIA. -Will they tell us what this show meant? - -HAMLET. -Ay, or any show that you’ll show him. Be not you ashamed to show, he’ll -not shame to tell you what it means. - -OPHELIA. -You are naught, you are naught: I’ll mark the play. - -PROLOGUE. - _For us, and for our tragedy, - Here stooping to your clemency, - We beg your hearing patiently._ - -HAMLET. -Is this a prologue, or the posy of a ring? - -OPHELIA. -’Tis brief, my lord. - -HAMLET. -As woman’s love. - -Enter a King and a Queen. - -PLAYER KING. -Full thirty times hath Phoebus’ cart gone round -Neptune’s salt wash and Tellus’ orbed ground, -And thirty dozen moons with borrow’d sheen -About the world have times twelve thirties been, -Since love our hearts, and Hymen did our hands -Unite commutual in most sacred bands. - -PLAYER 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. - -PLAYER 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— - -PLAYER QUEEN. -O confound the rest. -Such love must needs be treason in my breast. -In second husband let me be accurst! -None wed the second but who kill’d the first. - -HAMLET. -[_Aside._] Wormwood, wormwood. - -PLAYER 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. - -PLAYER 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 fall 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. - -PLAYER 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. - -HAMLET. -[_To Ophelia._] If she should break it now. - -PLAYER KING. -’Tis deeply sworn. Sweet, leave me here awhile. -My spirits grow dull, and fain I would beguile -The tedious day with sleep. -[_Sleeps._] - -PLAYER QUEEN. -Sleep rock thy brain, -And never come mischance between us twain. - -[_Exit._] - -HAMLET. -Madam, how like you this play? - -QUEEN. -The lady protests too much, methinks. - -HAMLET. -O, but she’ll keep her word. - -KING. -Have you heard the argument? Is there no offence in’t? - -HAMLET. -No, no, they do but jest, poison in jest; no offence i’ th’ world. - -KING. -What do you call the play? - -HAMLET. -_The Mousetrap._ Marry, how? Tropically. This play is the image of a -murder 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 wince; our withers are unwrung. - -Enter Lucianus. - -This is one Lucianus, nephew to the King. - -OPHELIA. -You are a good chorus, my lord. - -HAMLET. -I could interpret between you and your love, if I could see the puppets -dallying. - -OPHELIA. -You are keen, my lord, you are keen. - -HAMLET. -It would cost you a groaning to take off my edge. - -OPHELIA. -Still better, and worse. - -HAMLET. -So you mistake your husbands.—Begin, murderer. Pox, leave thy damnable -faces, and begin. Come, the croaking raven doth bellow for revenge. - -LUCIANUS. -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 into the sleeper’s ears._] - -HAMLET. -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 murderer gets the love of Gonzago’s wife. - -OPHELIA. -The King rises. - -HAMLET. -What, frighted with false fire? - -QUEEN. -How fares my lord? - -POLONIUS. -Give o’er the play. - -KING. -Give me some light. Away. - -All. -Lights, lights, lights. - -[_Exeunt all but Hamlet and Horatio._] - -HAMLET. - Why, let the strucken deer go weep, - The hart ungalled play; - For some must watch, while some must sleep, - So 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 razed -shoes, get me a fellowship in a cry of players, sir? - -HORATIO. -Half a share. - -HAMLET. -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. - -HORATIO. -You might have rhymed. - -HAMLET. -O good Horatio, I’ll take the ghost’s word for a thousand pound. Didst -perceive? - -HORATIO. -Very well, my lord. - -HAMLET. -Upon the talk of the poisoning? - -HORATIO. -I did very well note him. - -HAMLET. -Ah, ha! Come, some music. Come, the recorders. - For if the king like not the comedy, - Why then, belike he likes it not, perdie. -Come, some music. - -Enter Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. - -GUILDENSTERN. -Good my lord, vouchsafe me a word with you. - -HAMLET. -Sir, a whole history. - -GUILDENSTERN. -The King, sir— - -HAMLET. -Ay, sir, what of him? - -GUILDENSTERN. -Is in his retirement, marvellous distempered. - -HAMLET. -With drink, sir? - -GUILDENSTERN. -No, my lord; rather with choler. - -HAMLET. -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. - -GUILDENSTERN. -Good my lord, put your discourse into some frame, and start not so -wildly from my affair. - -HAMLET. -I am tame, sir, pronounce. - -GUILDENSTERN. -The Queen your mother, in most great affliction of spirit, hath sent me -to you. - -HAMLET. -You are welcome. - -GUILDENSTERN. -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. - -HAMLET. -Sir, I cannot. - -GUILDENSTERN. -What, my lord? - -HAMLET. -Make you a wholesome answer. My wit’s diseased. But, sir, such answer -as I can make, you shall command; or rather, as you say, my mother. -Therefore no more, but to the matter. My mother, you say,— - -ROSENCRANTZ. -Then thus she says: your behaviour hath struck her into amazement and -admiration. - -HAMLET. -O wonderful son, that can so stonish a mother! But is there no sequel -at the heels of this mother’s admiration? - -ROSENCRANTZ. -She desires to speak with you in her closet ere you go to bed. - -HAMLET. -We shall obey, were she ten times our mother. Have you any further -trade with us? - -ROSENCRANTZ. -My lord, you once did love me. - -HAMLET. -And so I do still, by these pickers and stealers. - -ROSENCRANTZ. -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. - -HAMLET. -Sir, I lack advancement. - -ROSENCRANTZ. -How can that be, when you have the voice of the King himself for your -succession in Denmark? - -HAMLET. -Ay, sir, but while the grass grows—the proverb is something musty. - -Re-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? - -GUILDENSTERN. -O my lord, if my duty be too bold, my love is too unmannerly. - -HAMLET. -I do not well understand that. Will you play upon this pipe? - -GUILDENSTERN. -My lord, I cannot. - -HAMLET. -I pray you. - -GUILDENSTERN. -Believe me, I cannot. - -HAMLET. -I do beseech you. - -GUILDENSTERN. -I know no touch of it, my lord. - -HAMLET. -’Tis as easy as lying: govern these ventages with your finger and -thumb, give it breath with your mouth, and it will discourse most -eloquent music. Look you, these are the stops. - -GUILDENSTERN. -But these cannot I command to any utterance of harmony. I have not the -skill. - -HAMLET. -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 played 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. - -POLONIUS. -My lord, the Queen would speak with you, and presently. - -HAMLET. -Do you see yonder cloud that’s almost in shape of a camel? - -POLONIUS. -By the mass, and ’tis like a camel indeed. - -HAMLET. -Methinks it is like a weasel. - -POLONIUS. -It is backed like a weasel. - -HAMLET. -Or like a whale. - -POLONIUS. -Very like a whale. - -HAMLET. -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. - -POLONIUS. -I will say so. - -[_Exit._] - -HAMLET. -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. - -GUILDENSTERN. -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. - -ROSENCRANTZ. -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 depend and rest -The lives of many. The cease 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 this speedy voyage; -For we will fetters put upon this fear, -Which now goes too free-footed. - -ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN. -We will haste us. - -[_Exeunt Rosencrantz and Guildenstern._] - -Enter Polonius. - -POLONIUS. -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 murder! 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 murder! -That cannot be; since I am still possess’d -Of those effects for which I did the murder,— -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. - -[_Retires and kneels._] - -Enter Hamlet. - -HAMLET. -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. O, 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 season’d 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._] - -The King rises and advances. - -KING. -My words fly up, my thoughts remain below. -Words without thoughts never to heaven go. - -[_Exit._] - - SCENE IV. Another room in the Castle. - -Enter Queen and Polonius. - -POLONIUS. -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 e’en here. -Pray you be round with him. - -HAMLET. -[_Within._] Mother, mother, mother. - -QUEEN. -I’ll warrant you, Fear me not. -Withdraw, I hear him coming. - -[_Polonius goes behind the arras._] - -Enter Hamlet. - -HAMLET. -Now, mother, what’s the matter? - -QUEEN. -Hamlet, thou hast thy father much offended. - -HAMLET. -Mother, you have my father much offended. - -QUEEN. -Come, come, you answer with an idle tongue. - -HAMLET. -Go, go, you question with a wicked tongue. - -QUEEN. -Why, how now, Hamlet? - -HAMLET. -What’s the matter now? - -QUEEN. -Have you forgot me? - -HAMLET. -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. - -HAMLET. -Come, come, and sit you down, you shall not budge. -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 murder me? -Help, help, ho! - -POLONIUS. -[_Behind._] What, ho! help, help, help! - -HAMLET. -How now? A rat? [_Draws._] -Dead for a ducat, dead! - -[_Makes a pass through the arras._] - -POLONIUS. -[_Behind._] O, I am slain! - -[_Falls and dies._] - -QUEEN. -O me, what hast thou done? - -HAMLET. -Nay, I know not. Is it the King? - -[_Draws forth Polonius._] - -QUEEN. -O what a rash and bloody deed is this! - -HAMLET. -A bloody deed. Almost as bad, good mother, -As kill a king and marry with his brother. - -QUEEN. -As kill a king? - -HAMLET. -Ay, lady, ’twas my word.— -[_To 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 hands. 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? - -HAMLET. -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? - -HAMLET. -Look here upon this 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 hey-day in the blood is tame, it’s humble, -And waits upon the judgement: and what judgement -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. - -HAMLET. -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. - -HAMLET. -A murderer 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. - -HAMLET. -A king of shreds and patches!— - -Enter Ghost. - -Save me and hover o’er me with your wings, -You heavenly guards! What would your gracious figure? - -QUEEN. -Alas, he’s mad. - -HAMLET. -Do you not come your tardy son to chide, -That, laps’d in time and passion, lets go by -The 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. - -HAMLET. -How is it with you, lady? - -QUEEN. -Alas, how is’t with you, -That you do bend your eye on vacancy, -And with the incorporal air do hold discourse? -Forth at your eyes your spirits wildly peep, -And, as the sleeping soldiers in the alarm, -Your bedded hairs, like life in excrements, -Start up and stand an end. O gentle son, -Upon the heat and flame of thy distemper -Sprinkle cool patience. Whereon do you look? - -HAMLET. -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? - -HAMLET. -Do you see nothing there? - -QUEEN. -Nothing at all; yet all that is I see. - -HAMLET. -Nor did you nothing hear? - -QUEEN. -No, nothing but ourselves. - -HAMLET. -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. - -HAMLET. -Ecstasy! -My pulse as yours doth temperately keep time, -And makes as healthful music. It is not madness -That I have utter’d. Bring me to the test, -And I the matter will re-word; 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, -Whilst 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. - -HAMLET. -O throw away the worser part of it, -And live the purer with the other half. -Good night. But go not to mine 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 tonight, -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 curb the devil, or throw him out -With wondrous potency. Once more, good night, -And when you are desirous to be bles’d, -I’ll blessing beg of you. For this same lord -[_Pointing to Polonius._] -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? - -HAMLET. -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. - -HAMLET. -I must to England, you know that? - -QUEEN. -Alack, -I had forgot. ’Tis so concluded on. - -HAMLET. -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 petard, 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 prating knave. -Come, sir, to draw toward an end with you. -Good night, mother. - -[_Exit Hamlet dragging out Polonius._] - - - - -ACT IV - -SCENE I. A room in the Castle. - - -Enter King, Queen, 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. - -[_To Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, who go out._] - -Ah, my good lord, what have I seen tonight! - -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 everyone. -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! - -Re-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 poison’d shot, may miss our name, -And hit the woundless air. O, come away! -My soul is full of discord and dismay. - -[_Exeunt._] - - SCENE II. Another room in the Castle. - -Enter Hamlet. - -HAMLET. -Safely stowed. - -ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN. -[_Within._] Hamlet! Lord Hamlet! - -HAMLET. -What noise? Who calls on Hamlet? O, here they come. - -Enter Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. - -ROSENCRANTZ. -What have you done, my lord, with the dead body? - -HAMLET. -Compounded it with dust, whereto ’tis kin. - -ROSENCRANTZ. -Tell us where ’tis, that we may take it thence, -And bear it to the chapel. - -HAMLET. -Do not believe it. - -ROSENCRANTZ. -Believe what? - -HAMLET. -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? - -ROSENCRANTZ. -Take you me for a sponge, my lord? - -HAMLET. -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 mouthed, to be -last swallowed: when he needs what you have gleaned, it is but -squeezing you, and, sponge, you shall be dry again. - -ROSENCRANTZ. -I understand you not, my lord. - -HAMLET. -I am glad of it. A knavish speech sleeps in a foolish ear. - -ROSENCRANTZ. -My lord, you must tell us where the body is and go with us to the King. - -HAMLET. -The body is with the King, but the King is not with the body. The King -is a thing— - -GUILDENSTERN. -A thing, my lord! - -HAMLET. -Of nothing. Bring me to him. Hide fox, and all after. - -[_Exeunt._] - - SCENE III. Another room in the Castle. - -Enter King, attended. - -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 judgement, 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? What hath befall’n? - -ROSENCRANTZ. -Where the dead body is bestow’d, my lord, -We cannot get from him. - -KING. -But where is he? - -ROSENCRANTZ. -Without, my lord, guarded, to know your pleasure. - -KING. -Bring him before us. - -ROSENCRANTZ. -Ho, Guildenstern! Bring in my lord. - -Enter Hamlet and Guildenstern. - -KING. -Now, Hamlet, where’s Polonius? - -HAMLET. -At supper. - -KING. -At supper? Where? - -HAMLET. -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! - -HAMLET. -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? - -HAMLET. -Nothing but to show you how a king may go a progress through the guts -of a beggar. - -KING. -Where is Polonius? - -HAMLET. -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 stairs into the -lobby. - -KING. -[_To some Attendants._] Go seek him there. - -HAMLET. -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. - -HAMLET. -For England? - -KING. -Ay, Hamlet. - -HAMLET. -Good. - -KING. -So is it, if thou knew’st our purposes. - -HAMLET. -I see a cherub that sees them. But, come; for England! Farewell, dear -mother. - -KING. -Thy loving father, Hamlet. - -HAMLET. -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 tonight. -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 conjuring 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._] - - SCENE IV. A plain in Denmark. - -Enter Fortinbras and Forces marching. - -FORTINBRAS. -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. - -CAPTAIN. -I will do’t, my lord. - -FORTINBRAS. -Go softly on. - -[_Exeunt all but the Captain._] - -Enter Hamlet, Rosencrantz, Guildenstern &c. - -HAMLET. -Good sir, whose powers are these? - -CAPTAIN. -They are of Norway, sir. - -HAMLET. -How purpos’d, sir, I pray you? - -CAPTAIN. -Against some part of Poland. - -HAMLET. -Who commands them, sir? - -CAPTAIN. -The nephew to old Norway, Fortinbras. - -HAMLET. -Goes it against the main of Poland, sir, -Or for some frontier? - -CAPTAIN. -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. - -HAMLET. -Why, then the Polack never will defend it. - -CAPTAIN. -Yes, it is already garrison’d. - -HAMLET. -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. - -CAPTAIN. -God b’ wi’ you, sir. - -[_Exit._] - -ROSENCRANTZ. -Will’t please you go, my lord? - -HAMLET. -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 kill’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._] - - SCENE V. Elsinore. A room in the Castle. - -Enter Queen, Horatio and a Gentleman. - -QUEEN. -I will not speak with her. - -GENTLEMAN. -She is importunate, indeed distract. -Her mood will needs be pitied. - -QUEEN. -What would she have? - -GENTLEMAN. -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. -’Twere good she were spoken with, for she may strew -Dangerous conjectures in ill-breeding minds. - -QUEEN. -Let her come in. - -[_Exit Gentleman._] - -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. - -OPHELIA. -Where is the beauteous Majesty of Denmark? - -QUEEN. -How now, Ophelia? - -OPHELIA. -[_Sings._] - How should I your true love know - From another one? - By his cockle hat and staff - And his sandal shoon. - -QUEEN. -Alas, sweet lady, what imports this song? - -OPHELIA. -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. - -QUEEN. -Nay, but Ophelia— - -OPHELIA. -Pray you mark. -[_Sings._] - White his shroud as the mountain snow. - -Enter King. - -QUEEN. -Alas, look here, my lord! - -OPHELIA. -[_Sings._] - Larded all with sweet flowers; - Which bewept to the grave did not go - With true-love showers. - -KING. -How do you, pretty lady? - -OPHELIA. -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. - -OPHELIA. -Pray you, let’s have no words of this; but when they ask you what it -means, say you this: -[_Sings._] - Tomorrow is Saint Valentine’s day, - All in the morning betime, - And I a maid at your window, - To be your Valentine. - - Then up he rose and donn’d his clothes, - And dupp’d the chamber door, - Let in the maid, that out a maid - Never departed more. - -KING. -Pretty Ophelia! - -OPHELIA. -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. - So would I ha’ done, by yonder sun, - An thou hadst not come to my bed. - -KING. -How long hath she been thus? - -OPHELIA. -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 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 judgement, -Without the which we are pictures or mere beasts. -Last, and as much containing as all these, -Her brother is in secret come from France, -Feeds on his wonder, keeps himself in clouds, -And wants not buzzers to infect his ear -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 murdering piece, in many places -Gives me superfluous death. - -[_A noise within._] - -QUEEN. -Alack, what noise is this? - -KING. -Where are my Switzers? Let them guard the door. - -Enter a Gentleman. - -What is the matter? - -GENTLEMAN. -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.’ - -QUEEN. -How cheerfully on the false trail they cry. -O, this is counter, you false Danish dogs. - -[_A noise within._] - -KING. -The doors are broke. - -Enter Laertes, armed; Danes following. - -LAERTES. -Where is this king?—Sirs, stand you all without. - -Danes. -No, let’s come in. - -LAERTES. -I pray you, give me leave. - -DANES. -We will, we will. - -[_They retire without the door._] - -LAERTES. -I thank you. Keep the door. O thou vile king, -Give me my father. - -QUEEN. -Calmly, good Laertes. - -LAERTES. -That drop of blood that’s calm proclaims me bastard; -Cries cuckold to my father, brands the harlot -Even here between the chaste unsmirched brow -Of my true mother. - -KING. -What is the cause, Laertes, -That thy rebellion looks so giant-like?— -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. - -LAERTES. -Where is my father? - -KING. -Dead. - -QUEEN. -But not by him. - -KING. -Let him demand his fill. - -LAERTES. -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 worlds, I give to negligence, -Let come what comes; only I’ll be reveng’d -Most throughly for my father. - -KING. -Who shall stay you? - -LAERTES. -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, sweepstake, you will draw both friend and foe, -Winner and loser? - -LAERTES. -None but his enemies. - -KING. -Will you know them then? - -LAERTES. -To his good friends thus wide I’ll ope my arms; -And, like the kind life-rendering 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 judgement ’pear -As day does to your eye. - -DANES. -[_Within._] Let her come in. - -LAERTES. -How now! What noise is that? - -Re-enter Ophelia, fantastically dressed with straws and flowers. - -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. - -OPHELIA. -[_Sings._] - They bore him barefac’d on the bier, - Hey non nonny, nonny, hey nonny - And on his grave rain’d many a tear.— - Fare you well, my dove! - -LAERTES. -Hadst thou thy wits, and didst persuade revenge, -It could not move thus. - -OPHELIA. -You must sing ‘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. - -LAERTES. -This nothing’s more than matter. - -OPHELIA. -There’s rosemary, that’s for remembrance; pray love, remember. And -there is pansies, that’s for thoughts. - -LAERTES. -A document in madness, thoughts and remembrance fitted. - -OPHELIA. -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. - -LAERTES. -Thought and affliction, passion, hell itself -She turns to favour and to prettiness. - -OPHELIA. -[_Sings._] - And will he not come again? - And will he not come again? - No, no, he is dead, - Go to thy death-bed, - 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 ha’ mercy on his soul. - -And of all Christian souls, I pray God. God b’ wi’ ye. - -[_Exit._] - -LAERTES. -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. - -LAERTES. -Let this be so; -His means of death, his obscure burial,— -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._] - - SCENE VI. Another room in the Castle. - -Enter Horatio and a Servant. - -HORATIO. -What are they that would speak with me? - -SERVANT. -Sailors, sir. They say they have letters for you. - -HORATIO. -Let them come in. - -[_Exit Servant._] - -I do not know from what part of the world -I should be greeted, if not from Lord Hamlet. - -Enter Sailors. - -FIRST SAILOR. -God bless you, sir. - -HORATIO. -Let him bless thee too. - -FIRST SAILOR. -He shall, sir, and’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. - -HORATIO. -[_Reads._] ‘Horatio, when thou shalt have overlooked 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 haste 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._] - - SCENE VII. 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 -Pursu’d my life. - -LAERTES. -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, seem 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 gyves 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. - -LAERTES. -And so have I a noble father lost, -A sister driven into desperate 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. - -How now? What news? - -MESSENGER. -Letters, my lord, from Hamlet. -This to your Majesty; this to the Queen. - -KING. -From Hamlet! Who brought them? - -MESSENGER. -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. Tomorrow shall I beg leave to see your kingly eyes. When I -shall, first asking your pardon thereunto, recount the occasions 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? - -LAERTES. -Know you the hand? - -KING. -’Tis Hamlet’s character. ‘Naked!’ -And in a postscript here he says ‘alone.’ -Can you advise me? - -LAERTES. -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 diest thou.’ - -KING. -If it be so, Laertes,— -As how should it be so? How otherwise?— -Will you be rul’d by me? - -LAERTES. -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 an exploit, now ripe in my device, -Under the which he shall not choose but fall; -And for his death no wind shall breathe, -But even his mother shall uncharge the practice -And call it accident. - -LAERTES. -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 sum of parts -Did not together pluck such envy from him -As did that one, and that, in my regard, -Of the unworthiest siege. - -LAERTES. -What part is that, my lord? - -KING. -A very riband in the cap of youth, -Yet needful too, for youth no less becomes -The light and careless livery that it wears -Than settled age his sables and his weeds, -Importing health and graveness. Two months since -Here was a gentleman of Normandy,— -I’ve 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. - -LAERTES. -A Norman was’t? - -KING. -A Norman. - -LAERTES. -Upon my life, Lamord. - -KING. -The very same. - -LAERTES. -I know him well. He is the brooch 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 him. -Now, out of this,— - -LAERTES. -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? - -LAERTES. -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 pleurisy, -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? - -LAERTES. -To cut his throat i’ th’ church. - -KING. -No place, indeed, should murder sanctuarize; -Revenge should have no bounds. But good Laertes, -Will you do this, keep close within your chamber. -Hamlet 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. - -LAERTES. -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 fail, -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. - -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. - -LAERTES. -Drown’d! O, where? - -QUEEN. -There is a willow grows aslant a brook, -That shows his hoary leaves in the glassy stream. -There with fantastic garlands did she make -Of crow-flowers, 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. - -LAERTES. -Alas, then she is drown’d? - -QUEEN. -Drown’d, drown’d. - -LAERTES. -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! -Now fear I this will give it start again; -Therefore let’s follow. - -[_Exeunt._] - - - - -ACT V - -SCENE I. A churchyard. - - -Enter two Clowns with spades, &c. - -FIRST CLOWN. -Is she to be buried in Christian burial, when she wilfully seeks her -own salvation? - -SECOND CLOWN. -I tell thee she is, and therefore make her grave straight. The crowner -hath sat on her, and finds it Christian burial. - -FIRST CLOWN. -How can that be, unless she drowned herself in her own defence? - -SECOND CLOWN. -Why, ’tis found so. - -FIRST 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 drowned -herself wittingly. - -SECOND CLOWN. -Nay, but hear you, goodman delver,— - -FIRST 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. - -SECOND CLOWN. -But is this law? - -FIRST CLOWN. -Ay, marry, is’t, crowner’s quest law. - -SECOND CLOWN. -Will you ha’ the truth on’t? If this had not been a gentlewoman, she -should have been buried out o’ Christian burial. - -FIRST CLOWN. -Why, there thou say’st. And the more pity that great folk should have -countenance in this world to drown or hang themselves more than their -even Christian. Come, my spade. There is no ancient gentlemen but -gardeners, ditchers, and grave-makers: they hold up Adam’s profession. - -SECOND CLOWN. -Was he a gentleman? - -FIRST CLOWN. -He was the first that ever bore arms. - -SECOND CLOWN. -Why, he had none. - -FIRST 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— - -SECOND CLOWN. -Go to. - -FIRST CLOWN. -What is he that builds stronger than either the mason, the shipwright, -or the carpenter? - -SECOND CLOWN. -The gallows-maker; for that frame outlives a thousand tenants. - -FIRST 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. - -SECOND CLOWN. -Who builds stronger than a mason, a shipwright, or a carpenter? - -FIRST CLOWN. -Ay, tell me that, and unyoke. - -SECOND CLOWN. -Marry, now I can tell. - -FIRST CLOWN. -To’t. - -SECOND CLOWN. -Mass, I cannot tell. - -Enter Hamlet and Horatio, at a distance. - -FIRST CLOWN. -Cudgel thy brains no more about it, for your dull ass will not mend his -pace with beating; and when you are asked this question next, say ‘a -grave-maker’. The houses he makes last till doomsday. Go, get thee to -Yaughan; fetch me a stoup of liquor. - -[_Exit Second 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 was nothing meet. - -HAMLET. -Has this fellow no feeling of his business, that he sings at -grave-making? - -HORATIO. -Custom hath made it in him a property of easiness. - -HAMLET. -’Tis e’en so; the hand of little employment hath the daintier sense. - -FIRST CLOWN. -[_Sings._] - But age with his stealing steps - Hath claw’d me in his clutch, - And hath shipp’d me into the land, - As if I had never been such. - -[_Throws up a skull._] - -HAMLET. -That skull had a tongue in it, and could sing once. How the knave jowls -it to th’ ground, as if ’twere Cain’s jawbone, that did the first -murder! This might be the pate of a politician which this ass now -o’er-offices, one that would circumvent God, might it not? - -HORATIO. -It might, my lord. - -HAMLET. -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 praised my -lord such-a-one’s horse when he meant to beg it, might it not? - -HORATIO. -Ay, my lord. - -HAMLET. -Why, e’en so: and now my Lady Worm’s; chapless, and knocked about the -mazard with a sexton’s spade. Here’s fine revolution, an 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. - -FIRST 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._] - -HAMLET. -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 the inheritor himself -have no more, ha? - -HORATIO. -Not a jot more, my lord. - -HAMLET. -Is not parchment made of sheep-skins? - -HORATIO. -Ay, my lord, and of calf-skins too. - -HAMLET. -They are sheep and calves which seek out assurance in that. I will -speak to this fellow.—Whose grave’s this, sir? - -FIRST CLOWN. -Mine, sir. -[_Sings._] - O, a pit of clay for to be made - For such a guest is meet. - -HAMLET. -I think it be thine indeed, for thou liest in’t. - -FIRST 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. - -HAMLET. -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. - -FIRST CLOWN. -’Tis a quick lie, sir; ’t will away again from me to you. - -HAMLET. -What man dost thou dig it for? - -FIRST CLOWN. -For no man, sir. - -HAMLET. -What woman then? - -FIRST CLOWN. -For none neither. - -HAMLET. -Who is to be buried in’t? - -FIRST CLOWN. -One that was a woman, sir; but, rest her soul, she’s dead. - -HAMLET. -How absolute the knave is! We must speak by the card, or equivocation -will undo us. By the Lord, Horatio, these 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? - -FIRST CLOWN. -Of all the days i’ th’ year, I came to’t that day that our last King -Hamlet o’ercame Fortinbras. - -HAMLET. -How long is that since? - -FIRST 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. - -HAMLET. -Ay, marry, why was he sent into England? - -FIRST CLOWN. -Why, because he was mad; he shall recover his wits there; or if he do -not, it’s no great matter there. - -HAMLET. -Why? - -FIRST CLOWN. -’Twill not be seen in him there; there the men are as mad as he. - -HAMLET. -How came he mad? - -FIRST CLOWN. -Very strangely, they say. - -HAMLET. -How strangely? - -FIRST CLOWN. -Faith, e’en with losing his wits. - -HAMLET. -Upon what ground? - -FIRST CLOWN. -Why, here in Denmark. I have been sexton here, man and boy, thirty -years. - -HAMLET. -How long will a man lie i’ th’earth ere he rot? - -FIRST CLOWN. -Faith, if he be not rotten before he die,—as we have many pocky corses -nowadays that will scarce hold the laying in,—he will last you some -eight year or nine year. A tanner will last you nine year. - -HAMLET. -Why he more than another? - -FIRST CLOWN. -Why, sir, his hide is so tann’d with his trade that he 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 lain in the earth -three-and-twenty years. - -HAMLET. -Whose was it? - -FIRST CLOWN. -A whoreson, mad fellow’s it was. Whose do you think it was? - -HAMLET. -Nay, I know not. - -FIRST 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. - -HAMLET. -This? - -FIRST CLOWN. -E’en that. - -HAMLET. -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 times; 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 chop-fallen? -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. - -HORATIO. -What’s that, my lord? - -HAMLET. -Dost thou think Alexander looked o’ this fashion i’ th’earth? - -HORATIO. -E’en so. - -HAMLET. -And smelt so? Pah! - -[_Throws down the skull._] - -HORATIO. -E’en so, my lord. - -HAMLET. -To what base uses we may return, Horatio! Why may not imagination trace -the noble dust of Alexander till he find it stopping a bung-hole? - -HORATIO. -’Twere to consider too curiously to consider so. - -HAMLET. -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, &c, in procession; the corpse of Ophelia, Laertes and -Mourners following; King, Queen, their Trains, &c. - -The Queen, the courtiers. Who is that they follow? -And with such maimed rites? This doth betoken -The corse they follow did with desperate hand -Fordo it own life. ’Twas of some estate. -Couch we awhile and mark. - -[_Retiring with Horatio._] - -LAERTES. -What ceremony else? - -HAMLET. -That is Laertes, a very noble youth. Mark. - -LAERTES. -What ceremony else? - -PRIEST. -Her obsequies have been as far enlarg’d -As we have warranties. 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 allowed her virgin rites, -Her maiden strewments, and the bringing home -Of bell and burial. - -LAERTES. -Must there no more be done? - -PRIEST. -No more be done. -We should profane the service of the dead -To sing sage requiem and such rest to her -As to peace-parted souls. - -LAERTES. -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. - -HAMLET. -What, the fair Ophelia? - -QUEEN. -[_Scattering flowers._] Sweets to the sweet. Farewell. -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. - -LAERTES. -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 a while, -Till I have caught her once more in mine arms. -[_Leaps into the grave._] -Now pile your dust upon the quick and dead, -Till of this flat a mountain you have made, -To o’ertop old Pelion or the skyish head -Of blue Olympus. - -HAMLET. -[_Advancing._] -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 into the grave._] - -LAERTES. -[_Grappling with him._] The devil take thy soul! - -HAMLET. -Thou pray’st not well. -I prithee take thy fingers from my throat; -For though I am not splenative and rash, -Yet have I in me something dangerous, -Which let thy wiseness fear. Away thy hand! - -KING. -Pluck them asunder. - -QUEEN. -Hamlet! Hamlet! - -All. -Gentlemen! - -HORATIO. -Good my lord, be quiet. - -[_The Attendants part them, and they come out of the grave._] - -HAMLET. -Why, I will fight with him upon this theme -Until my eyelids will no longer wag. - -QUEEN. -O my son, what theme? - -HAMLET. -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! - -HAMLET. -’Swounds, show me what thou’lt do: -Woul’t weep? woul’t fight? woul’t fast? woul’t tear thyself? -Woul’t drink up eisel? 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 awhile 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. - -HAMLET. -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. A hall in the Castle. - -Enter Hamlet and Horatio. - -HAMLET. -So much for this, sir. Now let me see the other; -You do remember all the circumstance? - -HORATIO. -Remember it, my lord! - -HAMLET. -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 teach us -There’s a divinity that shapes our ends, -Rough-hew them how we will. - -HORATIO. -That is most certain. - -HAMLET. -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, -Oh royal knavery! an exact command, -Larded with many several sorts of reasons, -Importing Denmark’s health, and England’s too, -With ho! such bugs and goblins in my life, -That on the supervise, no leisure bated, -No, not to stay the grinding of the axe, -My head should be struck off. - -HORATIO. -Is’t possible? - -HAMLET. -Here’s the commission, read it at more leisure. -But wilt thou hear me how I did proceed? - -HORATIO. -I beseech you. - -HAMLET. -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 -The effect of what I wrote? - -HORATIO. -Ay, good my lord. - -HAMLET. -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’es of great charge, -That on the view and know of these contents, -Without debatement further, more or less, -He should the bearers put to sudden death, -Not shriving-time allow’d. - -HORATIO. -How was this seal’d? - -HAMLET. -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 the 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. - -HORATIO. -So Guildenstern and Rosencrantz go to’t. - -HAMLET. -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. - -HORATIO. -Why, what a king is this! - -HAMLET. -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 cozenage—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? - -HORATIO. -It must be shortly known to him from England -What is the issue of the business there. - -HAMLET. -It will be short. The interim is mine; -And a man’s life’s 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. - -HORATIO. -Peace, who comes here? - -Enter Osric. - -OSRIC. -Your lordship is right welcome back to Denmark. - -HAMLET. -I humbly thank you, sir. Dost know this waterfly? - -HORATIO. -No, my good lord. - -HAMLET. -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. - -OSRIC. -Sweet lord, if your lordship were at leisure, I should impart a thing -to you from his Majesty. - -HAMLET. -I will receive it with all diligence of spirit. Put your bonnet to his -right use; ’tis for the head. - -OSRIC. -I thank your lordship, ’tis very hot. - -HAMLET. -No, believe me, ’tis very cold, the wind is northerly. - -OSRIC. -It is indifferent cold, my lord, indeed. - -HAMLET. -Methinks it is very sultry and hot for my complexion. - -OSRIC. -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,— - -HAMLET. -I beseech you, remember,— - -[_Hamlet moves him to put on his hat._] - -OSRIC. -Nay, in good faith; 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. - -HAMLET. -Sir, his definement suffers no perdition in you, though I know, to -divide him inventorially would dizzy 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. - -OSRIC. -Your lordship speaks most infallibly of him. - -HAMLET. -The concernancy, sir? Why do we wrap the gentleman in our more rawer -breath? - -OSRIC. -Sir? - -HORATIO. -Is’t not possible to understand in another tongue? You will do’t, sir, -really. - -HAMLET. -What imports the nomination of this gentleman? - -OSRIC. -Of Laertes? - -HORATIO. -His purse is empty already, all’s golden words are spent. - -HAMLET. -Of him, sir. - -OSRIC. -I know you are not ignorant,— - -HAMLET. -I would you did, sir; yet in faith if you did, it would not much -approve me. Well, sir? - -OSRIC. -You are not ignorant of what excellence Laertes is,— - -HAMLET. -I dare not confess that, lest I should compare with him in excellence; -but to know a man well were to know himself. - -OSRIC. -I mean, sir, for his weapon; but in the imputation laid on him, by them -in his meed he’s unfellowed. - -HAMLET. -What’s his weapon? - -OSRIC. -Rapier and dagger. - -HAMLET. -That’s two of his weapons. But well. - -OSRIC. -The King, sir, hath wager’d with him six Barbary horses, against the -which he has imponed, 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. - -HAMLET. -What call you the carriages? - -HORATIO. -I knew you must be edified by the margin ere you had done. - -OSRIC. -The carriages, sir, are the hangers. - -HAMLET. -The phrase would be more german 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 imponed, as you call it? - -OSRIC. -The King, sir, hath laid that in a dozen passes between you 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. - -HAMLET. -How if I answer no? - -OSRIC. -I mean, my lord, the opposition of your person in trial. - -HAMLET. -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. - -OSRIC. -Shall I re-deliver you e’en so? - -HAMLET. -To this effect, sir; after what flourish your nature will. - -OSRIC. -I commend my duty to your lordship. - -HAMLET. -Yours, yours. - -[_Exit Osric._] - -He does well to commend it himself, there are no tongues else for’s -turn. - -HORATIO. -This lapwing runs away with the shell on his head. - -HAMLET. -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 yeasty -collection, which carries them through and through the most fanned 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. - -HAMLET. -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. - -HAMLET. -In happy time. - -LORD. -The Queen desires you to use some gentle entertainment to Laertes -before you fall to play. - -HAMLET. -She well instructs me. - -[_Exit Lord._] - -HORATIO. -You will lose this wager, my lord. - -HAMLET. -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. - -HORATIO. -Nay, good my lord. - -HAMLET. -It is but foolery; but it is such a kind of gain-giving as would -perhaps trouble a woman. - -HORATIO. -If your mind dislike anything, obey it. I will forestall their repair -hither, and say you are not fit. - -HAMLET. -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 has aught of what he leaves, what is’t to leave betimes? - -Enter King, Queen, Laertes, Lords, Osric and Attendants with foils &c. - -KING. -Come, Hamlet, come, and take this hand from me. - -[_The King puts Laertes’s hand into Hamlet’s._] - -HAMLET. -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 ta’en 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. - -LAERTES. -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. - -HAMLET. -I embrace it freely, -And will this brother’s wager frankly play.— -Give us the foils; come on. - -LAERTES. -Come, one for me. - -HAMLET. -I’ll be your foil, Laertes; in mine ignorance -Your skill shall like a star i’ th’ darkest night, -Stick fiery off indeed. - -LAERTES. -You mock me, sir. - -HAMLET. -No, by this hand. - -KING. -Give them the foils, young Osric. Cousin Hamlet, -You know the wager? - -HAMLET. -Very well, my lord. -Your Grace has laid the odds o’ the weaker side. - -KING. -I do not fear it. I have seen you both; -But since he is better’d, we have therefore odds. - -LAERTES. -This is too heavy. Let me see another. - -HAMLET. -This likes me well. These foils have all a length? - -[_They prepare to play._] - -OSRIC. -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 heavens to earth, -‘Now the King drinks to Hamlet.’ Come, begin. -And you, the judges, bear a wary eye. - -HAMLET. -Come on, sir. - -LAERTES. -Come, my lord. - -[_They play._] - -HAMLET. -One. - -LAERTES. -No. - -HAMLET. -Judgement. - -OSRIC. -A hit, a very palpable hit. - -LAERTES. -Well; again. - -KING. -Stay, give me drink. Hamlet, this pearl is thine; -Here’s to thy health. - -[_Trumpets sound, and cannon shot off within._] - -Give him the cup. - -HAMLET. -I’ll play this bout first; set it by awhile. - -[_They play._] - -Come. Another hit; what say you? - -LAERTES. -A touch, a touch, I do confess. - -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. - -HAMLET. -Good madam. - -KING. -Gertrude, do not drink. - -QUEEN. -I will, my lord; I pray you pardon me. - -KING. -[_Aside._] It is the poison’d cup; it is too late. - -HAMLET. -I dare not drink yet, madam. By and by. - -QUEEN. -Come, let me wipe thy face. - -LAERTES. -My lord, I’ll hit him now. - -KING. -I do not think’t. - -LAERTES. -[_Aside._] And yet ’tis almost ’gainst my conscience. - -HAMLET. -Come for the third, Laertes. You do but dally. -I pray you pass with your best violence. -I am afeard you make a wanton of me. - -LAERTES. -Say you so? Come on. - -[_They play._] - -OSRIC. -Nothing neither way. - -LAERTES. -Have at you now. - -[_Laertes wounds Hamlet; then, in scuffling, they change rapiers, and -Hamlet wounds Laertes._] - -KING. -Part them; they are incens’d. - -HAMLET. -Nay, come again! - -[_The Queen falls._] - -OSRIC. -Look to the Queen there, ho! - -HORATIO. -They bleed on both sides. How is it, my lord? - -OSRIC. -How is’t, Laertes? - -LAERTES. -Why, as a woodcock to my own springe, Osric. -I am justly kill’d with mine own treachery. - -HAMLET. -How does the Queen? - -KING. -She swoons to see them bleed. - -QUEEN. -No, no, the drink, the drink! O my dear Hamlet! -The drink, the drink! I am poison’d. - -[_Dies._] - -HAMLET. -O villany! Ho! Let the door be lock’d: -Treachery! Seek it out. - -[_Laertes falls._] - -LAERTES. -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. - -HAMLET. -The point envenom’d too! -Then, venom, to thy work. - -[_Stabs the King._] - -OSRIC and LORDS. -Treason! treason! - -KING. -O yet defend me, friends. I am but hurt. - -HAMLET. -Here, thou incestuous, murderous, damned Dane, -Drink off this potion. Is thy union here? -Follow my mother. - -[_King dies._] - -LAERTES. -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._] - -HAMLET. -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. - -HORATIO. -Never believe it. -I am more an antique Roman than a Dane. -Here’s yet some liquor left. - -HAMLET. -As th’art a man, -Give me the cup. Let go; by Heaven, I’ll have’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? - -OSRIC. -Young Fortinbras, with conquest come from Poland, -To the ambassadors of England gives -This warlike volley. - -HAMLET. -O, I die, Horatio. -The potent poison quite o’er-crows 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 the occurrents more and less, -Which have solicited. The rest is silence. - -[_Dies._] - -HORATIO. -Now cracks a noble heart. Good night, sweet prince, -And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest. -Why does the drum come hither? - -[_March within._] - -Enter Fortinbras, the English Ambassadors and others. - -FORTINBRAS. -Where is this sight? - -HORATIO. -What is it you would see? -If aught of woe or wonder, cease your search. - -FORTINBRAS. -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? - -FIRST AMBASSADOR. -The sight is dismal; -And our affairs from England come too late. -The ears are senseless that should give us hearing, -To tell him his commandment is fulfill’d, -That Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are dead. -Where should we have our thanks? - -HORATIO. -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 th’ yet unknowing world -How these things came about. So shall you hear -Of carnal, bloody and unnatural acts, -Of accidental judgements, casual slaughters, -Of deaths put on by cunning and forc’d cause, -And, in this upshot, purposes mistook -Fall’n on the inventors’ heads. All this can I -Truly deliver. - -FORTINBRAS. -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. - -HORATIO. -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. - -FORTINBRAS. -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. - -[_A dead march._] - -[_Exeunt, bearing off the bodies, after which a peal of ordnance is -shot off._] - - - - -THE FIRST PART OF KING HENRY THE FOURTH - - - - -Contents - -ACT I -Scene I. London. A Room in the Palace. -Scene II. The same. An Apartment of Prince Henry’s. -Scene III. The Same. A Room in the Palace. - -ACT II -Scene I. Rochester. An Inn-Yard. -Scene II. The Road by Gads-hill. -Scene III. Warkworth. A Room in the Castle. -Scene IV. Eastcheap. A Room in the Boar’s Head Tavern. - -ACT III -Scene I. Bangor. A Room in the Archdeacon’s House. -Scene II. London. A Room in the Palace. -Scene III. Eastcheap. A Room in the Boar’s Head Tavern. - -ACT IV -Scene I. The Rebel Camp near Shrewsbury. -Scene II. A public Road near Coventry. -Scene III. The Rebel Camp near Shrewsbury. -Scene IV. York. A Room in the Archbishop’s Palace. - -ACT V -Scene I. The King’s Camp near Shrewsbury. -Scene II. The Rebel Camp. -Scene III. Plain between the Camps. -Scene IV. Another Part of the Field. -Scene V. Another Part of the Field. - - - - -Dramatis Personæ - -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. -Scroop, ARCHBISHOP of York. -SIR MICHAEL, a friend to the archbishop of York. -Archibald, Earl of DOUGLAS. -Owen GLENDOWER. -Sir Richard VERNON. -Sir John FALSTAFF. -POINS. -GADSHILL. -PETO. -BARDOLPH. -LADY PERCY, Wife to Hotspur. -Lady Mortimer, Daughter to Glendower. -Mrs. Quickly, Hostess in Eastcheap. -Lords, Officers, Sheriff, Vintner, Chamberlain, Drawers, Carriers, -Ostler, Messengers, Servant, Travellers and Attendants. - -SCENE. England and Wales. - - - - -ACT I - - -SCENE I. London. A Room in the Palace. - -Enter the King, Lord John of Lancaster, Earl of Westmoreland 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 commenced in strands 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 opposed -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 engaged to fight— -Forthwith a power of English shall we levy, -Whose arms were molded in their mothers’ womb -To chase these pagans in those holy fields -Over whose acres walked those blessed feet -Which fourteen hundred years ago were nailed -For our advantage on the bitter cross. -But this our purpose now is twelve month 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. - -WESTMORELAND. -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. - -WESTMORELAND. -This, matched 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 and true-industrious friend, -Sir Walter Blunt, new lighted from his horse, -Stained 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, -Balked 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? - -WESTMORELAND. -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 proved -That some night-tripping fairy had exchanged -In cradle-clothes our children where they lay, -And called 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 surprised -To his own use he keeps, and sends me word -I shall have none but Mordake, Earl of Fife. - -WESTMORELAND. -This is his uncle’s teaching, this is 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. - -WESTMORELAND. -I will, my liege. - -[_Exeunt._] - -SCENE II. The same. An Apartment of Prince Henry’s. - -Enter Prince Henry and Sir John Falstaff. - -FALSTAFF. -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 wouldst 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. - -FALSTAFF. -Indeed, you come near me now, Hal, for we that take purses go by the -moon and the seven stars, and not by Phœbus, 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? - -FALSTAFF. -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. - -FALSTAFF. -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 -snatched on Monday night, and most dissolutely spent on Tuesday -morning, got with swearing “Lay by” and spent with crying “Bring in”; -now in 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. - -FALSTAFF. -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? - -FALSTAFF. -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? - -FALSTAFF. -Well, thou hast called her to a reckoning many a time and oft. - -PRINCE. -Did I ever call for thee to pay thy part? - -FALSTAFF. -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. - -FALSTAFF. -Yea, and so used 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 fubbed 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. - -FALSTAFF. -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. - -FALSTAFF. -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? - -FALSTAFF. -Yea, for obtaining of suits, whereof the hangman hath no lean wardrobe. -’Sblood, I am as melancholy as a gib cat or a lugged bear. - -PRINCE. -Or an old lion, or a lover’s lute. - -FALSTAFF. -Yea, or the drone of a Lincolnshire bagpipe. - -PRINCE. -What sayest thou to a hare, or the melancholy of Moor-ditch? - -FALSTAFF. -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 marked him -not, and yet he talked very wisely, but I regarded him not, and yet he -talked wisely, and in the street too. - -PRINCE. -Thou didst well, for wisdom cries out in the streets and no man regards -it. - -FALSTAFF. -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 damned for never a king’s son in Christendom. - -PRINCE. -Where shall we take a purse tomorrow, Jack? - -FALSTAFF. -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. - -FALSTAFF. -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 damned for keeping thy word with the devil. - -PRINCE. -Else he had been damned for cozening the devil. - -POINS. -But, my lads, my lads, tomorrow morning, by four o’clock early at Gad’s -Hill, there are pilgrims going to Canterbury with rich offerings, and -traders riding to London with fat purses. I have visards for you all; -you have horses for yourselves. Gadshill lies tonight in Rochester. I -have bespoke supper tomorrow 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 hanged. - -FALSTAFF. -Hear ye, Yedward, if I tarry at home and go not, I’ll hang you for -going. - -POINS. -You will, chops? - -FALSTAFF. -Hal, wilt thou make one? - -PRINCE. -Who, I rob? I a thief? Not I, by my faith. - -FALSTAFF. -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. - -FALSTAFF. -Why, that’s well said. - -PRINCE. -Well, come what will, I’ll tarry at home. - -FALSTAFF. -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. - -FALSTAFF. -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 tomorrow. 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. -But 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 -visards 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 -turned back; and for the third, if he fight longer than he sees reason, -I’ll forswear arms. The virtue of this jest will be 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 lives -the jest. - -PRINCE. -Well, I’ll go with thee. Provide us all things necessary and meet me -tomorrow 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 be himself, -Being wanted, he may be more wonder’d 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. The Same. A Room in the Palace. - -Enter King Henry, Northumberland, Worcester, Hotspur, Sir Walter Blunt -and 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. - -WORCESTER. -Our house, my sovereign liege, little deserves -The scourge of greatness to be used on it, -And that same greatness too which our own hands -Have holp to make so portly. - -NORTHUMBERLAND. -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. -You have good leave to leave us. When we need -Your use and counsel, we shall send for you. - -[_Exit Worcester._] - -[_To Northumberland._] - -You were about to speak. - -NORTHUMBERLAND. -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 deliver’d to your Majesty. -Either envy, therefore, or misprision -Is guilty of this fault, and not my son. - -HOTSPUR. -My liege, I did deny no prisoners. -But I remember, when the fight was done, -When I was dry with rage and extreme toil, -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 smiled 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 question’d me, amongst the rest demanded -My prisoners in your Majesty’s behalf. -I then, all smarting with my wounds being cold, -Out of my grief and my impatience -To be so pester’d with a popinjay, -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 parmacety for an inward bruise, -And that it was great pity, so it was, -This villainous 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 consider’d, good my lord, -Whatever 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. - -HOTSPUR. -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 breathed, 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 -Blood-stained with these valiant combatants. -Never did bare 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 slander’d 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 not ashamed? 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’ll hear of it. - -[_Exit King Henry, Blunt and train._] - -HOTSPUR. -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 ease my heart, -Albeit I make a hazard of my head. - -NORTHUMBERLAND. -What, drunk with choler? Stay, and pause awhile. -Here comes your uncle. - -Enter Worcester. - -HOTSPUR. -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 down-trod Mortimer -As high in the air as this unthankful King, -As this ingrate and canker’d Bolingbroke. - -NORTHUMBERLAND. -[_To Worcester._] -Brother, the King hath made your nephew mad. - -WORCESTER. -Who struck this heat up after I was gone? - -HOTSPUR. -He will forsooth have all my prisoners, -And when I urged the ransom once again -Of my wife’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. - -WORCESTER. -I cannot blame him. Was not he proclaim’d -By Richard that dead is, the next of blood? - -NORTHUMBERLAND. -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 deposed, and shortly murdered. - -WORCESTER. -And for whose death we in the world’s wide mouth -Live scandalized and foully spoken of. - -HOTSPUR. -But soft, I pray you, did King Richard then -Proclaim my brother Edmund Mortimer -Heir to the crown? - -NORTHUMBERLAND. -He did; myself did hear it. - -HOTSPUR. -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 murderous 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 subtle 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— - -WORCESTER. -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’er-walk a current roaring loud -On the unsteadfast footing of a spear. - -HOTSPUR. -If we 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! - -NORTHUMBERLAND. -Imagination of some great exploit -Drives him beyond the bounds of patience. - -HOTSPUR. -By Heaven, methinks it were an easy leap -To pluck bright honour from the pale-faced moon, -Or dive into the bottom of the deep, -Where fathom-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-faced fellowship! - -WORCESTER. -He apprehends a world of figures here, -But not the form of what he should attend.— -Good cousin, give me audience for a while. - -HOTSPUR. -I cry you mercy. - -WORCESTER. -Those same noble Scots -That are your prisoners— - -HOTSPUR. -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! - -WORCESTER. -You start away, -And lend no ear unto my purposes: -Those prisoners you shall keep— - -HOTSPUR. -Nay, I will: that’s 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 holla “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. - -WORCESTER. -Hear you, cousin, a word. - -HOTSPUR. -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 poison’d with a pot of ale. - -WORCESTER. -Farewell, kinsman. I will talk to you -When you are better temper’d to attend. - -NORTHUMBERLAND. -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! - -HOTSPUR. -Why, look you, I am whipp’d and scourged 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’t! It is in Gloucestershire. -’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, -’Sblood, when you and he came back from Ravenspurgh. - -NORTHUMBERLAND. -At Berkeley castle. - -HOTSPUR. -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. I have done. - -WORCESTER. -Nay, if you have not, to it again, -We will stay your leisure. - -HOTSPUR. -I have done, i’faith. - -WORCESTER. -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 assured -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 beloved, -The Archbishop. - -HOTSPUR. -Of York, is it not? - -WORCESTER. -True, who bears hard -His brother’s death at Bristol, 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. - -HOTSPUR. -I smell it. Upon my life it will do well. - -NORTHUMBERLAND. -Before the game is afoot thou still let’st slip. - -HOTSPUR. -Why, it cannot choose but be a noble plot; -And then the power of Scotland and of York -To join with Mortimer, ha? - -WORCESTER. -And so they shall. - -HOTSPUR. -In faith, it is exceedingly well aim’d. - -WORCESTER. -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. - -HOTSPUR. -He does, he does, we’ll be revenged on him. - -WORCESTER. -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 powers 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. - -NORTHUMBERLAND. -Farewell, good brother; we shall thrive, I trust. - -HOTSPUR. -Uncle, adieu. O, let the hours be short, -Till fields and blows and groans applaud our sport! - -[_Exeunt._] - - - - -ACT II - - -SCENE I. Rochester. An Inn-Yard. - -Enter a Carrier with a lantern in his hand. - -FIRST CARRIER. -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! - -OSTLER. -[_within._] Anon, anon. - -FIRST CARRIER. -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. - -SECOND CARRIER. -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. - -FIRST CARRIER. -Poor fellow never joyed since the price of oats rose, it was the death -of him. - -SECOND CARRIER. -I think this be the most villainous house in all London road for fleas. -I am stung like a tench. - -FIRST CARRIER. -Like a tench! By the Mass, there is ne’er a king christen could be -better bit than I have been since the first cock. - -SECOND CARRIER. -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. - -FIRST CARRIER. -What, ostler! Come away and be hanged, come away. - -SECOND CARRIER. -I have a gammon of bacon and two razes of ginger, to be delivered as -far as Charing Cross. - -FIRST CARRIER. -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 hanged. Hast no faith in thee? - -Enter Gadshill. - -GADSHILL. -Good morrow, carriers. What’s o’clock? - -FIRST CARRIER. -I think it be two o’clock. - -GADSHILL. -I prithee, lend me thy lantern, to see my gelding in the stable. - -FIRST CARRIER. -Nay, by God, soft! I know a trick worth two of that, i’faith. - -GADSHILL. -I pray thee, lend me thine. - -SECOND CARRIER. -Ay, when? Canst tell? “Lend me thy lantern,” quoth he! Marry, I’ll see -thee hanged first. - -GADSHILL. -Sirrah carrier, what time do you mean to come to London? - -SECOND CARRIER. -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._] - -GADSHILL. -What, ho! Chamberlain! - -Enter Chamberlain. - -CHAMBERLAIN. -At hand, quoth pick-purse. - -GADSHILL. -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. - -CHAMBERLAIN. -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. - -GADSHILL. -Sirrah, if they meet not with Saint Nicholas’ clerks, I’ll give thee -this neck. - -CHAMBERLAIN. -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. - -GADSHILL. -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 looked 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 malt-worms, 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. - -CHAMBERLAIN. -What, the commonwealth their boots? Will she hold out water in foul -way? - -GADSHILL. -She will, she will; justice hath liquored her. We steal as in a castle, -cock-sure; we have the receipt of fern-seed, we walk invisible. - -CHAMBERLAIN. -Nay, by my faith, I think you are more beholding to the night than to -fern-seed for your walking invisible. - -GADSHILL. -Give me thy hand. Thou shalt have a share in our purchase, as I am a -true man. - -CHAMBERLAIN. -Nay, rather let me have it, as you are a false thief. - -GADSHILL. -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 Road by Gads-hill. - -Enter Prince Henry and Poins; Bardolph and Peto at some distance. - -POINS. -Come, shelter, shelter! I have removed Falstaff’s horse, and he frets -like a gummed velvet. - -PRINCE. -Stand close. - -[_They retire._] - -Enter Falstaff. - -FALSTAFF. -Poins! Poins, and be hanged! Poins! - -PRINCE. -[_Coming forward._] -Peace, ye fat-kidneyed rascal! What a brawling dost thou keep! - -FALSTAFF. -Where’s Poins, Hal? - -PRINCE. -He is walked up to the top of the hill. I’ll go seek him. - -[_Retires._] - -FALSTAFF. -I am accursed 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 square 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 bewitched with the rogue’s company. If the rascal -have not given me medicines to make me love him, I’ll be hanged. 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 hanged! - -PRINCE. -[_Coming forward._] Peace, you fat guts, lie down, lay thine ear close -to the ground, and list if thou canst hear the tread of travellers. - -FALSTAFF. -Have you any levers to lift me up again, being down? ’Sblood, I’ll not -bear my 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. - -FALSTAFF. -I prithee, good Prince Hal, help me to my horse, good king’s son. - -PRINCE. -Out, ye rogue! Shall I be your ostler? - -FALSTAFF. -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. - -GADSHILL. -Stand! - -FALSTAFF. -So I do, against my will. - -POINS. -O, ’tis our setter. I know his voice. - -Comes forward with Bardolph and Peto. - -BARDOLPH. -What news? - -GADSHILL. -Case ye, case ye, on with your visards. There’s money of the King’s -coming down the hill, ’tis going to the King’s exchequer. - -FALSTAFF. -You lie, ye rogue, ’tis going to the King’s tavern. - -GADSHILL. -There’s enough to make us all. - -FALSTAFF. -To be hanged. - -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? - -GADSHILL. -Some eight or ten. - -FALSTAFF. -Zounds, will they not rob us? - -PRINCE. -What, a coward, Sir John Paunch? - -FALSTAFF. -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. - -FALSTAFF. -Now cannot I strike him, if I should be hanged. - -PRINCE. -[_aside to Poins._] Ned, where are our disguises? - -POINS. -[_aside to Prince Henry._] Here, hard by. Stand close. - -[_Exeunt Prince and Poins._] - -FALSTAFF. -Now, my masters, happy man be his dole, say I. Every man to his -business. - -Enter the Travellers. - -FIRST TRAVELLER. -Come, neighbour, the boy shall lead our horses down the hill; we’ll -walk afoot awhile and ease our legs. - -THIEVES. -Stand! - -SECOND TRAVELLER. -Jesu bless us! - -FALSTAFF. -Strike, down with them, cut the villains’ throats! Ah, whoreson -caterpillars, bacon-fed knaves, they hate us youth. Down with them, -fleece them! - -FIRST TRAVELLER. -O, we are undone, both we and ours for ever! - -FALSTAFF. -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 them and bind them. Exeunt_] - -Enter Prince Henry 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 retire._] - -Enter the Thieves again. - -FALSTAFF. -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._] - -PRINCE. -Your money! - -POINS. -Villains! - -[_Falstaff after a blow or two, and the others run away, leaving the -booty behind them._] - -PRINCE. -Got with much ease. Now merrily to horse. -The thieves are all scatter’d, 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 fat rogue roared! - -[_Exeunt._] - -SCENE III. Warkworth. A Room in the Castle. - -Enter Hotspur, reading a letter. - -HOTSPUR. -“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 tonight.— - -Enter Lady Percy. - -How now, Kate! I must leave you within these two hours. - -LADY PERCY. -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-eyed musing and curst 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, tents, -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 in 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. - -HOTSPUR. -What, ho! - -Enter a Servant. - -Is Gilliams with the packet gone? - -SERVANT. -He is, my lord, an hour ago. - -HOTSPUR. -Hath Butler brought those horses from the sheriff? - -SERVANT. -One horse, my lord, he brought even now. - -HOTSPUR. -What horse? A roan, a crop-ear, is it not? - -SERVANT. -It is, my lord. - -HOTSPUR. -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 PERCY. -But hear you, my lord. - -HOTSPUR. -What say’st thou, my lady? - -LADY PERCY. -What is it carries you away? - -HOTSPUR. -Why, my horse, my love, my horse. - -LADY PERCY. -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— - -HOTSPUR. -So far afoot, I shall be weary, love. - -LADY PERCY. -Come, come, you paraquito, answer me -Directly unto this question that I ask. -In faith, I’ll break thy little finger, Harry, -If thou wilt not tell me all things true. - -HOTSPUR. -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 PERCY. -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. - -HOTSPUR. -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 PERCY. -How? So far? - -HOTSPUR. -Not an inch further. But hark you, Kate, -Whither I go, thither shall you go too. -Today will I set forth, tomorrow you. -Will this content you, Kate? - -LADY PERCY. -It must, of force. - -[_Exeunt._] - -SCENE IV. Eastcheap. A Room in the Boar’s Head Tavern. - -Enter Prince Henry. - -PRINCE. -Ned, prithee, come out of that fat room, and lend me thy hand to laugh -a little. - -Enter Poins. - -POINS. -Where hast been, Hal? - -PRINCE. -With three or four loggerheads amongst three or fourscore hogsheads. I -have sounded the very base-string of humility. Sirrah, I am sworn -brother to a leash of drawers, and can call them all by their Christian -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 in -Eastcheap. They call drinking deep, “dyeing 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, clapped even now into my hand by an -underskinker, 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 he 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. - -[_Exit Poins._] - -POINS. -[_Within_] Francis! - -PRINCE. -Thou art perfect. - -POINS. -[_Within_] Francis! - -Enter Francis. - -FRANCIS. -Anon, anon, sir.—Look down into the Pomegarnet, Ralph. - -PRINCE. -Come hither, Francis. - -FRANCIS. -My lord? - -PRINCE. -How long hast thou to serve, Francis? - -FRANCIS. -Forsooth, five years, and as much as to— - -POINS. -[_within._] Francis! - -FRANCIS. -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? - -FRANCIS. -O Lord, sir, I’ll be sworn upon all the books in England, I could find -in my heart— - -POINS. -[_within._] Francis! - -FRANCIS. -Anon, sir. - -PRINCE. -How old art thou, Francis? - -FRANCIS. -Let me see, about Michaelmas next I shall be— - -POINS. -[_within._] Francis! - -FRANCIS. -Anon, sir.—Pray, stay a little, my lord. - -PRINCE. -Nay, but hark you, Francis, for the sugar thou gavest me, ’twas a -pennyworth, was’t not? - -FRANCIS. -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! - -FRANCIS. -Anon, anon. - -PRINCE. -Anon, Francis? No, Francis, but tomorrow, Francis; or, Francis, a -Thursday; or indeed, Francis, when thou wilt. But, Francis,— - -FRANCIS. -My lord? - -PRINCE. -Wilt thou rob this leathern-jerkin, crystal-button, not-pated, -agate-ring, puke-stocking, caddis-garter, smooth-tongue, Spanish-pouch— - -FRANCIS. -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. - -FRANCIS. -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. - -VINTNER. -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! - -Enter Poins. - -POINS. -Anon, anon, sir. - -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 twelve -o’clock at midnight. - -Enter Francis. - -What’s o’clock, Francis? - -FRANCIS. -Anon, anon, sir. - -[_Exit Francis._] - -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 killed today?” “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 damned brawn shall -play Dame Mortimer his wife. _Rivo!_ says the drunkard. Call in Ribs, -call in Tallow. - -Enter Falstaff, Gadshill, Bardolph and Peto; followed by Francis with -wine. - -POINS. -Welcome, Jack. Where hast thou been? - -FALSTAFF. -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? - -[_Drinks._] - -PRINCE. -Didst thou never see Titan kiss a dish of butter (pitiful-hearted -Titan!), that melted at the sweet tale of the sun’s? If thou didst, -then behold that compound. - -FALSTAFF. -You rogue, here’s lime in this sack too: there is nothing but roguery -to be found in villainous 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 -unhanged 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, wool-sack, what mutter you? - -FALSTAFF. -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? - -FALSTAFF. -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. - -FALSTAFF. -I call thee coward? I’ll see thee damned 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 -today. - -PRINCE. -O villain! Thy lips are scarce wiped since thou drunk’st last. - -FALSTAFF. -All is one for that. A plague of all cowards, still say I. - -[_Drinks._] - -PRINCE. -What’s the matter? - -FALSTAFF. -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? - -FALSTAFF. -Where is it? Taken from us it is: a hundred upon poor four of us. - -PRINCE. -What, a hundred, man? - -FALSTAFF. -I am a rogue if I were not at half-sword with a dozen of them two hours -together. I have ’scaped by miracle. I am eight times thrust through -the doublet, four through the hose, my buckler cut through and through, -my sword hacked 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? - -GADSHILL. -We four set upon some dozen. - -FALSTAFF. -Sixteen at least, my lord. - -GADSHILL. -And bound them. - -PETO. -No, no, they were not bound. - -FALSTAFF. -You rogue, they were bound, every man of them, or I am a Jew else, an -Ebrew Jew. - -GADSHILL. -As we were sharing, some six or seven fresh men set upon us. - -FALSTAFF. -And unbound the rest, and then come in the other. - -PRINCE. -What, fought you with them all? - -FALSTAFF. -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-legged creature. - -PRINCE. -Pray God you have not murdered some of them. - -FALSTAFF. -Nay, that’s past praying for. I have peppered 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. - -FALSTAFF. -Four, Hal, I told thee four. - -POINS. -Ay, ay, he said four. - -FALSTAFF. -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. - -FALSTAFF. -In buckram? - -POINS. -Ay, four, in buckram suits. - -FALSTAFF. -Seven, by these hilts, or I am a villain else. - -PRINCE. -[_aside to Poins._] Prithee let him alone, we shall have more anon. - -FALSTAFF. -Dost thou hear me, Hal? - -PRINCE. -Ay, and mark thee too, Jack. - -FALSTAFF. -Do so, for it is worth the listening to. These nine in buckram that I -told thee of— - -PRINCE. -So, two more already. - -FALSTAFF. -Their points being broken— - -POINS. -Down fell their hose. - -FALSTAFF. -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! - -FALSTAFF. -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 the father that begets them, gross as a mountain, -open, palpable. Why, thou clay-brained guts, thou knotty-pated fool, -thou whoreson, obscene greasy tallow-catch— - -FALSTAFF. -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. - -FALSTAFF. -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 horse-back-breaker, this huge hill of flesh— - -FALSTAFF. -’Sblood, you starveling, you eel-skin, you dried neat’s-tongue, you -bull’s pizzle, you stock-fish—O, for breath to utter what is like thee! -You tailor’s-yard, you sheath, you bow-case, 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, outfaced 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 -roared for mercy, and still ran and roared, as ever I heard bull-calf. -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? - -FALSTAFF. -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 tonight, pray tomorrow. -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. - -FALSTAFF. -Ah, no more of that, Hal, an thou lovest me! - -Enter the Hostess. - -HOSTESS. -O Jesu, my lord the Prince— - -PRINCE. -How now, my lady the hostess! What say’st thou to me? - -HOSTESS. -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. - -FALSTAFF. -What manner of man is he? - -HOSTESS. -An old man. - -FALSTAFF. -What doth gravity out of his bed at midnight? Shall I give him his -answer? - -PRINCE. -Prithee do, Jack. - -FALSTAFF. -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! - -BARDOLPH. -Faith, I ran when I saw others run. - -PRINCE. -Faith, tell me now in earnest, how came Falstaff’s sword so hacked? - -PETO. -Why, he hacked 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. - -BARDOLPH. -Yea, and to tickle our noses with spear-grass 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 blushed 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 blushed extempore. Thou -hadst fire and sword on thy side, and yet thou ran’st away. What -instinct hadst thou for it? - -BARDOLPH. -My lord, do you see these meteors? Do you behold these exhalations? - -PRINCE. -I do. - -BARDOLPH. -What think you they portend? - -PRINCE. -Hot livers and cold purses. - -BARDOLPH. -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? - -FALSTAFF. -My own knee? When I was about thy years, Hal, I was not an eagle’s -talon 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. - -FALSTAFF. -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. - -FALSTAFF. -You have hit it. - -PRINCE. -So did he never the sparrow. - -FALSTAFF. -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! - -FALSTAFF. -A-horseback, ye cuckoo, but afoot he will not budge a foot. - -PRINCE. -Yes, Jack, upon instinct. - -FALSTAFF. -I grant ye, upon instinct. Well, he is there too, and one Mordake, and -a thousand blue-caps more. Worcester is stolen away tonight; thy -father’s beard is turned white with the news. You may buy land now as -cheap as stinking mackerel. - -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. - -FALSTAFF. -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. - -FALSTAFF. -Well, thou wilt be horribly chid tomorrow 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. - -FALSTAFF. -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 joint-stool, thy golden sceptre for a leaden -dagger, and thy precious rich crown for a pitiful bald crown. - -FALSTAFF. -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. - -FALSTAFF. -And here is my speech. Stand aside, nobility. - -HOSTESS. -O Jesu, this is excellent sport, i faith! - -FALSTAFF. -Weep not, sweet Queen, for trickling tears are vain. - -HOSTESS. -O, the Father, how he holds his countenance! - -FALSTAFF. -For God’s sake, lords, convey my tristful Queen, -For tears do stop the floodgates of her eyes. - -HOSTESS. -O Jesu, he doth it as like one of these harlotry players as ever I see! - -FALSTAFF. -Peace, good pint-pot; 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 villainous 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 asked. Shall the son of England prove a thief, and take -purses? A question to be asked. 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? - -FALSTAFF. -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. - -FALSTAFF. -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. - -FALSTAFF. -And here I stand. Judge, my masters. - -PRINCE. -Now, Harry, whence come you? - -FALSTAFF. -My noble lord, from Eastcheap. - -PRINCE. -The complaints I hear of thee are grievous. - -FALSTAFF. -’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 swollen parcel of dropsies, that huge bombard of -sack, that stuffed cloak-bag 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 villainous, but in all things? Wherein worthy, but in nothing? - -FALSTAFF. -I would your Grace would take me with you. Whom means your Grace? - -PRINCE. -That villainous abominable misleader of youth, Falstaff, that old -white-bearded Satan. - -FALSTAFF. -My lord, the man I know. - -PRINCE. -I know thou dost. - -FALSTAFF. -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 damned. -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. - -BARDOLPH. -O, my lord, my lord, the sheriff with a most monstrous watch is at the -door. - -FALSTAFF. -Out, ye rogue! Play out the play. I have much to say in the behalf of -that Falstaff. - -Enter the Hostess, hastily. - -HOSTESS. -O Jesu, my lord, my lord— - -PRINCE. -Heigh, heigh, the devil rides upon a fiddlestick. What’s the matter? - -HOSTESS. -The sheriff and all the watch are at the door. They are come to search -the house. Shall I let them in? - -FALSTAFF. -Dost thou hear, Hal? Never call a true piece of gold a counterfeit: -thou art essentially made without seeming so. - -PRINCE. -And thou a natural coward without instinct. - -FALSTAFF. -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. - -FALSTAFF. -Both which I have had, but their date is out, and therefore I’ll hide -me. - -PRINCE. -Call in the sheriff. - -[_Exeunt all but the Prince and Peto._] - -Enter Sheriff and the Carrier. - -Now, master sheriff, what is your will with me? - -SHERIFF. -First, pardon me, my lord. A hue and cry -Hath followed certain men unto this house. - -PRINCE. -What men? - -SHERIFF. -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 tomorrow dinner-time, -Send him to answer thee, or any man, -For anything he shall be charged withal. -And so let me entreat you leave the house. - -SHERIFF. -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. - -SHERIFF. -Good night, my noble lord. - -PRINCE. -I think it is good morrow, is it not? - -SHERIFF. -Indeed, my lord, I think it be two o’clock. - -[_Exit Sheriff with the 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 pocket, and findeth certain papers._] - -What hast thou found? - -PETO. -Nothing but papers, my lord. - -PRINCE. -Let’s see what they be. Read them. - -PETO. -[_reads_] -Item, a capon, . . . . . . . . . . . 2s. 2d. -Item, sauce, . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4d. -Item, sack, two gallons, . . . 5s. 8d. -Item, anchovies and sack after supper, 2s. 6d. -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._] - - - - -ACT III - - -SCENE I. Bangor. A Room in the Archdeacon’s House. - -Enter Hotspur, Worcester, Mortimer and Glendower. - -MORTIMER. -These promises are fair, the parties sure, -And our induction full of prosperous hope. - -HOTSPUR. -Lord Mortimer and cousin Glendower, -Will you sit down? And uncle Worcester, -A plague upon it! I have forgot the map. - -GLENDOWER. -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. - -HOTSPUR. -And you in hell, -As oft as he hears Owen Glendower spoke of. - -GLENDOWER. -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 -Shaked like a coward. - -HOTSPUR. -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. - -GLENDOWER. -I say the Earth did shake when I was born. - -HOTSPUR. -And I say the Earth was not of my mind, -If you suppose as fearing you it shook. - -GLENDOWER. -The heavens were all on fire, the Earth did tremble. - -HOTSPUR. -O, then th’ 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 beldam Earth, and topples down -Steeples and moss-grown towers. At your birth -Our grandam Earth, having this distemp’rature, -In passion shook. - -GLENDOWER. -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. - -HOTSPUR. -I think there is no man speaks better Welsh. -I’ll to dinner. - -MORTIMER. -Peace, cousin Percy, you will make him mad. - -GLENDOWER. -I can call spirits from the vasty deep. - -HOTSPUR. -Why, so can I, or so can any man, -But will they come when you do call for them? - -GLENDOWER. -Why, I can teach you, cousin, to command the devil. - -HOTSPUR. -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! - -MORTIMER. -Come, come, no more of this unprofitable chat. - -GLENDOWER. -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. - -HOTSPUR. -Home without boots, and in foul weather too! -How ’scapes he agues, in the devil’s name! - -GLENDOWER. -Come, here’s the map, shall we divide our right -According to our threefold order ta’en? - -MORTIMER. -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, -Tomorrow, cousin Percy, you and I, -And my good Lord of Worcester will set forth -To meet your father and the Scottish power, -As is appointed us, at Shrewsbury. -My father Glendower is not ready yet, -Nor shall we need his help these fourteen days. -[_To Glendower._] Within that space you may have drawn together -Your tenants, friends, and neighbouring gentlemen. - -GLENDOWER. -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. - -HOTSPUR. -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 in this place dammed up, -And here the smug and silver 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. - -GLENDOWER. -Not wind? It shall, it must. You see it doth. - -MORTIMER. -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. - -WORCESTER. -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. - -HOTSPUR. -I’ll have it so, a little charge will do it. - -GLENDOWER. -I’ll not have it altered. - -HOTSPUR. -Will not you? - -GLENDOWER. -No, nor you shall not. - -HOTSPUR. -Who shall say me nay? - -GLENDOWER. -Why, that will I. - -HOTSPUR. -Let me not understand you, then; speak it in Welsh. - -GLENDOWER. -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. - -HOTSPUR. -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 ballad-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 forced gait of a shuffling nag. - -GLENDOWER. -Come, you shall have Trent turn’d. - -HOTSPUR. -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? - -GLENDOWER. -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._] - -MORTIMER. -Fie, cousin Percy, how you cross my father! - -HOTSPUR. -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. - -MORTIMER. -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. - -WORCESTER. -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. - -HOTSPUR. -Well, I am school’d. Good manners be your speed! -Here come our wives, and let us take our leave. - -Enter Glendower with Lady Mortimer and Lady Percy. - -MORTIMER. -This is the deadly spite that angers me, -My wife can speak no English, I no Welsh. - -GLENDOWER. -My daughter weeps, she’ll not part with you, -She’ll be a soldier too, she’ll to the wars. - -MORTIMER. -Good father, tell her that she and my aunt Percy -Shall follow in your conduct speedily. - -[_Glendower speaks to Lady Mortimer in Welsh, and she answers him in -the same._] - -GLENDOWER. -She is desperate here, a peevish self-willed harlotry, -One that no persuasion can do good upon. - -[_Lady Mortimer speaks to Mortimer in Welsh._] - -MORTIMER. -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 parley should I answer thee. - -[_Lady Mortimer speaks to him 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 bower, -With ravishing division, to her lute. - -GLENDOWER. -Nay, if you melt, then will she run mad. - -[_Lady Mortimer speaks to Mortimer again in Welsh._] - -MORTIMER. -O, I am ignorance itself in this! - -GLENDOWER. -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. - -MORTIMER. -With all my heart I’ll sit and hear her sing, -By that time will our book, I think, be drawn. - -GLENDOWER. -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. - -HOTSPUR. -Come, Kate, thou art perfect in lying down. -Come, quick, quick, that I may lay my head in thy lap. - -LADY PERCY. -Go, ye giddy goose. - -[_The music plays._] - -HOTSPUR. -Now I perceive the devil understands Welsh, -And ’tis no marvel he’s so humorous. -By’r Lady, he’s a good musician. - -LADY PERCY. -Then should you be nothing but musical, -For you are altogether governed by humours. -Lie still, ye thief, and hear the lady sing in Welsh. - -HOTSPUR. -I had rather hear Lady, my brach, howl in Irish. - -LADY PERCY. -Wouldst thou have thy head broken? - -HOTSPUR. -No. - -LADY PERCY. -Then be still. - -HOTSPUR. -Neither; ’tis a woman’s fault. - -LADY PERCY. -Now God help thee! - -HOTSPUR. -To the Welsh lady’s bed. - -LADY PERCY. -What’s that? - -HOTSPUR. -Peace, she sings. - -[_Here the lady sings a Welsh song._] - -Come, Kate, I’ll have your song too. - -LADY PERCY. -Not mine, in good sooth. - -HOTSPUR. -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 never walk’dst 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 PERCY. -I will not sing. - -HOTSPUR. -’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._] - -GLENDOWER. -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. - -MORTIMER. -With all my heart. - -[_Exeunt._] - -SCENE II. London. A Room in the Palace. - -Enter King Henry, Prince Henry and Lords. - -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 devised, -By smiling pickthanks and base newsmongers, -Which oft the ear of greatness needs must hear, -I may for some things true, wherein my youth -Hath faulty wander’d and irregular, -Find pardon on my 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 wonder’d 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 wonder’d at, and so my state, -Seldom but sumptuous, showed 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 daily swallow’d 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 sun-like majesty -When it shines seldom in admiring eyes, -But rather drowsed and hung their eyelids down, -Slept in his face, and render’d such aspect -As cloudy men use to their adversaries, -Being with his presence glutted, gorged, 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 a-weary of thy common sight, -Save mine, which hath desired 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 renowned 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 swathing 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 him 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 pleased 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 Sir Walter 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 on every hand, -As ever offer’d foul play in a state. - -KING. -The Earl of Westmoreland set forth today, -With him my son, Lord John of Lancaster, -For this advertisement is five days old. -On Wednesday next you, Harry, shall set forward, -On Thursday we ourselves will march. -Our meeting is Bridgenorth. And, Harry, you -Shall march through Gloustershire; 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. A Room in the Boar’s Head Tavern. - -Enter Falstaff and Bardolph. - -FALSTAFF. -Bardolph, am I not fallen 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, villainous company, -hath been the spoil of me. - -BARDOLPH. -Sir John, you are so fretful, you cannot live long. - -FALSTAFF. -Why, there is it. Come, sing me a song, make me merry. I was as -virtuously given as a gentleman need to be, virtuous enough; swore -little; diced not above seven times—a week; went to a bawdy house not -above once in a quarter—in 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. - -BARDOLPH. -Why, you are so fat, Sir John, that you must needs be out of all -compass, out of all reasonable compass, Sir John. - -FALSTAFF. -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. - -BARDOLPH. -Why, Sir John, my face does you no harm. - -FALSTAFF. -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 -hell-fire, 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 -Gad’s Hill 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! - -BARDOLPH. -’Sblood, I would my face were in your belly! - -FALSTAFF. -God-a-mercy! so should I be sure to be heartburnt. - -Enter the Hostess. - -How now, Dame Partlet the hen, have you enquired yet who picked my -pocket? - -HOSTESS. -Why, Sir John, what do you think, Sir John, do you think I keep thieves -in my house? I have searched, 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. - -FALSTAFF. -Ye lie, hostess. Bardolph was shaved and lost many a hair, and I’ll be -sworn my pocket was picked. Go to, you are a woman, go. - -HOSTESS. -Who, I? No; I defy thee: God’s light, I was never called so in mine own -house before. - -FALSTAFF. -Go to, I know you well enough. - -HOSTESS. -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. - -FALSTAFF. -Dowlas, filthy dowlas. I have given them away to bakers’ wives; and -they have made bolters of them. - -HOSTESS. -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. - -FALSTAFF. -He had his part of it, let him pay. - -HOSTESS. -He? Alas, he is poor, he hath nothing. - -FALSTAFF. -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 picked? I have lost a seal-ring of my -grandfather’s worth forty mark. - -HOSTESS. -O Jesu, I have heard the Prince tell him, I know not how oft, that that -ring was copper. - -FALSTAFF. -How? The Prince is a Jack, a sneak-up. ’Sblood, an he were here, I -would cudgel him like a dog if he would say so. - -Enter Prince Henry with Peto, marching. Falstaff meets him, playing on -his truncheon like a fife. - -How now, lad? Is the wind in that door, i’faith? Must we all march? - -BARDOLPH. -Yea, two and two, Newgate fashion. - -HOSTESS. -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. - -HOSTESS. -Good my lord, hear me. - -FALSTAFF. -Prithee, let her alone, and list to me. - -PRINCE. -What say’st thou, Jack? - -FALSTAFF. -The other night I fell asleep here, behind the arras, and had my pocket -picked. This house is turned bawdy-house; they pick pockets. - -PRINCE. -What didst thou lose, Jack? - -FALSTAFF. -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. - -HOSTESS. -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-mouthed man as he is, -and said he would cudgel you. - -PRINCE. -What! he did not? - -HOSTESS. -There’s neither faith, truth, nor womanhood in me else. - -FALSTAFF. -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. - -HOSTESS. -Say, what thing, what thing? - -FALSTAFF. -What thing? Why, a thing to thank God on. - -HOSTESS. -I am no thing to thank God on, I would thou shouldst know it! I am an -honest man’s wife, and, setting thy knighthood aside, thou art a knave -to call me so. - -FALSTAFF. -Setting thy womanhood aside, thou art a beast to say otherwise. - -HOSTESS. -Say, what beast, thou knave, thou? - -FALSTAFF. -What beast? Why, an otter. - -PRINCE. -An otter, Sir John? Why an otter? - -FALSTAFF. -Why, she’s neither fish nor flesh; a man knows not where to have her. - -HOSTESS. -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. - -HOSTESS. -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? - -FALSTAFF. - - -A thousand pound, Hal? A million. Thy love is worth a million; thou -owest me thy love. - -HOSTESS. -Nay, my lord, he call’d you Jack, and said he would cudgel you. - -FALSTAFF. -Did I, Bardolph? - -BARDOLPH. -Indeed, Sir John, you said so. - -FALSTAFF. -Yea, if he said my ring was copper. - -PRINCE. -I say ’tis copper. Darest thou be as good as thy word now? - -FALSTAFF. -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? - -FALSTAFF. -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 filled up with midriff. Charge an honest woman with picking -thy pocket! Why, thou whoreson, impudent, embossed 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 enriched 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! - -FALSTAFF. -Dost thou hear, Hal? Thou knowest in the state of innocency Adam fell, -and what should poor Jack Falstaff do in the days of villainy? Thou -seest I have more flesh than another man and therefore more frailty. -You confess, then, you picked my pocket? - -PRINCE. -It appears so by the story. - -FALSTAFF. -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. - -FALSTAFF. -O, I do not like that paying back, ’tis a double labour. - -PRINCE. -I am good friends with my father, and may do anything. - -FALSTAFF. -Rob me the exchequer the first thing thou dost, and do it with unwashed -hands too. - -BARDOLPH. -Do, my lord. - -PRINCE. -I have procured thee, Jack, a charge of foot. - -FALSTAFF. -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! - -BARDOLPH. -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, Peto, to horse, to horse, for thou and I -Have thirty miles to ride yet ere dinner-time. - -[_Exit Peto._] - -Jack, meet me tomorrow 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 we or they must lower lie. - -[_Exit._] - -FALSTAFF. -Rare words! Brave world!—Hostess, my breakfast, come.— -O, I could wish this tavern were my drum. - -[_Exit._] - - - - -ACT IV - - -SCENE I. The Rebel Camp near Shrewsbury. - -Enter Hotspur, Worcester and Douglas. - -HOTSPUR. -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 do 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. - -DOUGLAS. -Thou art the king of honour. -No man so potent breathes upon the ground -But I will beard him. - -HOTSPUR. -Do so, and ’tis well. - -Enter a Messenger with letters. - -What letters hast thou there? I can but thank you. - -MESSENGER. -These letters come from your father. - -HOTSPUR. -Letters from him! Why comes he not himself? - -MESSENGER. -He cannot come, my lord, he is grievous sick. - -HOTSPUR. -Zounds, how has he the leisure to be sick -In such a justling time? Who leads his power? -Under whose government come they along? - -MESSENGER. -His letters bear his mind, not I, my lord. - -WORCESTER. -I prithee, tell me, doth he keep his bed? - -MESSENGER. -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. - -WORCESTER. -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. - -HOTSPUR. -Sick now? Droop now? This sickness doth infect -The very life-blood 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, nor did he think it meet -To lay so dangerous and dear a trust -On any soul removed but on his own. -Yet doth he give us bold advertisement -That with our small conjunction we should on, -To see how fortune is disposed 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? - -WORCESTER. -Your father’s sickness is a maim to us. - -HOTSPUR. -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 main -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. - -DOUGLAS. -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. - -HOTSPUR. -A rendezvous, a home to fly unto, -If that the devil and mischance look big -Upon the maidenhead of our affairs. - -WORCESTER. -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. - -HOTSPUR. -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 the kingdom, with his help -We shall o’erturn it topsy-turvy down. -Yet all goes well, yet all our joints are whole. - -DOUGLAS. -As heart can think. There is not such a word -Spoke in Scotland as this term of fear. - -Enter Sir Richard Vernon. - -HOTSPUR. -My cousin Vernon! Welcome, by my soul. - -VERNON. -Pray God my news be worth a welcome, lord. -The Earl of Westmoreland, seven thousand strong, -Is marching hitherwards, with him Prince John. - -HOTSPUR. -No harm, what more? - -VERNON. -And further, I have learn’d -The King himself in person is set forth, -Or hitherwards intended speedily, -With strong and mighty preparation. - -HOTSPUR. -He shall be welcome too. Where is his son, -The nimble-footed madcap Prince of Wales, -And his comrades, that daffed the world aside -And bid it pass? - -VERNON. -All furnish’d, all in arms; -All plumed like estridges that with the wind -Bated like eagles having lately bathed, -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 cuisses on his thighs, gallantly arm’d, -Rise from the ground like feather’d 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. - -HOTSPUR. -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-eyed 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. -O, that Glendower were come! - -VERNON. -There is more news. -I learn’d in Worcester, as I rode along, -He cannot draw his power this fourteen days. - -DOUGLAS. -That’s the worst tidings that I hear of yet. - -WORCESTER. -Ay, by my faith, that bears a frosty sound. - -HOTSPUR. -What may the King’s whole battle reach unto? - -VERNON. -To thirty thousand. - -HOTSPUR. -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. - -DOUGLAS. -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. - -FALSTAFF. -Bardolph, get thee before to Coventry; fill me a bottle of sack. Our -soldiers shall march through; we’ll to Sutton Co’fil’ tonight. - -BARDOLPH. -Will you give me money, captain? - -FALSTAFF. -Lay out, lay out. - -BARDOLPH. -This bottle makes an angel. - -FALSTAFF. -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. - -BARDOLPH. -I will, captain: farewell. - -[_Exit._] - -FALSTAFF. -If I be not ashamed of my soldiers, I am a soused 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 asked twice on the banns, such a commodity of warm -slaves as had as lief 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 pressed 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 servingmen, younger sons to younger -brothers, revolted tapsters, and ostlers trade-fallen; the cankers of a -calm world and a long peace, ten times more dishonourable-ragged than -an old fazed 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 pressed 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 not a shirt and a half in all my company, and the half shirt is -two napkins tacked together and thrown over the shoulders like a -herald’s coat without sleeves; and the shirt, to say the truth, stolen -from my host at Saint Albans, or the red-nose innkeeper of Daventry. -But that’s all one; they’ll find linen enough on every hedge. - -Enter Prince Henry and the Lord of Westmoreland. - -PRINCE. -How now, blown Jack? How now, quilt? - -FALSTAFF. -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. - -WESTMORELAND. -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 night. - -FALSTAFF. -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? - -FALSTAFF. -Mine, Hal, mine. - -PRINCE. -I did never see such pitiful rascals. - -FALSTAFF. -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. - -WESTMORELAND. -Ay, but, Sir John, methinks they are exceeding poor and bare, too -beggarly. - -FALSTAFF. -Faith, for their poverty, I know not where they had that; and for their -bareness, I am sure they never learned that of me. - -PRINCE. -No, I’ll be sworn, unless you call three fingers on the ribs bare. But, -sirrah, make haste. Percy is already in the field. - -[_Exit._] - -FALSTAFF. -What, is the King encamped? - -WESTMORELAND. -He is, Sir John. I fear we shall stay too long. - -[_Exit._] - -FALSTAFF. -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 and Vernon. - -HOTSPUR. -We’ll fight with him tonight. - -WORCESTER. -It may not be. - -DOUGLAS. -You give him then advantage. - -VERNON. -Not a whit. - -HOTSPUR. -Why say you so? Looks he not for supply? - -VERNON. -So do we. - -HOTSPUR. -His is certain, ours is doubtful. - -WORCESTER. -Good cousin, be advised, stir not tonight. - -VERNON. -Do not, my lord. - -DOUGLAS. -You do not counsel well. -You speak it out of fear and cold heart. - -VERNON. -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 tomorrow in the battle -Which of us fears. - -DOUGLAS. -Yea, or tonight. - -VERNON. -Content. - -HOTSPUR. -Tonight, say I. - -VERNON. -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 today, -And now their pride and mettle is asleep, -Their courage with hard labour tame and dull, -That not a horse is half the half himself. - -HOTSPUR. -So are the horses of the enemy -In general, journey-bated and brought low. -The better part of ours are full of rest. - -WORCESTER. -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. - -HOTSPUR. -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. - -HOTSPUR. -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 innocence and terms of zeal, -My father, in kind heart and pity moved, -Swore him assistance, and performed it too. -Now, when the lords and barons of the realm -Perceived Northumberland did lean to him, -The more and less came in with cap and knee, -Met him in 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, follow’d 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. - -BLUNT. -Tut, I came not to hear this. - -HOTSPUR. -Then to the point. -In short time after, he deposed the King, -Soon after that deprived him of his life, -And, in the neck of that, task’d the whole state. -To make that worse, suffer’d his kinsman March -(Who is, if every owner were well placed, -Indeed his king) to be engaged in Wales, -There without ransom to lie forfeited; -Disgraced 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 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 now we find -Too indirect for long continuance. - -BLUNT. -Shall I return this answer to the King? - -HOTSPUR. -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 my uncle -Bring him our purposes. And so, farewell. - -BLUNT. -I would you would accept of grace and love. - -HOTSPUR. -And maybe so we shall. - -BLUNT. -Pray God you do. - -[_Exeunt._] - -SCENE IV. York. A Room in the Archbishop’s Palace. - -Enter the Archbishop of York and Sir Michael. - -ARCHBISHOP. -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 MICHAEL. -My good lord, -I guess their tenour. - -ARCHBISHOP. -Like enough you do. -Tomorrow, 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, o’er-rul’d by prophecies, -I fear the power of Percy is too weak -To wage an instant trial with the King. - -SIR MICHAEL. -Why, my good lord, you need not fear, -There is Douglas and Lord Mortimer. - -ARCHBISHOP. -No, Mortimer is not there. - -SIR MICHAEL. -But there is Mordake, Vernon, Lord Harry Percy, -And there is my Lord of Worcester, and a head -Of gallant warriors, noble gentlemen. - -ARCHBISHOP. -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 more corrivals and dear men -Of estimation and command in arms. - -SIR MICHAEL. -Doubt not, my lord, they shall be well opposed. - -ARCHBISHOP. -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._] - - - - -ACT V - - -SCENE I. The King’s Camp near Shrewsbury. - -Enter King Henry, Prince Henry, Lancaster, Sir Walter Blunt and Sir -John Falstaff. - -KING. -How bloodily the sun begins to peer -Above yon bulky 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. -Then 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 deceived 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 exhaled meteor, -A prodigy of fear, and a portent -Of broached mischief to the unborn times? - -WORCESTER. -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? - -FALSTAFF. -Rebellion lay in his way, and he found it. - -PRINCE. -Peace, chewet, peace! - -WORCESTER. -It pleased 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 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 used 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 durst not come near your sight -For fear of swallowing; but with nimble wing -We were enforced, 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 forged against yourself, -By unkind usage, dangerous countenance, -And violation of all faith and troth -Sworn to us 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 pellmell havoc and confusion. - -PRINCE. -In both your 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 then 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 the King, Blunt and Prince John._] - -FALSTAFF. -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. - -FALSTAFF. -I would ’twere bedtime, Hal, and all well. - -PRINCE. -Why, thou owest God a death. - -[_Exit._] - -FALSTAFF. -’Tis not due yet, I would be loth 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 in that word, “honour”? What is that -“honour”? Air. A trim reckoning! Who hath it? He that died o’ -Wednesday. Doth he feel it? No. Doth be hear 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 Vernon. - -WORCESTER. -O no, my nephew must not know, Sir Richard, -The liberal and kind offer of the King. - -VERNON. -’Twere best he did. - -WORCESTER. -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-brain’d 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 ta’en 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. - -VERNON. -Deliver what you will, I’ll say ’tis so. -Here comes your cousin. - -Enter Hotspur and Douglas; Officers and Soldiers behind. - -HOTSPUR. -My uncle is return’d. -Deliver up my Lord of Westmoreland. -Uncle, what news? - -WORCESTER. -The King will bid you battle presently. - -DOUGLAS. -Defy him by the Lord Of Westmoreland. - -HOTSPUR. -Lord Douglas, go you and tell him so. - -DOUGLAS. -Marry, I shall, and very willingly. - -[_Exit._] - -WORCESTER. -There is no seeming mercy in the King. - -HOTSPUR. -Did you beg any? God forbid! - -WORCESTER. -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, and will scourge -With haughty arms this hateful name in us. - -Enter Douglas. - -DOUGLAS. -Arm, gentlemen; to arms! For I have thrown -A brave defiance in King Henry’s teeth, -And Westmoreland, that was engaged, did bear it, -Which cannot choose but bring him quickly on. - -WORCESTER. -The Prince of Wales stepp’d forth before the King, -And, nephew, challenged you to single fight. - -HOTSPUR. -O, would the quarrel lay upon our heads, -And that no man might draw short breath today -But I and Harry Monmouth! Tell me, tell me, -How show’d his tasking? Seem’d it in contempt? - -VERNON. -No, by my soul. I never in my life -Did hear a challenge urged 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 he master’d 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. - -HOTSPUR. -Cousin, I think thou art enamoured -Upon his follies. Never did I hear -Of any prince so wild a liberty. -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. - -MESSENGER. -My lord, here are letters for you. - -HOTSPUR. -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. -And 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. - -MESSENGER. -My lord, prepare. The King comes on apace. - -HOTSPUR. -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. - -[_The trumpets sound. They embrace, and 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? - -DOUGLAS. -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. - -DOUGLAS. -The Lord of Stafford dear today 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, and Blunt is slain._] - -Enter Hotspur. - -HOTSPUR. -O Douglas, hadst thou fought at Holmedon thus, -I never had triumphed upon a Scot. - -DOUGLAS. -All’s done, all’s won; here breathless lies the King. - -HOTSPUR. -Where? - -DOUGLAS. -Here. - -HOTSPUR. -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. - -DOUGLAS. -A fool go with thy soul, whither it goes! -A borrow’d title hast thou bought too dear. -Why didst thou tell me that thou wert a king? - -HOTSPUR. -The King hath many marching in his coats. - -DOUGLAS. -Now, by my sword, I will kill all his coats; -I’ll murder all his wardrobe, piece by piece, -Until I meet the King. - -HOTSPUR. -Up, and away! -Our soldiers stand full fairly for the day. - -[_Exeunt._] - -Alarums. Enter Falstaff solus. - -FALSTAFF. -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 ragamuffins where they are peppered. -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 Prince Henry. - -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 unrevenged. I prithee -Lend me thy sword. - -FALSTAFF. -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. - -FALSTAFF. -Nay, before God, Hal, if Percy be alive, thou gett’st not my sword; but -take my pistol, if thou wilt. - -PRINCE. -Give it me. What, is it in the case? - -FALSTAFF. -Ay, Hal, ’tis hot, ’tis hot. There’s that will sack a city. - -[_The Prince draws out a bottle of sack._] - -PRINCE. -What, is it a time to jest and dally now? - -[_Throws it at him, and exit._] - -FALSTAFF. -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 unlooked for, and there’s -an end. - -[_Exit._] - -SCENE IV. Another Part of the Field. - -Alarums. Excursions. Enter King Henry, Prince Henry, Lancaster and -Westmoreland. - -KING. -I prithee, Harry, withdraw thyself, thou bleedest too much. -Lord John of Lancaster, go you with him. - -LANCASTER. -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. - -WESTMORELAND. -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! - -LANCASTER. -We breathe too long. Come, cousin Westmoreland, -Our duty this way lies. For God’s sake, come. - -[_Exeunt Lancaster and Westmoreland._] - -PRINCE. -By Heaven, thou hast deceived me, Lancaster, -I did not think thee lord of such a spirit. -Before, I loved 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. - -DOUGLAS. -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, and defend thyself. - -DOUGLAS. -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 Henry. - -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 flies._] - -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 hearken’d 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 saved the treacherous labour of your son. - -KING. -Make up to Clifton. I’ll to Sir Nicholas Gawsey. - -[_Exit._] - -Enter Hotspur. - -HOTSPUR. -If I mistake not, thou art Harry Monmouth. - -PRINCE. -Thou speak’st as if I would deny my name. - -HOTSPUR. -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. - -HOTSPUR. -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. - -HOTSPUR. -I can no longer brook thy vanities. - -[_They fight._] - -Enter Falstaff. - -FALSTAFF. -Well said, Hal! To it, Hal! Nay, you shall find no boy’s play here, I -can tell you. - -Enter Douglas. He fights with Falstaff, who falls down as if he were -dead, and exit Douglas. The Prince kills Hotspur. - -HOTSPUR. -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 slaves 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-weaved 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 remember’d in thy epitaph! - -[_Sees Falstaff on the ground._] - -What, old acquaintance, could not all this flesh -Keep in a little life? Poor Jack, farewell! -I could have better spared 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 today, -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 rises up. - -FALSTAFF. -Embowell’d! If thou embowel me today, I’ll give you leave to powder me -and eat me too tomorrow. ’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 -killed him. Why may not he rise as well as I? Nothing confutes me but -eyes, and nobody sees me. Therefore, sirrah, with a new wound in your -thigh, come you along with me. - -[_Takes Hotspur on his back._] - -Enter Prince Henry and Lancaster. - -PRINCE. -Come, brother John, full bravely hast thou flesh’d -Thy maiden sword. - -LANCASTER. -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. - -FALSTAFF. -No, that’s certain, I am not a double man. But if I be not Jack -Falstaff, then am I a Jack. There is Percy! [_Throwing the body down._] -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. - -FALSTAFF. -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 -believed, 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. - -LANCASTER. -This is the strangest tale that ever I heard. - -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 us to the highest of the field, -To see what friends are living, who are dead. - -[_Exeunt Prince Henry and Lancaster._] - -FALSTAFF. -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 King Henry, Prince Henry, Lancaster, -Westmoreland and others, 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 today, -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. - -WORCESTER. -What I have done my safety urged me to; -And I embrace this fortune patiently, -Since not to be avoided it falls 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 bruised -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 valours shown upon our crests today -Hath taught us how to cherish such high deeds, -Even in the bosom of our adversaries. - -LANCASTER. -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 land 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 SECOND PART OF KING HENRY THE FOURTH - - - - -Contents - - INDUCTION - - ACT I - Scene I. The same. - Scene II. London. A street. - Scene III. York. The Archbishop’s palace. - - ACT II - Scene I. London. A street. - Scene II. London. Another street. - Scene III. Warkworth. Before the castle. - Scene IV. The Boar’s head Tavern in Eastcheap. - - ACT III - Scene I. Westminster. The palace. - Scene II. Gloucestershire. Before Justice Shallow’s house. - - ACT IV - Scene I. Yorkshire. Gaultree Forest. - Scene II. Another part of the forest. - Scene III. Another part of the forest. - Scene IV. Westminster. The Jerusalem Chamber. - Scene V. Another chamber. - - ACT V - Scene I. Gloucestershire. Shallow’s house. - Scene II. Westminster. The palace. - Scene III. Gloucestershire. Shallow’s orchard. - Scene IV. London. A street. - Scene V. A public place near Westminster Abbey. - - EPILOGUE - - - - -Dramatis Personæ - -RUMOUR, the Presenter. -KING HENRY the Fourth. -HENRY, PRINCE OF WALES, afterwards King Henry the Fifth. -THOMAS, DUKE OF CLARENCE. -PRINCE JOHN OF LANCASTER. -PRINCE HUMPHREY OF GLOUCESTER. -EARL OF WARWICK. -EARL OF WESTMORELAND. -EARL OF SURREY. -GOWER. -HARCOURT. -SIR JOHN BLUNT. -Lord CHIEF JUSTICE of the King’s Bench. -A SERVANT of the Chief Justice. -Henry Percy, Earl of NORTHUMBERLAND. -Scroop, ARCHBISHOP of York. -Lord MOWBRAY. -Lord HASTINGS. -LORD BARDOLPH. -SIR JOHN COLEVILLE. -TRAVERS and MORTON, retainers of Northumberland. -SIR JOHN FALSTAFF. -His Page. -BARDOLPH. -PISTOL. -POINS. -PETO. -SHALLOW and SILENCE, country justices. -DAVY, Servant to Shallow. -MOULDY, SHADOW, WART, FEEBLE, and BULLCALF, recruits. -FANG and SNARE, sheriff’s officers. - -LADY NORTHUMBERLAND. -LADY PERCY. -MISTRESS QUICKLY, hostess of a tavern in Eastcheap. -DOLL TEARSHEET. - -Lords and Attendants; Porter, Drawers, Musicians, Beadles, Grooms, etc. - -A Dancer, speaker of the epilogue. - -SCENE: England. - - - - -INDUCTION - - -Warkworth. Before the 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 enmity -Under the smile of safety wounds the world. -And who but Rumour, who but only I, -Make fearful musters and prepared 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._] - - - - -ACT I - -SCENE I. The same. - -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 follow’d and so fairly won, -Came not till now to dignify the times -Since Caesar’s fortunes! - -NORTHUMBERLAND. -How is this derived? -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 render’d me these news for true. - -NORTHUMBERLAND. -Here comes my servant Travers, whom I sent -On Tuesday last to listen after news. - -Enter Travers. - -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 horsed, -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 stolen -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 shakest 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, -Remember’d 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 outbreathed, -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 steel’d, -Which once in him abated, all 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-weaken’d 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, -Weaken’d with grief, being now enraged 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’ enraged Northumberland! -Let heaven kiss earth! Now let not Nature’s hand -Keep the wild flood confined! Let order die! -And let this world no longer be a stage -To feed contention in a lingering 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 presurmise -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 advised his flesh was capable -Of wounds and scars, and that his forward spirit -Would lift him where most trade of danger ranged. -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 ventured, for the gain proposed -Choked 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 powers. 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. -Supposed 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, scraped 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 wiped 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 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. - -