The Tragedie of Hamlet.

271

As from the body of Contraction pluckes
The very foule, and fweete Religion makes
A raphidie of words. Heauens face doth glow,
Yea this solidity and compound maffe,
With trifftfull vifage as against the doome,
Is thought-fiche at the act.

Qu. Aye me; what act, that roares so lowd, & thunders in the index.

Ham. Looke heere vpon this Picture, and on this,
The counterfeet presentment of two Brothers :
See what a grace was teated on his Brow,
Hyperions curls, the front of Loue himselfe,
An eye like Mars, to threaten or command
A Station, like the Herald Mercrie
New lighted on a heauen-kiffing hill :
A Combination, and a forme indeed,
Where every God did teeme to fet his Seale,
To giue the world affluence of a man.
This was your Husband. Looke you now what follows.
Heere is your Husband, like a Mildew'd care
Blafting his wholſom breath. Haue you eyes ?
Could you on this faire Mountaine leave to feed,
And batten on this Moore ? Ha? Haue you eyes ?
You cannot call it Loue : For at your age,
The hey-day in the blood is tame, it's humble,
And waits vpon the Judgement ; and what Judgement
Would flep from this, to this ? What diuell was't,
That thus hath confound you at hoodman-blinde ?
O Shame ! where is thy Bifh ? Rebellious Hell,
If thou canſt mutine in a Matrons bones,
To flaming youth, let Vertue be as waxe,
And melt in her owne fire. Proclaine no ſhame,
When the compulſive Ardure giues the charge,
Since Froſt it ſelfe, as actuely doth burne,
As Reaſon panders Will.

Qu. O Hamlet, ſpeake no more.
Thou turn't mine eyes into my very ſoule,
And there I fee ſuch blacke and grained ſpots,
As will not leane their Tinct.

Ham. Nay, but to liue
In the ranke ſweat of an enfeamed bed,
Stew'd in Corruption; honying and making loue
Ouer the naſby Styge.

Qu. Oh ſpeake to me, no more,
These words like Daggers enter in mine eares.
No more ſweet Hamlet.

Ham. A Murderer, and a Villaine :
A Slaue, that is not twentieth part the tythe
Of your precedent Lord. A vice of Kings,
A Cutpurse of the Empire and the Rule.
That from a ſhelfe, the precious Diadem ſtole,
And put it in his Pocker.

Lu. No more.

Enter Gchoſt.

Ham. A King of ſhreds and patches.
Sane me; and houer o're me with your wings
You heauenly Guards. What would you gracious figure?

Lu. Alas he's mad.

Ham. Do you not come your tardy Sonne to chide,
That laps't in Time and Paffion, lets go by
That important acting of your dread command ? Oh ſay.

Gchoſt. Do not forger; this Vistation
Is but to whet thy almost blunted purpose.
But looke, Amazement on thy Mother fits;
O ftop betweene her, and her fighting Soule,
Conceit in weakeft bodies, ſtrongest workes.

Speake to her Hamlet.

Ham. How is it with you, Lady ?

Qu. Alas, how is't with you ?
That you bend your eye on vacancie,
And with their corporall ayre do hold diſconfuſe.
Forth at your eyes, your spirits wildly peepe,
And as the fleeping Soldiours in th'Alarme,
Your bedded haite, like life in excrements,
Start vp, and stand an end. Oh gentle Sonne,
Vpon the heate and flame of thy diſtemper
Sprinkle coole patience. Whereon do you looke ?

Ham. On him, on him: look you how pale he glares,
His forme and caufe conioyn'd, preaching to ſones,
Would make them capable. Do not looke vpon me,
Leaſt with this pitteous action you conuert:
My ſlerne effects : then what I haue to do,
Will want true colour; teares perchance for blood.

Qu. To who do you ſpeake this?

Ham. Do you fee nothing there?

Qu. Nothing at all, yet all that is I fee.

Ham. Nor did you nothing heare?

Qu. No, nothing but our ſelues.

Ham. Why look you there: looke how it fleals away:
My Father in his habite, as he lued,
Looke where he goes euen now out at the Portall. Exit.

Qu. This is the very coynage of your Braine,
This bodilſe Creacion extaſe is very cunning in.

Ham. Extaſſe?

My Pulſe as yours doth temperately keepe time,
And makes as healthfull Muficke. It is not madneſſe
That I haue vittered; bring me to the Teſt
And I the matter will re-word: which madneſſe
Would gamboll from. Mother, for loue of Gracé,
Lay not a flattering Vnction to your ſoule,
That not your trefpſaſe, but my madneſſe ſpeakes:
It will but skin and ſime the Vlcerous place,
Whilſt ranke Corruption mining all within,
Infects vnſeene. Conſeſſe your ſelfe to Heauen,
Repent what's paſt, auoyd what is to come,
And do not ſpred the Compoſt or the Weedes,
To make them ranke. Forgiue me this my Vertue,
For in the fatneſſe of this purſe times,
Vertue it ſelfe, of Vice muſt pardon begge,
Yea courb, and woe, for leaue to do him good.

Qu. Oh Hamlet,
Thou haſt cleft my heart in twaine.
Ham. O throw away the worſer part of it,
And liue the purer with the other halſe.
Good night, but go not to mine Vnkles bed,
Aflume a Vertue, if you haue it not, refraine to night,
And that ſhall lend a kinde of caſineſſe
To the next abſtinence. Once more goodnight,
And when you are defirous to be bleſſt,
Ile bleſſing begge of you. For this ſame Lord,
I do repent: but heauen hath pleas'd it so,
To puniſh me with this, and this with me,
That I muſt be their Scourge and Minifter.
I win, belowt him, and will anſwer well
The death I gaue him: ſo againe, good night!
I muſt be cruell, onely to be kinde;
Thus bad begins, and worle remains behinde.

Qu. What ſhall I do ?
Ham. Not this by no meaneſs that I bid you do :
Let the blunt King temp: you againe to bed,
Pinch Wanton on your cheeke, call you his Mouſe,
And let him for a paire of reechie kiffes.

pp. 2

Or

The Tragedie of Hamlet.

272

Or padling in your necke with his damn'd Fingers,
Make you to rauell all this matter out,
That I effentially am not in madneſſe,
But made in craft. 'Twere good you let him know,
For who that's but a Queene, faire, sober, wife,
Would from a Paddocke, from a Bat, a Gibbe,
Such deere concernings hide. Who would do so,
No in deſpight of Senſe and Secrecie,
Vnpegge the Basket on the houſe's top:
Let the Birds flye, and like the famous Ape
To try Conclusions in the Basket, creepe
And breake your owne necke downe.

Q. Be thou affur'd, if words be made of breath,
And breath of life: I haue no life to breath
What thou haſt faide to me.

Ham. I muſt to England, you know that ?

Qu. Alacke I had forgot : 'Tis so concluded on.

Ham. This man ſhall let me packing :

Ile luge the Guts into the Neighbor roome,
Mother goodnight. Indeede this Counſellor
Is now moſt full, moſt ſecret, and moſt graue,
Who was in life, a fooliſh prating Knaue.
Come fir, to draw toward an end with you.
Good night Mother.

Exit Hamlet tugging in Polonius.

Enter King.

King. There's matters in these ſighes.

These profound heaues

You muſt tranſlate; 'Tis fit we vnderſtand them.

Where is your Sonne?

Qu. Ah my good Lord, what haue I ſene to night?

King. What Gertrude? How do's Hamlet?

Qu. Mad as the Seas, and winde, when both contend

Which is the Mightier, in his lawleſſe fit

Behinde the Arras, hearing ſomething ſfirre,

He whips his Rapier out, and cries a Rat, a Rat,

And in his brainiſh apprehension killes

The vnſene good old man.

King. On heavy deed :

It had bin ſo with vs had we beene there:

His Liberty is full of threats to all,

To you your ſelſe, to vs, to every one.

Alas, how ſhall this bloody deede be anſwered?

It will be laide to vs, whose prouidence

Should haue kept ſhort, reſtrain'd, and out of haunts,

This mad yong man. But so much was our loue,

We would not vnderſtand what was moſt ſit,

But like the Owner of a ſoule diſeafe,

To keepe it from divulging, let's it ſeede

Euen on the pith of life. Where is he gone ?

Qu. To draw apart the body he hath kild,

O're whom his very madneſſe like some Oare

Among a Minerall of Mettels bafe

Shewes it ſelſe pure. He weepes for what is done.

King. Oh Gertrude, come away :

The Sun no sooner ſhall the Mountaines touch,

But we will ſhip him hence, and this vilde deed,

We muſt with all our Maiefy and Skill

Both countenance, and excufe.

Enter Rof. & Guild.

Ho Guildenſtern:

Friends both go ibyne you with ſome further ayde :

Hamlet in madneſſe hath Polonius ſlaine,

And from his Mother Cloffers hath he drag'd him.

Go ſeeke him out, ſpeake faire, and bring the body

Into the Chappell. I pray you haſt in this.

Exit Gen.

Come Gertrude, we'll call vp our wifeft friends,

To let them know both what we meane to do,
And what's vntimely done. Oh come away,
My ſoule is full of diſcord and diſmay.

Enter Hamlet.

Exeunt.

Ham. Safely ſtowed.

Gentlemen within. Hamlet, Lord Hamlet.

Ham. What noise? Who cals on Hamlet?

Oh heere they come.

Enter Rof. and Guildenſterns.

Ro. What haue you done my Lord with the dead body?

Ham. Compounded it with duſt, where to 'tis Kime.

Rofin. Tell vs where 'tis, that we may take it thence,

And beare it to the Chappell.

Ham. Do not beleeue it.

Rofin. Beleeue what ?

Ham. That I can keepe your counſell, and not mine
owne. Befides, to be demanded of a Spundge, what re-
plication ſhould be made by the Sonne of a King,

Rofin. Take you me for a Spundge, my Lord?

Ham. I ſir, that ſokes vp the Kings Countenance, his
Rewards, his Authorities (but ſuch Officers do the King
beſt ſeruice in the end). He keepeſ them like an Ape in
the corner of his iaw, firſt mouth'd to be laſt ſwallowed,
when he neeſdes what you haue glean'd), it is but que-
zing you, and Spundge you ſhall be dry againe.

Rofin. I vnderſtand you not my Lord.

Ham. I am glad of it : a knauiſh ſpeech ſleepes in a
fooliſh eare.

Rofin. My Lord, you muſt tell vs where the body is,
and go with vs to the King.

Ham. The body is with the King, but the King is not
with the body. The King, is a thing —

Guild. A thing my Lord?

Ham. Of nothing : bring me to him, hide Fox, and all
after.

Exeunt

Enter King.

King. I haue ſent to ſeeke him, and to find the bodie:
How dangerous is it that this man goes locſe:
Yet muſt not we put the ſtrong Law on him:
Hee's loued of the diſtraſted multitude,
Who like not in their iudgement, but their eyes:
And where 'tis so, th'Offenders ſcourge is weigh'd
But neerer the offence : to beare all moſt, and euen,
This ſodaine ſending him away, muſt ſeeme
Deliberate paſſe, diſeafeſes desperate growne,
By deſperate appliance are reſleued,

Or not at all.

Enter Rofin and Rofin's.

How now? What hath beſalne ?

Rofin. Where the dead body is beſtow'd my Lord,
We cannot get from him.

King. But where is he ?

Rofin. Without my Lor'd, guarded to know your
pleaſure.

King. Bring him before vs.

Rofin. Hoa, Guildenſterns? Bring in my Lord.

Enter Hamlet and Guildenſterns.

King. Now Hamlet, where's Polonius?

Ham. At Supper.

King. At Supper? Where?

Ham. Not where he eats, but where he is eaten, a certaine conuocation of wormes are e'ne at him. Your worm is your onely Emperor for diet. We fat all creatures eſle to fat vs, and we fat our ſelſe for Magots. Your fat Kings, and your leane Begger is but variable ſeruice to diſhes, but to one Table that's the end.

King. What doſt thou meane by this?

Ham.

The Tragedie of Hamlet.

273

Ham. Nothing but to shew you how a King may go a Progræsse through the guts of a Begger.

King. Where is Polonius.

Ham. In heauen, tend thither to fee. If your Melfenger finde him not there, feefe him i'th other place your selfe: but indeed, if you finde him not this moneth, you shall nose him as you go vp the staires into the Lobby.

King. Go feefe him there.

Ham. He will pay till ye come.

K. Hamlet, this deed of thine, for thine special safety Which we do tender, as we deereely greeue For that which thou haſt done, muſt tend thee hence With ſiere Quickneſſe. Therefore prepare thy ſelſe, The Barke is readie, and the winde at helpe, Th' Associates tend, and euery thing at bent For England.

Ham. For England ?

King. I Hamlet.

Ham. Good,

King. So is it, if thou knewſt our purpofes.

Ham. I fee a Cherube that fee's him: but come, for England, Farewell deere Mother.

King. Thy louing Father Hamlet.

Hamlet. My Mother: Father and Mother is man and wife: man & wife is one flesh, and so my mother. Come, for England.

Exit

King. Follow him at feore, Tempt him with speed aboord :

Delay it not, Ile haue him hence to night.

Away, for euery thing is Seal'd and done

That eſſe leanes on th' Aſſaire, pray you make haſt.

And England, if my loue thou holdst at ought,

As my great power thereof may giue thee ſenſe,

Since yet thy Cicatrice lookes raw and red

After the Danifh Sword, and thy free awe

Payes homage to vs; thou maiſt not coldly ſet

Our Soueraigne Proceſſe, which imports at full

By Letters coniuring to you that effect

The prefent death of Hamlet. Do it England,

For like the Heſticke in my blood he rages,

And thou muſt cure me: Till I know 'tis done,

How ere my happes, my ioyes were ne're begun.

Exit

Enter Fortinbras with an Armie.

For. Go Captaine, from me greet the Danifh King,

Tell him that by his licenſe, Fortinbras

Claims the conveuyance of a promis'd March

Ouer his Kingdome. You know the Rendeuous :

If that his Maieſty would ought with vs,

We ſhall expreſſe our dutie in his eye,

And let him know ſo.

Cap. I will doo't, my Lord.

For. Go safely on.

Exit.

Enter Queene and Horatio.

Qu. I will not ſpeake with her.

Hor. She is importunate, indeed diſtraſt, her moode will needs be pittied.

Qu. What would ſhe haue ?

Hor. She ſpeakes much of her Father; faſes he heares There's tricks ſt'his world, and hems, and beats her heart, Spurnes enuiously at Strawes, ſpeakes things in doubt, That carry but halſe ſenſe: Her ſpeech is nothing,

Yet the vnſhaped vſe of it doth moue

The hearers to Collection; they ayme at it,
And both the words vp fit to their owne thoughts,
Which as her winkes, and nods, and geſtures yeeld them,

Indeed would make one thinke there would be thought,
Though nothing ſure, yet much vnhappily.

Qu. 'Twere good ſhe were ſpoken with,

For ſhe may ſrew dangerous coniectures

In ill breeding minds. Let her come in.

To my ſicke foule (as finnes true Nature is)

Each toy ſeemes Prologue, to ſome great amiffe,

So full of Artleſſe ialouſie is guilt,

It ſpill's it ſelſe, in fearing to be ſpilt.

Enter Ophelia diſtraſtéd,

Ophe, Where is the beauteous Maieſty of Denmark.

Qu. How now Ophelia?

Ophe. How ſhould I your true loue knowe from another one?

By his Cackle hat and ſtaffe, and his Sandal ſnooze.

Qu. Alas sweet Lady: what imports this Song?

Ophe. Say you? Nay, pray you marke.

He is dead and gone Lady, he is dead and gone,

As his head a graſſe-greeue Turſe, at his heeles a ſtone.

Enter King.

Qu. Nay, but Ophelia.

Ophe. Pray you marke.

White his Shrow'd as the Mountaine Snow,

Qu. Alas, looke heree my Lord.

Ophe. Larded with sweet flowers :

Which bewept to the graue did not go,

With true-lone ſnowes.

King. How do ye, pretty Lady?

Ophe. Well, God dil'd you. They ſay the Owle was a Bakers daughter. Lord, wee know what we are, but know not what we may be. God be at your Table.

King. Conceit vpon her Father.

Ophe. Pray you let's haue no words of this: but when they aske you what it meanes, ſay you this :

To morrow is S. Valentines day, all in the morning betime,

And I a Maid at your Window, to be your Valentine.

Then vp her ſe, & don't his clothes. & dupt the chambor dore,

Let in the Maid, that ont a Maid, neuer departed more.

King. Pretty Ophelia.

Ophe. Indeed la? without an oath Ile make an end ont.

By gis, and by S. Charity,

Alacke, and ſie for Ihame :

Tong men wil doo't, if they come too't,

By Cacke they are too blame.

Quoth ſhe before you tumbled me,

Tou promis'd me to Wed:

Sowould I ha'done by yonder Swanne,

And thou hadst not come to my bed.

King. How long hath ſhe bin this?

Ophe. I hope all will be well. We muſt bee patient, but I cannot choose but weepe, to thinke they should lay him i'th'cold ground: My brother ſhall knowe of it, and fo I thanke you for your good confell. Come, my Coach: Goodnight Ladies: Goodnight sweet Ladies : Goodnight, goodnight.

Exit.

King. Follow her close,

Gie her good watch I pray you:

Oh this is the poyſon of deepe greeſe, it ſprings

All from her Fathers death. Oli Gertrude, Gertrude,

When ſorrowes comes, they come not ſingle ſpies,

But in Battaliaes. First, her Father flaine,

Next your Sonne gone, and he moſt violent Author

Of his owne iuſt remoue : the people muddied,

Thicke and vnwholſome in their thoughts, and whiſpers

For good Polonius death; and we haue done but greenly

In hugger mugger to interre him. Poore Ophelia

Diuided from her ſelſe, and her faire Iudgement,

Without

pp.3

The Tragedie of Hamlet.

Without the which we are Pictures, or meere Beasts.
Laft, and as much containing as all these,
Her Brother is in secret come from France,
Keepes on his wonder, keepe his selfe in clouds,
And wants not Buzzers to infect his care
With peftilent Speeches of his Fathers death,
Where in necessitie of matter Beggard,
Will nothing fikce our perſons to Arraigne
In care and care. O my deere Gertrude, this,
Like to a murdering Peece in many places,
Giuues me ſuperfluous death.
A Noife within,

Enter a Messenger.

Qu. Alacke, what noyfe is this?
King. Where are my Switzers?
Let them guard the doore. What is the matter?
Mef. Saue your ſelfe, my Lord.
The Ocean (ouer-peering of his Lift)
Eates not the Flats with more impittious haſte
Then young Laertes, in a Riotous head,
Ore-beares your Officers, the rabble call him Lord,
And as the world were now but to begin,
Antiquity forgot, Cuſtome not knowne,
The Ratifiers and props of euery word,
They cry choose we? Laertes ſhall be King,
Caps, hands, and tongues, applaud it to the clouds,
Laertes ſhall be King, Laertes King.

Qu. How cheerfully on the false Traile they cry,
Oh this is Counter you fal ſie Danish Dogges.

Noife within. Enter Laertes.
King. The doores are broke.
Laer. Where is the King, firs ? Stand you all without.
All. No, let's come in.
Laer. I pray you giue me leaue.
Al. We will, we will.
Laer. I thanke you: Keepe the doore.
Oh thou vilde King, giue me my Father.
Qu. Calmely good Laertes.

Laer. That drop of blood, that calmes
Proclaimes me Baſtard:
Cries Cuckold to my Father, brands the Harlot
Euen heere betweene the chaſte vnſmirched brow
Of my true Mother.
King. What is the cauſe Laertes,
That thy Rebellion looks ſo Gyant-like?
Let him go Gertrude : Do not feare our perſon :
There's ſuch Diuinity doth hedge a King,
That Treason can but peepe to what it would,
Acts little of his will. Tell me Laertes,
Why thou art thus Incenſt? Let him go Gertrude.
Speake man.

Laer. Where's my Father?
King. Dead.
La. But not by him.
King. Let him demand his fill.
Laer. How came he dead? Ile not be Iuggel'd with.
To hell Allegence: Vowes, to the blackeft diuell.
Conſcience and Grace, to the profoundeft Pit.
I dare Damnation: to this point I stand,
That both the worlds I giue to negligence,
Let come what comes : onely Ile be reueng'd
Moft throughly for my Father.

King. Who ſhall fly you?
Laer. My Will, not all the world,
And for my meanes, Ile husband them ſo well,
They ſhall go farre with little.

King. Good Laertes:
If you defire to know the certaintie
Of your deere Fathers death, if writ in your reuenge,
That Soop-stake you will draw both Friend and Foe,
Winner and Looſer.
Laer. None but his Enemies.
King. Will you know them then,
La. To his good Friends, thus wide I oped my Atmes:
And like the kinde Life-rend'ing Politician,
Repaſt them with my blood.
King. Why now you ſpeake
Like a good Childe, and a true Gentleman.
That I am guiltlesſe of your Fathers death,
And am moſt ſenſible in greeſe for it,
It ſhall as leuell to your Iudgement pierce
As day do's to your eye.
A noife within. Let her come in.
Enter Ophelia.

Laer. How now? what noſe is that?
Oh heate drie vp my Braines, teares ſeuen times ſalt,
Burne out the Sence and Vertue of mine eye.
By Heauen, thy madneſſe ſhall be payed by waight,
Till our Scale turnes the beame. Oh Role of May,
Deere Maid, kinde Sifter, ſweet Ophelia:
Oh Heauens, is't poſſible, a yong Maid's wits,
Should be as morall as an old man's life?
Nature is fine in Loue, and where 'tis fine,
It ſends ſome precious instance of it ſelfe
After the thing it loues.

Ophe. They bore him bare ſac'd on the Beer,
Hey non nony, nony hey nony :
And on his graue raines many a weare,
Fare you well my Done.

Laer. Had I ſt thy wits, and did ſt perlwade Reuenge, it could not moue thus.

Ophe. You muſt ſing downe a-downe, and you call
him a-downe-a. Oh, how the wheelc becomes it? It
the fal ſe Steward that ſole his maſters daughter,

Laer. This nothings more then matter.

Ophe. There's Roſemary, that's for Remembrance.
Pray loue remember: and there is Paconies, that's for
Thoughts.

Laer. A document in madneſſe, thoughts & remembrance ſitted.

Ophe. There's Fennell for you, and Columbines: there's
Rew for you, and heere's ſome for me. Wee may call it
Herbe-Grace a Sundaies: Oh you muſt weare your Rew
with a difference. There's a Dayſie, I would giue you
ſome Violets, but they wither'd all when my Father dyed:
They ſay, he made a good end;

For bonny ſweet Robin is all my joy.

Laer. Thought, and Afflіction, Paffion, Hell it ſelfe:
She turnes to Fauour, and to prettineſſe.

Ophe. And will he not come againe,
And will he not come againe:
No, no, he is dead, go to thy Death-bed,
He neuer wil come againe.
His Beard as white as Snow,
All Flaxen was his Pole:
He is gone, he is gone, and we caſt away mone,
Gramercy on his Soule.

And of all Chriſtian Soules, I pray God.
God buy ye.

Exultant Ophelia.

Laer. Do you ſee this, you Gods?
King. Laertes, I muſt common with your greeſe,
Or you deny me right: go but apart,
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The Tragedie of Hamlet.

276

Had witchcraft in't; he grew into his Seat,
And to such wondrous doing brought his Horfe,
As had he beene encorps't and demy-Natur'd
With the braue Beaſt, so farre he paff'd my thought,
That I in forgery of shapes and trickses,
Come short of what he did.

Laer. A Norman was't?

Kin. A Norman.

Laer. Vpon my life Lamound.

Kin. The very fame.

Laer. I know him well, he is the Brooch indeed,
And Iemme of all our Nation.

Kin. Hee mad conſeſſion of you,
And gaue you ſuch a Maſterly report,
For Art and exercife in your defence;
And for your Rapier moſt eſpecially,
That he cryed out, it would be a fight indeed,
If one could match you Sir. This report of his
Did Hamlet ſo envenom with his Enuy,
That he could nothing doe but withſ and begge,
Your ſodaine comming ore to play with him;
Now out of this.

Laer. Why out of this, my Lord?

Kin. Laertes was your Father deare to you?
Or are you like the painting of a ſorrow,
A face without a heart?

Laer. Why aske you this?

Kin. Not that I thinke you did not loue your Father,
But that I know Loue is begun by Time:
And that I ſee in paſſages of proofe,
Time qualifies the ſparke and fire of it:

Hamlet comes backe: what would you vndertake,
To ſhow your ſelfe your Fathers ſonne indeed,
More then in words?

Laer. To cut his throat i'th' Church.

Kin. No place indeed ſhould murder Sancturize;
Reuenge ſhould haue no bounds : but good Laertes
Will you doe this, keepe close within your Chamber,
Hamlet return'd, ſhall know you are come home :

Wee'l put on thate ſhall prais'e your excellence,
And ſet a double varnifh on the fame

The Frenchman gaue you, bring you in fine together,
And wager on your heads, he being remiſſe,
Moſt generous, and free from all contriuing,
Will not perſufe the Foiles? So that with eſe,
Or with a little ſhuffling, you may chooſe
A Sword vnbaited, and in a paffe of practice,
Requit him for your Father.

Laer. I will doo't,
And for that purpose Ile annoint my Sword:
I bought an Vnction of a Mountebanke
So mortall, I but dipt a knife in it,
Where it drawes blood, no Cataplaſme ſo rare,
Collected from all Simples that haue Vertue
Vnder the Moone, can ſaue the thing from death,
That is but scratche withall: Ile touch my point,
With this contagion, that if I gall him flightely,
I t may be death.

Kin. Let's further thinke of this,
Weigh what conuenience both of time and meane's
May fit vs to our ſhape, if this ſhould ſaile;
And that our drift looke through our bad performance,
'Twere better not affair'd; therefore this Proieſt
Should haue a backe or ſecond, that might hold,
If this ſhould blaſt in proofe: Soft, let me fee
Wee'l make a ſolemne wager on your commings,

I ha't: when in your motion you are hot and dry,
As make your bowts more violent to the end,
And that he cals for drinke: Ile haue prepar'd him
A Challice for the nonce; whereon but fipping,
If he by chance eſcape your venom'd fluck,
Our purpofe may hold there; how ſweet Queene.

### Enter Queene.

Queen. One woe doth tread vpon anothers heele,
So ſaſt they'l follow: your Sifter's drown'd Laertes.

Laer. Drown'd! O where?
Queen. There is a Willow growes allant a Brooke,
That ſhewes his hore leaues in the glaſſe fireame:
There with fantaſticke Garlands did ſhe come,
Of Crow-flowers, Nettles, Dayſies, and long Purples,
That liberall Shepheards giue a groſſer name:
But our cold Maids doe Dead Mens Fingers call them:
There on the pendant boughes, her Coronet weeds
Clambring to hang; an enuious fluer broke,
When downe the weedy Trophies, and her ſelfe,
Fell in the weeping Brooke, her cloathes spred wide,
And Mermaid-like, a while they bore her vp,
Which time ſhe chaunted ſnatches of old tunes,
As one incapable of her owne diſtreſſe,
Or like a creature Natique, and induced
Vnto that Element: but long it could not be,
Till that her garments, heavy with her drinke,
Pul'd the poore wretch from her melodious buy,
To muddy death.

Laer. Alas then, is ſhe drown'd?

Queen. Drown'd, drown'd.

Laer. Too much of water haſt thou poore Ophelia,
And therefore I forbid my teares; but yet
It is our tricke, Nature her cultome holds,
Let ſhame ſay what it will; when theſe are gone
The woman will be out: Adue my Lord,
I haue a ſpeech of fire, that faire would blaze,
But that this folly doubts it. Exit.

Kin. Let's follow, Gertrude:
How much I had to doe to calme his rage?
Now feare I this will giue it start againe;
Therefore let's follow. Exeunt.

### Enter two Clowns.

Clown. Is ſhe to bee buried in Christian buriall, that wilfully ſeeke his owne ſaluation?

Other. I tell theſe is, and therefore make her Graue
ſtraight, the Crowner hath ſate on her, and finds it Christian buriall.

Clo. How can that be, vnleſſe ſhe drowned her ſelfe in her owne defence?

Other. Why 'tis found ſo.

Clo. It muſt be Se offendendo, it cannot bee eſſe: for
heere lies the point; If I drowne my ſelfe wittlingly, it ar-
gues an Aſt: and an Aſt hath three branches. It is an
Aſt to doe and to performe; argall ſhe drown'd her ſelfe
wittlingly.

Other. Nay but heare you Goodman Deluer.

Clown. Giue me leaue; heere lies the water good:
heere stands the man; good: If the man goe to this wa-
ter and drowneth himſeſe; it is will he nil he, he goe
marke you that? But if the water come to him & drowneth
him; hee drowneth not himſelſe. Argall, hee that is not
guilty of his owne death, shortens not his owne life.

Other. But is this law?

Clo. I marry it'st, Crowners Queſt Law.

Other.

The Tragedie of Hamlet.

277

*Other.* Will you ha the truth on't: if this had not beene a Gentlewoman, shee should haue beene buried out of Christian Buriall.

*Clo.* Why there thou fay'st. And the more pitty that great folke should haue countenance in this world to drowne or hang them; but then their even Christian. Come, my Spade; there is no ancient Gentlemen, but Gardiners, Ditchers and Graue-makers; they hold vp Adams Profession.

*Other.* Was he a Gentleman?

*Clo.* He was the first that euer bore Armes.

*Other.* Why he had none.

*Clo.* What, are't a Heathen? how doft thou understand the Scripture? the Scripture fayes Adam dig'd; could hee digge without Armes? He put another question to thee; if thou anſwerest me not to the purpose, confelſe thy ſelfe.

*Other.* Go too.

*Clo.* What is he that builds ſtronger then either the Mafon, the Shipwright, or the Carpenter?

*Other.* The Gallowes maker, for that Frame outliues a thousand Tenants.

*Clo.* I like thy wit well in good faith, the Gallowes does well; but how does it well? it does well to thofe that doell: now, thou doſt ill to ſay the Gallowes is built ſtronger then the Church: Argall, the Gallowes may do well to thee. Too't againe, Come.

*Other.* Who builds ſtronger then a Mafon, a Shipwright, or a Carpenter?

*Clo.* I, tell me that, and vnyoake.

*Other.* Marry, now I can tell.

*Clo.* Too't.

*Other.* Maffe, I cannot tell.

*Enter Hamlet and Horatio a farre eff.*

*Clo.* Cudgell thy brains no more about it; for your dull Aſſe will not mend his pace with beating; and when you are ask't that queſtion next, ſay a Graue-maker: the Houses that he makes, laſts till Doomedſday: go, get thee to Tanghan, fetch me a ſtoupe of Liquor.

*Sings.*

*In youth when I did love, did love, me thought it was very sweete.*

*To contracſt O the time for a my behome, O me thought there was nothing meete.*

*Ham.* Ha's this fellow no feeling of his buſineſſe, that he ſings at Graue-making?

*Hor.* Cusſome hath made it in him a property of eauineſſe.

*Ham.* Tis e'en ſo; the hand of little Imployment hath the daintier ſente.

*Clowne ſings.*

*But Age with his ſealing ſteps hath caught me in his clutch:*

*And hath ſhipped me intill the Land, as if I had neuer beene ſuch.*

*Ham.* That Scull had a tongue in it, and could ſing once: how the knaue iowles it to th' ground, as if it were Caines Iaw-bone, that did the first murther: It might be the Pateof a Politician which this Aſſe o're Offices; one that could circumvent God, might it not?

*Hor.* It might, my Lord.

*Ham.* Or of a Courtier, which could ſay, Good Morrow (sweet Lord: how doſt thou, good Lord? this might be my Lord ſuch a one, that prais'd my Lord ſuch a ones Horſe, when he meant to begge it; might it not?

*Hor.* I, my Lord.

*Ham.* Why e'en ſo: and now my Lady Wormes, Chapleſſe, and knoekt about the Mazard with a Sextons Spade; here's fine Reuſolution, if wee had the tricke to ſee't. Did these bones coſt no more the breeding, but to play at Loggets with 'em? mine alke to thinke on't.

*Clowne ſings.*

*A Pickhaxe and a Spade, a Spade, for and a ſhrowing-Sheeie:*

*O a Pit of Clay for to be made, for ſuch a Gueſt is meete.*

*Ham.* There's another: why might not that bee the Scull of a Lawyer? where be his Quiddits now? his Quillets? his Cafes? his Tenures, and his Tricks? why doe's he ſuffer this rude knaue now to knocke him about the Sconce with a dirty Shouell, 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 haue his fine Pate full of fine Dirt? will his Vouchers vouch him no more of his Purchafes, and double ones too, then the length and breadth of a paire of Indentures? the very Conveyances of his Lands will hardly lye in this Boxe; and muſt the Inheritor himſelfe haue no more? ha?

*Hor.* Not aiot more, my Lord.

*Ham.* Is not Parchment made of Sheep-skinnes?

*Hor.* I my Lord, and of Calve-skinnes too.

*Ham.* They are Sheepe and Calues that seek out affuſance in that. I will ſpeake to this fellow: whose Graue's this Sir?

*Clo.* Mine Sir:

*Ham.* I thinke it be thine indeed: for thou lieſt in't.

*Clo.* You lye out on't Sir, and therefore it is not yours: for my part, I doe not lye in't; and yet it is mine.

*Ham.* Thou doſt lye in't, to be in't and ſay 'tis thine: 'tis for the dead, not for the quicke, therefore thou lyeſt.

*Clo.* 'Tis a quicke lye Sir, 'twill away againe from me to you.

*Ham.* What man doſt thou digge it for?

*Clo.* For no man Sir.

*Ham.* What woman then?

*Clo.* For none neither.

*Ham.* Who is to be buried in't?

*Clo.* One that was a woman Sir; but reſt her Soule, ſhée's dead.

*Ham.* How obſolute the knaue is? wee muſt ſpeake by the Carde, or equiocation will vndoe vs: by the Lord Horatio, these three yeares I haue taken note of it, the Age is growne ſo picked, that the toe of the Pefant comes ſo neere the heeles of our Courtier, hee galls his Kibe. How long haſt thou been a Graue-maker?

*Clo.* Of all the dayes i'th' yeare, I came too't that day that our Iaſt King Hamlet o'recame Fortinbras.

*Ham.* How long is that ſince?

*Clo.* Cannot you tell that? every ſoole can tell that: It was the very day, that young Hamlet was borne, hee that was mad, and ſent into England.

*Ham.* I marry, why was he ſent into England?

*Clo.* Why, becauſe he was mad; hee shall recouer his wits there; or if he do not, it's no great matter there.

*Ham.*

The Tragedie of Hamlet.

278

Ham. Why?
Clo. 'Twill not be seen in him, there the men are as
mad as he.

Ham. How came he mad?

Clo. Very strangely they say.

Ham. How strangely?

Clo. Faith e'ene with loofing his wits.

Ham. Vpon what ground?

Clo. Why heere in Denmark: I haue bin fixeteeene
heree, man and Boy thirty yeares.

Ham. How long will a man lie 'ith' earth ere he rot?

Clo. If faith, if he be not rosten before he die (as we haue
many pocky Coartes now adaies, that will scarce hold
the laying in) he will laft you some eight yeare, or nine
yeare. A Tanner will laft you nine year e.

Ham. Why he, more then another ?

Clo. Why fir, his hide is so tan'd with his Trade, that
he will keepe out water a great while. And your water,
is a fore Decayer of your horzon dead body. Heres a Scull
now: this Scull, has laine in the earth three & twenty years.

Ham. Whose was it?

Clo. A whorefson mad Fellowes it was;
Whose doe you thinke it was?

Ham. Nay, I know not.

Clo. A pestleence on him for a mad Rogue, a pou'r'da
Flaggon of Renish on my head once. This fame Scull
Sir, this fame Scull fir, was Toricks Scull, the Kings Iester.

Ham. This?

Clo: E'ene that.

Ham. Let me see. Alas poore Torick, I knew him Horatio, a fellow of infinite left; of most excellent fancy, he hath borne me on his backe a thousand times: And how abhorred my Imagination is, my gorge rifes at it. Heere hung those lipps, that I haue kift I know not how oft. Where be your libes now ? Your Gambals ? Your Songs ? Your flashes of Merriment that were wont to fet the Table on a Rare ? No one now to mock your own Ieering ? Quite chopfalne ? Now get you to my Ladies Chamber, and tell her, let her paint an inch thicke, to this fauour she muft come. Make her laugh at that: prythee Horatio tell me one thing.

Hor. What's that my Lord?

Ham. Doft thou thinke Alexander lookt o'this fa-
chion i'th' earth?

Hor. E'ene so.

Ham. And smelt so ? Puh.

Hor. E'ene so, my Lord,

Ham. To what bafe vſes we may returne Horatio.
Why may not Imagination trace the Noble duſt of A-
lexander, till he find it flopping a bunghole.

Hor. 'Twere to confider: to curiously to confider so.

Ham. No faith, not aiot. But to follow him thether
with modeſtie enough, & likeliehood to lead it; as thus.
Alexander died : Alexander was buried : Alexander re-
turneth into duſt; the duſt is earth; of earth we make
Lome, and why of that Lome (whereto he was conver-
ted) might they not ſtop a Beere-barrell?

Imperiall Cefar, dead and turn'd to clay,
Might ſtop a hole to keepe the winde away.
Oh, that that earth, which kept the world in awe,
Should patch a Wall, t'expell the winters flaw.
But ſott, but ſoft, aſide, heere comes the King.

Enter King, Queene, Laertes, and a Coffin,
with Lords attendant.
The Queene, the Courtiers. Who is that they follow,

And with ſuch maimed rites ? This doth betoken,
The Coarſe they follow, did with diſperate hand,
Fore do it owne life; 'twas ſome Eſtate.

Couch we a while, and mark.

Laer. What Cerimony eſſe?

Ham. That is Laertes, a very Noble youth : Marke,

Laer. What Cerimony eſſe?

Prieft. Her Obſequies haue bin as farre inlarg'd,
As we haue warrantis, her death was doubtfull,
And but that great Command, o're-Iwaies the order,
She should in ground vnſanctified haue lodg'd,
Till the laſt Trumpet. For charitable praiers,
Shardes, Flints, and Peebles, ſhould be thro wne on her:
Yet heere ſhe is allowed her Virgin Rites,
Her Maiden ſtrewments, and the bringing home
Of Bell and Buriall.

Laer. Muſt there no more be done?

Prieft. No more be done :

We should prophane the ſeruice of the dead,
To ſing ſage Requiem, and ſuch reſt to her
As to peace-parted Soules.

Laer. Lay her i'th' earth,
And from her faire and vnpolluted ſelfh,
May Violets ſpring. I tell thee (churlifsh Prieft)
A Miniftring Angell ſhall my Sifter be,
When thou liest howling?

Ham. What, the faire Ophelia?

Queene. Sweets, to the weet farewell.

I hop'd thou should'ſt haue bin my Hamlets wife;
I thought thy Bride-bed to haue deckt (weet Maid)
And not t'haue ſrew'd thy Graue.

Laer. Oh terrible woer,
Fall ten times trebble, on that curled head
Whofe wicked deed, thy moſt Ingeniousſence
Depriu'd thee of. Hold off the earth a while,
Till I haue caught her once more in mine armes :

Leaps in the graue.

Now pile your duſt, vpon the quickie, and dead,
Till of this flat a Mountaine you haue made,
To o're top old Pellon, or the skyſh head
Of blewled Olympus.

Ham. What is he, whose griefes

Beares ſuch an Emphatis ? whose phraſe of Sorrow
Coniure the wandling Starres, and makes them fland
Like wonder-wounded hearers ? This is I,
Hamlet the Dane.

Laer. The deuill take thy foule.

Ham. Thou praiſt not well,

I prythee take thy fingers from my throat;
Sir though I am not Spleenatiue, and rafh,
Yet haue I ſomething in me dangerous,
Which let thy wifeneſſe feare. Away thy hand.

King. Pluck them aſunder.

Qu. Hamlet, Harlees.

Gen. Good my Lord be quiet.

Ham. Why I will fight with him vppon this Theme,
Vntill my cieſels will no longer wag.

Qu. Oh my Sonne, what Theame ?

Ham. I lou'd Ophelia; fortie thousand Brothers
Could not (with all there quantitie of Lome)
Make vp my ſumme. What wilt thou do for her?

King. Oh he is mad Laertes,

Qu. For loue of God forbeare him.

Ham. Come show me what thou'lt doe.

Woo't weepe ? Woo't fight ? Woo't reare thy ſelfe?
Woo't drinke vp Eſile, eate a Crocodile ?

11e

The Tragedie of Hamlet.

259

Ile doct, Doft thou come here to whine;
To outface me with leaping in her Graue ?
Be buried quicke with her, and so will I.
And if thou prate of Mountaine, let them throw
Millions of Akers on vs; till our ground
Sindging his pate against the burning Zone,
Make Offa like a waste; Nay, and thou'l mouth,
Ile rant as well as thou.

Kin. This is more Madneſſe :
And thus awhile the fit will worke on him:
Anon as patient as the female Doue,
When that her golden Cuplet are diſcloſ'd;
His ſilence will fit drooping.

Ham. Heare you, Sir:
What is the reaſon that you vſe me thus ?
I loud you euer; but it is no matter:
Let Heroules himſelfe do what he may,
The Cat will Mew, and Dogge will have his day. Exit.

Kin. I pray you good Horatio, wait upon him,
Strengthen you patience in our last nights ſpeech,
Wee'l put the matter to the preſent pufh:
Good Gertrude let some watch oer your Sonne,
This Graue shall have a living Monument:
An houre of quiet ſhortly ſhall we fee;
Till then, in patience our proceeding be.

Exeunt.

Enter Hamlet and Horatio.

Ham. So much for this Sir; now let me see the other,
You doe remember all the Circumſtance.

Hor. Remember it my Lord?

Ham. Sir, in my heart there was a kinde of fighting,
That would not let me ſleep; me thought I lay
Worſe then the mutines in the Bilboes, rafhly,
(And praisc be rafhneſſe for it) let vs know,
Our indiſeſation ſometimes ſerues vs well,
When our deare plots do paule; and that should teach vs,
There's a Diuinity that ſhapes our ends,
Rough-hew them how we will.

Hor. That is moſt certaine.

Ham. Vp from my Cabin

My ſea-gowne ſcarſt about me in the darke,
Grop'd I to finde out them; had my defire,
Finger'd their Packet, and in fine, withdrew
To mine owaue roome againe, making ſo bold,
(My ſeaures forgetting manners) to vnſeale
Their grand Commiſſion, where I found Horatio,
Oh royall knauiery : An exact command,
Larded with many ſeverall forts of reaſons;
Importing Denmark health, and Englands too,
With hoo, ſuch Bugges and Goblins in my life;
That on the ſupereuize no leaſure bated,
No not to ſtay the grinding of the Axe,
My head ſhould be struck off.

Hor. Iſt possible?

Ham. Here's the Commiſſion, read it at more leſure;
But wilt thou heare me how I did proceed?

Hor. I beſeech you.

Ham. Being thus benetted round with Villaines,
Ere I could make a Prologue to my braines,
They had begun the Play. I fate me downe,
Deuisc'd a new Commiſſion, wrote it faire,
I once did hold it as our Statifts doe,
A baseneſſe to write faire; and laboured much
How to forget that learning: but Sir now,
It did me Yeomans ſeruice: wilt thou know
The effects of what I wrote?

Hor. I, good my Lord.

Ham. An earneſt Coniuration from the Kings,
As England was his faithfull Tributary,
As loue betweene them, as the Palme should flouriſh,
As Peace should fill her wheaten Garland weare,
And ſand a Comma'twene their amities,
And many ſuch like Aſſis of great charge,
That on the view and know of these Contents,
Without debatement further, more or leſſe,
He ſhould the bearers put to Iodaine death,
Not thriving time allowed.

Hor. How was this ſeal'd?

Ham. Why, euern in that was Heauen ordinates;
I had my fathers Signer in my Purſe,
Which was the Modell of that Danilſh Seale :
Folded the Writ vp in forme of the other,
Subſcrib'd it, gau't th'impression, plac't it safely,
The changeling neuer knowne: Now, the next day,
Was our Sea ſight, and what to this was ſement,
Thou know't already.

Hor. So Gildenſterne and Rofinſcance, go too't.
Ham. Why, man, they did make loue to this imployment
They are not neere my Conſcience; their debate
Doth by their owne inſuflation grow:
'Tis dangerous, when the bafe nature comes
Betweene the paffe, and fell incensed points
Of mighty oppoſites.

Hor. Why, what a King is this?

Ham. Does it not, think't thee, ſand me now upon
He that hath kill'd my King, and whor'd my Mother,
Popt in betweene th'election and my hopes,
Throwne out his Angle for my proper life,
And with ſuch coozenage; is't not perfect Conſcience,
To quit him with this arme? And is't not to be damn'd
To let this Canker of our nature come
In further euill.

Hor. It muſt be ſhortly knowne to him from England
What is the iffue of the buſineſſe there.

Ham. It will be ſhort,
The interim's mine, and a mans life's no more
Then to ſay one: but I am very forry good Horatio,
That to Laertes I forgot my ſelfe;
For by the image of my Cause, I ſee
The Portraiture of his; Ile count his fauours:
But ſure the brauery of his griefe did put me
Into a Towring paffion.

Hor. Peace, who comes here?

Enter young Oſtricke.

(marke.)

Oſr. Your Lordſhip is right welcome back to Den-
Ham, I humbly thank you Sir, doſt know this waterflie?
Hor. No my good Lord.

Ham. Thy ſtate is the more gracious; for't is 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 Kings
Meffe; 'tis a Chowgh; but as I saw ſpacious in the poſ-
ſſion of dirt.

Oſr. Sweet Lord, if your friendſhip were at leſure,
I should impart a thing to you from his Maieſty.

Ham. I will receiue it with all diligence of ſpiriſt; put
your Bonet to his right vſe; 'tis for the head.

Oſr. I thanke your Lordſhip, 'tis very hot.

Ham. No, beleeue mee; 'tis very cold, the winde is
Northerly.

Oſr. It is indifferent cold my Lord indeed.

Ham. Mee thinkes it is very ſoultry, and hot for my
Complexion.

Oſtricke.

The Tragedie of Hamlet.

Ofr. Exceedingly, my Lord, it is very poultry, as 'were I cannot tell how: but my Lord, his Maiestie bad me figure to you, that he ha's laid a great wager on your head: Sir, this is the matter.

Ham. I befeech you remember.

Ofr. Nay, in good faith, for mine ease in good faith: Sir, you are not ignorant of what excellence *Laertes* is at his weapon.

Ham. What's his weapon?

Ofr. Rapier and dagger.

Ham. That's two of his weapons; but well.

Ofr. The first King ha's wag'd with him fix Barbary Horses, againſt the which he impon'd as I take it, fixe French Rapiers and Poniards, with their affignes, as Girdle, Hangers or fo: three of the Carriages inſaith are very dear to fancy, very reſponſive to the hilts, moſt delicate carriages, and of very liberall conceit.

Ham. What call you the Carriages?

Ofr. The Carriages Sir, are the hangers.

Ham. The phrase would bee more Germaine to the matter: If we could carry Cannon by our fides; I would it might be Hangers till then; but on fixe Barbary Horses againſt fixe French Swords: their Aſſignes, and three liberall conceited Carriages, that's the French but againſt the Danifh; why is this impon'd as you call it?

Ofr. The King Sir, hath laid that in a dozen paffes betweene you and him, hee ſhall not exceed you three hits; He hath one twelue for mine, and that would come to immediate tryall, if your Lordſhip would vouchſafe the Anſwere.

Ham. How if I anſwere no?

Ofr. I mean my Lord, the oppofition of your perſon in tryall.

Ham. Sir, I will walke heere in the Hall; if it please his Maiestie, 'tis the breathing time of day with me; let the Foyles bee brought, the Gentleman willing, and the King hold his purpofe; I will win for him if I can: if not, Ile gaine nothing but my ſhame, and the odde hits.

Ofr. Shall I redeliuer you ce'n fo?

Ham. To this effect Sir, after what flourish your nature will.

Ofr. I commend my duty to your Lordſhip.

Ham. Yours, yours; hee does well to commend it himselfe, there are no tongues eſſe for your tongue.

Hor. This Lapwing runs away with the ſhell on his head.

Ham. He did Complie with his Dugge before hee fuck't it: thus had he and mine more of the fame Beaugy that I know the droſſe age dotes on; only got the tune of the time, and outward habite of encounter, a kinde of yeſſy collection, which carries them through & through the moſt fond and winnowed opinions; and doe but blow them to their tryalls: the Bubbles are out.

Hor. You will loſe this wager, my Lord.

Ham. I do not thinke so, ſince he went into France, I haue beene in continuall practice; I ſhall winne at the odds: but thou wouldſt not thinke how all heere a-bone my heart: but it is no matter.

Hor. Nay, good my Lord.

Ham. It is but foolery; but it is ſuch a kinde of gain-giuing as would perhaps trouble a woman.

Hor. If your minde diſlike any thing, obey: I will force their repaire hither, and ſay you are not fit.

Ham. Not a whit, wee defie Augury; there's a ſpeciall Providence in the fall of a sparrow. If it be now, 'tis not to come: if it beenot to come, it will bee now: if it

be not now; yet it will come; the readinesſe is all, ſince no man ha's ought of what he leaues. What is't to leaue be-times?

Enter King, Queene, Laertes and Lords, with other Attendants with Foyles, and Gauntlets, a Table and Flagons of Wine on it.

Kin. Come Hamlet, come, and take this hand from me. Ham. Giue me your pardon Sir, I'ue done you wrong, But pardon not as you are a Gentleman.

This preſence knowes,

And you muſt needs haue heard how I am puniſt With fore diſtraſtion? What I haue done

That might your nature honour, and exception

Roughly awake, I heere proclaime was madneſſe: Was't Hamlet wrong'd *Laertes*? Neuer Hamlet.

If Hamlet from himselfe be tane away:

And when he's not himselfe, do's wrong *Laertes*,

Then Hamlet does it not, Hamlet denies it:

Who does it then? His Madneſſe? If't be so,

Hamlet is of the Faſtion that is wrong'd,

His madneſſe is poore Hamlets Enemi.

Sir, in this Audience,

Let my disclaiming from a purpòs'd euill,

Free me ſo farre in your moſt generous thoughts,

That I haue ſhot mine Arrow o're the house,

And hurt my Mother.

Laer. I am ſatisfied in Nature,

Whofe motive in this caſe ſhould ſirre me moſt

To my Reuenge. But in my terms of Honor

I ſtand aloofe, and will no reconcilement,

Till by ſome elder Maſters of knowne Honor,

I haue a voyce, and preſident of peace

To keepe my name vngorg'd. But till that time,

I do receiue your offer'd loue like loue,

And will not wrong it.

Ham. I do embrace it freely,

And will this Brothers wager frankly play.

Giue vs the Foyles: Come on.

Laer. Come one for me.

Ham. Ile be your foile *Laertes*, in mine ignorance,

Your Skill ſhall like a Starre i'th'darkeſt night,

Sticke ſiery off indeede.

Laer. You mocke me Sir.

Ham. No by this hand,

King. Giue them the Foyles yong *Ofricke*,

Couſen Hamlet, you know the wager.

Ham. Verie well my Lord,

Your Grace hath laide the oddes a'th'weaker ſide.

King. I do not feare it,

I haue ſeene you both:

But ſince he is better'd, we haue therefore oddes.

Laer. This is too heavy,

Let me see another.

Ham. This likes me well,

Theſe Foyles haue all a length.

Prepares to play.

Ofricke. I my good Lord.

King. Set me the Stopes of wine vpon that Table:

If Hamlet giue the firſt, or ſecond hit,

Or quit in anſwer of the third exchange,

Let all the Battlements their Ordinance fire,

The King ſhal drinke to Hamlets better breath,

And in the Cup an vnion ſhal he throw

Richer then that, which ſoure ſuccesſive Kings

In Denmarkes Crowne haue worne.

Giue

The Tragedie of Hamlet.

280

That Refincrauce and Guildensterne are dead:
Where should we haue our thankes?

Hor. Not from his mouth,
Had it th'abilitie of life to thanke you :
He neuer gaue command'ment for their death.
But since I oiumpe vpon this bloodie question,
You from the Polake warres, and you from England
Are heere arriued. Giue order that these bodies
High on a flage be placed to the view,
And let me speake to th'yet vnknowing world,
How these things came about. So shall you heare
Of carnall, bloudie, and vnnatural acts,
Of accidentall iudgements, cauall slaughters
Of death's put on by cunning, and fore'd cause,
And in this vpshot, purpotes miftooke,
Falne on the Inuentors heads. All this can I
Truly deliuer.

For. Let vs haft to heare it,
And call the Nobleft to the Audience.
For me, with sorrow, I embrace my Fortune,
I haue some Rites of memory in this Kingdome,

Which are ro claime, my vantage doth
Inuite me,

Hor. Of that I shall haue alwayse cause to speake,
And from his mouth

Whose voyce will draw on more:
But let this fame be presently perform'd,
Euen whiles mens mindes are wilde,
Left more mischance

On plots, and errors happen.

For. Let foure Captaines
Beare Hamlet like a Soldier to the Stage,
For he was likely, had he beene put on

To haue prou'd most royally :

And for his paflage,
The Souldiours MusiCKe, and the rites of Warre
Speake lowdly for him.

Take vp the body; Such a fight as this
Becomes the Field, but heere shewes much annis.

Go, bid the Souldiers shoot.

Exeunt Marching after the which, a Penale of
Ordenance are shot off.

FINIS.

["The Tragedie of King Lear.", "284", "Cor. Nothing.", "Lear. Nothing will come of nothing, fpeake againe.", "Cor. Vnhappie that I am, I cannot heae", "My heart into my mouth: I loue your Maieſty\nAccording to my bond, no more nor leſſe.", "Lear. How, how Cordelia? Mend your ſpeech a little,\nLeaſt you may marre your Fortunes.", "Cor. Good my Lord,", "You haue begot me, bred me, lou'd me.", "I returne those duties backe as are right fit,", "Obey you, Loue you, and moſt Honour you.", "Why haue my Sifters Husbands, if they ſay", "They loue you all ? Happily when I ſhall wed,", "That Lord, whose hand muſt take my plight, ſhall carry", "Halfe my loue with him, halfe my Care, and Dutie,", "Sure I ſhall neuer marry like my Sifters.", "Lear. But goes thy heart with this?", "Cor. I my good Lord.", "Lear. So young, and so vntender?", "Cor. So young my Lord, and true.", "Lear. Let it be so, thy truth then be thy dowre:", "For by the ſacred radience of the Sunne,", "The miſeries of Heccat and the night:", "By all the operation of the Orbes,", "From whom we do exiſt and ceaſe to be,", "Heere I diſclaine all my Paternall care,", "Propinquity and property of blood,", "And as a ſtranger to my heart and me,", "Hold thee from this for euer. The barbarous Scythian,", "Or he that makes his generation meſſes", "To gorge his appetite, ſhall to my boſome", "Be as well neighbour'd, pittied, and releeu'd,", "As thou my ſometime Daughter.", "Kent. Good my Liege.", "Lear. Peace Kent,", "Come not betweene the Dragon and his wrath,", "I lou'd her moſt, and thought to let my reſt", "On her kind nurfery. Hence and avoid my fight:", "So be my graue my peace, as here I giue", "Her Fathers heart from her; call France, who stirres?", "Call Burgundy, Cornwall, and Albanie,", "With my two Daughters Dowres, digeſt the third,", "Let pride, which ſhe cals plainneſſe, marry her:", "I doe inueſt you ioyntly with my power,", "Preheminence, and all the large effects", "That troope with Maieſty. Our ſelbe by Monthly course,", "With reſeruation of an hundred Knights,", "By you to be ſuſtain'd, ſhall our abode", "Make with you by due turne, onely we ſhall recaine", "The name, and all th' addition to a King : the Sway,", "Reuennew. Execution of the reſt,", "Beloued Sonnes be yours, which to confirme,", "This Coronet part betweene you.", "Kent. Royall Lear,", "Whom I haue euer honor'd as my King,", "Lou'd as my Father, as my Maſter follow'd,", "As my great Patron thought on in my priaeers.", "Le. The bow is bent & drawne, make from the ſhaft.", "Kent. Let it fall rather, though the forke inuade", "The region of my heart, be Kent vnmannerly,", "When Lear is mad, what wouldeſt thou do old man?", "Think it thou that dutie ſhall haue dread to ſpeake,", "When power to flattery bowes?", "To plainneſſe honour's bound,", "When Maieſty falls to folly, reſerue thy ſtate,", "And in thy beſt consideration checke", "This hideous rafhneſſe, anſwere my life, my iudgement:", "Thy yongest Daughter do's not loue thee leaſt,", "Nor are those empty hearted, whose low ſounds", "Reuerbe no hollowneſſe.", "Lear. Kent, on thy life no more.", "Kent. My life I neuer held but as pawne", "To wage againſt thine enemiés, nere ſeare to loose it,", "Thy safety being motiue.", "Lear. Out of my fight,", "Kent. See better Lear, and let me ſtill remaine", "The true blanke of thine eie.", "Kear. Now by Apollo,", "Lent. Now by Apollo, King", "Thou ſwear, ſt thy Gods in vaine.", "Lear. O Vaffall! Miſcreant.", "Alb. Cor. Desre Sir forbeare.", "Kent. Kill thy Phyſition, and thy ſee beſlow", "Vpon the foule diſeafe, reuoke thy guift,", "Or whilſt I can vent clamour from my throate,", "Ile tell thee thou dolt euill.", "Lea. Heare me recreant, on thine allegiance heare me;", "That thou haſt ſought to make vs breake our vowes,", "Which we durſt neuer yet; and with it rain'd pride,", "To come betwixt our ſentences, and our power,", "Which, nor our nature, nor our place can beare:", "Our potencie made good, take thy reward.", "Fiuſe dayes we do allot thee for prouſion,", "To ſhield thee from diſaſters of the world,", "And on the fixt to turne thy hated backe", "Vpon our kingdome; if on the tenth day following,", "Thy baniſt trunke be found in our Dominions,", "The moment is thy death, away. By Iupiter,", "This (haſt not be reuok'd,", "Kent. Fare thee well King, ſuch thus thou wilt appeare,", "Freedome liues hence, and baniſment is here;", "The Gods to their deere ſhelter take thee Maid,", "That iuſtly think it, and haſt moſt rightly ſaid:", "And your large ſpeeches, may your deeds approue,", "That good effects may ſpring from words of loue:", "Thus Kent, O Princes, bids you all adew,", "Hee'l ſhape his old course, in a Country new.", "Flourish. Enter Glofter with France, and Bur-\ngundy, Attendants.", "Cor. Heere's France and Burgundy, my Noble Lord.", "Lear. My Lord of Bugundie,", "We firſt addreſſe to ward you, who with this King", "Hath riuald for our Daughters; what in the leaſt", "Will you require in preent Dower with her,", "Or ceaſe your queſt of Loue?", "Bur. Moſt Royall Maieſty,", "I craue no more then hath your Highneſſe offer'd,", "Nor will you tender leſſe?", "Lear. Right Noble Burgundy,", "When ſhe was deare to vs, we did hold her ſo,", "But now her price is fallen: Sir, there ſhe stands,", "If ought within that little ſeeming ſubtance,", "Or all of it with our diſ

The Tragedie of King Lear.

Bur. Pardon me Royall Sir,

Election makes not vp in such conditions.

Le. Then leaue her fir, for by the powre that made me,
I tell you all her wealth. For you great King,
I would not from your loue make luch a flyray,
To match you where I hate, therefore be feech you
T'auert your liking a more worthier way,
Then on a wretch whom Nature is afham'd
Almoft t'acknowledge hers.

Fra. This is moft strange,
That she whom euen but now, was your obieat,
The argument of your praife, balme of your age,
The beſt, the deereſt, should in this trice of time
Commit a thing so monſtrous, to diſmangle
So many folds of fauour: ſure her offence
Mauſt be of ſuch vnnaurall degree,
That monſters it: Or your fore-voycht affection
Fall into taint, which to beleeue of her
Mauſt be a faith that reaſon without miracle
Should neuer plant in me.

Cor. I yet beſeech your Maicely,
If for I want that glib and oylie Art,
To ſpeak and purpose not, ſince what I will intend,
I deot before I ſpeake, that you make knowne
It is no vicious blot, murtherer, or ſouleneſſe,
No vnchafte aſſion or diſhonoured ſep
That hath depriu'd me of your Grace and ſavour,
But euen for want of that, for which I am richer,
A ſill soliciting eye, and ſuch a tongue,
That I am glad I haue not, though not to haue it,
Hath loſt me in your liking.

Lear. Better thou haſt it,
Not beene borne, then not to haue pleas'd me better.

Fra. Is it but this? A tardineſſe in nature,
Which often leaues the hiftory vnſpoke
That it intends to do : my Lord of Burgundie,
What ſay you to the Lady ? Loue's not loue
When it is mingled with regards, that ſlands
Alooſe from th'intire point, will you haue her ?
She is herſelfe a Dowrie.

Bur. Royall King,
Gue but that portion which your ſelfe propos'd,
And here I take Cordelia by the hand,
Dutchefſe of Burgundie.

Lear. Nothing, I haue ſworne, I am firme.
Bur. I am sorry then you haue so loft a Father,
That you muſt looke a husband.

Cor. Peace be with Burgundie,
Since that reſpect and Fortunes are his loue,
I shall not be his wife.

Fra. Faireſt Cordelia, that art moſt rich beinge poore,
Moſt choife forſaken, and moſt lou'd defpis'd,
Thee and thy vertues here I ſeize vpon,
Be it lawfull I take vp what's caſt away.
Gods, Gods! 'Tis ſtrange, that from their cold'ſt neglect
My Loue should kindle to enflam'd reſpect.
Thy dowreleſſe Daughter King, throwne to my chance,
Is ſoome of vs, of ours, and our faire France:
Not all the Dukes of watrifh Burgundie,
Can buy this vnpriz'd precious Maid of me.
Bid them farewell Cordelia, though vnkinde,
Thou looſe here a better where to finde.

Lear. Thou haſt her France, let her be thine, for we
Have no ſuch Daughter, nor ſhall euer ſee
That face of hers againe, therefore be gone,
Without our Grace, our Loue, our Benizon:

Come Noble Burgundie, Florinſor, Exeunt.

Fra. Bid farwell to your Sifters.
Cor. The Jewels of our Father, with wath'd eie s
Cordelia leaues you, I know you what you are,
And like a Sifter am moſt loth to call
Your faults as they are named, Loue well our Father:
To your proſeſed boſomes I commit him,
But yet alas, ſtood I within his Grace,
I would prefer him to a better place,
So farewell to you both.

Regn. Preferibe not vs our dutie.
Gon. Let your ſtudy
Be to content your Lord, who hath receiu'd you
At Fortunes almes, you haue obedience ſcanted,
And well are worth the want that you haue wanted.
Cor. Time shall vnfold what plighted cunning hides,
Who couers faults, at laſt with ſhame derides:
Well may you proſper.

Fra. Come my faire Cordelia. Exit France and Cor.
Gon. Sifter, it is not little I haue to ſay,
Of what moſt neerely appertaines to vs both,
I thinke our Father will hence to night.
Cor. That's moſt certaine, and with you: next moneth
Gon. You fee how full of changes his age is, the ob-
feruation we haue made of it hath beene little: he alwaies
lou'd my Sifter moſt, and with what poore judgement he
hath now caſt her off, appeares too groſſely.
Reg. 'Tis the infirmity of his age, yet he hath euer but
flenderly knowne himselfe.

Gon. The beſt and foundeſt of his time hath bin but
raſh, then muſt we looke from his age, to receiue not a-
lone the imperfections of long ingraſſed condition, but
therewithall the vntuly way-wardeneſſe, that inſirme and
cholericke yeares bring with them.
Reg. Such vnconſtant starts are we like to haue from
him, as this of Kent's banifhment.

Gon. There is further complement of leaue-taking be-
tweene France and him, pray you let vs fit together, if our
Father carry authority with ſuch diſpoſition as he beares,
this laſt ſurrender of his will but offend vs.
Reg. We shall further thinke of it.

Gon. We muſt do ſomething, and i'th' heate. Exeunt.
Reg. The beſt and foundeſt of his time hath bin but
raſh, then muſt we looke from his age, to receiue not a-
lone the imperfections of long ingraſſed condition, but
therewithall the vntuly way-wardeneſſe, that inſirme and
cholericke yeares bring with them.
Reg. Such vnconſtant starts are we like to haue from
him, as this of Kent's banifhment.

Gon. We muſt do ſomething, and i'th' heate. Exeunt.
Reg. We shall further thinke of it.

## Scena Secunda.

Enter Baſſard.

Baſſ. Thou Nature art my Goddeſſe, to thy Law
My ſeruices are bound, wherefore should I
Stand in the plague of cuſtome, and permit
The curiety of Nations, to depriue me?
For that I am ſome twelue, or fourteene Moonſhines
Lag of a Brother? Why Baſſard? Wherefore bafe ?
When my Dimenſions are as well compaſſ,
My minde as generous, and my shape as true
As honeſt Madams illue ? Why brand they vs
With Bafe? With bafe ſtandie ? Bafe, Bafe ?
Who in the luſtie fealth of Nature, take
More compoſition, and fierce qualitie,
Then doth within a dull ſale tyred bed
Goe to th'creating a whole tribe of Fops
Got'tweene a ſleepe, and wake? Well then,
Legitimate Edgar, I muſt haue your land,

Who in the luſtie fealth of Nature, take
More compoſition, and fierce qualitie,
Then doth within a dull ſale tyred bed
Goe to th'creating a whole tribe of Fops
Got'tweene a ſleepe, and wake? Well then,
Legitimate Edgar, I muſt haue your land,
Our Farthers loue, is to the Baſſard Edmond,
As to th'legitimate: fine word: Legitimate.

qq 3

Well

["The Tragedie of King Lear.", "Well, my Legittimate, if this Letter speed,\nAnd my inuention thrive, Edmond the bafe\nShall to'th'Legittimate: I grow, I prosper:\nNow Gods, stand vp for Baftards.", "*Enter Gloucester.*", "Glo. Kent banifh'd thus? and France in choller parted ?\nAnd the King gone to night? Preferib'd his powre,\nConfin'd to exhibition? All this done\nVpon the gad? Edmond, how now? What newes?", "Baft. So pleafe your Lordthip, none.", "Glon. Why fo earneſtly feeke you to put vp y` Letter ?", "Baſt. I know no newes, my Lord.", "Glon. What Paper were you reading?", "Baſt. Nothing my Lord.", "Glon. No? what needed then that terrible dispatch of\nit into your Pocket ? The quality of nothing, hath not\nfuch neede to hide it ſelfe. Let's fee : come, if it bee no-\nthing, I ſhall not neede ſpectacles.", "Baſt. I beſeech you Sir, pardon mee; it is a Letter\nfrom my Brother, that I haue not all ore-read; and for ſo\nmuch as I haue perus'd, I finde it not fit for your ore-loo-\nking.", "Glon. Giue me the Letter, Sir.", "Baſt. I ſhall offend, either to detaine, or giue it :\nThe Contents, as in part I vnderstand them,\nAre too blame.", "Glon. Let's fee, let's fee.", "Baſt. I hope for my Brothers inſtification, hee wrote\nthis but as an eſſay, or taſte of my Vertue.", "Glon. reads. This policie, and reuerence of Age, makes the\nworld bitter to the beſt of our times: keepes our Fortunes from\nvs, till our oldneſſe cannot rellish them. I begin to finde an idle\nand found bondage, in the oppreſſion of aged tyranny, who ſwayes\nnot as it hath power, but as it is ſuffer'd. Come to me, that of\nthis I may ſpeak more. If our Father would sleepe till I wak'd\nhim, you should enioy halſe his Reuennew for euer, and line the\nbeloued of your Brother.", "Edgar.", "Hum? Conſpiracy? Sleepe till I wake him, you ſhould\nenioy halſe his Reuennew: my Sonne Edgar, had hee a\nhand to write this? A heart and braine to breede it in?\nWhen came you to this? Who brought it?", "Baſt. It was not brought mee, my Lord; there's the\ncunning of it. I found it throwne in at the Cafement of\nmy Cloſſet.", "Glon. You know the character to be your Brothers?", "Baſt. If the matter were good my Lord, I durſt ſwear\nit were his: but in reſpect of that, I would faine thinke it\nwere not.", "Glon. It is his.", "Baſt. It is his hand, my Lord: but I hope his heart is\nnot in the Contents.", "Glo. Has he neuer before founded you in this buſines?", "Baſt. Neuer my Lord. But I haue heard him oft main-\ntaine it to be fit, that Sonnes at perſect age, and Fathers\ndeclin'd, the Father ſhould bee as Ward to the Son, and\nthe Sonne manage his Reuennew.", "Glon. O Villain, villain: his very opinion in the Let-\nter. Abhorred Villaine, vnnaturall, detefted, brutiſh\nVillaine; worse then brutiſh: Go firrah, feeke him: Ile\napprehend him. Abhominable Villaine, where is he?", "Baſt. I do not well know my L. If it ſhall please you to\nſuspend your indignation againſt my Brother, til you can\nderiue from him better ſeſtimony of his intent, you ſhould\nrun a certaine course : where, if you violently proceed a-\ngainſt him, miſtaking his purpofe, it would make a great\ngap in your owne Honor, and ſhake in peeces, the heart of", "his obedience. I dare pawne downe my life for him, that\nhe hath writ this to feele my affection to your Honor, &\nto no other pietence of danger.", "Glon. Thinke you fo?", "Baſt. If your Honor iudge it meere, I will place you\nwhere you ſhall heare vs conferre of this, and by an Auri-\ncular affurance haue your ſatisfaction, and that without\nany further delay, then this very Euening.", "Glon. He cannot bee ſuch a Monſter. Edmond feeke\nhim out: winde me into him, I pray you: frame the Bu-\nſineſſe after your owne wifedome. I would vnſtate my\nſelfe, to be in a due reſolution.", "Baſt. I will feeke him Sir, preſently: convey the bu-\nſineſſe as I ſhall find meanes, and acquaint you withall.", "Glon. Theſe late Eclipſes in the Sun and Moone por-\ntend no good to vs: though the wifedome of Nature can\nreafon it thus, and thus, yet Nature finds it ſelfe ſeuring'd\nby the ſequent effects. Loue cooles, friendship falls off,\nBrothers diuide. In Cities, mutinies; in Countries, di-\ncord; in Pallaces, Treaſon; and the Bond crack'd, 'twixt\nSonne and Father. This villaine of mine comes vnder the\nprediction; there's Son againſt Father, the King falls from\nbyas of Nature, there's Father againſt Childe. We haue\nſeene the beſt of our time. Machinations, hollowneſſe,\ntreacherie, and all ruinous diſorders follow vs diſquictly\nto our Graues. Find out this Villain, Edmond, it ſhall lobe\nthee nothing, do it carefully: and the Noble & true-har-\nted Kent banifh'd; his offence, honeſty. Tis ſtrange. Exit", "Baſt. This is the excellent foppyre of the world, that\nwhen we are ſicke in fortune, often the ſurſets of our own\nbehauiour, we make guilty of our diſafters, the Sun, the\nMoone, and Starres, as if we were villaines on neceſſe,\nFooles by heauenly compulſion, Knaues, Theeues, and\nTreachers by Spherical predominance. Drunkards, Ly-\nars, and Adulterers by an inſor'd obedience of Planatai\ninſtance; and all that we are euill in, by a diuine thru-\nſting on. An admiraſble euafion of. Whore-maſter-man,\nto lay his Goatiſh diſpoſition on the charge of a Starre,\nMy father compounded with my mother vnder the Dra-\ngons taile, and my Natiuity was vnder Vrſa Maior, ſo\nthat it followes, I am rough and Leacherous. I ſhould\nhaue bin that I am, had the maidenleft Starre in the Fir-\nmament twinkled on my baſtardizing.", "*Enter Edgar.*", "Pat: he comes like the Cataſtrophe of the old Comedie:\nmy Cue is villanous Melancholly, with a ſighe like Tom\no'Bedlam. — O theſe Eclipſes do portend theſe diu-\nſions. Fa, Sol, La, Me.", "Ed. How now Brother Edmond, what ſerious con-\ntemplation are you in?", "Baſt. I am thinking Brother of a prediction I read this\nother day, what ſhould follow theſe Eclipſes.", "Ed. Do you buſe your ſelfe with that?", "Baſt. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I

The Tragedie of King Lear.

287

chiefe of your person, it would fearfully alay.

Ed. Some Villaine hath done me wrong.

Edm. That's my feare, I pray you haue a continent
forbearance till the speed of his rage goes flower: and as
I say, retire with me to my lodging, from whence I will
fieely bring you to heare my Lord I speake: pray ye goe,
there's my key: if you do furre abroad, goe arm'd.

Ed. Arm'd, Brother?

Edm. Brother, I aduise you to the best, I am no honest
man, if there be any good meaning toward you: I haue told
you what I haue seene, and heard: But fairly. Nothing
like the image, and horror of it, pray you away.

Ed. Shall I heare from you anon?

Exit.

Edm. I do ferue you in this buſinesse:
A Credulous Father, and a Brother Noble,
Whole nature is so farre from doing harmes,
That he ſuppects none: on whose foolſis honestie
My præſtifes ride eafe: I fee the buſinesse.
Let me, if not by birth, haue lands by wit,
All with me's meete, that I can fashion fit.

Exit.

## Scena Tertia.

Enter Gonerill, and Steward.

Gon. Did my Father strike my Gentleman for chid
ing of his Foole?

Ste. I Madam.

Gon. By day and night, he wrongs me, every howre
He flashes into one groſse crime, or other,
That lets vs all at ods: Ile not endure it;
His Knights grow riotous, and himselfe vpbraides vs
On every trifle. When he returns from hunting,
I will not ſpeake with him, say I am ſicke,
If you come flacke of former ſeruices,
You shall do well, the fault of it I can anſwer.

Ste. He's comming Madam, I heare him.

Gon. Put on what weary negligence you pleaſe,
You and your Fellows: I'de haue it come to queſtions,
If he diſaſte it, let him to my Sifter,
Whole mind and mine I know in that are one,
Remember what I haue faid.

Ste. Well Madam.

Gon. And let his Knights haue colder looks among
you: what growes of it no matter, aduise your fellowes
ſo, Ile write ſtraight to my Sifter to hold my course; pre-
pare for dinner.

Exeunt.

## Scena Quarta.

Enter Kent.

Kent. If but as will I other accents borrow,
That can my speech defuse, my good intent
May carry through it ſelfe to that full ill ſue
For which I raiz'd my likeneſſe. Now banifit Kent,
If thou canſt ſerue where thou doſt stand condemn'd,
So may it come, thy Maſter whom thou louſt,
Shall find thee full of labours.

Harnes within, Enter Lear and Attendants.

Lear. Let me not flay a iot for dinner, go get it rea-
dy: hownow, what art thou?

Kent. A man Sir.

Lear. What doſt thou proſeſſe? What wouldst thou with vs?

Kent. I do proſeſſe to be no leſſe then I ſeeme; to ſerue
him truely that will put me in trust, to loue him that is
honest, to converſe with him that is wife and faies little, to
ſeare iudgement, to fight when I cannot choose, and to
eate no fifth.

Lear. What art thou?

Kent. A very honest hearted Fellow, and as poore as
the King.

Lear. If thou be't as poore for a ſubieſt, as hee's for a
King, thou art poore enough. What wouldst thou?

Kent. ſeruice.

Lear. Who wouldſt thou ſerue?

Kent, You.

Lear. Do't thou know me ſellow?

Kent. No Sir, but you haue that in your countenance,
which I would faire call Maſter.

Lear. What's that?

Kent. Authority.

Lear. What ſeruices canſt thou do?

Kent. I can keepe honest counſaille, ride, run, marre a
curious tale in telling it, and deliver a plaine meſſage
bluntly : that which ordinary men are fit for, I am qual-
lified in, and the beſt of me, is Dilligence.

Lear. How old art thou?

Kent. Not ſo young Sir to loue a woman for ſinging,
nor ſo old to dote on her for any thing. I haue yeares on
my backe forty eight.

Lear. Follow me, thou ſhalt ſerue me, if I like thee no
worſe after dinner, I will not part from thee yet. Dinner
ho, dinner, where's my knaue to my Foole? Go you and call
my Foole hither. You you Sirrah, where's my Daughter?

Enter Steward.

Ste. So please you —

Exit.

Lear. What faies the Fellow there? Call the Clot-
pole backe: wher's my Foole? Ho, I thinke the world's
aſleepe, how now? Where's that Mungrell?

Kngh. He faies my Lord, your Daughters is not well.

Lear. Why came not the ſlaue backe to me when I
call'd him?

Kngh. Sir, he anſwered me in the roundeſt manner, he
would not.

Lear. He would not?

Knight. My Lord, I know not what the matter is,
but to my iudgement your Highneſſe is not entertain'd
with that Ceremonious affection as you were wont,
there's a great abatement of kindneſſe appears as well in
the generall dependants, as in the Duke himselfe alſo, and
your Daughter.

Lear. Ha? Saſt thou ſo?

Kngh. I beſeech you pardon me my Lord, if I bee
miffaken, for my duty cannot be ſilent, when I thinke
your Highneſſe wrong'd.

Lear. Thou but remembreſt me of mine owne Con-
ception, I haue receiued a meſt faint neglect of late,
which I haue rather blamed as mine owne jealous curio-
ſtie, then as a very pretence and purpole of vnkindneſſe;
I will looke further into't: but, where's my Poole ? I
haue not ſeene him this two daies.

Knight. Since my young Ladies going into France

Sir,

288

The Tragedie of King Lear.

Sir, the Foole hath much pined away.

Lear. No more of that, I haue noted it well, goe you and tell my Daughter, I would speake with her. Goe you call hither my Foole; Oh you Sir, you, come you hither Sir, who am I Sir?

*Enter Steward.*

Ste. My Ladies Father.

Lear. My Ladies Father? my Lords knaue, you whom dog, you flaue, you curre.

Ste. I am none of these my Lord,
I beleech your pardon.

Lear. Do you bandy lookes with me, you Rascall?

Ste. ile not be trucken my Lord.

Kent. Nor tript neither, you baie Foot-ball plaier.

Lear. I thanke thee fellow.

Thou feru't me, and lie loue thee.

Kent. Come fir, arife, away, Ile teach you differences: away, away, if you will meaure your lubbers length a-gaine, tarry, but away, gor too, haue you wifedome, so.

Lear. Now my friendly knaue I thanke thee, there's
carnest of thy feruice.

*Enter Foole.*

Foole. Let me hire him too, here's my Coxcombe.

Lear. How now my pretty knaue, how doft thou?

Foole. Sirrah, you were beft take my Coxcombe.

Lear. Why my Boy ?

Foole. Why? for taking ones part that's out of favour,
nay, & thou canst not smile as the wind fits, thou'lt catch
colde shortly, there take my Coxcombe; why this fellow
ha's banish'd two on's Daughters, and did the third a
bleffing against his will, if thou follow him, thou must
needs weare my Coxcombe. How now Nunckle? would
I had two Coxcombes and two Daughters.

Lear. Why my Boy ?

Fool. If I gaue them all my liuing, I'd keepe my Cox-
combes my selfe, there's mine, beg another of thy
Daughters.

Lear. Take heed Sirrah, the whip.

Foole. Truth's a dog must to kennell, hee must bee
whipt out, when the Lady Brach may stand by't; fire
and flinke.

Lear. A peftilent gail to me.

Foole. Sirha, Ile teach thee a speech.

Lear. Do.

Foole. Marke it Nuncle;

Haue more then thou showe't,
Speake leffe then thou knowe't,
Lend leffe then thou owe't,
Ride more then thou goe't,
Learne more then thou trowe't,
Set leffe then thou throwe't;
Leaue thy drinke and thy whore,
And keepe in a dore,
And thou shall haue more,
Then two tens to a score.

Kent. This is nothing Foole.

Foole. Then 'tis like the breath of an vnfeed Lawyer,
you gave me nothing for't, can you make no vse of no-
thing Nuncle ?

Lear. Why no Boy,

Nothing can be made out of nothing.

Foole. Pryeshe tell him, so much the rent of his land
comes to, he will not beleeue a Foole.

Lear. A bitter Foole.

Foole. Do't thou know the difference my Boy, be-
tweene a bitter Foole, and a sweet one.

Lear. No Lad, teach me.

Foole. Nunckle, giue me an egge, and Ile giue thee
two Crownes.

Lear. What two Crownes shall they be ?

Foole. Why alter I haue cut the egge i'th'middle and
eate vp the meate, the two Crownes of the egge: when
thou cloue't thy Crownes i'th'middle, and gau't away
both parts, thou boar't thine Affe on thy backe o're the
durt, thou had't little wit in thy bald crowne, when thou
gau't thy golden one away ; if I speake like my selfe in
this, let him be whipt that firſt findes it so.

Fooles had nere leſſe grace in a yeere,
For wifemen are growne foppish,
And know not how their wits to weare,
Their manners are ſo apifh.

Le. When were you wont to be so full of Songs ſirrah?

Foole. I haue vſed it Nunckle, ere since thou mad't
thy Daughters thy Mothers, for when thou gau't them
the rod, and put't downe thine owne breeches, then they
For fodaine ioy did weepe,
And I for forrow ſung,
That ſuch a King ſhould play bo-peepe,
And goe the Foole among.

Pry thy Nunckle keepe a Schoolemaſter that can teach
thy Foole to lie, I would taine leare to lie.

Lear. And you lie firrah, wee'l haue you whipt.

Foole. I maruell what kin thou and thy daughters are,
they'l haue me whipt for ſpeaking true: thou'lt haue me
whipt for lying, and sometimes I am whipt for holding
my peace. I had rather be any kind o'thing then a foole,
and yet I would not be thee Nunckle, thou haſt pared thy
wit o'both sides, and left nothing i'th'middle; heree
comes one o'the parings.

*Enter Gonerill.*

Lear. How now Daughters? what makes that Frontlet
on? You are too much of late i'th'frowne.

Foole. Thou waſt a pretty fellow when thou hadst no
need to care for her frowning, now thou art an O with-
out a figure, I am better then thou art now, I am a Foole,
thou art nothing. Yes for ſooth I will hold my tongue, for
your face bids me, though you ſay nothing.
Mum, mum, he that keeps not cruſt, not crum,
Weary of all, ſhall want ſome. That's a ſheal'd Pefcod.

Gon. Not only Sir this, your all-ly cenc'd Foole,
But other of your insolent retinue
Do hourly Carpe and Quarrell, breaking forth
In ranke, and (not to be endur'd) riots Sir.
I had thought by making this well knowne vnto you,
To haue found a ſafe redreſſe, but now grow ſcarefull
By what your ſelfe too late haue ſpoke and done,
That you protea't this courſe, and put it on
By your allowance, which if you should, the ſault
Would not ſcape cenſure, nor the redreſſe ſleepe,
Which in the tender of a wholeſome weale,
Might in their working do you that oſence,
Which eſſe were ſhame, that then neceſſitie
Will call diſcreet proceeding.

Foole. For you know Nunckle, the Hedge-Sparrow
fed the Cuckoo so long, that it's had it head bit off by it
young, so out went the Candle, and we were left dark-
ling.

Lear. Are you our Daughter ? (dome

Gon. I would you would make vſe of your good wile,
(Whereof I know you are fraught) and put away
These diſpositions, which of late tranport you
From what you rightly are.

Fool, M v

The Tragedie of King Lear.

289

Foole. May not an Affe know, when the Cart drawes
the Horfe?

Whoop Iugge I loue thee.

Lear. Do's any heere know me?

This is not Lear :

Do's Lear walke thus? Speake thus? Where are his eies?

Either his Notion weakens, his Discernings

Are Lethargied. Ha! Waking ? 'Tis not so.

Who is it that can tell me who I am ?

Foole. Lears shadow.

Lear. Your name, faire Gentlewoman?

Gon. This admiration Sir, is much o'th'favour

Of other your new prankes. I do befeech you

To vnderstand my purpores asight :

As you are Old, and Reuerend, should be Wife.

Heere do you keepe a hundred Knights and Squires,

Men so disordered, so debofh'd, and bold,

That this our Court infected with their manners,

Shewes like a riotous Inne; Epicuriforme and Luft

Makes it more like a Tauerne, or a Brothell,

Then a grac'd Pallace. The shame it selfe doth speake

For instant remedy. Be then deft'd

By her, that elle will take the thing she begges,

A little to disquantity your Traine,

And the remainders that shall still depend,

To be such men as may before your Age,

Which know the selfeles, and you.

Lear. Darkneſſe, and Diuels.

Saddle my horſes : call my Traine together.

Degenerate Baſtard, Ile not trouble thee ;

Yet haue I left a daughter.

Gon. You strike my people, and your disordered rable,
make Servants of their Betters.

Enter Albany.

Lear. Woe, that too late repents :

Is it your will, ſpeake Sir ? Prepare my Horſes.

Ingratitude ! thou Marble-hearted Fiend,

More hideous when thou ſhew't thee in a Child,
Then the Sea-monster.

Alb. Pray Sir be patient.

Lear. Detested Kite, thou lyeſt.

My Traine are men of choice, and rareſt parts,

That all particulars of dutie know,

And in the moſt exact regard, ſupport

The worſhips of their name. O moſt small fault,

How vgly did't thou in Cordelia ſhew ?

Which like an Engine, wrencht my frame of Nature

From the fixt place: drew from my heart all loue,

And added to the gall. O Lear, Lear, Lear!

Beate at this gate that let thy Folly in,

And thy deere Iudgement out. Go, go, my people.

Alb. My Lord, I am guiltleſſe, as I am ignorant
Of what hath moued you.

Lear. It may be so, my Lord.

Heare Nature, heare deere Goddeſſe, heare :

Suspend thy purpofe, if thou did't intend

To make this Creature fruitfull:

Into her Wombe conuey ſtritility,

Drie vp in her the Organs of increase,

And from her derogate body, neuer ſpring

A Babe to honor her. If she muſt teeme,

Create her childe of Spleene, that it may lue

And be a thwart disnatur'd corment to her.

Let it ſtampie wrinkles in her brow of youth,

With cadent Teares fret Channels in her cheekes,

Turne all her Mothers paines, and benefits

To laughter, and contempt: That ſhe may feele,

How ſharper then a Serpents tooth it is,

To haue a thankleſſe Childde. Away, away.

Alb. Now Gods that we adore,

Whereof comes this?

Gon. Neuer afflіct your ſelfe to know more of it :

But let his diſpoſition haue that ſcope

As dotage giues it.

Enter Lear.

Lear. What fiftie of my Followers at a clap ?

Within a fortnight?

Alb. What's the matter, Sir?

Lear. Ile tell thee:

Life and death, I am afham'd

That thou haſt power to ſhake my manhood thus,

That these hot teares, which breake from me perſorce

Should make thee worth them.

Blaſtes and Fogges vpon thee :

Th' ventented woundings of a Fathers curſe

Pierce euerie ſenſe about thee. Old fond eyes,

Beweepe this cauſe againe, Ile plucke ye out,

And caſt you with the waters that you looie

To temper Clay. Ha? Let it be so.

I haue another daughter,

Who I am ſure is kinde and comfortable :

When ſhe shall heare this of thee, with her nailles

Shee'le fleathy Woluſh ſillage. Thou ſhalt finde,

That Ile ſeume the ſhape which thou doſt thinke

I haue caſt off for euer.

Gon. Do you marke that ?

Alb. I cannot be so partiall Gonerill,

To the great loue I beare you.

Gon. Pray you content. What Oſwald, hoa?

You Sir, more Knaue then Foole, after your Maſter.

Foole. Nunkle Lear, Nunkle Lear,

Tarry, take the Foole with thee:

A Fox, when one has caught her,

And such a Daughter,

Should ſure to the Slaughter,

If my Cap would buy a Halter,

So the Foole followes after.

Gon. This man hath had good Counſell,

A hundred Knights?

Tis politike, and ſafe to let him keepe

Atpoint a hundred Knights: yes, that on euerie dreame,

Each buz, each fancie, each complaint, diſke,

He may enguard his dotage with their powres,

And ho'd our lives in mercy. Oſwald, I lay.

Alb. Well you may ſeare too farre.

Gon. Safer then truſt too farre;

Let me ſtill take away the hartines I ſeare,

Not ſeare ſtill to be taken. I know his heart,

What he hath vutter'd I haue writ my Sifter :

If he ſuſtaine him, and his hundred Knights

When I haue ſhew'd th' vnſitueſſe.

Enter Steward.

How now Oſwald?

What haue you writ that Letter to my Sifter ?

Siew. I Madam.

Gon. Take you ſome company, and away to Horſe,

Informe her full of my particular ſeare,

And thereto adde ſuch reaſons of your owne,

As may compact it more. Get you gone,

Exit

Exit

And

290

The Tragedie of King Lear.

And haften your returne; no, no, my Lord,
This milky gentlenesse, and course of yours
Though I condemne not, yet vnder pardon
Your are much more at task for want of wifedome,
Then prat'st for harmefull mildesse.

Alb. How farre your cies may pierce I cannot tell;
Striving to better, oft we marre what's well.

Gent. Nay then

Alb. Well, well, the uent.

Exeunt

## Scena Quinta.

Enter Lear, Kent, Gentleman, and Foole.

Lear. Go you before to Glester with these Letters;
acquaint my Daughter no further with any thing you
know, then comes from her demand out of the Letter,
if your Dilligence be not speedy, I shall be there afore
you.

Kent. I will not flee, my Lord, till I haue deliuered
your Letter.
Exit.

Foole. If a man's brains were in's heele, wert not in
danger of kybes?

Lear. I Boy.

Foole. Then I prythee be merry, thy wit shall not go
flip-flop.

Lear. Ha, ha, ha.

Foole. Shalt see thy other Daughter will vse thee kind-
ly, for though she's as like this, as a Crabbe's like an
Apple, yet I can tell what I can tell.

Lear. What canst tell Boy ?

Foole. She will taste as like this as, a Crabbe do's to a
Crab: thou canst tell why ones nofe stands i'th'middle
on's face?

Lear. No.

Foole. Why to keepe ones eyes of either fide's nofe,
that what a man cannot smell out, he may spy into.

Lear. I did her wrong.

Foole. Canst tell how an Oyfer makes his ſhell?

Lear. No.

Foole. Nor I neither; but I can tell why a Snaile ha's
a houfe.

Lear. Why?

Foole. Why to put's head in, not to giue it away to his
daughters, and leaue his hornes without a cafe.

Lear. I will forget my Nature, so kind a Father ? Be
my Horſes ready?

Foole. Thy Aſſes are gone about 'em; the reaſon why
the ſeuen Starres are no mo then ſeuen, is a pretty reaſon,

Lear. Because they are not eight.

Foole. Yes indeed, thou would'ſt make a good Foole.

Lear. To tak't againe perſorce; Monſter Ingratitude !

Foole. If thou wert my Foole Nunckle, I'd haue thee
beaten for being old before thy time.

Lear. How's that?

Foole. Thou shouldst not haue bin old, till thou hadst
bin wife.

Lear. O let me not be mad, not mad sweet Heauen:
keepe me in temper, I would not be mad. How now are
the Horſes ready?

Gent. Ready my Lord.

Lear. Come Boy.

Foole. She that's a Maid now, & laughs at my departure,
Shall not be a Maid long, vnleſſe things be cut ſhorter.
Exeunt.

## Actus Secundus. Scena Prima.

Enter Bастard, and Curran, generally.

Bast. Saue thee Curan.

Cur. And your Sir, I haue bin
With your Father, and giuen him notice
That the Duke of Cornwall, and Regan his Duchess
Will be here with him this night.

Bast. How comes that?

Cur. Nay. I know not, you haue heard of the newes a-
broad, I meane the whisper'd ones, for they are yet but
car-kiſſing arguments.

Bast. Not! pray you what are they?

Cur. Haue you heard of no likely Warres toward,
'Twixt the Dukes of Cornwall, and Albany?

Bast. Not a word.

Cur. You may do then in time,

Fare you well Sir.

Exit.

Bast. The Duke be here co night ? The better beſt,
This weaues it ſelfe perſorce into my busineſſe,
My Father hath ſet guard to take my Brother,
And I haue one thing of a queazie queſtion
Which I muſt aſt, Briefeſſe, and Fortune worke.

Enter Edgar.

Brother, a word, dideend Brother I ſay,
My Father watches: O Sir, fly this place,
Intelligence is giuen where you are hid;
You haue now the good aduantage of the night,
Haue you not ſpoken 'gainſt the Duke of Cornwall?

Hee's comming hither, now i'th' night, i'th' haſte,
And Regan with him, haue you nothing ſaid

Vpon his partie 'gainſt the Duke of Albany?
Aduife your ſelfe.

Ed. I am ſure on't, not a word.

Bast. I hcare my Father comming, pardon me:
In cunning, I muſt draw my Sword vpon you:
Draw, ſeeme to defend your ſelfe,
Now quit you well.

Yeeld, come before my Father, light hoa, here,
Fly Brother, Torches, Torches, so farewell.

Exit Edgar.

Some blood drawne on me, would beget opinion
Of my more fierce endeauour. Ihaue ſene drunkards
Do more then this in ſport; Father, Father,
Stop, ſtop, no helpe?

Enter Gleſſer, and Servants with Torches.

Glo. Now Edmund, where's the villaine?

Bast. Here flood he in the dark, his ſharpe Sword out,
Mumbling of wicked charmes, coniuring the Moone
To ſtand aufpicious Miftris.

Glo. But where is he?

Bast. Looke Sir, I bleed.

Glo. Where is the villaine, Edmund?

Bast. Fled this way Sir, when by no meanes he could.
Glo. Purſue him, ho; go after. By no meanes, what?

Bast. Perſwade me to the murther of your Lordship.

The Tragedie of King Lear.

291

But that I told him the reuenging God,
'Gainst Paricides did all the thunder bend,
Spoke with how manifold, and strong a Bond
The Child was bound to'th' Father; Sir in fine,
Seeing how lothly opposite I flood
To his vn natural purpose, in fell motion
With his prepared Sword, he charges home
My vaproued body, latch'd mine armes;
And when he saw my best alarum'd spirits
Bold in the quarrels right, youz'd to th' encounter,
Or whether gaf't by the noyse I made,
Full fodainely he fled.

Gloster. Let him fly farre:

Not in this Land shall he remaine uncaught
And found, dispatch, the Noble Duke my Master,
My worthy Arch and Patron comes to night,
By his authoritie I will proclaime it,
That he which finds him shall deferue our thankes,
Bringing the murderous Coward to the stake:
He that conceales him death.

Baſſ. When I diffused him from his intent,
And found him pight to do it, with curlt speech
I threaten'd to difcouer him; he replied,
Thou vnpoſſing Baſſard, doſt thou thinke,
If I would ſtand against thee, would the repofall
Of any truſt, vertue, or worth in thee
Make thy words faith'd to No, what ſhould I denie,
(As this I would, though thou didst produce
My very Character) I'd turne it all
To thy ſuggſetion, plot, and damned præſtife :
And thou muſt make a dullard of the world,
If they not thought the profits of my death
Were very pregnant and potentially ſpirits
To make thee feeke it.

Tucker within.

Glo. O ſtrange and faſtned Villaine,
Would he deny his Letter, ſaid he?
Harke, the Dukes Trumpets, I know not wher he comes;
All Ports Ile barre, the villaine shall not ſcape,
The Duke muſt grant me that: beſides, his picture
I will ſend farre and neere, that all the kingdome
May haue due note of him, and of my land,
(Loyall and naturall Boſ) Ile worke the meanes
To make thee capable.

Enter Corneall, Regan, and Attendants.

Corn. How now my Noble friend, ſince I came hither
(Which I can call but now,) I haue heard ſtrangeneſſe.

Reg. If it be true, all vengeance comes too ſhort
Which can purſue th'offender; how doſt my Lord?
Glo. O Madam, my old heart is crack'd, it's crack'd.
Reg. What, did my Fathers Godſonne feeke your life?
He whom my Father nam'd, your Edgar?

Glo. O Lady, Lady, ſhame would haue it hid.

Reg. Was he not companion with the riotous Knights
That tended upon my Father?

Glo. I know not Madam, 'tis too bad, too bad.

Baſſ. Yes Madam, he was of that comfort.

Reg. No maruaile then, though he were ill affected,
'Tis they haue put him on the old mans death,
To haue th'expence and waſt of his Reuenues:
I haue this present evening from my Sifter
Beene well inform'd of them, and with ſuch cautions,
That if they come to ſoioume at my house,
Ile not be there.

Corn. Nor I, affure thee Regan;

Edmund, I heare that you haue ſhewne yont Father
A Child-like Office,

Baſſ. It was my duty Sir.

Glo. He did bewray his præſtife, and recei'd
This hurt you, ſee, ſtriuing to apprehend him.

Cor. Is he purfued?

Glo. I my good Lord.

Cor. If he be taken, he shall neuer more
Be fear'd of doing harme, make your owne purpose,
How in my ſtrength you please: for you Edmund,
Whofe vertue and obedience doth this inſtant
So much commend it ſelfe, you ſhall be ours,
Nature's of ſuch deepe truſt, we shall much need:
You we firſt ſeize on.

Baſſ. I ſhall ſerue you Sir truely, how euer else.

Glo. For him I thanke you Grace.

Cor. You know not why we came to viſit you?

Reg. Thus out of ſeafon, thredding darke ey'd night,
Occations Noble Gloſer of ſome prize,
Wherein we muſt have vſe of your auſiſe.
Our Father he hath writ, so hath our Sifter,
Of differences, which I beſt though it ſit
To anſwere from our home: the ſeverall Melliſengers
From hence attend dispatch, our good old Friend,
Lay comforts to your boſome, and beſlow
Your needfull counſiſe to our businesſes,
Which craues the inſant vſe.

Glo. I ſerue you Madam,
Your Graces are right welcome.

Exeunt. Flourish.

## Scena Secunda.

Enter Kent, and Steward ſenerally.

Stew. Good dawning to thee Friend, art of this house?

Kent. I.

Stew. Where may we ſet our horſes?

Kent. I'ch'myre.

Stew. Prythee, if thou louſt me, tell me,

Kent. I loue thee not.

Stew. Why then I care not for thee.

Kent. If I had thee in Lipsbury Pinfold, I would make thee care for me.

Stew. Why doſt thou vſe me thus? I know thee not.

Kent. Fellow I know thee.

Stew. What doſt thou know me for?

Kent. A Knaue, a Rascall, an eater of broken meates, a
bafe, proud, ſhallow, beggerly, three-fuited-hundred
pound, filthy woofed-flocking knaue, a Lilly-liuered,
aſtion-taking, whoreſon glaſſe-gazing ſuper-ſeruicesable
ſinicall Rogue, one Trunke-inheriting ſlaue, one that
would'ſt be a Baud in way of good ſeruice, and art no-
thing but the compoſition of a Knaue, Begger, Coward,
Pandar, and the Sonne and Heire of a Mungrill Bitch,
one whom I will beate into clamours whining, if thou
deny'ſt the leaſt fillable of thy addition.

Stew. Why, what a monſtrous Fellow art thou, thus
to rail on one, that is neither knowne of thee, nor
knowest thee?

Kent. What a brazen fac'd Varlet art thou, to deny
thou knoweſt me ? Is it two dayes since I tript vp thy
heeleſ, and beate thee before the King? Draw you rogue,
for

The Tragedie of King Lear.

for though it be night,yet the Moone shines,He make a
fop oth' Moonshine of you, you whorefon Cullyenly
Barber-monger,draw.

Stew. Away, I haue nothing to do with thee.

Kent. Draw you Rafcall, you come with Letters a-gainſt the King;and take Vanitie the puppers part, a-gainſt the Royaltie of her Father : draw you Rogue, or Ile so carbonado your ſhanks, draw you Raſcall, come your waies,

Ste. Helpe,ho,murther,helpe.

Kent. Strike you ſlaue : Stand rogue, Stand you neat
ſlaue,ſtrike.

Stew. Helpe hoa,murther,murther.

Enter Baſtard, Cornewall, Regan, Gloſter, Seruants.

Baſt. How now,what's the matter ? Part.

Kent. With you goodman Boy, if you pleafe,come,
Ile ſlesh ye,come on yong Maſter.

Glo. Weapons? Armes ? what's the matter here ?

Cor. Keepe peace vpon your liues, he dies that strikes
againe,what is the matter ?

Reg. The Meſengers from our Sifter, and the King ?

Cor. What is your difference, ſpeake ?

Stew. I am ſcarce in breath my Lord.

Kent. No Maruell, you haue so beſtir'd your valour,
you cowardly Raſcall,nature diſelaines in thee:a Taylor
made thee.

Cor. Thou art a ſtrange ſellow, a Taylor make a man?

Kent. A Taylor Sir,a Stone-cutter,or a Painter, could not haue made him so ill, though they had bin but two yeares oth'trade.

Cor. Speake yet,how grew your quarrell?

Ste. This ancient Ruffian Sir, whose life I haue spar'd
at ſure of his gray-beard.

Kent. Thou whoreſon Zed, thou vnneceſſary letter:
my Lord, if you will giue me leaue, I will tread this vn-
boulted villaine into morter, and daube the wall of a
lakes with him. Spare my gray-beard,you wagtaile?

Cor. Peace firrah,

You beaſtly knaue,know you no reuerence?

Kent. Yes Sir,but anger hath a priuilege.

Cor. Why art thou angtie ?

Kent. That ſuch a ſlaue as this ſhould weare a Sword,
Who weares no honesty : ſuch ſmiling rogues as theſe,
Like Rats oft bite the holy cords at twaine,

Which are t'intrince, t'vnloofe : ſmoothe euery paffion

That in the natures of their Lords rebell,

Being oile to fire, snow to the colder moods,

Reuenge,affirme, and turne their Halcion beakes

With euery gall,and varry of their Maſters,

Knowing naught (like dogges) but following :

A plague vpon your Epilepticke viſage,

Smoile you my ſpeeches, as I were a Foole ?

Goofe,if I had you vpon Sarum Plaine,

I'd diuie ye cackling home to Camelot.

Corn. What art thou mad old Fellow ?

Gloſt. How fell you out, lay that ?

Kent. No contraries hold more antipathy,
Then I, and ſuch a knaue.

Corn. Why doſt thou call him Knaue ?

What is his fault?

Kent. His countenance likes me not.

Cor. No more perchance do's mine,nor his,nor hers.

Kent. Sir, 'tis my occupation to be plaine,

I haue ſeene better faces in my time,

Then stands on any ſhoulder that I ſee
Before me,at this inſtant.

Corn. This is some Fellow,

Who hauing beene prais'd for bluntneſſe,doth affect
A ſaucy roughnes,and conſtraines the garb

Quite from his Nature. He cannot flatter he,

An honest mind and plaine,he muſt ſpeake truth,

And they will take it ſo,if not, hee's plaine.

These kind of Knaues I know, which in this plainneſſe

Harbour more craft, and more corrupter ends,

Then twenty filly, ducking obſeruants,

That ſtretch their duties nicely.

Kent. Sir,in good faith,in ſincere verity,

Vnder th'allowance of your great aſpect,

Whofe influence like the wreath of radient fire

On flicking Phœbus front.

Corn. What mean't by this ?

Kent. To go out of my dialect, which you diſcom-
mend so much; I know Sir, I am no flatterer, he that be-
guild you in a plaine accent, was a plaine Knaue, which
for my part I will not be, though I should win your
diſpleasure to entreat me too't.

Corn. What was th'offence you gaue him?

Ste. I neuer gaue him any:

It pleas'd the King his Maſter very late

To ſtrike at me vpon his miſconſtruction,

When he compaſt, and flattering his diſpleasure

Tript me behind: being downe, inſuſed, rail'd,

And put vpon him ſuch a deale of Man,

That worthied him, got praisſes of the King,

For him attempting, who was ſelfe-subdued,

And in the ſelthment of this dead exploit,

Drew on me here againe.

Kent. None of theſe Rogues, and Cowards
But Aliax is there Foole.

Corn. Fetch forth the Stocks ?

You ſubborne ancient Knaue, you reuerent Bragan,
Wee'l teach you,

Kent. Sir,I am too old to leane :

Call not your Stocks for me, I ſere the King.

On whose employment I was ſent to you,

You ſhall do ſmall reſpects, how too bold malice

Againſt the Grace, and Perſon of my Maſter,

Stocking his Meſſenger.

Corn. Fetch forth the Stocks;

As I haue life and Honour, there ſhall he ſit till Noone.

Reg. Till noone? till night my Lord, and all night too.

Kent. Why Madam, if I were your Fathers dog,

You should not vſe me ſo.

Reg. Sir, being his Knaue, I will.

Stocks brought out.

Cor. This is a Fellow of the ſelfe fame colour,

Our Sifter ſpeakes of. Come, bring away the Stocks.

Glo. Let me beſeech your Grace, not to do ſo,

The King his Maſter, needs muſt take it ill

That he ſo flightly valued in his Meſſenger,

Should haue him thus reſtrained.

Cor. Ile anſwere that.

Reg. My Sifter may reciue it much more worſſe,
To haue her Gentleman abus'd, aſſaulted.

Cor. Come my Lord, away.

Exit.

Glo. I am ſory for thee friend, 'tis the Duke pleasure,
Whose diſpoſition all the world well knowes
Will not be rub'd nor ſtop; Ile entreat for thee.

Kent. Pray do not Sir, I haue watch'd and trauail'd hard,
Some time I ſhall ſleepe out, the reſt I lewhistle :
A good man's fortune may grow out at heeles

Gie

The Tragedie of King Lear.

293

Gie you good morrow.

Glo. The Duke's too blamein this,

'Twill be ill taken.

Exit.
Kent. Good King, that must approue the common law,
Thou out of Heauens benediction com'st
To the warme Sun.

Approach thou Beacon to this vnder Glabe,
That by thy comfortable Beames I may
Perufe this Letter. Nothing almost sees miracles
But miferie. I know 'tis from Cordelia,
Who hath most fortunately beene inform'd
Of my obfured course. And ſhall finde time
From this enormous State, ſeeking to giue
Loſſes their remedies. All weary and o're-watch'd,
Take vantage heauie eyes, not to behold
This ſhamefull lodging. Fortune goodnight,
Smile once more, turne thy wheeles.

Enter Edgar.

Edg. I heard my ſelfe proclaim'd,
And by the happy hollow of a Tree,
Eſcap'd the hunt. No Port is free, no place
That guard, and moſt vnſalſ vigiliance
Do's not attend my taking. Whileſ I may ſcape
I will preferue my ſelfe: and am bethought
To take not the bafeſt, and moſt pooreſt ſhape
That ever penury in contempt of man,
Brought neere to beaſt; my face Ile grime with filth,
Blanket my loines, eſſe all my haires in knots,
And with preſented nakedneſſe out-face
The Windes, and perſecutions of the skie;
The Country giues me proofe, and preſident
Of Bedlam beggers, who with roaring voices,
Strike in their num'd and mortified Armes,
Pins, Wodden-prickes, Nayles, Sprigs of Rosemarie :
And with this horrible obiect, from low Farmes,
Poore pelting Villages, Sheeps-Coates, and Milles,
Sometimes with Lunaticke bans, sometime with Praiers
Inforce their charitie: poore Turlygod poore Tom,
That's ſomething yet: Edgar I nothing am.

Exit.

Enter Lear, Foole, and Gentleman.

Lea'. 'Tis strange that they should so depart from home,
And not fend backe my Meflengers.

Kent. As I learn'd,

The night before, there was no purpose in them
Of this remoue.

Kent. Hail to thee Noble Maſter.

Lear. Ha? Mak' it thou this ſhame ahy paſtine?

Kent. No my Lord.

Foole. Hah, ha, he weares Cruell Garters Horſes are
tide by the heads, Dogges and Beares, by'th'necke,
Monkies by'th'loynes, and Men by'th'legs: when a man
ouerluffie at legs, then he weares wodden nether-stocks.

Lear. What's he,

That hath so much thy place miſtooke
To fet thee heere?

Kent. It is both he and she,
Your Son, and Daughter.

Lear. No.

Kent. Yes.

Lear. No I ſay.

Kent. I ſay yea.

Lear. By Imper I ſweare no.

Kent. By Iuus, I ſweare I.

Lear. They durſt not do't:

They could not, would not do't: 'tis worſe then murther,
To do vpon reſpect ſuch violent outrage:
Reſolue me with all mod ſt haſte, which way
Thou might' it deferue, or they impoſe this viſage,
Comming from vs.

Kent. My Lord, when at their home
I did commend your Highneſſe Letters to them,
Ere I was rifien from the place, that ſhewed
My dutie kneeling, came there a reeking Poſſe,
Stew'd in his haſte, haſte breathleſſe, painting forth
From Goneril his Miftris, salutations;
Deliuer'd Letters ſpight of intermiſſion,
Which preſently they read; on those contents
They ſummon'd vp their meiney, ſtraight tooke Horſe,
Commanded me to follow, and attend
The leſure of their anſwer, gaue me cold looks,
And meeting heere the other Meflenger,
Whose welcome I perceiuid had poſſon'd mine,
Being the very fellow which of late
Diplaid to ſawcily againſt your Highneſſe,
Hauing more man then wit about me, drew;
He rais'd the house, with loud and coward cries,
Your Sonne and Daughter found this treſpaffe worth
The ſhame which heere it ſuffers.

(way,

Foole. Winters not gon yet, if the will'd Geefe fly that
Fathers that weare rags, do make their Children blind,
But Fathers that beare bags, ſhall fee their children kind.
Fortune that arrant whores, nere turns the key toth' poore.
But for all this thou ſhalt haue as many Dolors for thy
Daughers, as thou canſt tell in a yeare.

Lear. Oh how this Mother ſwels vp toward my heart!
Hiftorica paſſio, downe thou climbing ſorrow,
Thy Elements below where is this Daughter?

Kent. With the Earle Sir, here within.

Lear. Follow me not, ſlay here.

Gen. Made you no more offence,

But what you ſpeak of?

Kent. None:

How chance the the King comes with so ſmall a number?

Foole. And thou hadſt beene ſet i'th' Stocks for that
question, thou'd it well deferu'd it.

Kent. Why Foole?

Foole. Wee' ſet thee to Schoole to an Ant, to teach
thee the ſer's no labouring i'th' winter. All that follow their
noſes, are led by their eyes, but blinde men, and there's
not a noſe among twenty, but can ſmell him that's ſink-
ing; let go thy hold, when a great wheele runs downe a
hill, leaſt it breake thy necke with following. But the
great one that goes vpward, let him drawthee after :
when a wifeman giues thee better counſell giue me mine
againe, I would haue none but knaues follow it, ſince a
Foole giues it.

That Sir, which ſerues and ſeekes for gaine,

And followes but for forme;

Will packe, when it begins to raine,

And leaue thee in the ſtorme.

But I will tarry, the Foole will flay,

And let the wifeman flie :

The knaue turns Foole that runnes away,

The Foole nojknaua perdie.

Enter Lear, and Gloſter:

Kent. Where learn'd you this Foole?

Foole. Not i'th' Stocks Foole.

rr

Lear.

["The Tragedie of King Lear.", "294", "Lear. Deny to [speak] with me?", "They are fickle, they are weary,", "They haue trauail'd all the night? meere fetches,", "The images of reuolt and flying off.", "Fetch me a better anfwer.", "Glo. My deere Lord,", "You know the fiery quality of the Duke,", "How vnremoueable and fixt he is", "In his owne course.", "Lear. Vengeance, Plague, Death, Confusion :", "Fiery? What quality ? Why Gloster, Glofter,", "I'd speake with the Duke of Cornewall, and his wife.", "Glo. Well my good Lord, I haue inform'd them fo.", "Lear. Inform'd them? Do't thou vnderstand me man.", "Glo. I my good Lord.", "Lear. The King would [speak] with Cornewall,", "The deere Father", "Would with his Daughter speake, commands, tends, fer-", "Are they inform'd of this? My breath and blood: (juice,", "Fiery? The fiery Duke, tell the hot Duke that—", "No, but not yet, may be he is not well,", "Infirmity doth still neglect all office,", "Whereto our health is bound, we are not our felues,", "When Nature being oppreft, commands the mind", "To suffer with the body; Ile forbeare,", "And am fallen out with my more headier will,", "To take the indispos'd and fickly fit,", "For the found man. Death on my state : wherefore", "Should he fit heere ? This aft perfwades me,", "That this remotion of the Duke and her", "Is practice only. Glue me my Servant forth;", "Goe tell the Duke, and's wife, I'd speake with them :", "Now, prefently : bid them come forth and heare me,", "Or at their Chamber doore Ile beate the Drum,", "Till it crie sleepe to death.", "Glo. I would haue all well betwixt you.", "Exit.", "Lear. Oh me my heart! My riving heart! But downe.", "Foole. Cry to it Nunckle, as the Cockney did to the\nEeles, when he put 'em i'th' Paſſe aliue, the knapt 'em\no'th' coxcombs with a ſticke, and cryed downe wantons,\ndowne; 'twas her Brother, that in pure kindneſſe to his\nHorse buttered his Hay.", "Enter Cornewall. Regan, Glofter, Sernants.", "Lear. Good morrow to you both.", "Corn. Haile to your Grace.", "Kent here fet at liberty.", "Reg. I am glad to see your Highneſſe.", "Lear. Regan, I thinke your are. I know what reaſon", "I haue to thinke ſo, if thou should't not be glad,", "I would divorce me from thy Mother Tombe,", "Sepulchring an Adultrefle. O are you free?", "Some other time for that. Beloued Regan,", "Thy Sifters naught : oh Regan, she hath tied", "Sharpe-tooth'd vnkindneſſe, like a vulture heere,", "I can scarce [speak] to thee, thou'lt not beleeue", "With how deprau'd a quality. Oh Regan.", "Reg. I pray you Sir, take patience, I haue hope", "You leſſe know how to value her defaſt,", "Then ſhe to ſcant her dutie.", "Lear. Say? How is that?", "Reg. I cannot thinke my Sifter in the leaſt", "Would faile her Obligation. If Sir perchance", "She haue refrained the Riots of your Followres,", "'Tis on such ground, and to such wholesome end,", "As cleeres her from all blame,", "Lear. My curles on her.", "Reg. O Sir, you are old,\nNature in you flands on the very Verge", "Of his confine : you should be rul'd, and led", "By some discretion, that discernes your ſtate", "Better then you your ſelfe : therefore I pray you,", "That to our Sifter, you do make returne,", "Say you haue wrong'd her.", "Lear. Aske her forgiueneſſe?", "Do you but marke how this becomes the houſe?", "Deere daughter, I confefſe that I am old;", "Age is vnneſt necessary : on my knees I begge,", "That you'l vouchſaſe me Rayment, Bed, and Food.", "Reg. Good Sir, no more : theſe are vnſtightly tricks:\nReturne you to my Sifter.", "Lear. Neuer Regan :", "She hath abated me of half me my Traine;", "Look'd blacke vpon me, strooke me with her Tongue\nMoſt Serpent-like, vpon the very Heart.", "All, the ſtor'd Vengeances of Heauen, fall", "On her ingratefull top: ſtrike her yong bones", "You t. king Ayres, with Lameneſſe.", "Corn. Fye fir, ſie.", "Le. You nimble Lightnings, dart your blinding ſlames\nInto her ſcornfull eyes: Inſect her Beauty,", "You Fen-fuck'd Fogges, drawne by the powrful Sunne,", "To fall, and blifter.", "Reg. O the bleft Gods !", "So will you wifh on me, when the rath moode is on,", "Lear. No Regan, thou ſhalt neuer haue my curle :", "Thy tender-heſted Nature ſhall not giue", "Thee o're to harſhneſſe : Her eyes are ſterſe, but thine", "Do comfort, and not burne. 'Tis not in thee", "To grudge my pleatures, to cut off my Traine,", "To bandy haſty words, to ſcant my ſizes,", "And in conclusion, to oppoſe the bolt.", "A gainſt my comming in. Thou better know't", "The Offices of Nature, bond of Childhood,", "Effects of Curſeſſe, dues of Gratitude:", "Thy half-e'th'Kingdome haſt thou not forgot,", "Wherein I thee endow'd.", "Reg. Good Sir, to'ch'purpofe.", "Ticket within.", "Lear. Who put my man i'th'Stockes ?", "Enter Stewards!", "Corn. What Trumpet's that?", "Reg. I know't, my Sifters : this approues her Letter,\nThat ſhe would ſoon be heere. Is your Lady come?", "Lear. This is a Slaue, wholee eſſe borrowed pride\nDwels in the fickly grace of her he followes.", "Out Varlet, frommy ſight.", "Corn. What meanes your Grace?", "Enter Goneril.", "Lear. Who ſtockt my Servant? Regan, I haue good hope\nThat I did'nt not know on't.", "Who comes here? O Heauens !", "If you do loue old men, if your ſweet way", "Allow Obedience; if you your ſelues are old,", "Make it your cauſe: Send downe, and take my part.", "Art nor aſham'd to looke vpon this Beard ?", "O Regan, will you take her by the hand?", "Gon. Why not by'ch'thand Sir? How haue I offended?", "All's not offence that indiscretion findes,", {"bbox": [657, 1300, 819,

The Tragedie of King Lear.

295

Defer'd much leſſe aduancement.

### Lear. You? Did you?

### Reg.
I pray you Father being weake, ſeeme ſo,
If till the expiration of your Moneth
You will returne and toſourne with my Sifter,
Dismilſing halſe your traine, come then to me,
I am now from home, and out of that prouſion
Which ſhall be needfull for your entertainement.

### Lear.
Returne to her; and fifty men diſmiſſ'd?
No, rather Iabiuſe all rooſes, and chufte
To wage againſt the enmity oth'ayre,
To be a Comrade with the Wolſe, and Owſe,
Necesſities ſharpe pinch. Returne with her?
Why the hot-bloodied France, that dowerleſſe tooke
Our yongest borne, I could as well be brought
To knee his Throre, and Squire like pension beg,
To keepe bafe life a ſtoot; returne with her?
Perſwade me rather to be ſlue and ſump ſter
To this detefted groome.

### Gon. At your choice Sir.

### Lear.
I prylthee Daughteŕ do not make me mad,
I will not trouble thee my Child; farewell:
Weel no more meete, no more ſee one another.
But yet thou art my fleſh, my blood, my Daughteŕ,
Or rather a diſeafe that's in my fleſh,
Which I muſt needs call mine. Thou art a Byle,
A plague ſore, or unboſtred Carbuncle
In my corrupted blood. But Ie not chide thee,
Let ſhame come when it will, I do not call it,
I do not bid the Thunders-bearer ſhooſte,
Nor tell tales of thee to high-iudging loue.
Mend when thou can't, be better at thy leſure,
I can be patient, I can ſtay with Regan,
I and my hundred Knights.

### Reg.
Not altogether ſo,

I look'd not for you yet, nor am prouided
For your fit welcome, giue care Sir to my Sifter,
For thofe that mingle reaſon with your paffion,
Muſt be content to thinke you old, and ſo,
But ſhe knowes what ſhe doe's.

### Lear.
Is this well ſpoken?

### Reg.
I dare auouch it Sir, what fifty Followers?
Is it not well? What should you need of more?
Yea, or ſo many? Sith that both charge and danger,
Speake 'gainſt ſo great a number? How in one houſe
Should many people, under two commands
Hold amity? 'Tis hard, almost imſpossible,

Gon. Why not you my Lord, receiue attendance
From thofe that the cals Seruants, or from mine?

### Reg.
Why not my Lord?

If then they chan'd to flacke ye,
We could comptroll them; if you will come to me,
(For now I ſpie a danger) I entreat you
To bring but ſiue and twentie, to no more
Will I giue place or notice.

### Lear.
I gave you all.

### Reg.
And in good time you gave it.

### Lear.
Made you my Guardians, my Deſpoſitaries,
But kept a reſuſation to be followed
With ſuch a number? What, muſt I come to you
With ſiue and twenty? Regan, said you ſo?

### Reg.
And ſpeak againe my Lord, no more with me.
### Lear.
Thoſe wicked Creatures yet do look wel fauor'd
When others are more wicked, not being the workſt
Stands in ſome ranke of praiſe, He go with thee,
Thy fifty yet doth double ſiue and twenty,

And thou art twice her Loue.

### Gon. Heare me my Lord;

What need you ſiue and twenty? 'Ten? Or ſiue?

To follow in a houſe, where twice ſo many

Haue a command to tend you?

### Reg.
What need one?

### Lear.
O reaſon not the need: our bafeſt Beggers

Are in the pooreſt thing ſuper ſluons,

Allow not Nature, more then Nature needs:

Man's life is cheape as Beateſt. Thou art a Lady;

If only ſo go warme were gorgeous,

Why Nature needs not what thou gorgeous wear ſt,

Which ſcarcely keepeſt thee warme, but for true need.

You Heauens, giue me that patience, patience I need,

You ſee me heere (you God's) a poore old man,

As full of grieſe as age, wretched in both,

If it be you that stirres theſe Daughteŕ hearts

A gainſt their Father, ſoole me not ſo much,

To beare it tamely: touch me with Noble anger,

And let not womens weapons, water drops,

Staine my maſhs cheekes. No you vnnaſturaſ Hags,

I will have ſuch reuenges on you both,

That all the world ſhall— I will do ſuch things,

What they are yet, I know not, but they ſhalbe

The terrors of the earth? you thinke Ie weepe,

No, Ile not weepe, I haue full cauſe of weeping.

Storme and Tempest.

But this heart ſhal break into a hundred thousand flaws

Or ere He weepe; O Foole, I ſhall go mad.

### Corn.
Let vs withdraw, 'twill be a Storme.

### Reg.
This houſe is little, the old man an'ds people,
Cannot be well beſtow'd.

### Gon.
'Tis his owne blame hath put himſelfe from ſon, And muſt needs taſte his folly.

### Reg.
For his particular, Ile receiue him gladly,
But nor one follower.

### Gon.
So am I purpós'd.

Where is my Lord of Gloſter?

Enter Gloſter.

### Corn.
Followed the old man forth, he is return'd.

### Glo.
The King is in high rage.

### Corn.
Whether is he going?

### Glo.
He cals to Horſe, but will I know not whether.

### Corn.
'Tis beſt to giue him way, he leads himſelſe.

### Gon.
My Lord, entreate him by no meanes to ſlay.

### Glo.
Alacke the night comes on, and the high windes

Do forely ruffle, for many Miles about
There's ſcarec e a Buſh.

### Reg.
O Sir, to wilſul men,

The injueries that they themſelues procure,
Muſt be their Schoole-Maſters: ſut vp your doores,
He is attended with a delpeſate traine,
And what they may incenſe him too, being apt,
To haue his eare abus'd, wifedome bids ſcare.

### Cer.
Shut vp your doores my Lord, 'tis a wil'd night,
My Regan counſels well: come out oth' ſtorme. Exeunt.

Actus Tertius. Scena Prima.

Storme ſtill. Enter Kent, and a Gentleman, ſeverally.

Kent. Who's there befides ſoule weather?

### Gen.
One minded like the weather, moſt vnquietly.

rr2

Kent.

Diflorides
Deferens

The Tragedie of King Lear.

296

Kent. I know you: Where's the King?

Gent. Contending with the fretfull Elements;
Bids the nnde blow the Earth into the Sea,
Or fwell the curled Waters' boue the Maine,
That things might change, or ceafe.

Kent. But who is with him?

Gent. None but the Foole, who labours to out-iest
His heart-strooke inuries.

Kent. Sir, I do know you,

And dare vpon the warrant of my note
Commend a deere thing to you. There is diuision
(Although as yet the face of it is couer'd
With mutuall cunning') 'twixt Albany, and Cornwall :
Who haue, as who haue not, that their great Starres
Thron'd and fet high; Seruants, who ſceme no leſſe,
Which are to France the Spies and Speculations
Intelligent of our State. What hath bin ſceme,
Either in ſnuffes, and packings of the Dukes,
Or the hard Reine which both of them hath borne
Aginſt the old kinde King; or ſomething deeper,
Whereof (perchance) theſe are but ſurſings.

Gent. I will talke further with you.

Kent. No, do not:

For confirmation that I am much more
Then my out-wall; open this Purſe, and take
What it contains. If you ſhall see Cordelia,
(As ſeare not but you ſhall) ſhew her this Ring,
And ſhe will tell you who that Fellow is
That yet you do not know. Fye on this Storme,
I will go ſeeke the King.

Gent. Giue me your hand,
Hae you no more to ſay?

Kent. Few words, but to effect more then all yet;
That when we haue found the King, in which your pain
That way, Ile this: He that firſt lights on him,
Holla the other.

Exeunt.

## Scena Secunda.

Storme fill. Enter Lear, and Foole.

Lear. Blow windes, & crack your cheeks; Rage, blow
You Cataraës, and Hyrricano's ſpout,
Till you haue drench'd our Steeples, drown the Cackes.
You Sulph'rous and Thought-executing Fires,
Vaunt-curiors of Oake-cleauing Thunder-bolts,
Sindge my white head. And thou all-shaking Thunder,
Srike flat the thicke Rotundity o'th'world,
Cracke Natures moulds, all germaines ſpill at once
That makes ingratefull Man.

Foole. O Nunkle, Court holy-water in a dry house, is better then this Rain-water out o'doore. Good Nunkle, in, aske thy Daughters bleſſing, heere's a night pitties neither Wifemen, nor Fooles.

Lear. Rumble thy belly full: ſpit Fire, ſpowt Raine:
Nor Raine, Winde, Thunder, Fire are my Daughters;
I taxe not you, you Elements with vnkindneſſe.
I neuer gane you Kingdome, call'd you Children;
You owe me no ſubſcription. Then let fall
Your horrible pleafure. Heere I ſtand your Slaue,
A poore, infirme, weake, and diſpis'd old man :
But yet I call you Seruile Minifters,
That will with two pernicious Daughters ioyne
Your high-engender'd Battailes, 'gainſt a head

So old, and white as this. O,ho! 'tis foule.

Foole. He that has a houſe to put's head in, has a good Head-pleece:

The Codpiece that will houſe, before the head has any
The Head, and he ſhall Lowſe: ſo Beggers marry many,
The man y makes his Toe, what he his Hart thold make;
Shall of a Corne cry woe, and turne his ſleepe to wake;

For there was neuer yet faire woman, but ſhe made
mouthes in a glaſſe.

Enter Kent.

Lear. No, I will be the patterne of all patience,
I will ſay nothing.

Kent. Who's there?

Foole. Marry here's Grace, and a Codpiece, that's a
Wifeman, and a Foole.

Kent. Alas Sir, are you here? Things that loue night,
Loue not ſuch nights as theſe: The wrathfull Skies
Gallow the very wanderers of the darke.

And make them keepe their Caues: Since I was man,
Such ſheets of Fire, ſuch burſts of horrid Thunder,
Such groanes of roaring Winde, and Raine, I neuer
Remember to haue heard. Mans Nature cannot carry
Th'afflіſtion, nor the ſeare.

Lear. Let the great Goddes

That keepe this dreadfull pudder o're our heads,
Finde out their enemies now. Tremble thou Wretch,
That haſt within thee vndivulged Crimes
Vnwbiſt of Iuſtice. Hide thee, thou Bloudy hand;
Thou Periur'd, and thou Simular of Vertue
That art Inceſtuous. Caytiffe, to peeces ſake
That vnder courter, and convenient ſeeming
Ha's præctis'd on mans life. Cloſe pent-vp quilts,
Riue your concealing Continents, and cry
These dreadfull Summoners grace. I am a man,
More ſinn'd againſt, then ſinning.

Kent. Alacke, bare-headed?

Gracious my Lord, hard by heere is a Houell,
Some friendſhip will it lend you 'gainſt the Tempeſt:
Repoſe you there, while I to this hard houſe,
(More harder then the ſtones whereof 'tis rais'd,
Which euen but now, demanding after you,
Deny'd me to come in) returne, and force
Their ſcanted curteſie.

Lear. My wits begin to turne.

Come on my boy. How doſt my boy? Art cold?

I am cold my ſelfe. Where is this ſraw, my Fellow?

The Art of our Necessities is ſtrange,

And can make vilde things precious. Come, your Houell;
Poore Foole, and Knaue, I haue one part in my heart
That's ſorry yet for thee.

Foole. He that has and a little-tyne wit,

With heigh-ho, the Winde and the Raine,
Muſt make content with his Fortunes fit,
Though the Raine it raineth euery day.

Le. True Boy: Come bring vs to this Houell. Exit.

Foole. This is a braue night to coole a Curtizan:

Ile ſpeak a Propheſe ere I go:

When Priefts are more in word, then matter;

When Brewers marre their Malt with water;

When Nobles are their Taylors Tutors,

No Heretiques burn'd, but wenches Sutors;

When euery Cafe in Law, is right;

No Squire in debt, nor no poore Knight;

When Slanders do not lie in Tongues;

Nor Cut-purſes come not to throngs;

When Vlurers tell their Gold i'th'Field,

And

The Tragedie of King Lear.

297

And, Baudes, and whores, do Churches build,
Then that the Realme of Albion, come to great confusion:
Then comes the time, who liues to feel',
That going shalbe vs'd with feet.
(time.
This prophecie Merlin shall make, for I liue before his
Exit.

## Scena Tertia.

Enter Gloster, and Edmund.

Glo. Alack, alacke Edmund, I like not this vnnaturall dealing; when I desired their leaue that I might pity him, they tooke from me the vfe of mine owne houle, charg'd me on paine of perpetuall displeasure, neither to speake of him entreat for him, or any way suffaine him.

Beſt. Moſt ſauage and vnnatural.

Glo. Go too; ſay you nothing. There is diuision betwene the Dukes, and a worſile matter then that: I haue receiued a Letter this night, 'tis dangerous to be ſpoken, I haue lock'd at the Letter in my Gloſſet, theſe iniurieſ the King now beares, will be reuenged home; ther is part of a Power already footed, we muſt incline to the King, I will looke him, and primly relieve him; goe you and maintaine talke with the Duke, that my charity be not of him perceiued; If he aske for me, I am ill, and gene to bed, if I die for it, (as no leſſe is threatened me) the King my old Maſter muſt be relieved. There is ſtrange things toward Edmund, pray you be careful.

Beaſt. This Curteſe forbid thee, ſhall the Duke

Inſantly know, and of that Letter too;
This ſeemes a faire deferuſing, and muſt draw me
That which my Father looſes; no leſſe then all,
The yonger rifes, when the old doth fall.

Exit.

Exit.

## Scena Quarta.

Enter Lear, Kent, and Foole.

Kent. Here is the place my Lord, good my Lord enter,
The twiany of the open night's too rough
For Nature to endure.
Storme still

Storme still

Lear. Let me alone.

Kent. Good my Lord enter here.

Lear. Wilt breake my heart ?

Kent. I had rather breake mine owne,

Good my Lord enter.

Lear. Thou think'st 'tis much that this contentious
Inuades vs to the skinſo : 'tis to thee,
But where the greater malady is fixt,
The leſſer is ſcareſe ſelt. Thou'dt ſun a Beare,
But if they flight lay toward the roaring Sea,
Thou'dt meete the Beare i'th' mouth, when the mind's
The bodies delicate, the temperſt in my mind,
Doth from my fences take all feeling eſſe,
Saueth what beates there, Filliall ingratitude,
Sau it not as this mouth ſhould teare this hand
For lifting food too't: But I will punſh home;
No, I will weepe no more; in ſuch a night,

To ſhut me out? Poure on, I will endure:

In ſuch a night as this? O Regan, Gonerill,

Your old kind Father, whose franke heart gaue all,

O that way madneſſe lies, let me ſun that:

No more of that.

Lear. Prythee go in thy leſſe, leefe thine owne caſe,
This tempeſt will not giue me leaue to ponder
On things would hurt me more, but I goe in,
In Boy, go firſt. You houseſeſſe pouertie,
Nay get thee in; Ile pray, and then Ile sleepe.

Poore naked wretches, where ſo ere you are,
That bide the pelting of this pittrſe ſtorme,
How ſhall your House-leſſe heads, and vnſed sides,
Your lop'd, and window'd raggedneſſe defend you.

From ſeasons ſuch as these? O I haue tane

Too little care of this: Take Phyſicke, Pompe,

Expoſe thy ſelſe to ſeele what wretches ſeelſe,

That thou maſſt shake the ſuperflux to them,

And ſhew the Heauens more juſt.

Exit.

Enter Edgar, and Foole.

Edg. Fathom, and halſe, Fathom and halſe; poore Tom.

Foole. Come not in heere Nuncle, here's a p[il]irit, he l[ie]pe me, he l[ie]pe me.

Kent. Gue me thy hand, who's there ?

Foole. Aſpirite, a p[il]irit, he ſays his name's poore Tom.

Kent. What art thou that doſt grumble there i'th' draw ? Come forth.

Edg. Away, the foule Fiend followes me, through the
ſharp e Authority blow the windes. Humh, goe to thy
bed and warne ther.

Lear. Did't thou giue all to thy Daughters ? And art thou come to this?

Edgar. Who giues any thing to poore Tom? Whom the foule fiend hath led through Fire, and through Flame, through Sword, and Whirle-Poole, o're Bog, and Quagmire, that hath laid Kniues vnder his Pillow, and Halters in his Pue, ſet Rats-bane by his Porredge, made him Proud of heart, to ride on a Bay trotting Horſe, ouer ſoure Icht Bridges, to courſe his owne ſhadow for a Traitor. Bliſſe thy flue Wits, Tom's a cold, O do, de, de, de, de, de, bliſſe thee from Whirle-Windes, Starre-blaſſing, and ta-king, do poore Tom ſome charitie, whom the foule Fiend vexes. There could I haue him now, and there, and there ag ai ne, and there.
Storme firſt.

Storme firſt.

Lear. Ha's his Daughters brought him to this p[il]aſſe ?
Could it thou faue nothing? Would'ſt thou giue 'em all?

Foole. Nay, he referu'd a Blanket, eſſe we had bin all
ſham'd.

Lea. Now all the plagues that in the pendulous ayre
Hang fated o're mens faults, light on thy Daughters.

Kent. He hath no Daughters Sir.

Lear. Death Traitor, nothing could haue ſubdu'd
To ſuch a lowneſſe, but his vnkind Daughters. (Nature
Is it the fashion, that discarded Fathers,
Should haue thus little mercy on their ſl馀:
Iudicious puniſhment, 'twas this ſl馀 begot
The ſol ſelicane Daughters.

Edg. Pillicock fat on Pillicock hill, alow, alow, loo, loo.

Foole. This cold night will turne vs all to Fooleſe, and
Madmen.

Edgar. Take heed o'th'foole Fiend, obey thy Pa-
rents, kcepe thy words Iuſtice, Iwcre not, commit not,
with

The Tragedie of King Lear.

with mans fworne Spouſe ; let not thy Sweet-heart on
proud array. Tom's a cold.

Lear. What haſt thou bin?

Ed. A Seruingman ? Proud in heart, and minde; that
curſ'd my haire, wore Gloues in my cap; ſeru'd the Luſt
of my Miftris heart, and did the acte of darkenesſe with
her. Swore as many Oathes, as I ſpake words, & broke
them in the ſweet face of Heauen. One, that flept in the
contriving of Luſt, and wak'd to do it. Wine lou'd I
deereely, Dice deereely; and in Woman, out-Paramour'd
the Turke. Falſe of heart, light of ſeare, bloody of hand;
Hog in ſloth, Foxe in ſealth, Wolfe in greedinesſe, Dog
in madnes, Lyon in prey. Let not the creaking of ſnooes,
Nor the ruſtling of Silkes, betray thy poore heart to wo-
man. Keepe thy foote out of Brothels, thy hand out of
Plackets, thy pen from Lenders Bookes, and defye the
foule Fiend. Still through the Hauθorne blowes the
cold winde; Sayes ſuum, mun, nonny, Dolphin my Boy,
Boy Sefey : let him trot by.

Storme still.

Lear. Thou wert better in a Graue, then to anſwere
with thy vncouer'd body, this extremitie of the Skies. Is
man no more then this ? Confider him well. Thou ow't
the Worme no Silke ; the Beaſt, no Hide ; the Sheepe, no
Wooll ; the Cat, no perfume. Ha ? Here's three on's are
ſophiſticated. Thou art the thing it ſelſe ; vnaccommo-
dated man, is no more but ſuch a poore, bare, forked A-
nimall as thou art. Off, off you Lendings : Come, vn-
button heere.

Enter Glouceſter, with a Torch.

Foole. Prythee Nunckle be contented, 'tis a naughtie
night to ſwimme in. Now a little fire in a wilde Field,
were like an old Letchers heart, a small ſpark, all the reſt
on's body, cold : Looke, heere comes a walking fire.

Ed. This is the foule Flibbertigibber; hee begins at
Curfew, and walkes at firſt Cocke : Hee giues the Web
and the Pin, ſquints the eye, and makes the Hare-lippe;
Mildewes the white Wheate, and hurts the poore Crea-
ture of earth.

Swithold footed thrice the old,
He met the Night-Mare, and her nine-fold;
Bid her a-light, and her troth-plight,
And aroynt thee Witch, aroynt thee.

Kent. How fares your Grace?

Lear. What's he?

Kent. Who's there ? What is't you ſeeke?

Glon. What are you there ? Your Names?

Ed. Poore Tom, that eates the ſwimming Frog, the
Toad, the Tod-pole, the wall-Neut, and the water: that
in the ſurie of his heart, when the foule Fiend rages, eats
Cow-dung for Sallets; ſwallowes the old Rat, and the
ditch-Dogge; drinkes the green Mantle of the standing
Poole: who is wipt from Tything to Tything, and
flockt, punſh'd, and imprifon'd: who hath three Suites
to his backe, ſixe ſhirts to his body:

Horſe to ride, and weapon to weare :
But Mice, and Rats, and ſuch ſmall Deare,
Hae bin Toms food, for ſeuen long yeare :

Beware my Follower. Peace Smulkin, peace thou Fiend.

Glon. What, hath your Grace no better company ?

Ed. The Prince of Darkenesſe is a Gentleman. Modo
he's call'd, and Mabu.

Glon. Our ſlesh and blood, my Lord, is growne ſo
vilde, that it doth hate what gets it.

Ed. Poore Tom's a cold.

Glon. Go in with me ; my duty cannot ſuffer

To obey in all your daughters hard commands :
Though their Invention be to barre my doors,
And let this Tyrannous night take hold upon you,
Yet haue I ventured to come ſeeke you ous,
And bring you where both fire, and food is ready.

Lear. First let me talke with this Philosopher,
What is the caufe of Thunder?

Kent. Good my Lord take his offer,
Go into th'houſe.

Lear. Ile talke a word with this ſame lerned Theban:
What is your fludy?

Ed. How to preuent the Fiend, and to kill Vermine,

Lear. Let me aske you one word in private.

Kent. Importune him once more to go my Lord,
His wits begin t'vnfettle.

Glon. Canſt thou blame him ?

Storme still.

His Daughters ſeeke his death: Ah, that good Kent,
He said it would be thus: poore banifh'd man:

Thou ſayſt the King growes mad, Ile tell thee Friend
I am almost mad my ſelſe. I had a Sonne,

Now out-law'd from my blood: he ſought my life

But lately: very late: I lou'd him (Friend)

No Father his Sonne deerer: true to tell thee,

The greeſe hath craz'd my wits. What a night's this?
I do beſeech your grace.

Lear. O cry you mercy, Sir :

Noble Philosopher, your company.

Ed. Tom's a cold.

Glon. In fellow there, into th'Houel; keep thee warm.

Lear. Come, let's in all.

Kent. This way, my Lord.

Lear. With him ;

I will keepe ſtill with my Philosopher.

Kent. Good my Lord, ſooth him :

Let him take the Fellow.

Glon. Take him you on.

Kent. Sirra, come on: go along with vs.

Lear. Come, good Athenian.

Glon. No words, no words, hufh.

Ed. Childe Rowland to the darke Tower came,
His word was ſtill, ſie, ſoh, and ſummee,
I smell the blood of a Brittish man.

Exenunt

## Scena Quinta.

Enter Cornwall, and Edmund.

Corn. I will haue my reuenge, ere I depart his houſe.

Baff. How my Lord, I may be cenſured, that Nature
thus giues way to Loyaltie, ſomething ſeaves mee to
thinke of.

Cornw. I now perceiue, it was not altogether your
Brothers euill diſpoſition made him ſeeke his death: but
a prouoking merit ſet a worke by a repreuable badneſſe
in himſelſe.

Baff. How malicious is my fortune, that I muſt re-
pen to be iuſt ? This is the Letter which hee ſpake of;
which approues him an intelligent parti to the aduanta-
ges of France. O Heauens ! that this Treason were not;
or not I the detector.

Corn. Go with me to the Dutchefſe.

Baff. If the matter of this Paper be certain, you haue
mighty buſineſſe in hand.

Corn.

The Tragedie of King Lear.

299

Corn. True or false, it hath made thee ancle of Glou-
cefter: seeke out where thy Father is, that hee may bee
ready for our apprehension.

Bart. If I find him comforting the King, it will fluffe
his sulpition more fully. I will perfeuer in my courfe of
Loyalty, though the conflict be fore betweene that, and
my blood.

Corn. I will lay trust vpon thee: and thou shall finde
a deere Father in my loue.

Exeunt.

## Scena Sexta.

Enter Kent, and Gloucester.

Glou. Heere is better then the open ayre, take it thank-
fully: I will peeece out the comfort with what addition I
can: I will not be long from you.

Kent. All the powre of his wits, haue giuen way to his
impatience: the Gods reward your kindnesse.

Enter Lear, Edgar, and Foole.

Edg. Fraterretto cals me, and tells me Nero is an Ang-
ler in the Lake of Darknesse: pray Innocent, and beware
the foule Fiend.

Foole. Prythee Nunkle tell me, whether a madman be
a Gentleman, or a Yeoman.

Lear. A King, a King.

Foole. No, he's a Yeoman, that ha's a Gentleman to
his Sonne: for hee's a mad Yeoman that sees his Sonne a
Gentleman before him.

Lear. To haue a thousand with red burning spits

Come huzzing in vpon 'em.

Edg. Blefle thy fiue wits.

Kent. O pitty: Sir, where is the patience now

That you so oft haue boastet to retaine?

Edg. My teares begin to take his part so much,
They marre my counterfetting.

Lear. The little dogges, and all;

Trey, Blanch, and Sweet-heart: see, they barke at me.

Edg. Tom, will throw his head at them; Auaunt you
Curres, be thy mouth or blacke or white :

Tooth that poyfons if it bite:

Maſtiffe, Grey-hound, Mongrill, Grim,

Hound or Spaniell, Brache, or Hym :

Or Bobtaile tight, or Trounde taile,

Tom will make him weepe and waile,

For with throwing thus my head;

Dogs leapt the hatch, and all are fled.

Do, de, de, de: fefe: Come, march to Wakes and Fayres,
And Market Townes: poore Tom thy horne is dry,

Lear. Then let them Anatomize Regan : See what
breeds about her heart. Is there any caufe in Nature that
make theſe hard-hearts. You fir, I entertaine for one of
my hundred; only, I do not like the fashion of your gar-
ments. You will ſay they are Pefian; but let them bee
chang'd.

Enter Glofter.

Kent. Now good my Lord, lye heere, and reſt a while.

Lear. Make no noife, make no noife, draw the Cur-
taines: fo, fo, weel go to Supper jth morning.

Foole. And Ile go to bed at noone.

Glon. Come hither Friend:

Where is the King my Maſter?

Kent. Here Sir, but trouble him not, his wits are gone.

Glon. Good friend, I prythee take him in thy armes;
I haue ore-heard a plot of death vpon him:

There is a Litter ready, lay him in',

And drive toward Douer friend, where thou shall meete
Both welcome, and proteſion. Take vp thy Maſter,
If thou should'ſt dally halſe an houre, his life

With thine, and all that offer to defend him,

Stand in affuſed loffe. Take vp, take vp,

And follow me, that will to some prouſion

Gue thee quicke conduct. Come, come, away.

Exeunt.

## Scena Septima.

Enter Cornwall, Regan, Goneril, Balfard,
and Servants.

Corn. Poſte ſpeedily to my Lord your husband, ſhow
hin this Letter, the Army of France is landed: seeke out
the Traitor Glouſter.

Reg. Hang him instantly.

Gon. Plucke out his eyes.

Corn. Leaue him to my diſpleasure. Edmond, keepe
you our Sifter company: the reuenges we are bound to
take vpon your Traitorous Father, are not fit for your
beholding. Aduice the Duke where you are going, to a
moſt ſeſtuate preparation: we are bound to the like. Our
Poſſes shall be ſwift, and intelligent betwixt vs. Fare-
well deere Sifter, farewell my Lord of Glouſter.

Enter Steward.

How now? Where's the King?

Stew. My Lord of Glouſter hath conuey'd him hence
Some ſiue or ſix and thirty of his Knights

Hot Queſtrifts after him, met him at gate,
Who, with ſome other of the Lords, dependants,
Are gone with him toward Douer; where they boast
To haue well armed Friends.

Corn. Get horſes for your Miftris.

Gon. Farewell ſweet Lord, and Sifter.

Exit

Corn. Edmund farewell: go seek the Traitor Gloſter,
Pinnion him like a Theefe, bring him before vs :

Though well we may not pafle vpon his life

Without the forme of Juſtice: yet our power

Shall do a curſe to our wrath, which men

May blame, but not compṭroll.

Enter Glouceſter, and Servants.

Who's there? the Traitor?

Reg. Ingratefull Fox, 'tis he.

Corn. Binde faſt his corky armes.

Glon. What meanes your Graces?

Good my Friends confider you are my Gheſts :

Do me no foule play, Friends.

Corn. Binde him I ſay.

Reg. Hard, hard: O filthy Traitor.

Glon. Vnmerciful Lady, as you are, I' me none.

Corn. To this Chaire binde him,

Villaine, thou ſhalt finde.

Glon. By the kinde Gods, 'tis moſt ignobly done

To plucke me by the Beard.

Reg. So white, and ſuch a Traitor?

Glon. Naughty Ladie.

Theſe haires which thou doſt rauiſh from my chin
Will quicken and accuſe thee. I am your Hoſt,

With Robbers hands, my hofpitable ſauurs

You

300

The Tragedie of King Lear.

You should not ruffle thus. What will you do?

Corn. Come Sir.

What Letters had you late from France?

Reg. Be simple anſwer'd, for we know the truth,

Corn. And what confederacie haue you with the Trai-
tors, late footed in the Kingdome?

Reg. To whose hands

You haue ſent the Lunaticke King: Speake.

Glon. I haue a Letter gueſingly ſet downe

Which came from one that's of a newtrall heart,
And not from one oppes'd.

Corn. Cunning.

Reg. And falſe.

Corn. Where haſt thou ſent the King?

Glon. To Douer.

Reg. Wherefore to Douer?

Was't thou not charg'd at perill.

Corn. Wherefore to Douer? Let him anſwer that.

Glon. I am tyd to th'Stake,

And I muſt ſtand the Courſe.

Reg. Wherefore to Douer?

Glon. Because I would not ſee thy cruell Nailes

Plucke out his poore old eyes: nor thy ſierce Sifter,

In his Annointed fleſh, ſticke boarſh phangs.

The Sea, with ſuch a ſorme as his bare head,

In Hell-blacke-night induſt'd, would haue buoy'd vp

And quench'd the Stelled fires:

Yet poore old heart, he holpe the Heauens to raine.

If Wolues had at thy Gate howl'd that ſterne time,

Thou should't haue ſaid, good Porter turne the Key :

All Cruels ſelſe ſubſcribe: but I ſhall ſee

The winged Vengeance ouertake ſuch Children.

Corn. See't haſt thou neuer. Fellows hold your Chaire,
Vpon theſe eyes of thine, Ile ſet my ſoote.

Glon. He that will thinke to liue, till he be old,

Gie me ſome helpe. — O cruell! O you Gods.

Reg. One ſide will mocke another: Th'other too.

Corn. If you ſee vengeance.

Seru. Hold your hand, my Lord:

I haue ſeru'd you euer ſince I was a Childe:

But better ſeruice haue I neugr done you,

Then now to bid you hold.

Reg. How now, you dogge?

Ser. If you did weare a beard vpon your chin,

I'd ſhake it on this quarrell. What do you meane?

C. orn. My Villaine?

Seru. Nay then come on, and take the chance of anger.

Reg. Giue me thy Sword. A pezant ſtand vp thus?

Killes him.

Ser. Oh I am ſaine: my Lord, you have one eye left

To ſee ſome miſchefe on him. Oh.

Corn. Left it ſee more, preuient it; Out vilde gelly :

Where is thy luſter now ?

Glon. All darke and comfortleſſe?

Where's my Sonne Edmund?

Edmund, enkindle all the parkes of Nature

To quit this horrid acte.

Reg. Our treacherous Villaine,

Thou call'st on him, that hates thee. It was be

That made the ouerture of thy Treafons to vs :

Who is too good to pitty thee.

Glon. O my Folies ! then Edgar was abus'd,
Kinde Gods, forgiue me that, and proper him.

Reg. Go cruſt him out at gates, and let him ſmell
His way to Douer.

Exit with Glouſer.

How is't my Lord? How looke you ?

Corn. I haue recei'd a hurt: Follow me Lady;
Turne out that eyeleſſe Villaine: throw this Slave
Vpon the Dunghill: Regan, I bleed apace,
Vntimely comes this hurt. Giue me your arme. Exenius,

Actus Quartus. Scena Prima.

Enter Edgar.

Ed. Yet better thus, and knowne to be contemn'd,
Then still contemn'd and flatter'd, to be worſt:
The loweſt, and moſt dieſted thing of Fortune,
Stands ſtill in esperance, liues not in ſeare:
The lamentable change is from the beſt,
The worſt returns to laughter. Welcome then,
Thou vnſub ſtantiall ayre that I embrace:
The Wretch that thou haſt blowne vnto the worſt,
Owes nothing to thy blaſts.

Enter Gloster, and an Oldman.

But who comes here? My Father poorly led?
World, World, O world !

But that thy ſtrange mutations make vs hate thee,
Life would not yeelde to age.

Old. O my good Lord, I haue bene your Tenant,
And your Fathers Tenant, theſe ſoureſore yeares.

Glon. Away, get thee away: good Friend be gone,
Thy comforts can do me no good at all,
Thee, they may hurt.

Old. You cannot ſee your way.

Glon. I haue no way, and therefore want no eyes:
I ſtumbled when I taw. Full oft 'tis ſeene,

Our meanes ſecure vs, and our meere deſeets

Proue our Commodities. Oh deere Sonne Edgar,

The food of thy abufed Fathers wrath :

Might I but liue to ſee thee in my touch,
I'd tay I had eyes againe.

Old. How now ? who's there?

Ed. O Gods! Who is't can ſay I am at the worſt?
I am worſe then ere I was.

Old. Tis poore mad Tom.

Ed. And worſe I may be yet: the worſt is not,
So long as we can ſay this is the worſt.

Old. Fellow, where goeſt a

Glon. Is it a Beggar-man?

Old. Madman, and beggar too,

Glon. He has ſome reaſon, eſſe he could not beg.

I' th'laſt nights ſtorme, I ſuch a ſellow ſaw:

Which made me thinke a Man, a Worme. My Sonne

Came then into my minde, and yet my minde

Was then ſcarle Friends with hims.

I haue heard more ſince:

As Flies to wanton Boyes, are we to th'Gods,

They kill vs for their ſport.

Ed. How should this be?

Bad is the Trade that muſt play Foole to ſorrow,
Ang'ring it ſelſe, and others. Bieſſe thee Maſter.

Glon. Is that the naked Fellow ?

Old. I, my Lord.

Glon. Get thee away: If for my ſake

Thou wilt ore-take vs hence a mile or twaine

I' th'way toward Douer, do it for ancient loue,

And bring ſome couering for this naked Soule,

Which Ile intreat to leade me.

Old. Alacke ſir, he is mad.

Glon.

The Tragedie of King Lear.

301

Gon. 'Tis the times plague,
When Madmen leadeth the blinde:
Do as I bid thee, or rather do thy pleasure:
Above the reft, be gone.
Olds. Ile bring him the best Parrell that I haue
Come on't, what will.
Exit

Ed. Sitrah, baked fellow.
Edg. Poore Tom's a cold. I cannot daub it further.
Gon. Come hither fellow.
Edg. And yet I must:
Bleffy thy sweete eyes, they bleede.
Gon. Know't thou the way to Douer?

Edg. Both style, and gate; Horfeway, and foot-path:
poore Tom hath bin fear'd out of his good wits.
Bleffe
thee good mans fonne, from the foule Fiend.

Gon. Here take this purse, y' whom the heau'n plagues
Haue humbled to all strokes: that I am wretched
Makes thee the happier: Heauens deale so fill:
Let the superfluous, and Luft-dicted man,
That flaues your ordinance, that will not fee
Because he do's not feele, feele your powre quiekly:
So distribution should vndoo excelle,
And each man haue enough. Doft thou know Douer?
Edg. I Master.
Gon. There is a Cliffe, whose high and bending head
Lookes fearfully in the confined Deepe:
Bring me but to the very brimme of it,
And Ile repayre the mifery thou do't beare.
With something rich about me: from that place,
I shall not leading neede.
Edg. Giue me thy arme;
Poore Tom shall leade thee.

Exeunt.

## Scena Secunda.

Enter Gonerill, Baftard, and Steward.
Gon. Welcome my Lord. I meruell our mild husband
Not met vs on the way. Now, where's your Master?

Stew. Madam within, but neuer man fo chang'd:
I told him of the Army that was Landed:
He mil'd at it. I told him you were comming,
His anfwer was, the worse. Of Glofters Treachery,
And of the loyall Seruice of his Sonne
When I inform'd him, then he call'd me Sot,
And told me I had turn'd the wrong fide out:
What moft he should dislike, seemes pleafant to him;
What like, offenfue.

Gon. Then shall you go no further.
It is the Cowifh terror of his spirit
That dares not vndertake: Hee'l not feele wrongs
Which tye him to an anfwer: our wifhes on the way
May proue effects. Backe Edmond to my Brother,
Haften his Muſters, and conduct his powres.
I muſt change names at home, and giue the Difſaſſe
Into my Husbands hands. This truſtie Seruant
Shall paffè betwene vs: ere long you are like to heare
(If you dare venture in your owne bchalfe)
A Mifſaffes command. Weare this; ſpare ſpeech,
Decline your head. This kiffé, if it durſt ſpeak
Would ſtretch thy Spirits vp into the ayre:
Conceive, and fare thee well.
Exit.

Baſt. Yours in the ranks of death.
Gon. My moſt deere Glofter.

Oh, the difference of man, and man,
To thee a Womans ſervices are due,
My Foole vſurpes my body.

Stew. Madam, here come's my Lord.

Enter Albany.

Gon. I haue beene worth the whistle.

Alb. Oh Gonerill,

You are not worth the duſt which the rude winde
Blowes in your face.

Gon. Milke-Liuer'd man,
That bear't a cheeke for blowes, a head for wrongs,
Who haſt not in thy browes an eye-difſcerning
Thine Honor, from thy suffering.

Alb. See thy ſelfe diuelt:
Proper deformitie seemes not in the Fiend
So horrid as in woman.

Gon. Oh vaine Foole.

Enter a Messenger.

Mef. Oh my good Lord, the Duke of Cornwals dead,
Slaine by his Servant, going to put out
The other eye of Glouſter.

Alb. Glouſters eyes.

Mef. A Servant that he bred, thrill'd with remorſe,
Oppos'd againſt the act: bending his Sword
To his great Maſter, who, threat-enrag'd
Flew on him, and aniong'ſt them ſell'd him dead,
But not without that harmeſſull ſtroke, which ſince
Hath pluckt him after.

Alb. This ſhewes you are aboue
You Iuſtices, that theſe our neather crimes
So ſpeedily can venge. But (O poore Glouſter)
Loft he his other eye?

Mef. Both, both, my Lord.
This Letter Madam, craues a ſpeedy anſwer:
'Tis from your Sifter.

Gon. One way I like this well,
But being widow, and my Glouſter with her,
May all the building in my fancie plucke
Vpon my hatefull life. Another way
The Newes is not to ſo tart. Ile read, and anſwer.

Alb. Where was his Sonne,
When they did take his eyes?

Mef. Come with my Lady hither.
Alb. He is not heere.
Mef. No my good Lord, I met him baſe againe.

Alb. Knowes he the wickedneſſe?
Mef. I my good Lord: 'twas he inform'd againſt him
And quiſt the houſe, on purpofe, that their puniſhment
Might haue the freer courſe.

Alb. Glouſter, I liue
To thanke thee for the loue thou ſhew'd ſt the King,
And to reuenge thine eyes. Come hither Friend,
Tell me what more thou know'rt.

Exeunt.

## Scena Tertia.

Enter with Drum and Colours, Cordelia, Gentlemen, and Souilliciurs.
Cor. Alacke, 'tis he: why he was met euen now
As mad as the vext Sea, finging alowd,
Crown'd with ranke Fenitar, and furrow weeds,
With Hardokes, Hemlocke, Nettles, Cuckoo flowres,

Darneli

302

The Tragedie of King Lear.

Darnell, and all the idle weedes that grow
In our suftaining Corne. A Centery tend forth;
Search euery Acre in the high-growne field,
And bring him to our eye. What can mans wifedome
In the restoring his bereaused Senſe; he that helps him,
Take all my outward worth.

Gent. There is meanes Madam :

Our ſoſter Nurſe of Nature, is ſepoſe,
The which he lackeſ: that to prouoke in him
Are many Simples ſeriatiue, whoſe power
Will cloſe the eye of Anguſh.

Cord. All bleſt Secrets,
All you vnpublifh'd Vertues of the earth
Spring with my teares; be aydant, and remediate
In the Goodmans deſires: ſeeke, ſeeke for him,
Leaſt his vngouern'd rage, diſſolue the life
That wantes the meanes to leade it.

Enter Messengër.

Mef. Newes Madam,

The Britiſh Powres are matching hitherward.

Cor. 'Tis knowne before. Our preparation stands
In expectation of them. O deere Father,
It is thy buſineſſe that I go about: Therefore great France
My mourning, and impor: un'd teares hath pittied:
No blowne Ambition doth our Armes incite,
But loue, deere loue, and our ag'd Fathers Rite :

Soone may I heare, and ſee him.

Exeunt.

## Scena Quarta.

Enter Regan, and Steward.

Reg. But are my Brothers Powres ſet forth ?

Stew. I Madam,

Reg. Himſelfe in perſon there?

Stew. Madam with much ado :

Your Sifter is the better Souldier.

Reg. Lord Edmund ſpake not with your Lord at home?

Stew. No Madam.

Reg. What n ight import my Sifters Letter to him ?

Stew. I know not, Lady.

Reg. Faith he is poaſted hence on ſerious matter :

It was great ignorancia, Glouſters eyes being out
To let him live. Where he arrives, he moues
All hearts against vs : Edmund, I thinke is gone
In pitty of his mifery, to diſpatch
His nighted life : Morcouer to defcry

The strength of th' enemy.

Stew. I muſt needs after him, Madam, with my Letter.

Reg. Our ſtroopes ſet forth to morrow, ſtay with vs :

The wayes are dangerous.

Stew. I may not Madam :

My Lady charg'd my dutie in this buſines.

Reg. Why should she write to Edmund?

Might not you transport her purpotes by word? Belike,
Some things, I know not what. I loue thee much
Let me vnlcale the Letter.

Stew. Madam, I had rather—

Reg. I know your Lady do's not loue her Husband,
I am ſure of that: and at her late being heere,
She gaue ſirange Eliads, and moſt ſpeaking lookes

To Noble Edmund. I know you are of her boſome.

Stew. I, Madam?

Reg. I ſpeake in vnderſtanding: Y'are: I know't,
Therefore I do auide you take this note:
My Lord is dead : Edmund, and I haue talk'd,
And more convenient is he for my hand
Then for your Ladies : You may gather more :
If you do finde him, pray you giue him this;
And when your Miftris heares thus much from you,
I pray define her call her wifedome to her.

So fare you well :

If you do chance to heare of that blinde Traitor,
Preferment faſs on him, that cuts him off.

Stew. Would I could meet Madam, I ſhould ſhow
What party I do follow.

Reg. Fare thee well,

Exeunt

## Scena Quinta.

Enter Gloncelfer, and Edgar.

Glon. When ſhall I come to th'top of that fame hill?

Ed. You do climb me vp now. Look how we labor.

Glon. Me thinkes the ground is cten.

Ed. Horrible ſleep.

Hearke, do you heare the Sea?

Glon. No truly.

Ed. Why then your other Senſes grow imperſect
By your eyes anguſh.

Glon. So may it be indeed.
Me thinkes thy voyce is alter'd, and thou speak'st
In better phraſe, and matter then thou didst.

Ed. Y'are much deceiu'd: In nothing am I chang'd
But in my Garments.

Glon. Me thinkes y'are better ſpoken.

Ed. Come on Sir,

Heere's the place : ſtand ſtill: how ſcarefull
And dizie'tis, to caſt ones eyes ſo low,
The Crowes and Choughes, that wing the midway ayre
Shew ſcarfe ſo groſſe as Beetles. Halfe way downe
Hangs one that gathers Sampire: dreadfull Trade:
Me thinkes he ſeemes no bigger then his head.
The Fishermen, that walk'd vpon the beach
Appeare like Mice : and yand tall Anchoring Barke,
Diminifh'd to her Cocke: her Cocke, a Buoy
Almoſt too ſmall for ſight. The murmuring Surge,
That on th'vnnumbred idle Pebble chafes
Cannot be heard ſo high. Ile looke no more,
Leaſt my braine turne, and the deficient ſight
Topple downe headlong.

Glon. Set me where you ſtand.

Ed. Giue me your hand.

You are now within a foote of th'extreme Verge :
For all beneath the Moone would I not leape vp right.
Glon. Let go my hand :

Heere Friend's another purſe : in it, a Jewell
Well worth a poore man's taking. Fayries, and Gods
Proſper it with thee. Go thou further off,
Bid me farewell, and let me heare thee going.

Ed. Now fare ye well, good Sir.

Glon. With all my heart.

Ed. Why I do trifle thus with his diſpaire,
Is done to cure it.

Glon. O you mighty Gods !
This world I do renounce, and in your ſights

Shake

The Tragedie of King Lear.

303

Shake patiently my great affliction off:
If I could beare it longer, and not fall

To quarrell with your great oppofelesse willes,
My inuffe, and loathed part of Nature should
Burne it ſelfe out. If Edgar lye, O bleſſe him:
Now Fellow, fare thee well.

Edg. Gone Sir, farewell:

And yet I know not how conceit may rob

The Treasury of life, when life it ſelfe

Yeelds to the Theft. Had he bin where he thought,

By this had thought bin pafft. Aliue, or dead?

Hoa, you Sir: Friend, heare you Sir, ſpeake:

Thus might he paffe indeed : yet he reuiles.

What are you Sir?

Glon. Away, and let me dye.

Edg. Had it thou beene ought

But Gozemore, Feathers, Ayre,
(So many fathome downe precipitating)

Thou'dt ſhierud'd like an Egge: but thou doſt breath:

Haſt heauy subſtance, bleed it not, ſpeak it, art found,

Ten Maſts at each, make not the altitude

Which thou haſt perpendicularly ſell,

Thy life's a Myracle. ſpeake yet againe.

Glon. But haue I falne, or no?

Edg. From the dread Sonnet of this Chalkie Bourne
Looke vp a height, the ſhill-gorg'd Larke ſo farre
Cannot be ſeen, or heard: Do but looke vp.

Glon. Alacke, I haue no eyes:

Is wretchedneſſe depriu'd that benefit

To end it ſelfe by death? I was yet some comfort,

When miſery could beguile the Tyrans rage,

And fruſtrate his proud will.

Edg. Gieue me your arme.

Vp, ſo: How is't? Feele you your Legges? You ſtand,

Glon. Too well, too well.

Edg. This is aboue all ſtrangeneſſe,

Vpont the crowne o'th' Cliffe. What thing was that

Which parted from you?

Glon. A poore vnfortunate Beggar.

Edg. As I flood heere below, me thought his eyes
Were two full Moones: he had a thousand Notes,
Hornes weak'd, and waued like the enraged Sea:
It was ſome Fiend: Therefore thou happy Father,
I thinke that the cleereſt Gods, who make them Honors
Of mens Impossibilities, haue preferuered thee.

Glon. I do remember now: henceforth I beare

Affliction, till it do cry out it ſelfe

Enough, enough, and dye. That thing you ſpeake of,

I tooke it for a man: often 'twould say

The Fiend, the Fiend, he led me to that place.

Edgar. Beare free and patient thoughts.

Enter Lear.

But who comes heere?

The faſer ſenſe will ne're accommodate

His Maſter thus.

Lear. No, they cannot touch me for crying. I am the
King himſelfe.

Edg. O thou ſide-piercing fight!

Lear. Nature's aboue Art, in that reſpect. There's your
Přeffe-money. That fellow handles his bow, like a Crow-
keeper: draw mee a Cloathiers yard. Looke, looke, me
Mouſe: peace, peace, this peec of toaſted Cheeſe will
doo't. There's my Gauntlet. Ile proue it on a Gyant.
Bring vp the browne Billes. O well flowne Bird: i'th'
clout, i'th'clout: Hewgh. Gie the word.

Edg. Sweet Mariorum.

Lear. Paffe.

Glon. I know that voice.

Lear. Ha I Gonerill with a white beard? They flatter'd me like a Dogge, and told mee I had the white hayſes in my Beard, ere the blacke ones were there. To ſay I, and no, to euery thing that I faid: I, and no too, was no good Diuinity. When the raine came to wet me once, and the winde to make me chatter: when the Thunder would not peace at my bidding, there I found 'em, there I ſmelt 'em out. Go too, they are not men o'their words; they told me, I was euery thing: 'Tis a Lye, I am not Agu-proofe.

Glon. The tricke of that voyce, I do well remember:
Is't not the King?

Lear. I, euery inch a King.

When I do ſtare, ſee how the Subieſt quakes.

I pardon that mans life. What was thy cauſe?

Adultery? thou haſt not dye: dye for Adultery?

No, the Wren goes too't, and the ſmall gilded Fly

Do's letcher in my fight. Let Copulation thrive:

For Glouſters baſtard Son was kinder to his Father,

Then my Daughters got'tweene the lawſull ſheets.

Too't Luxury pell-mell, for I lacke Souldiers.

Behold yound ſimpring Dame, whose ſace betweene her
Forkes pretſages Snow; that minces Vertue, & do's ſhake
the head to heare of pleaſures name. The Fitchew, nor
the ſoſyed Horſe goes too't with a more riotous appetite.
Downe from the wafle they are Centaures, though
Women all aboue: but to the Girdle do the Gods inhe-
rit, beneath is all the Fiends. There's hell, there's darke-
nes, there is the ſulphurous piſ; burning, ſcalding, ſtanch,
conſumption: Fye, ſie, ſie; pah, pah: Gie me an Ounce
of Cuet; good Apothecary ſweeten my immagination:
There's money for thee.

Glon. O let me kiffes that hand.

Lear. Let me wipe it first,
It ſmelles of Mortality.

Glon. Oruin'd peece of Nature, this great world,

Shall ſo weare out to naught.

Do't thou know me?

Lear. I remember thine eyes well enough: doſt thou
ſquiny at me? No, do thy worſt blinde Cupid, Ile not
loue. Reade thou this challenge, maſke but the penning
of it.

Glon. Were all thy Letters Sunnes, I could not ſee.

Edg. I would not take this from report,

It is, and my heart breakes at it.

Lear. Read.

Glon. What with the Cafe of eyes?

Lear. Oh ho, are you there with me? No eies in your
head, nor no mony in your purſe? Your eyes are in a hea-
uy cafe, your purſe in a light, yet you ſee how this world
goes.

Glon. I ſee it feelingly.

Lear. What, art mad? A man may ſee how this world
goes, with no eyes. Looke with thine eares: See how
yond Iuſtice railes vpon yond ſimple theefe. Hearke in
thine eare: Change places, and handy-dandy, which is
the Iuſtice, which is the theefe: Thou haſt ſeene a Fa-
mers dogge barke at a Beggar?

Glon. I Sir.

Lear. And the Creature run from the Cur: there thou
might'ſt behold the great image of Authoritie, a Dogg's
obey'd in Office. Thou, Raſcall Beadle, hold thy bloody
hand: why doſt thou laſh at that Whore? Strip thy owne
backe, thou hotly luſts to vie her in that kind, for which
thou whip it her. The Vſurer hangs the Cozener, Tho-
rough

The Tragedie of King Lear.

304

rough tatter'd cloathes great Vices do appeare: Robes,
and Furr'd gownes hide all. Place finnes with Gold, and
the strong Lance of Justice, hurtleſſe breaks: Arme it in
ragges, a Pigmies ſtraw do's pierce it. None do's offend,
none, I ſay none, Ile able' em; take that of me my Friend,
who haue the power to feale th'acceſſers lips. Get thee
glaſſe-eyes, and like a ſcuruy Politician, ſeeme to fee the
things thou doſt not. Now, now, now, now. Pull off my
Bootes: harder, harder, ſo.

Edg. O matter, and impertinency mixt,
Reaſon in Madneſſe.

Lear. If thou wilt weepe my Fortunes, take my eyes,
I know thee well enough, thy name is Glouſter:
Thou muſt be patient; we came crying hither:
Thou know'ſt, the firſt time that we ſmell the Ayre
We wawle, and cry. I will preach to thee: Marke.

Glon. Alack, alacke the day.

Lear. When we are borne, we cry that we are come
To this great flagge of Fooles. This a good blocke:
It were a delicate ſtratagem, to ſhoo
A Troop of Horſe with Felt: Ile put't in proofe,
And when: I haue ſtolne vpon theſe Son in Lawes,
Then kill, kill, kill, kill, kill.

Enter a Gentleman.

Gent. Oh heere he is: lay hand vpon him, Sir.
Your moſt deere Daughter ______

Lear. No reſcue? What, a Prisone? I am euen
The Naturall Foole of Fortune. Vſe me well,
You ſhall haue ransome. Let me haue Surgeons,
I am cut to'rt'Braines.

Gent. You ſhall haue any thing.

Lear. No Seconds ? All my ſelfe?

Why, this would make a man, a man of Salt
To ſe his eyes for Garden water-pots. I wil die braulye,
Like a ſmugge Bridegroome. What? I will be Iouiall :
Come, come, I am a King, Maſters, know you that ?

Gent. You are a Royall one, and we obcy you.

Lear. Then there's life in't. Come, and you get it,
You ſhall get it by running: Sa, ſa, ſa, ſa.
Exit.

Gent. A ſight moſt pittifull in the mesenſt wretch,
Paſt ſpeaking of a King. Thou haſt a Daughter
Who redeemes Nature from the generall curſe
Which twaine haue brought her to.

Edg. Haile gentle Sir.

Gent. Sir, I ſpeed you: what's your will ?

Edg. Do you heare ought (Sir) of a Battell toward.

Gent. Moſt ſure, and vulgar:

Every one heares that, which can diſtinguſh ſound.

Edg. But by your ſauour :

How neere's the other Army ?

Gent. Neere, and on ſpeedy foot : the maine deſtry
Stands on the hourly thought.

Edg. I thanke you Sir, that's all.

Gent. Though that the Queen on ſpecial cause is here
Her Army is mou'd on. Exit.

Edg. I thanke you Sir.

Glon. You euer gentle Gods, take my breath from me,
Let not my worſer Spirit tempt me againe
To dye before you pleaſe.

Edg. Well pray you Father.

Glon. Now good fir, what are you ?

Edg. A moſt poor man, made tame to Fortunes blows
Who, by the Art of knowne, and ſeeling forrowes,
Am pregnant to good pitty. Giue me your hand,
Ile leade you to some biding.

Glon. Heartie thanks :

The bountie, and the benizon of Heauen
To boot, and boot.

Enter Steward.

Stew. A proclaim'd prize: moſt happie
That eyeleſſe head of thine, was firſt fram'd ſleſh
To raife my fortunes. Thou old, vnhappy Traitor,
Breeſely thy ſelfe remember : the Sword is out
That muſt destroy thee.

Glon. Now let thy friendly hand
Put ſtrength enough too't.

Stew. Wherefore, bold Pezant,
Dar'ſt thou ſupport a publifh'd Traitor ? Hence,
Leaſt that th'infec'tion of his fortune take
Like hold on thee. Let go his arme.

Edg. Chill not let go Zir,
Without further 'caſion.

Stew. Let go Slaue, or thou dy'ſt.

Edg. Good Gentleman goe your gate, and let poore
volke paffe: and 'chud ha' bin z waggerd out of my life,
'twould not ha'bin zo long as'tis, by a vortnight. Nay,
come not neere th'old man: keepe out che vor'ye, or ice
try whither your Coſtard, or my Ballow be the harder;
chill be plaine with you.

Stew. Out Dunghill.

Edg. Chill picke your teeth Zir: come, no matter vor
your ſoynes.

Stew. Slaue thou haſt ſlaine me: Villain, take my purſe;
If euer thou wilt thrive, bury my bodie,
And giue the Letters which thou find'ſt about me,
To Edmund Earle of Glouſter: ſeeke him out
Vpon the English party. Oh vntimely death, death.

Edg. I know thee well. A ſeruiceable Villaine,
As ducute to the vices of thy Miftris,
As badneſſe would deſire.

Glon. What, is he dead ?

Edg. Sit you downe Father: reſt you,
Let's ice theſe Pockets; the Letters that he ſpeakes of
May be my Friends: hee's dead; I am onely forſy
He had no other Deathſman. Let vs fee :
Leaue gentle waxe, and manners: blame vs not
To know our enemies mindes, we rip their hearts,
Their Papers is more lawfull.

Reads the Letter.

L
et our reciprocall vows be remembred. You hane manne
opportunities to euſt him off: if your will want not, time and
place will be fruitfully offer'd. There is nothing done. If hee
returne the Conqueror, then am I the Prisoner, and his bed, my
Gaole, from the loathed warmth whereof, deliver me, and ſup-
ply the place for your Labour.

Your (wife, so I would say) affeſtio-
nate Seruant. Gonerill.

Oh indinguſh'd ſpace of Womans will,
A plot vpon your vertuous Husbands life,
And the exchange my Brother: heere, in the lands
Thee Ile rake vp, the poſte vnſanctiſed
Of murtherous Letchers: and in the mature time,
With this vngracious paper ſtrike the fight
Of the death-practis'd Duke: for him 'tis well,
That of thy death, and buſineſſe, I can tell.

Glon. The King is mad:
How ſtiffe is my vilde ſenſe
That I ſtand vp, and haue ingenious ſeeling
Of my huge Sorrowes? Better I were diſtraſt,
So should my thoughts be ſeuer'd from my graeſes,

Drum afarre off.

And woes, by wrong imaginations looke

The

The Tragedie of King Lear.

305

The knowledge of themselves.

Edg. Giue me your hand :

Farre off methinkes I heare the beaten Drumme.

Come Father, Ile beflow you with a Friend.

Exeunt.

## Scena Septima.

Enter Cordelia, Kent, and Gentleman.

Cor. O thou good Kent,
How shall I liue and worke
To match thy goodueffe ?
My life will be too short,
And every meaure faile me.

Kent. To be acknowledd' Madam is ore-pai'd,
All my reports go with the modell truth,
Nor more, nor clipt, but so.

Cor. Be better suited,

These weedes are memories of those worfer houres :
I prythee put them off.

Kent. Pardon deere Madam,

Yet to be knowne shortens my made intent,
My boone I make it, that you know me not,
Till time, and I, thinke meet.

Cor. Then be't so my good Lord :

How do's the King ?

Gent. Madam sleepe's still.

Cor. O you kind Gods !

Cure this great breach in his abufed Nature,
Th'vntun'd and iarring senſes, O winde vp,
Of this childe, changed Father.

Gent. So pleate your Maieſty,

That we may wake the King, he hath flept long?

Cor. Be gouern'd by your knowledge, and proceede
I' th' way of your owne will : is he array'd?

Enter Lear in a chaire carried by Servants.

Gent. I Madam: in the heauineſſe of sleepe,
We put fresh garments on him.
Be by good Madam when we do awake him,
I doubt of his Temperance.

Cor. O my deere Father, reſtaurational hang
Thy medicine on my lippes, and let this kiffe
Repare those violent harmes, that my two Sifters
Haue in thy Reuerence made.

Kent. Kind and deere Princesse.

Cor. Had you not bin their Father, those white flakes
Did challenge pitty of them. Was this a face
To be oppos'd againſt the iarring windes?
Mine Enemies dogge, though he had bit me,
Should haue flood that night againſt my fire,
And was't thou faine (poore Father)
To houell thee with Swineand Rogues forlorne,
In ſhort, and muſtly ſraw? Alacke, alacke,
'Tis wonder that thy life and wits, at once
Had not concluded all. He wakes, ſpeake to him.

Gent. Madam do you, 'tis ſitteſt.

Cor. How does my Royall Lord ?

How fares your Maieſty?

Lear. You do me wrong to take me out o'th' graue,
Thou art a Soule in blifſe, but I am bound

Upon a wheele of fire, that mine owne teares
Do fal'd, like molten Lead.

Cor. Sir, do you know me ?

Lear. You are a fpirit I know, where did you dye?

Cor. Still, still, farre wide.

Gen. He's ſcarſe awake,

Let him alone a while.

Lear. Where haue I bin?

Where am I ? Faire day light?

I am mightily abus'd; I ſhould eu'n dye with pitty
To fee another thus. I know not what to ſay :

I will not ſweare these are my hands: let's fee,
I feele this pin pricke, would I were affur'd
Of my condition,

Cor. O looke upon me Sir,
And hold your hand in benediction o're me,
You muſt not kneele.

Lear. Pray do not mocke me:

I am a very foolish ſond old man,
Foure ſcore and vpward,

Not an houre more, nor leſſe :

And to deale plainly,

I feare I am not in my perſeſt mind.

Me thinkes I should know you, and know this man,
Yet I am doubtfull : For I am mainly ignorant
What place this is; and all the skill I haue
Remembers not those ſarments : nor I know not
Where I did lodge laſt night. Do not laugh at me,
For (as I am a man) I thinke this Lady

To my childe (Cordelia).

Cor. And so I am: I am,

Lear. Be your teares wet?

Yes faith : I pray weep not,

If you haue poyſon for me, I will drinke it :

I know you do not loue me, for your Sifters
Haue (as I do remember) done me wrong.

You haue ſome cauſe, they haue not.

Cor. No cauſe, no cauſe,

Lear. Am I in France ?

Kent. In your owne kingdome Sir.

Lear. Do not abufe me.

Gent. Be comforted good Madam, the great rags
You fee is kill'd in him: defire him to go in,
Trouble him no more till further fetling.

Cor. Wilt please you Highneſſe wale?

Lear. You muſt beare with me :

Pray you now forget, and forgiue,
I am old and foolish.

Exeunt.

## Actus Quintus. Scena Prima.

Enter with Drumme and Colours, Edmund, Regan.
Gentlemen, and Souldiers.

Baſt. Know of the Duke if his laſt purpofe hold,
Or whether ſince he is aduis'd by ought
To change the courſe, he's full of alteration,
And ſelſereprouing, bring his conſant pleasure.

Reg. Our Sifters man is certainly miſcarried.

Baſt. 'Tis to be doubted Madam.

Reg. Now sweet Lord,

You

The Tragedie of King Lear.

306

You know the goodneſſe I intend vpon you:
Tell me but truly, but then I ſpeak the truth,
Do you not loue my Sifter?

Baſt. In honour'd Loue.

Reg. But haue you neuer found my Brothers way,
To the fore-fended place?

Baſt. No by mine honour, Madam.

Reg. I neuer ſhall endure her, deere my Lord
Be not familiar with her.

Baſt. Feare not, ſhe and the Duke her husband.

Enter with Drum and Colours, Albany, Gonerill, Soldiers.

Alb. Our very louing Sifter, well be-met:
Sir, this I heard, the King is come to his Daughter
With others, whom the rigour of our State
Forc'd to cry out.

Regan. Why is this reaſon'd?

Gone. Combine together' gainſt the Enemie :
For theſe domeſticke and particuſtular broiles,
Are not the queſtion heere.

Alb. Let's then determine with th'ancient of warre
On our proceeding.

Reg. Sifter you'l go with vs?

Gon. No.

Reg. 'Tis moſt conuenient, pray go with vs.

Gon. Oh ho, I know the Riddle, I will goe.

Exeunt both the Armies.

Enter Edgar.

Ed. If ere your Grace had ſpeech with man so poore,
Heare me one word.

Alb. Ile ouertake you, ſpeake.

Ed. Before you fight the Battaile, ope this Letter:
If you haue victory, let the Trumpet found
For him that brought it; wretched though Iſeeme,
I can produce a Champion, that will proue
What is auouched there. If you miſcarry,
Your buſineſſe of the world hath so an end,
And machination ceaſes. Fortune loues you.

Alb. Stay till I haue read the Letter.

Ed. I was forbid it :
When time shall ferue, let but the Herald cry,
And Ile appeare againe.

Exit.

Alb. Why farethee well, I will o're-looke thy paper.

Enter Edmund,

Baſt. The Enemy's in view, draw vp your powers,
Heere is the gueſſe of their true ſtrength and Forces,
By diſtigent diſcouerie, but your haſt
Is now vrg'd on you.

Alb. We will greet the time.

Exit.

Baſt. To both theſe Sifters haue I ſworne my loue:
Each icalous of the other, as the ſtung
Are of the Adder. Which of them ſhall I take ?
Both ? One? Or neither ? Neither can be enioy'd
If both remaine alive: To take the Widdow,
Exasperates, makes mad her Sifter Gonerill,
And hardly ſhall I carry out my ſide,
Her husband being alive. Now then, wee'l vſe
His countenance for the Battaile, which being done,
Let her who would be rid of him, deuife
His ſpeedy taking off. As for the mercie
Which he intends to Lear and to Cordelia,
The Battaile done, and they within our power,

Shall neuer fee his pardon: for my ſtate,
Stands on me to defend, not to debate.

Exeunt.

## Scena Secunda.

Alarum within. Enter with Drumme and Colours, Lear,
Cordelia, and Souldiers, ouer the Stage, and Exeunt.

Enter Edgar, and Glofter.

Ed. Heere Father, take the ſhadow of this Tree
For your good hoaſt: pray that the right may thriue:
If euern I returne to you againe,
Ile bring you comfort.

Glo. Grace go with you Sir.

Exeunt.

Alarum and Retreat within.

Enter Edgar.

Egdar. Away old man, giue me thy hand, away:
King Lear hath loft he and his Daughters tane,
Giu'e me thy hand: Come on.

Glo. No further Sir, a man may rot euen heere.

Ed. What in ill thoughts againe ?
Men muſt endure

Their going hence, euen as their comming hither,
Ripeneſſe is all come on.

Glo. And that's true too.

Exeunt.

## Scena Tertia.

Enter in conqueſt with Drum and Colours, Edmund, Lear,
and Cordelia, as prisoners, Souldiers, Captaine.

Baſt. Some Officers take them away: good guard,
Vnaill their greater pleaſures firſt be knowne
That are to censure them.

Cor. We are not the firſt,

Who with beſt meaning haue incurr'd the worſt:
For theſe oppreſſed King I am caſt downe,
My ſelſe could eſſe our ſrowne false Fortunes ſrowne.
Shall we not fee theſe Daughters, and theſe Sifters ?

Lear. No, no, no, no: come let's away to prifon,
We two alone will ſing like Birds i'th'Cage:
When thou doſt aske me bleſſing, Ile kneele downe
And aske of thee forgiueneſſe: So wee'l liue,
And pray, and ſing, and tell old tales, and laugh
At gilded Butterflies: and heere (poore Rogues)
Take of Court newes, and wee'l taſke with them too,
Who looſes, and who wins; who's in, who's out;
And take vpon's the myſtery of things,
As if we were Gods ſpies: And wee'l weare out
In a wall'd prifon, packs and feſts of great ones,
That ebbe and flow by th' Moone.

Baſt. Take them away.

Lear. Vpon ſuch ſacrifices my Cordelia,
The Gods themſelues throw Incense.

Hae I caught thee?

He that parts vs, ſhall bring a Brand from Heauen,
And fire vs hence, like Foxes: wipe thine eyes,
The good yeares ſhall deuoure them, ſleſh and fell,

Ere

The Tragedie of King Lear.

307

Ere they shall make vs weepe ?

Weele see e'm staru'd fit : come.

Bast. Come hither Captaine, hearke.

Exit.

Take this note, go follow them to prifon,
One step I have aduanc'd thee, if thou do'ft
As this instructs thee, thou doft make thy way
To Noble Fortunes: know thou this, that men
Are as the time is; to be tender minded
Do's not become a Sword, thy great employment
Will not beare question: either say thou'lt do't,
Or thrive by other meanes.

Capt. Ile do't my Lord.

Bast. About it, and write happy, when th'haft done,
Marke I lay instantly, and carry it to
As I haue let it downe.
Exit Captaine.

Flourish. Enter Albany, Gonerill, Regan, Soldiers.

Alb. Sir, you haue shew'd to day your valiant fraine
And Fortune led you well: you have the Captiues
Who were the oppofites of this day's fitre:
I do require them of you to vse them,
As we shall find their merites, and our safety
May equally determine.

Bast. Sir, I thought it fit,

To fend the old and miferable King to some retention,
Whose age had Charmes in it, whose Title more,
To plucke the common boſome on his ſide,
And turne our impreſt Launces in our eies
Which do command them. With him I ſent the Queen:
My reaſon all the fame, and they are ready
To morrow, or at further ſpace, I'appeare
Where you ſhall hold your ſellion.

Alb. Sir, by your patience,
I hold you but a fubieſt of this Warre,
Not as a Brother.

Reg. That's as we lift to grace him.

Methinkes our pleasure might haue bin demanded
Ere you had ſpoke to ſfarre. He led our Powers,
Bore the Commiffion of my place and perſon,
The which immediacie may well stand vp,
And call it ſelfe your Brother.

Gon. Not so hot:

In his owne grace he doth exalt himselfe,
More then in your addition.

Reg. In my rights,

By me inveſted, he compeeres the beſt.

Alb. That were the moſt, if he should husband you.

Reg. Teſters do oft proue Prophets.

Gon. Hola, hola!

That eye that told you to ſo, look'd but a ſquint.

Rega. Lady I am not well, eſſe I should anſwere

From a full flowing ſtomack. Generall,
Take thou my Souldiers, prifoners, patrimony,
Diſpoſe of them, of me, the walls is thine:
Witneſſe the world, that I create thee heere
My Lord, and Maſter.

Gon. Meane you to enioy him?

Alb. The let alone lies not in your good will.

Bast. Nor in thine Lord.

Alb. Halſe-blood eu ſellow, yes.

Reg. Let the Drum ſtrike, and proue my title thine.

Alb. Stay yet, heare reaſon: Edmund, I arreſt thee
On capitall Treason; and in thy arreſt,

This gilded Serpent: for your claime faire Sifters,
I bare it in the intereſt of my wife,

'Tis he is ſub-contraſted to this Lord,
And I her husband contradict your Banes.
If you will marry, make your loues to me,
My Lady be beſpoke.

Gon. An enterlude.

Alb. Thou art armed Gleſter,
Let the Trumpet found :

If none appeare to proue vpon thy perſon,
Thy heynous, manifeſt, and many Treſons,
There is my pledge: I'll make it on thy heart
Ere I taſte bread, thou art in nothing leſſe
Then I have heere proclaim'd thee.

Reg. Sicke, O ſicke.

Gon. If not, I leare truſt medicine.

Bast. There's my exchange, what in the world hes
That names me Traitor, villain-like he lies,
Call by the Trumpet: he that dares approach
Or him, on you, who not, I will maintaine
My truth and honor firmly.

Enter a Herald.

Alb. A Herald, ho.

Traſt to thy single verue, for thy Souldiers
All leuied in my name, haue in my name
Tooke their datcharge.

Regan. My ſickneſſe growes vpon me.

Alb. She is not well, conuey her to my Tent.
Come hither Herald, let the Trumper found,
And read out this.

Herald reads.

A Trumpet founds.

I, any man of qualitie or degree, within the lift of the Army, will maintaine vpon Edmund, supposed Earle of Gloſter, that he is a manifold Traitor, let him appeare by the third found of the Trumpet: he is bold in his defence.

Her. Againe.

2 Trumpet.

Her. Againe.

3 Trumpet.

Trumpet answers within.

Enter Edgar armed.

Alb. Aske him his purpofes, why he appeares
Vpon this Call o'th'Trumpet.

Her. What are you?

Your name, your quality, and why you anſwer
This preſent Sammons?

Edg. Know my name is loſt

By Treſons tooth: bare-gnawne, and Canker-bit,
Yet am I Noble as the Aduerfary
I come to cope.

Alb. Which is that Aduerfary ?

Edg. What's that he ſpeakes for Edmund Earle of Glo-
Bast. Himſelfe, what (taſt) thou to him ? (her?

Edg. Draw thy Sword.

That if my ſpeech offenſe a Noble heart,
Thy arme may do thee Juitice, heere is mine:
Behold it is my priuilege,

The priuilege of mine Honours,
My oath, and my profefſion. I protest,
Maugre thy ſtrength, place, youth, and eminence,
Despife thy vicerſor-Sword, and fire new Fortune,
Thy valor, and thy heart, thou art a Traitor :
False to thy Gods, thy Brother, and thy Father,
Conſpirant 'gainſt this high illuſtrious Prince,
And from th'extremelt vpward of thy head,
To the diſcent and duſt below thy foote,

ff 2

The Tragedie of King Lear.

38

A most Toad-spotted Traitor. Say thou no,
This Sword, this arme, and my belt spirits are bent
To proue vpon thy heart, whereto I speake,
Thou lyeft.

Bast. In wisedome I should aske thy name,
But fince thy out-side lookse so faire and Warlike,
And that thy tongue (some say) of breeding breathes,
What lafe, and nicely I might well delay,
By rule of Knight-hood, I difdaine and spurne:
Backe do I toſſe theſe Treafons to thy head,
With the hell-hated Lye, ore-whelme thy heart,
Which for they yet glance by, and ſcarely bruife,
This Sword of mine ſhall giue them inſant way,
Where they ſhall reſt for euer. Trumpets ſpeake.

Alb. Sae him, ſaue him.

Alarums. Fights.

Gon. This is praſtife Gloſter,

By th'law of Warre, thou waſt not bound to anſwer
Au vnknowne oppoſite: thou art not vanquifh'd,
But cozend, and be guild.

Alb. Shut your mouth Dame,

Or with this papet ſhall I ſtop it: hold Sir,
Thou worſe then any name, reade thine owne cuill :
No tearing Lady, I perceiue you know it.

Gon. Say if I do, the Lawes are mine not thine,
Who can araigne me for't?

Exit.

Alb. Moſt monſtrous ! O, know'ſt thou this paper?

Bast. Aske me not what I know.

Alb. Go after her, ſhe's desperate, gouerne her.

Bast. What you haue charg'd me with,

That haue I done,
And more, much more, the time will bring it out.
'Tis paſt, and fo am I: But what art thou
That haſt this Fortune on me? If thou'rt Noble,
I do forgiue thee.

Edg. Let's exchange charity:

I am no leſſe in blood then thou art Edmond,
If more the morſt haſt wrong'd me.

My name is Edgar and thy Fathers Sonne,
The Gods are inſt, and of our pleafant vices
Make inſtruments to plague vs :

The darke and viitious place where thee he got,
Coſt him his eyes.

Bast. Th'haſt ſpoken right, 'tis true,

The Wheele is come full circle, I am heere.

Alb. Me thought thy very gate did propheſſe
A Royall Noblenſe: I muſt embrace thee,
Let ſorrow ſplit my heart, if euer I
Did hate thee, or thy father.

Edg. Worthy Prince I know't.

Alb. Where haue you hid your ſelfe ?

How haue you knowne the milſeries of your Father?

Edg. By purſing them my Lord. Lift a breeſe tale,
And when 'cis told, O that my heart would burſt.

The bloody proclamation to eſcape
That follow'd me ſo neere, (O our liues ſweetneſſe,
That we the paine of death would hourly dye,

Rather then die at once) taught me to ſhift

Into a mad-mans rags, t'asſume a ſemblance

That very Dogges diddain'd: and in this habit

Met I my Father with his bleeding Rings,
Their precious Stones new loſt: became his guide,
Led him, begg'd for him, ſau'd him from diſpaire.

Neuer (O fault) reueal'd my ſelfe vnto him,
Vntill ſome halſe houre paſt when I was arm'd,
Not ſure, though hoping of this good ſuccesse,
I ask'd his bleſſing, and from firſt to laſt

Told him our pilgrimage. But his flaw'd heart
(Alacke too weake the conflict to ſupport)
Twixt two extremes of paſſion, ioy and greeſe,
Burſt smilingly.

Bast. This ſpeech of yours hath mou'd me,
And ſhall perchance do good, but ſpeake you on,
You looke as you had ſomething more to ſay.

Alb. If there be more, more wo full, hold it in,
For I am almost ready to diſſolue,
Hearing of this.

Enter a Gentleman.

Gen. Helpe, helpe: O helpe.

Edg. What kinde of helpe ?

Alb. Speake man.

Edg. What means this bloody Knif?

Gen. 'Tis hot, it ſmoakes, it came euen from the heart
of— O ſhe's dead.

Alb. Who dead? Speake man.

Gen. Your Lady Sir, your Lady; and her Sifter
By her is poyſon'd: ſhe confesses it.

Bast. I was contracted to them both, all three
Now marry in an inflant.

Edg. Here comes Kent.

Enter Kent.

Alb. Produce the bodies, be they alive or dead;

Conevill and Regans bodies brought en.

This iudgement of the Heauens that makes vs tremble,
Touches vs not with pitty: O, is this he?

The time will not allow the complement
Which very manners vrges.

Kent. I am come

To bid my King and Maſter aye good night.

Is he not here?

Alb. Great thing of vs ſ杂志

Speake Edmund, where's the King ? and where's, Cordelia?

See ſt this obieſt Kent?

Kent. Alack, why thus?

Bast. Yet Edmund was belou'd:

The one the other poſſon'd for my ſake,
And after flew her ſelſe.

Alb. Euen ſo: cover their faces.

Bast. Ipant for life: ſome good I meane to do
Deiſpight of mine owne Nature. Quickly ſend,
(Be briefe in it) to'th' Castle, for my Writ
Is on the life of Lear, and on Cordelia :

Nay, ſend in time.

Alb. Run, run, O run.

Edg. To who my Lord? Who ha's the Office?
Send thy token of repreuſe.

Bast. Well thought on, take my Sword,
Gie it the Captaine.

Edg. Haſt thee for thy life.

Bast. He hath Commission from thy Wife and me,
To hang Cordelia in the prifon, and
To lay the blame vpon her owne diſpaire,
That ſhe for-did her ſelfe.

Alb. The Gods defend her, beare him hence a while.

Enter Lear with Cordelia in his armes.

Lear. Howle, howle, howle: O your are men of ſtones,
Had I your tongues and eyes, I'll vſe them ſo,
That Heauens vault ſhould crack: ſhe's gone for euer.
I know when one is dead, and when one liues,
She's dead as earth: Lend me a Looking-glaſſe,

The Tragedie of King Lear.

309

If that her breath will mift or ftaine the stone,
Why then the liues.

Kent. Is this the promis'd end?

Edg. Or image of that horror.

Alb. Fall and ceafe.

Lear. This feather flirs, the liues: if it be so,
It is a chance which do's redeem allorrowes
That euer I haue felt.

Kent. O my good Mafter.

Lear. Prythe away.

Edg. 'Tis noble Kent your friend.

Lear. A plague vpon you Murderors, Traitors all,
I might haue fau'd her, now she's gone for euer :
Cordelia, Cordelia, stay a little. Ha:

What is't thou faift? Her voice was euer soft,

Gentle, and low, an excellent thing in woman.

I kill'd the Slave that was a hanging thee.

Kent. 'Tis true (my Lords) he did.

Lear. Did I not fellow?

I haue feene the day, with my good biting Faulchion

I would haue made him skip: I am old now,

And these fame croffes, spoile me. Who are you?

Mine eyes are not o'th'beaſt, Ile tell you ſtraight.

Kent. If Fortune brag of two, the lou'd and hated,
One of them we behold.

Lear. This is a dull fight, are you not Kent?

Kent. The fame : your Servant Kent,

Where is your Servant Caius ?

Lear. He's a good fellow, I can tell you that,

He'le ſtrike and quickly too, he's dead and rotten.

Kent. No my good Lord, I am the very man.

Lear. Ile fee that ſtraight.

Kent. That from your firſt of difference and decay,
Haue follow'd your ſad ſteps.

Lear. Your are welcome hither.

Kent. Nor no man else:

All's cheerleſſe, darke, and deadly,

Your eldeſt Daughters haue ſore-done themſelues,

And desperately are dead.

Lear. I, so I thinke.

Alb. He knowes not what he faies, and vaiue is it

That we preſent vs to him.

Enter a Meſſewger.

Edg. Very bootleſſe.

Meſſ. Edmund is dead my Lord.

Alb. That's but a trifle here:

You Lords and Noble Friends, know our intent,
What comfort to this great decay may come,
Shall be appli'd. For vs we will reſigne,
During the life of this old Maieſty

To him our absolute power, you to your rights,
With boote, and such addition as your Honours
Haue more then merited. All Friends shall
Taſe the wages of their vertue, and all Foes
The cup of their deferuings : O fee, fee.

Lear. And my poere Foole is hang'd: no, no, no life?
Why ſhould a Dog, a Horſe, a Rat haue life,
And thou no breath at all? Thou'lt come no more,

Neuer, neuer, neuer, neuer, neuer.

Pray you vndo this Button. Thanke you Sir,
Do you fee this? Looke on her? Looke her lips,
Looke there, looke there.

He diſ.

Edg. He faints, my Lord, my Lord.

Kent. Breake heart, I prythe breake.

Edg. Looke vp my Lord.

Kent. Vex not his ghoff, O let him paffe, he hates him,
That would vpon the wracke of this tough world
Stretch him out longer.

Edg. He is gon indeed.

Kent. The wonder is, he hath endur'd ſo long,
He but vſurpt his life.

Alb. Beare them from hence, our preſent buſineſſe
Is generall woe: Friends of my ſoule, you twaine,
Rule in this Realme, and the gor'd ſtate ſuſtaine.

Kent. I haue a journey Sir, ſhortly to go,
My Maſter calls me, I muſt not ſay no.

Edg. The weight of this ſad time we muſt obey,
Speake what we feele, not what we ought to ſay :
The oldeſt hath borne moſt, we that are yong,
Shall neuer fee ſo much, nor liue ſo long.

Exenut with a dead March.

ſſ 3

FINIS.

The Tragedie of Othello

THE TRAGEDIE OF
Othello, the Moore of Venice.

Actus Primus. Scæna Prima.

Enter Rodorigo, and Iago.

Rodorigo.

Euer tell me, I take it much vnkindly
That thou (Iago) who haſt had my purſe,
As ifſtrings were thine, should'ſt know of this.
Ia. But you'l not heare me. If euer I did dream

Of such a matter, abhorre me.

Rodo. Thou told'ſt me,

Thou did'ſt hold him in thy hate.

Iago. Despife me

If I donot. Three Great-ones of the Cittie,
(In perſonall ſuite to make me his Lieutenant)

Off-capt to him: and by the faith of man.

I know my price, I am worth no worſe a place.

But he (as louing his owne pride, and purpofes)

Euades them, with a bumbaſt Circumſtance,

Horridly flufft with Epithites of warre,

Non-ſuites my Mediators. For certes, faies he,

I haue already chofe my Officer. And what was he ?

For-footh, a great Arithmatician,

One Michael Caffio, a Florentine,

(A Fellow almoſt damn'd in a faire Wife)

That neuer ſet a Squadron in the Field,

Nor the deuifion of a Battaille knowes

More then a Spinſter. Vuleſſe the Bookiſh Theoricke :

Wherein the Tongued Conſuls can propoſe

As Maſterly as he. Meere pratle (without pradſe)

Is all his Souldierſhip. But he (Sir) had th'eleſtions

And I (of whom his eies had ſeene the proofe)

At Rhodes, at Ciprus, and on others grounds

Chriften'd, and Heathen) muſt be be-ieed, and calm'd

By Debitor, and Creditor. This Counter-caſter,

He (in good time) muſt his Lieutenant be,

And I (bleſſe the marke) his Mooreſhips Auntient.

Rod. By heauen. I rather would haue bin his hangman.

Iago. Why, there's no remedie.

'Tis the curſe of ſeruice;

Preferment goes by Letter, and affection,

And not by old gradation, where each ſecond

Stood Heire to th'fitſt. Now Sir, be judge your ſelfe,

Whether I in any inſt terme am Affin'd

To loue the Moore?

Rod. I would not follow him then.

Iago. O Sir, content you.

I follow him, to ſerue my turne vpon him.

We cannot all be Maſters, nor all Maſters

Cannot be truely follow'd. You ſhall marke

Many a dutious and knee-croking knaue;

That (doting on his owne obſequious bondage)

Weares out his time, much like his Maſters Aſſe,

For naught but Prouender, & when he's old Caſneer'd.

Whip me ſuch honest knaues. Others there are

Who trym'd in Formes, and viſages of Dutie,

Keepe yet their hearts attending on themſelues,

And throwing but ſhowes of ſeruice on their Lords

Doe well thrive by them.

And when they haue lin'd their Coates

Doe themſelues Homage.

Theſis Fellowes haue ſome ſoule,

And ſuch a one do I proſeſe my ſelfe. For (Sir)

It is as ſure as you are Rodorigo,

Were I the Moore, I would not be Iago :

In following him, I follow but my ſelfe.

Heauen is my Iudge, not I for loue and dutie,

But ſeeming ſo, for my peculiar end :

For when my outward Aſtion doth demonſtrate

The native act, and figure of my heart

In Complement externe, 'tis not long after.

But I will weare my heart vpon my ſleeue

For Dawes to pecke at; I am not what I am.

Rod. What a fall Fortune do's the Thicks-lips owe
If he can carry't thus?

Iago. Call vp her Father :

Rowle him, make aſter him, poyſon his delight,

Proclaime him in the Streets. Incenſe her kinſmen,

And though he in a ſerillie Clymate dwell,

Plague him with Flies: though that his Joy be Joy,

Yet throw ſuch chances of vexation on't,

As it may looke ſome colour.

Rod. Heere is her Fathers houſe, Ile call aloud.

Iago. Doe, with like timerous accent, and dire yell,

As when (by Night and Negligence) the Fire

Is ſpied in populus Citties.

Rod. What hoa : Prabantio, Signior Brabantio, hoa.

Iago. Awake: what hoa, Prabantio: Theeues, Theeues.

Looke to your houſe, your daughter, and your Bags,

Theeues, Theeues.

Bra. Abone. What is the reaſon of this terrible

Summons? What is the matter there?

Rod. Signior is all your Famili within ?

Iago. Are your Doores lock'd ?

Bra. Why? Wherefore ask you this?

Iago. Sir, y'are rob'd, for ſhame put on your Gowne,
Your

the Moore of Venice.

311

Your heart is burst, you haue loft halfe your foule
Euen now, now, very now, an old blacke Ram
Is tupping your white Ewe. Arife, arife,
Awake the morning Citizens with the Bell,
Or else the deuill will make a Grand-fire of you.
Arife I fay.

Bra. What, haue you loft your wits ?

Rod. Most reuerend Signior, do you know my voice?

Bra. Not I: what are you?

Rod. My name is *Rodorigo*.

Bra. The worffer welcome :

I haue charg'd thee not to haunt about my doors:
In honest plaineneſſe thou haſt heard me ſay,
My Daughter is not for thee. And now in madneſſe
(Being full of Supper, and diſlemping draughtes)
Vpon malicious knauerie, doſt thou come

To start my quiet.

Rod. Sir, Sir, Sir.

Bra. But thou muſt needs be ſure,
My ſpirits and my place haue in their power
To make this bitter to thee.

Rodo. Patience good Sir.

Bra. What tell it thou me of Robbing ?
This is Venice: my houſe is nor a Grange.

Rodo. Moſt graue Brabantio,
In ſimple and pure ſoule, I come to you.

Ia. Sir: you are one of those that will not ſerve God,
if the deuill bid you. Because we come to do you ſeruice,
and you thinke we are Ruſtians, you'l haue your Daugh-
ter couer'd with a Barbary horle, you'l haue your Ne-
phewes neigh to you, you'l haue Courſers for Cozens :
and Gennets for Germaines.

Bra. What prophane wretch are thou?

Ia. I am one Sir, that comes to tell you, your Daugh-
ter and the Moore, are making the Beaſt with two backs.

Bra. Thou are a Villaine.

Iago. You are a Senator.

Bra. This thou ſhalt anſwere. I know thee *Rodorigo*.

Rod. Sir, I will anſwere any thing. But I beſeech you
If I be your pleaſure, and moſt wife ſentent,
(As partly I find it is ) that your faire Daughter,
At this odde Euen and dull watch o'th'night
Transported with no worſe not better guard,
But with a knaue of common hire, a Gundelier,
To the groſſe clasſes of a Laſciouſous Moore :
If this be knowne to you, and your Allowance,
We then haue done you bold, and ſaucie wrongs.
But if you know not this, my Manners tell me,
We haue your wrong rebuke. Do not beleeue
That from the fence of all Ciuilitie,
I thus would play and trifle with your Reuerence.
Your Daughter (if you haue not giuen her leaue)
I fay againe, hath made a groſſe reuolt,
Tying her Dutie, Beautie, Wit, and Fortunes
In an extrauagant, and wheeling Stranger,
Of here, and euery where: a ſtraight fat ſtie your ſelfe.
If the be in her Chamber, or your houſe,
Let loose on me the Iuſtlice of the State
For thus deluding you.

Bra. Strike on the Tender, hoa:

Gie me a Taper : call vp all my people,
This Accident is not vnlike my dreame,
Bel'eefe of it oppreſſes me already.
Light, I fay, light.

Iago. Farewell: for I muſt leaue you.

It ſeemes not meete, nor wholeſome to my place

Exit.

To be produc'd, (as if I ſtay, I shall,)
Against the Moore. For I do know the State,
(How euuer this may gail him with ſome checke)
Cannot with ſafetie caſt him. For he's embark'd
With ſuch loud reaſon to the Cyprus Warres,
(Which euen now ſtands in Act) that for their ſoules
Another of his Iadome, they haue none,
To lead their Buſineſſe. In which regard,
Though I do haue him as I do hell apines,
Yet, for neceſſitie of preſent life,
I muſt ſhow out a Flag, and ſigne of Loue,
(Which is indeed but ſigne) that you ſhal ſurely find him
Lead to the Sagittary the raiſed Search:
And there will I be with him. So farewell.
Exit.

Enter Brabantio, with Seruants and Torches.

Bra. It is too true an euill. Gone ſhe is,
And what's to come of my deſpited time,
Is naught but bitterneſſe. Now *Rodorigo*,
Where didſt thou ſee her? (Oh vnhappie Girle)
With the Moore ſaſt thou? (Who would be a Father ?)
How didſt thou know 'twas ſhe? (Oh ſhe deceaues me
Paſt thought:) what ſaid ſhe to you? Get moe Tapers :
Raife all my Kindred. Are they married thinke you?

Rod. Truly I thinke they are.

Bra. Oh Heauen: how got ſhe out ?
Oh treaſon of the blood.
Fathers, from hence truſt not your Daughters minds
By what you ſee them act. Is there not Charmes,
By which the propertie of Youth, and Maidhood
May be abus'd ? Haue you not read *Rodorigo*,
Of ſome ſuch thing?

Rod. Yes Sir: I haue indeed.

Bra. Call vp my Brother: oh would you had had her,
Some one way, ſome another. Doe you know
Where we may apprehend her, and the Moore ?
Rod. I thinke I can diſcouer him, if you please

To get good Guard, and go along with me.

Bra. Pray you lead on. At euery houſe I call,
(I may command at moſt) get Weapons (hoa)
And raife ſome ſpeciall Officers of might :
On good *Rodorigo*, I will deferue your paines.
Exenunt.

## Scena Secunda.

Enter Othello, Iago, Attendants, with Torches.

Ia. Though in the trade of Warre I haue ſlaine men,
Yet do I hold it very ſtuffe o'th'conſience
To do no contriu'd Murder: I lacke Iniquitie
S ometime to do me ſeruice. Nine, or ten times
I had thought t'haue yerk'd him here vnder the Ribbes.

Othello. 'Tis better as it is.

Iago. Nay but he prated,
And spoke ſuch ſcuruy, and prouoking terms
Against your Honor, that with the little godlineſſe I haue
I did full hard forbeare him. But I pray you Sir,
Are you aſt married ? Be aſſu'd of this,
That the Magnifico is much belou'd,
And hath in his effect a voice potentiall
As double as the Dukes: He will diuorce you,
Or put upon you, what restraint or greeneance,

The

The Tragedie of Othello

The Law (with all his might, to enforce it on)
Will gie him Cable.

Othel. Let him do his spight;
My Services, which I haue done the Signorie
Shall out-tongue his Complaints. 'Tis yet to know,
Which when I know, that boasting is an Honour,
I shall promulgate. I fetch my life and being,
From Men of Royall Seige. And my demerites
May speake (vnbonnetted) to as proud a Fortune
As this that I haue reach'd. For know Iago,
But that I loue the gentle Desdemona,
I would not my vnhousted free condition
Put into Circumfeription, and Confine,
For the Seas worth. But looke, what Lights come yond?

Enter Caffio, with Torches.

Iago. Those are the raiſed Father, and his Friends:
You were beſt go in.

Othel. Not I: I muſt be found.
My Parts, my Title, and my perſect Soule
Shall maniſeſt me rightly. Is it they?

Iago. By Iams, I thinke no.

Othel. The Seruants of the Dukes?

And my Lieutenant?
The goodneſſe of the Night vpon you (Friends)
What is the Newes?

Caffio. The Duke do's greet you (Generall)
And he requires your haſte, Poſt-haſte appearance,
Enen on the inſant.

Othello. What is the matter, thinke you?

Caffio. Something from Cyprus, as I may diuine:
It is a buſineſſe of ſome heate. The Gallies
Haue ſent a dozen ſequent Meſſengers
This very night, at one anothers heeles:
And many of the Conſuls, rais'd and met,
Are at the Dukes already. You haue bin hortely call'd for,
When being not at your Lodging to be found,
The Senate hath ſent about three ſeuerall Queſts,
To ſearch you out.

Othel. 'Tis well I am found by you:
I will but ſpend a word here in the houſe,
And goe with you.

Caffio. Aunciant, what makes he heere?

Iago. Faith, he to night hath boarded a Land Carraſt,
If it proue lawfull prize, he's made for euer.

Caffio. I do not uſtend.

Iago. He's married.

Caffio. To who?

Iago. Marry to — Come Captaine, will you go?

Othel. Haue with you.

Caffio. Here come another Troope to feeke for you.

Enter Trabantio, Roderigo, with Officers, and Torches.

Iago. It is Brabantio: Generall be aduis'd,
He comes to bad intent.

Othello. Holla, stand there.

Rodo. Signior, it is the Moore.

Bra. Downe with him, Theeſe.

Iago. You, Roderigo? Cme Sir, I am for you.

Othel. Keepe vp your bright Words, for the dew will
ruſt them. Good Signior, you shall more command with
yeares, then with your Weapons.

Bra. Oh thou foule Theeſe,

Where haſt thou flow'd my Daughter?
Damn'd as thou art, thou haſt enchaunted her

For Ile referre me to all things of ſenſe,
(If ſhe in Chaines of Magick were not bound)
Whether a Maid, ſo tender, Faire, and Happie,
So oppoſite to Marriage, that ſhe ſhun'd
The wealthy curled Deareling of our Nation,
Would euer haue (t'encurre a generall mocke)
Run from her Guardageto the tootie boſome,
Of ſuch a thing as thou: to ſeare, not to delight?
Iudge me the world, if 'tis not groſſe in ſenſe,
That thou haſt praeſts'd on her with foule Charmes,
Abus'd her delicate Youth, with Drugs or Minerals,
That weakens Motion. Ile haue't disputed on,
'Tis probable, and palpable to thinking;
I therefore apprehend and do attach thee,
For an abuſer of the World, a praeſiter
Of Arts inhibited, and out of warrant;
Lay hold upon him, if he do reſift
Subdue him, at his perill.

Othe. Hold your hands

Both you of my inclining, and the reſt.
Were it my Cue to fight, I should haue knowne it
Without a Prompter. Whether will you that I goe
To anſwere this your charge?

Bra. To Prifon, till fit time
Of Law, and course of direct Seſſion
Call thee to anſwer.

Othe. What if do obey?
How may the Duke be therewith faſiſt'd,
Whose Meſſengers are heere about my ſide,
Pvon ſome preſent buſineſſe of the State,
To b ring me to him.

Officer. 'Tis true moſt worthy Signior,
The Dukes in Counſell, and your Noble ſenſe,
I am ſure is ſent for.

Bra. How? The Duke in Counſell?
In this time of the night, & Bring him away;
Mine's not an idle Caufe. The Duke himſelfe,
Or any of my Brothers of the State,
Cannot but feele this wrong, as 'twere their owne:
For if much Actions may haue paffage free,
Bond-flaues, and Pagans ſhall our Stateſmen be. Exeunt

## Scena Tertia.

Enter Duke, Senators, and Officers.

Duke. There's no compoſition in this Newes,
That giues them Credite.

1. Sen. Indeed, they are diſproportioned;
My Letters ſay, a Hundred and ſeuen Gallies.
Duke. And mine a Hundred ſortie.

2. Sena. And mine two Hundred:
But though they iumpe not on a iuſt accompt,
(As in these Cafes where the ayme reports,
'Tis oft with difference) yet do they all confirme
A Turkisſh Fleece, and bearing vp to Cyprus.

Duke. Nay, it is possible enough to iudgement:
I do not ſo ſecure me in the Error,
But the maine Article I do approue
In ſeaſefull ſenſe.

Saylor within. What hoa, what hoa, what hoa,
Enter Saylor.

Officer. A

the Moore of Venice.

313

Officer. A Meffenger from the Gallies.

Duke. Now? What's the buſineſſe?

Sailor. The Turkish Preparation makes for Rhodes,
So was I bid report here to the State,
By Signior Angelo.

Duke. How ſay you by this change?

1. Sen. This cannot be

By no affay of reſaon. 'Tis a Pageant
To keepe vs in ſaſe gaze, when we consider
Th'importancie of Cyprus to the Turke;
And let our ſelues againe but vnderstand,
That as it more concernes the Turke then Rhodes,
So may he with more ſacile question beare it,
For that it stands not in ſuch Warrelike brace,
But altogether lacke th'abilities
That Rhodes is dresſ'd in. If we make thought of this,
We muſt not thinke the Turke is ſo vnſkillfull,
To leane that lateſt, which concernes him ſiſh,
Neglecting an attempt of eafe, and gaine
To wake, and wage a danger profitſe.

Duke. Nay, in all confidence he's not for Rhodes,

Officer. Here is more Newes.

Enter a Meſſenger.

Meffen. The Ottamites, Reuerend, and Gracious,
Steering with due courſe toward the Ile of Rhodes,
Hauſe there inioynted them with an after Fleete,

1. Sen. I, to I thought: how many, as you gueſſe?

Meff. Of thirtie Saile: and now they do re-ſtem

Their backward courſe, bearing with frank appearance
Their purpoſes toward Cyprus. Signior Montaſho,

Your trustie and moſt Valiant Seruitour,
With his free dutie, recommends you thus,
And prayes you to beleeuе him.

Duke. 'Tis certaine then for Cyprus :

Marcus Luccicos is not he in Towne ?

1. Sen. He's now in Florence.

Duke. Write from vs,

To him, Poff, Poff-haſſe, diſpatch,

1. Sen. Here comes Brabantio, and the Valiant Moore.

Enter Brabantio, Othello, Caffio, Iago, Rodorigo,
and Officers.

Duke. Valiant Othello, we muſt ſtraight employ you,
A gainſt the generall Enemy Ottoman.

I did not ſee you : welcome gentle Signior,

We lackt your Counſaile, and your helpe to night.

Era. So did I yours : Good your Grace pardon me.
Neither my place, nor ought I heard of buſineſſe
Hath rais'd me from my bed; nor doth the generall care
Take hold on me. For my perticular grieſe
Is of ſo flood-gate, and ore-bearing Nature,
That it engluts, and ſwallowes other forrowes,
And it is fill it ſelfe.

Duke. Why? What's the matter?

Era. My Daughter: oh my Daughter !

Sen. Dead ?

Era. I, to me.

She is abus'd, ſtolne from me, and corrupted
By Spels, and Medicines, bought of Mountebanks;
For Nature, ſo prepoſtouſly to erre,
(Being not deficient, blind, or lame of ſenſe.)
Sans witch-craft could not.

Duke. Who ere he be, that in this ſoule proceeding
Hath thus beguil'd your Daughter of her ſelſe,

And you of her; the bloodie Booke of Law,
You ſhall your ſelſe read, in the-bitter letter,
After your owne ſenſe: yea, though our proper Son
Stood in your Action.

Bra. Humbly I thanke your Grace,
Here is the man; this Moore, whom now it ſeemes
Your ſpeciall Mandate, for the State affaires
Hath hither brought.

All. We are verie ſorry for't.

Duke. What in your owne part, can you ſay to this?

Bra. Nothing, but this is ſo.

Othe. Moſt Potent, Graue, and Reuerend Signiors,
My very Noble, and approu'd good Maſters;
That I haue tane away this old mans Daughter,
It is moſt true: true I haue married her;

The verie head and front of my offending,
Hath this extent; no more. Rude am I, in my ſpeech,
And little bleſſ'd with the ſoft phraſe of Peace;

For ſince theſe Armes of mine, had ſeuen yeares pith,
Till now, ſome mine Moones waſſed, they haue vs'd
Their decreſt action, in the Tented Field :

And little of this great world can I ſpeake,
More then pertaines to Feats of Broiles, and Battaile,

And therefore little ſhall I grace my cauſe,
In ſpeaking for my ſelſe. Yet, (by your gratious patience)
I will a round vnvarnifli'd u Tale deliver,

Of my whole courſe of Loue.

What Drugges, what Charmes,

What Coniuration, and what mighty Magicke,
(For ſuch proceeding I am charg'd withall)
I won his Daughters.

Bra. A Maiden, neuer bold :

Of Spirit ſo full, and quiet, that her Motion
Bluth'd at her ſelſe, and ſhe, in ſpight of Nature,
Of Yeares, of Country, Credite, euery thing
To fall in Loue, with what ſhe ſear'd to looke on;
It is a iudgement main'd, and moſt imperſect.

That will confefſe Perfection ſo could erre
A gainſt all rules of Nature, and muſt b: diuien

To find our practiſes of cunning hell

Why this ſhould be. I therefore vouch againe,
That with ſome Mixtures, powrefull of the blood,
Or with ſome Dram, (coniur'd to this effect)
He wrouſt vp on her.

To vouch this, is no proofe,

Without more wider, and more ouer Teſt

Then theſe thin habits, and poore likely-hoods

Of moderne ſeeming, do prefer againſt him.

Sen. But Othello, ſpeake,

Did you, by indirect, and forced courſes

Subdue, and poyſon this yong Maides affections?

Or came it by requeſt, and ſuch faire question

As ſoule, to ſoule affordeth ?

Othel. I do beſeeth you,

Send for the Lady to the Sagittary.

And let her ſpeake of me before her Father;
If you do finde me ſoule, in her report,
The Trauſt, the Office, I do hold of you,
Not only take away, but let your Sentence
Even fall upon my life.

Duke. Fetch Deſſemona hither.

Othe. Aunciant, conduct them :

You beſt know the place.

And tell ſhe come, as trulſy as to heauen,

I do confefſe the vices of my blood,

So iuſtly to your Graue eares, Ile preſent

How

The Tragedie of Othello

314

How I did thrive in this faire Ladies loue,
And she in mine.

Duke. Say it Othello.

Othe. Her Father lou'd me, oft inuited me:
Still quetion'd me the Storie of my life,
From yeare to yeare: the Battaille, Sieges, Fortune,
That I haue paft.

I ran it through, euen from my boyifh daies,
Toth' very moment that he bad me tell it.
Wherein I spoke of moft disaftrous chances :
Of mouing Accidents by Flood and Field,
Of haire-breadth scapes i'th' imminent deadly breach;
Of being taken by the Infolent Foe,
And fold to flauery. Of my redemption thence,
And portance in my Trauellours historie.
Wherein of Antars paft, and Defarts idle,
Rough Quarries, Rocks, Hills, whose head touch heauen,
It was my hint to speake. Such was my Proceſſe,
And of the Canibals that each others eat,
The Antropophague, and men whose heads
Grew beneath their shoulders. Theſe things to heare,
Would Desdemona seriously ſtine incline:

But full the houre Affaires would draw her hence:
Which euer as ſhe could with haſte disſpatch,
She'll come againe, and with a greedie care
Deuoure vp my diſcourſe. Which I obſerving,
Tooke once a pliant houre, and found good means
To draw from her a prayer of earneſt heart,
That I would all my Pilgrimage dilate,
Whereof by parcels ſhe had ſomething heard,
But not infinſtively: I did conſent,
And often did beguile her of her teares,
When I did ſpeake of ſome diſtrefſe full ſtroke
That my youth ſuffer'd: My Storie being done,
She gaue me for my paines a world of kiffes:
She ſwore in faith 'twas ſtrange: 'twas paſſing ſtrange,
'Twas pittifull: 'twas wondrous pittifull.
She wifh'd ſhe had not heard it, yet ſhe wifh'd
That Heauen had made her ſuch a man. She thank'd me,
And bad me, if I had a Friend that lou'd her,
I should but teach him how to tell my Story,
And that would woe her. Vpon this hint I ſpake,
She lou'd me for the dangers I had paſt,
And I lou'd her, that ſhe did pitty them.
This onely is the witch-craft I haue vs'd.
Here comes the Ladie: Let her wittneſſe it.

Enter Desdemona, Iago, Attendants.

Duke. I thinke this tale would win my Daughter too,
Good Brabantio, take vp this mangled matter at the beſt:
Men do their broken Weapons rather vſe,
Then their bare hands.

Bra. I pray you heare her ſpeake?

If ſhe conſſe that ſhe was haſſe the wooer,
Deſtruction on my head, if my bad blame
Light on the man. Come hither gentle Miftris,
Do you perſeuie in all this Noble Companie,
Where moſt you owe obedience?

Des. My Noble Father,

I do perſeuie heere a divided dutie.
To you I am bound for life, and education:
My life and education both do learne me,
How to reſpect you. You are the Lord of duty,
I am hitherto your Daughters. But heere's my Husband;
And so much dutie, as my Mother ſhew'd

To you, preferring you before her Father:
So much I challenge, that I may proſſe
Due to the Moore my Lord.

Bra. God be with you: I haue done.
Please it your Grace, on to the State Affaires;
I had rather to adopt a Child, then get it.
Come hither Moore;
I here do giue thee that with all my heart,
Which but thou haſt already, with all my heart
I would keepe from thee. For your ſake (bewell)
I am glad at foule, I haue no other Child,
For thy eſcape would teach me Tirranie
To hang clogges on them. I haue done my Lord.

Duke. Let me ſpeake like your ſelfe:
And lay a Sentence,
Which as a grife, or ſtep may helpe theſe Louers,
When remedies are paſt, the griefes are ended
By feeing the worſt, which late on hopes depended.
To mourne a Mifcheeſe that is paſt and gon,
Is the next way to draw new miſchiche on.
What cannot be preſern'd, when Fortune takes :
Patience, her Iniury a mock'ry makes.
The rob'd that ſmiles, ſteales ſomething from the Thieſe,
He robs himselfe, that ſpends a booteleſſe griefe.

Bra. So let the Turke of Cyprus vs beguile,
We looke it not ſo long as we can ſmile:
He beares the Sentence well, that nothing beares,
But the free comfort which from thence he heares.
But he beares both the Sentence, and the ſorrow,
That to pay griefe, muſt of poore Patience borrow.
These Sentences, to Sugar, or to Gall,
Being ſtrong on both ſides, are Equiuocall,
But words are words, I neuer yet did heare:
That the bruiz'd heart was pierc'd through the eares,
I humbly beſeech you proceed to th' Affairs of State.

Duke. The Turke with a moſt mighty Preparation
makes for Cyprus: Othello, the Fortitude of the place is
beſt knowne to you. And though we haue there a Subſtli-
ture of moſt allowed ſufficiencie; yet opinion, a more
foueraigne Miftris of Eſſeſt, throwes a more ſafer
voice on you: you muſt therefore be content to ſlubber
the gloſſe of your new Fortunes, with this more ſtub-
borne, and boyſtrous expedition.

Othe. The Tirant Custome, moſt Graue Senators,
Hath made the flinry and Steele Coach of Warre
My thrice- driven bed of Downe. I do agnize
A Naturall and prompt Alacartie,
I finde in hardneſſe: and do vndertake
This preſent Warres againſt the Ottamites.
Moſt humbly therefore bending to your State,
I craue fit diſpoſition for my Wife,
Due reference of Place, and Exhibition,
With ſuch Accommodation and beſort
As leuels with her breeding.

Duke. Why at her Fathers?

Bra. I will not haue it ſo,

Othe. Nor I.

Des. Nor would I there recide,
To put my Father in inpatient thoughts
By being in his eye. Moſt Grcaious Duke,
To my vnfolding, lend your proſperous eare,
And let me finde a Charter in your voice
T'affiſt my ſimpleneſſe.

Duke. What would you Desdemona?

Des. That I loue the Moore, to liue with him,
My downe-right violence, and ſtorme of Fortunes,

May

the Moore of Venice.

315

May trumpet to the world. My heart's subdu'd
Euen to the very quality of my Lord;

I saw *Othello's* village in his mind,

And to his Honours and his valiant parts,

Did I my foule, and Fortunes confeccrate.

So that (deere Lords) if I be left behind

A Moth of Peace, and he go to the Warre,

The Rites for why I loue him, are bereft me :

And I a heauie interion shall support

By his deere absence. Let me go with him.

*Otho*. Let her haue your voice.

Vouch with me Heauen, I therefore beg it not

To pleafe the pallate of my Appetite:

Nor to comply with heat the yong affect's
In my defunct, and proper fatisfaction.

But to be free, and bounteous to her minde:

And Heauen defend your good foules, that you thinke
I will your ferious and great busineſſe ſcant

When ſhe is with me. No, when light wing'd Toyes

Of feather'd Cupid, ſeele with wanton dulcette

My ſpeculatue, and offic'd Inſtrument :

That my Diſports corrupt, and taint my busineſſe :

Let Houſe-wiues make a Skillet of my Helme,

And all indigee, and bafe aduerſities,

Make head againſt my Eſtimation.

*Duke*. Be it as you ſhall privately determine,

Either for her ſlay, or going : th'Affaire cries haſt:

And ſpeed muſt anſwer it.

*Sen.* You muſt away to night.

*Otho*. With all my heart.

*Duke*. At nine i'th'morning, here wee'l meete againe.
*Othello*, leaue some Officer behind

And he ſhall our Commiffion bring to you:

And ſuch things ſelfe of qualitie and reſpect
As doth import you.

*Otho*. So pleafe your Grace, my Ancient,

A man he is of honeſt and truſt :

To his conveayance I affigne my wife,

With what ſelfe needſull, your good Grace ſhall think

To be ſent after me.

*Duke*. Let it be so :

Good night to every one. And Noble Signior,

I Vertue no delighted Beautie lacke,

Your Son-in-law is farre more Faire then Blacke.

*Sen.* Adieu braue Moore, vs Defdemona well.

*Bra.* Looke to her (Moore) if thou haſt cies to fee:
She ha's deceu'd her Father, and may thee. Exit.

*Otho*. My life vpon her faith. Honest Iago,

My Defdemona muſt I leaue to thee :

I prythee let my wife attend on her,

And bring them after in the beſt aduantage.

Come Defdemona, I haue but an houre

Of Loue, of wordly matter, and direction

To ſpend with thee. We muſt obey the time. Exit.

*Rod*. Iago.

*Iago*. What ſaſt thou Noble heart?

*Rod*. What will I do, think'ſt thou ?

*Iago*. Why go to bed and ſleep.

*Rod*. I will incontinently droune my ſelfe.

*Iago*. If thou doſt I ſhall neuer loue thee after. Why
thou filly Gentleman?

*Rod*. It is fillyneſſe to line, when to line is terment :
and then haue we a preſcription to dye, when death is
our Phyſition.

*Iago*. Oh villanous : I haue look'd vpon the world
for ſoures times ſeuen yeares, and ſince I could diſtinguith

betwixt a Benefit, and an Injorie. I neuer found man that
knew how to loue himſelfe. Ere I would ſay, I would
droune my ſelfe for the loue of a Gynney Hen, I would
change my Humanity with a Baboone.

*Rod*. What ſhould I do ? I conſeſſe it is my ſhame
to be ſo fond, but it is not in my vertut to amend it.

*Iago*. Vertue? A figge, 'tis in our ſelues that we are thus, or thus. Our Bodies are our Gardens, to the which, our Wills are Gardiners. So that if we will plant Nertels, or ſowe Lettice: Set Hifope, and weede vp Time: Supplice it with one gender of Hearbes, or diſtract it with many : either to haue it ſteffill with idlenefſe, or manured with Induſtry, why the power, and Corrigeable authority of this lies in our Wills. If the braine of our liues had not one Scale of Reſaon, to poize another of Senſualtie, the blood, and bafe ſenefſe of our Natures would conduct vs to moſt prepoſtrous Conclusions. But we haue Reſaon to coole our raging Motions, our carnall Stings, or vnbitted Luſts: whereof I take this, that you call Loue, to be a ſect, or Seyen.

*Rod*. It cannot be.

*Iago*. It is meerly a Luſt of the blood, and a permission of the will. Come, be a man: droune thy ſelfe? Droun Cats, and blind Puppies. I haue profitè me thy Friend, and I conſeſſe me knit to thy deferuſing, with Cables of perdurable toughneſſe. I could neuer better ſeede thee then now. Put Money in thy purſe: follow thou the Warres, deferate thy ſaunour, with an vſurp'd Beard. I ſay put Money in thy purſe. It cannot be long that Defdemona should continue her loue to the Moore. Put Money in thy purſe: nor he his to her. It was a violent Commencement in her, and thou ſhalt fee an anſwerable Sequence, put but Money in thy purſe. These Moores are changeable in their wits: fill thy purſe with Money. The Food that to him now is as lufhious as Locuſts, ſhalbe to him ſhortly, as bicker as Coloquintida. She muſt change for youth: when ſhe is ſated with his body ſhe will find the errors of her choice. Therefore, put Money in thy purſe. If thou wilt needs damne thy ſelfe, do it a more delicate way then drowning. Make all the Money thou canſt : If ſan'timonic, and a fraile vow, be-twixt an erring Barbarian, and ſupere-subtle Venetian be not too hard for my wits, and all the Tribe of hell, thou ſhalt enjoy her : therefore make Money : a pox of drowning thy ſelfe, it is cleane out of the way. Seeke thou rather to be hang'd in Compassing thy ioy, then to be drown'd, and go without her.

*Rod*. Wilt thou be ſaſt to my hopes, if I depend on
the ſuſſue?

*Iago*. Thou art ſure of me: Go make Money : I haue told thee often, and I re-tell thee againe, and againe, I hate the Moore. My cauſe is hearted; thine hath no ſelſe reaſon. Let vs be conjunctive in our reuenge, against him. If thou canſt Cuckold him, thou doſt thy ſelſe a pleasure, me a ſport. There are many Euentis in the Wombe of Time, which wilbe deliuered. Trauerſe, go, prouide thy Money. We will haue more of this to morrow. Adieu.

*Rod*. Where ſhall we meete i'th'morning ?

*Iago*. At my Lodging.

*Rod*. Ile be with thee betimes.

*Iago*. Go tooo, farewell. Do you heare *Rodorigo*?

*Rod*. Ile fall all my Land. Exit.

*Iago*. Thus do I euer make my Foole, my purſe :

For I mine owne gain'd knowledge ſhould prophande
If I would time expend with ſuch Snpe,

But

316

The Tragedie of Othello

But for my Sport, and Profit: I hate the Moore,
And it is thought abroad, that 'twixt my fleets
She ha's done my Office. I know not if't be true,
But I, for meere fuspition in that kinde,
Will do, as if for Surety. He holds me well,
The better shall my purpose worke on him:

Caffio's a proper man: Let me fee now,
To get his Place, and to plume vp my will
In double Knauery. How? How? Let's see.
After some time, to abufe Othello's eares,
That he is too familiar with his wife:
He hath a person, and a smooth airpofe
To be suspected: fram'd to make women fale.
The Moore is of a free, and open Nature,
That thinkes men honeſt, that but ſeeme to be ſo,
And will as tenderly be lead by't Noſe

As Aſſes are:

I haue't: it is engendred: Hell, and Night,
Muft bring this monſtrous Birth, to the worlds light.

Actus Secundus. Scena Prima.

Enter Montano, and two Gentlemen.

Mon. What from the Cape, can you diſcerne at Sea?

1.Gent. Nothing at all, it is a high wrought Flood:

I cannot't twixt the Heauen, and the Maine,
Deſery a Saile.

Mon. Me thinks, the wind hath ſpoke aloud at Land,
A fuller blaſt ne're ſhooke our Battlements :
If it hath ſuffiand ſo vpon the Sea,
What ribbes of Oake, when Mountaines melt on them,
Can hold the Morties. What ſhall we heare of this?

2 A Segregation of the Turkifh Fleet :

For do but stand vpon the Foaming Shore,
The chidden Billow ſeemes to pelt the Clowds,
The winde ſhak'd-Surge, with high & monſtrous Maine
Seemes to caſt water on the burning Beare,
And quench the Guards of th'cuer-fixed Pole:
I neuer did like molleſtation view
On the enchafed Flood.

Men. If that the Turkifh Fleete

Be not enſhelter'd, and embay'd, they are drown'd,
It is impoſsible to beare it out.

Enter a Gentleman.

3 Newes Laddes: our warres are done :

The desperate Tempeſt hath ſo bang'd the Turkes,
That their deſignement halts. A Noble ſhip of Venice,
Hath ſeene a greeuous wracke and ſufferance
On moſt part of their Fleet.

Mon. How? Is this true?

3 The ſhip is heere put in: A Veren ſeffa, Michael Caffio

Lieutenant to the warlike Moore, Othello,
Is come on Shore. the Moore himſelfe at Sea,
And is in full Commiffion heere for Cyprus.

Mon. I am glad on't :

'Tis a worthy Gouernour.

3 But this fame Caffio, though he ſpake of comfort,
Touching the Turkifh loſſe, yet he looks ſadly,
And praye the Moore be ſafe; for they were parted
With ſowle and violent Tempeſt.

Mon. Pray Heauens he be:

For I haue ſeru'd him, and the man commands
Like a full Soldier. Let's to the Seaſide (hoa)
As well to ſee the Veffell that's come in,
As to throw-our our eyes for braue Othello,
Euen ſill we make the Maine, and th'eriall blew,
An indiſinſt regard.

Gent. Come, let's do ſo;

For euery Minute is expeſtancie
Of more Arriuance.

Enter Caffio.

Caffi. Thankes you, the valiant of the warlike Ille,
That I approoue the Moore: Oh let the Heauens
Gie him defence against the Elements,
For I haue loft him on a dangerous Sea,

Mon. Is he well ſhip'd?

Caffio. His Barke is ſtoutly Timber'd, and his Pylot
Of verie expert, and approu'd Allowance;
Therefore my hope's (not ſurſetted to death)
Stand in bold Cure.

Within. A Saile, a Saile, a Saile,

Caffio. What noife?

Gent. The Towne is empty; on the brow o'th'Sea
Stand rankes of People, and they cry, a Saile.

Caffio. My hopes do ſhape him for the Gouernor.

Gent. They do diſcharge their Shot of Courteſie,
Our Friends, at leaſt.

Caffio. I pray you Sir, go forth,

And giue vs truth who 'tis that is arriu'd.

Gent. I ſhall.

Exit.

Mon. But good Lieutenant, is your Generall wiu'd?

Caffio. Moſt fortunately: he hath atchieu'd a Maid

That paragons deſcription, and wilde Fame :
One that excels the quirkes of Blazoning pens,
And in th'effeſtiall Vehrure of Creation,
Do's tyre the Ingenuier.

Enter Gentleman.

How now? Who ha's put in?

Gent. 'Tis one Iago, Auncient to the Generall.

Caffio. Ha's had moſt fauourable, and happie ſpeed:
Tempeſts themſelues, high Seas, and howling windes,
The gutter'd-Rockes, and Congregated Sands,
Traitors enſteep'd, to enclogge the guilkeſſe Keele,
As hauing ſence of Beautie, do omit
Their morſtal Natures, letting go safely by
The Diuine Desdemona.

Mon. What is ſhe?

Caffio. She that I ſpake of:
Our great Captains Captaine,
Left in the conduct of the bold Iago,
Whose footing heere anticipates our thoughts,
A Senights ſpeed. Great Ioue, Othello guard,
And ſwell his Maile with thine owne powrefull breath,
That he may bleſſe this Bay with his tall Ship,
Make loues quicke pants in Desdemonacs Armeſ,
Gie renew'd fire to our extinted Spirits.

Enter Desdemona, Iago, Rodorigo, and ſEmilia.

Oh behold,
The Riches of the Ship is come on shore :
You men of Cyprus, let her haue your knees.
Haile to thee Ladie: and the grace of Heauen,
Before, behinde thee, and on euery hand
Enwheele thee round.

Def. I thanke you, Valiant Caffio,
What tydings can you tell of my Lord?

Caffio.

The Tragedie of Othello

318

Orbe. Come: let vs to the Caftle.
Newes (Friends) our Warres are done:
The Turkes are drown'd.
How do's my old Acquaintance of this Ille?
(Hony) you shall be well defit'd in Cyprus,
I haue round great loue among it them. Oh my Sweet,
I prattle out of fashion, and I doate
In mine owne comforts. I prythee, good Iago,
Go to the Bay, and disimbarke my Coffers:
Bring thou the Mafter to the Cittadell,
He is a good one, and his worthynesse
Do's challenge much respect. Come Desdemona,
Once more well met at Cyprus.

Exit Othello and Desdemona.

Iago. Do thou meet me presently at the Harbour.
Come thither, if thou be't Valiant, (as they say) bafe men
being in Loue, haue then a Nobilitie in their Natures,
more then is native to them) lift-me; the Lieutenant to
night watches on the Court of Guard. First, I must tell
thee this: Desdemona, is directly in loue with him.

Rodo. With him? Why, 'tis nor poffible.

Iago. Lay thy finger thus: and let thy foule be in-
fructed. Marke me with what violence she first lou'd
the Moore, but for bragging, and telling her fantastical
lies. To loue him still for prating, let not thy disteret
heart thinke it. Her eye must be fed. And what delight
shall she haue to looke on the diuell? When the Blood
is made dull with the Act of Sport, there should be a
game to enflaue it, and to giue Satiety a fresh appetite.
Louelineſſe in fauour, ſimpathy in yeares, Manners,
and Beauties: all which the Moore is defective in. Now
for want of theſe requiring Conueniences, her delicate
tenderneſſe wil finde it ſelſe abus'd, begin to heaue the,
gorge, diſreſſilh and abhorre the Moore, very Nature wil
inſtruct her in it, and compell her to ſome ſecond choice.
Now Sir, this granted (as it is a moſt pregnant and vn-
fore'd position) who stands so eminent in the degree of
this Fortune, as Caffio do's: a knaue very voluble: no
further conſcionable, then in putting on the meere forme
of Ciuill, and Humaine ſeeming, for the better compaſſe
of his ſalt, and moſt hidden looſe Affection? Why none,
why none: A ſlipper, and ſubtle knaue, a finder of occa-
sion: that he's an eye can ſtampe, and counterfeit Ad-
juantages, though true Aduantage neuer preſent it ſelſe.
A diuelpith knaue: beſides, the knaue is handſome, young:
and hath all thofe requifites in him, that folly and greene
mindes looke after. A peſtilent compleat knaue, and the
woman hath found him already.

Rodo. I cannot beleene that in her, ſhe's full of moſt
bleſs'd condition.

Iago. Bleſs'd figges-end. The Wine ſhe drinkes is
made of grapes. If ſhee had beene bleſs'd, ſhe would
neuer haue lou'd the Moore: Bleſs'd pudding. Didst thou
not fee her paddle with the palme of his hand? Didst not
marke that?

Rod. Yes, that I did: but that was but curtesie.

Iago. Leacherie by this hand: an Index, and obscure
prologue to the History of Luſt and ſoule Thoughts.
They met so neere with their lippes, that their breathes
embrac'd together. Villanous thoughts Rodorigo, when
theſe mutabilities so marthall the way, hard at hand
comes the Maſter, and maine exercife, th'incorporate
conclusion: Pifh. But Sir, be you rul'd by me. I haue
brought you from Venice. Watch you to night: for
the Command, Ile lay't upon you. Caffio knowes you
not: Ile not be farre from you. Do you finde ſome oc-

caſion to anger Caffio, either by ſpeaking too loud, or
tainting his diſcipline, or from what other cause
you pleafe, which the time shall more fauorably mi-
nifter.

Rod. Well.

Iago. Sir, he's rath, and very ſodaine in Choller; and
happily may strike at you, prouoke him that he may: for
euen out of that will I cauſe the ſeafe of Cyprus to Mutiny.
Whofe qualification shall come into no true tafle a-
gaine, but by the diſplanting of Caffio. So shall you
haue a ſhorter iourney to your deſires, by the means I
ſhall then haue to prefere them. And the impediment
moſt profitably removed, without the which there were
no expectation of our prosperity.

Rodo. I will do this, if you can bring it to any opportu-
nity.

Iago. I warrant thee. Meete me by and by at the
Cittadell. I muſt fetch his Necessaries a Shore, Fare-
well.

Rodo. Adieu.

Exit,

Iago. That Caffio loues her, I do well beleeu't:
That ſhe loues him, 'tis apt, and of great Credite.
The Moore (how beit that I endure him not)
Is of a conſtanct, louing, Noble Nature,
And I dare thinke, he'le proue to Desdemona
A moſt deere husband. Now I do loue her too,
Not out of abſolute Luſt, (though peraduenture
I ſtand accomptant for as great a fin)
But particularly led to dyer my Reuenge,
For that I do ſuſpect the luſtlie Moore
Hath leapt'd into my Seate. The thought whereof,
Doth (like a poyſonous Minerall) gnaw my Inwardes:
And nothing can, or shall content my Soule
Till I eeuen'd with him, wife, for wift.
Or ſaying so, yet that I put the Moore,
At least into a Ielonzie ſo strong
That iudgement cannot cure. Which thing to do,
If this poore Traſh of Venice, whom I trace
For his quickie hunting, ſtand the putting on,
Ile haue our Michael Caffio on the hip,
Abufe him to the Moore, in the right garbe
(For I feare Caffio with my Night-Cape too)
Make the Moore thanke me, loue me, and reward me,
for making him egregiously an Aſſe,
And practiſing upon his peace, and quiet,
Even to madneſſe. 'Tis heere: but yer confuſ'd,
Knaueries plaine face, is neuer ſeene, till vs'd.
Exit.

## Scena Secunda.

Enter Othello's, Herald with a Proclamation.

Herald. It is Othello's pleasure, our Noble and Vali-
ant Generall. That upon certaine tydings now arrin'd,
importing the meere perdition of the Turkifh Fleete:
euery man put himſelfe into Triumph. Some to daunce,
some to make Bonfires, each man, to what Sport and
Reuels his addition leads him. For beſides theſe bene-
ficiall Newes, it is the Celebration of his Nuptiall. So
much was his pleasure should be proclaimed. All offi-
ces are open, & there is full libertie of Feasting from this
pre-

the Moore of Venice.

319

present hour of fiue, till the Bell haue told eleven.
Bleſſe the Isle of Cyprus, and our Noble General Othello.

Exit.

Enter Othello, Desdemona, Caffio, and Attendants.

Othe. Good Michael, looke you to the guard to night.
Let's teach our felues that Honourable flop,
Not to out-fport diſcretion.

Caf. Iago, hath direction what to do,
But notwithſtanding with my perſonall eye
Will I looke to't.

Othe. Iago, is moſt honest:
Michael, goodnight. To morrow with your earlieſt,
Let me haue ſpeech with you. Come my deere Loue,
The purchase made, the fruits are to enue,
That profit's yet to come 'twene me, and you.
Goodnight.

Exit.

Enter Iago.

Caf. Welcome Iago: we muſt to the Watch.

Iago. Not this hour Lieutenant : 'tis not yet ten
o'clocke. Our Generall caſt vs thus early for the
loue of his Desdemona: Who, let vs not therefore blame
heath not yet made wanton the night with her : and
ſhe is ſport for Loue.

Caf. She's a moſt exquſiſte Lady.

Iago. And Ile warrant her, full of Game.

Caf. Indeed ſhes a neſt fresh and delicate creature.

Iago. What an eye ſhe ha's?

Methinks it founds a patjer to pronouation.

Caf. An inviting eye :

And yet me thinkes right modſet.

Iago. And when ſhe ſpeakes,

Is it not an Alarum to Loue?

Caf. She is indeed perfection.

Iago. Well : hapſinſe to their Sheetes. Come Lieu-
tenant, I haue a ſlope of Wine, and heere without are a
brace of Cyprus Gallants, that would fairen haue a mea-
fure to the health of blacke Othello.

Caf. Not to night, good Iago, I haue very poore,
and vnhappie Braines for drinking. I could well wifl
Curteſe would inuent ſome other Cuſtome of enter-
tainment.

Iago. Oh, they are our Friends: but one Cup, Ile
dinke for you.

Caffio. I haue drunke but one Cup to night, and that
was craftily qualified too : and behold what inouation
it makes heere. I am inſortunate in the inſirmity, and
dare not taske my weakeneſſe with any more.

Iago. What man ? 'Tis a night of Reuels, the Gal-
lants defire it.

Caf. Where are they?

Iago. Heere, at the door : I pray you call them in.

Caf. Ile do't, but it diſtikes me.

Exit.

Iago. If I can faſten but one Cup vpon him

With that which he hath drunke to night already,
He'll be as full of Quarrell, and offence

As my yong Miftris dogge.

Now my ſicke Foole Kodoriga,

Whom Loue hath turn'd almost the wrong ſide out,
To Desdemona hath to night Carrows'd.

Potations, portle-deepe; and he's to watch.

Three eleſe of Cyprus, Noble ſwelling Spirits,
(That hold their Honours in a wary diſtance,
The very Elements of this Warrelike Isle),
Hae I to night fluſter'd with flowing Cups,
And they Watch too.

Now 'mongſt this Flocke of drunkards

Am I put to our Caffio in ſome Action

That may offend the Isle. But here they come.

Enter Caffio, Montano, and Gentlemen.

If Conſquence do but approue my dreame,

My Boate failes freely, both with winde and Streame.

Caf. Fore hauen, they haue giuen me a rowſe already.

Mon. Good-faith a little one : not paſt a pint, as I am a
Souldier.

Iago. Some Wine hoa.

And let me the Cannabin clinke, clinke.

A Souldiers a man: Oh, man's life's but a span,

Why then let a Souldier drinke.

Some Wine Boyes.

Caf. Fore Heauen: an excellent Song.

Iago. I learn'd it in England : where indeed they are
moſt potent in Potting. Your Dane, your Germaine,
and your ſwag-belly'd Hollander, (drinke hoa) are
nothing to your English.

Caffio. Is your Englishmen so exquſiſte in his drinking?

Iago. Why, he drinkes you with facilities, your Dane
dead drunke. He sweates not to overthrow your Al-
maine. He gieſes your Hollander a vomit, ere the next
Pottle can be fill'd.

Caf. To the health of our Generall.

Mon. I am for it. Lieutenant: and He do you Iustice.

Iago. Oh sweet England.

King Stephen was and a worthy Peeve,

His Breeches coſt him but a Crowne,

He held them Six pence all to deere,

With that he cal'd the Taylor Loune :

He was a wight of high Renowne,

And thou art but of low degree :

'Tis Pride that pulls the Country downe,

And take thy awl'd Cloake about it ee.

Some Wine hoa.

Caffio. Why this is a more exquſiſte Song then the other.

Iago. Will you heare't againe ?

Caf. No: for I hold him to be vnworthy of his Place,
that do's thole things. Well: heau'n aboue all : and
there be foules muſt be faued, and there be foules muſt
not be faued.

Iago. It's true, good Lieutenant.

Caf. For mine owne part, no offence to the Generall,
nor any man of qualitie : I hope to be faued.

Iago. And to do I too Lieutenant.

Caffio. I: (but by your leaque) not before me. The
Lieutenant is to be faued before the Ancient. Let's haue
no more of this: let's to our Aſfaires. Forgiue vs our
finnes: Gentlemen let's looke to our busineſſe. Do not
thinke Gentlemen, I am drunke: this is my Ancient, this
is my right hand, and this is my left. I am not drunke
now: I can ſtand well enough, and I ſpeake well enough.

Gent. Excellent well.

Caf. Why very well then : you muſt not thinke then,
that I am drunke.

Exit.

Monta. To th' Platforme' (Masters) come, let's fet the
Watch.

Iago. You fee this Fellow, that is gone before,
He's a Souldier, fit to ſtand by Caſar,
And giue direction. And do but fee his vice,

'Tis to his vertue, a iuſt Equinox,

c t 3

The

The Tragedie of Othello

The one as long as th'other. 'Tis pittie of him:
I feare the truſt Othello puts him in,
On some odde time of his infirmitie
Will ſhake this ſland.

Mont. But is he often thus?

Iago. 'Tis euermore his prologue to his ſleepe,
He'le watch the Horologe a double Set,
It Drinke rocke not his Cradle.

Mont. It were well

The Generall were put in mind of it:
Perhaps he fees it not, or his good nature
Prizes the vertue that appears in Caffio,
And lookes nor on his cuillies : is not this true?

Enter Rodorigo.

Iago. How now Rodorigo?

I pray you after the Lieutenant, go.

Mon. And 'tis great pitty, that the Noble Moore
Should hazard ſuch a Place, as his owne Second
With one of an ingraft Inſirmitie,
It were an honest Action, to ſay so
To the Moore.

Iago. Not I, for this faire Island,

I do loue Caffio well : and would do much

To cure him of this cuill, But hearke, what noife?

Enter Caffio purſuing Rodorigo.

Caf. You Rogue: you Raſcall.

Mon. What's the matter Lieutenant?

Caf. A Knaue teach me my dutie? Ile beate the Knaue into a Twitterg-Bottle.

Rod. Beate me?

Caf. Doſt thou prate, Rogue?

Mon. Nay, good Lieutenant :

I pray you Sir, hold your hand.

Caffio. Let me go (Sir)

Or Ile knocke you o're the Mazard.

Mon. Come, come : you're drunke.

Caffio. Drunke?

Iago. Away I ſay: go out and cry a Mutinie.
Nay good Lieutenant. Alas Gentlemen :

Helpe hoa. Lieutenant. Sir Montano :

Helpe Maſters. Heere's a goodly Watch indeed.

Who's that which rings the Bell: Diablo, hoa :

The Towne will riſe, Fie, ſie Lieutenant,

You'le be aſham'd for euer.

Enter Othello, and Attendants.

Othe. What is the matter heere?

Mon. I bleed ſtill, I am hurt to th' death. He dies.

Othe. Hold for your liues.

Iago. Hold hoa : Lieutenant, Sir Montano, Gentlemen:
Hane you ſorged all place of ſenſe and dutie?

Hold. The Generall ſpeaks to you : hold for ſhame.

Oth. Why how now hoa? From whence arife this?
Are we turn'd Turkes ? and to our ſelues do that
Which Heauen hath forbid the Ottamitteres.

For Chriſtian ſhame, put by this barbarous Brawle:
He that ſtris next, to carue for his owne rage,

Holds his ſoule ligher : He dies vpon his Motion.

Silence that dreadfull Bell, it frights the Iſle,
From her propriety. What is the matter, Maſters?

Honeſt Iago, that looks dead with greeuing,

Speake : who began this ? On thy loue I charge thee?

Iago. I do not know : Friends all, but now, euen now.
In Quarter, and in termes like Bride, and Groome

Deueſting them for Bed : and then, but now :
(As if some Planet had vnwitted men)

Swords out, and tilting one at others breafes,
In opposition bloody. I cannot ſpeake
Any beginning to this peeviſh oddes.

And would, in Action glorious, I had loft
Thofe legges, that brought me to a part of it.

Othe. How comes it (Michael) you are thus ſorgt?

Caf. I pray you pardon me, I cannot ſpeake.

Othe. Worthy Montano, you were want to be ciuill :

The grauitie, and fillneſſe of your youth
The world hath noted. And your name is great
In mouthes of wiser Cenſure. What's the matter
That you vnlace your reputation thus,
And ſpend your rich opinion, for the name
Of a night-brawler ? Giue me anſwer to it.'

Mon. Worthy Othello, I am hurt to danger,
Your Officer Iago, can informe you,
While I ſpare ſpeech which ſomething now offenſes me.

Of all that I do know, nor know I ought
By me, that's ſaid, or done amiffes this night,
Vnſeſſe ſelfe-charitie be ſometimes a vice,
And to defend our ſelues, it be a ſinne
When violence affailes vs.

Othe. Now by Heauen,
My blood begins my ſaſer Guides to rule,
And paſſion (hauing my beſt iudgement collied)

Aſſaies to leade the way. If I once ſtir,
Or do but lift this Armes, the beſt of you
Shall ſinke in my rebuke. Giue me to know
How this ſoule Rout began: Who ſet it on,
And he that is approu'd in this offenſe,

Though he had twinn'd with me, both at a birth,
Shall looſe me. What in a Towne of warre,
Yet wilde, the peoples hearts brim-full of ſeſſe,
To Manage priuate, and domeſticke Quarrell?

In night, and on the Court and Guard of ſaſſetie?
'Tis monſtrous : Iago, who began't?

Mon. If partially Aſſia'd, or league in office,
Thou doſt deluer more, or leſſe then Truth,
Thou art no Souldier.

Iago. Touch me not so neere,
I had rather haue this tongue cut from my mouth,
Then it should do offenſe to Michael Caffio.
Yet I perſwade my ſelfe, to ſpeake the truth
Shall nothing wrong him. This it is Generall:
Montano and my ſelfe being in ſpeech,
There comes a Fellow, crying out for helpe,
And Caffio following him with determin'd Sword
To execute vpon him. Sir, this Gentleman,
Steppes into Caffio, and entreats his paſſet
My ſelfe, the crying Fellow did purſue,
Leaſt by hisclamour (as it ſo fell out) :

The Towne might fall in fright. He's (ſwift of ſoore)
Out-ran my purpofe : and I return'd then rather
For that I heard the cluink, and fall of Swords,
And Caffio high in oath : Which till to night
I nere might ſay before. When I came backe
(For this was briefe) I found them cloſe together
At blow, and thrust euen as againe they were
When you your ſelfe did part them.

More of this matter cannot I report,
But Men are Men : The beſt ſometimes ſorget,
Though Caffio did some little wrong to him,
As men in rage strikethoſe that with them beſſe,
Yet ſurely Caffio I believe receiued

From him that fled ſome ſtrange Indignitie,
Which patience could not paſſe.

Othe.

the Moore of Venice.

Othe. I know Iago

Thy honeſt, and loue doth mince this matter,
Making it light to Caffio: Caffio, I loue thee,
But neuer more be Officer of mine.

Enter Defdemona attended.

Looke if my gentle Loue be not rais'd vp:
Ile make thee an example.

Def. What is the matter (Deere?)

Othe. All's well, Sweeting.

Come away to bed. Sir for your hurts,
My ſelfe will be your Surgeon. Lead him off:
Iago, looke with care about the Towne,
And ſilence thatof whom this vi'l' drawle diſtraſt.

Come Defdemona, 'tis the Soldiers life,

To hane their Balmy flumbers wak'd with ſtrike. Exit.

Iago. What are you hurt Lieutenant?

Caf. I, paſt all Surgery.

Iago. Marry Heauen forbid.

Caf. Reputation, Reputation, Reputation: Oh I haue
loft my Reputation. I haue loft the immortal part of
myſelfe, and what remains is beſtiall. My Reputation,
Iago, my Reputation.

Iago. As I am an honest man I had thought you had
received ſome bodily wound; there is more ſence in that
than in Reputation. Reputation is an idle, and moſt falſe
impoſition; oft got without merit, and loft without
deruſing. You haue loft no Reputation at all, vnleſſe you
repute your ſelfe ſuch a looſer. What man, there are
more wayes to recouer the Generall againe. You are
but now caſt in his moode, (a puniſhment more in poli-
cie, then in malice ) euen so as one would beate his of-
fenceleſſe dogge,ro affright an Imperious Lyon. Sue to
him againe, and he's yours.

Caf. I will rather ſue to be deſpis'd, then to deceiue
ſo good a Commander, with ſo flight, ſo drunken, and ſo
indifcreet an Officer. Drunken ? And ſpeake Parrat ? And
ſquabble ? Swagger ? Sweare ? And diſcourse Fuftian
with ſones owne ſhadow ? Oh thou inviſible ſpirit of
Wine, if thou haſt no name to be knowne by, let vs call
thee Diuell.

Iago. What was he that you follow'd with your
Sword ? What had he done to you ?

Caf. I know not.

Iago. Is't poffible ?

Caf. I remember a maffe of things, but nothing di-
ſtinctly: a Quarrell, but nothing wherefore. Oh, that
men should put an Enemie in their mouthes, to ſteale a-
way their Braines ? that we should with ioy, pleafance,
reuell and applaufe, transforme our ſelues into Beasts.

Iago. Why? But you are now well enough : how
came you thus recovered?

Caf. It hath pleas'd the diuell drunkennesſe, to give
place to the diuell wrath, one vnperſectneſſe, thewes me
another to make me frankly deſpise my ſelfe.

Iago. Come, you are too ſeuere a Moraller. As the
Time, the Place, & the Condition of this Country stands
I could harrily with this had not beſalne: but ſince it is,
as it is, mend it for your owne good.

Caf. I will aſke him for my Place againe, he ſhall tell
me, I am a drunkard : had I as many mouthes as Hydra,
ſuch an anſwer would ſtoſt them all. To be now a ſen-
fible man, by and by a Foole, and prefently a Beast. Oh
ſtrange! Every inordinate cup is vnbleſſ'd, and the Ingre-
dient is a diuell.

321

Iago. Come, come: good wine, is a good famillar
Creature, if it be well vs'd: exclame no more againſt it.
And good Lieutenant, I thinke, you thinke I loue
you.

Caffio. I haue well approued it, Sir. I drunke?

Iago. You, or any man living, may be drunke at a
time man. I tell you what you ſhall do: Our General's
Wife, is now the Generall. I may ſay so, in this reſpect,
for that he hath deuoted, and giuen vp himſelfe to the
Contemplation, marke: and deuotement of her parts
and Graces. Conſeſſe your ſelfe freely to her: Impor-
tune her helpe to put you in your place againe. She is
of ſo free, of ſinde, of apt, ſo bleſſed a diſpoſition,
ſhe holds it a vice in her goodneſſe, not to do more
than ſhe is requeſted. This broken ioynt betweene
you, and her husband, entreat her to ſplinter. And my
Fortunes againſt any lay worth naming, this cracke of
your Loue, ſhall grow ſtonger, then it was before.

Caffio. You aduise me well.

Iago. I protest in the ſinceritie of Loue, and honest
kindneſſe.

Caffio. I thinke it freely: and betimes in the mor-
ings, I will bebeech the vertuous Defdemona to vndertake
for me: I am desperate of my Fortunes if they check me.

Iago. You are in the right: good night Lieutenant, I
muſt to the Watch.

Caffio. Good night, honest Iago.

Exit Caffio.

Iago. And what's he then,
That failes I play the Villaine?
When this aduise is free I gine, and honest,
Proball to thinking, and indeed the courte
To win the Moore againe.

To win the Moore, were to renowne his Baptife,
All Seales, and Simbols of redeemed ſin:
His Soule is ſo enfetter'd to her Loue,
That ſhe may make, vnmake, do what the lift,
Euen as her Appetite ſhall play the God,
With his weake Function. How am I then a Villaine,
To Counſell Caffio to this paralell courſe,
Direetly to his good? Diuinitie of hell,
When diuels will the blackeſt finnes put on,
They do fuggeſt at firſt with heauenly ſhewes,
As I do now. For whiles this honest Foole
Plies Defdemona, to repaire his Fortune,
And ſhe for him, pleads strongly to the Moore,
Ile powre this peſtility into his care :

When diuels will the blackeſt finnes put on,
They do fuggeſt at firſt with heauenly ſhewes,
As I do now. For whiles this honest Foole
Plies Defdemona, to repaire his Fortune,
And ſhe for him, pleads strongly to the Moore,
Ile powre this peſtility into his care :
That ſhe repeales him, for her bodies Luft,
And by how much ſhe ſtrues to do him good,
She ſhall vndo her Credite with the Moore.
So will I turne her vertue into pitch,

And out of her owne goodneſſe make the Net,
That ſhall en-mash them all.

How now Rodorigo?

Enter Rodorigo.

Rodorigo. I do follow here re in the Chace, not
like a Hound that hunts, but one that filles vp the
Crie. My Money is almost ſpent; I haue bin to night
exceedingly well Cudgell'd: And I thinke the ſuſe

with

The Tragedie of Othello

322

will bee, I shall haue so much experience for my paines;
And so, with no money at all, and a little more Wit, re-
turne againe to Venice.

Iago. How poore are they that haue not Patience?
What wound did euer heale but by degrees?
Thou know'st we worke by Wit, and not by Witcheraft
And Wit depends on dilatory time:

Dos' not go well? Caffio hath beaten thee,

And thou by that I small hurt hath cauheer'd Caffio.

Though other things grow faire against the Sun,

Yet Fruites that blodsome firft, will firft be ripe :

Content thy selfe, a while. Introth'tis Morning;

Pleasure, and Action, make the houres seeme short.

Retire thee, go where thou art Billited :

Away; I fay, thou shall know more hereafter :

Nay get thee gone.

Exit Roderigo.

Two things are to be done :

My Wife muft mome for Caffio to her Mifttris:

Ile fet her on my ſelfe, a while, to draw the Moor apart,

And bring him iumpe, when he may Caffio finde

Soliciting his wife: I, that's the way:

Dull not Deuice, by coldneſſe, and delay.

Exit.

## Actus Tertius. Scena Prima.

Enter Caffio, Musitians, and Clowne.

Caffio. Maſters, play heere, I will content your paines,
Something that's briefe: and bid goodmorrow General.

Clo. Why Maſters, haue your Inſtruments bin in Na-
ples, that they ſpeake i'th'Noſe thus?

Muſ. How Sir? how?

Clo. Are these I pray you, winde Inſtruments?

Muſ. I marry are they fir.

Clo. Oh, thereby hangs a tale.

Muſ. Whereby hangs a tale, fir?

Clo. Marry fir, by many a winde Inſtrument that I
know. But Maſters, heere's money for you : and the Ge-
nerall ſo likes your Muſick, that he deſires you for loues
faKE to make no more noife with it.

Muſ. Weil Sir, we will not.

Clo. If you haue any Muſicke that may not be heard,
too't againe. But (as they ſay) to heare Muſicke, the Ge-
nerall do's not greatly care.

Muſ. We haue no ſuch, fir.

Clo. Then put vp your Pipes in your bagge, for Ile
away. Go, vaniſh into ayre, away.

Exit Mu.

Caffio. Doth thou heare me, mine honest Friend?

Clo. No, I heare not your honest Friend :

I heare you.

Caffio. Prythe keepe vp thy Quillets, ther's a poore
peace of Gold for thee: if the Gentlewoman that attends
the Generall be firring, tell her, there's one Caffio en-
treats her a little fauour of Speech, Wilt thou do this?

Clo. She is firring fir: if ſhe will firre hither, I shall
ſeeme to notiſe vnto her.

Exit Clo.

Enter Iago.

In happy time, Iago.

Iago. You haue not bin a-bed then?

Caffio. Why no: the day had broke before we parted.
I haue made bold (Iago) to ſend in to your wife :

My ſuite to her is, that ſhe will to vertuous Desdemona

Procure me some acceſſe.

Iago. Ile ſend her to you preſently:
And Ile deuife a meane to draw the Moore
Out of the way, that your conuerſe and buſineſſe
May be more free.

Caffio. I humbly thanke you for't: I neuer knew
A Florentine more kinde, and honest.

Exit

Enter Aemilia.

Aemil. Goodmorrow(good Lieutenant) I am forrie
For your displeaſure: but all will fure be well.

The Generall and his wife are talking of it.

And ſhe ſpeakes for you ſtoutly. The Moor ſpeakes,
That he you hurt is of great Fame in Cyprus,

And great Affinitie : and that in wholſome Wifedome
He might not but refuse you. But he proteſts he loues you

And needs no other Suitor, but his likings
To bring you in againe.

Caffio. Yet I beſeech you,
If you thinke fir, or that it may be done,
Giuе me aduantage of ſome brieſe Difcourſe
With Desdemona alone.

Aemil. Pray you come in:

I will beſtow you where you ſhall haue time
To ſpeake your boſome freely.

Caffio. I am much bound to you.

## Scena Secunda.

Enter Othello, Iago, and Gentlemen.

Othe. Theſe Letters giue (Iago) to the Pylor,
And by him do my duties to the Senate:

That done, I will be walking on the Workes,
Repaire there to mee.

Iago. Well, my good Lord, Ile doot.

Oth. This Fortification (Gentlemen) ſhall we fee't?

Gent. Well waite vpon your Lordship.

Exeunt

## Scena Tertia.

Enter Desdemona, Caffio, and Aemilia.

Des. Be thou aſſur'd (good Caffio) I will do
All my abilities in thy behalſe.

Aemil. Good Madam do :
I warrant it greenes my Husband,
As if the cauſe were his.

Des. Oh that's an honest Fellow, Do not doubt Caffio
But I will haue my Lord, and you againe
As friendly as you were.

Caffio. Bounteous Madam,
What euer ſhall become of Michael Caffio,
He's neuer any thing but your true Servant.

Des. I know't: I thanke you: you do loue my Lord:
You haue knowne him long, and be you well aſſur'd:
He ſhall in ſtrangeneſſe stand no farther off,
Then in a politique diſtance.

Caffio. I, but Lady,
That policie may either laſt ſo long,
Or ſeede vpon ſuch nice and wateriſh diet,
Or breede it ſelfe ſo out of Circumſtances,
That I being absent, and my place ſupply'd,
My Generall will forger my Loue, and Seruice,

Des. Do not doubt that: before Aemilia here,

The Tragedie of Othello

324

The work of words.

**Iago.** Good my Lord pardon me,
Though I am bound to euery A cle of dutie,
I am not bound to that: All Siaues are free;
Vtter my Thoughts? Why say, they are vild, and falce?
As where's that Palace, whereinto foule things
Sometimes intrude not? Who ha's that breaft so pure,
Wherein vncleanly Apprehensions
Keepe Leetes, and Law-dayes, and in Seffions fit
With meditations lawfull?

**Oth.** Thou do'st confpire against thy Friend (Iago)
If thou but think it him wrong'd, and mak it his eare
A stranger to thy Thoughts.

**Iago.** I do befeech you,
Though I perchance am vicious in my gueſſe
(As I confſeſſe it is my Natures plague
To spy into Abufes, and of my icalouſe
Shapes faults that are not) that your wifedome
From one, that ſo imperſectly conceits,
Would take no notice, nor build your ſelſe a trouble
Out of his ſcattering, and vnſure obſeruance :
It were not for your quiet, nor your good,
Nor for my Manhood, Honesty, and Wifedome,
To let you know my thoughts.

**Oth.** What doſt thou meane?

**Iago.** Good name in Man, & woman(deere my Lord)
Is the immediate Jewell of their Soules;
Who ſteales my purſe, ſteales trath :
'Tis ſomething, nothing;

'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has bin ſlaue to thousands :
But he that filches from me my good Name,
Robs me of that, which not enriches him,
And makes me poore indeed.

**Oth.** Ile know thy Thoughts.

**Iago.** You cannot, if my heart were in your hand,
Nor ſhall not, whilft 'tis in my cuſtodie.

**Oth.** Ha?

**Iago.** Oh, beware my Lord, of icalouſe,
It is the greene-ey'd Monſter, which doth mocke
The meate it feeds on. That Cockold liues in bluſe,
Who certaine of his Fate, loues not his wronger :
But oh, what damned minutes tells he ore,
Who dotes, yet doubts: Sufpeſts, yet foundly loues?

**Oth.** O miſeric.

**Iago.** Poore, and Content, is rich, and rich enough,
But Riches fineleſſe, is as poore as Winter;
To him that euer feares he ſhall be poore :
Good Heauen, the Soules of all my Tribe defend
From Icalouſe.

**Oth.** Why? why is this?
Think it thou, I'd make a Life of Icalouſe;
To follow till the changes of the Moone
With fresh ſupſitions ? No : to be once in doubt,
Is to be refolu'd: Exchange me for a Goat,
When I shall turne the buſineſſe of my Soule
To ſuch exuſſulate, and blow'd Surmiſes,
Matching thy inference. 'Tis not to make me Icalious,
To ſay my wife is ſaire, ſeeds well, loues company,
Is free of Speech, Sings, Playes, and Dances:
Where Vertue is, there are more vertuous.
Nor from mine owne weake merites, will I draw
The Smallest ſeare, or doubt of her reuolt,
For ſhe had eyes, and choſe me. No Iago,
Ile ſee before I doubt; when I doubt, proue;
And on the proofe, there is no more but this,
Away at once with Loue, or Icalouſe.

**Ia.** I am glad of this: For now I shall haue reaſon
To ſhew the Loue and Duty that I beare you
With franker ſpirit. Therefore (as I am bound)
Receiue it from me. I ſpeak not yet of proofe :
Looke to your wife, obſerue her well with Caffio,
Weare your eyes, thus: not Icalious, nor Secure:
I would not haue your free, and Noble Nature,
Out of ſelſe-Bounty, be abus'd: Looke too't:
I know our Country diſpoſition well:
In Venice, they do let Heauen fee the prankes
They dare not ſhew their Husbands.
Their beſt Conſience,
Is not to leaue't vndone, but kept vnknowne.

**Oth.** Doſt thou ſay so?

**Iago.** She did deceiue her Father, marrying you,
And when ſhe ſeem'd to ſhake, and ſeare your looks,
She lou'd them moſt.

**Oth.** And ſo ſhe did,

**Iago.** Why go too then:
Shee that ſo young could giue out ſucha Seeming
To ſeele her Fathers eyes vp, close as Oake,
He thought 'twas Witchcraft.

But I am much too blame:
I humbly do beſeech you of your pardon
For too much louing you.

**Oth.** I am bound to thee for euer.

**Iago.** I ſee this hath a little daſh'd your Spirits :

**Oth.** Not a iot, not a iot.

**Iago.** Truſt me, I ſeare it has :

I hope you will consider what is ſpoke
Comes from your Loue.

But I do ſet y're moou'd :
I am to pray you, not to ſtraine my ſpeech
To groſſer iſſues, nor to larger reach,
Then to ſupſition.

**Oth.** I will not.

**Iago.** Should you do ſo (my Lord)

My ſpeech ſhould fall into ſuch vild ſuccesſe,
Which my Thoughts asym'd not.

Caffio's my worthy Friend:

My Lord. I ſee y're moud.

**Oth.** No, not much mou'd:

I do not thinke but Dedefmona's honest.

**Iago.** Long liue ſhe ſo;

And long liue you to thinke ſo.

**Oth.** And yet how Nature erring from it ſelſe,
Iago. I, there's the point:
As (to be bold with you)

Not to affect many proposed Matches
Of her owne Clime, Complexion, and Degree,
Whereeto we ſee in all things, Nature tends:
Foh, one may ſimel in ſuch a will moſt ranke,
Foule diſproportions, Thoughts vnnaſturaſ,
But (pardon me) I do not in poſition
Difſtinetly ſpeak of her, though I may ſeare
Her will, recoyling to her better iudgement,
May tal to match you with her Country ſormes,
And happily repent.

**Oth.** Farewell, farewell:
If more thou doſt perceiue, let me know more:
Ser on thy wife to obſerue.

Leaue me Iago.

**Iago.** My Lord, I take my leaue.

**Othel.** Why did I marry?

This honest Creature (doubtlesſe)

Sees, and knowes more, much more then he vnſolds.

the Moore of Venice.

325

Iago. My Lord, I would I might treat your Honor
To lean this thing no farther: Leave it to time,
Although it is fit that Caffio haue his Place;
For sure he filles it vp with great Ability;
Yet if you pleafe, to him off a while:
You shall by that perceive him, and his meanes:
Note if your Lady (saine) his Entertainment
With any strong, or vehement importunitie,
Much will be seene in that: In the meane time,
Let me be thought too bufe in my fears,
(As worthy cause I haue to feare I am)
And hold her free, I do befeech your Honor.

Oth. Feare not my government.

Iago. I once more take my leave.

Oth. This Fellow's of exceeding honesty,
And knowes all Quantities with a learn'd Spirit
Of humane dealings. If I do proue her Haggard,
Though that her Jeffes were my deere heart-ftrings,
I'd whistle her off, and let her downe the winde
To prey at Fortune. Haply, for I am blacke,
And have not those soft parts of Conversation
That Chamberers haue: Or for I am declin'd
Into the vale of yeares (yet that's not much)
Shee's gone. I am abus'd, and my reelee
Must be to loath her. Oh Curse of Marriage!
That we can call these delicate Creatures ours,
And not their Appetites? I had rather be a Toad,
And line vpon the vapour of a Dungeon,
Then keepe a corner in the thing I haue
For others vies. Yet 'tis the plague to Great-ones,
Prerogatiu'd are they leſſe then the Bafe,
'Tis deftiny vnthunnable, like death:
Euen then, this forked plague is Fated to vs,
When we do quicken. Looke where she comes:

Enter Defdemona and Œmilia.

If she be false, Heauen mock'd it ſelſe:
Ile not beleeue't.

Def. How now, my deere Othello?

Your dinner, and the generous Iſlanders
By you inuited, do attend your preſence.

Oth. I am too blame.

Def. Why do you ſpeake so faintly?

Are you not well?

Oth. I haue a paine vpon my Forehead, heere.

Def. Why that's with watching, 'twill away againe.

Let me but binde it hard, within this houre
It will be well.

Oth. Your Napkin is too little.

Let it alone: Come, Ile go in with you.

Def. I am very forſty that you are not well.

Aemil. I am glad I haue found this Napkin:
This was her firſt remembrance from the Moore,
My wayward Husband hath a hundred times
Woo'd me to ſeale it. But she ſo loues the Token,
(For he coniur'd her, (he should euer keepe it)
That she reſerues it euermore about her,
To kiffe, and talke too. Ile haue the worke tane out,
And giu't Iago: what he will do with it
Heauen knowes, not I:
In nothing, but to please his Fantasie.

Enter Iago.

Iago. How now? What do you heere alone?

Aemil. Do not you chide: I haue a thing for you.

Iago. You haue a thing for me?

It is a common thing.

Aemil. Hah?

Iago. To haue a foolish wife.

Aemil. Oh, is that ali? What will you giue me now
For that fame Handkerchieſe.

Iago. What Handkerchieſe?

Aemil. What Handkerchieſe?

Why that the Moore firſt gaue to Defdemona,
That which ſo often you did bid me ſteale.

Iago. Haſt ſolne it from her?

Aemil. No: but ſhe let it drop by negligence,
And to th'aduantage, I being heere, took't vp:
Looke, heere 'tis.

Iago. A good wench, giue it me.

Aemil. What will you do with't, that you haue bene
ſo earneſt to haue me filch it?

Iago. Why, what is that to you?

Aemil. If it be not for ſome purpose of import,
Giue't me againe. Poore Lady, (shee) run mad
When ſhe shall lacke it.

Iago. Be not acknowledge on't:
I haue ſe for it. Go, leaue me.
I will in Caffie's Lodging loose this Napkin,
And let him finde it. Trifles light as ayre,
Are to the icalious, confirmations ſtrong,
As proofes of holy Writ. This may do ſomething.
The Moore already changes with my payſon:
Dangerous conceites, are in their Natures poyſons,
Which at the firſt are ſcarſe found to diſtaste:
But with a little acte vpon the blood,
Burne like the Mines of Sulphure. I did ſay ſo.

Enter Othello.

Looke where he comes: Not Poppy, nor Mandragora,
Nor all the drowſie Syrrups of the world
Shall euer medicine thee to that ſweete ſleepe
Which thou owd't yesterday.

Oth. Ha, ha, falſe to mee?

Iago. Why how now Generall? No more of that.

Oth. Auant, be gone: Thou haſt ſer me on the Racke:
I ſware 'tis better to be much abus'd,
Then but to know't a little.

Iago. How now, my Lord?

Oth. What ſenſe had I, in her ſtolne houres of Luft?
I saw't not, thought it not: it harm'd not me:
I leſt the next night well, ſed well, was free, and merrie,
I found not Caffio's kiffes on her Lippes:
He that is robb'd, not wanting what is ſolne,
Let him not know't, and he's not robb'd at all.

Iago. I am forſy to heare this?

Oth. I had beene happy, if the generall Campe,
Pyoners and all, had taſted her ſweet Body,
So I had nothing knowne. Oh now, for euer
Farewell the Tranquill minde; farewell Content;
Farewell the plumed Troopes, and the bigge Warres,
That makes Ambition, Vertue! Oh farewell,
Farewell the neighing Steed, and the ſhrill Trumpe,
The Spirit-ſtirring Drum, th'Eare-piercing Fife,
The Royall Banner, and all Qualitie,
Pride, Pompe, and Circumſtance of glorious Warre:
And O you mortall Engines, whose rude throates
Th'immortall Joues dread Clamours, counterſet,
Farewell: Othello's Occupation's gone.

Iago. Is't possible my Lord?

Oth. Villaine, be ſure thou proue my Loue a Whore;
Be ſure of it: Giue me the Occular proofe,

Or

The Tragedie of Othello

326

Or by the worth of mine eternal Soule,

Thou hadst bin beater haue bin borne a Dog

Then anwer my wak'd wrath.

Iago. Is't come to this?

Oth. Make me to fee't: or (at the least) so proue it,

That the probation beare no Hindge, nor Loope;

To hang a doubt on: Or woe vpon thy life.

Iago. My Noble Lord.

Oth. If thou doft flander her, and torture me,

Neuer pray more: Abandon all remorſe

On Horrors head, Horrors accumulate:

Do deeds to make Heauen weepe, all Earth amaz'd;

For nothing canſt thou to damnation adde,

Greater then that.

Iago. O Grace! O Heauen forgiue me!

Are you a Man? Haue you a Soule? or Senſe?

God buy you : take mine Office. Oh wretched Foole,

That lou'd it to make thine Honesty, a Vice!

Oh monſtrous world! Take note, take note (O World)
To be direct and honest, is not ſafe.

I thanke you for this profit, and from hence

Ile loue no Friend, ſith Loue breeds ſuch offence.

Oth. Nay ſay : thou shouldst be honest.

Iago. I should be wife; for Honesty's a Boole,
And loofes that it workes for...

Oth. By the World,

I thinke my Wife be honest, and thinke ſhe is not:
I thinke that thou art uſt, and thinke thou art not:
Ile haue ſome proofe. My name that was freeh
As Dians Vifage, is now begrim'd and blacke
As mine owne face. If there be Cords, or Knines,
Poyſion, or Fire, or ſuffocating ſtreames,
Ile not induceth. Would I were fatis ſied.

Iago. I fee you are eaten vp with Paſſion:
I do repent me, that I put it to you.
You would be ſatisfied?

Oth. Would? Nay, and I will.

Iago. And may: but how? How ſatisfied, my Lord?
Would you the ſuper-vifion groſſely gape on?

Behold her top'd?

Oth. Death, and damnation. Oh!

Iago. It were a tedious difficulty, I thinke,
To bring them to that Proſpect: Damne them then,
If euer mortall eyes do fee them boulſter
More then their owne. What then? How then?
What ſhall I ſay? Where's Satisfaction?
It is impoffible you should fee this,

Were they as prime as Goates, as hot as Monkeyes,
As ſalt as Wolues in pride, and Fooles as groſſe
As Ignorance, made drunke. But yet, I ſay,
If imputation, and ſtrong circumſtances,
Which leade directly to the doore of Truth,
Will give you ſatisfaction, you might haue't.

Oth. Giue me a living reafon ſhe's disſloyall,

Iago. I do not like the Office.

But ſith I am entered in this cauſe so farre
(Prick'd too't) by fool ſhish Honesty, and Loue)

I will go on. I lay with Caffio lately,

And being troubled with a raging tooth,
I could not fleepe. There are a kinde of men,

So loose of Soule, that in their ſleepes will mutter

Their Affayres: one of this kinde is Caffio:

In ſleepe I heard him ſay, ſweet Desdemona,

Let vs be wary, let vs hide our Loues,

And then (Sir) would he gripe, and wring my hand:
Cry, oh ſweet Creature: then kiffe me hard,

As if he pluckt vp kiffes by the rootes,
That grew vpon my lippes, laid his Leg o're my Thigh,
And ſigh, and kiffe, and then cry curled Fate,
That gaue thee to the Moore.

Oth. O monſtrous ! monſtrous!

Iago. Nay, this was but his Dreame.

Oth. But this denoted a fore-gone conclusion,
'Tis a ſhrew'd doubt, though it be but a Dreame.

Iago. And this may helpe to thicken other proofes,
That do demonſtrate thinly.

Oth. Ile teare her all to peeces.

Iago. Nay yet be wife; yet we fee nothing done,
She may be honest yet: Tell me but this,

Haue you not ſometimes ſeene a Handkerchieſe
Spotted with Strawberries, in your wiuſes hand?

Oth. I gaue her ſuch a one: 'twas my firſt gift.

Iago. I know not that: but ſuch a Handkerchieſe
(I am ſure it was your wiuſes) did I to day
See Caffio wipe his Beard with.

Orb. If it be that.

Iago. If it be that, or any, it was hers.
It speaks againſt her with the other proofes.

Othel. O that the Slave had forty thouand lines:
One is too poore, too weake for my reuengue.

Now do I fee't true. Looke here Iago,

All my fond loue thus do I blow to Heauen. 'Tis gone,
Arife blacke vengeance, from the hollow helſ,
Yeeld vp (O Loue) you Crowne, and hearted Thron'e
To tyrannous Hate. Swell boſome with thy fraught,
For'tis of Alpickes tongues.

Iago. Yet be content.

Oth. Oh blood, blood, blood.

Iago. Patience I ſay: your minde may change.

Oth. Neuer Iago. Like to the Ponticke Sea,
Whose Ieie Current, and compulſiue courſe,
Neu'r keepes retyring ebbe, but keepes due on
To the Proponticke, and the Helleſpont:

Euen ſo my bloody thoughts, with violent pace

Shall neu'r looke backe, neu'r ebbe to humble Loue,
Till that a capeable, and wide Reuenge
Swallow them vp. Now by yond Marble Heauen,

In the due reuerence of a Sacred vow,

I heere engage my words.

Iago. Do not rile yet:

Witneſſe you euer-burning Lights aboue,

You Elements, that clip vs round about,

Witneſſe that heere Iago doth giue vp

The execution of his wit, hands, heart,
To wrong'd Othello's ſeruice. Let him command

And to obey shall be in me remorſe,
What bloody buſineſſe euer.

Oth. I greet thy loue,
Not with vaine thanks, but with acceptance bounteouſ,
And will vpon the inſant put thee too't.
Within these three dayes let me heare thee ſay,
That Caffio's not aliuie.

Iago. My Friend is dead:
'Tis done at your Requeſt.

But let her liue.

Oth. Damne her Iewde Minx:
O damne her, damne her.

Come go with me a-part, I will withdraw

To furniſh me with ſome Swiſt meanes of death
For the faire Duell.

Now art thou my Lieutenant.

Iago. I am your owne for euer.

Exeunt.
Seena.

the More of Venice.

## Scena Quarta.

Enter Defdemona, Æmilia, and Clown.

Def. Do you know Sirrah, where Lieutenant Caffio
lyes?

Clo. I dare not say he lies any where.

Def. Why man?

Clo. He's a Soldier, and for me to say a Souldier lyes,
'tis flabbing.

Def. Go too : where lodges he?

Clo. To tell you where he lodges, is to tel you where
I lye.

Def. Can any thing be made of this ?

Clo. I know not where he lodges, and for mee to de-
uife a lodging, and say he lies heere, or he lies there, were
to lye in mine owne throat.

Def. Can you enquire him out? and be edified by re-
port?

Clo. I will Catechize the world for him, that is, make
Questions, and by them anſwer.

Def. Seeke him, bidde him come hither : tell him, I
haue moou'd my Lord on his behalfe, and hope all will
be well.

Clo. To do this, is within the compaſſe of man's Wit,
and therefore I will attempt the doing it.

Exit Clo.

Def. Where ſhouſe the Handkerchſe, Æ-
milia?

Æmil. I know not Madam.

Def. Beleue me, I had rather haue loſt my purſe
Full of Cruzadoes. And but my Noble Moore
Is true of minde, and made of no ſuch bafeſſe,
As ialious Creatures are, it were enough
To put him to ill-thinking,

Æmil. Is he not ialious?

Def. Who, he? I thinke the Sun where he was borne,
Drew all ſuch humors from him.

Æmil. Looke where he comes.

Enter Othello.

Def. I will not leaue him now, till Caffio be
Call'd to him. How is't with you, my Lord?

Oth. Well my good Lady. Oh hardnes to diſſembler
How do you, Defdemona?

Def. Well, my good Lord.

Oth. Giue me your hand.

This hand is moſt my Lady.

Def. It hath felt no age, nor knowne no ſorrow.

Oth. This argues fruitfulneſſe, and liberall heart :
Hot, hot, and moyſt. This hand of yours requires

A ſqueſter from Liberty; Faſting, and Prayer,
Much Caſtigation, Exerciſe devout,
For heere's a yong, and ſweating Diuell heere
That commonly rebels: 'Tis a good hand,
A franke one.

Def. You may (indeed) ſay for:
For twas that hand that gaue away my heart.

Oth. A liberall hand. The hearts of old, gaue hands :
But our new Heraldry is hands, not hearts.

Def. I cannot ſpeake of this :
Come, now, your promise.

Oth. What promise, Chucke?

Def. I haue ſent to bid Caffio come ſpeake with you,
Oth. I haue a ſalt and ſorry Rhew me offends me:

Lend me thy Handkerchſe.

Def. Heere my Lord,

Oth. That which I gaue you.

Def. I haue it not about me.

Oth. Not?

Def. No indeed, my Lord.

Oth. That's a fault: That Handkerchſe

Did an Ægyptian to my Mother giue:

She was a Charmer, and could almost read

The thoughts of people. She told her, while ſhe kept it,
'T would make her Amiable, and subdue my Father

Intirely to her loue: But if she loft it,

Or made a Guift of it, my Fathers eye

Should hold her loathed, and his Spirits ſhould hunt

After new Fancies. She dying, gaue it me,

And bid me (when my Fate would haue me Wi'u'd)

To giue it her. I did i; and take heede on't,

Make it a Darling, like your precious eye :

To looke't, or giue't away, were ſuch perdition,

As nothing elfe could match.

Def. Is't poffible?

Oth. 'Tis true : There's Magicke in the web of it:
A Sybill that had numbed in the world

The Sun to course, two hundred compaſſes,

In her Prophetticke ſturie ſlow'd the Worke :

The Wormes were hallowed, that did breede the Silke,

And it was dyde in Mummey, which the Skilfull

Conferu'd of Maidens hearts.

Def. Indeed ? Is't true?

Oth. Moſt veritabl, therefore looke too't well.

Def. Then would to Heauen, that I had neuer ſeeue?

Oth. Ha? wherefore?

Def. Why do you ſpeake ſo flartingly, and rath?

Oth. Is't loſt? Is't gon? Speak, is't out o'th'way?

Def. Bleſſe vs.

Oth. Say you?

Def. It is not loſt: but what and if it were?

Oth. How?

Def. I ſay it is not loſt.

Oth. Fetch't, let me fee't.

Def. Why ſo I can : but I will not now

This is a tricke to put me from my ſuite,

Pray you let Caffio be recei'u'd againe.

Oth. Fetch me the Handkerchſe,
My minde miſ-giues.

Def. Come, come: you'l neuer meete a more ſuffici-
ent man.

Oth. The Handkerchſe,

Def. A man that all his time

Hath founded his good Fortunes on your loue;

Shar'd dangers with you.

Oth. The Handkerchſe.

Def. Infooth, you are too blame.

Oth. Away.

Exit Othello.

Æmil. Is not this man ialious?

Def. I neu'r ſaw this before.

Sure, there's some wonder in this Handkerchikſe,
I am moſt vnhappy in the loſſe of it.

Æmil. 'Tis not a yeare or two ſhewes vs a man:
They are all but Stomackes, and we all but Food,
They eate vs hungerly, and when they are full
They belch vs.

Enter Iago, and Caffio.

Looke you, Caffio and my Husband.

Iago. There is no other way : 'tis he muſt doot:
And loe the happineſſe : go, and importune her.

Def.

328

The Tragedie of Othello

Def. How now (good Caffio) what's the newes with you?

Caffio. Madam, my former suite. I do befeech you,
That by your vertuous meanes, I may againe
Exift, and be a member of his loue,
Whom I, with all the Office of my heart
Intirely honour, I would not be delayd.
If my offence, be of such mortall kinde,
That nor my Seruice paft, nor prefent Sorrowes,
Nor purpós'd merit in futurity,
Can ranfome me into his loue againe,
But to know so, muft be my benefit :
So shall I cloath me in a forc'd content,
And that my ſelfe vp in ſome other course
To Fortunes Almes.

Def. Alas (thrice-gentle Caffio)
My Aduocation is not now in Tune;
My Lord, is not my Lord; nor should I know him,
Were he in Fauour; as in Humour alter'd.
So helpe me euery ſpirit ſanctified,
As I haue ſpoken for you all my beſt,
And ſtood within the blanke of his diſpleasure
For my free ſpeech. You muſt awhile be patient:
What I can do, I will: and more I will
Then for my ſelfe, I dare. Let that ſuſce you.

Iago. Is my Lord angry?

Emil. He went hence but now :
And certainly in ſtrange vnquietneſſe.

Iago. Can he be angry? I haue ſeene the Cannon
When it hath blowne his Rankes into the Ayre,
And like the Diuell from his very Arme
Pufft his owne Brother : And is he angry ?
Something of moment then: I will go meet him,
There's matter in't indeed, if he be angry.

Exit

Def. I prythee do so. Something ſure of State,
Either from Venice, or ſome vnhatch'd præſtife
Made demonſtrable heere in Cyprus, to him,
Hath pudled his cleare Spirit: and in ſuch caſes,
Mens Natures wrangle with inferiour things,
Though great ones are their obiect. 'Tis euen so.
For let our finger ake, and it endues
Our other healthfull members, euen to a ſense
Of paine. Nay, we muſt thinke men are not Gods,
Nor of them looke for ſuch obſeruancie
As fit the Bridal. Befrew me much, Emilia,
I was (vnhandſome Warrior, as I am)
Arraigning his vnkindneſſe with my ſoule:
But now I finde, I had ſuborn'd the Witneſſe,
And he's Indited falſely.

Emil. Pray heauen it bee

State matters, as you thinke, and no Conception,
Nor no Iealousious Toy concerning you.

Def. Alas the day, I neuer gaue him cauſe.

Emil. But Iealous, ſoules will not be anſwer'd so;
They are not euer Iealous for the cauſe,
But Iealous, for they're Iealous. It is a Monster
Begot upon it ſelfe, borne on it ſelfe.

Def. Heauen keepe the Monster from Othello's mind.

Emil. Lady, Amen.

Def. I will go ſeeke him. Caffio, walke heere about;
If I doe finde him fit, Ile move your ſuite,
And ſeeke to effect it to my vttermeſt.

Exit

Caff. I humbly thanke your Ladyſhip.

Enter Bianca.

Bianc. 'Sauē you (Friend Caffio.)

Caffio. What make you from home?
How is't with you, my moſt fauſe Bianca ?

Indeed (sweet Loue) I was coming to your house.

Bian. And I was going to your Lodging, Caffio.
What keepe a weeke away? Seuen dayes, and Nights?
Eight ſcore eight houres? And Louers abſent howres
More tedious then the Diall, eight ſcore times?
Oh weary reek'ning.

Caffio. Pardon me, Bianca:
I haue this while with leaden thoughts beene preſt,
But I ſhall in a more continue time
Strike off this ſcore of abſence. Sweet Bianca
Take me this worke out.

Bianca. Oh Caffio, whence came this?
This is ſome Token from a newer Friend,
To the felt-Abſence: now I feele a Caufe:
Is't come to this? Well, well.

Caffio. Go too, woman :
Throw your vilde geſſes in the Diuels teeth,
From whence you haue them. You are icalious now,
That this is from ſome Miftis, ſome remembrance;
No, in good troth Bianca.

Bian. Why, who's is it?

Caffio. I know not neither :
I found it in my Chamber,
I like the worke well; Ere it be demanded
(As like enough it will) I would haue it copied;
Take it, and doo't, and leaue me for this time.

Bian. Leaue you? Wherefore?

Caffio. I do attend heere on the Generall,
And thinke it no addition nor my wifh
To haue him ſee me woman'd.

Bian. Why, I ptaу you?

Caffio. Not that I loue you not.

Bian. But that you do not loue me.
I pray you bring me on the way a little,
And ſay, if I ſhall fee you ſoone at night?

Caffio. 'Tis but a little way that I can bring you,
For I attend heere: But Ile fee you ſoone.

Bian. 'Tis very good. I muſt be circumſtanc'd.

Exeunt owners.

Actus Quartus. Scena Prima.

Enter Othello, and Iago.

Iago. Will you thinke so?

Oth. Thinke so, Iago?

Iago. What, to kiffe in private?

Oth. An vnauthoriz'd kiffe?

Iago. Or to be naked with her Friend in bed,
An houre, or more, not meaning any harme?

Orb. Naked in bed (Iago) and not meane harme?

It is hypocriſe againſt the Diuell:
They that meane vertuouſly, and yet do so,
The Diuell their vertue tempts, and they tempt Heauen.
Iago. If they do nothing, 'tis a Veniall ſlip :

But if I giue my wife a Handkerchieſe.
Orb. What then?

Iago. Why then 'tis hers (my Lord) and being hers,
She may (I thinke) beſtow't on any man.

Orb. She is Proteſſare of her honor too:
May the giue that?

Iago.

the Moore of Venice.

329

**Iago.** Her honor is an effence that's not feene,
They have it very oft, that have it not.
But for the Handkerchiefe.

**Oth.** By heaven, I would most gladly have forgot it:
Thou saidst (oh, it comes ore my memorie,
As doth the Rauen o're the infectious houfe :
Boading to all) he had my Handkerchiefe.

**Iago.** I: what of that?

**Oth.** That's not so good now.

**Iago.** What if I had said, I had feene him do you wrong?
Or heard him say (as Knaues be such abroad,
Who hauing by their owne importunate suit,
Or voluntary dotage of some Miftris,
Convinced or supply'd them cannot chufe
But they must blab.)

**Oth.** Hath he said any thing?

**Iago.** He hath (my Lord) but be you well affin'd,
No more then he'll vn-seeare.

**Oth.** What hath he said?

**Iago.** Why, that he did; I know not what he did.

**Oth.** What? What?

**Iago.** Lye.

**Oth.** With her?

**Iago.** With her? On her: what you will.

**Oth.** Iye with her? Iye on her? We say Iye on her,
when they be-lye-her. I ye with her: that's fullome:
Handkerchiefe: Confessions: Handkerchiefe. To con-
fesse, and be hang'd for his labour. First, to be hang'd,
and then to confesse: I tremble at it. Nature would not
inveſt her ſelfe in ſuch shadowing paffion, without ſome
Iuſtruction. It is not words that shakes me thus, (pith)
Nofes, Eares, and Lippes: is't poffible. Conſeſſe? Hand-
kerchieſe? O diuell.

Falls in a Traunce.

**Iago.** Worke on,

My Medicine workes. Thus credulous Fooles are caught,
And many worthy, and chaſt Dames euen thus,
(All guiltieſſe) meete reproach; what hoa ? My Lord?
My Lord, I say: Othello.

Enter Caffio.

**How now Caffio?**

**Caf.** What's the matter?

**Iago.** My Lord is falneinto an Epilepſie,

This is his ſecond Fit: he had one yefterday.

**Caf.** Rub him about the Temples.

**Iago.** The Lethargie muſt have his quyet course:
If not, he foames at mouth: and by and by
Breakes out to ſauage madneſſe. Looke, he stirres:
Do you withdraw your ſelfe a little while,
He will recouer straight: when he is gone,
I would on great occasion, ſpeake with you.

**How is it Generall?** Haue you nor hurt your head?

**Oth.** Doth thou mocke me?

**Iago.** I mocke you not, by Hesuen:

Would you would beare your Fortune like a Man.

**Oth.** A Horned man's a Monſter, and a Beaſt.

**Iago.** Ther's many a Beaſt then in a popuſious City,
And many a ciuill Monſter.

**Oth.** Did he confesse it?

**Iago.** Good Sir, be a man:

Thinke euery bearded fellow that's but yoak'd
May draw with you. There's Millions now alive,
That nightly lye in chofe vnproper beds,
Which they dare ſwrece peculiar. Your cafe is better
Oh, 'tis the spight of helſe, the Fiends Arch-mock,
To lip a wanton in a ſecure Cowch;

And to ſuppofe her chaſt. No, let me know,
And knowing what I am, I know what ſhe ſhall be.

**Oth.** Oh, thou art wife: 'tis certaine,

**Iago.** Stand you a while apart,

Confine your ſelfe but in a patient Lift,

Whilſt you were heere, o're-whelmed with your griefe
(A paffion moſt reſulting ſuch a man)

Caffio came hither. I lifted him away,

And lay'd good ſaufes vpon your Extafie,

Bad him anon returne: and heere iſpeake with me,

The which he promis'd. Do but encave your ſelfe,

And marke the Fleeres, the Gybes, and notable Scornes

That dwell in euery Region of his face.

For I will make him tell the Tale anew;

Where, how, how oft, how long ago, and when
He hath, and is againe to cope your wife.

I ſay, but marke his geſture: marry Patience,

Or I ſhall ſay y'are all in all in Spleene,

And nothing of a man.

**Oth.** Do't thou heare, Iago,

I will be found moſt cunning in my Patience:

But (do't thou heare) moſt bloody.

**Iago.** That's nor amiffe,

But yet keepe time in all: will you withdraw?

Now will I question Caffio of Bianca,

A Huyſwife that by ſelling her defires

Buys her ſelfe Bread, and Cloath. It is a Creature

That does on Caffio, (as 'tis the Strumpets plague

To be-guile many, and be be-guil'd by one)

He when he heares of her, cannot refraine

From the excelle of Laughter. Heere he comes.

Enter Caffio.

As he ſhall smile, Othello shall go mad:

And his vnbookiſh leſouſie muſt conferue

Poore Caffio's ſmiles, geſtures, and light behauiologicals

Quite in the wrong. How do you Lieutenant?

**Caf.** The worſer, that you give me the addition,
Whole want euen killes me.

**Iago.** Ply Desdemona well, and you are sure on't:

Now, if this Suit lay in Bianca's dowre,

How quickly should you ſpeed?

**Caf.** Alas poore Caitiffe.

**Oth.** Looke how he laughs already.

**Iago.** I neuer knew woman loue man fo.

**Caf.** Alas poore Rogue, I thinke indeed the loues me.

**Oth.** Now he denies it faintely: and laughs it out.

**Iago.** Do you heare Caffio?

**Oth.** Now he importunes him

To tell it o're: go too, well faid, well ſaid.

**Iago.** She giues it out, that you ſhall marry her.

Do you intend it?

**Caf.** Ha, ha, ha.

**Oth.** Do ye triumph, Romaine? do you triumph?

**Caf.** I marry. What ? A cuſtomer sprythee beare

Some Charitie to my wit, do not thinke it

So vnwholeſome. Ha, ha, ha.

**Oth.** So, fo, fo, fo: they laugh, that winnes.

**Iago.** Why the cry goes, that you marry her.

**Caf.** Prythee ſay true.

**Iago.** I am a very Villaine eſſe.

**Oth.** Haue you ſcoar'd me ? Well.

**Caf.** This is the Monkeys owne giuing out :

She is perſwaded I will marry her

Out of her owne loue & flattery, not out of my promife.

vv

Othe

The Tragedie of Othello

33°

Oth. Iago becomes me: now he begins the story.

Caffio. She was heere euen now: she haunts me in euery place. I was the other day talking on the Sea-banke with certaine Venetians, and thither comes the Bauble, and falls me thus about my necke.

Oth. Crying oh deere Caffio, as it were: his ieſture impors it.

Caffio. So hangs, and lolls, and weepes vpon me: So shakes, and pulls me. Ha,ha,ha.

Orb. Now he tells how she pluckt him to my Cham-
ber: oh, I fee that noſe of yours, but not that dogge, I
ſhall throw it to.

Caffio. Well, I muſt leave her companie.

Iago. Before me: looke where she comes.

Enter Bianca.

Caff. 'Tis ſuch another Fitchew: marry a perfum'd one? What do you meane by this haunting of me?

Bian. Let the diuell, and his dam haunt you: what did you meane by that fame Handkerchieſe, you gaue me euen now? I was a fine Foole to take it: I muſt take out the worke? A likely piece of worke, that you should finde it in your Chamber, and know not who left it there. This is ſome Minxes token, & I muſt take out the worke? There, giue it your Hobbey-horſe, where ſoſuer you had it, I 'le take out no worke on't.

Caffio. How now, my ſweete Bianca?

How now? How now?

Othe. By Heauen, that ſhould be my Handkerchieſe.

Bian. If you'll come to supper to night you may, if you will not, come when you are next prepar'd for. Exit

Iago. After her: after her.

Caff. I muſt, ſhe'll rayle in the streets else.

Iago. Will you fup there?

Caffio. Yes, I intend to.

Iago. Well, I may chance to fee you: for I would ve-

ry faine ſpeake with you.

Caff. Prythee come: will you?

Iago. Go too: ſay no more.

Oth. How ſhall I further him, Iago.

Iago. Did you perceiue how he laugh'd at his vice?

Oth. Oh, Iago.

Iago. And did you fee the Handkerchieſe?

Oth. Was that mine?

Iago. Yours by this hand: and to fee how he prizes the fooliſh woman your wife: ſhe gaue it him, and he hath giu'n it his whore.

Oth. I would haue him nine yeeres a killing:

A fine woman, a faire woman, a ſweete woman?

Iago. Nay, you muſt forget that.

Othello. I, let her rot and perſiſh, and be damn'd to night, for ſhe shall not lie. No, my heart is turn'd to ſtone: I ſtrike it, and it hurts my hand. Oh, the world hath not a ſweeter Creature: ſhe might lye by an Emperours ſide, and command him Taskes.

Iago. Nay, that's not your way.

Othe. Hang her, I do but ſay what ſhe is: ſo delicate with her Needle: an admirable Mufitan. Oh ſhe will ſing the Sauageneſſe out of a Beare: of ſo high and plenteous wit, and inuention?

Iago. She's the worſe for all this.

Othe. Oh, a thousand, a thousand times:

And then of ſo gentle a condition?

Iago. I too gentle.

Othe. Nay, that's certaine:

But yet the pitty of it, Iago: oh Iago, the pitty of it

Iago.

Iago. If you are so fond ouer her iniquitie: giue her pattent to offend, for if it touch not you, it comes neere no body.

Oth. I will chop her into Mefſes: Cuckold me?

Iago. Oh, 'tis foule in her.

Oth. With mine Officer?

Iago. That's fouler.

Othe. Get me ſome payſon, Iago, this night. Ile not expofulate with her: leaſt her body and beautie vnprou'd my mind againe: this night Iago.

Iago. Do it not with payſon, fitangle her in her bed,
Euen the bed ſhe hath contaminated.

Orb. Good, good :

The Iuſtice of it pleases : very good.

Iago. And for Caffio, let me be his vndertaker:
You shall heare more by midnight.

Enter Lodonico, Desdemona, and Attendants.

Othe. Excellent good: What Trumpet is that fame?

Iago. I warrant ſomething from Venice,
'Tis Lodonico, this, comes from the Duke,
See, your wife's with him.

Lodo. Saue you worthy Generall.

Othe. With all my heart Sir.

Lod. The Duke, and the Senators of Venice greet you,

Othe. I kiffle the Inſtrument of their pleatures.

Def. And what's the newes, good cozen Lodonico?

Iago. I am very glad to fee you Signior:

Welcome to Cyprus.

Lod. I thank you: how do's Lieutenant Caffio?

Iago. Lyes Sir,

Def. Cozen, there's ſalne betweene him, & my Lord,
An vnkind breach: but you ſhall make all well,

Othe. Are you ſure of that?

Def. My Lord?

Othe. This faile you not to do, as you will

Lod. He did not call: he's bufie in the paper,

Is there deuifion 'twixt my Lord, and Caffio?

Def. A moſt vnhappy one: I would do much
T'actone: them, for the loue I beare to Caffio.

Oth. Fire, and brimestone.

Def. My Lord.

Oth. Are you wife?

Def. What is he angrie?

Lod. May be the Letter mou'd him.

For as I thinke, they do command him home,
Deputing Caffio in his Gouernment.

Def. Truſt me, I am glad on't.

Othe. Indeed?

Def. My Lord?

Othe. I am glad to fee you mad.

Def. Why, ſweete Othello?

Othe. Diuell.

Def. I haue not deferu'd this.

Lod. My Lord, this would not be beleeu'd in Venice,
Though I should ſware I faw't. 'Tis very much,
Make her amends: ſhe weepes.

Othe. Oh diuell, diuell:
If that the Earth could teeme with womans teares,
Each drop ſhe falls, would proue a Crocodile:
Out of my fight.

Def. I will not flay to offend you.

Lod. Truely obedient Lady :

I do beſeech your Lordship call her backe.

the Moore of Venice.

331

Othe. Miftris.

Def. My Lord.

Othe. What would you with her, Sir?

Lod. Who I, my Lord?

Othe. I, you did wifl, that I would make her turne:
Sir, she can turne, and turne : and yet go on
And turne againe. And she can weepe, Sir, weepe.
And he's obedient : as you fay obedient.
Very obedient: proceed you in your reares.

Concerning this Sir, (of well-painted paflion)
I am commanded home : get you away :

Ile send for you anon. Sir I obey the Mandate,
And will returne to Venice. Hence, auaint :

Caffio shall haue my Place. And Sir, to night
I do entreat, that we may fup together.

You are welcome Sir to Cyprus,

Goates, and Monkeys.

Exit.

Lod. Is this the Noble Moore, whom our full Senate
Call all in all sufficient? Is this the Nature
Whom Paflion could not fke? Whole ſolid vertue
The shot of Accident, nor dart of Chace
Could neither graze, nor pierce?

Iago. He is, much chang'd.

Lod. Are his wits faſſe? Is he not light of Braine ?

Iago. He's that he is : I may not breath my cenſure.

What he might be: if what he might, he is not,
I would to heauen he were.

Lod. What? Strike his wife?

Iago. 'Faith that was not ſo well: yet would I knew
That ftoke would proue the workt.

Lod. Is it his vie?

Or did the Letters, worke vpon his blood,

And new create his fault?

Iago. Alas, alas:

It is not honeſtie in me to ſpeake

What I haue ſeene, and knowne. You ſhall obſerue him,
And his owne courſes will deonce him ſo,

That I may faſſe my ſpeech : do but go after

And marke how he continues,

Lod. I am sorry that I am deceiu'd in him.

Excent.

## Scena Secunda.

Enter Othello and Emilia.

Othe. You haue ſeene nothing then?

Emil. Nor euer heard : nor euer did ſuſpect.

Othe. Yes, you haue ſeene Caffio, and ſhe together.

Emi. But then I ſaw no harme: and then I heard,
Each ſyllable that breath made vp betweene them.

Othe. What? Did they neuer whifper?

Emil. Neuer my Lord.

Othe. Nor ſend you out o'th'way?

Emil. Neuer.

Othe. To fetch her Fan, her Gloues, her Mask, nor no—

Emil. Neuer my Lord. (thing?

Othe. That's ſtrange.

Emil. I durſt (my Lord) to wager, ſhe is honest:

Lay downe my Soule at ſtake: If you thinke other,
Remoue your thought. It doth abufe your boſome:
If any wretch haue put this in your head,

Let Heauen requit it with the Serpents curſe,

For if ſhe be not honest, chaſte, and true,
There's no man happy. The pureſt of their Wives
Is foule as Slander.

Othe. Bid her come hither: go.
Exit Emilia.

She faies enough : yet ſhe's a ſimple Baud
That cannot ſay as much. This is a flubtille Whore.

A Cloſſet Lockeand Key of Villanous ſecrets,

And yet ſhe le kneele, and pray : I haue ſeene her do't.

Enter Defdemona, and Emilia.

Def. My Lord, what is your will?

Othe. Pray you Chucke come hither.

Def. What is your pleasure?

Oth. Let me fee your eyes: looke in my face.

Def. What horrible Fancie's this?

Othe. Some of your Funètio u Miftris?

Leave Procreants alone, and (hu t the doorre):

Cough, or cry hem; if any bod ycome :

Your Mуſtery, your Mуſtery: May diſpatch Exit Emi.

Def. Upon my knee, what doth your ſpeech import?

I vnderstand a Fury in your words.

Othe. Why? What art thou?

Def. Your wife my Lord: your true and loyall wife.

Othello. Come ſware it : damne thy ſelfe, leaſt
being like one of Heauen, the diuells ſelues ſhould
ſeare to ceaze thee. Therefore be double damn'd: ſware
thou art honest.

Def. Heauen doth truely know it.

Othe. Heauen truely knowes, that thou art ſaſſe as hell.

Def. To whom my Lord?

With whom? How am I ſaſſe?

Othe. Ah Defdemona, away, away, away.

Def. Alas the heavy day: why do you weepe?

Am I the motive of theſe reares my Lord?

If hapfully you my Father do ſuſpect,

An Inſtrument of this your calling backe,

Lay not your blame on me: if you haue loſt him,
I haue loſt him too.

Othe. Had t pleas'd Heauen,

To try me with Affliction, had they rain'd

All kind of Sores, and Shames on my bare-heads

Steep'd me in pouertie to the very lippes,

Guen to Captiuitie, me, and my vtmoſt hopes,

I should haue found in ſome place of my Soule

A drop of patience. But alas, to make me

The fixed Figure for the time of Scorne,

To point his flow, and mouing finger at.

Yet could I beare that too, well, very well :

But there where I haue garnerd vp my heart,

Where either I muſt liue, or beare no life,

The Fountaine from the which my currell runnes,

Or eſſe dries vp : to be diſcarded thence,

Or keepe it as a Ceſſterne, for ſoule Toades

To knot and gender in. Turne thy complexion there :

Patience, thou young and Rofe-lip'd Cherubin,

I heere looke grim as hell.

Def. I hope my Noble Lord eſteemes me honest,

Othe. Oh I, as Sommer Flyes are in the Shambles,

That quicken euen with blowing. Oh thou weed :

Who art ſo louely faire, and ſmell it ſo ſweete,

That the Senſeakes at thee,

Would thou had it neuer bin borne.

Def. Alas, what ignorant fin haue I committed?

Othe. Was this faire Paper ? This moſt goodly Booke

Made to write Whore vpon? What committed,

v v 2

Com.

The Tragedie of Othello

332

Committed? Oh, thou publicke Commoner,
I should make very Forges of my cheekes,
That would to Cynders burne vp Modeſtie,
Did I but ſpeake thy deedes. What commited?
Heauen floppes the Nofe at it, and the Moone winks :
The baudy winde that kiffes all it meetes,
Is huſh'd within the hollow Myne of Earth
And will not hear't? What commited?

Def. By Heauen you do me wrong.

Othe. Are not you a Strumpet?

Def. No, as I am a Christian,
If to preferue this veſſell for my Lord,
From any other foule vnlawfull touch
Be not to be a Strumpet; I am none.

Othe. What, not a Whore?

Def. No, as I shall be ſau'd.

Othe. Is't possible?

Def. Oh Heauen forgiue vs.

Othe. I cry you mercy then.

I tooke you for that cunning Whore of Venice,
That married with Othello. You Mistris,

Enter Œmilia.

That haue the office oppoſite to Saint Peter,
And keepes the gate of hell. You, you: I you.

We haue done our courſe: there's money for your paines:
I pray you turne the key, and keepe our counſaile. Exit.

Æmil. Alas, what do's this Gentleman conceiue?

How do you Madam ? how do you my good Lady?

Def. Faith, halſe a ſleepe.

Æmi. Good Madam,

What's the matter with my Lord?

Def. With who?

Æmil. Why, with my Lord, Madam?

Def. Who is thy Lord?

Æmil. He that is yours, I, ſweet Lady.

Def. I haue none: do not talke to me, Æmilia,

I cannot weepe : nor anſweres haue I none,
But what ſhould go by water. Prythe to night,
Lay on my bed, my wedding ſheeteſ, remember,
And call thy husband hither.

Æmil. Heere's a change indeed.

Exit.

Def. 'Tis meete I should be vs'd ſo: very meete.

How haue I bin behau'd, that he might ſticke

The ſmall ſt opinion on my leaſt miſſe?

Enter Iago, and Æmilia.

Iago. What is your pleasure Madam?

How is't with you?

Def. I cannot tell: thate that do teach yong Babes

Do it with gentle meanes, and eafeſt taskes.

He might haue chid me ſo: for in good faith
I am a Child to chiding.

Iago. What is the matter Lady?

Æmil. Alas (Iago) my Lord hath ſo behuor'd her,
Throwne ſuch diſpight, and heauy termes vpon her
That true heart's cannot beate it.

Def. Am I that name, Iago?

Iago. What name (faire Lady)?

Def. Such as he ſaid my Lord did ſay I was.

Æmil. He call'd her whole: a Begger in his drinke:

Could not haue laid ſuch termes vpon his Callet.

Iago. Why did he ſo?

Def. I do not know: I am ſure I am none ſuch.

Iago. Do not weepe, do not weepe: alas the day.

Æmil. Hath the forſooke ſo many Noble Matches?

Her Father? And her Country? And her Friends?

To be call'd Whore? Would it not make one weepe?

Def. It is my wretched Fortune.

Iago. Befrewed him for't.

How comes this Tricke vpon him?

Def. Nay, Heauen doth know.

Æmi. I will be hang'd, if some eternall Villaine,
Some buſe and infinuating Rogue,
Some cogging, cozening Slane, to get some Office,

Hae not deuis'd this Slander: I will be hang'd ſelle.

Iago. Fie, there is no ſuch man: it is impoffible.

Def. If any ſuch there be, Heauen pardon him.

Æmil. A halter pardon him:

A nd hell gnaw his bones.

Why should he call her Whore?

Who keepes her companie?

What Place? What Time?

What Forme? What likelyhood?

The Moore's abus'd by some moſt villanous Knaue,

Some baſe notorious Knaue, some ſeuruy Fellow.

Oh Heauens, that ſuch companions thou'd ſt vnfold,
And put in euery honeſt hand a whip

To wſh the Raſcalls naked through the world,
Euen from the Eaſt to th' West.

Iago. Speake within door.

Æmil. Oh ſie vpon them: some ſuch Squire he was
That turn'd your wit, the ſeamy ſide without,
And made you to ſuſpect me with the Moore.

Iago. You are a Foole: go too.

Def. Alas, Iago,

What ſhall I do to win my Lord againe?

Good Friend, go to him: for by this light of Heauen,
I know not how I loſt him. Heere I kneele:

If ere my will did trefpasse 'gainſt his Loue,
Either in diſcourſe of thought, or a ſtuall deed,
Or that mine Eyes, mine Eares, or any Sence
Delighted them: or any other Forme.

Or that I do not yet, and euer did,
And euer will, (though he do ſhake me off
To beggerly diuorcement) Loue him deerely,
Comfort ſorſware me. Vnkindneſſe may do much,
And his vnkindneſſe may defeat my life,
But neuer taynt my Loue. I cannot ſay Whore,
It do's abhorre me now I ſpeake the word,
To do the Act, that might the addition earne,
Not the worlds Maſſe of vanitie could make me.

Iago. I pray you be content: 'tis but his humour:

The buſiſſe of the State do's him offence.

Def. If 'twere no other.

Iago. It is but ſo, Iwarrant,

Hearke how theſe Inſtruments ſummon to ſupper:
The Meſſengers of Venice ſties the meate,

Go in, and weepe not: all things shall be well.

Exeunt Defdemona and Æmilia.

Enter Rodorigo.

How now Rodorigo?

Rod. I do not ſinde

That thou deal'st iſt iuſtly with me.

Iago. What in the contrarie?

Rodorig. Every day thou daſts me with ſome deuife
Iago, and rather, as it ſeemes to me now, keep it ſt from
me all conueniencie, then ſupplied me with the leaſt ad-
uantage of hope: I will indeed no longer endure it. Nor
am I yet perſwaded to put vp in peace, what already I
have foolishly ſuſſed.

Iago. Will you heare me Rodorigo?

Rodorig. I.

The Tragedie of Othello

334

So get thee gone, good night: mine eyes do itch:
Doth that boade weeping?

Æmil. 'Tis neyther heere, nor there:

Def. I haue heard it said so. O thefe Men, thefe men!

Do't thou in conscience thinke (tell me Æmilia)

That there be women do abuse their husbands
In such groſſe kinde?

Æmil. There be some such, no question.

Def. Would't thou do such a deed for all the world?

Æmil. Why, would not you?

Def. No, by this Heauenly light.

Æmil. Nor I neither, by this Heauenly light:

I might doot as well i'th'darke.

Æmil. The world's a huge thing:

It is a great price, for a small vice.

Def. Introth, I thinke thou would't not.

Æmil. Introth I thinke I should, and vndoo't when
I had done. Marry, I would not doe such a thing for a
ioynt Ring, nor for meaſures of Lawne, nor for Gownes,
Petticoats, nor Caps, nor any petty exhibition. But for
all the whole world: why, who would not make her hus-
banda Cuckold, to make him a Monarch? I should ven-
ture Purgatory for't.

Def. Befhrew me, if I would do such a wrong

For the whole world.

Æmil. Why, the wrong is but a wrong i'th'world;
and hauing the world for your labour, 'tis a wrong in
your owne world, and you might quickly make it right.

Def. I do not thinke there is any such woman.

Æmil. Yes, a dozen: and as many to'ch'dantage, as
would fore the world they plaid for.

But I do thinke it is their Husbands faultes

If Wines do fall: (Say, that they flacke their duties,
And powre our Treasures into forraigne laps;
Or elle breake out in peeuilh Icalouſes,
Throwing restraint vpon vs: Or ſay they strike vs,
Or ſcant our former hauing in deſpight)

Why we haue galles: and though we haue some Grace,
Yet haue we ſome Reuenge. Let Husbands know,
Their wines haue ſenſe like them: They ſee, and ſmell,
And haue their Palats both for ſweet, and ſowre,
As Husbands haue. What is it that they do,
When they change vs for others? Is it Sport?
I thinke it is: and doth Aſſection breed it?
I thinke it doth. Is't Frailty that thus erres?
It is ſo too. And haue not we Aſſections?
Deſires for Sport? and Frailty, as men haue?
Then let them vſe vs well: eſſe let them know,
The illes we do, their illes inſtruct vs to.

Def. Good night, good night:

Heauen me ſuch vſes ſend,

Not to picke bad, from bad; but by bad, mend. Exennt

Actus Quintus.

Scena Prima.

Enter Iago, and Rodorigo.

Iago. Heere, I stand behinde this Barke,
Straight will he come:

Weare thy good Rapier bare, and put it home:

Quicke, quicke, feare nothing; Ile be at thy Elbow,

It makes vs, or it marres vs, thinke on that,

And fixe moſt firme thy Reſolution.

Rod. Be neere at hand, I may miſcarry in't.

Iago. Heere, at thy hand: Be bold, & take thy ſland.

Rod. I haue no great deuotion to the deed,

And yet he hath giuen me ſatisfying Reaſons:

'Tis but a man gone. Forth my Sword: he dies.

Iago. I haue rub'd this yong Quat almost to the ſenſe,
And he growes angry. Now, whether he kill Caffio,
Or Caffio him, or each do kill the other,

Every way makes my gaine. Liue Rodorigo,

He calles me to a reſtitution large

Of Gold, and Iewels, that I bob'd from him,

As Guifts to Desdemona.

It muſt not be: if Caffio do remaine,

He hath a dayly beauty in his life,

That makes me vgly: and beſides, the Moore

May vnfold me to him: there ſtand I in much perill:

No, he muſt dye. But so, I heard him comming.

Enter Caffio.

Rod. I know his gate, 'tis he: Villaine thou dyſe.

Caff. That thrust had beene mine enemey indeed,
But that my Coate is better then thou know'st:
I will make proofe of thine.

Rod. Oh, I am flaine.

Caffio. I am maym'd for euer:

Helpe hoa: Murther, murther.

Enter Othello.

Oth. The voyce of Caffio, Iago keepeſ his word.

Rod. O Villaine that I am.

Oth. It is euen to.

Caff. Oh helpe hoa: Light, a Surgeon.

Oth. 'Tis he: O braue Iago, honest, and juſt,

That haſt such Noble ſenſe of thy Friends wrong,

Thou teacheſt me. Minion, your deere lyes dead,

And your vnbleſt Fate highes: Strumpet I come:

For of my heart, that ſome Charmes thine Eyes, are blotted.

Thy Bed luſt-stain'd, shall with Luſts blood bee ſpotted.

Exet Othello.

Enter Lodovico and Gratiano.

Caff. What hoa? no Watch? No paſſage?

Murther, Murther.

Gra. 'Tis ſome miſchance, the voyce is very direfull.

Caff. Oh helpe.

Lodo. Hearke.

Rod. Oh wretched Villaine.

Lod. Two or three groane. 'Tis heauy night;

Theſe may be counterfeits: Let's think't vnſaſe.

To come into the cry, without more helpe.

Rod. Nobody come: then ſhall I bleed to death.

Enter Iago.

Lod. Hearke.

Gra. Here's one comes in his ſhirt, with Light, and
Weapons.

Weapons.

Iago. Who's there?

Who's noyſe is this that cries on murther?

Lodo. We do not know.

Iago. Do not you heare a cry?

Caff. Heere, heere: for heauen ſake helpe me.

Iago. What's the matter?

Gra. This is Othello's Ancient, as I take it.

Lodo. The ſame indeede, a very valiant Fellow.

Iago. What are you heere, that cry so greenouſly?

Caff. Iago? Oh I am ſpoſy'd, vndone by Villaines.

Giue me ſome helpe.

Iago. O mee, Lieutenant!

What Villaines haue done this?

Caff. I thinke that one of them is heereabout,

And

the More of Venice.

And cannot make away,

Iago. Oh treacherous Villaines :

What are you there? Come in, and giue some helpe.

Rod. O helpe me there.

Caffio. That's one of them.

Iago. Oh mard'tous Slauë! O Villaine !

Rod. O damn'd Iago ! O inhumane Dogge !

Iago. Kill men i'th'darke?

Where be these bloody Theeues ?

How silent is this Towne ? Hoa, murther, murther.

What may you be? Are you of good, or euill ?

Lod. As you shall proue vs, prauile vs.

Iago. Signior Lodonico ?

Lod. He Sir.

Iago. I cry you mercy : here's Caffio hurt by Villaines.

Gra. Caffio?

Iago. How is't Brother?

Caf. My Legge is cut in two.

Iago. Marry heauen forbid :

Light Gentlemen, He binde it with my shirt.

Enter Bianca.

Bian. What is the matter hoa? Who is't that cry'd?

Iago. Who is't that cry'd?

Bian. Oh my deere Caffio,

My sweet Caffio : Oh Caffio, Caffio, Caffio.

Iago. O notable Strumpert. Caffio, may you sufpect

Who they should be, that haue thus mangled you ?

Caf. No.

Gra. I am sorry to finde you thus;

I have beene to seeke you.

Iago. Lend me a Garter. So:—Oh for a Chaire

To beare him easily hence.

Bian. Alas he faints. Oh Caffio, Caffio, Caffio.

Iago. Gentlemen all, I do sufpect this Traſh

To be a party in this Iniurie.

Patience awhile, good Caffio. Come, come ;

Lend me a Light : know we this face, or no ?

Alas my Friend, and my deere Countryman

Rodorigo? No : Yes fure : Yes, 'tis Rodorigo.

Gra. What, of Venice ?

Iago. Euen he Sir : Did you know him ?

Gra. Know him ? I.

Iago. Signior Gratiano ? I cry your gentle pardon :

These bloody accidents must excuse my Manners,

That fo neglected you.

Gra. I am glad to see you.

Iago. How do you Caffio? Oh, a Chaire, a Chaire.

Cra. Rodorigo?

Iago. He, he, 'tis he :

Oh that's well faid, the Chaire.

Some good man beare him carefully from hence,

Ile fetch the Generall's Surgeon. For you Miftris,

Sane you your labour. He that lies flaine heere (Caffio)

Was my deere friend. What malice was between you ?

Caf. None in the world : nor do I know the man ?

Iago. What? looke you pale? Oh beare him o'th'Ayrro.

Stay you good Gentlemen. Looke you pale, Miftris?

Do you perceive the gaffneſſe of her eye?

Nay, if you ſtare, we ſhall heare more anon.

Behold her well : I pray you looke vpon her :

Do you ſee Gentlemen ? Nay, guiltineſſe will ſpeake

Though tongues were out of vfe.

Bian. Alas, what is the matter?

What is the matter, Husband ?

Iago. Caffio hath heere bin fer on in the darke

By Rodorigo, and Fellowes that are ſcap'd :

He's almost ſlaine, and Rodorigo quite dead.

Bian. Alas good Gentleman : alas good Caffio.

Iago. This is the fruits of whoring. Prythe, Aemilia,
Go know of Caffio where he ſupt to night.

What, do you ſake at that ?

Bian. He ſupt at my house, but I therefore ſake not.

Iago. O did he ſo? I charge you go with me.

Bian. Oh ſie vpon thee Strumper.

Bian. I am no Strumper, but of life as honest,
As you that thus abuse me.

Bian. As ? Fie vpon thee.

Iago. Keinde Gentlemen :

Let's go see poore Caffio drest.

Come Miftris, you muſt tel's another Tale.

Aemilia, run you to the Cittadell,

And tell my Lord and Lady, what hath happe'd :

Will you go on afore ? This is the night

That either makes me, or foredoes me quight.

Exeunt

## Scæna Secunda.

Enter Othello, and Desdemona in her bed.

Oth. It is the Caufe, it is the Caufe (my Soule)

Let men not name it to you, you chaſte Starres,

It is the Caufe. Yet I fle not ſhed her blood,

Nor ſcarre that whiter skin of hers, then Snow,

And smooth as Monumentall Alablaſter :

Yet the muſt dye, eſſe ſee? betray more men :

Put out the Light, and then put out the Light :

If I quench thee, thou flaming Mifnifter,

I can againe thy former light reſtore,

Should I repent me. But once put out thy Light,

Thou cuauing'ſt Patteine of excelling Nature,

I know not where is that Prometheans heate

That can thy Light re-Lume.

When I haue pluck'd thy Rove,

I cannot giue it vitall growth againe,

It needs muſt wither. He ſmelt thee on the Tree.

Oh Balmy breath, that doſt almost perfuade

Iuſtice to breake her Sword. One more, one more :

Be thus when thou art dead, and I will kill thee,

And loue thee after. One more, and that's the last.

So ſweet, was ne're so ſo fall. I muſt weepe,

But they are cruell Teares : This ſorrow's heauenly,

It strikes, where it doth loue. She wakes.

Def. Who's there? Othello?

Othel. I Desdemona.

Def. Will you come to bed, my Lord?

Oth. Haue you pray'd to night, Desdemona?

Def. I my Lord.

Oth. If you bethinke your ſelfe of any Crime

Vnreconcil'd as yet to Heauen, and Grace,

Solicite for it ſtraight.

Def. Alacke, my Lord,

What may you mane by that?

Oth. Well, do it, and be breeſe, I will walke by :

I would not kill thy vnprepared Spirit,

No, Heauens fore-fend ) I would not kill thy Soule.

Def. Talke you of killing ?

Oth. I, I do.

Def. Then Heauen haue mercy on me.

Oth.

The Tragedie of Othello

336

Oth. Amen, with all my heart.
Def. If you say, I hope you will not kill me.
Oth. Humb.
Def. And yet I feare you : for you're fatall then
When your eyes rowle so.
Why I should feare, I know not,
Since guiltinesse I know not : But yet I feele I feare.

Oth. Thinke on thy finnes.
Def. They are Loues I beare to you.
Oth. I, and for that thou dy'ft.
Def. That death's vnnaturall, that kils for louing.
Alas, why gnaw you so your nether-lip?

Oth. Peace, and be still.
Def. I will so : What's the matter ?
Oth. That Handkerchiefe
Which I so lou'd, and gaue thee, thou gauf't to Caffio.

Def. No by my Life, and Soule : fend for the man,
And aske him.

Oth. Sweet Soule, take heed, take heed of Periury,
Thou art on thy death-bed.

Def. I, but not yet to dye.

Oth. Prefently.

Therefore confesse thee freely of thy finne :
For to deny each Article with Oath,
Cannot remoue, nor choake the strong Conception
That I do grone withall. Thou art to dye.

Def. O Heauen haue mercy on me.

Oth. I say, Amen.

Def. And haue you mercy too. I neuer did
Offend you in my life : neuer lou'd Caffio,
But with such generall warrantie of Heauen,
As I might loue. I neuer gaue him Token.

Oth. By Heauen I faw my Handkerchiefe in's hand.
O periury'd woman, thou do'st fone my heart,
And makes me call, what I intend to do,
A Murther, which I thought a Sacrifice.
I faw the Handkerchiefe.

Def. He found it then :

I neuer gaue it him : Send, for him hither :
Let him confesse a truth.

Oth. He hath confef't.

Def. What, my Lord?

Oth. That he hath vs'd thee.

Def. How? vnlawfully?

Oth. I.

Def. He will not say so.

Oth. No : his mouth is flopp'd :

Honest Iago hath 'tane order for't.

Def. Oh, my feare interprets. What is he dead ?

Oth. Had all his haires bin bliues, my great Reuence

Had fromacke for them all.

Def. Alas, he is betray'd, and I vudone.

Oth. Out Strumpet : weep'ft thou for him to my face?

Def. O banifh me, my Lord, but kill me not.

Oth. Downe Strumpet.

Def. Kill me to morrow, let me lie to night.

Oth. Nay, if you brine.

Def. But halfe an houre.

Oth. Being done, there is no pawle.

Def. But while I say one prayer.

Oth. It is too late.

Smothers her.

Aemilia at the doore.

Aemil. My Lord, my Lord? What hoa ?

My Lord, my Lord.

Oth. What noise is this? Not dead? not yet quite dead?
I that am cruell, am yet mercifull,
I would not haue thee linger in thy paine?
So, so.

Aemil. within. What hoa? my Lord, my Lord?

Oth. Who's there?

Aemil. Oh good my Lord, I would fpeake a word
with you.

Oth. Yes : 'Tis Aemilia : by and by. Shee's dead.
'Tis like she comes to fpeake of Caffio's death :
The noise was high. Hah, no more moouing?
Still as the Graue. Shall the come in? Wet good ?
I thinke she fitres againe. No, what's beft to do ?
If she come in, shee'l fure fpeake to my wife :
My wife, my wife : what wife ? I have no wife.
Oh infupportable ! Oh heavy houre!
Me thinkes, it should be now a huge Eclipse!
Of Sunne, and Moone; and that th'affrighted Globe
Did yawne at Alteration.

Aemil. I do befeech you
That I may fpeake with you. Oh good my Lord,
Oth. I had forgot thee : oh come in Aemilia.
Soft, by and by, let me the Curtaines draw.
Where art thou? What's the matter with thee now?

Enter Aemilia.

Aemil. Oh my good Lord, yonders foule Murthers
done.

Oth. What? now?

Aemil. But now, my Lord.

Oth. It is the very error of the Moone,
She comes more neerer Earth then she was wont,
And makes men mad.

Aemil. Caffio, my Lord, hath kill'd

A young Venetian, call'd Rodorigo.

Oth. Rodorigo kill'd? and Caffio kill'd?

Aemil. No, Caffio is not kill'd.

Oth. Not Caffio kill'd? Then Murther's out of tune,
And sweet Reuence growes harſh.

Def. O falſely, falſely murder'd.

Aemil. Alas ! what cry is that ?

Oth. That? What?

Aemil. Out, and alas, that was my Ladies voice.
Helpe, helpe hoa, helpe. Oh Ladie fpeake againe,
Sweet Defdemona, oh fweet Miftris, fpeake.

Def. A guiltlesſe death, I dye.

Aemil. Oh who hath done this deed?

Def. No body : I my ſelfe, farewell:
Commend me to my kinde Lord: oh farewell.

Oth. Why, how should ſhe be murdred?

Aemil. Alas : who knowes?

Oth. You heare her ſay her ſelfe, it was not I.

Aemil. She faid so : I muſt needs report the truth.

Oth. She's like a Liar gone to burning hell,
'Twas I that kill'd her.

Aemil. Oh the more Angell ſhe, and you the black-
er Diuell :

Oth. She turn'd to folly : and ſhe was a whore.

Aemil. Thou do'st bely her, and thou art a diuell.

Oth. She was false as water.

Aemil. Thou art rath as fire, to ſay
That ſhe was false. Oh ſhe was heauenly true.

Oth. Caffio did top her: Ask thy husband elfe.

O, I were damn'd beneath all depth in hell:

But that I did proceed vpon iuſt grounds

To this extremity. Thy Husband knew it all.

Aemil.

the Moore of Venice.

337

Emil. My Husband?

Oth. Thy Husband.

Emil. That she was false to Wedlocke?

Oth. I, with Caffio: had she bin true,
If Heauen would make me such another world,
Of one enyre and perfet Chryfolite,
I'd not have fold her for it.

Emil. My Husband?

Oth. I, I was he that told me on her first,
An honest man, as, and hates the Slime.

That flickes on hisky deeds,
My Friend, thy Husband !

Emil. My Husband?

Oth. What needs this utterance, Woman ?
I say, thy Husband.

Emil. O Miftris,

Villany hat made mockes with loue:

My Husband say she was false?

Oth. He, Woman;

I say thy Husband : Do it understand the word ?
My Friend, thy Husband ; honest, honest Iago.

Emil. If he say so, may his pernicious Soule
Not halfe a graine a day: he lies to th' heart,
She was too fond of her most filthy Bargaine.

Oth. Hah.

Emil. Do thy workt:

This cedeed of thine is no more worthy Heauen,
Then thatt was't worthy her.

Oth. Peace, you were beft.

Emil. Thou haft not halfe that powre to do me harm,
As I haue to be hurt. Oh Gull, oh dolt,
As ignorant as durt: thou haft done a deed
(I care not for thy Sword) Ile make thee known,
Though I loft twenty liues. Helpe, helpe, hola, helpe :
The Moore hath kill'd my Miftris. Murther, murther.

Enter Montano, Gratiano, and Iago.

Mon. What is the matter? How now Generall?

Emil. Oh, are you come, Iago : you haue done well,
That men must lay their Musthers on your necke.

Gra. What is the matter?

Emil. Disproue this Villaine, if thou bee't a man :
He fayes, thou told't him that his wife was false :
I know thou did't not : thou'rt not such a Villain.
Speake, for my heart is full.

Iago. I told him what I thought,
And told no more
Then what he found himfelfe was apt, and true.

Emil. But did you euer tell him,

She was false?

Iago. I did.

Emil. You told a Lye an odious damned Lye:
Vpon my Soule, a Lye; a wicked Lye.

Shee falfe with Caffio ?

Did you say with Caffio?

Iago. With Caffio, Miftris?

Go too, charme your tongue.

Emil. I will not charme my Tongue;

I am bound to speake,

My Miftris heere lyes murthered in her bed.

All. Oh Heauens, forefend.

Emil. And your reports haue fet the Murder on.

Othello. Nay Rare not Masters,

It is true indeede.

Gra. 'Tis a strange Truth.

Mont. O monstrous Acte.

Emil. Villany, villany, villany:

I thinke vpon't, I thinke: I fme't: O Villany :
I thought so then: Ile kill my selfe for greeue.
O villany ! villany !

Iago. What, are you mad?

I charge you get you home.

Emil. Good Gentlemen, let me haue leane to speake:
'Tis proper I obey him; but not now:
Perchance Iago, I will ne're go home.

Oth. Oh, oh, oh.

Emil. Nay, lay thee downe, and roare :

For thou haft kill'd the sweeteft innocent,

That ere did lift vp eye.

Oth. Oh she was fowle !

I carfe did know you Vnkle, there lies your Neece,
Whose breath (indeed) these hands haue newly fopp'd:
I know this acte fhewes horrible and grim.

Gra. Poore Desdemon :

I am glad thy Father's dead,
Thy Match was mortall to him: and pure greefe
Shore his old thrived in twaine. Did he liue now,
This fight would make him do a deſperate turne:
Yea, curſe his better Angell from his ſide,
And fall to Reprobance.

Oth. 'Tis pittifull : but yet Iago knowes
That he with Caffio, hath the Act of ſhame,
A thouſand times committed. Caffio confest it,
And he did gratife his amorous workes

With that Recognizance and pledge of Loue,
Which I firſt gaue her: I faw it in his hand :

It was a Handkerchieſe, an Antique Token
My Father gaue my Mother.

Emil. Oh Heauen ! oh heauenly Powres !

Iago. Come, hold your peace.

Emil. 'Twill out, 'twill out. I peace ?

No, I will ſpeake as liberall as the North;
Let Heauen, and Men, and Diuels, let them all,
All, all, crie ſhame against me, yet I ſpeake.

Iago. Be wife, and get you home.

Emil. I will not.

Gra. Fye, your Sword vpon a Woman.

Emil. Oh thou dull Mover,

That Handkerchieſe thou speak'st of
I found by Fortune, and did giue my Husband :

For often, with a ſolemne earneſtneſſe,
(More then indeede belong'd to such a Trifle)

He begg'd of me, to ſteale't.

Iago. Villanous Whore.

Emil. She give it Caffio? No, ala I found it,
And I did giu't my Husband.

Iago. Filth, thou lyeft.

Emil. By Heauen I do not, I do not Gentlemen :
Oh murd'rous Coxcombe, what should such a Foole
Do with so good a wife?

Oth. Are there no ſtones in Heauen,
But what ſerves for the Thunder?

Precious Villaine.

Gra. The woman falles:

Sure he hath kill'd his Wife.

Emil. I, I: oh lay me by my Miftris ſide,

Gra. Hee's gone, but his wife's kill'd.

Mon. 'Tis a notorious Villain: take you this weapon
Which I haue recouer'd from the Moore:
Come guard the doore without, let him not paffe,
But kill him rather. Ile after that fame villaine,
For 'tis a damned Slaue.

Exit.

Oth.

338

The Tragedie of Othello

Oth. I am not valiant neither:
But every Punice whipfer gets my Sword.
But why should Honor out-lie Honesty?
Let it go all.

Æmil. What did thy Song boad Lady?
Hearke, canst thou heare me? I will play the Swan,
And dye in Musicke: Willough, Willough, Willough,
Moore, the was chaste: She lou'd thee, ernell Moore,
So come my Soule to bliffe, as I speake true.
So speaking as I thinke, alas, I dye.

Oth. I haue another weapon in this Chamber,
It was a Sword of Spaine, the Ice brookes temper:
Oh heere it is: Vnkle I muft come forth.

Gra. If thou attempt it, it will cost thee deere;
Thou haft no weapon, and perforce muft suffer.
Oth. Looke in vpon me then, and speake with me.
Or naked as I am I will affault thee.

Gra. What is the matter?

Othel. Behold, I haue a weapon:
A better neuer did it selfe fustaine
Vpon a Soldiers Thigh. I haue feene the day,
That with this little Arme, and this good Sword,
I haue made my way through more impediments
Then twenty times your top. But (oh vaine boait)
Who can controll his Fate? Tis not so now.
Be not affraid, though you do fee me weapon'd:
Heere is my iournies end, heere is my butt
And verie Sea-marke of my vmoft Saile.
Do you go backe dismaid? 'Tis aloft feare:
Man but a Ruff againft Othello's breast,
And he retires. Where should Othello go?
Now: how doft thou looke now? Oh ill-Starr'd wench,
Pale as thy Smocke: when we shall meete at comp't,
This looke of thine will hurle my Soule from Heauen,
And Fiends will ſnatch at it. Cold, cold, my Girl?
Euen like thy Chaſtity. O curſed, curſed Slaue!
Whip me ye Diuels,
From the poſſection of this Heauently fight:
Blow me about in windes, roaſt me in Sulphure,
Wash me in ſteepe-downe gulfes of Liquid fire.
Oh Desdemon! dead Desdemon: dead. Oh,oh!

Enter Lodonico, Caffio, Montano, and Iago,
with Officers.

Lod. Where is this raff, and moſt vnfortunate man?

Oth. That's he that was Othello: heere I am.

Lod. Where is that Viper?

Bring the Villaine forth.

Oth. I look down towards his feet; but that's a Fable,
If that thou bee't a Diuell, I cannot kill thee.
Lod. Wrench his Sword from him.
Iago. I bleed Sir, but not kill'd.
Oibel. I am not ſorry neither, I'd haue thee liue:
For in my ſense, 'tis happineſſe to die.

Lod. Oh thou Othello, that was once so good,
Falne in the practice of a curſed Slaue,
What ſhall be faide to thee.

Oth. Why any thing:
An honourable Murderer, if you will:
For nought I did in hate, but all in Honour.

Lod. This wretch hath part conſeft his Villany:
Did you and he conſent in Caffio's death.
Oth. 1.

Caf. Deere Generall, I neuer gaue you caufe.

Oth. I do beleeue it, and I aske your pardon:
Will you, I pray, demand that demy-Diuell,

Why he hath thus enſnar'd my Soule and Body.

Iag. Demand me nothing: what you know, you know:
From this time forth, I neuer will ſpeake wora.

Lod. What? not to pray?

Gra. Torments will ope your lips.

Oth. Well, thou doſt beſt.

Lod. Sir,

You shall vnderstand what hath beſalne,
(Which, as I thinke, you know not) heree is a Letter
Found in the pocket of the ſlane Roderigo,
And heere another, the one of them imports
The death of Caffio, to be vndertooke.

By Roderigo.

Oth. O Villaine!

Caffio. Moſt Heathenifh, and moſt groſſe.

Lod. Now, heere's another discontented paper
Found in his pocket too: and this it ſeemes
Roderigo meant t'haue ſent this damned villaine:

But that (belike) Iago in the interim
Came in, and faſt ſid him.

Oth. Oh thou pernicious Caitiffe:
How came you (Caffio) by that Handkerchieſe
That was my wiuſes?

Caffio. I found it in my Chamber:
And he himſelfe conſeſt it but euen now,
That there he dropt it for a ſpeciall purpose,
Which wrought to his defire.

Othel. O Foole, foole, foole!

Caffio. There is beſides, in Roderigo's Letter,
How he vpbraides Iago, that he made him
Braue me vpon the Watch: whereon it came
That I was caſt: and euen but now he ſpake
(After long ſeeming dead) Iago hurt him,
Iago ſet him on.

Lod. You muſt forſake this roome, and go with us:
Your Power, and your Command is taken off,
And Caffio rules in Cyprus. For this Slaue,
If there be any cunning Cruelie,
That can torment him much, and hold him long,
It ſhall be his. You ſhall cloſe Prisoner reſt,
Till that the Nature of your fault be knowne
To the Venetian State. Come, bring away.

Oth. Soft you; a word or two before you goe:
I haue done the State ſome ſeruice, and they know't:
No more of that. I pray you in your Letters,
When you ſhall theſe vnluckie deeds relate,
Speake of me, as I am. Nothing extenuate,
Nor ſet downe ought in malice.

Then muſt you ſpake,
Of one that lou'd not wifely, but too well:
Of one, not easily Iealous, but being wrought,
Perplexed in the extreame: Of one, whole hand
(Like the bafe Iudean) threw a Pearle away
Richer then all his Tribe: Of one, whole ſubdu'd Eyes,
Albeit vnſed to the melting moode,
Drops teares as faſt as the Arabian Trees
Their Medicinable gumme. Set you downe this:
And ſay beſides, that in Aleppo once,
Where a malignant, and a Turbond-Turke
Beate a Venetian, and traduc'd the State,
I tooke by th'throat the circumcifed Dogge,
And ſmoate him, thus.

Lod. Oh bloody period.

Gra. All that is ſpoke, is marr'd.

Oth. I kifſe thee, ere I kill'd thee: No way but this,
Killing my ſelſe, to dye vpon a kiffie.
Dyest
Caffio.

the *Moore of Venice.*

Caf. This did I feare, but thought he had no weapon:
For he was great of heart.

Lod. Oh, Spanton Dogge:

More fell then Anguilla, Hunger, or the Sea.

Looke on the Tragicke Loading of this bed:

This is thy worke:

The Object poysons Sight,

Let it be hid. Gratiano, keepe the house,
And seize vpon the Fortunes of the Moore,
For they fucceede on you. To you, Lord Gouernor,
Remaines th e Cenfure of this hellifh villaine:

The Time, the Place, the Torture, oh inforce it :

My selfe will ftraight aboard, and to the State,

This heauie Act, with heauie heart relate.

Exeunt.

FINIS.

The Names of the Actors.

(: * * * :)

Thello, the Moore.

Brabantio, Father to Defdemona.

Caffio, an Hepourable Lieutenant.

Iago, a Villaine.

Rodorigo, a gull'd Gentleman.

Duke of Venice.

Senators.

Montano, Gouernour of Cyprus.

Gentlemen of Cyprus.

Lodouico, and Gratiano, two Noble Venetians.

Saylors.

Clowne.

Defdemona, wife to Othello.

Æmilia, wife to Iago.

Bianca, a Curtezan.

34°

THE TRAGE DIE OF
Anthonie, and Cleopatra.

Actus Primus. Scæna Prima.

Enter Demetrius and Philo.

Philo.

Ay, but this dotage of our Generals
Ore-flowes the meaſure: thofe his goodly eyes
That o're the Files and Muſters of the Warre,
Hauë glow'd like plated Mars :

Now bend, now turne
The Office and Deuotion of their view
Vpon a Tawny Front. His Captaines heart,
Which in the ſcuffles of great Fights hath burſt
The Buckles on his breſt, reneages all temper,
And is become the Bellowes and the Fan
To coole a Gypſes Luft.

Flourish.
Enter Anthony, Cleopatra, her Ladies, the
Traine, with Eunuchs fanning her.

Looke where they come :
Take but good note, and you ſhall ſee in him
(The triple Pillar of the world) transform'd
Into a Strumpets Foole. Behold and ſee.

Cleo. If it be Loue indeed, tell me how much.

Ant. There's beggery in the loue that can be reckon'd.

Cleo. Ile ſet a bourne how farre to be belou'd.

Ant. Then muſt thou needes finde out new Heauer,
new Earth.

Enter a Meſſenger.

Alef. Newes(my good Lord) from Rome.

Ant. Grates me, the ſumme.

Cleo. Nay heare them Anthony.

Fuluaia perchance is angry: Or who knowes,
If the ſcarſe-bearded Caſar haue not ſent

His powrefull Mandate to you, Do this, or this;
Take in that Kingdome, and Infranchife that :

Perform't, or eſſe we damne thee.

Ant. How, my Love?

Cleo. Perchance? Nay, and moſt like :

You muſt not ſay heere longer, your dismiffion
Is come from Caſar, therefore heare it Anthony.

Where's Fuluaia Proceſſe? (Caſars I would ſay) both ?
Call in the Meſſengers : As I am Egypts Queene,
Thou bluſhed Anthony, and that blood of thine

Is Caſars homager : eſſe to thy checke payes ſhame,
When thrill-tongu'd Fuluaia ſcolds. The Meſſengers.

Ant. Let Rome in Tyber melt, and the wide Arch
Of the raing'd Empire fall: Heere is my ſpace,
Kingdomes are clay: Our dungie earth alike

Feeds Beaſt as Man; the Noblenſe of life
Is to do thus: when ſuch a mutuall paire,
And ſuch a twaine can doo't, in which I binde
One paine of puniſhment, the world so weete
We stand vp Peereleſſe.

Cleo. Excellent falſhood :

Why did he marry Fuluaia, and not loue her?

Ile ſeeme the Foole I am not. Anthony will be himſelfe.

Ant. But flir'd by Cleopatra.

Now for the loue of Loue, and her ſoft hours,
Let's not confound the time with Conference harsely.

There's not a minute of our liues ſhould ſtretch
Without ſome pleaſure now. What ſport to vs?

Cleo. Heare the Ambaſſadors.

Ant. Fye wrangling Queene :

Whom euery thing becomes, to chide, to laugh,
To weepe: who euery paffion fully ſluiues
To make it ſelfe (in Thee) ſaife, and admir'd.

No Meſſenger but thine, and all alone, to night
Wee'l wander through the freets, and note

The qualities of people. Come my Queene,
Laſt night you did define it. Speake not to vs.

Exeunt with the Traine.

Dem. Is Caſar with Anthonies priz'd ſo flight ?

Philo. Sir, ſometimes when he is not Anthony,

He comes too ſhort of that great Property
Which ſtill ſhould go with Anthony.

Dem. I am full ſorry, that hee approues the common
Lyar, who thus ſpeakes of him at Rome; but I will hope
of better deeds to morrow. Reſt you happy.

Enter Enobarbus, Lampria, a Southſayer, Ranniu, Lucillius, Charmian, Ira, Mardian the Eunuch, and Alexas.

Char. L. Alexas, ſweet Alexas, moſt any thing Alexas,
almoſt moſt abſolute Alexas, where's the Soothſayer
that you prais'd ſo to th' Queene ? Oh that I knewe this
Husband, which you ſay, muſt change his Hornes with
Garlands.

Alex. Soothſayer.

Sooth. Your will?

Char. Is this the Man ? Is't you fir that know things?

Sooth. In Natures infinite booke of Secrecie, a little I
can read.

Alex. Shew him your hand,

Enob. Bring in the Banket quickly: Wine enough,
Cleopa

Anthony and Cleopatra.

341

Cleopatra's health to drinke.

Char. Good fir, giue me good Fortune.

Sooth. I make not, but forefee.

Char. Pray then, forefee me one.

Sooth. You shall be yet farre fairer then you are.

Char. He meanes in flesh.

Iras. No,you shall paint when you are old.

Char. Wrinkles forbid.

Alex. Vex not his prefcience, be attentie.

Char. Hufh.

Sooth. You shall be more belouing, then beloved.

Char. I had rather heate my Liuer with drinking.

Alex. Nay,heare him.

Char. Good now fome excellent Fortune : Let mee be married to three Kings in a forenoone, and Widdow them all : Let me haue a Childe at fifty, to whom Herode of Iewry may do Homage. Finde me to marrie me with Oiſanius Cæsar, and companion me with my Miftres.

Sooth. You shall out-lie the Lady whom you ferue.

Char. Oh excellent, I loue long life better then Figs.

Sooth. You haue ſene and proued a fairer former for- tume, then that which is to approach.

Char. Then belike my Children ſhi. I haue no names: Prythee how many Boyes and Wenches muſt I haue.

Sooth. If euery of your wifhes had a wombe, & fore- tell euery wifh, a Million.

Char. Out Foole, I forgiue thee for a Witch.

Alex. You thinke none but your ſheets are priuie to your wifhes.

Char. Nay come, tell Iras hers.

Alex. Weel' know all our Fortunes.

Enob. Mine, and moſt of our Fortunes to night, ſhall be drunke to bed.

Iras. There's a Palme prefages Chaſtity, if nothing els.

Char. Ene as the o're-flowing Nylus prefageth Fa- mine.

Iras. Go you wilde Bedfellow, you cannot Soothſay.

Char. Nay, if an oyly Palme bee not a fruitfull Prog- noſtication, I cannot scratch mine eare. Prythee tel her but a worky day Fortune,

Sooth. Your Fortunes are alike.

Iras. But how, but how, giue me particulars.

Sooth. I haue faid.

Iras. Am I not an inch of Fortune better then ſhe?

Char. Well, if you were but an inch of fortune better then I: where would you choofe it,

Iras. Not in my Husbands noſe.

Char. Our worſer thoughts Heauens mend.

Alexas. Come, his Fortune, his Fortune. Oh let him mary a woman that cannot go, ſweet Iſis, I beſeech thee, and let her dye too, and giue him a worſe, and let worſe follow worſe, till the worſt of all follow him laughing to his graue, fifty-fold a Cuckold. Good Iſis heare me this Prayer, though thou denie me a matter of more waight : good Iſis I beſeech thee.

Iras. Amen, deere Goddeſſe, heare that prayer of the people. For, as it is a heart-breaking to ſee a handſome man looſe- Wiu'd, ſo it is a deadly ſorrow, to beholde a foule Knaue vncockold : Therefore deere Iſis keep da- corum, and Fortune him accordingly.

Char. Amen.

Alex. Lo now, if it lay in their hands to make me a Cuckold, they would make themſelues Whores, but they'd doot.

Enter Cleopatra.

Enob. Hufh, heere comes Anthony.

Char. Not he, the Queene.

Cleo. Saue you, my Lord.

Enob. No Lady.

Cleo. Was he not heere?

Char. No Madam.

Cleo. He was diſpos'd to mirth, but on the ſodaine A Romane thought hath fltooke him. Enobarbus ?

Enob. Madam.

Cleo. Seeke him, and bring him hicher: where's Alexias?

Alex. Heere at your ſeruice.

My Lord approaches.

Enter Anthony, with a Messenger.

Cleo. We will not looke vpon him :

Go with vs.

Exeunt.

Meffen. Fuluiat thy Wife,

First came into the Field.

Ant. Againſt my Brother Lucius?

Meffen. I : but foone that Warre had end,

And the times ſtare

Made friends of them, ſo ynting their force 'gainſt Cæsar,

Whoſe better ifſue in the warre from Italy,

Vpon the firſt encounter draue them.

Ant. Well, what workt.

Mef. The Nature of bad newes inſects the Teller.

Ant. When it concernes the Foole or Coward: On.

Things that are paſt, are done, with me. 'Tis thus,

Who tells me true, though in his Tale lye death, I heare him as he flatter'd.

Mef. Labienus (this is ſtiffe-newes)

Hath with his Parthian Force

Extended Aſia: from Euphrates his conquering

Banner ſhooke, from Syria to Lydia,

And to Ionia, whil't

Ant. Anthony thou would't ſay.

Mef. Oh my Lord.

Ant. Speake to me home,

Mince not the generall tongue, name

Cleopatra as ſhe is called' in Rome:

Raile thou in Fuluias' phraſe, and taunt my ſaults

With ſuch full Licenſe, as both Truth and Malice

Hauſe power to vtter. Oh then we bring forth weeds,

When our quicke windes lye ſtill, and our illes told vs

Is as our earing: ſare thee well awhile.

Mef. At your Noble pleasur.

Exit Messenger.

Enter another Messenger.

Ant. From ſcicion how the newes ? Speake there.

1. Mef. The man from ſcicion,

Is there ſuch an one?

2. Mef. He ſtayes vpon your will.

Ant. Let him appeare:

Theſe strong Egyptian Fetters I muſt breake,

Or looke my ſelfe in dotage.

Enter another Messenger with a Letter.

What are you?

3. Mef. Fuluiat thy wife is dead.

Ant. Where dyed ſhe.

Mef. In ſcicion, her length of ſickneſſe,

With what eſſe more ſerious,

Imorteth thee to know, this beares,

Anthe. Forbeare me

There's a great Spirit gone, thus I did I define it:

What our contempts doth often hurle from vs,

X

W

c

The Tragedie of

342

We with it ours againe. The present pleasure,
By revolution lowring, does become
The opposite of itself: she's good being gon,
The hand could plucke her backe, that should her on.
I must from this enchanting Queene breake off,
Ten thouand harmes, more then the illes I know
My idlenesse doth hatch.

Enter Enobarbus.

How now Enobarbus.

Eno. What's your pleasure, Sir?

Ant. I must with haſte from hence.

Eno. Why then we kill all our Women. We see how mortall an vnkindnesse is to them, if they suffer our departure, death's the word.

Ant. I must be gone.

Eno. Vnder a compelling occasion, let women die. It were pity to cast them away for nothing, though betweene them and a great caufe, they should be esteemed nothing. Cleopatra catching but the least noyse of this, dies instantly: I haue feene her dye twenty times vpon farre poorer moment: I do think there is mettle in death, which commits some louing acte vpon her, she hath such a celenty in dying.

Ant. She is cunning paſt mans thought.

Eno. Alacke Sir no, her passions are made of nothing but the fineſt part of pure Loue. We cannot cal her winds and waters, highe and teares: They are greater ſtormes and Tempeſts then Almanackes can report. This cannot be cunning in her; if it be, she makes a ſhowre of Raine as well as loue.

Ant. Would I had neuer ſeene her.

Eno. Oh fir, you had then left vnſene a wonderful peecie of worke, which not to haue beene bleſt withall, would haue discredited your Trauaile.

Ant. Fulia is dead.

Eno. Sir.

Ant. Fulia is dead.

Eno. Fulia?

Ant. Dead.

Eno. Why fir, giue the Gods a thankefull Sacrifice: when it pleafeth their Deities to take the wife of a man from him, it shewes to man the Tailors of the earth: comforting therein, that when olde Robes are vworne out, there are members to make new. If there were no more Women but Fulia, then had you indeede a cut, and the cafe to be lamented: This greeſe is crown'd with Conſolation, your old Smocke brings foorth a new Petticoate, and indeede the teares lie in an Onion, that should water this ſorrow.

Ant. The buſineſſe she hath broached in the State,
Cannot endure my abſence.

Eno. And the buſineſſe you haue broach'd heere can-
not be without you, eſpecially that of Cleopatra's, which
wholly depends on your abode.

Ant. No more light Anſweres:
Let our Officers

Hauē notice what we purpose. I shall breake
The caufe of our Expedience to the Queene,
And get her loue to part. For not alone
The death of Fulia, with more vrgent touches
Do strongly ſpeake to vs: but the Letters too
Of many our contriving Friends in Rome,
Petition vs at home. Sextus Pompeius
Hauē giuen the dare to Cæsar, and commands
The Empire of the Sea. Our slippery people,
Whofe Loue is neuer link'd to the deſruer,

Till his deferts are paſt, begin to throw
Pompey the great, and all his Dignities
Vpon his Sonne, who high in Name and Power,
Higher then both in Blood and Life, stands vp
For the maine Souldier. Whofe quality going on,
The ſides o'th' world may danger. Much is breeding,
Which like the Courſers heire, hath yet but life,
And not a Serpents poyſon. Say our pleaſure,
To ſuch whole places vnder vs, require
Our quickie remourc from hence.

Enob. I shall doo't.

Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Alexas, and Ira.

Cleo. Where is he?

Char. I did not fee him ſince.

Cleo. See where he is,
Whofe with him, what he does:
I did not ſend you. If you tind him sad,
Say I am dauncing: i'f in Myrth, report
That I am sodaine ſicke. Quicke, and returne.

Char. Madam, me thinkes if you did loue him deerly,
You do not hold the method, to enforce
The like from him.

Cleo. What should I do, I do not ?

Ch. In each thing giue him way, croſſe him in nothing.

Cleo. Thou teacheſt like a foole: the way to leſe him.

Char. Tempt him not to too farre. I with forbeare,
In time we hate that which we often feare.

Enter Anthony.

But heere comes Anthony.

Cleo. I am ſicke, and ſullen.

An. I am forry to giue breathing to my purpofe.

Cleo. Helpe me away deere Charmian, I ſhall fall,
It cannot be thus long, the ſides of Nature
Will not ſuſtaine it.

Ant. Now my deereſt Queene.

Cleo. Pray you ſtand farther ſi on mee.

Ant. What's the matter?

Cleo. I know by that ſame eye ther's ſome good news.
What ſayes the married woman you may goe?
Would ſhe had neuer giuen you leaue to come.
Let her not ſay 'tis I that keepe you heere,
I haue no power vpon you: Hers you are.

Ant. The Gods beſt know.

Cleo. Oh neuer was there Queene
So mightily betrayed: yet at the fitſt
I ſaw the Treſons planted.

Ant. Cleopatra.

Cleo. Why ſhould I thinke you can be mine, & true,
(Though you in ſwearing ſhake the Throaned Gods)
Who haue beene ſalſe to Fulia?

Riotous madneſſe,
To be entangled with thate mouth-made vowes,
Which breake themſelues in ſwearing.

Ant. Moft sweet Queene.

Cleo. Nay pray you ſeeke no colour for your going,
But bid farewell, and goe:
When you ſued staying,
Then was the time for words: No going then,
Eternity was in our Lippes, and Eyes,
Bliffe in our browes bent: none our parts ſo poore,
But was a race of Heauen. They are ſo full,
Or thou the greatest Souloier of the world,
Art turn'd the greatest Lyar.

Ant. How now Lady?

Cleo.

Anthony and Cleopatra.

343

Cleo. I would I had thy inches, thou shouldst not know
There were a heart in Egypt.

Ant. Heare me Queene :

The strong necessity of Time, commands
Our Servicles a while: but my full heart
Remaines in vs with you. Our Italy,
Shines ore with ciuill Swords; Sextia Pompeiis
Makes his approaches to the Port of Rome,
Equality of two Domestickie powers,
Breed scrupulous faction: The hated growne to strength
Are newly growne to Loue: The condemn'd Pompey,
Rich in his Fathers Honor, creepes apace
Into the hearts of such, as haue not thruci'd
Vpon the present state, whose Numbers threaten,
And quiesnesse growne fickle of reft, would purge
By any desperate change: My more particular,
And that which moft with you should safe my going,
Is Fuluias death.

Cleo. Though age from folly could not give me freedom
It does from childishnesse. Can Fuluias dye?

Ant. She's dead my Queene.

Looke heere, and at thy Soueraigne leyure read
The Garboyles she awak'd : at the laft, beft,
See when, and where shee died.

Cleo. O moft falie Loue !

Where be the Sacred Violles thou shouldst it fill
With forrowfull water ? Now I fee, I see,
In Fuluias death, how mine receiu'd shall be.

Ant. Quarrell no more, but bee prepar'd to know
The purposes I beare: which are, or ceafe,
As you shall give th'aduice. By the fire
That quickens Nylus flime. I go from hence
Thy Souldier, Seruant, making Peace or Warre,
As thou affect'st.

Cleo. Cut my Lace, Charmian come,
But let it be, I am quickly ill, and well,
So Anthony loues.

Ant. My precious Queene forbeare,
And giue true evidence to his Loue, which flands
An honourable Triall.

Cleo. So Fuluias told me.

I prythee turne aside, and weepe for her,
Then bid adiew to me, and say the teares
Belong to Egypt. Good now, play one Scene
Of excellent diffembling, and let it looke
Like perfect Honor.

Ant. You'l heat my blood no more?

Cleo. You can do better yet: but this is meetly.

Ant. Now by Sword.

Cleo. And Target. Still he mends.

But this is not the beſt. Looke prythee Charmian,
How this Herculean Roman do's become
The carriage of his chafe.

Ant. Ile leave you Lady.

Cleo. Courteous Lord, one word:

Sir, you and I muſt part, but that's not it:
Sir, you and I haue lou'd, but there's not it:
That you know well, something it is I would :
Oh, my Obliution is a very Anthony,
And I am all forgotten.

Ant. But that your Royalty

Holds Idlenesse your ſubiect, I should take you
For Idlenesse it ſelfe.

Cleo. 'Tis (weating) Labour,
To beare such Idlenesse to neere the heart
As Cleopatra this. But Sir, forgive me,

Since my becommings kill me, when they do not
Eye well to you. Your Honor calles you hence,
Therefore be deafe to my vnpietted Folly,
And all the Gods go with you. Vpon your Sword
Sit Lawrell vifory, and smooth ſucceſſe
Be krew'd before your feete.

Ant. Let vs go.

Cone: Our ſeparation ſo abides and flies,
That thou reciding heere, goes yet with mee,
And I hence fleeting, heere remaine with thee.
Away.
Exeunt.

Enter Ochanius reading a Letter, Lapidus,
and their Traine.

Cef. You may ſee Lepides, and henceforth know,
It is not Cefars Naturall vice, to hate
One great Competitor. From Alexandria
This is the newes: He ſhines, drinks, and waſtes
The Lampes of night in reuell: Is not more manlike
Then Cleopatra : not the Queene of Ptolomy
More Womanly then he. Hardly gaue audience
Or vouchſaſe to thinke he had Partners. You
Shall finde there a man, who is that abſtracts of all ſaults,
That all men follow.

Lep. I muſt not thinke
There are, euilts enow to darken all his goodneſſe:
His ſaults in him, ſeeme as the Spots of Heauen,
More fierie by nights Blackneſſe; Hereditarie,
Rather then purchase: what he cannot change,
Then what he chooſes.

Cef. You are too indulgent. Let's graunt it is not
Amiffie to tumble on the bed of Ptolomy,
To giue a Kingdome for a Mirth, to fit
And keepe the turne of Tipling with a Slaue,
To reele the streets at noone, and land the Buffet
With knaues that ſmels of ſwate: Say this becoms him
(As his compoſure muſt be rare indeed,
Whom theſe things cannot blemiſh) yet muſt Anthony
No way excufe his ſoyleſ, when we do beare
So great waight in his lightneſſe. If he fill'd
His vacancie with his Voluptuouſneſſe,
Full ſurfeſs, and the drinſeſſe of his bones,
Call on him for't. But to confound ſuch time,
That drummes him from his ſport, and ſpeakes as lowd
As his owne State, and ours, 'tis to be chid :
As we rate Boyes, who being mature in knowledge,
Pawne their experience to their preſent pleafure,
And ſo rebell to iudgement.

Enter a Meſſenger.

Lep. Heere's more newes.

Mef. Thy biddings haue beene done, & euerie houre
Moſt Noble Cefar, that thou haue report
How 'tis abroad. Pompey is ſtrong at Sea,
And it appears, he is beſou'd of that
That only haue ſeard Cefar: to the Ports
The diſcontents repair, and mens reports
Giue him much wrong'd.

Cef. I should haue knowne no leſſe,
It hath bin taught vs from the primall ſtate
That he which is was wifht, yntill he were
And the ebb'd man,
Ne're lou'd, till ne're worth loue,
Comes fear'd, by being lack'd. This common bodie,
Like to a Vagabond Flagge vpon the Streame,
Goes too, and backe, lacking the varying tyde

x 2

To

The Tragedie of

344

To rot it selfe with motion.

Mef. *Cafar* I bring thee word,
Menacrates and Menas famous Pyrates
Makes the Sea ferue them, which they eare and wound
With keeles of euery kinde. Many hot introdes
They make in Italy, the Borders Maritime
Lacke blood to thinke on't, and flush youth reuolt,
No Veffell can peepe forth: but 'tis as foone
Taken as feene: for *Pompeses* name strikes more
Then could his Warre refifted.

Cafar. Anthony,
Leaue thy laſciuous Vassailes. When thou once
Was beaten from Medena, where thou flew'ſt
Hirſius, and Panſa Conſuls, at thy heele
Did Famine follow, whom thou fought'ſt againſt,
(Though daintily brought vp) with patience more
Then Sauages could ſuffer. Thou did'ſt drinke
The ſtale of Horſes, and the gilded Puddle
Which Beaſts would cough at. Thy pallat the'd didaine
The rougheſt Berry, on the rudeſt Hedge.
Yea, like the Stagge, when Snow the Paſture sheers,
The barkes of Trees thou brows'd. On the Alpes,
It is reported thou did'ſt eate ſtrange ſlesh,
Which ſome did dye to looke on: And all this
(It wounds thine Honor that I ſpeake it now)
Was borne ſo like a Soldiour, that thy cheeke
So much as lank'd not.

Lep. 'Tis pitty of him.

Caf. Let his ſhames quickly
Driue him to Rome, 'tis time we twaine
Did ſhew our ſelues i'th'Field, and to that end
Aſſemble me immediate counſell, *Pompey*
Thriues in our Idlenſe.

Lep. To morrow *Cafar*,
I ſhall be furniſht to inſorme you rightly
Both what by Sea and Land I can be able
To front this preſent time.

Caf. Til which encounter, it is my busines too. Farwell.

Lep. Farwell my Lord, what you ſhal know mean time
Of tirres abroad, I ſhall beſeech you Sir
To let me be partaker.

Cafar. Doubt not ſit, I knew it for my Bond. Exeunt
Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Iras, & Mar'dian.

Cleo. Charmian.

Char. Madam.

Cleo. Ha, ha, giue me to drinke Mandragorn.

Char. Why Madam ?

Cleo. That I might ſleepe out this great gap of time:
My' Anthony is away.

Char. You thinke of him too much.

Cleo. O'tis Treason.

Char. Madam, I truſt not ſo.

Cleo. Thou, Eunuch *Mardian*?

Mar. What's your Highneſſe pleafure ?

Cleo. Not now to heare thee ſing. I take no pleafure
In ought an Eunuch ha's: Tis well for thee,
That being vnſeminar'd, thy freer thoughts

May not flye forth of Egypt. Haſt thou Aſſections ?

Mar. Yes gracious Madam.

Cleo. Indeed ?

Mar. Not in deed Madam, for I can do nothing
But what in deede is honest to be done :
Yet haue I ſierce Aſſections, and thinke
What Venus did with Mars.

Cleo. Oh Charmion :

Where think'ſt thou he is now? Stands he, or ſits he?

Or does he walke? Or is he on his Horſe ?

Oh happy horſe to beare the weight of Anthony !

Do brauely Horſe, for wot'ſt thou whom thou moon'ſt,
The demy Atlas of this Earth, the Arme
And Burganet of men. Hec's ſpeaking now,
Or murmuring, where's my Serpent of old Nyle,
(For ſo he cals me:) Now I feede my ſelfe
With moſt delicious payſon. Thinke on me
That am with Phœbus amorous pinches blacke,
And wrinkled deepe in time. Broad-fronted *Cafar*,
When thou was't heere aboue the ground, I was
A morſell for a Monarke: and great *Pompey*
Would ſtand and make his eyes grow in my brow,
There would he anchor his Alpeſt, and dye
With looking on his life.

Enter *Alexas from Caſar*.

Alex. Soueraigne of Egypt, haile.

Cleo. How much vnlike art thou Marke Anthony?
Yet comming from him, that great Med'cine hath
With his Tinct gilded thee.

How goes it with my braue Marke Anthonia?

Alex. Laſt thing he did (deere Qu'ene)
He kift the laſt of many doubled kiffes
This Orient Pearle. His ſpeech ſlickes in my heart.

Cleo. Mine care muſt plucke it thence.

Alex. Good Friend, quoth he :

Say the firme Roman to great Egypt ſends
This treaſure of an Oyſter: at whole ſtoote
To mend the petty preſent, I will peeece
Her opulent THRONE, with Kingdomes. All the Eaſt,
(Say thou) ſhall call her Miftres. So he nodded,
And ſoberly did mount an Arme-gaunt Steede,
Who neigh'd ſo hye, that what I would haue ſpoke,
Was beaſtly dumbo by him.

Cleo. What was he ſad, or merry ?

Alex. Like to the time o'th'yeare, between ſ extremes.
Of hot and cold, he was nor ſad, nor merrie.

Cleo. Oh well diuined diſpofition: Note him,
Note him good Charmian, 'tis the man; but note him.
He was not ſad, for he would ſhine on thofe
That make their lookes by his. He was not merrie,
Which ſeem'd to tell them, his remembrance lay
In Egypt with his ioy, but betweene both.
Oh heauenly mingle! Bee'ſt thou ſad, or merrie,
The violence of either thee becomes,
So do's it no mans eſſe. Met'ſt thou my Poſſes ?

Alex. I Madam, twenty ſeverall Mefſengers.
Why do you ſend ſo thicke?

Cleo. Who's borne that day, when I forget to ſend
to Anthonie, ſhall dye a Begger. Inke and paper Char-
mian. Welcome my good *Alexas*. Did I Charmian, e-
uer loue *Cafar* ſo?

Char. Oh that braue *Cafar* !

Cleo. Be choak'd with ſuch another Emphaſis,
Say the braue *Anthony*.

Char. The valiant *Cafar*.

Cleo. By Iſe, I will give thee bloody teeth,
If thou with *Cafar* Parago nagaine :
My man of men.

Char. By your moſt gracious pardon,
I ſing but after you.

Cleo. My ſailad dayes,
When I was greene in iudgement, cold in blood,
To ſay, as I ſaide then. But come, away,
Get me Inke and Paper,

Hee

Anthony and Cleopatra.

345

he shall haue every day a feuerall greeting, or IIe vnepeople Egypt.

Enter Pompey, Menecratez, and Menas, in warlike manner.

Exeunt

Pom. If the great Gods be iust, they shall affront the deeds of iust men.

Mene. Know worthy Pompey, that what they do de-lay, they not deny.

Pom. While we are futuror to their Throno, decayes the thing we fue for.

Mene. We ignorant of our felues, Begge often our owne harmes, which the wife Powres Deny vs for our good: so finde we profit By toofing of our Prayers.

Pom. I shall do well:
The people loue me, and the Sea is mine;
My powers are Creffent, and my Auguring hope
Sayes it will come to'th'full. Marke Anthony
In Egypt fits at dinner, and will make
No warres without doores. Cæsar gets money where
He loofes hearts: Lepidus flatters both,
Of both is flatter'd: but he neither loues,
Nor either cares for him.
Mene. Cæsar and Lepidus are in the field,
A mighty strengthe they carry.
Pom. Where haue you this? 'Tis falle.
Mene. From Silvius, Sir.
Pom. He dreames: I know they are in Rome together
Looking for Anthony: but all the charmes of Loue,
Salt Cleopatra soften thy wand lip,
Let Witchcraft ioyne with Beauty, Luft with both;
Tye vp the Libertine in a field of Peafts,
Keepe his Braine fuming. Epicurean Cookes,
Sharpen with cloyleffe fawce his Appetite,
That fleepe and feeding may prorogue his Honour,
Euen till a Lethid dulneffe —

Enter Varrius.

How now Varrius?

Var. This is moft certaine, that I shall deliuer:
Marke Anthony is every houre in Rome
Expected. Since he went from Egypt, 'tis
Apace for farther Trauaille.

Pom. I could haue giuen leffe matter
A better care. Menas, I did not thinke
This amorous Surfetter would haue donn'd his Helme
For fuch a petty Warre: His Souldiership
Is t vice the other twaine: But let vs reare
The higher our Opinion, that our flirring
Can from the lap of Egypts Widdow, plucke
The neere Luft-wezied Anthony.

Mene. I cannot hope,
Cæsar and Anthony shall well greet together;
His Wife that's dead, did trefpaffe to Cæsar,
His Brother wan'd vpon him, although I thinke
Not mou'd by Anthony.

Pom. I know not Menas,
How leffer Enmiries may giue way to greater,
Were't not that we stand vp against them all:
'Twer pregnant they should square between themfelues,
For they haue entertained caufe enough
To draw their wordes: but how the feare of vs
May Ciment their divifions, and binde vp
The petty difference, we yet not know:
Be't as our Gods will haue't; it onely stands
Our lives vpon, to vie our strongest hands
Come Menas.

Exeunt.

Enter Enobarbus and Lepidus.

Lep. Good Enobarbus, 'tis a wold thy deed,
And shall become you well, to intreat your Captaine
To toft and gentle ſpeech.

Enob. I shall intreat him
To anwer like himselfe: if Cæsar moue him,
Let Anthony looke ouer Cæsar's head,
And ipeake as lowd as Mars. By Jupiter,
Were I the wearer of Anthony's Beard,
I would not haue't to day.

Lep. 'Tis not a time for private flomacking.

Eno. Every time ſerves for the matter that is then borne in't.

Lep. But small to greater matters muft giue way.

Eno. Not if the small come fift.

Lep. Your ſpeech is paffion: but pray you fire
No Embers vp. Here comes the Noble Anthony.

Enter Anthony and Ventidius.

Eno. And yonder Cæsar.

Enter Cæsar, Menecas, and Agrippa.

Aut. If we compoſe well heere, to Parthia:

Hearke Ventidius.

Cæsar. I do not know Menecas, aske Agrippa.

Lep. Noble Friends:

That which combin'd vs was moft great, and let not
A leaner action rend vs. What's amiffc,
May it be gently heard. When we debate
Our triuiall difference loud, we do commit
Murther in healing wounds. Then Noble Partners,
The rather for I earneſtly beſeeth,
Touch you the fowreft points with sweeteſt tearmes,
Nor curſinſe grow to'th'matter.

Ant. 'Tis spoken well:
Were we before our Armies, and to fight,
I should do thus.

Flourife.

Cæs. Welcome to Rome.

Ant. Thanke you.

Cæs. Sit.

Ant. Sit fir.

Cæs. Nay then.

Ant. I leane, you take things ill, which are not so:
Or being, concerne you not.

Cæs. I muſt be laught at, if for nothing, or a little, I
Should fay my ſelfe offended, and with you
Chiefely i'th'world. More laught at, that I should
Once name you derogately: when to found your name
It not concern'd me.

Ant. My being in Egypt Cæsar, what was't to you?

Cæs. No more then my reciding heere at Rome
Might be to you in Egypt: yet if you there
Did præſtife on my State, your being in Egypt
Might be my queſtion.

Ant. How intend you, præſtis'd?

Cæs. You may be pleas'd to catch at mine intent,
By what did heere befall me. Your Wife and Brother
Made warres vpon me, and their contestation
Was Theame for you, you were the word of warre.

Ant. You do miftake your buſines, my Brother neuer
Did vrg me in his Act: I did inquire it.
And hae my Learning from ſome true reports
That drew their wordes with you, did he not rather
Difcredit my authority with yours,
And make the warres alike against my ſtomacke,
Hauing alike your caufe. Of this, my Lettes
Before did satisfie you. If you'l patch a quarrell,
As matter whole you haue to make it with,

x3

It

The Tragedie of

It must not be with this.

Cæs. You praise your selfe, by laying defects of iudgement to me: but you patch vp your excuses.

Anth. Not so, nor so:

I know you could not lacke, I am certaine on't,
Very necessity of this thought, that I
Your Partner in the cause 'gainst which he fought,
Could not with gracefull eyes attend his Warres
Which fronted mine owne peace. As for my wife,
I would you had her spirit, in such another,
The third o' the world is yours, which with a Snaffle,
You may pace eafe, but not such a wife.

Enobar. Would we had all such wues, that the men
might go to Warres with the women.

Anth. So much vincrable, her Garboiles (Caſar)

Made out of her impatience: which not wanted
Shrodeneſſe of policie to: I greecing grant,
Did you too much diſquiet, or that you muſt,
But ſay I could not helpe it.

Caſar. I wrote to you, when rioting in Alexandria you
Did pocket vp my Letters: and with taunts
Did gibe my Mifeue out of audience.

Ant. Sir, he fell vpon me, ere admitted, then:
Three Kings I had newly feaſt, and did want
Of what I was ith' morning: but next day
I told him of my ſelfe, which was as much
As to haue askt him pardon. Let this Fellow
Be nothing of our ſtrife: if we contend
Out of our queſtion wipe him.

Caſar. You haue broken the Article of your oath,
which you shall neuer haue tongue to charge me with.

Lep. Soft Caſar.

Ant. No Lepidus, let him ſpeake,
The Honour is Sacred which he talks on now,
Suppofing that I hackt it: but on Caſar,
The Article of my oath.

Caſar. To lend me Atmes, and aide when I require'd
them, the which you both denied.

Anth. Neglected rather:

And then when poyſoned houres had bound me vp
From mine owne knowledge, as neerely as I may,
Ile play the penitent to you. But mine honeſtly,
Shall not make poore my greatneſſe, nor my power
Werke without it. Truth is, that Fulia,
To haue me out of Egypt, made Warres here,
For which my ſelfe, the ignorant motiue, do
So farre aske pardon, as beſits mine Honour
To ſtoope in ſuch a case.

Lep. 'Tis Noble ſpoken.

Meces. If it might please you, to enforce no further
The griefes betwene ye: to forget them quite,
Were to remember: that the preſent needle,
Speakes to attone you.

Lep. Worthily ſpoken Mecenas.

Enobar. Or if you borrow one anothers Loue for the
inſant, you may when you heare no more words of
Pompey returne it againe: you shall haue time to wrangle
in, when you haue nothing eſſe to do.

Anth. Thou art a Souldier, onely ſpeake no more.

Enob. That trutheth should be ſilent, I had almost for-
got.

Anth. You wrong this preſence, therefore ſpeake no
more.

Enob. Go too then: your Confiderate ſtone.

Caſar. I do not much diſlike the matter, but
The manner of his ſpeech: for't cannot be,

We shall remaine in friendſhip, our conditions
So diffring in their acts. Yet if I knew,
What Hoope should hold vs ſtaunch from edge to edge
Arth' world: I would perſue it.

Agri. Giue me leave Caſar.

Caſar. Speake Agrippa.

Agri. Thou haſt a Sifter by the Mothers ſide, admit'd
Octania: Great Mark Anthony is now a widdower.

Caſar. Say not, ſay Agrippa; if Cleopater heard you, your
proofe were well deferued of rafhneſſe.

Anth. I am not married Caſar: let me heere Agrippa
further ſpeake.

Agri. To hold you in perpetuall am'tie,
To make you Brothers, and to knit your hearts
With an vn-flipping knot, take Anthony,
Octania to his wife: whose beauty claimes
No worſe a husband then the beſt of men: whose
Vertue, and whose generall graces, ſpeake
That which none eſſe can vutter. By this marriage,
All little Ielouſes which now ſeeme great,
And all great feares, which now import their dangers,
Would then be nothing. Truth's would be tales,
Where now halſe tales be truth's: her loue to both,
Would each to other, and all loues to both
Draw after her. Pardon what I haue ſpoke,
For 'tis a ſtudied not a preſent thought,
By duty ruminated.

Anth. Will Caſar ſpeak?

Caſar. Not til he heares how Anthony is toucht,
With what is ſpoke already.

Anth. What power is in Agrippa,
If I would ſay Agrippa, be it ſo,
To make this good?

Caſar. The power of Caſar,
And his power, vnto Octavia.

Anth. May I neuer

(To this good purpose, that ſo fairly ſhewes)
Dreame of impediment: let me haue thy hand.
Further this act of Grace: and from this houre,
The heart of Brothers gouerne in our Loues,
And ſway our great Deſignes.

Caſar. There's my hand:

A Sifter I bequeath you, whom no Brother
Did euer loue ſo deereely. Let her liue
To ioyue our kingdomes, and our hearts, and neuer
Flie off our Loues againe.

Lepi. Happily, Amen.

Ant. I did not think to draw my Sword 'gainſt Pompey,
For he hath laid ſtrange courteſies, and great
Of late vpon me. I muſt thanke him only,
Leaſt my remembrance, ſuffer ill report :

At heele of that, deſe him.

Lepi. Time cals vpon's,
Of vs muſt Pompey preſently be ſought,
Or eſſe he ſeekes out vs.

Anth. Where lies he?

Caſar. About the Mount-Mefena.

Anth. What is his ſtrength by land?

Caſar. Great, and encreaſing :

But by Sea he is an absolute Maſter.

Anth. So is the Fame,

Would we had ſpoke together. Haſt we for it,
Yet ere we put our ſelues in Armes, dispatch we
The buſineſſe we haue taſt of.

Caſar. With moſt gladneſſe,
And do inuite you to my Sifters view,

Who.

Anthony and Cleopatra.

347

Whether straight Ile lead you.

Anth. Let vs Lepidus not lacke your company.

Lep. Noble Anthony, not fickneſſe should detaine me.

Flowrjſh: Exit omnes.

Manet Enobarbus, Agrippa, Mecenas.

Mec. Welcome from Egypt Sir.

Enob. Halfe the heart of Cæsar, worthy Mecenas. My honourable Friend Agrippa.

Agri. Good Enobarbus.

Mec. We have cause to be glad, that matters are ſo well diſeſt-ed: you ſtand well by't in Egypt.

Enob. I Sir, we did ſeele day out of countenaunce : and made the night light with drinking.

Mec. Eight Wilde-Boares roſſed whole at a breakſaſt: and but twelue perſons there. Is this true?

Eno. This was but as a Flye by an Eagle: we had much more monſtrous matter of Feaſt, which worthily deferuſed noting.

Mecenas. She's a moſt triumphant Lady, if report be ſquare to her.

Enob. When ſhe firſt met Marke Anthony, ſhe purſt vp her heart vpon the Riuer of Sidnis.

Agri. There ſhe appear'd indeed: or my reporter deuis'd well for her.

Eno. I will tell you,

The Barge ſhe fat in, like a burniſh'd Throne
Burnt on the water: the Poope was beaten Gold,
Purple the Sailes: and ſo perſumed that

The Windes were Loue-ſiſe.
With them the Owers were Silver,
To the tune of Flutes kept ſtroke, and made
The water which they beate, to follow ſaſter;
As amorous of their ſtokes. For her owne perſon,
It beggerd all diſcription, ſhe did lye
In her Pauiljon, cloth of Gold, of Tiffue,
O're-picturing that Venns, where we ſee
The fancie out-worke Nature. On each ſide her,
Stood pretty Dimpled Boyes, like smiling Cupids,
With diuers coulour'd Fannes whose winde did ſeeue,
To gloue the delicate cheekes which they did coole,
And what they vndid.

Agrip. Oh rare for Anthony.

Eno. Her Gentlewoman, like the Nereides,
So many Mer-maides tended her i'th'eyes,
And made their bends adornings. At the Helme.
A ſeeming Mer-maid ſeeres: The Silken Tackle,
Swell with the touches of thate Flower-soft hands,
That yarely frame the office. From the Barge
A ſtrange inuible perfume hits the ſenſe
Of the adjacent Wharſes. The Citty caſt
Her people out vpon her: and Anthony
Enthron'd i'th'Market-place, did ſit alone,
Whiffling to'thayre: which but for vacancie,
Had gone to gaze on Cleopater too,
And made a gap in Nature.

Agri. Rare Egiptian.

Eno. Vpon her landing, Anthony ſent to her,
Invited her to Supper: ſhe replied,
It should be better, he became her gueſt:
Which ſhe entreated, our Courteous Anthony,
Whom nere the word of no woman hard ſpeake,
Being barber'd often times o're, goes to the Feaſt:
And for his ordinary, paſes his heart,
For what his eyes eate onely.

Agri. Royall Wench:

She made great Cæsar lay his Swoſt to bed:

He ploughed her; and ſhe cropt.

Eno. I law her once.

Hop forty Paces through the publicke ſtreete,

And hauing loft her breath, ſhe spoke, and panted,

That ſhe did make defect, perfection,

And breathleſſe powre breath forth.

Mec. Now Anthony, muſt leaue her vetterly.

Eno. Neuer he will not:

Age cannot wither her, nor cuſſome ſtale

Her infinite variety: other women doy

The appetites they feede, but ſhe makes hangry,

Where moſt the ſatisties. For vildeſt things,

Become themſelues in her, that the holy Prieths

Bleſſe her, when ſhe is Riggth.

Mec. If Beauty, Wisedome, Modesty, can ſet ſle

The heart of Anthony: Ocaſtania is

A bleſſed Lottery to him.

Agrip. Let vs go. Good Enobarbus, make your ſelfe my gueſt, whilſt you abide here.

Eno. Humbly Sir I thanke you.

Exeunt

Enter Anthony, Cæsar, Ocaſtania betwene them.

Anth. The world, and my great office, will
Sometimes deuide me from your boſome.

Oca. All which time, before the Gods my knee ſhall bowe my ptayers to them for you.

Anth. Goodnight Sir. My Ocaſtania.

Read not my blemiſhes in the world's report:

I haue not kept my ſquare, but that to come

Shall all be done by't Rule: good night deere Lady:

Good night, Sir.

Cæsar. Goodnight.

Exit.

Enter Soothſaſer.

Anth. Now firrah: you do with your ſelfe in Egypt?

Sooth. Would I had neuer come from there, nor you thither.

Anth. If you can, your reason?

Sooth. I fee it in my motion: haue it not in my tongue,
But yet hie you to Egypt againe.

Antho. Say to me, whole Fortunes ſhall ſe higher
Caſars or mine?

Sooth. Caſars. Therefore (oh Anthony) ſtay not by his ſide
Thy Daemon that thy ſpirit which keepeſe thee,
Noble, Couragious, high vnmatchable,
Where Caſars is not. But neere him, thy Angell
Becomes a ſeare : as being o're-pow'd, therefore
Make ſpace enough betweene you.

Anth. Speake this no more.

Sooth. To none but thee no more but: when to thee,
If thou doſt play with him at any game,

Thou art ſure to loose: And of that Naturall Jucke,

He beats thee, gainſt the oddes. Thy Luffer thickens,

When he ſhines by: I ſay againe, thy ſpirit

Is all affaide to gourne thee neere him:

But he alway't is Noble.

Anth. Get thee gone:

Say to Ventigines I would ſpeake with him.

Exit.

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 faintes,

Vnder his chance, if we draw lots he (speedy)

His Cocks do winne the Batteaile, fill of mine,

When it is all to naught: and his Quailes euer

Beate mine (in hoopſ) at odd's. I will to Egypt.

And

348

The Tragedie of

And though I make this marriage for my peace,
I' th'Eaft my pleasure lies. Oh come Vertigia.
Enter Vertigia.

You muft to Parthia, your Commissions ready :
Follow me, and recue't.
Exeunt

Enter Lepidus, Mecenas and Agrippa.

Lepidus. Trouble your felues no further: pray you haften your Generals after.

Agr. Sir, Marke Anthony, will e'ne but kiffie Octavia,
and weele follow.

Lepi. Till I shall see you in your Souldiezs, dresſe,
Which will become you both: Farewell.

Mec. We shall: as I conceiue the journey, be at
Mount before you Lepidus.

Lepi. Your way is shorter, my purpofes do draw me much about, you'le win two dayes vpon me.

Both. Sir good ſucceſſe.

Lepi. Farewell.

Exeunt.

Enter Cleopater, Charmian, Iras, and Alexas.

Cleo. Giue me some Muficke: Muficke, moody fooſe
of vs that trade in Loue.

Omnes. The Muficke, hoa.

Enter Mardian the Eunuch.

Cleo. Let it alone, let's to Billards: come Charmian.

Char. My arme is ſore, beſt play with Mardian.

Cleopa. As well a woman with an Eunuch plaide, as
with a woman. Come you'le play with me Sir?

Mards. As well as I can Madam.

Cleo. And when good will is ſhewed,

Though't come to ſhort

The Acto'r may pleade pardon. Ile none now,
Gue me mine Angle, weele to' th'Riuer there
My Muficke playing farre off. I will betray
Tawny fine filhes, my bended hooke shall pierce
Their ſlimy iawes: and as I draw them vp,
Ile thinke them euery one an Anthony,
And ſay, ah, hay'are caught.

Char. 'Was merry when you wager'd on your Ang-
ling, when your diuer did hang a felt filsh on his hooke
which he with ſeruencie drew vp.

Cleo. That time? Oh times:

I haught him out of patience: and that night
I haught him into patience, and next morne,
Ere the ninth houre, I drunke him to his bed:
Then put my Tires and Mantles on him, whilſt
I wore his Sword Phillippan. Oh from Italic,

Enter a Melfe-ger.

Ramme: thou thy fruitefull tidings in mine cares,
That long time haue bin barren.

Mef. Madam, Madam.

Cleo. Anthony's dead,

If thou ſay so Villaine, thou kilſt thy Miftris:
But well and free, if thou ſo yeild him.

There is Gold, and heere

My blew eſt vaines to kiffie: a hand that Kings
Hane lip't, and trembled k.ſing.

Mef. First Madam, he is well.

Cleo. Why, there's more Gold.

But firra h marke, we vſe.

To ſay, the dead are well: bring it to that,

The Gold I giue thee, will I melt and pow'r

Downe thy ill vttering throat.

Mef. Good Madam heare me.

Cleo. Well, go too I will:

But there's no goodneſſe in thy face if Anthony

Be free and healthfull; to tart a fauour

To trumpet ſuch good tidings, I nſot well,

Thou ſhouldſt come like a Furie crown'd with Snakes,
Not like a formall man.

Mef. Wilt please you heare me?

Cleo. I haue a mind to ſtrike thee ere thou ſpeak'st:
Yet if thou ſay Anthony liues, 'tis well,
Or friends with Caſar, or not Captiue to him,
Ile ſet thee in a shower of Gold, and haile
Rich Pearles vpon thee.

Mef. Madam, he's well.

Cleo. Well ſaid.

Mef. And Friends with Caſar.

Cleo. Th'art an honest man.

Mef. Caſar, and he, are greater Friends then euers.

Cleo. Make thee a Fortune from me.

Mef. But yet Madam.

Cleo. I do not like but yet, it does alay

The good precedence, ſie vpon but yet,

Bur yet is as a laylor to bring fourth

Some monſtrous Malefactor. Prythee Friend,

Powre out the packe of matter to mine eare,

The good and bad together: he's friends with Caſar,
In ſtate of health thou ſaſt, and thou ſaſt, free.

Mef. Free Madam, no: I made no ſuch report,
He's bound vnto Octavia.

Mef. For what good turne?

Mef. For the belt turne i'th'bed.

Cleo. I am pale Charmian.

Mef. M dam, he's married to Octavia.

Cleo. The moſt infectious Peftilence vpon thee.

Strikes him downe.

Mef. Good Madam patience.

Cleo. What ſay you?

Strikes him.

Hence horrible Villaine, or Ile spurne thine eyes

Like balls before me: Ile vnhaire thy head,

She hales him vp and downe.

Thou ſhalt be whipt with W yer, and ſtew'd in brine,
Smarting in lingring pickle.

Mef. Gratious Madam,

I that do bring the newes, made not the match.

Cleo. Say't is not so, a Prouince I will glue thee,
And make thy Fortunes proud: the blow thou haſt
Shall make thy peace for mouing me to rage,
And I will boot thee with what guift beſide
Thy mod ſt ſtie can begge.

Mef. He's married Madam.

Cleo. Rogue, thou haſt liu'd too long.

Draw a knife.

Mef. Nay then Ile runne.

What meane you Madam, I haue made no ſault.

Char. Good Madam keepe your ſelfe within your ſelfe,
The man is innocent.

Cleo. Some Innocents ſcape not the thunderbolt:

Melt Egypt into Nyle: and kindly creatures

Turne all to Serpents. Call the flane againe,

Though I am mad, I will not byte him: Call?

Char. He is afeard to come.

Cleo. I will not hurt him,

Theſe hands do lacke Nobility, that they ſtrike

A meaner then my ſelfe: ſince I my ſelfe

Haue giuen my ſelfe the cauſe. Come hither Sir.

Enter the Messenger againe.

Though it be honest, it is neuer good

To bring bad newes: giue to a gratious Meſſage

An

Anthony and Cleopatra.

An host of tongues, but let ill tydings tell
Them selues, when they be felt.

Mef. I haue done my duty.

Cleo. Is he married?

I cannot hate thee worser then I do,
If thou againe fay yes.

Mef. He's married Madam.

Cleo. The Gods confound thee,

Doft thou hold there still?

Mef. Should I lye Madame?

Cleo. Oh,I would thou didst:

So halfe my Egypt were submerg'd and made
A Ceſtene forICAL Snakes. Go get thee hence,
Had'ft thou Narciffus in thy face to me,

Thou would't appeere moſt vgly: He is married ?
Mef. I craue your Highneſſe pardon.

Cleo. He is married?

Mef. Take no offence, that I would not offend you,
To pennifh me for what you make me do
Seemes much vnequall, he's married to Oſtania.

Cleo. Oh that his fault should make a knaue of thee,
That art not what th'art sure of. Get thee hence,
The Marchandize which thou haſt brought from Rome
Are all too deere for me.

Lye they vpon thy hands, and be vndone by em.

Char. Good your Highneſſe patience.

Cleo. In praying Anthony, I haue diſprais'd Cæsar.

Char. Many times Madam.

Cleo. I am paid for't now: lead me from hence,
I faint, oh Irae, Cbarmiars: 'tis no matter.
Go to the Fellow, good Alexas bid him
Report the feature of Oſtania: her yeares,
Her inclination, let him not leaue our
The colour of her haire. Bring me word quickly,
Let him for euer go, let him not Cbarmiars,
Though he be painted one way like a Gorgon,
The other wayes a Mars. Bid you Alexas
Bring me word, how tall ſhe is:ittel me Cbarmiar,
But do not ſpeake to me. Lead me to my Chamber.

Exeunt.

Flourish. Enter Pompey, at one door with Drum and Trumpet: at another Cæsar, Lepidus, Anthony, Enoberbus, Menaces, Agrippa, Menas with Souldiers Marching.

Pom. Your Hoftages I haue, so haue you mine:
And we shall talke before we fight.

Cæsar. Moſt meete that firſt we come to words,
And therefore haue we
Our written purpofes before vs ſent,

Which if thou haſt confidered, let vs know,
If't will tye vp thy discontented Sword,
And carry backe to Cicelie much tall youth,
That eſſe muſt perſih heere.

Pom. To you all three,
The Senators alone of this great world,
Chieſe Faſtors for the Gods. I do not know,
Wherefore my Father ſhould reuengers want,
Hauing a Sonne and Friends, ſince Julius Cæsar,
Who at Phillippi the good Bruttus ghoſted,
There ſaw you labouring for him. What was't
That mou'd pale Caffius to confpire ? And what
Made all-honor'd, honet, Romaine Bruttus,
With the arm'd reſt, Courtiers of beautious freedome,
To drench the Capitoll, but that they would
Hae one man but a man, and that his it
Hath made me rigge my Nauie. At whose burthen,
The anger'd Ocean fomes, with which I meant

To scourge th'ingratitude, that deſpightfull Rome
Caſt on my Noble Father.

Cæsar. Take your time.

Ant. Thou can't not ſeare vs Pompey with thy ſailles.
Weele ſpeake with thee at Sea. At land thou know'st it
How much we do o're-count thee.

Pom. At Land indeed

Thou doſt orecount me of my Father's house:
But ſince the Cuckoo buildes not for himſelfe,
Remaine in't as thou maſſt.

Lepi. Be pleas'd to tell vs,

(For this is from the preſent how you take)

The offers we haue ſent you.

Cæsar. There's the point.

Ant. Which do not be entreated too,

But waigh what it is worth imbrac'd

Cæsar. And what may follow to try a larger Fortune.

Pom. You haue made me offer
Of Cicelie, Sardinia: and I muſt
Rid all the Sea of Pirates. Then to ſend
Meaſures of Wheat to Rome: this greed vpon,
To part with vnhackt edges, and beare backe
Our Targes vnhinted.

Omnes. That's our offer.

Pom. Know then I came before you heere,

A man prepar'd

To take this offer. But Maſke Anthony,
Put me to ſome impatience: though I looke
The præife of it by telling. You muſt know
When Cæsar and your Brother were at blowes,
Your Mother came to Cicelie, and did finde
Her welcome Friendly.

Ant. I haue heard it Pompey,
And am well studied for a liberall thanks,
Which I do owe you.

Pom. Let me haue your hand :
I did not thinke Sir, to haue met you heere,
Ant. The beds i'th'Eaſt are ſoft, and thanks to you,
That cal'd me timelier then my purpofe hither :

For I haue gained by't.

Cæsar. Since I ſaw you laſt, there's a change vpon you.
Pom. Well, I know not,

What counts haſh Fortune caſt vpon my face,
But in my boſome haſt ſhe neuer come,
To make my heart her vvaſſaile.

Lep. Well met here.

Pom. I hope so Lepidus, thus we are agreed :

I craue our composition may be written

And feal'd betweene vs,

Cæsar. That's the next to do.

Pom. Weele ſeaf each other, ere we part, and let's
Draw lots who shall begin,

Ant. That will I Pompey.

Pompey. No Anthony take the lot: but firſt or laſt,
your fine Egyptian cookerie ſhall haue the fame, I haue
heard that Inſius Cæsar, grew fat with feaſtng there,

Anth. You haue heard much.

Pom. I haue ſaire meaning Sir.

Ant. And ſaire words to them.

Pom. Then ſo much haue I heard,

And I haue heard Appolodorus carried

Ena. No more that he did so.

Pom. What I pray you?

Ena. A certaine Queene to Cæsar in a Matris.

Pom. I know thee now, how far't thou Souldier?

Ena. Well, and well am like to do, for I perceive

Four

The Tragedie of

Foure Feafts are toward.

Pom. Let me shake thy hand,
I neuer hated thee: I haue seene thee fight,
When I haue enuied thy bchauier.

Enob. Sir, I neuer lou'd you much, but I ha'prais'd dye,
When you haue well defers'd ten times as much,
As I haue faid you did.

Pom. Inioy thy plainneffe,
It nothing ill becomes thee:
Aboord my Gally, I inuite you all.
Will you leade Lords?

All. Shew's the way, fir.

Pom. Come, Excunt. Manet Enob. & Menas

Men. Thy Father Pompey would ne're haue made this
Treaty. You, and I haue knowne fir.

Enob. At Sea, I thinke.

Men. We haue Sir.

Enob. You haue done well by water.

Men. And you by Land.

Enob. I will praisè any man that will praisè me, though
it cannot be denied what I haue done by Land.

Men. Nor what I haue done by water.

Enob. Yes some-thing you can deny for your owne
safety : you haue bin a great Theefe by Sea.

Men. And you by Land.

Enob. There I deny my Land feruice: but giue mee
your hand Menas, if our eyes had authority, heere they
might take two Theeues kiffing.

Men. All mens faces are true, whatsomere their hands
are.

Enob. But there is neuer a fayre Woman, ha's a true
Face.

Men. No flander, they steale hearts.

Enob. We came bicher to fight with you.

Men. For my part, I am forry it is turn'd to a Drink-
ing. Pompey doth this day laugh away his Fortune.

Enob. If he do, sure he cannot weep't backe againe.

Men. Y'haue faid Sir, we look'd not for Marke An-
thony heere, pray you, is he married to Cleopatra?

Enob. Cæsar Sifter is call'd Octania.

Men. True Sir, she was the wife of Cæsar Marcellus.

Enob. But she is now the wife of Marcus Antonius.

Men. Pray'ye fir.

Enob. 'Tis true.

Men. Then is Cæsar and he, for euer knit together.

Enob. If I were bound to Divine of this vnity, I wold
not Propheſe ſo.

Men. I thinke the policy of that purpose, made more
in the Marriage, then the loue of the parties.

Enob. I thinke ſo too. But you shall finde the band
that feemes to tie your friendſhip together, will be the
very Trangler of their Amity: Oftania is of a holy, cold,
and still conuerſation.

Men. Who would not haue his wife ſo?

Enob. Not he that himſelfe is not ſo: which is Marke
Anthony: he will to his Egyptian diſh againe: then ſhall
the ſighes of Octavia blow the fire vp in Cæsar, and (as I
faid before) that which is the ſtrength of their Amity,
ſhall proue the immediate Author of their variance. An-
thony will vſe his affection where it is. Hee married but
his occafion heere.

Men. And thus it may be. Come Sir, will you aboard?
I haue a health for you.

Enob. I ſhall take it fir: we haue vs'd our Throats in
Egypt.

Men. Come, let's away.

Excunt.

Mufſicke players.

Enter two or three Seruants with a Banket.

1. Here they'll be man: some o'th' their Plants are ill
rooted already, the least winde i'th' world will blow them
downe.

2. Lepidus is high Conlord.

1. They haue made him drinke Almes drinke.

2. As they pinch one another by the diſpoſition, hee
cries out, no more; reconciles them to his entreatie, and
himſelfe to'th'drinke.

1. But it raſes the greatest warre betweene him & his
diſcretion.

2. Why this it is to haue a name in great mens Fel-
lowship: I had as liue haue a Reede that will do me no
feruice, as a Partizan I could not haue.

1. To be call'd into a huge Sphere, and not to be ſene
to mone in't, are the holes where eyes should bee, which
pittifullie diſafter the cheekes.

A Sennet founded.

Enter Cæsar, Anthony, Pompey, Lepidus, Agrippa, Decenas,
Enobarbus, Menes, with other Captaines.

Ant. Thus do they Sir: they take the flow o'th'Nyle
By certaine ſcales i'th'Pyramid: they know
By'th'height, the lowneſſe, or the meane : I death
Or Foizon follow. The higher Nilus fwels,
The more it promises : as it ebbeſſe, the Seedman
Vpon the flume and Ooze ſcatters his graine,
And shortly comes to Harueſt.

Lep. Y'haue ſtrange Serpents there?

Ant. 1 Lepidus.

Lep. Your Serpent of Egypt, is bred now of your mud
by the operation of your Sun: ſo is your Crocodile.

Ant. They are ſo.

Pom. Sic, and ſome Wine: A health to Lepidus.

Lep. I am not ſo well as I should be:

But Ilene're out.

Enob. Not till you haue ſlept: I ſeare me you'l bee in
till then.

Lep. Nay certainly, I haue heard the Prolomies Pyra-
mis are very goodly things : without contradiction I
haue heard that.

Menas. Pompey, a word.

Pomp. Say in mine care, what is't.

Men. Forſake thy ſeate I do beſeech thee Captaine,
And heare me ſpeake a word.

Pom. Forbeare me till anon.

Whispers in 't Eare.

This Wine for Lepidus.

Lep. What manner o'ching is your Crocodile?

Ant. It is ſhap'd fir like it ſelfe, and it is as broad as it
hath bredth; It is iuſt ſo high as it is, and mooues within
owe organs. It liues by that which nouritheth it, and
the Elements once out of it, it Tranſmigrates.

Lep. What colour is it of?

Ant. Of it owe colour too.

Lep. 'Tis a ſtrange Serpent.

Ant. 'Tis ſo, and the teares of it are wet.

Cæs. Will this deſcription ſatſe him?

Ant. With the Health that Pompey giues him, ſelſe
is a very Epicure.

Pomp. Go hang fir, hang: tell me of that? Away:
Do as I bid you. Where's this Cup I call'd for?

Men. If for the ſake of Merit thou wilt heare me,

Rife.

The Tragedie of

352

Should my performance perisph.

Rom. Thou haſt *Ventrissus* that, without the which a
Souldier and his Sword graunts ſcarce diſtinction: thou
wilt write to *Anthony*:

Ven. Ile humbly ſignifie what in his name,
That magicall word of Warre we haue effected,
How with his Banners,and his well paid ranks,
The nere-yet beaten Horſe of Parthia,
We haue iaded out o'r Field.

Rom. Where is he now?

Ven. He purpofeth to Athens, whither with what haſt
The waight we muſt conuay with's, will permit:
We shall appeare before him. On there, paffe along.

Exeunt.

Enter *Agrippa* at one door, *Enobarbus* at another.

Agri. What are the Brothers parted?

Eno. They haue dispatcht with Pompey, he is gone,
The other three are Sealing. Oćtania weepes
To part from Rome: *Caſar* is fad, and Lepidus
Since Pompey's feast, as Menas faics, is troubled
With the Greene Sicknessneſſe.

Agri. 'Tis a Noble Lepidus.

Eno. A very fine one: oh, how he loues *Caſar*.

Agri. Nay but how deereely he adores Mark Anthony.

Eno. *Caſar* ? why he's the Iupiter of men.

Ant. What's Anthony, the God of Iupiter ?

Eno. Spake you of *Caſar* ? How, the non-parcell ?

Agri. Oh Anthony, oh thou Arabian Bird !

Eno. Would you praife *Caſar*, lay *Caſarigo* no further.

Agr. Indeed he plied them both with excellent praiſes.

Eno. But he loues *Caſar* beſt, yet he loues *Anthony*:

Hoo, Hearts, Tongues, Figure,
Scribes, Bards, Poets, cannot
Thinke ſpeake, caſt, write, ſing, number: hoo,
His loue to *Anthony*. But as for *Caſar*,
Kneele downe, kneele downe, and wonder.

Agri. Both he loues.

Eno. They are his Shards, and he their Beetle; so:

This is to horſe: Adieu, Noble *Agrippa*.

Agri. Good Fortune worthy Souldier, and farewell.

Enter *Caſar*, *Anthony*, *Lepidus*, and *Oćtania*.

Antho. No further Sir.

Caſar. You take from me a great part of my ſelfe.
Vſe me well in't. Sifter, proue ſuch a wife
As my thoughts make thee, and as my fartheſt Band
Shall paffe on thy approoſe: moſt Noble *Anthony*,
Let not the peecce of Vertue which is ſet

Betwixt vs, as the Cyment of our Ioue

To keepe it builded, be the Ramme to batter

The Fortrefſe of it: for better might we

Haue lou'd without this meane, if onboth parts

This be not cheriſt.

Ant. Make me not offended, in your diſtruſt.

Caſar. I haue faid.

Ant. You shall not finde,

Though you be therein curious, the left cauſe
For what you ſee me to ſeare, so the Gods keepe you,
And make the hearts of Romaines ſerue your ends:
We will heere part.

Caſar. Farewell my deereſt Sifter, ſare thee well,
The Elements be kind to thee, and make

Thy ſpirits all of comfort: ſare thee well.

Oſta. My Noble Brother.

Anth. The Aprill's in her eyes, it is Loues Spring,
And these the ſhowers to bring it on: be cheerfull.

Oſta. Sir, looke well to my Husbands houſe; and—

Caſar. What Oćtania ?

Oſta. Ile tell you in your eare.

Ant. Her tongue will not obey her heart, nor can
Her heart informe her toughe.

The Swannes downe feather

That ſlands vpon the Swell at the full of Tide;

And neither way inclines.

Eno. Will *Caſar* weepe?

Agr. He ha's a cloud in's face.

Eno. He were the worſe for that were he a Horſe, so is
he being ajman.

Agri. Why *Enobarbus*?

When *Anthony* found *Julius Caſar* dead,

He cried almoſt to roaring: And he wept,

When at Philippi he found *Brutus* flaine.

Eno. That yearindeed, he was trobled with a rheume,
What willingly he did confound, he wail'd,
Beleeu't till I weepe too.

Caſar. No sweet Oćtania,
You shall heare from me ſtill: the time shall not
Out-go my thinking on you.

Ant. Come Sir, come,
Ile wraſtle with you in my ſtrength of loue,
Looke heere I haue you, thus I let you go,
And give you to the Gods.

Caſar. Adieu, be happy.

Lep. Let all the number of the Starres giue light
To thy faire way.

Caſar. Farewell, farewell.

Kisses Oćtania.

Ant. Farewell.

Trumpets found.

Exeunt.

Enter *Cleopatra*, *Charmian*, *Iras*, and *Alexas*.

Cleo. Where is the Fellow ?

A'lex. Halfe aſeard to come.

Cleo. Go too, go too: Come hither Sir.

Enter the Meſſenger as before.

Alex. Good Maieſtie: Herod of Iury dare not looke
vpon you, but when you are well pleas'd.

Cleo. That Herod's head, Ile haue: but how? When
Anthony is gone, through whom I might command it:
Come thou neere.

Mef. Moſt grations Maieſtie.

Cleo. Did it thou behold Oćtania ?

Mef. I dread Queene.

Cleo. Where?

Mef. Madam in Rome, I lookt her in the face: and
ſaw her led betweene her Brother, and *Marke Anthony*.

Cleo. Is ſhe aſtall as me ?

Mef. ſhe is not Madam.

Cleo. Didſt heare her ſpeake ?

Is ſhe ſhrill tongue'd or low?

Mef. Madam, I heard her ſpeake, ſhe is low voic'd.

Cleo. That's not ſo good: he cannot like her long.

Char. Like her ? Oh *Iſs* : 'tis impoſſible.

Cleo. I thinke ſo *Charmian*: dull of tongue, & dwarſſilſh
What Maieſtie is in her gate, remember
Ifere thou look't at Maieſtie.

Mef. She creepes: her motion, & her ſtation are as one.
She ſhewes a body, rather than a life,
A Statue, then a Breather.

Cleo. Is this certaine ?

Mef. Or I haue no obſeruance.

Cha. Three in Egypt cannot make better note.

Cleo. He's very knowing, I do perceiue't,
There's nothing in her yet.

The

Anthony and Cleopatra.

353

The Fellow ha's good iudgement.

Char. Excellent.

Cleo. Gueſſe at her yeares, I prythee.

Meff. Madam, she was a widow.

Cleo. Widdow ? Charmian, hearke.

Mef. And I do thinke the ſhirtie.

Cle. Beat it thou her face in mind? is't long or round?

Meff. Round, euen to faultineſſe.

Cleo. For the moſt part too, they are fooliſh that are
ſo. Her haire what colour?

Meff. Browne Madam: and her forehead

As low as she would wifh it.

Cleo. There's Gold for thee,

Thou muſt not take my former ſharpenſe ill,
I will employ thee backe againe: I finde thee
Moft fit for buſineſſe. Go, make thee ready,
Our Letters are prepar'd.

Char. A proper man.

Cleo. Indeed he is ſo: I repent me much
That I haрад him. Why me think's by him,
This Creature's no ſuch thing.

Char. Nothing Madam.

Cleo. The man hath ſeen e some Maietie, and ſhould
know.

Char. Hath he ſeene Maietie ? Iſe ſelfe defend: and
ſerving you ſo long.

Cleopa. I haue one thing more to aske him yet good
Charmian: but 'tis no matter, thou haſt bring him to me
where I will write all may be well enough.

Char. I warrant you Madam.

Exeunt.

Enter Anthony and Oſtania.

Ant. Nay, nay, Oſtania, not onely that,

That were excuſable, that and thouands more
Of ſemblable import, but he hath wag'd

New Warres 'gainſt Pompey. Made his will, and read it,
To publicke eare, ſpoke ſiantly of me,
When perſorce he could not

But pay me teameſts of Honour: cold and ſickly

He vented then moſt narrow meaſure: e. n't m's,
When the beſt hint was giuen him: he not look't,
Or did it from his teeth.

Oſtania. Oh my good Lord,

Beleue not all, or if you muſt beleuee,

Stomacke not all. A more vnhappie Lady,

If this deuision chance, ne're flood betweene
Praying for both parts :

The good Gods wil mocke me prefently,

When I shall pray: Oh bleſſe my Lord, and Husband,

Vndo that prayer, by crying out as loud,

Oh bleſſe my Brother. Husband winne, winne Brother,
Prayes, and diſtroyes the prayer, no midway

Twixt theſe extreames at all.

Ant. Gentle Oſtania,

Let your beſt loue draw to that point which ſeeks

Bef't to preferue it: if I looke mine Honour,

I looke my ſelſe: better I were not yours

Then your ſo branchleſſe. But as you requesſed,

Your ſelſe shall go between's, the meane time Lady,
He raſe the preparation of a Warre.

Shall ſtaine your Brother, make your ſooner ſt haſt,
So your deſires are yours.

Oſt. Thanks to my Lord,

The Ioue of power make me moſt weake, moſt weake,
We reconſiler: Warres 'twixt you twaine would be,
As if the world ſhould cleaue, and that ſtaine men

Should ſoader vp the Riſt.

Ant. When it appeereſ to you where this begins,

Turne your displeasure that way, for our ſaults

Can neuer be ſo equall, that your loue

Can equally moue with them: Prouide your going,

Choose your owne company, and command what coſt

Your heart he's mind too.

Exeunt.

Enter Enobarbatus, and Eros.

Eno. How now Friend Eros?

Eros. Ther's ſtrange Newes come Sir.

Eno. What man?

Ero. Cæsar & Lepidus haue made warres vpon Pompey.

Eno. This is old, what is the ſuccesse?

Eros. Cæsar hauing made ſe of him in the warres
'gainſt Pompey: prefently denied him riuality, would not
let him partake in the glory of the action, and not reſing
here, accuſes him of Letters he had formerly wrote to
Pompey. Vpon his owne appeale ſeizes him, to the poore
thire is vp, till death enlarge his Conſine.

Eno. Then would thou haſt a paire of chaps no more,
and throw betweene them all the food thou haſt, they le
grinde the other. Where's Anthony?

Eros. He's walking in the garden thus, and ſpurities

The rulſh that lies before him. Cries Foole Lepidus,

And threats the throat of that his Officer,

That murdred Pompey.

Eno. Our great Nauiues rig'd.

Eros. For Italy and Cæsar, more Domitius,

My Lord deſires you pretently : my Newes

I might haue told heareafter.

Eno. 'Twill be naught, but let it be: bring me to Anthony.

Eros. Come Sir.

Exeunt.

Enter Agrippa, Mecenas, and Cæsar.

Cæs. Contemning Rome he has done all this, & more
In Alexandria: here's the manner of:

I'ch' Market-place on a Tribunall filuer'd,

Cleopatra and himſelſe in Chaires of Gold

Were publieally enthron'd : at the feet, ſat

Cæsarion whom they call my Fathers Sonne,

And all the vnlawfull ſuſſue, that their Luſt

Since then hath made betweene them. Vnto her,

He gaue the ſtablishment of Egypt, made her

Oflower Syria, Cyprus, Lydia, abſolute Queene,

Mecè. This in the publike eye?

Cæsar. I'ch't common ſhew place, where they exercise,
His Sonnes hither proclaimed the King of Kings,
Great Media, Parthis, and Armenia

He gaue to Aſſzauder. To Ptolomy he aſſign'd,

Syria, Silicia, and Phoenicia : the

In th'abiliments of the Goddeſſe Iſis

That day appear'd, and oft before gaue audience,

As 'tis reported ſo.

Mecè. Let Rome be thus inform'd.

Agri. Who queszie with his insolence already,

Will their good thoughts call from him.

Cæsar. The people knowes it,

And haue now receiv'd his accuſations.

Agri. Who does he accuſe ?

Cæsar. Cæsar, and that hauing in Cicilie

Sextus Pompeius [spoil'd, we had not rated him

His part o'th'ſle. Then does he ſay, he lent me

Some ſhipping vareſt'or'd. Lastly, he frets

That Lepidus of the Triumpherate, ſhould be depos'd,
And being that, we detaine all his Reuence.

Agri. Sir, this should be anſwer'd.

Cæsar. 'Tis done already, and the Meſſenger gone:
I haue told him Lepidus was growne too cruell,

yy

That

354

The Tragedie of

That he his high Authority abus'd,
And did deferue his change: for what I haue conquer'd,
I grant him part: but then in his Armenia,
And other of his conquer'd Kingdoms, I demand the like
Mec. Hee'l neuer yeeld to that.
Ces. Nor muft not then be yeelded to in this.

*Enter Oſtania with her Traine.*

Oſt. Haile Cæsar, and my L. haile moſt deere Cæsar.
Cæsar. That euer I should call thee Cawt-away.
Oſt. You haue not call'd me so, nor haue you caufe.

Cæs. Why haue you ſtoln vpon vs thus? you come not like Cæsar Sifter, The wife of Anthony

Should haue an Army for an Vſher, and
The neighes of Horſe to tell of her approach,
Long ere ſhe did appeare. The trees by th'way
Should haue borne men, and expectation fainted,
Longing for what it had not. Nay, the duſt
Should haue ascended to the Rooſe of Heauen,
Rais'd by your populous Troopes: But you are come
A Market-maid to Rome, and haue prevented
The ſentention of our loue; which left vnſhewne,
Is often left vnloa'd: we should haue met you
By Sea, and Land, fupplying euery Stage
With an augmented greeting.

Oſt. Good my Lord,

To come thus was: I not conſtrain'd, but did it
On my free-will. My Lord Marke Anthony,
Hearing that you prepar'd for Warre, acquainted
My groeued eare withall: whereon I begg'd
His pardon for returne.

Cæs. Which ſoone he granted,

Being an abſtraet 'tweene his Luſt, and him.

Oſt. Do not ſay so, my Lord.

Cæs. I haue eyes vpon him,

And his affaires come to me on the wind: where is he now?
Oſt. My Lord, in Athens.

Cæsar. No my moſt wronged Sifter, Cleopatra

Hath nodded him to her. He hath giuen his Empire
Vp to a Whore, who now are leuying

The Kings o'th'earth for Warre. He hath assembled,
Bochus the King of Lybia, Archilagus

Of Cappadocia, Philadelphos King

Of Paphlagonia: the Thracian King Adullas,

King Mauchus of Arabia, King of Pont,

Heron of Iewry, Mitbridates King

Of Comageat, Polemen and Amintas,

The Kings of Mede, and Licoania,

With a more larger Lift of Scepters.

Oſt. Aye me moſt wretched,

That haue my heart parted be'twixt two Friends,
That does affluct each other. (breaking forth

Cæs. Welcom hither: your Letters did with-holde our
Till we perceiue'd both how you were wrong led,
And we in negligent danger: cheere your heart,
Be you not troubled with the time, which drieues
O're your content, these strong necessities,
But let determin'd things to deſtinie

Hold vnbefwayld their way. Welcome to Rome,
Nothing more deere to me: You are abus'd

Beyond the marke of thought: and the high Gods
To do you Iuſtice, makes his Minifters

Of vs, and those that loue you. Beſt of comfort,

And euer welcom to vs, Agrip. Welcome Lady.

Mec. Welcome deere Madam,

Each heart in Rome does loue and pitty you,

Onely th'adulterous Anthony, moſt large

In his abominations, turnes you off,

And giues his potent Regiment to a Trull
That noyſes it againſt vs.

Oſt. Is it ſo fir?

Cæs. Moſt certaine: Sifter welcome: pray you
Be euer knowne to patience. My deer'ſt Sifter.

*Enter Cleopatra, and Enobarbus.*

Exenunt

Cæo. I will be euen with thee, doubt it not.

Eno. But why, why, why?

Cæo. Thou haſt foreſpoke my being in theſe warres,
And ſay'ſt it not fit.

Eno. Well: is it, is it.

Cæo. If not, denou'd againſt vs, why ſhould not we be there in perſon.

Enob. Well, I could reply: if wee ſhould ſerue with Horſe and Mares together, the Horſe were nearly loft: the Mares would beare a Soldiour and his Horſe.

Cæo. What is't you ſay?

Enob. Your prefence needs muſt puzzle Anthony,
Take from his heart, take from his Braine, from's time,
What ſhould not then be ſpar'd. He is already
Traduc'd for Leuity, and 'tis ſaid in Rome,
That Photinus an Eunuch, and your Maides
Mannage this warre.

Cæo. Sinke Rome, and their tongues not
That ſpeake againſt vs. A Charge we beare i'th'Warre,
And as the preſident of my Kingdome will
Appeare there for a man. Speake not againſt it,
I will not stay behinde.

*Enter Anthony and Camidus.*

Eno. Nay I haue done, here comes the Emperor.

Ant. Is it not ſtrange Camidius,

That from Tarrennum, and Brandufium,

He could ſo quickly cut the Ionian Sea,
And take in Troine. You haue heard on't (Sweet)

Cæo. Celerity is neuer more admir'd,

Then by the negligent.

Ant. A good rebuke,

Which might haue well becom'd the beſt of men
To taunt at ſlackneſſe. Camidius, wee

Will fight with him by Sea.

Cæo. By Sea, what elfe?

Cam. Why will my Lord, do ſo?

Ant. For that he dares vs too't.

Enob. So hath my Lord, dar'd him to ſingle ſight,
Cam. I, and to wage this Battell at Pharflalia,

Where Cæsar fought with Pompey. But theſe offers
Which ſerue not for his vantage, he ſhakes off,
And ſo should you.

Enob. Your Shippes are not well mann'd,
Your Marriners are Militers, Reapers, people
Ingroſt by ſwift Impreſſe. In Cæsar Fleete,
Are thofe, that often haue 'gainſt Pompey fought,
Their ſhippes are yare, yours heauy: no difgrace
Shall fall you for refusing him at Sea,
Being prepar'd for Land.

Ant. By Sea, by Sea.

Eno. Moſt worthy Sir, you therein throw away
The abſolute Soldieryship you haue by Land,
Diftraet your Armie, which doth moſt confiſt
Of Warre-markt-footmen, leaue vnexecuted
Your owne renowned knowledge, quite forgoe
The way which promifes affurance, and
Gie vp your ſelfe merely to chance and hazard,
From firme Securitie.

Ant. Ile fight at Sea.

Cleo

Anthony and Cleopatra.

355

Cleo. I haue fixty Sailes, *Caſar* none better.

Ant. Our ouer-plus of shipping will we burne,
And with the reft full mann'd, from th'head of Action
Beate th'approaching *Caſar*. But if we faile,
We then can doot at Land.
Enter a Messenger.
Thy Buſinesſe ?

Mef. The Newes is true, my Lord, he is deſcried,
*Caſar* ha's taken Toryne.

Ant. Can he be there in perſon? 'Tis impoffible
Strange, that his power should be. Camidus,
Our nineteene Legions thou ſhalt hold by Land,
And our twelue thouſand Horſe. Wee'l to our Ship,
Away my Theſis.

Enter a Soldiour.

How now worthy Souldier?

Soul. Oh Noble Emperor, do not fight by Sea,
Truſt not to rotten plankes: Do you miſdoubt
This Sword, and theſe my Wounds; let th'Egyptians
And the Phecnicians go a ducking: wee
Hae vs'd to conquer it standing on the earth,
And fighting foot to foot.

Ant. Well, well, away.

exit Ant, Cleo, & Enob.

Soul. By Hercules I thinke I am i'th'right.

Cam. Souldier thou art: but his whole action growes
Not in the power on't: ſo our Leaders leade,
And we are Womens men.

Soul. You keepe by Land the Legions and the Horſe
whole, do you not?

Vem. *Marcus Octavius, Marcus Inſprüus,*
*Publiscola, and Celius, are for Sea:*

But we keepe whole by Land. This ſpeede of *Caſars*
Carries beyond beleefe.

Soul. While he was yet in Rome,
His power went out in ſuch diftractions,
As beguilde all Spies.

Cam. Who's his Lieutenant, heare you?

Soul. They ſay, one *Towrns*.

Cam. Well, I know the man.

Enter a Messenger.

Mef. The Emperor cals Camidius.

Cam. With Newes the times with a Labour,
And throwes forth each minute, ſome.

excent

Enter *Caſar* with his Army, marching.

Caſ. *Towrns* ?

Tow. My Lord.

Caſ. Strike not by Land,
Keepe whole, prouoke not Battaile
Till we haue done at Sea. Do not exceede
The Prefcript of this Scroule: Our fortune lyes
Vpon this juſpe.

exit.

Enter Anthony, and Enobarbus.

Ant. Set we our Squadrons on yond ſide o'th'Hill,
In eye of *Caſars* battaile, from which place
We may the number of the Ships behold,
And ſo proceed accordingly.

exit.

Camidius Marcheth with his Land Army one way omer the
ſtage, and Towrſus the Lieutenant of *Caſar* the other way :
After their going in, is heard the noise of a Sea-fight.

Alarum. Enter Enobarbus and Scarres.

Eno. Naught, naught, al naught, I can behold no longer:
Thantoniad, the Egyptian Admirall,
With all their fixty flye, and turne the Rudder:

To ſee't, mine eyes are blaſted.

Enter Scarres.

Scar. Gods, 1s& Goddeſſes, all the whol ſynod of them!

Eno. What's thy paffion.

Scar. The greater Cantle of the world, is loft
With very ignorance, we haue kift away
Kingdomes, and Prouinces.

Eno. How appears the Fight?

Scar. On our ſide, like the Token'd Pefſilence,
Where death is ſure. Yon ribaudred Nagge of Egypt,
(Whom Leproſe o'te-take) i'th'midſt o'th'fight,
When vantage like a payre of Twinnes appear'd
Both as the fame, or rather ouſs the elder ;
(The Breeze vpon her) like a Cow in Inne,
Hoifts Sailes, and flyes.

Eno. That I beheld:
Mine eyes did ſicken at the fight, and could not
Indure a further view.

Scar. She once being looft,
The Noble ruine of her Magicke, *Anthony,*
Claps on his Sea-wing, and (like a doting Mallard)

Leauing the Fight in heighth, flyes after her :

I neuer ſaw an Action of ſuch ſhame ;

Experience, Man-hood, Honor, ne're before,
Did violate ſo it ſelfe.

Enob. Alacke, alacke.

Enter Camidius.

Cam. Our Foretune on the Sea is out of breath,
And finkes moſt lamentably. Had our Generall
Bin what he knew himselfe, it had gone well:
Oh his ha's giuen example for our flight,
Moſt groſſely by his owne.

Enob. I, are you there abouts? Why then goodnight
indeede.

Cam. Toward Peloponneſus are they fled.

Scar. 'Tis eafe toot,

And there I will attend what further comes.

Camid. To *Caſar* will I render
My Legions and my Horſe, ſixe Kings already
Shew me the way of yeelding.

Eno. Ile yet follow
The wounded chance of *Anthony*, though my reaſon
Sits in the winde againſt me.

Enter Anthony with Attendants.

Ant. Hearke, the Land bids me tread no more vpon't,
It is aſham'd to beare me. Friends, come hither,
I am ſo lated in the world, that I
Hae loft my way for euer. I hae a ſhippe,
Laden with Gold, take that, diuide it: flye,
And make your peace with *Caſar*.

Omnes. Fly ? Not wee.

Ant. I haue fled my ſelfe, and haue inſtructed cowards
To runne, and ſhew their shoulders. Friends be gone,
I haue my ſelfe refolu'd vpon a courſe,
Which has no neede of you. Be gone,
My Treasure's in the Harbour. Take it: Oh,
I follow'd that I bluſh to looke vpon,
My very haires do mutiny: for the white
Reproue the browne for rafhneſſe, and they them
For ſeare, and doting. Friends be gone, you ſhall
Hae Letters from me to ſome Friends, that will
Sweepe your way for you. Play you looke not ſad,
Nor make replyes of loathneſſe, take the hint
Which my diſpaire proclaimes. Let them be left
Which leaues it ſelfe, to the Sea-side ſtraight way;
I will poffeſe you of that ſhip and Treasurę.

y 2

Leauer

The Tragedie of

356

Leaue me, I pray a little: pray you now,
Nay do so: for indeede I haue loft command,
Therefore I pray you, Ile see you by and by.
Sits downe

Enter Cleopatra led by Charmian and Eros.

Eros. Nay gentle Madam, to him, comfort him.

Iras. Do moft deere Queene.

Char. Do, why, what else?

Cleo. Let me sit downe: Oh Iuno.

Ant. No, no, no, no, no.

Eros. See you here, Sir?

Ant. Oh fie, fie, fie.

Char. Madam.

Iras. Madam, oh good Empresse.

Eros. Sir, sir.

Ant. Yes my Lord, yes; he at Philippi kept

His sword e're like a dancer, while I strotee

The leane and wrinkled Cassius, and 'twas I

That the mad Brutus ended: he alone

Dealt on Lieutenantry, and no practice had

In the braue squares of Warre: yet now: no matter.

Cleo. Ah stand by.

Eros. The Queene my Lord, the Queene.

Iras. Go to him, Madam, speake to him,

Hee's vnqualified with very ſhame.

Cleo. Well then, ſuſtaine me: Oh.

Eros. Moſt Noble Sir arife, the Queene approaches,

Her head's deciſt'd, and death will cease her, but

Your comfort makes the refcue.

Ant. I haue offended Reputation,

A moſt vnnoleſuering.

Eros. Sir, the Queene.

Ant. Oh whether haſt thou lead me Egypt, ſee
How I conuey my ſhame, out of thine eyes,
By looking backe what I haue left behinde
Stroy'd in diſhonor.

Cleo. Oh my Lord, my Lord,

Forgive my fearfull ſayles, I little thought

You would haue followed.

Ant. Egypt, thou knewſt too well,

My heart was to thy Rudder tyed by'th'trings,
And thou should'ſt flowe me after. O're my ſpirit

The full ſupremacie thou knewſt, and that

Thy becke, might from the bidding of the Gods

Command mee.

Cleo. Oh my pardon.

Ant. Now I muſt

To the young man ſend humble Treaties, dodge

And palter in the shifts of lownes, who

With halſe the bulke o'th'world plaid as I pleas'd,

Making, and marriing Fortunes. You did know

How much you were my Conqueror, and that

My Sword, made weake by my affection, would

Obey it on all caufe.

Cleo. Pardon, pardon.

Ant. Fall not a teare I ſay, one of them rates

All that is wonne and loft: Giue me a kiffle,

Euen't is repayes me.

We ſent our Schoolemaſter, is a come backe?

Loue I am full of Lead: some Wine

Within there, and our Viands: Fortune knowes,

We ſcorne her moſt, when moſt she offers blowes. Exeunt

Enter Caſar, Agrippe, and Dolabello, with others.

Caſ. Let him appeare that's come from Anthony.

Know you him.

Dolla. Caſar, 'tis his Schoolemaſter,

An argument that he is pluckt, when hither

He fends to poore a Pinnion of his Wing,
Which had ſuperfluous Kings for Mef ſengers,
Not many Moones gone by.

Enter Ambaſſador from Anthony.

Caſar. Approach, and ſpeake.

Amb. Such as I am, I come from Anthony:
I was of late as petty to his ends,
As is the Morn -dew on the Mertle leafe

To his grand Sea.

Caſ. Bee't ſo, declare thine office.

Amb. Lord of his Fortunes he ſalutes thee, and
Requires to lieu in Egypt, which not granted
He Lefſons his Requeſts, and to thee ſues

To let him breath betweene the Heauens and Earth
A priuate man in Athens: this for him.

Next, Cleopatra does confefſe thy Greatneſſe,
Submits her to thy might, and of thee craues
The Circle of the Ptolemies for her heyres,
Now hazarded to thy Grace.

Caſ. For Anthony,

I haue no eares to his requeſt. The Queene,
Of Audience, nor Deſire ſhall faile, to thee
From Egypt driue her all-diſgraced Friend,
Or take his life there. This if thee performe,
She ſhall not ſue vnheard. So to them both.

Amb. Fortune purſue thee.

Caſ. Bring him through the Bands :

To try thy Eloquence, now 'tis time, dispatch,
From Anthony winne Cleopatra, promife

And in our Name, what ſhe requires, adde more

From thine inuention, offers. Women are not

In their beſt Fortunes ſtrong; but want will perire

The ne're touch'd Veſtall. Try thy cunning Thidias,
Make thine owne Edict for thy paines, which we
Will anſwer as a Law.

Thid. Caſar, I go.

Caſar. Obferue how Anthony becomes his ſtaw,

And what thou think't his very action ſpeakes

In euery power that moques.

Thid. Caſar, I ſhall.

Exeunt.

Enter Cleopatra, Enobarbus, Charmian, & Iras.

Cleo. What ſhall we do, Enobarbus?

Eno. Thinke, and dye.

Cleo. Is Anthony, or we in fault for this?

Eno. Anthony onely, that would make his will
Lord of his Reaſon. What though you fled,

From that great face of Warre, whole ſeuerall ranges

Frighted each other? Why ſhould he follow?

The itch of his Affection should not then

Haue nickt his Captain-ſhip, at ſuch a point,

When halſe to halſe the world oppos'd, he being

The meered question? 'Twas a ſhame no leſſe

Then was his leſſe, to course your flying Flagges,

And leaue his Nauy gazing.

Cleo. Prythee peace.

Enter the Ambaſſador, with Anthony.

Ant. Is that his anſwer?

Amb. I my Lord,

Ant. The Queene ſhall then haue courteſie,

So ſhe will yeelvs vp.

Am. He ſayes so.

Antho. Let her know't. To the Boy Caſar ſend this
grizled head, and he will fill thy wishes to the brimme,
With Principalities.

Caſ. That head my Lord?

Ant.

Anthony and Cleopatra.

357

Ant. To him againe, tell him he weares the Rofe
Of youth vpon him: from which, the world should note
Something particular: His Coine, Ships, Legions,
May be a Cowards, whose Minifers would preuale
Vnder the feruice of a Childe, as foone
As i'th' Command of Cæsar. I dare him therefore
To lay his gay Comparifons a-part,
And anfwer me declin'd, Sword againſt Sword,
Our felues alone: Ile write it: Follow me.

Eno. Yes like enough: hye battl'd Cæsar will
Vellate his happineſſe, and be Stag'd to th'new
Againſt a Sworder. I fee mens Iudgements are
A parcell of their Fortunes, and things outward
Do draw the inward quality after them
To ſuffer all alike, that he should dreame,
Knowing all meaſures, the full Cæsar will
Anſwer his empreſſe; Cæsar thou haſt ſubdu'd
His iudgement too.

Enter a Servant.

Ser. A Meſſenger from Cæsar.

Cleo. What no more Ceremony? See my Women,
Againſt the blowne Rofe may they ſtop their noſe,
That kneel'd vnto the Buds. Admit him fir.

Eno. Mine honefly, and I, beginne to ſquare,
The Loyalty well held to Fooleſ, does make
Our Faith meere ſolly: yet he that can endure
To follow with Aliegeance a ſalne Lord,
Does conquer him that did his Maſter conquer,
And earnes a place i'th'Story.

Enter Thidias.

Cleo. Cæsars will.

Thid. Heare it apart.

Cleo. None but Friends: ſay boldly.

Thid. So haply are they Friends to Anthony.

Enob. He needs as many (Sir) as Cæsar ha's,
Or needs not vs. If Cæsar pleafe, our Maſter
Will leape to be his Friend: For vs you know,
Whofe he is, we are, and that is Cæsars.

Thid. So. Thus then thou moſt renown'd, Cæsar intrea's,
Not to confider in what caſe thou ſtand'ſt
Further then he is Cæsar.

Cleo. Go on, right Royall.

Thid. He knowes that you embrace not Anthony

As you did loue, but as you feared him.

Cleo. Oh.

Thid. The Icarre's vpon your Honor, therefore he
Does pitty, as conſtrained blemiſhes,
Not as deruſed.

Cleo. He is a God,

And knowes what is moſt right. Mine Honour

Was not yeelded, but conquer'd meereely.

Eno. To be ſure of that, I will aske Anthony.]  
Sir, fir, thou art ſo leakie

That we muſt leave thee to thy ſinking, for
Thy decreſt quit thee.

Exit Enob.

Thid. Shall I ſay to Cæsar,

What you require of him: for he partly begges
To be defir'd to give. It much would please him,
That of his Fortunes you should make a ſtaſſe
To leane vpon. But it would warme his ſpirits
To heare from me you had left Anthony,

And put your ſelues vnder his ſhrowd, the vnierſal Land-

(lord.

Cleo. What's your name?

Thid. My name is Thidias.

Cleo. Moſt kinde Meſſenger,

Say to great Cæsar this in disputation,

I kiffe his conqu'ring hand: Tell him, I am prompt
To lay my Crowne at's feete, and there to kneele.
Tell him, from his all-obeying breath, I hear
The doome of Egypt.

Thid. Tis your Nobleft courſe :
Wifedome and Fortune combating together,
If that the former dare but what it can,
No chance may ſhake it. Giue me grace to lay
My dutie on your hand.

Cleo. Your Cæsars Father oft,
(When he hath mus'd of taking kingdomes in)
Beſtow'd his lips on that vnworthy place,
As it rain'd kiffes.

Enter Anthony and Enobarbus.

Ant. Fauourts? By Ioue that chunders, What art thou
Thid. One that but performs
(Fellow?

The bidding of the fulleſt man, and worthieſt
To haue command e'bey'd.

Eno. You will be whipt.

Ant. Approch there: ah you Kite. Now Gods & diuels
Au thority melts from me of late. When I cried hoa,
Like Boyes vnto a moſſe, Kings would ſtart forth,
And cry, your will. Haue you no eares?

I am Anthony yet. Take hence this lack, and whip him.

Enter a Servant.

Eno. 'Tis better playing with a Lions whelpe,
Then with an old one dying.

Ant. Moone and Starres,
Whip him: wer't twenty of the greatest ſtributaries
That do acknowledge Cæsar, should I finde them
So fewcy with the hand of ſhe here, what's her name
Since ſhe was Cleopatra? Whip him Fellowes,
Till like a Boy you ſee him crinſde his ſace,
And whine aloud for mercy. Take him hence.

Thid. Marke Anthony.

Ant. Tugge him away: being whipe
Bring him againe, the lacke of Cæsars ſhall
Bare vs an arrant to him.
Exeunt with Thidias.

You were halſe blatted ere I knew you: Ha?
Haue I my pillow left vpreſt in Rome,
Forborne the getting of a lawſull Race,
And by a ſem of women, to be abus'd

And by one that lookses on Feeders?

Cleo. Good my Lord.

Ant. You haue beene a boggeler euer,
But when we in our vicounneſſe grow hard
(Oh miſery on't) the wife God's ſeele our eyes
In our owne filth, drop our cleare iudgements, make vs
Adore our errors, laugh at's while we strut
To our conſuſion.

Cleo. Oh, is't come to this?

Ant. I found you as a Morſell, cold vpon
Dead Cæsars Trencher: Nay, you were a Fragment
Of Gneusii Pompeyas, besides what hotter houres
Vnregiſtred in vulgar Fame you haue
Luxuriouſly pickt out. For I am ſure,
Though you can gueſſe what Temperance should be,
You know not what it is.

Cleo. Wherefore is this?

Ant. To let a Fellow that will take rewards,
And ſay, God quit you, be familiar with
My play-fellow, your hand; this Kingly ſcale,
And plightier of high hearts. O that I were
Vpon the hill of Bafon to out-roare
The horned Heard, for I have ſauage cauſe,
And to proclaime it civilly, were like

y 3

A

The Tragedie of

A halter'd necke, which do's the Hangman thanke,
For being yare about him. Is he whipt ?

*Enter a Servant with Thidias.*

Ser. Soundly, my Lord.

Ant. Cried he? and begg'd a Pardon?

Ser. He did aske fauour.

Ant. If that thy Father liue, let him repent
Thou was't not made his daughter, and be thou forrie
To follow Caſar in his Triumph, since

Thou haſt bin whipt. For following him, henceforth
The white hand of a Lady Feauer thee,

Shake thou to looke on't. Get thee backe to Caſar,
Tell him thy entertainment: looke thou ſay
He makes me angry with him. For he feemes
Proud and diſdainfull, harping on what I am,
Not what he knew I was. He makes me angry,

And at this time moſt eafe't is to doo't :
When my good Starres, that were my former guides
Haue empty left their Orbes, and that their Fires
Into th'Abiſme of hell. If he miſlike,

My ſpeech, and what is done, tell him he has
Hיפarχus, my enfranched Bondman, whom
He may at pleaſure whip, or hang, or torture,

As he ſhall like to quit me. Vrge it thou :
Hence with thy ſtripes, be gone.

*Exit Thid.*

Cleo. Haue you done yet?

Ant. Alacke out Terrene Moone is now Eclipſt,
And it portends alone the fall of Anthony.

Cleo. I muſt ſtay his time?

Ant. To flatter Caſar, would you mingle eyes
With one that tyes his points?

Cleo. Not know me yet?

Ant. Cold-hearted toward me?

Cleo. Ah (Deere) if I be ſo,
From my cold heart let Heauen ingender haile,
And poyſon it in the fourſe, and the firſt ſtone
Drop in my necke : as it determines ſo

Drop in my necke : as it determines ſo
Diffoule my life, the next Cæsarian ſmile,

Diffoule my life, the next Cæsarian ſmile,
Till by degrees the memory of my wombe,
Together with my braue Egyptians all,
By the diſcandering of this pelleted ſtorme,
Lye graueleſſe, till the Flies and Gnats of Nyle
Haue buried them for prey.

Ant. I am ſatified:
Caſar sets downe in Alexandria, where
I will oppoſe his Fate. Our force by Land,
Hath Nobly held, our ſuer'd Naue too
Haue knit againe, and Fleete, threatening moſt Sea-like.
Where haſt thou bin my heart? Doſt thou heare Lady?

Iſ from the Field I ſhall returne once more
To kiffſe theſe Lips, I will appeare in Blood,
I, and my Sword, will earne our Chronicle,

I, and my Sword, will earne our Chronicle,
There's hope in't yet.

Cleo. That's my braue Lord.

Ant. I will be trebble-finewed, hearted, breath'd,
And fight maliciously: for when mine houres
Were nice and lucky, men did ransome liues
Of me for iſtels: But now, Ile ſet my teeth,
And ſend to darkeneſſe all that ſtop me. Come,

And ſend to darkeneſſe all that ſtop me. Come,
Let's haue one other gawdy night: Call to me
All my ſad Captaines, fill our Bowles once more:
Let's mocke the midnight Bell.

Let's mocke the midnight Bell.
Cleo. It is my Birth-day,
I had thought t'haue held it poore. But ſince my Lord
Is Anthony againe, I will be Cleopatra.

Is Anthony againe, I will be Cleopatra.
I had thought t'haue held it poore. But ſince my Lord
Is Anthony againe, I will be Cleopatra.

Ant. We will yet do well.

Cleo. Call all his Noble Captaines to my Lord,
Ant. Do ſo, weel ſpeake to them,
And to night Ile force

The Wine peepe through their ſcarres.
Come on (my Queene)

There's ſap in't yet. The next time I do fight
Ile make death loue me: for I will contend
Euen with his peſtilent Syt he.

Exeunt.
Eno. Now hee out-stare the Lightning, to be furious
Is to be frighted out of ſeare, and in that moode
The Doue will pecke the Eſtridge; and I fee ſill
A diminution in our Captaines braine,

Reſlores his heart; when valour prays in reaſon,
It eates the Sword it fights with: I will ſeeke
Some way to leaue him.

Enter Caſar, Agrippa, & Mecenas with his Army,
Caſar reading a Letter.

Caſar. He calles me Boy, and chides as he had power
To beate me out of Egypt. My Meſſenger
He hath whipt with Rods, dares me to personal Combat.

Caſar to Anthony: let the old Ruffian know,
I haue many other wayes to dye: meane time
Laugh at his Challenge.

Mecē. Caſar muſt thinke,
When one ſo great begins to rage, hee's hunted
Euen to falling. Giue him no breath, but now
Make boote of his diſtraſtion: Neuer anger
Made good guard for it ſelfe.

Caſar. Let our beſt heads know,
That to morrow, the laſt of many Battailes
We meane to fight. Within our Fileſ there are,
Of thatſe that ſeru'd Marke Anthony but late,
Enough to fetch him in. See it done,

And Peaſt the Army, we haue ſtore to doo't,

And they haue earnd the waſte, Poore Anthony. Exeunt

Enter Anthony, Cleopatra, Enobarbus, Charnianus,
Iras, Alexias, with others.

Ant. He will not fight with me, Domitian?

Eno. No?

Ant. Why ſhould he not?

Eno. He thinks, being twenty times of better fortune,
He is twenty men to one.

Ant. To morrow Soldier,
By Sea and Land Ile fight: or I will line,
Or bathe my dying Honor in the blood
Shall make it hue againe. Woo't thou fight well.

Eno. Ile ſtrike, and cry, Take all.

Ant. Well ſaid, come on:
Call forth my Houshold Servants, lets to night

Enter, 3 or 4 Seruiters.

Be bounteous at our Meale. Giue me thy hand,
Thou haſt bin rightly honest, ſo haſt thou,
Thou, and thou, and thou: you haue ſeru'd me well,
And Kings haue beene your ſellowes.

Cleo. What means this?

Eno. 'Tis one of thatſe odde tricks which forow shoots
Out of the minde.

Ant. And thou art honest too:
I with I could be made ſo many men,
And all of you clapt vp together, in
An Anthony: that I might do you ſeruice,
So good as you haue done.

Owneſt.

360

The Tragedie of

He shall not heare thee, or from Cæsars Campe,
Say I am none of thine.

Ant. What fayeft thou?

Sold. Sir he is with Cæsar.

Eros. Sir, his Chefts and Treasur he has not with him.

Ant. Is he gone ?

Sol. Moft certaine.

Ant. Gg Eros, fend his Treasure after, do it,
Detaine no iot I charge thee : write to him,
(I will subferibe) gentle adieu's, and greetings;
Say, that I with he neuer finde more caufe
To change a Mafter. Oh my Fortunes haue
Corrupted honest men. Dispatch Enobarbus.

Exit

Flourish.
Enter Agrippa, Cæsar, with Enobarbus,
and Dollabella.

Caf. Go forth Agrippa, and begin the fight:
Our will is Anthony be tooke alive :
Make it so knowne.

Agrip. Cæsar, I shall.

Cæsar. The time of vnuiersall peace is neere:
Proue this a prof'rous day, the three nook'd world
Shall beare the Oliue freely.

Enter a Messenger.

Mef. Anthony is come into the Field.

Caf. Go charge Agrippa,

Plant thofe that haue revolted in the Vant,
That Anthony may feeme to Ipend his Fury
Vpon himselve.

Exeunt.

Enob. Alexas did reuolt, and went to Iewij on
Affaires of Anthony, there did diffwade
Great Herod to incline hims elfe to Cæsar,
And leaue his Mafter Anthony. For this paines,
Cæsar hath hang'd him: Camindius and the reft
That fell away, haue entertainment, but
No honourable truft: I haue done ill,
Of which I do accue my ſelſe ſo forely,
That I will joy no mote.

Enter a Soldier of Cæsar's.

Sol. Enobarbus, Anthony

Hath after thee ſent all thy Treasure, with
His Bounty ouer-plus. The Meſſenger
Came on my guard, and at thy Tent is now
Vloading of his Mules.

Eno. I giue it you.

Sol. Mocke not Enobarbus,

I tell you true: Beſt you faſt the bringer
Our of the hoaſt, I muſt attend mine Office,
Or would haue done't my ſelſe. Your Emperor
Continues ſill a Ioue.

Exit

Enob. I am alone the Villaine of the earth,
And ſeele I am moſt. Oh Anthony,
Thou Mine of Bounty, how would'ſt thou haue payed
My better ſeruice, when my turpitude
Thou doſt to Crowne with Gold. This blowes my hart,
If ſwift thought breake it not: a ſwifter meane
Shall our ſtrike thought, but thought will doo't. I ſeele
I fight againſt thee: No I will go ſeeke
Some Ditch, wherein to dye: the foul ſt beſt fits
My latter part of life.

Exit.

Alarum, Drummes and Trumpets.

Enter Agrippa.

Agrip. Retire, we haue engag'd our ſelues too farre:
Cæsar himſelfe his worke, and our oppreſſion
Exceeds what we expeſted.

Exit.

Alarums.
Enter Anthony, and Scarrus wounded.

Scar. O my braue Emperor, this is ſought indeed,
Had we done ſo at first, we had drouen them home
With clow tsabout their heads.

Far off.

Scar. I had a wound heere that was like a T,
But now'tis made an H.

Ant. They do retyre.

Scar. Wee'l beat 'em into Bench-holes, I haue yet
Roome for fix scorches more.

Enter Eros.

Eros. They are beaten Sir, and our aduantage ſerues
For a faire victory.

Scar. Let vs core their backes,
And ſnatch 'em vp, as we take Hares behinde,
'Tis ſport to maui a Runner.

Ant. I will reward thee
Once for thy ſprightly comfort, and ten-fold
For thy good valour. Come thee on;

Scar. Ile halt after.

Exeunt

Alarum. Enter Anthony againe in a March.
SCARRUE, with others.

Ant. We haue beate him to his Campe: Runne one
Before, & let the Queen know of our gueſts: to morrow
Before the Sun ſhall ſee's, wee'l ſpill the blood
That ha's to day eſcap'd. I thanke you all,
For doughtry handed are you, and haue ſought
Not as you ſeru'd the Caufe, but as't had beene
Each mans like mine: you haue ſhewne all Heltors,
Enter the City, clip your Wines, your Friends,
Tell them your ſeats, whil't they with ioyfull teares
Wash the congealement from your wounds, and kiffe
The Honour'd-gaſhles whole.

Enter Cleopatra.

Gie me thy hand,
To this great Fairie, Ile commend thy acts,
Make her thankes biſſe thee. Oh thou day o'th'world,
Chaine mine arm'd necke, leape thou, Attyre and all
Through proofe of Harneſſe to my heart, and there
Ride on the pants triumphing.

Cleo. Lord of Lords,

Oh infinite Vertue, comm'ſt thou smiling from?
The worlds great ſnare vncaught.

Ant. Mine Nightingale,
We haue beate them to their Beds.
What Gyrl, though gray

Do ſomthing mingle with our yonger brown, yet ha we
A Braine that nouriſhes our Nerves, and can
Get gole for gole of youth. Behold this man,
Commend vnto his Lippes thy ſavouring hand,
Kiffe it my Warriour: He hath ſought to day,
As ifa God in hate of Mankinde, had
Dethroyed in ſuch a shape.

Cleo. Ile giue thee Friend
An Armour all of Gold: it was a Kings.
Ant. He has deferu'd it, were it Carbunkled
Like holy Phœbus Carre. Gie me thy hand,
Through Alexandria make a iolly March,
Beare our hackt Targets, like the men that owe them.
Had our great Pallace the capacity
To Campe this hoaſt, we all would ſup together.
And drinke Carowſes to the next dayes Fate

Which

Anthony and Cleopatra.

361

Which promises Royall perill, Trumpeters
With brazen dinne blast you the Cities ea.e,
Make mingle with our ratling Tabourines,
That hauen and earth may strike their founds together,
Applauding our approach.
Exeunt.

Enter a Centerie, and his Company, Enobarbus follows.

Cent. If we be not releeu'd within this houre,
We muft returne to'th'Court of Guard : the night
Is fhiny, and they fay, we ſhall embattailè
By't h'efcond houre i'th'Morne.
I.Watch. This laſt day was a ſhrew'd one too's.

Enob. Oh beare me witneſſe night.

2 What man is this?

I Stand close, and lift him.

Enob. Be witneſſe to me (O thou bleſſed Moone)

When men reuolted ſhall vpon Record

Beare hateſull memory : poore Enobarbus did

Before thy face repent.

Cent. Enobarbus?

2 Peace: Hearke further.

Enob. Ouſeraigne Miftris of true Melancholly,
The poyſonous dampe of night diſpunge vpon me,
That Life, a very Rebell to my will,
May hang no longer on me. Throw my heart
Against the flint and hardneſſe of my fault,
Which being dried with greeſe, will breake to powder,
And finiſh all foule thoughts. Oh Anthony,
Nobler then my reuolt is Infamous,
Forgive me in thine owne particular,
But let the world ranke me in Regifter
A Maſter leauer, and a fugitive:

Oh Anthony! Oh Anthony!

I Let's ſpeake to him.

Cent. Let's heare him, for the things he ſpeakes
May concerne Caſar.

2 Let's do ſo, but he ſleepes.

Cent. Swoonds rather, for ſo bad a Prayer as his
Was neuer yet for ſleepe.

I Go we to him.

2 Awake, ſir, awake, ſpeake to vs.

I Heare you fir?

Cent. The hand of death hath rought him.

Drummes afarre off.

Hearke the Drummes demurely wake the ſleepers:
Let vs beare him to'th'Court of Guard : he is of note :
Our houre is fully out.

2 Come on then, he may recouer yet.

Exeunt

Enter Anthony and Scarrus, with their Army.

Ant. Their preparation is to day by Sea,
We pleafethem not by Land.

Scar. For both, my Lord.

Ant. I would they'd fight i'th'Fire, or i'th'Ayre,
Wee'd fight there too. But this it is, our Foote
Vpon the hilles adioyning to the Citry
Shall ſlay with vs. Order for Sea is giuen,
They haue put forth the Hauen:

Where their appointment we may beſt diſcouer,
And looke on their endeouour.

Exeunt

Enter Caſar, and his Army.

Caſ. But being charg'd, we will be fill by Land,
Which as I tak't we shall, for his beſt force
Is forth to Man his Gallies. To the Vales,

And hold our beſt aduantage.

Exeunt.

Alarum afarre off, as at a Sea-fight,
Enter Anthony, and Scarrus.

Ant. Yet they are not ioy'n'd:

Where yon'd Pine does stand, I ſhall diſcouer all.

Ile bring thee word ſtraight, how 'ris like to go.
exit.

Scar. Swallowes haue built

In Cleopatra's Sailes their neſts. The Auguries
Say, they know not, they cannot tell, looke grimly,
And dare not ſpeake their knowledge. Anthony,
Is valiant, and deic'd, and by ſtarts
His fretted Fortunes giue him hope and feare
Of what he has, and has nor.

Enter Anthony.

Ant. All is loſt:

This fowle Egyptian hath betrayed me;

My Fleete hath yeielded to the Foe, and yonder

They caſt their Caps vp, and Carowſe together

Like Friends long loſt. Triple-turn'd Whore, 'tis thou
Haſt ſold me to this Nouice, and my heart

Makes onely Warres on thee. Bid them all flye :

For when I am reueng'd upon my Charme,
Ihaue done all. Bid them all flye, be gone.

Oh Sunne, thy vprife ſhall I have no more,

Fortune, and Anthony part heere, euen heere

Do we ſake hands? All come to this? The heares.

That panelled me at heeles, to whom I gaue

Their wifhes, do diſ-Candie, melt their wjeets

On bloſſoming Caſar : And this Pine is barkt,
That ouer-top'd them all. Batray'd I am.

Oh this falſe Soule of Egypt ! this graue Charme,

Whofe eye beck'd forth my Wars, & ca'd them home:

Whofe Bofome was my Crownet, my chieſe end,

Like a right Gypſe, hath at ſaft and loose,

Beguil'd me, to the very heart of loffe.

What Eros, Eros?

Enter Cleopatra.

Ah, thou Spell! Auaue.

Cleo. Why is my Lord enag'd againſt his Loue?

Aot. Vanifh, or I ſhall giue thee thy deferuing,
And blemith Caſare Triumph. Let him take thee,
And hoſt thee vp to the ſhouting Plebeians,
Follow his Chariot, like the greateſt ſpot
Of all thy Sex. Moſt Monſter-like be (hewne
For poort) Diminitiues, for Dolts, and let

Patient Oſtanuia, plough thy viſage vp

With her prepared nailes.
'Tis well th'art gone,

exit Cleopatra.

If it be well to lue. But better 'were

Thou ſell it into my ſurie, for one death
Might haue prevented many. Eros, hoo ?
The ſhirt of Neſſus is vpon me, teach me

Alcides, thou mine Anceſtor, thy rage.
Let me lodge Licaſ on the horneſ o'th'Moone,

And with thoſe hands that graſp't the heauieſt Club,
Subdue my worthieſe ſelfe: The Witch ſhall die,

To the young Roman Boy ſhe hath ſold me, and I fall
Under this plot; ſhe Dyes for't. Eros hoo ?
exit.

Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Ira, Mardian.

Cleo. Helpe me my women: Oh hee's more mad
Then Telamon for his Shield, the Boare of Theſſaly
Was neuer ſo imboſt.

Char. To'th'Monument, there locke your ſelfe,
And ſend him word you are dead :

The

The Tragedie of

362

The Soule and Body riuе not more in parting,
Then greatneſſe going off.

Cleo. To th' Monument :

Mardian, go tell him I haue ſaine my ſelfe:
Say, that the laſt I spoke was Anthony,
And word it (prythee) pitteously. Hence Mardian,
And bring me how he takes my death to th' Monument.

Exeunt.

Enter Anthony, and Eros.

Ant. Eros, thou yet behold it me?

Eros. I Noble Lord.

Ant. Some time we see a clowd that's Dragonilſh,
A vapour sometime, like a Beare, or Lyon,
A toward Citradell, a pendant Rocke,
A forked Mountaine, or blew Promontorie
With Trees vpon't, that nodde vnto the world,
And mocke our eyes with Ayre.
Thou haſt ſeene theſe Signes,
They are blacke Vespers Pageants.

Eros. I my Lord.

Ant. That which is now a Horſe, euen with a thoght
the Racke diſlimes, and makes it indiſtinet
As water is in water.

Eros. It does my Lord.

Ant. My good Knaue Eros, now thy Captaine is
Euen ſuch a body: Heere I am Anthony,

Yet cannot hold this viſible ſhape (my Knaue)
I made theſe warres for Egypt, and the Queene,
Whose heart I thought I had, for ſhe had mine:
Which whil it was mine, had annext vntoo't
A Million moe, (now loſt:) ſhe Eros has
Packt Cards with Caſars, and ſalle plaid my Glory
Vnto an Enemies triumph.

Nay, weepe not gentle Eros, there is left vs
Our ſelues to end our ſelues.

Enter Mardian.

Oh thy vilde Lady, ſhe has rob'd me of my Sword.

Mar. No Anthony,

My Misſtris lou'd thee, and her Fortunes mingled
With thine intirely.

Ant. Hence ſawcy Eunuch peace, ſhe hath betraid me,
And shall dye the death.

Mar. Death of one perſon, can be paide but once,
And that ſhe ha's diſcharg'd. What thou would it do
Is done vnto thy hand: the laſt ſhe ſpake
Was Anthony, moſt Noble Anthony :

Then in the midd'ft a tearing groane did breake
The name of Anthony : it was diuided
Betweene her heart, and lips: ſhe rendred life
Thy name ſo buried in her.

Ant. Dead then?

Mar. Dead.

Ant. Vnname Eros, the long dayes taske is done,
And we muſt ſleepe: That thou depart it hence ſafe

Does pay thy labour richly: Go. exit Mardian.
Off, plucke off,

The leuen-fold ſhield of Aiax cannot keepe
The battery from my heart. Oh cleaue my ſides.

Heart, once be ſtronger then thy Continent,
Cracke thy fraile Cafe. Apace Eros, apace,
No more a Soldier: bruſed peeces go,

You haue bin Nobly borne. From me a while. exit Eros
I will o're-take thee Cleopatra, and

Weepe for my pardon. So it muſt be, for now
All length is Torture: ſince the Torch is out,

Lye downe and tray no farther. Now all labour

Marres what it does: yea, very force entangles
It ſelfe with ſtrength: Seale then, and all is done.

Eros? I come my Queene. Eros? Stay for me,
Where Soules do couch on Flowers, wee'l hand in hand,
And with our ſprightly Port make the Ghoſtes gaze:
Dido, and her Æneas, shall want Troopes,
And all the haunt be ours. Come Eros, Eros.

Enter Eros.

Eros. What would my Lord?

Ant. Since Cleopatra dyed,

I haue liu'd in ſuch diſhonour, that the Gods
Dereſt my baſeneſſe. I, that with my Sword,
Quarter'd the World, and o're greene Neptunes backe
With Ships, made Cities; condemne my ſelfe, to lacke
The Courage of a Woman, leſſe Noble minde
Then ſhe which by her death, our Caſar telles

I am Conqueror of my ſelfe. Thou art ſworne Eros,
That when the exigent ſhould come, which now
Is come indeed: When I should ſee behind me
Th' ineuitable ſproſecution of diſgrace and horror,
That on my command, thou then would it kill me.
Doo't, the time is come: Thou ſtrik it not me,
'Tis Caſar thou defeat it. Put colour in thy Cheeke.

Eros. The Gods with-hold me,
Shall I do that which all the Parthian Darts,
(Though Enemy) loſt ayme, and could not.

Ant. Eros,

Would it thou be window'd in great Rome, and ſee
Thy Maſter thus with pleacht Armes, bending downe
His corrigible necke, his face ſubdu'd
To penetratue ſhame; whil it the wheel'd ſeate
Of Fortunate Caſar drawne before him, branded
His Baſeneſſe that enfued.

Eros. I would not fee't.

Ant. Come then: for with a wound I muſt be cur'd.
Draw that thy honest Swoſd, which thou haſt worne
Moft vieſefull for thy Country.

Eros. Oh, ſir, pardon me.

Ant. When I did make theſe free, ſwor't it not then
To do this when I bad thee? Do it at once,
Or thy precedent ſeruices are all
But accidents vnpurpos'd. Draw, and come.

Eros. Turne from me then that Noble countenance,
Wherein the worſhip of the whole world lies.

Ant. Loe thee.

Eros. My Swoſd is drawne.

Ant. Then let it do at once

The thing why thou haſt drawne it.

Eros. My deere Maſter,

My Captaine, and my Emperor. Let me ſay
Before I ſtrike this bloody ſtroke, Farwell.

Ant. 'Tis faid man, and farewell.

Eros. Farewell great Chieſe. Shall I ſtrike now?

Killes himſelfe.

Ant. Now Eros.

Eros. Why there then :
Thus I do eſcape the ſorrow of Anthonies death!

Ant. Thrice-Nobler then my ſelfe,
Thou teacheſt me: Oh valiant Eros, what
I should, and thou could it not, my Queene and Eros
Haue by their braue inſtruction got vpon me
A Noblenefle in Record. But I will bee

A Bride-groome in my death, and run into't
As to a Louers bed. Come then, and Eros,
Thy Maſter dies thy Scholler; to do thus
I leart of thee. How, not dead? Nor dead?
The Guard, how? Oh diſpatch me.

Enter

Anthony and Cleopatra.

363

Enter a Guard.

I. **Guard.** What's the noife?

Ant. I haue done my worke ill Friends :

Oh make an end of what I haue begun.

2 The Starre is falne.

1 And time is at his Period.

All. Alas, and woe.

Ant. Let him that loues me, strike me dead.

1 Not I.

2 Nor I.

3 Nor any one.

Dercerus. Thy death and fortunes bid thy folowers fly
This sword but shewne to Caſar with this tydings,
Shall enter me with him.

Enter Diomedes.

Die. Where's Anthony?

Deere. There Diomed there.

Dion. Liues he: wilt thou not anſwer man?

Ant. Art thou there Diomed?

Draw thy Sword, and giue mee,

Suffiing Strokes for death.

Diom. Moſt absolue Lord :

My Miftris Cleopatra ſent me to thee.

Ant. When did ſhee ſend thee?

Diom. Now my Lord.

Auth. Where is ſhe ?

exennt

Diom. Lockt in her Monument: ſhe had a Propheſying
Of what hath come to paſſe: for when ſhe ſaw
(Which neuer ſhall be found) you did ſuſpect
She had diſpos'd with Caſar, and that your rage
Would not be purg'd, ſhe ſent you word ſhe was dead:
But fearing ſince how it might worke, hath ſent
Me to proclaime the truth, and I am come
I dread, too late.

Ant. Too late good Diomed : call my Guard I pythee.
Dio. What hoa: the Emperors Guard,

The Guard, what hoa ? Come, your Lord calles.

Enter 4. or 5. of the Guard of Anthony.

Ant. Beare me good Friends where Cleopatra bides,
'Tis the laſt ſeruice that I ſhall command you.

1 Woe, woe are we, you may not liue to weare
All your true Followers out.

All. Moſt heavy day.

Ant. Nay good my Fellowes, do not plesse ſharp ſate
To grace it with your forrowes. Bid that welcome
Which comes to puniſh vs, and we puniſh it
Seeming to beare it lightly. Take me vp,
I haue led you oft, carry me now good Friends,
And haue my thankses for all.

Exit bearing Anthony

Enter Cleopatra, and her Maides aloft, with
Charmian & Iras.

Cleo. Oh Charmian, I will neuer go from hence.

Char. Be comforted deere Madam.

Cleo. No, I will not :

All ſtrange and terrible events are welcome,
But comforts we diſpife; our ſize of ſorrow
Proportion'd to our cauſe, muſt be as great
As that which makes it.

Enter Diomed.

How now? is he dead ?

Dion. His death's upon him, but not dead.
Looke out o'th other ſide your Monument,
His Guard haue brought him thither.

Enter Anthony, and the Guard.

Cleo. Oh Sunne,

Burne the great Sphere thou mouſt in, darkling ſtand
The varrying shore o' th' world. O Anthony, Anthony,
Helpe Charmian, helpe Iras helpe : helpe Friends
Below, let's draw him hither.

Ant. Peace,
Not Caſars Valour hath o'rethrowne Anthony,
But Anthonie's hath Triumph on it ſelſe.

Cleo. So it ſhould be,
That none but Anthony ſhould conquer Anthony,
But woe't is so.

Ant. I am dying Egypt, dying : onely
I heere importune death a while, vntill
Of many thouſand kiffes, the poore laſt
I lay vpon thy lippes.

Cleo. I dare not Deere,
Deere my Lord pardon : I dare not,
Leaſt I be taken : nor th' Imperious ſhew
Of the full-Fortun'd Caſar, euer ſhall
Be brooch'd with me, if Knife, Drugges, Serpents haue
Edge, ſting, or operation. I am ſafe:
Your Wife Oſtania, with her modeſt eyes,
And ſtill Conſulſion, ſhall acquire no Honour
Demurring vpon me: but come, come Anthony,
Helpe me my women, we muſt draw the e p :

Affift good Friends.

Ant. Oh quickie, or I am gone.
Cleo. Heere's ſport indeede :
How heavy weighs my Lord?
Our ſtrength is all gone into heauineſſe,
That makes the waight. Had I great Inno's power,
The ſtrong wing'd Mercury ſhould fetch thee vp,
And fet thee by Ioues ſide. Yet come a little,
Wifhers were euer Fooles. Oh come, come, come,

They heaus Anthony aloft to Cleopatra.

And welcome, welcome. Dye when thou haſt liu'd,
Quicken with kiffing : had my lippes that power,
Thus would I wear e them out.

All. A heavy fight.

Ant. I am dying Egypt, dying.

Giue me some Wine, and let me speake a little.

Cleo. No, let me speake, and let me rayle so ſhy,
That the false Huiswife Fortune, breake her Wheele,
Prouok'd by my offence.

Ant. One word (sweet Queene)

Of Caſar ſeeke your Honour, with your ſafety. Oh.

Cleo. They do not go together.

Ant. Gentle heare me,

None about Caſar truſt, but Proculieus.

Cleo. My Reſolution, and my hands, Ile truſt,
None about Caſar.

Ant. The miferable change now at my end, ?
Lament nor ſorrow at: but plesse you ſ thoughts
In feeding them with thofe my former Fortunes
Wherein I liu'd. The greatest Prince o' th' world,
The Nobleft: and do now not bafely dye,
Not Cowardly put off my Helmet to
My Countrieyman. A Roman, by a Roman
Valiantly vanquifh'd. Now my Spirit is going,
I can no more.

Cleo. Nobleft of men, woo't dye ?
Haſt thou no care of me, that I abide
In this dull world, which in thy abſence is
No better than a Stye ? Oh fee my women :

The Crowne o' th' earth doth melt. My Lord?
Oh wither'd is the Garland of the Warre,

The

364

The Tragedie of

The Souldiers pole is falne : young Boyes and Gyres
Are leuell now with men : The oddes is gone,
And there is nothing left remarkable
Beneath the visiting Moone.

Char. Oh quietneſſe, Lady.

Iras. She's dead too, our Soueraigne.

Char. Lady.

Iras. Madam.

Char. Oh Madam, Madam, Madam.

Iras. Royall Egypt : Empresse.

Char. Peace, peace, Iras.

Cleo. No more but in a Woman, and commanded
By ſuch poore paffion, as the Maid that Milkes,
And doe's the meaneſt chares. It were for me,
To throw my Scepter at the inuurious Gods,
To tell them that this World did equall theyrs,
Till they had ſolne our Jewell. All's but naught :
Patience is ſottroph, and inpatience does
Become a Dogge that's mad : Then is it ſinne,
To ruff into the secreſt houſe of death,
Ere death dare come to vs. How do you Women?
What, what good cheere? Why how now Charmian?
My Noble Gyres? Ah Women, women ! Looke
Our Lampe is ſpent, it's out. Good firſ, take heart,
Wee'l bury him : And then, what's braue, what's Noble,
Let's doo't after the high Roman fashion,
And make death proud to take vs. Come, away,
This cafe of that huge Spi'it now is cold,
Ah Women, Women ! Come, we haue no Friend
But Reſolution, and the breeſeft end.

Exeunt, bearing of Anthonie's body.

Enter Caſar, Agrippa, Dollabella, Menas, with
bis Counſell of Warre.

Caſar. Go to him Dollabella, bid him yeeld,
Being so fruſtrate, tell him,
He mockes the pawſes that he makes.

Dol. Caſar, I ſhall.

Enter Decretas with the sword of Anthony.

Caſ. Wherefore is that? And what art thou that dar't
Appeare thus to vs?

Dec. I am call'd Decretas,
Marke Anthony I ſeru'd, who beſt was worthie
Bect to be ſeru'd : whil't he ſtood vp, and ſpoke
He was my Maſter, and I wore my life
To ſpend vpon his haters. If thou pleaſe
To take me to thee, as I was to him,
Ile be to Caſar : if ſy pleaſet not, I yeild thee vp my life.

Caſar. What is't thou ſay't?

Dec. I ſay (Oh Caſar) Anthony is dead.

Caſ. The breaking of ſo great a thing, I should make
A greater cracker. The round World
Should have ſhooke Lyons into ciuill ſreets,
And Citizeens to their dennes. The death of Anthony
Is not a single dome, in the name lay.

A moity of the world.

Dec. He is dead Caſar,

Not by a publick minifter of Iſtice.

Nor by a hyred Knife, but that ſelfe-hand

Which writ his Honor in the Acts it did,

Hath with the Courage which the heart did lend it,
Splitted the heart. This is his Sword,

I robb'd his wound of it; hehold it stain'd
With his moſt Noble blood.

Caſ. Looke you ſad Friends,

The Gods rebuke me, but it is Tydings
To wash the eyes of Kings.

Dol. And ſtrange it is.

That Nature muſt compell vs to lament
Our moſt perſifted deeds.

Caſ. His taints and Honours, waſ'd equal with him.

Dola. A Rarer ſpirit neuer

Did ſteere humanity : but you Gods will giue vs
Some faults to make vs men. Caſar is touch'd.

Caſ. When ſuch a ſpacious Mirror's ſet before him,
He needes muſt fee him ſelfe.

Caſar. Oh Anthony,

I haue followed thee to this, but we do launch
Difeaſes in our Bodies. I muſt perſorce
Haue ſhewne to thee ſuch a declining day,
O't lookee on thine : we could not fall together,
In the whole world. But yet let me lament
With teares as Soueraigne as the blood of hearts,
That thou my Brother, my Competitor,
In top of all deſigne ; my Mate in Empire,
Friend and Companion in the front of Warre,
The Arme of mine owne Body, and the Heart
Where mine his thoughts did kindle; that our Starres
Vneconciliable, should diuide our equalneſſe to this,
Heare me good Friends,
But I will tell you at ſome meeter Season,
The buſineſſe of this man looks out of him,
Wee'l heare him what he ſayes.

Enter an Egyptian.

Whence are you?

Aegypt. A poore Egyptian yet, the Queen my miſtris
Confin'd in all, ſhe has her Monument
Of thy intents, deſires, inſtruction,
That ſhe preparedly may frame her ſelfe
To'th'way ſhees ſor'd too.

Caſar. Bid her haue good heart,
She ſoone ſhall know of vs, by ſome of ours,
How honourable, and how kindely Wee
Determine for her. For Caſar cannot leau'e to be vngente
Aegypt. So the Gods preferue thee.

Caſ. Come hither Proculineu. Go and ſay

We purpufe her no ſhame : giue her what comforta
The quality of her paffion ſhall require ;
Leaſt in her greatneſſe, by ſome mortall itroke
She do deſeace vs. For her life in Rome,
Would be eternall in our Triumph: Go,
And with your ſpeedieſt bring vs what ſhe ſayes,
And how you ſinde of her.

Pro. Caſar I ſhall.

Exit Proculineu.

Caſ. Gallus, go you along : where's Dolabella, to ſe-
cond Proculineu?

All. Dolabella.

Caſ. Let him alone : for I remember now
How hee's imployd : he ſhall in time be ready,
Go with me to my Tent, where you ſhall fee
How hardly I was drawne into this Warre,
How calme and gentle I proceeded ſtill
In all my Writings. Go with me, and ſee
What I can ſhew in this.

Exeunt.

Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Iras, and Mardius.

Cleo. My defolation does begin to make
A better life : Tis paltry to be Caſar :
Not being Fortune, hee's but Fortunes knane,
A minifter of her will: and it is great

To

Anthony and Cleopatra.

365

To do that thing that ends all other deeds,
Which shackles accedents, and bolts vp change;
Which sleepes, and neuer pallates more the dung,
The beggers Nurfe, and Cafars.

*Enter Proculieus.*

Pro. Cæsar sends greeting to the Queene of Egypt,
And bids thee fludy on what faire demands
Thou meanst to haue him grant thee.

Cleo. What's thy name?

Pro. My name is Proculieus.

Cleo. Anthony

Did tell one of you, bad me trust you, but
I do not greatly care to be deceu'd
That haue no vfe for trusting. If your Maſter

Would haue a Queece his begger, you muſt tell him,
That Maiety to keepe decorum, muſt

No leſſe begge then a Kingdome: If he pleafe
To giue me conquer'd Egypt for my Sonne,

He giues me ſo much of mine owne, as I
Will kneele to him with thankes.

Pro. Be of good cheere :

Y'are falne into a Princely hand, ſcare nothing,
Make your full reference freely to my Lord,

Who is ſo full of Grace, that it flowes ouer
On all that neede. Let me report to him

Your ſweet dependacie, and you ſhall finde
A Conqueror that will play in ayde for kindneſſe,

Where he for grace is kneel'd too,

Cleo. Pray you tell him,

I am his Fortunes Vafall, and I ſend him

The Greatneſſe he has got. I hourely leane
A Doſtrine of Obedience, and would gladly

Looke him i'th'Face.

Pro. This ile report (deere Lady)

Hae comfort, for I know your plight is pittried
Of him that cauſd it.

Pro. You ſee how easily ſhe may be surpriz'd :

Guard her till Cæſar come.

Iras. Royall Queene.

Char. Oli Cleopatra, thou art taken Queene.

Cleo. Quicke, quicke, good hands.

Pro. Hold worthy Lady, hold :

Do not your ſelſe ſuch wrong, who are in this

Releeu'd, but not betraid.

Cleo. What of death too that rids our dogs of languifl

Pro. Cleopatra, do not abufe my Maſters bounty, by

Th'undoing of your ſelſe : Let the World ſee
His Noblenſe well aſted, which your death

Will neuer let come forth.

Cleo. Where art thou Death?

Come hither come ; Come, come, and take a Queene

Worth many Babes and Beggers.

Pro. Oh temperance Lady,

Cleo. Sir, I will eate no meate, Ile not drinke ſir,

If I did talke will once be neceſſary
He not sleepe neither. This mortall houſe I leine,

Do Cæſar what he can. Know ſir, that I

Will not waite pinnion'd at your Maſlers Court,
Nor once be chaſtli'd with the ſober eye

Of dull Oſtania. Shall they honyſt me vp,

And ſhew me to the ſhowing Varlotarie
Of confuring Rome? Rather a ditch in Egypt.

Be gentle graue vnto me, rather on Nylus muddè

Lay me flatke-nak'd, and let the water-Flies

Blow me into abbotting; rather make

My Countries high pyramides my Gibber,

And hang me vp in Chaines.

Pro. You do extend

These thoughts of horror further then you shall
Finde cauſe in Cæsar.

*Enter Dolabella.*

Dol. Proculieus,

What thou haſt done, thy Maſter Cæſar knowes,

And he hath ſent for thee: for the Queene,

He take her to my Guard.

Pro. So Dolabella,

It ſhall content me beſt: Be gentle to her,

To Cæſar I will ſpeake, what you ſhall pleafe,

If you'll imploy me to him.

*Exit Proculieus.*

Cleo. Say, I would dye.

Dol. Mott Noble Emprefſe, you haue heard of me.

Cleo. I cannot tell.

Dol. Affuredly you know me.

Cleo. No matter fir, what I haue heard or knowne :

You laugh when Boyes or Women tell their Dreaues,
Is't not your tricke?

Dol. I vnderſtand not, Madam.

Cleo. I dreaſt there was an Emperor Anthony.

Oh ſuch another sleepe, that I might fee

But ſuch another man.

Dol. If it might pleafe ye.

Cleo. His face was as the Heau'ns, and therein ſlueke

A Sunne and Moone, which kept their course, & lighted

The little o'th' earth.

Dol. Mott Souveraigne Creature.

Cleo. His legges beſtirid the Ocean his rear'd anme

Crefred the world: His voyce was propertied

As all the tuned Spheres, and that to Frienes :

But when he meant to quaiſe, and ſhake the Orbe,

He was raſtling Thunder. For his Bounſt,

There was no winter in't. An Anthony it was,

That grew the more by reaping : His delights

Were Dolphin-like, they ſhew'd his backe aboute

The Element they liu'd in: In his Liuerie

Walk'd Crowneſs and Crownets: Realms & Ilands were

As plates dropt from his pocket.

Dol. Cleopatra.

Cleo. Thinke you there was, or might be ſuch a man

As this I dreaſt of?

Dol. Gentle Madam, no.

Cleo. You Lye vp to the hearing of the Gods :

But if there be, nor euer were one ſuch

It's paſt the ſize of dreaming : Nature wants ſtuffe

To vie ſtrange ſormes with ſancie, yet't imagine

An Anthony were Natures peece, 'gainſt Fancie,

Condemning ſhadows quite.

Dol. Heare me, good Madam :

Your loffe is as your ſelſe, great; and you beare it

As anſwering to the waight, would I might neuer

Ore-take purſ'u'd ſuccelle : But I do ſeelè

By the rebound of yours, a greeſe that ſuites

My very heart at roote.

Cleo. I thanke you fir :

Know you what Cæſar means to do with me?

Dol. I am loath to tell you what, I would you knew.

Cleo. Nay, pray you fir.

Dol. Though he be Honourable,

Cleo. Hee'll leade me then in Triumph.

Dol. Madam he will, I know't.

Flourish.

*Enter Proculieus, Cæsar, Gallus, Aecenæs,*

and others of his Traines.

All. Make way there Cæsar.

Z. Z.

Cæſar

The Tragedie of

366

Cæs. Which is the Queene of Egypt.

Dol. It is the Emperor Madam.

Cleo. kneeles.

Cæsar. Arise, you shall not kneele :

I pray you rife, rie Egypt.

Cleo. Sir, the Gods will haue it thus,

My Mafter and my Lord I muft obey,

Cæsar. Take to you no hard thoughts,

The Record of what inuities you did vs,

Though written in our flesh, we shall remember
As things but done by chance.

Cleo. Sole Sir O'ch'World,

I cannot proie't mine owne cause so well

To make it cleare, but do confesse I haue

Bene laden with like frailties, which before

Hae often shain'd our Sex.

Cæsar. Cleopatra know,

We will extenuate rather then inforce :

If you apply your selfe to our intents,

Which towards you are most gentle, you shall finde

A benefit in this change : but if you keepe

To lay on me a Cruelty, by taking

Anthony's course, you shall bereue your selfe.

Of my good purpofes, and put your children

To that deſtruction which Ile guard them from,

If thereon you relye. I le take my leaue.

Cleo. And may through all the world : tis yours, & we
your Scutcheons, and your lignes of Conqueſt shall
Hang in what place you pleafe. Here my good Lord.

Cæsar. You shall aduife me in all for Cleopatra.

Cleo. This is the breeſe : of Money, Plate, & lewels

I am poſſed of, 'tis exaſtly valewed!

Not petty things admitted. Where's Seleucus ?

Selen. Where's Madam.

Cleo. This is my Treasurer, let him ſpeake (my Lord)

Vpon his perill, that I haue referu'd

To my ſelfe nothing. Speake the truth Seleucus.

Selen. Madam, I had rather feele my flippes,

Then to my perill ſpeake that which is not.

Cleo. What haue I kept backe.

Sel. Enough to purchafe what you haue made known

Cæsar. Nay bluſh not Cleopatra, I approue

Your Wifedome in the deede.

Cleo. See Cæsar : Oh behold,

How pompe is followed : Mine will now be yours,
And should we shift eſtates, yours would be mine.

The ingratitude of this Seleucus, does

Euen make me wilde. Oh Slaue, of no more truſt

Then loue that's hyr'd? What goeſt thou backe, ſhalt

Go backe I warrant thee: but Ie catch thine eyes

Though they had wings. Slaue, Soule-leſſe, Villain, Dog.
O rarely bale !

Cæsar. Good Queene, let vs intreat you.

Cleo. O Cæsar, what a wounding ſhame is this,
That thou vouchſaſing heere to viſit me,
Doing the Honour of thy Lordlineſſe

To one so meek, that mine owne Servant should
Parcell the ſumme of my diſgraces, by
Addition of his Envy. Say (good Cæsar)

That I some Lady trifles haue referu'd,

Immemp toyes, things of ſuch Dignitie

As we greet moderne friends withall, and ſay

Some Nobler token I haue kept apart

For Linia and Otiliau, to induce

Their mediation, muſt I be unfolded

With one that I haue bred: The Gods! it ſimites me
Beneath the fall I haue. Prythee go hence,

Or I shall ſhow the Cynders of my ſpirits

Through th' Affairs of my chance: 'Wert thou a man,
Thou would'ſt haue mercy on me.

Cæsar. Forbeare Seleucius.

Cleo. Be it known, that we the greateſt are miſ-thought
For things that others do : and when we fall,

We anſwer others merits, in our name

Are therefore to be pitied.

Cæsar. Cleopatra,

Not what you haue referu'd, nor what acknowledg'd

Put we'ch Roll of Conqueſt: ſtill bee't yours,

Befow it at your pleasure, and beleeue

Cæſars no Merchant, to make prize with you

Of things that Merchants fold. Therefore be cheer'd,
Make not your thoughts your prifons: No deere Queen,
For we intend to diſpoſe you, as

Your ſelfe shall giue vs counſell: Feede, and ſleepe :

Our care and pitty is ſo much vpon you,

That we remaine your Friend, and to adieu.

Cleo. My Maſter, and my Lord.

Cæsar. Not to: Adieu.

Flourish to,

Exenunt Cæsar, and his Traine,

Cleo. He words me Gyrles, he words me,

That I should not be Noble to my ſelfe.

But hearke thee Charmian.

Iras. Finiſh good Lady, the bright day is done,
And we are for the darke.

Cleo. Hye th' e againe,

I haue ſpoke already, and it is prouided,

Go put it to the haſte.

Char. Madam, I will.

Enter Dolabella.

Dol. Where's the Queene?

Char. Behold fir.

Cleo. Dolabella.

Dol. Madam, as thereto ſworne, by your command
(Which my loue makes Religion to obey)

I tell you this : Cæsar through Syriæ

Intends his iourey, and within three dayes,
You with your Children will he ſend before,
Make your beſt vſe of this. I haue perform'd
Your pleaſure, and my promitle.

Cleo. Dolabella, I shall remaine your debter.

Dol. I your Servant.

Exit

Adieu good Queene, I muſt attend on Cæsar.

Cleo. Farewell, and thankes.

Now Iraſ, what think'ſt thou?

Thou, an Egyptian Puppet ſhall be ſhewne

In Rome alſwell as I : Mechanicke Slaues

With greazie Aprons, Rules, and Hammers ſhall

Vplift vs to the view. In their thicke breathes,

Ranke of greſſe dyet. ſhall we be encloſed,

And fore'd to drinke their vapour.

Iraſ. The Gods forbid.

Cleo. Nay, 'tis moſt certaine Iraſ: ſawcie Lictors
Will catch at vs like Strumpets, and ſcald Rimers
Ballads vs out a Tune. The quicke Comedians
Extemporally will ſtage vs, and preſent

Our Alexandrian Reuelſ : Anthony

Shall be brought drunken forth, and I ſhall ſee

Some ſqueaking Cleopatra Boy my greatneſſe
I'ch' poſture of a Whore.

Iraſ. O the good Gods!

Cleo. Nay that's certaine.

Iraſ. Ile neuer ſee't? for I am ſure mine Nailes
Are stronger then mine eyes.

Cleo.

Anthony and Cleopatra.

367

Cleo. Why that's the way to fool their preparation,
And to conquer their most absurd intents.

Enter Charmian.

Now Charmian.

Shew me my Women like a Queene: Go fetch
My best Attyres. I am againe for Cidrus,
To meete Marke Anthony. Sirra Iras, go

(Now Noble Charmian, weel' dispatch indeede.)

And when thou haft done this chare, Ile give thee leaue
To play till Doomefday: bring our Crowne, and all.

A noise within.

Wherefore's this noife?

Enter a Guardsmann.

Gardf. Heere is a rurall Fellow,
That will not be deny'de your Highnesse prefence,
He brings you Figges.

Cleo. Let him come in.
What poore an Instrument

Exit Guardsmann.

May do a Noble deede: he brings me liberty:

My Refolution's plac'd, and I haue nothing

Of woman in me: Now from head to foote

I am Marble conftant: now the fleeting Moone
No Planet is of mine.

Enter Guardsmann and Clowne.

Cleof. This is the man.

Cleo. Avoid, and leaue him.

Exit Guardsmann.

Hast thou the pretty worme of Nylus there,
That killes and paines not?

Clow. Truly I haue him: but I would not be the part-
tie that should desire you to touch him, for his bying is
immortall: that hee doth dye of it, doe feldome or ne-
uer recouer.

Cleo. Remember't thou any that haue dyed on't?

Clow. Very many, men and women too. I heard of
one of them no longer then yefferday, a very honett wo-
man, but something giuen to lye, as a woman should not
do, but in the way of honefty, how she dyed of the by-
ting of it, what paine she felt: Truely, she makes a verie
good report o'th'worme : but he that will beleeue all that
they fay, shall neuer be faued by halfe that they do : but
this is moft falliable, the Worme's an odde Worme.

Cleo. Get thee hence, farewell.

Clow. I wifh you all ioy of the Worme.

Cleo. Farewell.

Clow. You muft thinke this (looke you,) that the
Worme will do his kinde.

Cleo. I, I, farewell.

Clow. Looke you, the Worme is not to bee trufted,
but in the keeping of wife people : for indeede, there is
no goodnesse in the Worme.

Cleo. Take thou no care, it shall be heeded.

Clow. Very good: giue it nothing I pray you, for it
is not worth the feeding.

Cleo. Will it eate me?

Clow. You muft not think I am so fimple, but I know
the diuell himfelfe will not eate a woman : I know, that
a woman is a diſh for the Gods, if the diuell drefſe her
not. But truly, these fame whorfon diuels doe the Gods
great harme in their women: for in euery tenne that they
make, the diuels marre ſiue.

Cleo. Well, get thee gone, farewell.

Clow. Yes forfooth: I wifh you ioy o'th'worm. Exit

Cleo. Giue me my Robe, put on my Crowne, I haue
Immortall longings in me. Now no more

The iuyce of Egypts Grape shall moyſt this lip.

Yare, yare, good Iras; quicke: Me thinkes I heare

Anthony call: I fee him rowſe himſelfe

To praife my Noble A&. I heare him mock.

The lucke of Cæsar, which the Gods giue men

To excufe their after wrath. Husband, I come:

Now to that name, my Courage proue my Title.

I am Fire, and Ayre; my other Elements

I giue to baſer life. So, haue you done?

Come then, and take the laſt warmth of my Lippes.

Farewell kinde Charmian, Iras, long farewell.

Haeu I the Aſpикe in my lippes? Doſt fall?

If thou, and Nature can ſo gently part,

The stroke of death is as a Louers pinch,

Which hurts, and is defir'd. Doſt thou lye ſtill ſ?

If thus thou vanisheſt, thou tell'st the world,

It is not worth leaue-taking.

Char. Diffoule thickc clowd, & Raine, that I may ſay
The Gods themſelves do weepe.

Cleo. This proues me bafe:

If she firſt meete the Curled Anthony,

Hee' make demand of her, and ſpend that kiffie

Which is my heauen to haue. Come thou mortal wretch,

With thy ſharpe teeth this knot incrinſcate,

Of life at once vnyte: Pooravenous Foole,

Be angry, and diſpatch. Oh could'ſt thou ſpeake,

That I might heare thee call great Cæsar Aſſe, vnpolicieſ,

Char. On Eafterne Starre.

Cleo. Peace, peace:

Doſt thou not fee my Baby at my break,

That fuckes the Nurſe aſſepe.

Char. O breake! O breake!

Cleo. As sweet as Balme, as ſoft as Ayre, as gentle,

O Anthony! Nay! I will take thee too.

What should I ſlay—

Dyes.

Char. In this wilde World? So fare thee well!

Now boaſt thee Death, in thy poſſion lyes

A Laſſe vnparalell'd. Downie Windowse cloze,

And golden Phœbus, neuer be beheld

O ſeyes againe ſo Royall: your Crownes away,

Ile mend it, and then play—

Enter the Guardruſting in, and Dolabella.

1. Guard. Where's the Queene?

Char. Speake toſily, wake her not.

1. Cæsar hath ſent

Char. Too ſlow a Meſsenger.

Oh come apace, diſpatch, I partly feele thee.

1. Approach hoa,

All's not well: Cæsar's beguild.

2. There's Dolabella ſent from Cæsar: call him.

1. What worke is heere Charmian?

Is this well done?

Char. It is well done, and fitting for a Princeſſe

Defended of ſo many Royall Kings,

Ah Souldier.

Charmian dyes.

Enter Dolabella.

Dol. How goes it heere?

2. Guard. All dead.

Dol. Cæsar, thy thoughts

Touch their effects in this: Thy ſelfe art comming

To fee perform'd the dreaded A& which thou

So fought'ſt to hinder.

Enter Cæsar and all his Trains, marching.

All. A way there, a way for Cæsar.

22 2

Del.

368 The Tragedie of Anthony and Cleopatra.

Dol. Oh fir, you are too fure an Augurer:
That you did feare, is done.

Cæsar. Braueſt at the laſt,
She ſeuell'd at our purpofes, and being Royall
Tooke her owne way : the manner of their deaths,
I do not ſee them bleede.

Dol. Who was laſt with them?

I. **Guard.** A ſimple Countryman, that brought hit Figs;
This was his Basker.

Cæsar. Poyſon'd then.

I. **Guard.** Oh Cæsar :
This Charmian liu'd but now, ſhe flood and ſpake :
I found her trimming vp the Diadem;
On her dead Miftris tremblingly ſhe flood,
And on the ſodaine dropt.

Cæsar. Oh Noble weakenſe :
If they had ſwallow'd poyſon, 'twould appeare
By externall ſwelling: but ſhe looks like ſleepe,
As ſhe would catch another Anthony
In her ſtrong toyle of Grace.

Dol. Heere on her breſt,
There is a vent of Bloud, and ſomething blowne,
The like is on her Arme.

I. **Guard.** This is an Aſpickes traile,
And theſe Figge-leaues haue ſime vpon them, ſuch
As th' Aſpikke leaues vpon the Caues of Nyle.

Cæsar. Moſt probable
That to ſhe dyed: for her Phyſitian ſels mee
She hath purſu'd Conclusions infinite
Of ſeafie wayes to dye. Take vp her bed,
And beare her Women from the Monument,
She ſhall be buried by her Anthony.
No Graue vpon the earth ſhall clip in it
A payre ſo famous: high euent as theſe
Strike thoſe that make them : and their Story is
No leſſe in pitty, then his Glory which
Brought them to be lamented. Our Army ſhall
In ſolemne ſhew, attend this Funerall,
And then to Rome. Come Dolabella, see
High Order, in this great Solmemnity.

Exeunt armes

FINIS.

THE TRAGEDIE OF
CYMBELINE.

Actus Primus. Scena Prima.

Enter two Gentlemen.

1. Gent.

On do not meet a man but Frownes.
Our bloods no more obey the Heavens
Then our Courtiers:
Still seeme, as do's the Kings.

2 Gent. But what's the matter?

1. His daughter, and the heire of's kingdome (whom He purpos'd to his wives sole Sonne, a Widdow That late he married) hath referr'd her selfe Vnto a poore, but worthy Gentleman. She's wedded, Her Husband banisht; the imprisonment, all Is outward forrow, though I thinke the King Be touch'd at very heart.

2 None but the King?

1 He that hath left her too: so is the Queene, That moft defir'd the Match. But not a Courtier, Although they weare their faces to the bent Of the Kings lookes, hath a heart that is not Glad at the thing they fowle at.

2 And why fo?

1 He that hath mifs'd the Princeſſe, is a thing Too bad, for bad report: and he that hath her, (I meane, that married her, alacke good man, And therefore banisht') is a Creature, ſuch, As to feeke through the Regions of the Earth For one, his like, there would be ſomething failing In him, that should compare. I do not thinke, So faire an Outward, and ſuch ſtuffe Within Endowes a man, but hee.

2 You ſpeak him farre.

1 I do extend him (Sir) within himſelfe, Cruſh him together, rather then vnfold His measure duly.

2 What's his name, and Birth?

1 I cannot delue him to the roote: His Father Was call'd Sicillius, who did ioyne his Honor Against the Romanes, with Caſſibulan, But had his Titles by Tenantius, whom He feru'd with Glory, and admir'd Succeſſe: So gaind the Sur-addition, Leonatus. And had (befides this Gentleman in queſtion) Two other Sonnes, who in the Warres o'th' time Dy'd with their Swords in hand. For which, their Father Then old, and fond of ſtuffe, tooke ſuch forrow That he quit Being; and his gentle Lady

Bigge of this Gentleman (our Theame) deceaſt As he was borne. The King he takes the Babe To his protection, cals him Poſſumus Leonatus, Breedes him, and makes him of his Bed-chamber, Puts to him all the Learnings that his time Could make him the receiuer of, which he tooke As we do ayre, ſaſt as 'twas miniftr'd, And in's Spring, became a Harueſt: Liu'd in Court (Which rare it is to do) moſt prais'd, moſt lou'd, A ſample to the yongeſt: to th' more Mature, A glaſſe that feated them: and to the grauer, A Childe that guided Dotards. To his Miftris, (For whom he now is banisht') her owne price Prolaimeſ how ſhe eſſeem'd him; and his Vertue By her election may be truly read, what kind of man he is.

2 I honor him, euen out of your report.

But pray you tell me, is the ſole childe to' th' King?

1 His onely childe:

He had two Sonnes (if this be worth your hearing, Marke it) the eldeſt of them, at three yeares old I'ch'wathing cloathes, the other from their Nurſery Were ſtaine, and to this houre, no gheſſe in knowledge Which way they went.

2 How long is this ago?

1 Some twenty yeares.

2 That a Kings Children ſhould be so conuey'd, So ſlackely guarded, and the ſearech so ſlow That could not trace them.

1 How ſoere, 'tis ſtrange, Or that the negligence may well be laugh'd at: Yet is it true Sir.

2 I do well beleeue you.

1 We must forbeare. Heere comes the Gentleman, The Queene, and Princeſſe.

Scena Secunda.

Enter the Queene, Poſſumus, and Imogen.

Qu. No, be affur'd you shall not finde me (Daughter) After the ſlander of moſt Step-Mothers, Euill-ey'd vnto you. You're my Prifoner, but Your Gaoler shall deliuer you the keyes

z. z. 3

That

The Tragedie of Cymbeline.

370

That locke vp your restraint. For you Pesshummus,
So soone as I can win th'offended King,
I will be knowne your Aduocate: marry yet
The fire of Rage is in him, and 'twere good
You lean'd vnto his Sentence, with what patience
Your wifedome may informe you.

Poff. 'Please your Highnesse,
I will from hence to day.

Qu. You know the perill:
Ile fetch a turne about the Garden, pitting
The pangs of barr'd Affections, though the King
Hath charg'd you should not fpeake together.

Exit

Imo. O disflembling Curtesie! How fine this Tyrant
Can tickle where she wounds? My deereft Husband,
I something feare my Fathers wrath, but nothing
(Alwayes referu'd my holy duty) what
His rage can do on me. You must be gone,
And I shall heere abide the hourly shot
Of angry eyes: not comforted to liue,
But that there is this Jewell in the world,
That I may fee againe.

Poff. My Queene, my Miftris:
O Lady, weepen no more, least I giue caufe
To be fuspected of more tenderneſſe
Then doth become a man. I will remaine
The loyall ſt husband, that did ere plight troth,
My ſtidence in Rome, at one Filorius',
Who, to my Father was a Friend, to me
Knowne but by Letter; thither write (my Queene)
And with mine eyes, Ile drinke the words you ſend,
Though Inke be made of Gall.

Enter Queene.

Qu. Be briefe, I pray you:
If the King come, I ſhall incurre, I know not
How much of his displeasure: yet I leue him'
To walke this way: I neuer do him wrong,
But he do's buy my Injuries, to be Friends:
Payes deere for my offences.

Poff. Should we be taking leaue
As long a terme as yet we hane to liue,
The loathneſſe to depart, would grow: Adieu.

Imo. Nav, stay a little:
Were you but riding forth to ayre your ſelfe,
Such parting were too petty. Looke heere (Loue)
This Diamond was my Mothers; take it (Heart)
But keepe it till you woo another Wife,
When Imogen is dead.

Poff. How, how? Another?
You gentle Gods, giue me but this I haue,
And ſeare vp my embracements from a next,
With bonds of death. Remaine, remaine thou heere,
While ſenſe can keepe it on: And ſweeteſt, faireſt,
As I (my poore ſelfe) did exchange for you
To your ſo infinite loffe; ſo in our trifles
I ſtill winne of you. For my ſake weare this,
It is a Manacle of Loue, Ile place it
Vpon this fayre ſt Prisoner.

Imo. O the Gods !
When ſhall we fee againe?

Enter Cymbeline, and Lords.

Poff. Alacke, the King.

Cym. Thou bafeſt thing, auoyd hence, from my fight:
If after this command thou fraught the Court
With thy vnworthineſſe, thou dyeſt. Away,
Thou'rt payſon to my blood.

Poff. The Gods proteet you,

And bleſſe the good Remainders of the Court:
I am gone.

Exit.

Imo. There cannot be a pinch in death
More ſharpe then this is.

Cym. O diſloyall thing,
That should ſt repayre my youth, thou heap it
A yeares age on me.

Imo. I beſeech you Sir,
Harme not your ſelſe with your vexation,
I am ſenſeleſſe of your Wrath; a Touch more rare
Subdues all pangs, all feares.

Cym. Paſt Grace ? Obedience?
Imo. Paſt hope, and in diſpaire, that way paſt Grace,
Cym. That might it haue had

The ſole Sonne of my Queene.

Imo. O bleſſed, that I might not: I choſe an Eagle,
And did auoyd a Puttocke.

Cym. Thou tookt it a Begger, would it haue made my
Throne, a Seate for baſeneſſe.

Imo. No, I rather added a luſt re to it.

Cym. O thou vilde one !

Imo. Sir,

It is your fault that I haue lou'd Poffhumus:
You bred him as my Play-fellow, and he is
A man, worth any woman: Ouer-buys mee
Almost the ſumm'e he payes.

Cym. What? art thou mant ?

Imo. Almost Sir: Heauen reſtore me: would I were
A Neat-heards Daughter, and my Leonatus
Our Neighbour-Shepheards Sonne.

Enter Queene.

Cym. Thou foolish thing;
They were againe together: you haue done
Not after our command. Away with her,
And pen her vp.

Qu. Befeefe your patience: Peace
Deere Lady daughter, peace. Sweet Soueraigne,
Leaue vs to our ſelues, and make your ſelfe ſome comfort
Out of your beſt aduice.

Cym. Nay, let her languish
A drop of blood a day, and being aged
Dye of this Folly.

Exit.

Enter Pisanio.

Qu. Iye, you muſt giue way:
Heere is your ſeruant. How now Sir? What newes?

Pisa. My Lord your Sonne, drew on my Maſter.

Qu. Hah?

No harme I truſt is done?

Pisa. There might haue beene,
But that my Maſter rather plaid, then fought,
And had no helpe of Anger: they were parted
By Gentlemen, at hand.

Qu. I am very glad on't.
Imo. Your Son's my Fathers friend, he takes his part
To draw vpon an Exile. O braue Sir,
I would they were in Affricke both together,
My ſelſe by with a Needle, that I might pricke
The goer backe. Why came you from your Maſter?

Pisa. On his command: he would not ſuffer mee

To bring him to the Hauen: left theſe Notes
Of what commands I should be ſubieſt too,
When't pleas'd you to employ me.

Qu. This bath beene
Your faithfull ſeruant: I dare lay mine Honour
He will remaine ſo.

Pisa. I humbly thanke your Highneſſe.

Qu.

The Tragedy of Cymbeline.

372

to extend him, be it but to fortifie her judgement, which
elfe an eafe battery might lay flat, for taking a Begger
without leffe quality. But how comes it, he is to foiourne
with you? How creepes acquaintance ?

Phil. His Father and I were Souldiers together, to
whom I haue bin often bound for no leffe then my life.

Enter Posthumus.

Heere comes the Britaine. Let him be so entertained a-
mong it you, as suites with Gentlemen of your knowing,
to a Stranger of his quality. I befeech you all be better
knowne to this Gentleman, whom I commend to you,
as a Noble Friend of mine. How Worthy he is, I will
leave to appeare hereafter, rather then flory him in his
owne hearing.

French. Sir, we haue knowne togethier in Orleance.

Post. Since when, I haue bin debtor to you for courtesies, which I will be euer to pay, and yet pay full.

French. Sir, you o're-rate my poore kindneſſe, I was
glad I did attone my Countryman and you; it had beene
pitty you ſhould haue beene put together, with ſo mor-
tall a purpose, as then each bore, vpon importance of ſo
flight and triuiall a nature.

Post. By your pardon Sir, I was then a young Traueller, rather ſhun'd to go even with what I heard, then in my euery action to be guided by others experiences: but vpon my mended judgement (if I offend to fay it is mened) my Quarrell was not altogether flight.

French. Faith yes, to be put to the arbitement of
Swords, and by such two, that would by all likelyhood
haue confounded one the other, or haue faune both.

Iach. Can we with manners, aske what was the difference ?

French. Safely, I thinke, 'twas a contention in publicke, which may (without contradiction) suffer the report. It was much like an argument that fell out last night, where each of vs fell in praise of our Country-Miftreffes. This Gentleman, at that time vouching (and vpon warrant of bloody affirmation) his to be more Faire, Vertuous, Wife, Chafte, Conſtant, Qualified, and leſſe attemptible then any, the rareſt of our Ladies in Fraunce.

Iach. That Lady is not now liuing; or this Gentlemen opinion by this, worne out.

Post. She holds her Vertue full, and I my mind.

Iach. You muſt not ſo farre preferre her, 'fore ours of Italy.

Posth. Being ſo farre prouok'd as I was in France: I would abate her nothing, though I professe my ſelfe her Adorer, not her Friend.

Iach. As faire, and as good: a kind of hand in hand
comparifon, had beene something too faire, and too
good for any Lady in Britanie; if ſhe went before others.
I haue ſeene as that Diamond of yours out-luſters many
I haue beheld, I could not beleuee ſhe excelled many:
but I haue not ſeene the moſt pietious Diamond that is,
nor you the Lady.

Post. I prais'd her, as I rated her: ſo do I my Stone.

Iach. What do you eſteeme it at?

Post. More then the world enioyes.

Iach. Either your vnparagon'd Miftirs is dead, or
ſhe's out-priz'd by a trifle.

Post. You are miſtaken: the one may be ſolde or giuen, or if there were wealth enough for the purchafes, or merite for the guift. The other is not a thing for ſale, and onely the guift of the Gods.

Iach. Which the Gods haue giuen you?

Post. Which by their Graces I will keepe.

Iach. You may weare her in title yours: but you
know ſtrange Fowle light vpon neighbouring Ponds.
Your Ring may be ſtolne too, to your brace of vnprizea-
ble Eſtimations, the one is but frail, and the other Caſu-
all. A cunning Thieſe, or a (that way) accompliſh'd
Courtier, would hazzard the winning both of firſt and
laſt.

Post. Your Italy, containes none ſo accompliſh'd a
Courtier to convince the Honour of my Miftirs: if in the
holding or leſſe of that, you terme her frail, I do no-
thing doubt you haue ſtore of Theeues, notwithstanding
I fe are not my Ring.

Phil. Let vs leaue heere, Gentlemen?

Post. Sir, with all my heart. This worthy Signior I
thanke him, makes no ſtranger of me, we are familiar at
firſt.

Iach. With ſiue times ſo much conuerſation, I ſhould
get ground of your faire Miftirs; make her go backe, eu-
uen to the yeilding, had I admittance, and opportunitie
to friend.

Post. No, no.

Iach. I dare thereupon pawne the moytie of my E-
ſtate, to your Ring, which in my opinion o're-values it
fomething: but I make my wager rather againſt your
Confidence, then her Reputation. And to barre your of-
fence heere in to, I durſt attempt it againſt any Lady in
the world.

Post. You are a great deale abus'd in too bold a per-
ſwafion, and I doubt not you ſuſtaine what y're worthy
of, by your Attempt.

Iach. What's that ?

Posth. A Repuſe though your Attempt (as you call it) deferue more; a puniſhment too.

Phi. Gentlemen enough of this, it came in too fo-
dainely, let it dye as it was borne, and I pray you be bet-
ter acquainted.

Iach. Would I had put my Eſtate, and my Neighbors
on th'approbation of what I haue ſpoke,

Post. What Lady would you chufe to affaile?

Iach. Yours, whom in conſtancie you thinke ſtands
ſo ſafe, I will lay you ten thouſands Ducks to your
Ring, that commend me to the Court where your La-
dy is, with no more aduantage then the opportunitie of a
fecon'd conference, and I will bring from thence, that
Honor of her, which you imagine ſo referu'd.

Posthumus. I will wage againſt your Gold, Gold to
it: My Ring I holde deere as my ſinger, 'tis part of it.

Iach. You are a Friend, and there in the wifer: if you
buy Ladies ſleſh at a Million a Draa, you cannot pre-
ſeure it from tainting; but I ſee you haue ſome Religion
in you, that you fear.

Posthu. This is but a cuſtome in your tongue: you
beare a grauer purpofe I hope.

Iach. I am the Maſter of my ſpecches, and would vn-
der-go what's ſpoken, I weare.

Posthu. Will you? I ſhall but lend my Diamond till
your returne: let there be Couenants drawne between's.
My Miftirs exceedes in goodneſſe, the hugeneſſe of your
vnworthy thinking, I dare you to this match: heere's my
Ring.

Phil. I will haue it no lay.

Iach. By the God's it is one: if I bring you ſuffi-
cient testimony that I haue enioy'd the deereft bodily
part of your Miftirs: my ten thouſand Ducks are yon's.

The Tragedy of Cymbeline.

## Scena Septima.

Enter Imogen alone.

Imo. A Father cruel, and a Stepdame falle,
A Foolish Suitor to a Wedded-Lady,
That hat her Husband banifh'd: O, that Husband,
My SUPREAME Crowne of griefe, and thofe repeated
Vexations of it. Had I bin Theefe-foinne,
As my two Brothers, happy: but moft miferable
Is the defires that's glorious. Bleffed be thofe
How meane fo ere, that haue their honest wills,
Which feafons comfort. Who may this be? Fye.

Enter Pifanio, and Iachimo.

Pifao. Madam, a Noble Gentleman of Rome.
Comes from my Lord with Letters.

Iach. Change you, Madam :
The Worthy Leonatus is in fafety,
And greetes your Highneſſe deerely.

Imo. Thanks good Sir,
You're kindly welcome.

Iach. All of her, that is out of doore, moſt rich :
If she be furnifh'd with a mind ſo rare
She is alone th' Arabian-Bird; and I
Haue loft the wager. Boldneſſe be my Friend :
Arme me Audacitie from head to foote,
Or like the Parthian I ſhall flying fight,
Rather direāly fly.

Imogen reads.

He is one of the Noble ſt note, to whose kindneſſes I am moſt in-
finiteſt tied. Reflect upon him accordingly, as you value your
truffe.
Leonatus.

So farre I reade aloud.

But euen the very middle of my heart
Is warm'd by'th' reſt, and take it thankefully.

You are as welcome (worthy Sir) as I
Haue words to bid you, and ſhall finde it ſo

In all that I can do.

Iach. Thankes faireſt Lady :

What are men mad? Hath Nature giuen them eyes
To fee this vaulted Arch, and the rich Crop
Of Sea and Land, which can diſtinguifh'twixt
The firie Orbes aboue, and the twinn'd Stones

Vpon the number'd Beach, and can we not
Partition make with Spectales ſo pretious
Twixt faire, and foule ?

Imo. What makes your admiration ?

Iach. It cannot be i' th' eye: for Apes, and Monkeys
'Twixt two ſuch She's, would chatter this way, and
Contemne with mowes the other. Nor i'th' judgment :

For Idiots in this cafe of fauour, would
Be wifely definit: Nor i'th' Appetite.
Sluttery to ſuch neate Excellence, oppos'd
Should make defire vomit emptineſſe,
Nor ſo allur'd to feed.

Imo. What is the matter trow ?

Iach. The Cloyed will :
That fatiate yet vnſatifi'd defire, that Tub
Both fill'd and running: Rauening firſt the Lambe,
Longs after the Garbage.

Imo. What, deere Sir,
Thus rap's you? Are you well?

Iach. Thanks Madam well: Befeech you Sir,
Defire my Man's abode, where I did leaue him:
He's ſtrange and peeuifh.

Pifao. I was going Sir,
To giue him welcome.

Imo. Continues well my Lord?

His health beſeech you ?

Iach. Well, Madam.

Imo. Is he diſpo'd to mirth ? I hope he is,
Iach. Exceeding pleafant: none a ſtranger there,
So merry, and ſo gameſome: he is call'd
The Britaine Reueller.

Imo. When he was heere
He did incline to sadneſſe, and oft times
Not knowiug why.

Iach. I neuer ſaw him ſad.

There is a Frenchman his Companion, one
An eminent Monfieur, that it feemes much loues
A Gallian-Girtle at home. He furnaces

The thickc ſighes from him; whiles the iolly Britaine,
(Your Lord meane) laughes from his free lungs ſries oh,
Can my ſides hold, to think that man who knowes

By Hiftory, Report, or his owne proofe
What woman is, yea what ſhe cannot chooſe

But muſt be will's free hours languifh:

For affured ſonage ?

Imo. Will my Lord ſay ſo?

Iach. I Madam, with his eyes in flood, with laughter,
It is a Recreation to be by

And heare him mocke the Frenchman:

But Heauen's know ſome men are much too blame.

Imo. Not he I hope.

Iach. Not he :

But yet Heauen's bounty towards him, might
Be vs'd more thankfully. In himſelfe 'tis much,
In you, which I account his beyond all Talents.

Whilft I am bound to wonder, I am bound
To pitty too.

Imo. What do you pitty Sir ?

Iach. Two Creatures heartily.

Imo. Am I one Sir?

You looke on me: what wrack diſcerne you in me
Deſtues your pitty ?

Iach. Lamentable: what

To hide me from the radiant Sun, and folace
I' th' Dungeon by a Snuffe.

Imo. I pray you Sir,

Deliver with more openneſſe your anſweres
To my demands. Why do you pitty me ?

Iach. That others do,

(I was about to ſay) enioy your —but
It is an office of the Gods to venge it,
Not mine to ſpeake on't.

Imo. You do ſee me to know

Something of me, or what concernes me; pray you
Since doubting things go ill, often hurts more
Then to be ſure they do. For Certainties
Either are paſt remedies; or timely knowing,
The remedy then borne. Discouer to me
What both you ſpur and ſtop.

Iach. Had I this cheeke

To bathe my lips vpon this hand, whose touch,
(Whofe euery touch) would force the feelers foule
To'th' oath of loyalty. This obiect, which
Takes prifoner the wild motion of mine eye,
Fiering it onely heere, should I (damn'd then)

Slanes

The Tragedy of Cymbeline.

375

S lauer with lippes as common as the flytres

That mount the Capitoll: Ioyne gripes, with hands
Made hard with hourly falshood (falhood as
With labour:) then by peeping in an eye
Bafe and illufrions as the smoakie light
That's fed with flinking Tallow: it were fit
That all the plagues of Hell should at one time
Encounter such reuolt.

Imo. My Lord, I feare

Has forgot Brittraine.

Iach. And himselfe, not I

Inclin'd to this intelligence, pronounce

The Beggery of his change: but 'tis your Graces'
That from my muteft Conscience, to my tongue,
Charmes this report out.

Imo. Let me heare no more.

Iach. O deereft Soule: your Caufe doth strike my hart
With pitty, that doth make me fiffe. A Lady
So faire, and fasten'd to an Emperie
Would make the great'ft King double, to be partner'd
With Tomboyes hyr'd, with that ſelfe exhibition
Which your owne Coffers yeeld: with difeas'd ventures
That play with all Infirmities for Gold,
Which rottenneſſe can lend Nature. Such boyl'd ſtuffe
As well might poyſon Poyſon. Be reueng'd,
Or the that bore you, was no Queene, and you
Recoyle from your great Stocke.

Imo. Reueng'd?

How should I be reueng'd? If this be true,
(As I have such a Heart, that both mine eares
Moft not in haſte abuse) if it be true,
How should I be reueng'd?

Iach. Should he make me

Liuie like Diana's Prief, betwixt cold ſheets,
Whiles he is vaulting variable Rampes
In your deipight, vpon your purſe: reuenge it.
I dedicate my ſelfe to your ſweet pleafure,
More Noble then that runnagate to your bed,
And will continue ſaft to your Affection,
Still close, as ſure.

Imo. What hoa, Pifanio ?

Iach. Let me my ſervicender tender on your lippes.

Imo. Away, I do condemne mine eares, that haue
So long attended thee. If thou wert Honourable
Thou would'ſt haue told this tale for Vertue, not
For ſuch an end thou ſeek'ſt, as bafe, as ſtrange:
Thou wrong'ſt a Gentleman, who is as farre
From thy report, as thou from Honor: and
Solicites heere a Lady, that diſdaines
Thee, and the Diuell alike. What hoa, Pifanio ?
The King my Father ſhall be made acquainted
Of thy Aſſault: if he ſhall thinke it fit,
A fawcy Stranger in his Court, to Mart
As in a Romiſh Stew, and to expound
His beaſtly minde to vs; he hath a Court
He little cares for, and a Daughter, who
He not reſpects at all. What hoa, Pifanio ?

Iach. O happy Leonates! I may ſay,
The credit that thy Lady hath of thee
Deferues thy truſt, and thy moſt perfect goodneſſe
Her allur'd credit. Blessed liue you long,
A Lady to the worthiſt Sir, that euer
Country call'd his; and you his Miftris, only
For the moſt worthiſt ſit. Giue me your pardon,
I haue ſpoke this to know if your Affiance
Were deeply rooted, and ſhall make your Lord,

That which he is, new o're: And he is one

The trueſt manner'd: ſuch a holy Witch,

That he enchants Societies into him:

Halſe all men hearts are his.

Imo. You make amends.

Iach. He ſits, mongſt men, like a defended God;
He hath a kinde of Honor fets him off,

More then a mortall ſeeming. Be not angrie
(Moft mighty Princesſe) that I have aduentur'd
To try your taking of a falſereport, which hath
Honour'd with confirmation your great Iudgement,

In the election of a Sir, ſo rare,

Which you know, cannot erre. The loue I beare him,
Made me to fan you thus, but the God's made you
(Vslike all others) chaffeſſe. Pray your pardon.

Imo. All's well Sir :

Take my powre i'th'Court for yours.

Iach. My humble thankes: I had almost ſorgot
T'intreat your Grace, but in a ſmall requeſt,

And yet of moment too, for it concernes:

Your Lord, my ſelfe, and other Noble Friends

Are partners in the buſineſſe.

Imo. Pray what's't?

Iach. Some dozen Romanes of vs, and your Lord
(The beſt Feather of our wing) have mingled ſummes
To buy a Prefent for the Emperor:

Which I (the Faſtor for the reſl) haue done

In France: 'tis Plate of rare decice, and Jewels

Oſrich, and exquifite ſorme, their valewes great,

And I am something curious, being ſtrange

To haue them in ſafe ſtowage: May it please you

To take them in protection.

Imo. Willingly:

And pawne mine Honor for their ſafety, ſince.

My Lord hath intereſt in them, I will keepe them

In my Bed-chamber.

Iach. They are in a Trunke

Attended by my men: I will make bold

To ſend them to you, onely for this night:

I muſt aboord to morrow.

Imo. O no, no.

Iach. Yes, I beſeech: or I ſhall ſhort my word

By lengthning my returne. From Gallia,

I croſt the Seas on purpose, and on promife.

To fee your Grace.

Imo. I thanke you for your paines :

But not away to morrow.

Iach. O I muſt Madam.

Therefore I ſhall beſeech you, if you pleafe

To greet your Lord with writing, doo't to night,

I haue out-ſlood my time, which is materiall

To'fh'tender of our Prefent.

Imo. I will write:

Send your Trunke to me, it ſhall ſafe be kept,

And truely yceded you: you're very welcome.

Exemt.

Actus Secundus. Scena Prima.

Enter Clotten, and the two Lords.

Clot. Was there euer man had ſuch lucke? when I kiff
the lacke vpon an vp-caſt, to be hit away? I had a hun-
dred pound on't: and then a whorfon Iacke-an-Ape,
muft

["The Tragedy of Cymbeline.", "376", "must take me vp for swearing, as if I borrowed mine\noathes of him, and might not spend them at my pleasure.", "1. What got he by that ? you haue broke his pate\nwith your Bowle.", "2. If his wit had bin like him that broke it: it would\nhaue run all out.", "Clot. When a Gentleman is dispos'd to sware: it is\nnot for any flanders by to curtail his oathes. Ha?", "2. No my Lord; nor crop the cares of them.", "Clot. Whorfon dog: I gaue him satisfaction? would\nhe had bin one of my Ranke.", "2. To haue smell'd like a Foole.", "Clot. I am not vext more at any thing in th'earth: a\npox on't. I had rather not be so Noble as I am: they dare\nnot fight with me, because of the Queene my Mo-\nther: every Incke-Slaue hath his belly full of Fighting,\nand I muft go vp and downe like a Cock, that no body\ncan match.", "2. You are Cocke and Capon too, and you crow\nCock, with your combe on.", "Clot. Sayest thou ?", "2. It is not fit: you Lordship should undertake every\nCompanion, that you giue offence too.", "Clot. No, I know that: but it is fit I should commit\noffence to my inferiors.", "2. I, it is fit for your Lordship onely.", "Clot. Why so I say.", "1. Did you heere of a Stranger that's come to Court\nnight?", "Clot. A Stranger, and I not know on't?", "2. He's a strange Fellow himselfe, and knowes it not.", "1. There's an Italian come, and 'is thought one of\nLeomatus Friends.", "Clot. Leomatus? A banisht Rascall; and he's another,\nwhatfoeuer he be. Who told you of this Stranger?", "1. One of your Lordships Pages.", "Clot. Is it fit I went to looke vpon him? Is there no\nde⁴⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰

The Tragedie of Cymbeline.

377

Winning will put any man into courage: if I could get
this foolish Imogen, I should haue Gold enough: it's al-
most morning, is't not?

1 Day, my Lord.

Clot. I would this Muficke would come: I am adu-
fed to give her Muficke a mornings, they fay it will pen-
trate.

Enter Mufitans.

Come on, tune: If you can penetrate her with your fin-
gering, so: we'll try with tongue too: if none will do, let
her remaine: but Ile neuer giue o're. Firft, a very excel-
lent good conceyted thing; after a wonderful sweet aire,
with admirable rich words to it, and then let her confi-
der.

SONG.

Hearke, hearke, the Larke at Heauens gate fings;
and Phœbus gins arife,

His Steeds to water at those Springs
on chalic'd Flowrest that Lyes:

And winking Mary-buds begin to ope their Golden eyes
With euery thing that pretty is, my Lady sweet arife:

Arife, arife.

So, get you gone: if this pen trate, I will confider your Muficke the better: if it do not, it is a voyce in her eares which Horfe-haires, and Calues-guts, nor the voyce of vnpaue Eunuch to boot, can neuer amed.

Enter Cymbaline, and Queene.

2 Heere comes the King.

Clot. I am glad I was vp folate, for that's the reafon
I was vp fo earely: he cannot choose but take this Ser-
uitce I haue done, fatherly. Good morrow to your Ma-
iefty, and to my gracious Mother.

Cym. Attend you here the doore of our Fern daughter
Will she not forth?

Clot. I haue affayld her with Mufickes, but she vouch-
fases no notice.

Cym. The Exile of her Minion is too new,
She hath not yet forgot him, some more time
Muft weare the print of his remembrance on't,
And then she's yours.

Qu. You are most bound to'th'King,
Who let's go by no vantages, that may
Preferre you to his daughter: Frame your felfe
To orderly folicity, and be friended
With aptneſſe of the feafon: make denials
Enceafe your Seruices: to ſeeme, as if
You were inſpird to do those duties which
You tender to her: that you in all obey her,
Sae when command to your diſmission tends,
And therein you are ſenſeſſe.

Clot. Senſeſſe? Not so.

Mef. So like you (Sir) Ambaſſadors from Rome;
The one is Caines Luciss.

Cym. A worthy Fellow,

Albeit he comes on angry purpofe now;
But that's no fault of his: we muſt receyue him

According to the Honor of his Sender,
And towards himſelfe, his goodneſſe fore ſpent on vs
We muſt extend our notice: Our deere Sonne,
When you haue giuen good morning to your Miftris,
Attend the Queene, and vs, we shall haue neede
T'employ you towards this Romane.

Come our Queene.

Clot. If ſhe be vp, Ile ſpeake with her: if not
Let her lye ſill, and dreame: by your leaue hoa,
I know her women are about her: what

If I do line one of their hands, 'tis Gold

Which buyes admittance (oft it doth) yes, and makes
Diana's Rangers falſe themſelues, yeeld vp

Their Deere to'ch'land o'ch'Stealer: and 'tis Gold

Which makes the True-man kill'd, and ſaues the Theeſe:
Nay, ſometime hangs both Theeſe, and True-man: what
Can it not do, and vndoo? I will make
One of her women Lawyer to me, for
I yet not vnderstand the caſe my ſelfe.

By your leaue.

Enter a Lady.

La. Who's there that knockes?

Clot. A Gentleman.

La. No more.

Clot. Yes, and a Gentlewomans Sonne.

La. That's more

Then ſome whole Taylors are as deere as yours,

Can iuſtly boaſt of: what's your: Lordships pleafure?

Clot. Your Ladies perſon, is ſhe ready?

La. I, to keepe her Chamben

Clot. There is Gold for you,

Sell me your good report.

La. How, my good name? or to report of you
What I ſhall thinke is good. The Princeſſe.

Enter Imogen.

Clot. Good morrow faireſt, Sifter your ſweet hand,

Imo. Good morrow Sir, you lay out too much paines
For purchasing but trouble: the thanks I giue,
Is telling you that I am poore of thanks,
And ſcarle can ſpare them.

Clot. Still I ſweare I love you,

Imo. If you but faid fo, 'twere as deepe with me:
If you ſweare ſill, your recompence is full
That I regard it not.

Clot. This is no anſwer.

Imo. But that you ſhall not ſay, I yeeld being ſilent,
I would not ſpeake. I pray you ſpare me, 'faith
I ſhall vnfold equall diſcourteſe

To your best kindneſſe: one of your great knowing
She u'd leare (being taught) forbearance.

Clot. To leaue you in your madneſſe, 'twere e my fin,
I will not.

Imo. Fooies are not mad Folker.

Clot. Do you call me Foole ?

Imo. As I amm ad I do:

If you'l be patient, Ile no more be mad,

That cures vs both. I am much forry (Sir)

You put me to forget a Ladies manners

By being ſo verball: and leare now, for all,

That I which know my heart, do heer: pronounce

By th' very truth of it, I care not for you,

And am ſo neere the lacque of Charitie

To accufe my ſelfe, I hate you: which I had rather

You felt, then make't my boaſt.

Clot. You finne againſt

Obedience, which you owe your Father, for
The Contraſt you pretend with that bare Wretch,
One, bred of Almes, and foster'd with cold diſtresse,
With feraps o'ch'Court: It is no Contraſt, none!

And though it be allowed in meaner parties

(Yet who then he more meane) to knit their ſoules

(On whom there is no more dependancie
But Brats and Beſſery) in ſelfe-figur'd knot,

Yet you are curd'd from that enlargement, by

aaa

The

The Tragedy of Cymbeline.

The consequence of't; Crowne, and must not foyle
The precious note of it; with a bare Slue,

A Hiding for a Liuorie, a Squires Cloth,

A Pantler; not so eminent.

Imo. Prophanee Fellow :

Wert thou the Sonne of *Inpiter*, and no more,
But what thou art befides: thou wer't too bafe,
To be his Groome: thou wer't dignified enough
Euen to the point of Enuie. If'twere made
Comparative for your Vertues, to be fit'd
The vnder Hangman of his Kingdome; and hated
For being prefer'd so well.

Clot. The South-Fog rot him.

Imo. He neuer can meete more mifchance, then come
To be but nam'd of thee. His mean'ft Garment
That euer hath but elipt his body; is dearer
In my reſpect, then all the Heires aboue thee,
Were they all made ſuch men: How now Pisanio ?

Enter Pisanio,

Clot. His Garments ? Now the diuell.

Imo. To Dorothy my woman hie thee prefentely.

Clot. His Garment ?

Imo. I am ſprighted with a Foole,
Frighted, and angred worſe: Go bid my woman
Search for a lewell, that too cauallly
Hath leſe mine Arme : it was thy Maſters. Shrew me
If I would looke it for a Reuenew.
Of any Kings in Europe. I do think,
If Iaw't this morning: Confident I am.
Laſt night 'twas on mine Arme; I kifs'd it,
I hope it be not gone, to tell my Lord
That I kiffe aught but he.

Pif. 'Twill not be loſt.

Imo. I hope ſo : go and ſearch,

Clot. You haue abus'd me :

His meaneſt Garment ?

Imo. I, I faid to Sir,

If you will make't an Action, call witneſſe to't.

Clot. I will enſorme your Father.

Imo. Your Mother too :

She's my good Lady; and will conciewe, I hope
But the worſt of me. So I leaue your Sir,
To'th'worſt of discontent.

Clot. Ile bereueng'd :

His mean'ft Garment ? Well.

Exit.

Exit.

## Scena Quarta.

Enter Posthumus, and Philario.

Poſt. Feare it not Sir: I would I were ſo free
To winne the King, as I am bold, her Honour
Will remaine her's.

Phil. What meanes do you make to him ?

Poſt. Not any : but abide the change of Time,
Quake in the preſent winters ſtate, and with
That warmer dayes would come : In theſe fear'd hope
I barely gratiſe your lone; they ſayling

I muſt die much your debtor.

Phil. Your very goodneſſe, and your company,
Ore-payes all I can do. By this your King,
Hath heard of Great Augustus : Cains Lucius,
Will do's Commiffion throughly. And I think

Hee'le grant the Tribute : ſend th'Arrerages,
Or looke vpon our Romaines, whose ſemembrance
Is yet freſh in their griefe.

Poſt. I do beleeue

(Statift though I am none, nor like to be)
That this will proue a Warre; and you ſhall heare
The Legion now in Gallia, looner landed

In our not-fearing-Britaine, then haue tydings
Of any penny Tribute paid. Our Countrymen
Are men more order'd, then, then when Iulius Caſar

Smil'd at their lacke of skill, but found their courage
Worthy his frowning at. Their diſcipline,
(Now wing-led with their courages) will make knowne
To their Approuers, they are People, ſuch

That 'mend upon the world.

That 'mend upon the world.

Phi. See Iachimo.

Enter Iachimo.

Poſt. The ſwifteſt Hartes, haue poſted you by land;
And Windes of all the Corners kifs'd your Sails,
To make your veſſell nimble.

Phil. Welcome Sir.

Poſt. I hope the briefeneſſe of your anſwere, made
The ſpeedineſſe of your returne.

Iach. Your Lady,

Is one of the fayreſt that I haue look'd vpon

Poſt. And therewithall the beſt, or let her beauty
Looke thorough a Caſement to allure false hearts,
And be falſe with them.

Iach. Heere are Letters for you.

Poſt. Their tenure good I truſt.

Iach. 'Tis very like,

Poſt. Was Cains Lucius in the Britaine Court,
When you were there?

Iach. He was expeſted then,
But not approach'd.

Poſt. All is well yet,
Sparkles this Stone as it was wont, or is not

Too dull for your good wearing?

Iach. If I haue loſt it,
I should haue loſt the worth of it in Gold,
Ile make a journey twice as farre, t'enjoy
A ſecon'd night of ſuch ſweet ſhorteneſſe, which
Was mine in Britaine, for the Ring is wonne.

Poſt. The Stones too hard to come by.

Iach. Not a whit,
Your Lady being ſo faſely.

Poſt. Make note Sir

Your loffe, your Sport : I hope you know that we
Must not continue Friends.

Iach. Good Sir, we muſt
If you keepe Couenant: had I not brought
The knowledge of your Miftris home, I grant
We were to question farther; but I now
Proſeſſemy ſelfe the winner of her Honor,
Together with your Ring; and not the wronger
Of her, or you having proceeded but
By both your willes.

Poſt. If you can mak't apparant
That you haue taſted her in Bed; my hand,
And Ring is yours. If not, the foule opinion
You had of her pure Honour, gaineſ, or loofes,
Your Swoſd, or mine, or Maſterleſſe leaue both
To who ſhall finde them.

Iach. Sir, my Circumſtances
Being ſo nere the Truth, as I will make them,
Must firſt induceth you to beleeue; whole ſtrength
I will confirme wit h oath, which I doubt not.

Yor

The Tragedie of Cymbeline.

389

You'll giue me leaue to spare, when you shall finde
YOUNEede it not.

Poſt. Proceed.

Iach. First, her Bed-chamber

(Where I confeſſe I Slept not, but proſeſſe
Had that was well worth watching) it was hang'd
With Tapiftry of ſiike, and Siluer, the Story
Proud Cleopatra, when ſhe met her Roman,
And S'dnus ſwell'd aboue the Bankes, or for
The preſſe of Boates, or Price. A peecce of Worke
So braely done, ſo rich, that it did ſtrine
In Workemanship, and Value, which I wonder'd
Could be so rarely, and exacely wrought
Since the true life on't was—

Poſt. This is true:
And this you might haue heard of heere, by me,
Or by ſome other.

Iach. More particulars

Muſt inſuſiſe my knowledge.

Poſt. So they muſt,
Or do your Honour inuury.

Iach. The Chimney

Is South the Chamber, and the Chimney-peece
Chaſte Dian, bathing : neuer ſaw I figures
So likely to report themſelues ; the Cutter
Was as another Nature dumbe, out-went her,
Motion, and Breath left out.

Poſt. This is a thing

Which you might from Relation likewife reape,
Being, as it is, much ſpoke of.

Iach. The Roofe o'th'Chamber,
With golden Cherubins is fretted. Her Andirons
(I had forgot them) were two winking Cupids
Of Siluer, each on one foote ſtanding, nicely
Depending on their Brands.

Poſt. This is her Honor :

Let it be granted you haue ſeene all this (and praeſe
Be giuen to your remembrance) the deſcription
Of what is in her Chamber, nothing ſaues

The wager you haue laid.

Iach. Then if you can

Be pale, I begge but leaue to ayre this Iewell: See,
And now 'tis vp againe : it muſt be married
To that your Diamond, Ile keepe them.

Poſt. Ioue—

Once more let me behold it: Is it that
Which I left with her?

Iach. Sir (I thanke her) that

She ſtript it from her Arme : I fee her yer :
Her pretty Action, did out-fell her guift,
And yet enrich'd it too: ſhe gaue it me,
And faid, ſhe priz'd it once.

Poſt. May be, ſhe pluck'd it off

To fend it me.

Iach. She writes ſo to you? doth ſhe e?

Poſt. O no, no, no, 'tis true. Heere, take this too,
It is a Baſiliske vnto mine eye,
Killes me to looke on't: Let there be no Honor,
Where there is Beauty : Truth, where ſemblance : Loue,
Where there's another man. The Vowes of Women,
Of no more bondage be, to where they are made,
Then they are to their Vertues, which is nothing :
O,aboue meaſure falſe.

Phil. Hauе patience Sir,

And take your Ring againe, 'tis not yet wonne :
It may be probable ſhe loſt it: or

Who knowes if one her women, being corrupted
Hath ſolne it from her.

Poſt. Very true,

And ſo I hope he came by't: backe my Ring,
Render to me ſome corporall ſigne about her,
More euident then this: for this was ſolne.

Iach. By Iupiter, I had it from her Arme.

Poſt. Hearke you, he ſwears: by Iupiter he ſwears.
'Tis true, nay keepe the Ring; 'tis true : I am ſure
She would not loose it : her Attendants are
All ſworne, and honourable: they induc'd to ſteale it?
And by a Stranger ? No, he hath enjoy'd her,
The Cognifance of her incontinencie
Is this: ſhe hath bought the name of Whore, thus deely
There, take thy hyre, and all the Fien'ds of Hell
Divide themſelues betweene you.

Phil. Sir, be patient:

This is not ſtrong enough to be beleeu'd
Of one perſwaded well of.

Poſt. Neuer talke on't:

She hath bin colted by him.

Iach. If you ſeeke

For further ſatisfying, vnder her Breast
(Worthy her preſſing) lyes a Mole, right proud
Of that moſt delicate Lodging. By my life
I kiff't, and it gaue me preſent hunger
To feede againe, though full. You do remember
This ſtaine vpon her?

Poſt. I, and it doth confirme

Another ſtaine, as bigge as Hell can hold,
Were there no more but it.

Iach. Will you beare more?

Poſt. Spare your Atchymaticke,
Neuer count the Turnes: Once, and a Million.

Iach. Ile be ſworne.

Poſt. No ſwearing:
If you will ſware you haue not done't, you lye,
And I will kill thee, if thou do't deny
Thou'ſt made me Cuckold.

Iach. Ile deny nothing.

Poſt. O that I had her heere, to teare her Limb-meale:
I will go there and doo't, i'th'Court, before
Her Father. Ile do ſomething.

Phil. Quite befides
The government of Patience. You haue wonne :
Let's follow him, and peruert the preſent wrath
He hath againſt himſelfe.

Iach. With all my heart.

Exeunt.

Enter Poſthumus.

Poſt. Is there no way for Men to be, but Women
Muſt be halſe-workers? We are all Baſtards,
And that moſt venerable man, which I
Did call my Father, was, I know not where
When I was flampt. Some Coyner with his Tooles
Made me a counterfeit: yet my Mother ſeem'd
The Dian of that time: ſo doth my Wife
The Non-pareil of this. Oh Vengeance, Vengeance !
Me of my lawfull pleasure ſhe reſtrain'd,
And pray'd me oft forbearance: did it with
A pudencie ſo Rofie, the ſweet view on't
Might well haue warm'd olde Saturne;
That I thought her
As Chaſte, as vn-Sunn'd Snow. Oh, all the Diuels !
This yellow Iachimo in an houre, was't not?

2222

Or

The Tragedy of Cymbeline.

380

Or leſſe; at firſt ? Perchance he spoke not, but
Like a full Acorn'd Boare, a Iarmen on,
Cry'de oh, and mounted; found no oppoſition
But what he look'd for, ſhould oppoſe, and ſhe
Should from encounter guard. Could I finde out
The Womans part in me, for there's no motion
That tends to vice in man, but I affirme
It is the Womans part: be it Lying, note it,
The womans: Flattering, hers; Deceiuing, hers:
Luſt, and ranke thoughts, hers, hers: Reuenges hers:
Ambitions, Couetings, change of Prides, Difdaine,
Nice-longing, Slanders, Mutability;
All Faults that name, may, that Hell knowes,
Why hers, in part, or all: but rather all For euen to Vice
They are not conſtant, but are changing ſtill;
One Vice, but of a minute old, for one
Not halſe ſo old as that. I write againſt them,
Deteft them, curſe them: yet'tis greater ſkill
In a true Hate, to pray they haue their will:
The very Diuels cannot plague them better.
Exit.

Actus Tertius. Scena Prima.

Enter in State, Cymbeline, Queene, Clotten, and Lords at
one door, and at another, Caius, Lucius,
and Attendants.

Cym. Now ſay, what would Augustus Cæsar with vs?

Luc. When Julius Cæsar (whose remembrance yet

Liues in mens eyes, and will to Eares and Tongues
Be Theame, and hearing euer) was in this Britain,
And Conquer'd it, Caffibulan thine Vnkle
(Famous in Cæsars prayſes, no whit leſſe
Then in his Feats deferuing it) for him,
And his Succession, granted Rome a Tribute,
Yeerely three thouſand pounds; which (by thee) lately
Is left vntender'd.

Qu. And to kill the meruaile,

Shall be ſo euer.
Clot. There be many Cæsars,
Ere ſuch another Julius: Britaine's a world
By it ſelfe, and we will nothing pay
For wearing our owne Nofes.

Qu. That opportunity
Which then they had to take from's, to refuſe
We haue againe. Remember Sir, my Liege,
The Kings your Anceſtors, together with
The naturall brauery of your ſle, which ſtands
As Neptunes Parke, ribb'd, and pal'd in
With Oakes vnſkaſeable, and roaring Waters,
With Sands that will not beare your Enemiſes Boates,
But ſucke them vp to'th'Top-maſt. A kinde of Conqueſt
Caſar made heere, but made not heere his bragge
Of Came, and Saw, and Ouer-came: with ſhame
(The firſt that euer touch'd him) he was carried
From off our Coaſt, twice beaten: and his Shipping
(Poore ignorant Baubles) on our terrible Seas
Like Egge-thels mou'd vpon their Surges, crack'd
As eafly gainſt our Rockes. For ioy whereof,
The fam'd Caffibulan, who was once at point
(Oh giglet Fortune) to maſter Caſars Sword,
Made Luds-Towne with reioycing-Fires bright,

And Britaines ſrut with Courage,

Clot. Come, there's no more Tribute to be paid: our
Kingdome is ſtronger then it was at that time; and (as I
said) there is no mo ſuch Caſars other of them may haue
crook'd Nofes, but to owe ſuch fraite Armes, none.

Cym. Son, let your Mother end,

Clot. We haue yet many among vs, can gripes hard,
as Caffibulan, I doe not ſay I am one: but I haue a haud.
Why Tribute? Why should we pay? Tribute ? If Caſar
can hide the Sun from vs with a Blanket, or put the Moon
in his pocket, we will pay him Tribute for light: elle Sir,
no more Tribute, pray you now.

Cym. You muſt know,
Till the iniurious Romans, did extort
This Tribute from vs, we were free. Caſars Ambition,
Which ſwell'd ſo much, that it did almost ſtretch
The ſides o'th'World, againſt all colour heere,
Did put the yoake vpon's; which to shake off
Becomes a warlike people, whom we reckon
Our ſelues to be, we do. Say then to Caſar,
Our Anceſtor was that Mulmutius, which
Ordain'd our Lawes, whole vie the Sword of Caſar
Hath too much mangled; whole ſepayre, and franchise,
Shall (by the power we hold) be our good deed,
Tho Rome be therefore angry. Mulmutius made our lawes
Who was the firſt of Britaine, which did put
His browes within a golden Crowne, and call'd
Himſelfe a King.

Luc. I am ſory Cymbeline,
That I am to pronounce Augustus Caſar
(Caſar, that hath moe Kings his Seruants, then
Thy ſelfe Domesticke Officers) thine Enemy:
Receyue it from me then. Warre, and Conſution
In Caſars name pronounce I'gainſt thee: Looke
For fury, not to be refiſted. Thus defide,
I thanke thee for my ſelfe.

Cym. Thou art welcome Caius,
Thy Caſar Knighted me; my youth I ſpent
Much vnder him; of him, I gather'd Honour,
Which he, to ſeeke of me againe, perſorce,
Behooues me keepe at ytterance. I am perfect,
That the Pannonians and Dalmatians, for
Their Liberties are now in Armes: a Preſident
Which not to reade, would ſhow the Britaines cold:
So Caſar shall not finde them.

Luc. Let proofe I speake.

Clot. His Maiefly biddes you welcome. Make paſ-
ſime with vs, a day, or two, or longer : if you ſeek vs after-
terwards in other tearmes, you ſhall finde vs in our Salt-
water-Girdle: if you beate vs out of it, it is yours: if you
fall in the adventure, our Crowes ſhall fare the better for
you: and there's an end.

Luc. So fir.

Cym. I know your Maſters pleasure, and he mine:
All the Remaine, is welcome.
Exeunt.

Stena Secunda.

Enter Pisanio reading of a Letter.

Pis. How of Adultery ? Wherefore write you not
What Monſters her accuse ? Leonatus :
Oh Maſter, what a ſtrange Infection